Chapter 11: Past Due

On Saturday afternoon I carried the watch back to the Danforth building in its silver box.

I had thought about mailing it.

But Claire would call it a gesture, and I wanted to put the box in her hand and say no to her face.

The lobby was not empty, though it was a weekend.

Six men in work jackets stood at the front desk, shouting.

"We want to talk to somebody who can sign a check!"

"Forty-five days past due! You think we're a charity?"

"Where's your CEO?"

A security guard had both hands up and was saying, "Gentlemen, please."

I had never seen a supplier in that lobby, and I had walked through it for six years.

Danforth had always paid on the first of the month. That had been my rule.

I stood by the elevator and watched.

One of the men turned and saw me.

"You," he said. "You used to run operations. Where did the money go?"

"I don't work here anymore."

"Then who does?"

I did not have an answer.

The elevator opened, and Darius stepped out in a fresh suit. He looked at the crowd and put on a calm, serious face.

"Gentlemen, I'm so sorry. A short delay with the Tolland startup costs. Ms. Danforth has asked me to handle everything personally."

"We've heard that before!"

"I promise you'll be paid by Friday."

He saw me over their heads, and his smile hardened, just for a second.

Then he turned his back and let them follow him into a conference room.

I took the elevator to the top floor.

The corridor was dim.

Claire's office door stood open, and she was sitting alone in the half dark with her heels off and a stack of invoices on the desk.

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