The Inner Sanctum (27 page)

Several other employees sat very close to Johnny's space. He and Johnny would enjoy little privacy here, David saw. "Could we use a conference room?"

Johnny laughed. He moved to an older woman sitting at the desk next to his and put a large hand on her shoulder. "We've got no secrets here."

"I'm serious."

Johnny detected a tiny trace of fear in David's expression, and the thought crossed Johnny's mind that perhaps he shouldn't have been so eager to help his old friend after all. "Okay." He led David through the maze once again to a small room at the side of the central space and closed the door when they were both inside. "This better?"

"Much."

"Well, have a seat."

"Thanks." David sat down in a spindly chair. Its cushion was worn to the metal on one side.

"So how are things at the finger-food firm of Sagamore Investment Management, or whatever the hell it's called?"

"Good. Well, okay."

"What's the problem, David?" Johnny became serious. He had sensed that there was something wrong with his old friend even as they had shaken hands in the lobby. He wasn't going to kid around anymore.

"I'm not exactly sure." A strange look came to David's face. "I need your help to figure that out."

Johnny folded his hands on the veneer table. "Always at your service, Senor Mitchell. Always here to help."

That was true. Johnny had pulled David out of more than a few scrapes in high school. David hesitated. This was difficult.

"Come on, out with it." Johnny checked his watch. "No offense, rich boy, but it's almost five o'clock. You might burn the midnight oil out at that blue-blood firm of yours, but those of us who toil in the funds transfer area of First Maryland Trust leave exactly at five when we arrive at nine in the morning. Especially when we have a softball game at six."

David held up a hand. "Okay, I get the message. Look, I need you to track down an account for me."

"Be more specific."

David hesitated again.

Johnny raised an eyebrow. He had known David too long to miss the signs. "There must be something very wrong."

"Why do you say that?"

"You're having a real hard time getting this out. And you look like dogshit. Should I go on?" Johnny asked.

"No." By actually asking for help, David would be verbalizing his suspicions for the first time, and they would suddenly become more real as a result. He was about to take all of this to a new level. All he could hope for was that he was wrong. "Johnny, I need to know the name on an account. All I have is the account number."

"And let me guess," Johnny said. "The account is located in Switzerland or the Caymans."

"Yeah."

"Those places don't give up information like that easily. For good reasons. You know that."

"I know. I just thought you might be able to help."

"Are you in trouble, David?"

If his suspicions were correct, he was in a great deal of trouble. "I hope not."

Jesse waved as David entered the bar. She noticed several women interrupt conversations to give him the once-over as he pushed through the crowd. He was attractive, and she suddenly realized that she had been thinking about him more than a few times a day now.

"Hello there." David bent down and kissed her cheek gently as he reached her bar stool. "How are you?"

A kiss on the cheek had become their customary greeting and good-bye, and she liked it. "Great. How about you?"

"Fine." Bodies were stacked four deep waiting to be served at the bar. "Why don't we get out of this traffic jam?"

"Okay."

He took her hand and led her through the crowd to an open table at the back of the establishment. "This is much better." He held her chair, then took off his suit coat, draped it over the back of his chair, and sat down. "What do you want?"

"Now there's a loaded question." She smiled and eyed him up and down seductively, before she burst out laughing.

"I meant to drink." He laughed, dropping heavily into his seat, as if it had been a very difficult day. "But I liked the look I just got."

"Don't read too much into it," she cautioned.

"You know, you're starting to intrigue me."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you're this innocent, naive woman and then I see you do something like that." He leaned over the table toward her, placing his elbows on the table. "It makes me wonder."

"Oh, please." She shoved one elbow out from under him playfully.

"So what do you want?"

"Diet Coke is fine."

He gave her a disappointed look. "Have a beer with me, Jesse."

"I can't. I have school tonight."

"Do you have an exam or something?"

"No, just class."

"Have just one beer then."

She smiled. "You're terrible."

"The devil. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

Jesse ignored him. "I really shouldn't, but okay, I'll have a beer. Just one, though." She held up her forefinger.

"Good." Satisfied with his small victory, David turned and motioned to the waitress for the two beers. "How was your day?" he asked.

"Fine. One strange thing happened, or I guess didn't happen."

"What do you mean?"

"A woman I work with, Sara Adams, didn't show up at the branch today."

"Why is that strange?"

"We're pretty good friends. She usually tells me if she's taking a day off and who she's going to be with if she does. I do the same with her. It's kind of a buddy system."

"Did you call her at home?"

"Yes, but there wasn't any answer." Jesse was more worried than she was letting on, but there was no reason to bother David with Sara's unexplained absence. He looked worn out. "It's probably nothing. How was your day? You look a little tired."

"Fine."

They sat in silence for a moment. Finally she could no longer contain her curiousity. "So tell me about yourself."

"What?"

"I want to know about you. Every time I ask, you give some short answer, then turn the focus of the conversation back on me. I have to admit it's nice to find someone who does that, who doesn't want to talk just about himself, but now I want some answers about you."

David shrugged. "There isn't much to know."

"Tell me anyway. Tell me about where you grew up, your family, the schools you attended. All the normal stuff."

"Sounds like an interrogation."

