“I thought you had me vetted.”
“Let’s be frank. The woman came to you with an outlandish story and a bag of cash. Her claims would make most people doubt her sanity, yet you took the job. One type of man might refuse. Another might see an opportunity to take advantage.”
I made my hand into a gun and fired at Pinocchio’s nose. The puppet didn’t flinch. He was a helluva puppet.
“Luckily for Adele, I’m a third type. Is there a second reason you called?”
“Yes. To explain the true reason you were hired.”
“You don’t believe the Men in Black kidnapped your son?”
Corbin Schumacher hesitated. When he spoke again his voice was softer, but somehow more threatening.
“I’m speaking difficult truths, Mr. Cole, but let’s be clear. I will not allow you to take advantage of her. I also will not allow you to demean her.”
The pain in his voice left me embarrassed.
“I apologize. I was trying to lighten what’s clearly a painful subject, and I made a mess of it. I’m sorry.”
He sounded tired when he continued.
“Josh hasn’t been kidnapped. This is Josh being Josh, ignoring her.”
“Why would Josh ignore her?”
“Because he can. He’s self-absorbed, arrogant, irresponsible, and rotten with privilege.”
“Oh. The usual reasons.”
“He’s probably in his hobbit hole right now, playing video games or wasting his life with one of his degenerate friends. If he’s out of town, well, since he has no job and lives off his mother, he might be gone for days.”
“His mother told me he’s a journalist. With a successful podcast.”
Schumacher laughed.
“If you call pandering to fools on a homemade talk show no one has heard of journalism. I don’t. He isn’t. Period.”
Period.
“Regardless, Adele has spun herself into a frenzy with this kidnap business. The stress isn’t good for her.”
“Hence, me.”
“Correct. I expect you’ll find him in a day or two, and end this nightmare.”
“And if it takes longer?”
“If you need help, call Wendy. If Wendy can’t help, I have other resources.”
Resources was an interesting word.
“What do you do for a living, Mr. Schumacher?”
“As little as possible. I was a teacher once at the college level. I’m retired.”
“What if I find your son but he won’t contact his mother?”
“Your mission is complete when you locate my son.”
Mission was another interesting word.
“Then, if you would, call Wendy. Wendy will take over.”
“Do Wendy and Kurt work for you or Adele?”
“They work for Adele. Like you.”
“Why would Adele need bodyguards?”
“Is that what she called them?”
“She called them helpers.”
“So they are. They drive, run errands, whatever Adele wants.”
I didn’t respond, and after a while he sounded tired again.
“Mr. Cole. Adele and I were married a long time. We worked under strenuous conditions for almost as long, and these conditions took a toll. Especially on her. When our marriage ended, I didn’t stop caring for her.”
He paused, but only for a moment.
“Adele believes our son is being held by the government in Area 51. She actually believes this. She believes our phone calls are monitored by artificial intelligence, corporations manipulate our biometrics, and half a hundred other ludicrous notions. If Adele watches the news, she can’t sleep because murderers creep past her window. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Wendy and Kurt keep the monsters away.”
“Yes. A last point, and I’ll let you get on with it. As I said, I’m pleased you agreed to help.”
His voice firmed up again.
“But I don’t know you. Don’t be tempted to run up the bill. I’m not Adele.”
Corbin Schumacher stopped. He was waiting for a response, so I let him wait before I answered.
“A gentleman came to see me about ten years ago. Nice man. A retired physician. He was frantic. His grandchildren—a boy and a girl—had been abducted by their mother—his daughter-in-law was a foreign national—and taken out of the country. Mom refused to bring them back to the U.S., and wouldn’t let their father or grandparents see them or speak to them. I agreed to find them and arrange for their return.”