Chapter Eighteen
Preparation

The next day it was cold, very cold, when they left the building. Even though it was only five the sun had already begun its descent, and the shadows of the buildings were slanted and dark. Dominic had the car waiting at the front curb, as usual. As usual he held the door, and he and Stephen waited for Mina to enter. But this time she did not slide right in.

She hesitated, looking at the open door, then glanced to her left, toward the employee parking lot. Many of the employees had left, and there were only a few cars. Her own junker squatted in the middle of the lot. The ground around it looked littered and neglected. *I can almost visualize it up on cinder blocks.* She took a few steps up the sidewalk, toward the lot. Yes, she'd cursed the car heartily, but it had served her for a long, long time, and she found (absurdly) that she missed it. *I get chauffered wherever I want to go in a car that probably cost ten times what I've made in my best year, and I want my POS back.*

"Miss O'Connell?"

She didn't flinch away from the touch on her elbow, but she hitched her purse strap higher on her shoulder, breaking the contact. Then she took a deep breath and turned to look at the two men. Stephen's expression was bland and courteous--Dominic's sardonic, and almost challenging. *That's it, you bastard. Time to look things in the face.* "Look, I went to the bank on my lunch hour."

"Yes?" Stephen knew this. Lamont's men kept close track of Mina, providing him with photos at every opportunity. He had a thick sheaf in his briefcase right now. Once he was home they would be picked over, and his favorites would be taken down to the tiny room in the basement and tacked to the wall, joining his ever expanding gallery. Then he would sit and contemplate the images of his hider, and most likely pleasure himself.

"I went to put in a personal loan application. I'm hoping they'll approve enough for me to get another car."

Both Dominic and Stephen frowned. Dominic's voice was a little snippy. "I told you I'm working on it."

"And told me, and told me, and told me. It's been almost three weeks. Look, I don't want to sound ungrateful, but enough is enough. If it's taking you this long to get ahold of a used part, and if buying a new part would be as much as the whole car is worth, I might as well cut my losses, see if I can get a few bucks for scrap, and start over."

"I can sympathize with your frustration, Miss O'Connell, but it's rather nippy out here. Could we discuss this in the car?" Stephen asked quietly.

Mina stuffed her hands into her coat pockets so he wouldn't see that she was balling them into fists. "Of course. How inconsiderate of me." She stalked back and got into the car. She didn't see the look that Stephen and Dominic exchanged as they got into the car.

As they pulled out, Stephen said, "If you'll pardon me for asking, Miss O'Connell, how much are you trying to borrow?"

She gritted her teeth. *Good God, this man is supposed to be the cream of society. How fucking rude can he get? Or do I just not register on the 'need to be polite' meter?* "I tell you what, if you'll forgive me for *telling you to piss off* not answering, I'll forgive you for asking."

He blinked. "I see. I seem to have offended you. I apologize."

She sighed. *He can't really be that clueless, can he?* "It's all right, Mr. Baxter. It's just that... well, there aren't many things more private than a person's financial situation."

"Except their love life," said Dominic.

That earned him a glare. "Well, gee, since you knew that, I'm surprised you mentioned it."

"Oo, touchy, touchy. I guess the wait is getting on your nerves. Hold out for another couple of days, and I should have it taken care of for you."

Mina made a sound of exasperation. "I won't know anything till tomorrow or the next day. They do everything but check your tonsils these days, but since I don't have any collateral, that may speed things up."

"What type of car do you have in mind?" Stephen asked.

"One that runs," she said shortly.

"I meant what model or make?"

"Mr. Baxter, with the kind of money I expect to get I look for four wheels, a roof, doors that close, and an engire that will actually run. Everything else is gravy."

"You don't even have a preferred color?"

"What would be the point?" Her voice was a little louder than she had intended. She sighed. "I'm sorry. Look, if I'm very, very lucky, I might get as much as a thousand at interest just this side of a loan shark territory. Since you don't even begin to find decent vehicles for less than around two thousand, I just don't torment myself with speculations about what I want--I worry about what I can get. I know you mean well, but have you ever had to buy a used car?" Stephen thought. "And I'm not talking about a classic collector's item."

"No, no I haven't." He studied Mina. "We live in different worlds, Miss O'Connell--I'm aware of that. Please don't be offended if I try to understand yours a little better."

Mina closed her eyes briefly. *Crap. And now I feel like a bitch again.* "Sorry if I'm touchy. I just... I'm not used to people being so interested in my business."

