nearly so clear as they thought it would be.
She had been Christine Sullivan’s friend. That part had been absolutely
sincere. A last reminder of real people in the midst of the sybaritic
life Walter Sullivan lived. Where everyone was not only beautiful, like
Christine Sullivan was, but educated, well-connected and sophisticated,
all things Christine Sullivan was not and never would be. And because of
that burgeoning friendship Christine Sullivan had begun to tell Wanda
things she shouldn’t have, including, finally, the location and contents
of the vault constructed behind a mirrored door.
Wanda was convinced that the Sullivans had so much, they couldn’t
possibly miss so little. The world did not work that way, Luther knew,
and Wanda probably did too, but that didn’t matter now.
After a lifetime of hardship, where money was always too scarce, Wanda
had gone for her lottery win. Just like Christine Sullivan had, neither
of them realizing just how high the price for such things really was.
Luther had flown to Barbados, would have gotten a message to Wanda there
if she hadn’t already left. He had sent the letter to her mother. Edwina
would have shown it to her.
But had she believed him? Even if she had, Christine Sullivan’s life
had still been sacrificed. Sacrificed, as Wanda would have seen it, to
Wanda’s greed and desire to have things she had no right to. Luther
could almost see those thoughts running through his friend’s mind as she
drove out, alon@, to that deserted spot; as she unscrewed the cap to get
at those pills, as she drifted into permanent unconsciousness.
And he had not even been able to attend the funeral. He could not tell
Edwina Broome how sorry he was, without risking getting her pulled. into
this nightmare. He had been as close to Edwina as he had to Wanda, in
some ways even closer. He and Edwina had spent many nights trying to
dissuade Wanda from her plan, to no avail. And only when it dawned on
them that she would do it with or without Luther did Edwina ask Luther
to take care of her daughter. Not let her go to prison again.
His eyes finally turned to the personals in the newspaper and it took
him only a few seconds to find the one he was looking for. He did not
smile when he read it. Like Bill Burton, Luther did not believe Gloria
Russell had any redeeming qualities.
He hoped they believed this was only about money. He pulled out a piece
of paper and began to write.
“TRAce THE AccouNT.” BuRTon sAT AcRoss FRom THE CHW of Staff in her
office. He sipped on a Diet Coke but wished for something stronger.
“I’m already doing that, Burton.” Russell put her earring back on as she
replaced the phone in its cradle.
Collin sat quietly -in a corner. The Chief of Staff had not yet
acknowledged his presence. although he had walked in with Burton twenty
minutes ago.
“When does he want the money again?” Burton looked at her.
“If a wire transfer does not reach the designated account by close of
business, there will be no tomorrow for any of us.” She swept her eyes
across to Collin and then returned them to Burton.
“Shit.” Burton stood up.
Russell glowered at him. ‘I thought you were taking care of this,
Burton.”
He ignored the stare. “How does he say he’s going to work the drop?”
“As soon as the money is received he’ll provide the location where the
item will be.”
“So we gotta trust him?”
“So it would seem.”
“How does he know you’ve even gotten the letter yet?”
Burton started to pace.
“It was in my mailbox this morning. My mail is delivered in the
afternoon.”
Burton collapsed in a chair. “Your fucking mailbox! You mean he was
right outside your house?”
“I doubt if he would have allowed someone else to deliver this
particular message.”
“How’d you know to check the mailbox?”
“The flag was up.” Russell almost smiled.
“Ms guy has got balls, I’ll give him that, Chief.”
“Apparently bigger ones than either of you.” She concluded the statement
by staring at Collin for a full minute.