She paused. “Maybe we aren’t doing this right.”
By now they’d reached a huge display for Prostatis: Responsibility. Efficiency. Dignity. was written across the back of the booth, lit by dramatic spotlights.
Michelle’s heart beat faster. Standing in front of display was Randall Gates, shaking hands with another man in a business suit.
“Keep filming,” Caitlin said in a low voice. She pasted on a smile and headed over to Gates.
“Caitlin!” Gates gave the other man’s hand one last pump and a good-bye pat on the shoulder. “So nice to see you here.”
“Hi, Randy,” she said brightly.
By now, Gates had caught sight of Michelle and her camera. “What’s this about?” he said, still smiling.
“I haven’t exactly decided yet.”
“Should we go have a little sit-down?” he said in a low voice.
“A sit-down? Is there something you’d like to discuss?”
“Maybe not with…” He turned to Michelle. “Could you…?”
“No, she could not,” Caitlin interrupted. “If there’s something you want to say to me, why don’t you just say it?”
“I…” He hesitated. Michelle zoomed in on his face. She watched his jaw tighten. His eyes flicked in her direction, then back to Caitlin. “I’m just a little confused about some of what I’ve heard coming out of the San Francisco event.”
“I can imagine,” Caitlin said. “And I’m still thinking it all through, to be honest with you. Why don’t we table that sit-down till I get back to Houston and take it up at the next board meeting? We can call a special one if you’d like.”
“I would. The sooner the better.”
“Then we’ll do that.”
“Good.” He hesitated, his eyes flicking at the camera again as though he couldn’t help it, and then back to Caitlin. “I hope you know that I take my responsibilities as a member of the board very seriously.”
“Of course I do, Randy,” she said. “I know just how much Safer America means to you.” She gave his arm a friendly squeeze. “We’ll catch up later, okay?”
Caitlin turned back to Michelle. “I’m gonna walk down this aisle. Why don’t you hang back and get a shot of me doing that?”
“Will do,” Michelle said.
As Caitlin walked away, Michelle could sense Gates moving closer.
“Just what are you doing?”
Michelle gestured after Caitlin. “What she just asked me to do.”
“Shut that off.”
Something in his voice made her put the camera down. She looked at him. His face was tense, the lines around his mouth rigid.
“You’re supposed to be looking after her,” he said, staring hard at Michelle. “The fact that you’re going along with this makes me wonder whose side you’re really on.”
Christ. Was he actively working with Gary? Did he know about her, about Danny?
Was this a threat?
She stared back. “I’m Caitlin’s employee, Mr. Gates. It’s my job to do what she asks me to do.” She started to raise the camera, then stopped. “And just so you know… I am looking after her.”
She wasn’t in any position to threaten Randall Gates. But she hoped he knew that she meant every fucking word she’d just said.
By the time she got Caitlin in her sights again, Caitlin had gotten caught up in the traffic where two rows crossed. Michelle took a moment to zoom in on her. She wasn’t sure if it would be a good shot or not, but Caitlin was smiling and making conversation with several in a crowd of young women in some kind of uniforms-police explorers? Junior correctional officers?
There was one woman not in a uniform standing just to Caitlin’s side. Something about her felt familiar. Thirty-ish, a little heavy, baseball cap over brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Michelle zoomed in on her.
A gold necklace with a Tinkerbell charm.
Carlene.
“Shit,” Michelle said. She lowered the camera and ran.
Chapter Twenty-NIne
“Oh, there you are,” Caitlin said. “Why were you running?”
Carlene ducked her head and swiveled on her heels.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Michelle demanded. “What are you doing here?”
Carlene ignored her, pushing aside several junior correctional officers, or whatever they were, and hurried down the aisle.
Michelle caught up to her and grabbed her arm, yanked it hard. “I asked you a question.”
“I don’t have to answer you,” Carlene spat out. “You better let go of me. Gary won’t like it if you mess with me.”
Michelle didn’t let go. Not right away. “You tell Gary…”
What? What should she tell him?
Michelle released Carlene’s arm, giving her a little push as she did. “Stay out of my way, Carlene. Leave Caitlin alone.”
“Don’t you think you can just order me around,” Carlene muttered, her eyes glittering behind the lenses of her sturdy pewter glasses. “I’ll kill you, you bitch. And you won’t even see me coming.”
With that, she turned and plunged into the crowd.
Christ, Michelle thought. She should have been more careful. Carlene might look harmless, but she was Gary’s helper, after all. Who knew what she could really do?
She made her way back to Caitlin.
“What in the world was that all about?” Caitlin asked.
“I was filming you, and I saw her go for your purse,” Michelle said. “I think she’s some kind of pickpocket.”
“At a correctional association convention?” Caitlin laughed. “That seems a little foolhardy. Should we call security?”
“I don’t know. She’s gone now. But if we see her again… yeah, we should call.”
“Sounds good, hon.” Caitlin took a step back and seemed to study Michelle. “You came running over like you were gonna tackle her,” she said.
Michelle managed a smile. “I hate seeing people get ripped off.”
“You know what, let’s get out of here,” Caitlin said abruptly. “I don’t think there’s any point in sticking around. All I’m going to do is piss people off.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know.” She suddenly looked exhausted, the recent liveliness that had animated her features drained away. “I need some time to think about how I’m going to handle all of this.”
“Late lunch?” Michelle asked.
This part of Anaheim didn’t feel anything like a real town or city. She didn’t know what the rest of Anaheim was like. What there was here were broad streets, huge blocks of hotels, giant parking lots, a landscape that seemed both monumental and impermanent. There was nothing here with weight or history, nothing that seemed unique, no buildings constructed to human scale, just endless expanses of concrete, asphalt and stucco.
Their choices around the Anaheim Convention Center included something called the Anaheim GardenWalk, where they would find a Bubba Gump Shrimp, P. F. Chang’s, and a Cheesecake Factory, among other things. There was also the Downtown Disney District, which had a La Brea Bakery and a House of Blues, along with a few more upscale options.
They chose a restaurant that offered “Disney Med”-“Modern spins on authentic Mediterranean cuisine.” It also had an extensive wine list.
In the downstairs wood-floored and brick-walled bar, Caitlin picked at her tapas.
“I don’t know, hon,” she said. “I’m just wondering if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew here.”
What should she say? Urge Caitlin to go back to supporting Safer America’s status quo? Would that be enough to derail whatever it was Gary had planned?
“Maybe you shouldn’t rush into anything,” Michelle said.
“I think I have to, now. At least I have to move pretty quick. With this election coming up, I’m either on one side or the other. If I really can’t support working against these propositions, then I have to say so, and I have to act on that.”