"I'm surprised--you're an interesting woman." She gave him an incredulous look. "No, you are. Yes, you're not a flamboyant, showy sort, but you have depth. And I'm not the only one who's noticed. That security man, Turner?" She squinted, eyebrows pinching down. "Yes, Turner. I think he fancies you."

*Fancies--what an odd, old fashioned word.* "He fancies himself."

Stephen smiled. "Yes, I think you're right there. Has he been bothering you much?"

"No more than anyone else with double X chromosomes, I suppose."

"Well, I want you to know that if he harrasses you, you should file a complaint. I can promise you that it will be taken very seriously. Now, to move on to more pleasant matters, would you be interested in earning some extra cash?" Dominic glanced into the rearview mirror, studying his boss in surprise. What was Stephen up to now?

Mina stared back at Baxter suspiciously. *Oh, man, am I about to be propositioned? Surely not. He just talked to me about filing sexual harrassment complaints, that's hardly a lead in to an attempted pick-up. A month ago I would have said that he was too asexual for me to worry about that, but not since I saw him playing handball.* "A raise?"

"That's not out of the question, but I don't think any reasonable raise would do you much good. No, I was thinking of offering you some moonlighting work, doing basically what you already do--data transcription."

She was silent, thinking. If the work didn't take up too much time, and the pay made it worth while... "What exactly," she said slowly, "would be involved?"

"I'd like to modernize the family records. They're quite extensive, going back to my grandfather's boyhood. I'll preserve the hard copies, of course, but I want to get it all on disc, just in case there's ever, oh, a flood, or fire and they are destroyed. You could do that, couldn't you?"

"Yes, I could. It's exactly what I do at work. I'm even good at interpretting bad handwriting. What are the particulars--hours and pay?"

"Let's see. Oh, say, two or three hours, three or four days a week. Twenty dollars an hour?"

Mina almost bit her tongue. *Shit! That could be over two hundred a week! If I can get him to pay cash and don't have to have taxes and social security taken out that'll earn me more than my take-home pay. Act casual, don't be too eager.* "That sounds interesting. The only problem is that I don't own a computer. We'd have to make arrangements for me to use mine at work afterhours."

"That won't be necessary--I have an excellent setup at home."

She was silent for a moment. "You mean go to your house to work?"

"Yes. It's located in my study, so you wouldn't be disturbed. It would be quite easy to just bring you home with me. You could work for a few hours, perhaps have supper since it will be so late, and then Dominic can take you home." Mina was silent again, but Stephen could see that her mind was racing. *I hope I haven't misjudged. I have to strike a balance between making it attractive, and not making it too attractive. I have to use her greed... Oh, be honest Stephen--it isn't really greed, it's need. But I have to play on it without getting her suspicious.*

*His house. I've never worked in anyone's house before. I'm not sure I want to. It seems too... intimate.* Stephen was waiting patiently, his expression expectant. *Oh, come on, Mina. It isn't like he's asking you to tidy up his bedroom, or scrub the toilets. And the money... With an income like that, I wouldn't need to settle for just what I could buy outright with what I get at the bank... IF I get anything from the bank. I could manage decent car payments if it was going to go on for awhile.* "How long do you expect it to take?"

Stephen shrugged. "I don't have a time frame, really. There is a good bit of material. You can just work at your own pace."

"I think that we could come to some sort of agreement."

Stephen's smiles were rare and usually muted, but this time it was bright and pleased. "Excellent! Perhaps you could start this evening?"

"No, I couldn't start tonight. I need a day or so."

"Why?"

She looked at him. "Mr. Baxter, I don't have much of a life, but I do have a life. I need more time."

"Of course. I'm sorry. I seem to put my foot in it a good deal where you're concerned. Tomorrow?"

"Yes, that would be all right." They were pulling up in front of her apartment building. As they stopped, she reached for the door, opening it. Stephen laid a hand on her arm and she stopped. Again she tensed, but she didn't pull away. *It doesn't mean anything, and this man can give me a good bit of money for honest work.*

"Miss O'Connell, it would be better if you didn't mention this arrangement to anyone. I'll be paying you in cash, and there's no reason for us to bring the federal government into this, is there? It will be a private arrangement."

*Oh, ho. Perhaps not entirely honest work, but I can live with that.* "Sure, no problem."

"Good." Stephen released her, but he allowed his hand to slide down her arm as he did. When she glanced at him suspiciously he gave her a charming smile, sliding his hand under her elbow in the gallant gesture of a gentleman helpin a lady out of a car. Mina exitted, nodding good-bye, and hurried toward the entrance.

They pulled away. After they drove a block, Dominic whistled softly. "Well, aren't you the smooth mover? Boss, that was some of the slickest improvisation I've ever seen. You'd make an excellent scam artist--you think on your feet."

