Shell Game – Chapter 19 – Vermont Man

Claire spun around, making a quick assessment of the spartan furnishings. Her eyes finally landed back on Evan. She stared at him with pity. “Didn’t she get you flustered? Is she someone I need to worry about?”

Evan looked up at Claire, smiled, took off his hat, and tossed it on the lonely table by the kitchen. “Nah. I mean, she’s not someone you want to take your eye off, that’s for sure, but I think as far as you’re concerned, she’s playing in a different ballpark than you.”

“It’s just, when you get rattled-” Claire stopped. “I’m used to you being a rock; a figure of granite. I feel so safe with you. There’s been so much happening over the last couple of days; my nerves are at an absolute frazzle.”

“Which reminds me,” Evan said, raking his hair with his hands as he walked over to the phone. He picked up the glossy, black handle in one hand and dialed the phone number for The Webster Hotel with the other.

One ring. Evan smoothed back down his hair. Two rings. The Webster picked up. “Yes,” said Evan, “I’m looking for a guest of yours, a mister Harold Huber… uh huh… yes… He isn’t, huh? Interesting.” Evan glanced at his watch. “Well, could you leave a message? Yes. Have him call Evan Gold when he gets in. No, he has my number. Thanks so much.” Evan hung up.

While he was on the phone, Claire perched herself in the crook of the sofa, her slender legs tucked up under her. As for Evan, he unbuttoned his coat, slunked down in a nearby armchair, and closed his eyes.
“We’re waiting?” Claire asked.

“We’re waiting,” Evan mumbled.

A silence fell over the room. Evan started to feel the pressure lift from his mind.

“I think this is where we make idle small talk,” she said eventually.

“Is it?”

“Well, sure. I don’t know much about you. You don’t know much about me. I mean, I like what I know, but I’m certain there are layers, more movement below the surface.”

“I’m afraid whatever you found is going to disappoint you.”

Claire adjusted herself on the sofa. “What got you into the detective business, Evan?” Claire asked.

“That’s not a very interesting story,” Evan said. “You might as well ask me why the sky is blue or why the waves only come up so high on the shore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Claire straightened up a little. “Let me guess…” her eyes narrowed as if she was peering into his mind. “Your father was a cop. Or, no, or your father passed when you were still boy, and you were the one left to protect your mother.”

“Well, you’d be wrong on both counts,” Evan remarked.

“Yeah?” Claire said.

“What’s that they say about appearances? They aren’t all they seem?” Evan smiled.

“Is that what they say?” Claire said.

Evan opened his eyes and looked at his client. “You want to know my story? Okay. Here goes. Years ago,” Evan began, “I was talking to a detective friend from back in Vermont. He tells me of a man, roughly the age I am now. Wife. Kids. The works. Takes off missing. That, of course, may not be so hard to imagine. I don’t know how you feel about settling down with rugrats of your own. But since you’re an attractive person who hasn’t settled down, I’m guessing you could understand the man’s plight.

“Anyway, the Vermont man gets a letter in the mail. It’s from a law firm in Rhode Island. The letter informs him, your blah, blah, blah, died and left you a lot of money. This, of course, is excellent news. He receives the inheritance, pays off all his creditors, sets up funds for each kid, and buys the wife a new up-to-date house. Everything’s peach fuzz.
“Then, as one might guess, our man takes ill. Doctor gives him six months and tells him to get his affairs in order. The family’s beside itself. Each day seemed like one less drop available in the cup of life. Our man is so overwhelmed, so racked with lament, that he is hospitalized in less than two months. Seems he went in as much for distress as for the disease eating him from the inside.”

Evan looked over to Claire. She leaned forward on her elbow, quite interested in the details of the story. The look on her face also asked what this story had to do with her question. Evan chuckled and continued.

“As you know, hospitals aren’t so much a place to get better, but a place where the dying are made more comfortable. This fact was certainly true in the Vermont man’s case. Day after day, our man gets worse and worse. Eventually, the wife can’t take the strain and stops coming to see him. It’s all very ugly. But then, one night, no one knows why, but then the treatment finally takes. Day by day, he gets better and better. After three weeks in the hospital bed, he’s able to go home. Walks out on his own two legs. He makes it to the day six months after the original diagnosis, and he’s feeling as good as he’d ever felt in his life. Then something clicks in his mind. He goes to work one day and never comes home.”

