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“Thanks,” I said, but there were only short beeps on the other end.
Chapter 21
Owen
“Is that all she said?” I asked. I was on the island, taking a walk up in its hills, trying my hardest not to go insane. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, Owen. Sydney thanks you, and she’s waiting for you. Nothing to worry about. Her brother is getting better.”
“Good, good. Thanks for the update. Now, where are we with the case? To be honest, Lucas, I’m losing it down here.”
“Hang in there Owen, because we might be onto something. So far, every case they tried to file has been dismissed. As we predicted, they brought up the fact of the amount of accounts of suspicious business practices, but every case was looked at separately, and you have covered all your bases there.”
“Told you!”
“That’s not all. This week has been the busiest. The IRS wants to look into everything at once, and they want to drag every member of the board into court to ask them about the deals. Thankfully, like you, they have good lawyers.”
I kicked a rock of a cliff and watched it bounced down the slope. “If you’re quite done sucking your own dick, get to the point.”
Baxter snickered. “The point is, they’re looking for you like you’re the fucking Cinderella, Owen, but they have no leverage. There isn’t a judge insane enough send the Feds after you. In other news, your people have done a good job clearing most of your charities, or whatever you want to call them. And since it’s all tied in, your shell corporations have been cleared, as well. Basically, the IRS is at square one. You were right, they will have to dive into paperwork like Scrooge McDuck into money, if they hope to ever prove anything.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Lucas? Am I good to go?” I stopped in the middle of the forest path, ready to turn back given the signal.
“Yes, Owen, you can come home. I will issue an official press-release and not
ify your office.”
“I owe you a dinner, man.”
“You owe me a lot more than that, Owen. See ya.”
I swiped off and ran back to my mansion, leaping over rocks and tree branches, like some feral beast. When I reached the paved road, I slowed down and called my pilot. I had forty minutes to get ready.
I hadn’t shaved in weeks – because, why would I? – so that was the first order of business. As the hair fell into the sink, I began to recognize the person in the mirror. I smiled, thinking of Sydney, she’d appreciate the clean shaven look. She was waiting for me. Which meant I had a chance.
There were no things to pack, so I grabbed my phone and my wallet and raced to the airfield.
“I trust everything worked out for the best?” the pilot asked me, as I was boarding.
“Not yet. Let’s get the fuck off this island already and fix that.”
+++
Finally, I landed back in Chicago. On my way home, I felt like I had never left: the city was still the same, busy and oblivious to everything out of its immediate reach. As they were moving east on I-90, nobody paid me any attention. It was like I wasn’t even there. It felt good. I hoped it would carry on that way. I didn’t want public attention any more. A month earlier I might have used this scandal to promote myself and the company, but that seemed so insignificant now. There was only one thing I truly wanted.
I told the driver to change their destination, and I spent the rest of the ride planning my evening.
Half an hour later, the car stopped in front of a small apartment building. There was a car under a tree, a silver Honda.
“Wish me luck,” I said. “And don’t wait for me.”
I stepped out of the car, made sure my shirt looked okay and went up to the front door. I felt like a high-schooler about to ring the bell to ask a girl for prom. I tried to control my breathing, and pressed on the buzzer. A minute later I heard the door unlock, and then it swung open.
Sydney was standing there, wearing a bathrobe, her hair in a ponytail. I looked into her eyes, her nose and the freckles around it, those beautiful lips. Her eyes were getting wet. We stood frozen for a moment longer, processing it, and then she opened the door further, inviting me in.
“You’re here,” she said breathlessly sitting down the couch.
“I am.”
