Trust Me<\/a><\/em> by Richard Z. Santos. Copyright \u00a9 2019 by Richard Z. Santos. Excerpted with permission from Arte P\u00fablico Press. <\/span><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Chapter 10<\/span><\/strong><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Charles was hungover, and the road to his new house snaked up the side of a mountain, so his first act in the house might be puking in the toilet. If he could wait that long.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Salazar had given him the house keys last night in the office, but he had crashed at Lou’s.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
When he went back to the trailer to grab his suitcases, Lou was drinking beer and watching TV. Charles sat down to have a quick one. Then one turned to two, turned to three, turned to Lou and Charles bonding over how much Diana Salazar scared them. The beer was thin and yellow, and the cop show they watched was boring. Perfect. All of Charles\u2019s DC friends, those who still spoke to him, only talked about politics. He needed a dumb night with a crate of piss beer.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Charles\u2019s stomach churned. He was unshowered and almost late for work. This road was torture. He was up the side of a mountain just outside of downtown Santa Fe. Juniper and mesquite trees hung low over the street and buckled the asphalt. The houses themselves were set behind adobe courtyards, and Charles had no way to tell if this neighborhood was run down and abandoned or ancient and luxurious.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
When his phone rang, he knew it was his wife Addie without even looking at the screen. Charles answered, put the phone on speaker and placed it on the console next to him.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cHey,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m driving. What\u2019s up?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cCalling to see how it went yesterday,\u201d Addie said. \u201cYou got so excited, then I never heard anything.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cYou haven\u2019t seen the headlines? Things are blowing up.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cYeah? I didn\u2019t notice anything, but I\u2019m glad something\u2019s up. You were worried the gig was all over.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cI think this is going to work out for me,\u201d he said. \u201cThere\u2019s a ton going on. I don\u2019t even know where to start.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m glad you\u2019re happy. You driving to work?\u201d <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cDropping my stuff at the new house first.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cI got my tickets,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019ll be there next Friday.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Her voice was neutral, waiting to respond to Charles\u2019s emotion. His silence lasted maybe half a second, but that was long enough.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, yeah that\u2019s good.\u201d He said it loud, as if he could make up for his hesitation. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cThings\u2019ll be less crazy by then. I can show you around.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, okay. Great, I guess.\u201d <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Despite her frustration, she was still too generous. Charles knew Addie would work for their relationship, keep sacrificing past all reason. Cold threads of guilt wrapped around his bones.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cI really,\u201d Charles paused, \u201cI know this is hard, but this job will be worth it. There are real opportunities here.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
As he drove up the mountain, the houses became more spaced out and the land between them more wild and dense with trees and brush. He found the correct street and pulled into a short, gravel cul-de-sac on which there were only two houses.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s another thing,\u201d Addie said. \u201cIt\u2019s not good.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Low walls jutted out of the narrow, adobe house, like two arms reaching forward in protection. A thick wooden door looked like it opened onto a courtyard. The initial impression it gave was of cloistered luxury. A monastery in Beverly Hills. Charles hopped out of the car and almost left the phone behind.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cBabe, I\u2019ve never seen a house like this. It\u2019s out of a magazine.\u201d <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cCan\u2019t wait to see it, but I have to tell you about your friend Jim Hawley.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
The courtyard door had been repurposed from an old church. Through a cross-hatched grill, he could see a spread of cacti and coarse desert grass. In the courtyard, the air smelled dark and fertile with overgrown plant life.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
The front door was frosted, corrugated glass. Inside, the thick plaster walls were smooth as icing. The ceiling was lined with walnut-brown vigas<\/em> and the floor was slate, cool to the touch. Charles wanted to caress the smooth surfaces and take it all in.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m listening, I swear,\u201d he said. \u201cBut this place is unreal.\u201d <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cJim was arrested in Syria,\u201d said Addie.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Charles noticed a pair of high heel shoes by the front door. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cHello?\u201d Addie asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m here, but what do you mean? Like, Syria Syria?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
The shoes were out of place, left behind, but they also looked at home, arranged as if the owner knew exactly where to put them.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cSome NGO work,\u201d Addie said. \u201cI\u2019m not sure. Democracy-building stuff, but the Syrians came in, busted it up, accused everyone of spying.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Charles looked down the hall towards the bedrooms. The house was empty. It had to be.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t seem concerned,\u201d she said.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cWell, Jim Hawley had a temper. Every campaign he punched a hole in the drywall. Every <\/span><\/span>campaign. He did it to make a point, but it became a joke after the fourth or fifth time he did it. Probably decked a Syrian senator. Do they have senators?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cCharlie, he\u2019s being accused of spying. Everyone else was released, but they\u2019re going to make an example of him. State has threatened to pull the ambassador.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
One of the bedroom doors was cracked open a bit, and Charles pushed it open all the way.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
