An Unfinished Story(74)
Whitaker looked at the time. It was four in the morning. He could barely wait to break all this to Claire.
Claire woke with Whitaker on her mind. He deserved to know that she’d turned a corner in her overcoming the loss of David. And that she couldn’t stop thinking about Whitaker. She imagined his breath on her neck, his arms wrapped around her, protecting her from this sometimes harsh world. Removing the rings was definitely not enough of a message. Why couldn’t she just kiss him already?
When she sat down at the breakfast table downstairs, Whitaker sprayed her with a line of words that moved too quickly for her morning brain to comprehend. She put up a hand. “Hold on, slow down. It’s early.” And I was thinking about us.
Whitaker paused. “Are you sure you never met Orlando?”
“Good morning to you too.” The salty smell of bacon wafted over from a table nearby.
“Sorry. Good morning.” He couldn’t stop himself. “I came across something that suggests this story really took place in St. Pete. We’re in the wrong city.”
The nugget of information woke her up. “Why do you say that?”
He told her about his discovery.
“Wait. You read his entire book again?” She couldn’t believe it.
“Just about. I didn’t sleep last night.”
Claire’s eyes widened, thinking that he looked just fine. “You are one determined man. I think you’re reaching. Just because Kevin was going south instead of west on MLK?”
“It’s more than that. It’s not the first time he’s slipped into a St. Pete setting instead of Sarasota. I can’t recall the other example and couldn’t find it, but I remember thinking it was weird. I’m telling you. We’re in the wrong city. Think back. Don’t think about the name Orlando. I’m not even convinced the boy’s name is Orlando. He made up the name Kevin. Why not make up all the characters? Anyway, think back to your time together. Did David ever have anyone help him with chores? Did he ever talk about a kid he’d met? Were there any other parallels to your life?”
“Don’t you think I’ve already gone there?”
“I’m telling you, Claire. Orlando—or whatever his name is—is in St. Pete. Or, at least, he was. It’s not just the subtle mistakes with the setting. It’s that David wrote this book based on a real-life experience. I think he spent a lot of time with Orlando, like more than we are considering. And if so, that wasn’t happening in Sarasota.” Whitaker wiped coffee from his mustache. “To that end, I refuse to believe that no one in David’s life knew of Orlando. I understand that David was hiding him from you. But he had to have told someone.”
Claire stared out the window, watching cars pass by. She didn’t like being reminded that David had been hiding things from her. “I sent the picture to his two best friends, all his brothers and sisters, and both his parents. They’d never seen Orlando before.”
“How about his work? Did you send it to them?”
Claire shook her head. “No. I haven’t really talked to any of them since the funeral.”
Whitaker dipped his chin. “I think we should drive back and visit his office. You said it was on Fourth in St. Pete?”
Claire nodded, trying to process Whitaker’s change of position. “I’m still not convinced enough to think we need to leave Sarasota right now. I think we should stop back by the agency. Did you hear from your contact there, Carissa?”
“Yeah, she texted me last night. Said we can chat today. But she can’t help us if it’s in Sarasota. Remember, we’d be dealing with the placing agency in St. Pete.” Whitaker shook his head. “All I can say is I’ve spent three months reading and tweaking your husband’s story. I’ve gotten to know him. When you’re writing, you see this scene in your head, and you’re putting it down on paper. If he’d made up the scene, he wouldn’t have screwed up the direction. It’s way too much of a coincidence. I think Orlando was in a group home in St. Pete. I think David met him somehow, probably a story similar to what we’ve read.”
Claire dropped her head, feeling the painful impact of a potentially even bigger lie living between David and her. As difficult as such a grand deceit was to accept, it was equally hard to argue with the man in front of her. He was on a mission, and he was showing the genius that he’d been hiding for so long.
One more thought came to her. “What about the picture? David and Orlando were obviously here at some point.”
Whitaker nodded confidently, as if he’d already thought about it. “David brought him down here to a game. Maybe it was a team Orlando liked.”
Claire was beginning to process all the possibilities, if in fact her husband had been keeping this secret from her. “Or maybe he didn’t want to run into anyone he knew. Someone that might tell me they saw David and a boy at a game.”
“Yeah,” Whitaker agreed. “I thought of that too.”
They both ate homemade granola with fresh berries and raw wildflower honey, and they talked about their next moves. After paying the bill, Whitaker asked, “Why don’t you send the photo to the guys at his firm?”
Claire set down her spoon. “No. I’d rather go by in person.”
“Fair enough,” Whitaker agreed, taking a last bite. After chasing it with a sip of coffee, he said, “I need to run and grab my things. Meet back down in twenty?”