"Thank you, Dominic. I'm quite flattered."

"So, you going to... um, accomodate her tomorrow?"

Stephen opened his briefcase across his knees. There was a thick stack of glossy photographs inside. The top one had been taken in the company gym. Mina was on a stationary bike, dressed in loose tee-shirt and shorts. Stephen stroked one finger down the white line of her flexed leg. "No, there's no hurry now. I know how banking is these days, and she's unlikely to get any sort of decent loan on a first try. Even if she does, it will take her awhile to find a car. After all, it isn't as if she can go trotting around, making comparisons, is it? No, I'll give her a couple of days to settle in, get comfortable. I like the idea of having her in my house before she's confined." He rifled the photos, picking up one that showed Mina peering through the door of her cubicle with an almost whimsical expression on her face. "I wonder what she was looking at here?"

"Is that the one in her office?" Dominic chuckled. "Lamont said he was pretending to photograph ol' Hollachuck, and the old gal was primping like a highschool cheerleader."

"Hollachuck is a fawning old twat, but she's very efficient at running her section."

When they arrived at the house Stephen stopped by the kitchen. "Fulham, we'll be having a dinner guest tomorrow, and possibly for another couple of nights after that."

Miss Fulham had been peeling potatos. She wiped her hands on a towel, smiling at Stephen. "If this was just one night, I'd assume it was for business."

Dominic was hanging up his jacket on a hook by the back door. "You're right--it's pleasure. We're gonna have to start laying in a few more supplies, old doll."

Fulham clasped her hands. "Oh, you're going to bring home your new pet, and I get to see her! How wonderful! What should I fix, Mister Baxter? I want her first meal here to be special."

"Well, when we went to the restaurant she ordered Lobster Thermidor, but she might think something was off if she had anything that elaborate when she thought she was just coming over to work."

"I know--I'll make beouf bourgignon. Simple, but elegant. That and a cheese souflee, and perhaps a nice parfait for dessert."

"That sounds marvelous. I'll be in the basement."

He left, and Dominic got a beer out of the refrigerator. "He has another batch of photos for the meditation room."

"Gracious, he must have that thing papered by now."

Dominic drank deeply, and sat at the table. "There isn't a speck of wall showing at the back, and he has both sides covered pretty thick about half way to the door." He chuckled. "When he sits on that cushion, he's just about drowning in a sea of Mina O'Connells. I'll probably have to go down and roust him at dinner time."

When Dominic went downstairs he knew immediately that Stephen wasn't in the Meditation room--the panel to the Tank was standing open. Dominic paused outside it for a moment, once again admiring it's construction. Fitting this place up had cost a bundle, especially since the discretion of the workmen had to be assured. They'd told them that it was a 'safe room', in case there was a home invasion, and they'd at least pretended to accept the explanation. Once it was finished Stephen had simply had another group come in and add an effective lock and bolt on the outside of the door.

The solid wooden door set in the wall behind the panel was ajar, also. Dominic tapped, and heard Stephen call, "Come in."

The tank was a narrow rectangle that had once served as a laundry room. It was about eight feet wide and not quite twice as long. The walls and the low ceiling were enamalled white, and the floor was polished cement. The floor slanted slightly from each side to a small, sunken drain--a reminder of the room's original purpose.

There was an open shower stall in one of the far corners, and a chemical toilet beside it. The opposite corner was fenced in by a sort of cage made of heavy mesh, like that used in security areas. Behind it was a television, and above it was a video camera, angled so that every portion of the room was visible.

There was a platform bed in the middle of the room. The room was so narrow that there was only a little more than a foot of space between the foot and the wall. Stephen was sitting on the bed, watching a news report on the televison. When Dominic entered he used a remote to shut off the tv, dropping the remote on the bed. "Suppertime already?"

"Fulham said to tell you that if you don't hurry, don't fuss at her if the rolls are stone cold." As Stephen swung around to get off the bed on the door side Dominic said, "You really enjoy kinda communing down here, don't you?"

"I'm trying to get a sense of what it will be like for my pet, but I know that it's in vain. It's like I told Mina--I know we're in different worlds." He followed Dominic out of the room, locking the door and throwing the bolt. There was no need for it now, since it was unoccupied, but Stephen Baxter was a methodical man. He shut the panel, and it blended seamlessly with the other woodwork. To open it again he would have to press in a particular spot to release a spring, allowing it to move out enought to be grasped, and moved.

As they started up the stairs Stephen continued. "How can I expect to know how it will be for her? After all, I can just walk out of there at any time."