“He died?”

Evan frowned and shook his head, “Nah, he just left. Poof. Left town.”

“Just like that?” Claire asked with saucer-sized eyes.

“Just like that,” Evan said and snapped his fingers. The telephone rang at the exact moment that Evan snapped, almost as if it had been a prearranged effect. Evan moved to pick up the call.

“So, what happened?” Claire asked.

“Hello?” Evan said into the receiver, then smiled. “Harold! Good of you to call. Yes, I was wondering if I could meet with you at my place… When? Now. I… I’m sure it is… I’m sure you do, but, see, I have Claire Porter with me, and I thought you two might… Yes, I thought that would change your mind. We’re at 2 South Cottonwood, Apartment G. I’ll ring you up when you get here.” Evan returned the receiver. “Harold’s on his way. Seems you’re quite the draw. Now we might be able to make some headway on whether or not anyone is trying to harm you.” Evan moved to look out the window.

“Oh, I’m quite sure there is,” Claire said.

“What was that?” Evan said, not turning his head. The blonde in the trench coat was still keeping vigil by the streetlight.

“Evan?” Claire said.

“Uh-huh?” he mumbled.

“What happened to the man? You’ve got me on pins.” Claire asked, now up on her knees and looking over the back of the sofa.

“The man?” Evan turned back to her. “Oh! In Vermont? Years later, the daughter of the man, now full-grown, hires my friend. Tells him some line, much like the story you fed Gabe and me. Maybe that’s what put it in my mind. Daughter says she’d heard reports of her father living in the woods near Massachusetts. My friend checks out the story. Turns out she’s right. It’s her father.”

“What was he doing out there?” asked Claire.

“Seems that hospital visit did a real number on his perspective. For years he’d worked and worked, but the only thing he had to show for all of his labor was stress. He hits a windfall, and though the money stress left, it didn’t save him from the sickness. As he left the hospital, he concludes that he’s experienced a miracle. A gift, if you will, randomly and deservedly given. He wasn’t going to blow this second chance. This was a wake-up call. He concluded that he should live life. However, he didn’t want to worry about the consequences of family and other responsibilities, so he cut ties with everything he knew and loved because life is a random roulette wheel.”

With that, Evan sat back down in the armchair. “The moral of that story is this – you asked why I became a detective – the moral is, people do what makes sense to them even if it doesn’t make a lick of sense to anyone else.”

“Oh, Evan, I don’t like that story,” Claire said. “I don’t like it one bit. I mean, you don’t think that way, do you? Don’t you think things happen for a reason?”

“I don’t know, to be frank. Doesn’t much matter what I think, though. Things are going to happen with or without a reason. I’m just along for the ride.”

Claire swung her feet to the floor. “I mean, think of you and me. There are how many towns I could have come to. There are how many detective’s offices I could have called on. But I ended up in this town and at your office.”

“Yeah, but there’s not that many detectives in Athens. Besides, let’s not forget that two men are also dead, possibly because you came to this town. We must look at both sides of the coin,” Evan said.

“What I mean is,” Claire walked to his armrest and knelt, “is that you and me, we could really be something. Don’t you think?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Evan said, looking into her soft eyes, “I think you’re a real nice girl, and different circumstances and all that, who knows? But two things I know. First, we’ve only known each other for two days. That’s not a whole lot to build on. Stick with me, and I’m sure you’ll find a lot of things you’ll find irritating. Second, you hired me to do a job. I’m just like a working-class schlub you hired to fix your wiring. I’m not a white knight. I’m probably never going to save the day. It’s probably best you think of me just like that and not confuse things.”

“I think you’re too hard on yourself. You certainly tend to see the half-empty glass,” Claire said. “After this is all over-”

“No, no. I try to see the water that’s there. I don’t try to judge the glass. After this is all over is a different thing than right now,” Evan said. “I mean, you seem like a nice enough person. If you can get away from whatever you think is chasing you, who knows? You might experience a personal miracle, and your perspective could radically change.”
Claire’s eyes pleaded with Evan, and her lips parted as if she was about to say one more thing when the doorbell buzzed. Evan raised his eyebrows and said, “Ah, our guest has arrived.”