Vital Signs

Part 34

While pedaling my bike to work I can't stop thinking about my heartbroken daughter. Who do I need to speak with to get a rational explanation for why her project was rejected from the science competition? A Trollamex-funded science competition. Megs hasn't said it but I know that she's thinking what I'm thinking. Word got back to Trollamex that some kid named Robiski had submitted a science project that demonstrates the harmful effects of lawn chemicals. And Trollamex wasn't having it. Maybe it's a crazy coincidence but I need confirmation. 

When I ride across the parking lot toward the entrance of building 4, I notice a big, black, ominous-looking SUV parked in the rear of the lot. The windows are tinted, but with the morning sun shining through, I can see the silhouette of a person sitting in the vehicle. A man with two protrusions on his forehead. I believe I just received my confirmation.

After locking my bicycle to the bike rack, I enter building 4, and ride the elevator up to suite 207. I swipe my key card and open the glass doors adorned with the Dunning & Brannigan logo. As I step into the reception area, Carl exits the conference room clutching a steaming coffee mug.

"I'll take that key card," he says, offering an outstretched hand. "Let's not throw water on the cats, Phil. You're already knee-deep in quicksand."

"Cats? What's going on?"

He can't look me in the eye. "Vandalism and accepting stolen property. Sanchez has already confessed."

"Who's Sanchez?"

Emiliano Sanchez? He didn't want to implicate you but you might have noticed the security cameras throughout the office park. Caught you red-handed. Did you or did you not ask him to deface private property?"

"I asked him for a small piece of sod."

"He's been let go and unfortunately, so are you."

"You had him fired?"

"Let's have that card."

"Don't do this, Carl."

"Let's be honest, Phil. You never wanted to synchronize and synergize."

Who does?

A uniformed security guard in the hallway raps on the office door.

Carl gulps his coffee then says, "I was hoping we could do this without involving the authorities."

"This is weapons-grade insanity. Just yesterday you told me that I'm a rockstar at Aunt Betsy's. And today I'm fired because I took a tiny bit of sod? Come on. That's not what's going on here."

He looks past me at the security guard. "Do we need to have you escorted from the premises?" 

"What happened to you, Carl?"

"That's an odd question coming from you."

I slap the key card into his hand and storm into my office.

"You need to vacate the premises. Immediately." He glances at his watch. "I got a hard start at 3."

I emerge from my office clutching Jillian's pencil holder. I stuff it into my backpack.

"You know the first call I'm going to make?" I say as I zip my bag closed. "Brenna McSorley."

He shakes his head. "I don't think that's the way to go on this."

"She was right."

"About what?"

"About all that incriminating information on Bernie's laptop."

Carl is momentarily stunned.

"There is a lot of information, I mean a LOT of information on that computer that doesn't paint a very flattering picture of you and Dunning and Brannigan. Brenna is pretty sure that some material definitely qualifies as criminal."

Carl is noticeably paler. He forces an authoritative tone that lands flat. "That laptop is company property. You need to return it at once."

"I don't have it. It's in a secure location. And that's not the only damaging evidence."

"What else? What are you saying?"

"I think it's probably time to check Craigslist for a trained bicycle-riding bear and see if any circuses are hiring."

There's a jingle of bracelets preceding a light tap-tap-tap on the glass doors. It's Lowell behind her Jackie Kennedy sunglasses and Sonny in his newsboy hat standing in the hallway smiling at me.

Before I open the door, I glance over my shoulder at Carl and give him a sarcastic grin. This is going to be fun.

Carl waves the security guard away.

"I hope we're not intruding," says Lowell as she enters. "Sonny and I were on our way back from a meeting and we had an inspired idea. About the mini-pastries. We're high-key excited about it. Since we were in the neighborhood, I took a chance that you were available to finesse."

She slips her sunglasses onto her head and offers her hand to Carl. "Lowell Hester from Aunt Betsy's Homemade Donuts." 

She smiles at me when she emphasizes "homemade."

"Carl Dunning. I think we've spoken on the phone."

"Yes, yes, of course."

Sonny removes his cap. "Hey. I'm Sonny."

Lowell notices my backpack and says, "Oh. You were on your way out. I should have called."

"Carl just fired me."

Sonny's jaw falls open. Lowell turns from me to Carl then back again.

Carl is tongue-tied.

I sling my bag over my shoulder. "My daughter did a science project on the harmful effects of lawn chemicals and since Carl's biggest client manufactures lawn chemicals they had me fired."

"That's not..." Carl shakes his head.

Lowell narrows her eyes and leans closer. "This is a joke, right?"

"Nope," I reply. "These are the kinds of people you're dealing with at Dunning and Brannigan."

Carl chokes out a sentence. "That's a gross mischaracterization of the situation. Distorted optics."

"Sometimes you just gotta take the L, Carl." I extend my hand to Lowell. "It was a pleasure working with you. You, too, Sonny. Tell PJ I said hi."

With that, I'm out the door leaving them standing waist-deep in a pool of awkwardness watching the rising tide of drama roll in.