30
The cab stops outside the house, and I get out and make a “V” sign with my fingers at the guard standing on the wall. The gate opens and I sigh in relief. I run inside, sit down on the sofa, bring my knees up to my chest and hug the file.
The thoughts are reeling in my head. Oh my God, that was a terrible experience! With trembling fingers, I pick up my cellphone and dial Ralph’s number. No answer.
What am I supposed to do now? Maybe I should just run back to my apartment? Should I go to the police and tell them about the blue Volvo? I’m so confused, and I can’t stop shaking.
“Elena, get a hold of yourself!” I scream in frustration and close my eyes, having a conversation with my brain. I really, really need you now, so wake up and tell me what to do. Slowly, my breath becomes calmer and my brain focuses and organizes the information for me in neat drawers in my head. I open my eyes and go over to the computer, going into news sites and looking for information about the arrests tonight. Nothing. Like it was all just a dream. I chuckle bitterly and return to the sofa. Suddenly a shudder sweeps through me. If they searched the business, surely that won’t be enough. The next step will be to search their private houses. I run my hand on the worn file and open it, read through it page by page, photograph it in my head and file it away inside a drawer in my brain. Several minutes later I realize I know much more about their business than I should or want. Much, much more. Names of suppliers, lists of distributors, accurate distribution areas down to addresses and apartment numbers. I’m surprised that some of the names are familiar to me from the newspapers. Lawyers, judges, celebrities… there’s also a list of the bar and club’s regular customers, lists of debtors, personal information about each employee, even me – including information about my parents, Professor Sawyer and Johanna. The last few pages in the file list details of the competitors’ activity. All this is arranged neatly in a worn file, which even a na?ve girl like me can see is no ordinary file, but rather explosive information that could blow up the entire state.
I walk over to the sink, find a lighter in one of the drawers and start burning page after page, until there are none left. I take my backpack, put the empty file and my laptop inside and call a cab.
When I reach my apartment, there's no sign of Johanna. I try to call Ralph again, but I get his voicemail. “Please call me back,” I say, then hang up and lie down on my bed. Each time I think I’ve hit rock bottom, the universe laughs at me and proves that the bottom is lower than I thought. I can’t close my eyes all night, as I tensely wait for a sign of life from the man who has sucked me deep into the black hole.
Morning arrives and I drag myself to the shower. The water hits my head and calms me a little. Suddenly I think I hear my cellphone ringing. I run back to my room and answer.
“Elena,” I hear the voice I’ve been waiting for and I burst into tears of relief. “Stop crying,” he orders firmly, and I sniff and wipe away my tears.
“Where are you?” I ask, hoping to hear that he is at home and will come to pick me up soon.
“Locked up,” he replies shortly, and I shrink on my bed.
“Don’t you get just one phone call?” I ask wearily.
“That’s right.” He continues in the same hard tone. “Tommy’s already called our lawyer, and now I need you to concentrate.”
“Okay,” I sit up tensely.
“I don’t know how many days we’ll have to be here, but I’m sure we’ll be out soon.”
“Good,” I mumble, and he continues rapidly.
“Did you get hold of Ralph?”
“No, but I’ll keep trying.”
“That bastard!” he hisses venomously. “He always disappears when he’s needed.” He is silent for a moment and then continues. “You have to understand that each day we’re not at the bar is critical. All the scumbags will start crawling out of their holes, and try to take over our business.”
“But there’s a ceasefire,” I say in a panic.
“Only regarding the war, not regarding a hostile takeover of abandoned businesses,” he explains coldly. “You have to get hold of Ralph and make sure he’s looking after our interests in the bar.”
“Okay,” I don’t know what else to say, my head is spinning.
“Elena,” his voice softens, “I hope you took your mechanics work with you.” He sounds amused.
“Of course I did,” I answer, not telling him that I burned all the file’s contents in his kitchen sink.
“Where are you?” His voice caresses my heart and I clutch my chest in pain.
“My apartment.”
“Ralph will make sure to set you up with a guard,” he says, and I hear the concern creeping into his voice. “And do not,” his tone grows hard again, “Elena, I repeat, do not go back to the bar.”
“Okay.”
“I have to go,” he groans. “But I want you to know that I’m thinking of you all the time.”
I don’t have time to answer before the call is cut off.
I stare at the phone’s screen and dial Ralph again. It goes straight to voicemail again and I leave another message. I try a few more times and then give up and start to get dressed. I’ll go crazy if I stay here. I can’t do any more than I've already done. The only way to stay sane is to go to the university.
I sit through my classes and for the first time in my life, my brain won’t absorb the studying material. I blink over and over again, but my brain is sealed. I call Ralph during each break, but I get his voicemail every time. I go into my last class and think I see Johanna. I close my eyes tight, open them again, and she’s still there. Professor Sawyer approaches the podium and starts his lecture. I look away from her in his direction, and see that he is looking right at me. His words sound muffled, I yawn, and tiredly stare at him.
When there is no more silence, and all I hear is the noise of people moving around, I realize that class is over, I stand up quickly to catch up with Johanna.
“Elena,” the familiar masculine voice comes from the stage and I groan and stop in my tracks. He signals me over and by the time I reach the stage, the hall is empty. “Is everything okay?” he asks with concern.
“Fine,” I say and fake a crooked smile.
“Then what are your conclusions from the research I presented today?” he asks and looks at me intently.
“Research?” I answer with a question, trying to check if my brain filed away the information.
“You don’t look well.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “We’re humans, not machines. You should also let yourself rest sometimes.”
“You’re right,” I sigh in relief when I realize that he thinks I’m sick. “I must have caught a virus, but I finished the tasks you sent me on the weekend.”
He laughs and moves his head from side to side. “Stop being so perfect all the time. You make everyone else look bad.” I look at him and try to figure out if that was a compliment or an insult.
He closes his briefcase and turns towards the rear exit. “Your new hairstyle is very pretty,” he says with a smile, and leaves.
I leave the hall quickly and run to the lawn, looking for Johanna all over campus. It’s as if she’s vanished. I call Ralph again and curse in frustration when I hear his voicemail again. It’s already seven in the evening, and I’m standing in the parking lot helplessly. I have no idea where he lives or where he hangs out, except the bar and club of course, and we don’t have any mutual acquaintances I could ask. Okay, so I promised Liam I wouldn’t go near the bar. But I also promised that I’d get hold of Ralph and that seems more important. The only possibility I can think of is to go to the bar and pray I’ll find him there.
I get a cab and fifteen minutes later I’m standing before the big steel door. There’s no bouncer and the door is ajar. Before I can change my mind and turn around, the taxi drives off and leaves me there alone.
I say a prayer under my breath. Please, don’t make me regret this… I open the door cautiously and stifle a yell.