I parked beside the Suburban and turned off my car.
My mind raced. I tried to think of whatever possibilities I could be exposing myself to, and decided no matter what it was, it wouldn’t be bad. Obviously Michael’s work brought him to the facility, and for whatever reason, Cap was there with him.
I sent Michael a text.
After waiting several minutes for a response, I called.
He didn’t answer.
I walked in the front door. The thick layer of dust that covered the empty receptionist’s desk just inside the entrance led me to believe no one had sat down at it in years. The hallway turned to the right, so I followed it in hopes of finding Michael and Cap drinking a beer with two of Michael’s investors. The sound of muffled voices got quiet halfway to the only door I could see, which made me slightly anxious and a little apprehensive. I continued nonetheless.
A few feet from the doorway, and I could see that it was open, so I stuck my head inside.
I gasped. Michael, Cap and two gentlemen I didn’t recognize were in the room. They looked like they just got back from playing war games. Dressed in all black with their faces painted with green, gray and black makeup, they stood in apparent shock. Each of them either held a gun or had one strapped to their shoulder.
“You said you had to work late. What’s going on, Michael?”
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said openly. “Give me a few minutes with her.”
He handed one of the men the rifle he held and walked toward me. Each of the men, Cap included, sat down. I felt like I was going to vomit.
“Look,” he said as he walked up to me. “I know you’re probably wondering what’s going on, and it’s not an easy thing for me to answer. But I’ll do my best.”
“Why are you dressed like that? What...I don’t...”
“I’ll explain. Just follow me,” he said.
I followed him down the hallway and through the door of another office. The room was filled with boxes, but had no furniture. I followed him inside.
He didn’t look the same. His face was covered in horrid makeup, and he was wearing a black outfit with black boots. He inhaled a deep breath, exhaled and looked at me. “I can’t tell you what I’m in the middle of, but I can tell you it isn’t bad.”
“Well, it sure doesn’t look good. Why do you have guns? And why are you wearing that stuff? You look like you’re going to rob a bank. I feel sick that I came here.”
“Terra, it’s...I...” he stammered.
I tossed my hands in the air. “Is this where you work? This building?”
He nodded.
The carpet was dark blue and I stared at it for some time. I felt like I was going to vomit. “You’re an investor in what?”
“Let me...I can...I’ll explain. But I’m going to have to do it later. I really...”
I had no interest in later. I wanted the answers right now, and nothing less. “No. I want an answer. There’s not a telephone at the receptionist’s desk. And it’s covered in dust. If you work here, something isn’t right. What do you invest in?”
He inhaled a deep breath.
I pressed my hands into my hips and stared. “Don’t lie to me, Michael.”
“Firearms.”
“What about them?” I asked.
“I invest in firearms.”
I wrinkled my nose and stared. “You collect firearms?”
“I don’t collect. I buy, sell, manufacture...”
“You’re a fucking gun dealer?” I snapped.
He slumped his shoulders and shrugged. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”
I hated guns and almost everything they stood for. I couldn’t believe my ears. “Tell me. I swear,” I fumed. “I am so mad at you right now.”
“I’m sure you are, but I haven’t got a lot of time. We can talk later. And I’ll explain everything.”
One of the things he said came to the front of my thoughts. “Wait a minute,” I hissed. “You said you buy, sell, and manufacture guns? This is your job? This is what you do?”
He nodded.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Terra, it’s not...”
“Not what?” I fumed. “Not what? I’ll tell you what it is. It’s you fucking lying to me.”
“Terra, I’m an investor. I invest in firearms. Huge shipments of them. And I sell them for profit. It’s my job. But it’s not something a person goes out and advertises. Let’s talk about this later,” he pleaded.
“Who do you sell them to?”
His lips parted slightly. He shrugged.
Everything that he had said slowly sank in. I can’t tell you everything. I can’t explain. My face felt hot. I had been deceived. Lied to. And, most of all, I found out that the man I loved was a gun dealer, and that his huge shipments of them was complicated. I hated guns. I hated the violence and death they left in their wake. I hated the shady criminals that relied on them for income, and I felt terribly sorry for the people they crippled, killed and maimed.