He felt the ground cut out from under his feet. He knew he was standing, knew he was awake, alive, but this had to be a mistake or a dream.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Only a dream, a bad dream, would explain why he was looking at his ex-wife.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Olivia pulled the blankets up around her neck. He had awakened her, and she was blinking at him like she was the one seeing a ghost. A bottle of champagne and two glasses, one empty, sat on the nightstand.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Olivia smiled. \u201cWell, you\u2019re a little late, dear.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Charles heard Addie\u2019s voice from far away. At some point, he had lowered the phone to his side. He brought the phone back up to his ear. \u201cSorry, sorry, you cut out on the last part.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cThis all just happened,\u201d she said. \u201cBut I figured you\u2019d want to know. I thought he was your friend.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Charles and Olivia had not seen each other for more than ten years. He took a tiny step towards the bed, feeling like a lion tamer whose act had started to go sideways. They had met in Chicago when they were both in their twenties. He was working a campaign, and she bartended at the bar near the office. She hated politics, and he was kind of a stiff. For a few months, it was perfect. Then, it stopped being perfect. She cheated. He cheated shortly afterward. They split, and he almost never thought of her.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Finally, he managed a few words to Addie. \u201cHawley was a jerk. I wouldn\u2019t worry about it. He was probably drunk and rubbed someone the wrong way. He\u2019ll sleep it off.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Olivia laughed, sat up and smoothed her hair back. She was wearing a black nightgown. \u201cIs that your wife?\u201d she stage-whispered.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Charles covered the phone. \u201cLook, I\u2019m really losing you up here. Can I call you<\/span><\/span><\/p>\nlater?\u201d <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Addie sighed. \u201cYou seem annoyed that I took the time to tell you.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no, no. I\u2019m just running late and need time to process this.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Olivia reached for the champagne and poured herself a splash. She offered the bottle to Charles, who smiled and shook his head. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cCall me later?\u201d Addie asked. \u201cI want to hear things.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cDefinitely. For sure.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Charles hung up feeling guilty.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cWelcome home, husband.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
He looked down at his phone. \u201cI just got bad news about a friend. A guy I worked with a while back. But I can\u2019t even think about it.\u201d He looked around the bedroom, wondering who else would pop out. \u201cWhat\u2019s happening right now?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m in bed. You\u2019re standing over there. We\u2019re in a million-dollar house on a mountain.\u201d \u201cI knew you\u2019d say something clever like that. How are you<\/em> here?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m from here. What are you <\/em>doing here?\u201d \u201cThis isn\u2019t a coincidence.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cCan\u2019t get anything past you.\u201d She rolled her eyes. \u201cI knew you were staying here and I wanted to see you. Then I fell asleep. You\u2019re the one who walked into my bedroom.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
He shook his head. \u201cNo, no this house belongs to my, to, to\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Charles turned around and walked into the living room. He sat down on one of the couches. His best hope, really his only chance at this point, was if she never walked out of that bedroom. If no one was there. If she was a ghost or, if he was lucky, a tumor chewing through his brain.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Then, he heard her bare feet coming down the stone hallway.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Olivia had thrown on a pair of jeans and a white button-up shirt. It was so much preppier than anything Olivia wore back in Chicago. Now that she was out of bed, Charles got a good look at her. She used to have more of an edge. He could see traces of it in her walk. Ten years had turned her into a woman with money.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I thought you\u2019d be a little happy to see me. A smidge?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been working with these people for almost a week, interviewing for two weeks before that. Your name did not come up.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re mad. I get it. You\u2019re mad because we\u2019re both losers.\u201d She made an L out of her thumb and forefinger and placed it on her forehead. \u201cRemember when people did this?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not a loser.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
She laughed and shook her head.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cThat laugh,\u201d he said. \u201cThat little snort you do. It used to sound nice. Do you work for Branch and Salazar? Those are the only people in the state who know me, and don\u2019t give me a sarcastic answer.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t we all work for him?\u201d She rolled her eyes. \u201cFine, sorry I didn\u2019t tell you, I\u2019m married to your boss.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cCody Branch is not my boss.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cOh, Charlie, you\u2019ve been out here long enough to know better than that.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
He curled up on the couch. The room was now on its side and felt quiet and cool. The leather couch smelled like money, and the entire house hummed as if vast machines toiled in the basement. This whole job, airport or casino or whatever, really had been too good to be true. Of course, the signs had been there. Addie\u2019s skepticism. How had they found him in the first place? He had shrugged it all off.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\u201cThis is stalking,\u201d he said. \u201cManipulation. You got me this job but didn\u2019t tell me.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
She laughed. \u201cStalking? I mentioned your name to Cody. That\u2019s all. You got yourself hired.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
Charles thought of his mother. This was the kind of stunt she used to pull all the time.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
When she donated stacks of cash to party committees or to PACs in states where Charles had taken jobs, she referred to it as \u201cvoting with her pocketbook.\u201d Soon, bald men wearing gold rings were gripping his shoulder and introducing him as Lena O\u2019Connell\u2019s son.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n