He answered on the second ring. “Mr. O’Malley.”
“Eugene.”
The old guy hesitated, like he hadn’t expected me to use his first name even though I’d used it every time we’d talked.
He recovered. “Where are you? Where is Kathleen? She has her phone off.”
I saw no reason to evade his questions. “It’s the middle of the night, so I assume she’s asleep at home. I’m on a plane at O’Hare. Why?”
“You’re leaving?”
“No. I’m arriving. What’s going on?”
“Kathleen isn’t at her apartment.”
“No. Like I said, she’s home. She’s at our place.”
Again, he hesitated, but this time he hadn’t quite recovered when he spoke. “Your place? She moved in?”
“Yeah.”
I picked a piece of lint from my pant leg while I listened to him sigh a big sigh of relief.
“That’s great.”
“What’s going on, Eugene? Talk to me.”
“Caleb flew out to Chicago this afternoon, with reinforcements.”
Motherfucker.
I gritted my teeth, feeling a lot less bad that I’d tricked Kat into moving to my place. “Private security?”
“Yes. But he may involve the local authorities at this point. He has a temporary emergency order for guardianship, which is of course invalid since the two of you are married. But he doesn’t know that, not yet. I’ve been attempting to reach Kathleen. I discovered this information an hour ago when Caleb called me, asking me to confirm her address.”
“That fucktrumpet was waiting for her? At her old place?” Adrenaline took a back seat to fury, fury took the wheel, and fury was a terrible driver.
“He doesn’t know she’s married, but it might make strategic sense for me to tell him.” No hesitation this time, but I also got the impression he was talking to himself.
“Why would you tell that cumbucket anything?” I was yelling. When I’m pissed, I yell, and Tiny Satan made me want to yodel from a damn mountain. Like I said, fury was a terrible driver.
“As long as he trusts me, I’m privy to information that might prove advantageous.” Meanwhile, Eugene didn’t sound even a little bit ruffled.
“Okay, yeah. That makes sense.” Resolve took over from fury, but fury stuck close by, just in case some skulls needed cracking. “So why haven’t you told Caleb that Kat is hitched?”
“Mr. O’Malley—Daniel—you haven’t sent the postnup. Did you receive the new copy? With the changes you requested?”
“Oh, yeah. I signed it, but data has been spotty since we took off. Kat still needs to sign.”
“Yes. Good, good. Have her sign and then have your lawyer send it to my work email. I’ll text you the address. If your lawyer adds language suggesting their firm drafted the document, I would not object.”
“Gotcha.”
“Then, I will notify the judge and Caleb that Kathleen is married. The order will have to be rescinded.” The way he said this had me fighting off a smirk.
“Sounds like breaking the news to Caleb is going to be a real hardship, huh?”
I didn’t know Eugene very well. Before now, we’d only spoken on the phone twice to review changes I wanted to the postnup. But sometimes—like now—he reminded me of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons, whenever the greedy geezer would say, “Excellent” with his fingers tented.
“At times, it is necessary to willingly undertake an unpleasant task, or make a personal sacrifice, for the collective benefit of one’s friends or colleagues.” I thought I detected a smile in his voice, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Taking one for the team, Eugene?”
“Precisely. Send the postnup. Have a pleasant evening, Daniel.”
“You can call me Dan.”
“Then have a pleasant evening, Dan.”
“You too, Eugene.”
Cracking up, I ended the call. Splitting my attention between adding Eugene’s new number to my contacts and checking our progress on the runway, I decided I really liked this guy. No wonder Kat felt comfortable calling him Uncle.
You know how you have fantasies about everyday shit? Like someone doing a good job on your quarterly tax returns, baking you a cake for no reason, or sweeping up all the dog hair in the corners of your apartment?
Guess what? My apartment smelled like cake.
The scent of vanilla was the first thing I noticed as I entered. Leaving my bag by the door, shutting it, locking it, and then tossing my suit jacket to the chair in the hall, I inhaled deeply. Fucking heaven, that smell.
The second, there were no traces that Kat lived here. No shoes by the front door, no coat in the closet, nothing.