Flying Too Close to the Sun George Jehn (best non fiction books of all time .txt) 📖

Without hesitation she said, “I’ll speak with him now,” and went upstairs.

Erik paced back and forth. Was he the “piece of shit” his father claimed? Would Sal help? Would he hold on to Carol; his career; his life?

After explaining the entire story and the amount owed, with tears in her eyes she pleaded, “Please Dad, Erik desperately needs your help.”

“I can’t access that amount immediately,” he muttered. As he looked at the young lady standing before him, he recalled when he had first fallen in love with Anita, a lifetime ago. Like her mother, Carol had the same warm heart, worth more than all the glamour in Hollywood. “You have to answer one question before I’ll consider this.” He hesitated. “Do you love Erik?” adding with a knowing sigh, “and I don’t mean only a physical attraction. I can probably get a home equity loan, quickly. But the cost will be burdensome. Will he repay me?”

Carol wouldn’t beg and replied with so much conviction it surprised even her, “I do love him, very much. I can’t define what that means right now. But, I’m absolutely certain he’ll repay you as soon as possible. Without you he’ll lose his, our, future.”

“What about his parents?”

“They’re an entirely different story, from a different country and culture and drink a lot. I believe that because of them Erik has lots of private wounds, which are hopefully in the process of healing. The bottom line’s that his father wouldn’t loan him a dime and threw him out of the house. It’s you or nothing.”

“All right,” Sal finally whispered, wondering how anyone couldn’t help their child in a time of dire need. Glancing at his watch, he said, “I’ll go to the bank first thing in the morning. My credit rating’s good, so it won’t take long.”

“There’s more.”

“What?”

She told him the missing money story and how it might appear when money suddenly surfaced.

Sal dismissed her concern with a mere wave of the hand. “Don’t worry. Just have him tell whoever asks I advanced it. I have nothing to hide.”

“Thanks, Dad. I love you.” Carol kissed him and immediately relayed the good news to Erik. As a wave of gratitude ran through him, he went to Sal and also thanked him profusely.

.     .     .

Erik’s stomach was churning when he arrived at the Rodriguez home late the following morning. Maybe Sal had changed his mind? He and Carol cautiously stepped into the den, together. As they sat down Sal sensed their anxiety, so he immediately handed over a cashier’s check for full restitution.

“I can never thank you enough for what you’ve done.” Erik took a step forward and seeing the older man through tear distorted vision hugged him. “I’ll repay every last cent. You have my word.”

Sal let out a large breath and embraced Erik, the son he never had, while brushing his own tears aside. “Life’s a bitch. Get the hell out of here and to the bank—now!”

Erik drove there at twice the posted limit and handed over the check. He then called O’Brien.

With disappointment seemingly in his voice, O’Brien told him, “I’ll still be closely monitoring you,” and hung up.

Erik’s next phoned Morganthaler and told him the details of how he repaid the loan. Morganthaler demanded information about Sal that Erik couldn’t supply. “You can rest assured I’ll check him out.” Maybe he could find inconsistencies in this all-too-convenient way out? He called Daly and relayed the information Erik had supplied. “What’s this guy Rodriguez’s relationship with Preis?”

“His daughter’s dating him.”

“It all sounds a bit too simple.”

“I agree. I’ll check him out.” But the investigation into Sal Rodriguez turned up nothing other than some previous traffic violations, so both men drove to his home and grilled Sal in depth. The income tax returns, pay stubs and bank statements he supplied, however, showed his finances were in order, so unremarkable the cops felt like they already knew him. They were right back where they had begun; nowhere.

With the weighty repayment off his back, Erik became all business; money business. At his apartment he penned a note to Juni and in it he outlined what he believed happened, sealed and placed a stamp on it. After marking it personal, he dropped it in the mail box on the corner to be picked up the following day. He returned, took a cotton ball, thoroughly swabbed the inside of his mouth and placed it another baggie alongside the one containing his father’s toothbrush. The FedEx office was a few blocks away, so he drove there and sent both items at the airline employee reduced rate via overnight delivery to Genetrack Bio Laboratory, including a return FedEx package. He next called Shuttle Air’s crew scheduling department. “I think I’m coming down with a cold. Can you cover my trips for a few days?”

“We have plenty of reserves. Feel better soon.”

As his thoughts returned to what happened, hatred won out over every other emotion and he turned his total attention to the impending task.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

After awakening from a short nap Christina checked the mail, discovering the new medication hadn’t yet arrived. She went into the grimy bathroom, showered and washed her hair. After applying a liberal amount of conditioner, she blew it dry, noticing that the shine was returning. According to her doctor’s strict regimen she also took two Gigotor tablets. Hopefully, the Keppra would arrive later that day or tomorrow via UPS. Thoughts of putting her seizures behind her, forever, actually made her feel like a Catholic school girl on her first date. As a kind of celebration of a hopefully seizure free life, she dressed in a light pink top accentuated by tight-fitting jeans and drove to a nearby Burger King. While waiting in line she dug money out of her purse and patiently awaited her turn in the slowly moving procession of people that wound its way between two heavy chrome railings. She planned