Elgin’s Trial
By Mr. J.
Chapter XVII: Double Duty
Tracy shoves the flash drive across the oak table. Matt picks it up and cocks his head, as if seeing one for the first time. He’d read about of dozens of such smoking guns before—cassettes, eight tracks, mp3s—but grasping one in his palm is another matter. Such a tiny object shouldn’t be able to ruin the lives of hundreds of people. Yet here it is in front of him, the nail in the coffin that will ruin Divinex forever. All it’d take is one mouse click, and history would be altered forever.
Now he knows what Truman must’ve felt like.
“You’re saying this drive contains all the names and dates of this Frank guy’s conquests?” Tracy nods.
“That’s right, every single one—right down to their residence, whereabouts, and the description of their capture. This is a gold mine, Matt. Think about all the people we could save.”
“I don’t know.” Matt shoves the device back towards her. “I don’t feel comfortable about publishing this.”
“Why does this have to be so complicated? I thought you were a journalist.”
“I am. But I also know putting this in the air could get these people killed or worse. I mean, what if he finds out? More importantly, what if he finds out about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” Tracy pulls her brown leather coat snug against her body. “Don’t worry about the girls. If something happens to them, it isn’t like we pulled the trigger ourselves.”
Matt pauses to sip from his coffee mug. “That still doesn’t make it right.”
“Collateral damage.”
“Famous last words.”
Matt does have a point. Suppose Frank finds out about her treachery? She already knows what happened to Jill, and she doubts Frank has any plans on repeating that experience. The memory of her palpating heart as he blindfolded her is still fresh. It turned out to be a cute gag, but next time, it might not be.
“Don’t worry about my safety”
“You don’t get it.” Matt slams his fist against the table. “You’re my source. It’s my job to worry!”
Patrons turn their heads at the sound of his raised voice. He coughs and adopts a sotto voice, feeling responsible for drawing attention towards him and the woman risking her life to destroy one of the most irresponsible corporations in the world. For her part, Tracy starts to wonder if picking McSweeney’s was such a good idea after all on account of her boyfriend dying and all.
She refocuses her attention on the conversation at hand, feeling self-conscious without her earrings with her. She didn’t give them much thought when she got dressed, but after several weeks with them on she almost feels naked without them. But that’s neither here or there.
“What happened to your earrings?” Matt’s eyes zero in on the space where the jewelry on her ears should be.
“I didn’t feel like wearing them.” She shrugs.
“Well, if you ask me, you look even more beautiful without them.”
“Thanks for the compliment. Your shirt looks nice by the way.”
“I happen to be partial to Merona myself.”
Tracy chuckles. Even without the lubrication of alcohol, bantering with Matt almost reminds her of being with Jeremy early on in their relationship. But that was before Divinex, before he learned that the awful truth that undid him. In a perfect world, she and Matt would be a great match, emphasis on the perfect part.
Tracy panics as she glances at her watch.
“You’d better go.” She pushes the USB drive back towards him. “He’s going to be here any second.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.” She commands him.
Disappointed, he gathers his coat and trudges off with the evidence in hand. As he leaves, he brushes against an older man, looking dapper in his long dark coat and pressed tie. He could easily pass for the Man in the Gray Flannel Suit. If, you know, they still sold gray flannel suits, or something. He glances back to notice Matt, looking at his feet as he trudges towards his car.
Tracy waves toward McSweeney’s newest patron.
“How was traffic?”
“One hell of a mother.” Frank takes off his coat. “I just passed this guy who had this real hangdog look, like his girlfriend dumped him or something. It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Probably just one of the drunks.” Tracy laughs it off.
“Are you hungry?” Frank reaches into his wallet. “I got my company credit card with me, expense accounts and all.”
“Don’t bother. I just ate.”
Gazing into his beaming eyes, Tracy doesn’t see a man—she sees a boy. Even his appearance is more youthful. It’s as though by her mere presence he has regressed several years. She orders a cup of coffee and leans in attentively, pretending to hang onto his every word.
“I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”
“Me too. That reminds me, I got some good news.”
“What?”
“We’re expanding our business.”
“Really? Awesome.”
“Yep. Heard of Fire and Ice?”
“What’s that?” Tracy plays dumb.
“You’ve never heard of Fire and Ice? It’s the most popular perfume product to hit the market since Chanel.”
“How did that come about?”
“One of the scientists in our cosmetics division was monkeying around one weekend, mixing this and that chemical. Competition was fierce in the market, and we were looking for an in. Well, as a lark she mixed a little aphrodisiac in with musk and some masking agents. We focus grouped it and boy, did it prove popular! To make a long story short, we set up a subsidiary company. I see this becoming the next Viagra. Cool, huh?”
“How long ago was that?”
“Several months ago—it doesn’t really matter.” Frank orders himself a drink. “What does matter is that we’re about to be stinking rich.”
Tracy can’t help focusing on the female pronoun. Even if the scientist Frank alluded to and Jill are in fact the same person it’s purely academic at this point. She smiles and raises her glass to Frank, fascinated by his willingness to talk openly with someone he barely knows. She doubts he has any idea who she really is, and heaven willing he never will.
They continue to make small talk over dessert and coffee, discussing current events, pop culture, their favorite reality shows. Frank regales Tracy with war stories of his youth and his transient days afterwards, before he became the regional vice president of one of the biggest conglomerates in the world. When he isn’t busy indulging his depraved lusts, he’s a really funny guy. All things being equal, Tracy could easily see herself spending the night with him.
“You’re a great guy to be around.” She laughs. “Why haven’t you remarried yet?”
“Tracy.” Frank’s eyes take on a steely demeanor. “If there is one thing I’ve learned spending time in this town is that nothing is handed to you—not even love. You have to fight for it. And trust is even harder to find.”
“You could say the same about business. Yet here you are, a man among men.”
“Mark Antony was one of the most bloodthirsty generals ancient Rome ever had, and yet even he pined for love.”
“Love or lust?”
“Touché.” Frank raises his glass in response.
Taking her hand in his, his eyes become watery. Tracy wonders whether he’ll break into tears. Yet he remains stoic despite the display of tenderness. The moment is fraught with tension.
“I don’t know how to say this, so I’ll spit it out. I—I’m growing to like you, Tracy. I can’t say that about the other women in my life. You’re like my best friend, you know that? I know these last several weeks have been tough, but they’re bearable because of you.”
“Gee.” Tracy blushes. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You would never do anything to hurt me, would you?” Frank’s voice becomes cold. “I’d hate to have something happen between us.”
“Of course not. I’d never dream of it.”
“Good. That’s all I wanted to know.”
Tracy waves to him as they go their separate ways later that night. A chill runs up her spine as she drives to her apartment. Would she be his next victim too?