Quentin 3
While he showered and shaved he thought about the years he had wasted, the long road back and the training that made him who and what he is today. As a rule, he never thought about yesterday. He thought only of today and the possibility of a tomorrow. Many times his thoughts were for this minute and whether or not there would be another minute to look forward to.
Revived and stimulated he wrapped himself in a towel and went back to the phone. He dialed the number of Sam Wingate and listened as the phone rang five times. He had just started to hang up when Sam finally answered.
"Sam, this is Quentin. Do you have any plans for tonight?"
"No, I'm not busy. I was just playing with the kids. What do you have in mind?"
"I need to go home, Sam. Tonight."
Sam detected the urgency in his voice.
"Is somthing wrong, Quentin?"
"No, everything's alright, I think. I just need to go home and I'm short on time."
"How much time are we talking about?"
"I have to be back here tomorrow morning in time to catch the 12:15 flight to Los Angeles."
"I think we can make it. You won't be able to stay very long, but I think we can get back here before your flight leaves."
"I really hate to ask you on such short notice, but I'll make it worth your time. Are you sure you don't mind?"
"You know I don't mind. I would rather fly than eat and I think you know how I feel about eating."
"I know how you feel about eating because I would rather pay you to fly than pick up the check for your meal. What I don't understand is how you can eat like that and not get fat."
"It's a secret. I'll explain it to you sometime. Do you want to meet me somewhere or do you want me to pick you up at the Garden Plaza?"
"You can pick me up, if it's not too much trouble."
"It won't be any trouble. I'll be there in about twenty minutes. How does that sound?"
"That will be great, Sam, I really appreciate it. Give my love to Lucy and the kids. See you in twenty."
Quentin broke the connection and made a reservation for Sam at the Main Street Motel. It wasn't the best motel in town but it was clean, comfortable and convenient.
He sealed some cash in an evelope and put it into his wallet to pay Sam for the air fare, lodging and inconvenience. Sam was the only real friend he had and he took great care to protect that friendship.
He remembered the time, many years ago, when he was wandering around the streets of Chicago looking for action, when he happened to see a fight in an alley. It looked like a game of cat and mouse with four big guys picking on a small guy. At five feet ten inches and about one hundred fifty pounds, Sam was still on his feet. Barely. Fortunately for Sam, Quentin intervened.
After a few beers, some minor first aid and lessons in self-defense, Quentin knew he had found a good friend. A friend who didn't ask too many questions. A friend who accepted him as he was and didn't try to force him to change or fit into some pre-conceived pattern.
Quickly he packaged the stiletto to mail to Los Angeles, then called Frank Kendall.
Franklin Wayne Kendall wasn't just the attorney for Jerrico Publishing Limited, he was also Quentin's attorney and personal advisor. Frank had accepted the Jerrico business and Jerry's personal business only after Quentin insisted. It made sense that there should be only one attorney taking care of the entire Knight business.
Frank was the only person Quentin could really trust. He never asked too many questions and what Quentin did reveal would never be repeated. No matter what.
"Frank, this is Quentin. Did you get everything fixed?"
"I finished it last week and I've just been waiting to hear from you."
"Is there anything I need to sign?"
"No, everything's in order. I just don't understand why."
"Like I told you, Frank. I'm just tired of the responsibility and I'm ready to get out from under it."
"Well, you're out. All you have left is an old house, five acres of land and whatever you're wearing."
"I'm only wearing a towel but you forgot to mention my toothbrush."
They both chuckled.
"And your toothbrush. I still wish you would tell me what you've got in mind. Are you planning to leave the country for good?"
"Afraid not, Frank. If I leave the country it will be on business and I plan to have a round-trip ticket. I just want to make sure that Jerry has everything he needs and someone like you to help him take care of it. Like I said, I'm tired of the responsibility and I just don't want to play these games any more. I have everything I need."
"I'm trying not to be a real pain in the neck, but I just can't help but feel like you're in some kind of trouble and you don't expect to be walking away from it."
"You worry too much, Frank. I'm not in any kind of trouble that I haven't always been in. But if there were something I needed help with, I'd call you before I let it back me into a corner."
"I hope so, Quentin. If there's anything I can help you with, you know you can always depend on me."
"I'm depending on you now. I'm going home tonight and I plan to tell Jerry about the changes we've made. I'll talk to you in a couple of weeks, but I'm sure you'll be hearing from Jerry in a day or two."
"I'm sure I will. I hate to cut this conversation short, but I have a call on another line. Are you sure there isn't something else I can do?"
"Not now, Frank. I'll call in a couple of weeks."
He hung up the phone, dressed and checked his appearance in the mirror. Satisified, he grabbed the package and a windbreaker, locked the door and headed toward the elevator.
After pressing the 'down' button, he dropped the small package into the mail chute and watched as it fell from view. As usual, the elevator was empty and descended from the thirty-sixth floor without interruption.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal an unusually deserted lobby. As he stepped from the elevator, his dark eyes scanned the lobby to make sure he wasn't walking into a trap. He felt extremely vulnerable without the stiletto strapped to his forearm. Satisfied, he threw the windbreaker over his shoulder and crossed the lobby.
As he approached the large, brass-trimmed, glass doors, Sam's Bronco pulled up under the portico.
The blue and gold uniformed doorman held the glass door open for him, then rushed over to open the door of the Bronco.
"Have an enjoyable evening, Mr Knight."
"Thank you, Gideon. I plan to do just that."
Quentin slid into the front seat of the Bronco. Gideon closed the door and waved as they drove away.
"I didn't expect you to be ready and waiting. You must be in a big hurry."
"I just have to go home and I don't have much time."
"Are you alright?"
"I'm alright, I'm just tired. I haven't been getting much sleep lately."
"You look like you feel terrible. Maybe you should go to the doctor."
"I'll go to the doctor when I get to Los Angeles. I'm sure I'll feel better as soon as I get some sleep."
"I sure hope you're right. Do you want to go somewhere for coffee?"
Quentin looked around, checking out the cars for anything that looked suspicious or possibly dangerous.
"Let's skip the coffee, I'm really short on time."
"If you don't want to stop, there's a thermos and a sack of cookies behind the seat."
"Sounds good. It might be just what I need."
Quentin poured the coffee and handed a cup to Sam. He sipped the steaming liquid gingerly from the paper cup.
"The coffee is good and hot. Tell Lucy I said 'Thank you'."
"What makes you think it was Lucy's idea?"
"It might not have been her idea but she made the coffee."
"What makes you think that?"
"Because your coffee is usually cold and strong enough to grow legs and walk away."
"I'm honored you noticed. I'll be sure to tell her how much you liked the coffee."
Sam parked the Bronco in his usual parking place.
"You get the coffee and cookies and I'll get my gear."
There wasn't much conversation while they readied the plane then settled down inside.
"You have time to take a nap if you're interested."
"Not now, Sam. How about another cup of coffee?"
"No more for me. Won't all that coffee keep you awake?"
"It never has, but I probably won't sleep much anyway."
"If there's anything I can do to help, all you have to do is ask."
"I did, and you're already doing what I need you to do. Just make sure I get back to Chicago on time. How about some cookies?"
"I've already had more than enough. Lucy sent those for you."
Quentin munched on the cookies and finished the thermos of coffee while they talked about Lucy, the kids and life in general. He was thirsty for conversation and thoroughly enjoyed hearing about Sam's family, the perils of the P.T.A. and the lost cat that was found under the house with six kittens.Quentin 4