Free Accidents Waiting to Happen by Simon Wood Page B

man holding Abby’s hand called.   He was in his early fifties, small, no more than five-five.   He was slight and as thin as his silver hair that covered his balding scalp.
    “Good to see you, Mark,” Josh called back.
    “I thought I'd show my face.”   Abby let go of his hand and bounded off.
    “Bob, you know Mark Keegan,” Josh said and Bob nodded in agreement.   “And this is a colleague of Bob’s, James Mitchell.”  
    The men shook hands.
    “I brought you a couple of bottles of wine.   I thought I should, seeing as you owe me money.   We still on for tomorrow?” Mark asked, giving the bottles to Josh.
    “Yeah and I’ll bring a check with me.”   Josh put the bottles on the table with the rest of the alcohol.
    “How is that plane of yours?” Bob asked.
    “We just had it serviced, so it’s as good as new.   That’s what the money’s for,” Mark said.
    “So you’ve got a plane?” James said, breaking into the conversation.
    “Yeah, a little Cessna C152 we bought four years ago.   It needed some work, but we got it at a good price,” Mark explained.
    “Mark and I learned to fly at the same time so we went partners on a plane,” Josh added.
    “Yeah, you can’t miss it either.   Fancy paint job with their names on the doors like they’re a pair of top gun aces,” Bob joked.
    “We had a bit of luck,” Josh said.   “We fly out of the Davis airstrip and a kid from the college there overheard us talking about repainting the plane.   He offered to paint a design on it for a school project and we said yeah.   All we had to pay for was the materials.”
    “That kid did a great job, it really stands out,” Mark said.
    “I’ve flown a couple of times, but I don’t have a license,” James said.
    “Come out with us some time,” Mark said.
    “No, I’m only here until Monday,” James explained.
    “Oh, I thought you worked with Bob,” Mark said.
    “No, I’m an agent with Pinnacle Investments visiting some of the brokers in California.”
    “You work for Pinnacle Investments?” Josh asked.   He wasn’t about to let one of their employees get away.   “I’ve got a big bone to pick with you.”
    “Well, if you people have business, I think I’ll give my best to Kate.   I’ll see you about ten tomorrow,” Mark said, excusing himself.
    Josh nodded to him.   “I’ll catch you later.”
    “What’s up, pal?” Bob asked.  
    “Thursday, Pinnacle Investments sent Kate a funeral wreath to the house with my name on it,” Josh said angrily.
    “Jesus, how did that happen?” Bob asked.
    “That’s what I wanted you to tell me.”  
    “I haven’t spoken to them,” Bob said in his defense.   “Christ, I’m sorry, man.   That’s the last thing you needed.”
    “I don’t know how it could have happened,” James said.   “Please let me apologize on behalf of the firm.   Let me make a phone call now.   There won’t be anyone there, but I can leave a voicemail so they get it first thing Monday.   Can I go into the house to make the call?”
    “Yeah, no problem,” Josh said sharply.
    James Mitchell went into the house.   Josh and Bob were together alone, the first time since the sports bar.   They looked gravely at each other, their minds full of unspoken thoughts.
    “How did it go with Bell?” Bob whispered.
    “I paid her but she’s not going to stop.”   Josh sighed and his anger fizzled out.
    “What does she want?”
    “As far as I can see, just to screw me over.”
    “You know this’ll never end unless you do something.”
    “Of course I know that.”
    “Then what are you going to do?”
    “I don’t know.”  
    “I think it’s time to tell the truth.   It’s the only way to stop this.”
    “Oh, shit,” Josh muttered.
    His response wasn’t to Bob’s comment but as a reaction to whom he saw over Bob’s shoulder.   Belinda Wong walked towards him, hand-in-hand with Abby.   The color drained from Josh’s face.
    “She’s