The waitress served the beers. As she walked away, Jesse slid her hand across the table and touched David's arm gently. "I'm serious. Talk to me. You never do. It occurred to me that we spent all day together last Saturday on the sailboat and I really don't know anything about you."

"Cheers." He tapped his glass to hers and drank.

She shook her head. "No. That's another diversion. I'm putting my foot down. Talk to me. I won't take a sip until you start talking."

"Okay." But still he remained silent.

This was getting ridiculous. "Let's try something easy. Where did you go to college? Wait, let me guess. Princeton, Harvard, Yale?"

There would be no more dodging the issue. That was clear. "Cecil County Community College," he said quietly.

"You just aren't going to give me a straight answer, are you?"

He had anticipated this. She was going to be very disappointed. Her image of him was about to shatter. "That's as straight as it gets. I'm not kidding."

He was telling her the truth, she suddenly realized. "You're serious."

He nodded.

"But you said you went to an Ivy League school."

"No, you said that, Jesse. I just didn't bother to correct you."

"Where did you grow up?"

David pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Right here in the city. In Glen Owens, the Hell's Kitchen of Baltimore. You're from this area. You know what Glen Owens is like. It was the same way when I was growing up." He dropped the pack on the table and pushed it toward her. "Want one?"

"No thanks. I didn't know you smoked."

"Do you mind? I'll stop if it bothers you."

"No, it's fine. My dad smoked. I don't mind."

A woman at the bar had been watching David's every move, and he finally acknowledged her interest with a subtle smile. Might as well, he thought to himself. The prospects of seeing Jesse on a social basis had just dimmed considerably. "So now you know. I'm just a poor boy with no heritage."

"Is that why you wouldn't tell me about yourself?"

"We're all supposed to be the Third or named Rockefeller out at Sagamore. And except for me, we are. I'm the black sheep of the group. I figured if you knew, you might not be interested."

"You must not think much of me."

"Well, I've been dropping pretty big hints about how I'd like to see you socially, and you haven't accepted. I assumed that if you knew about my background, that would be just another reason not to go out with me."

"You know why I'm uncomfortable about going out with you." Jesse had seen the look David had given the woman at the bar, and to her surprise she had felt a twinge of jealousy. "I don't want Elizabeth to get the wrong idea."

"I understand. By the way, did she call you?"

"Yes. I'm coming out to Sagamore Thursday evening for final interviews. She gave me the list of people I'm seeing, and I would like to talk about them with you at some point."

"I told you, I'd be happy to do that."

"Thanks." Jesse gave the woman at the bar a curt hands-off glare. "But let's do that later. I want to talk more about you. I'm just curious. How do you get from Cecil County Community College to Sagamore? No offense, but I can't imagine Sagamore recruits heavily at Cecil."

David laughed loudly, suddenly relieved to have finally told her. "Well, I got an operations job at a bank in town after Cecil Community College through a friend of mine. I talked my way into the executive training program there, then talked my way into the University of Virginia business school, then talked my way into Sagamore."

"You must have been a good talker."

"I had to be. I was wearing polyester and leather until a couple of guys in the bank training program took me out and introduced me to wool and cotton." He still had one of those polyester suits hanging in his closet as a reminder of where he had come from. As a reminder that every day he had to work harder than the rest because he had started at the back of the pack. "That little shopping spree was one of the most embarrassing experiences of my life, and one of the most valuable."

"David, you must have done very well at Virginia for Sagamore to take an interest. I mean, it's a great school, but it isn't Ivy League."

"I did okay. But the reason Sagamore was interested in me was that they wanted a token. Somebody they could point to and say, 'Hey, we take people from different backgrounds.' "

Jesse could see his resentment even though he tried to hide it.

He inhaled from the cigarette. "I'm reminded of where I've come from every day I'm at Sagamore."

"Is it really that bad?"

"Life is simply a menu of trade-offs," he said, taking another puff. "I liked the money they were offering. I knew none of those people would ever be my friends, but I didn't care." He looked straight into her eyes. "Now they're doing it to you. Presenting you with the same choice. And remember, Elizabeth won't be at Sagamore forever. She'll be gone and you'll have to deal with the rest of them."

"So if you don't like it, why don't you leave? Get another job?"

"I told you at dinner. It isn't that easy." His expression darkened.

"You mean because Mohler will blackball you within the investment community if you don't make it past the fifth year? I'm sure you could get another job. Look, he can't call everyone in the world."

David shook his head. "It runs deeper than that."

"What do you mean?"

He had said it without even thinking. Suddenly he regretted being so open and pulled back. Being loose with his thoughts might get him in trouble. "Let me take you to dinner. I know a great place down in Little Italy."

"I told you, I have to go to school, and . . ."

"And you think Elizabeth would get the wrong idea if she found out," David finished the thought.

Jesse said nothing. Meeting for a beer after work was one thing, but a second dinner would be different.

David reached into his coat pocket. "Here."

"What's this?" Jesse took the envelope from him.

"Just read it."

Curious, she pulled out the letter and began reading. It was a hand-scrawled note from Elizabeth, thanking Jesse for her interest in Sagamore. After Elizabeth's signature was a P.S. It read: "David is a wonderful man, but he works too hard. Perhaps you could help him with his problem and show him what it means to relax a bit." Jesse glanced up at David as she finished the letter. "You probably put Elizabeth up to this," she said, smiling.