When the blue turns to red, I cup the soft glove leather seat with my hand and wonder how long it takes rich people to get used to such opulence.

“Care for a bourbon?” Jefferson says.

“I’m good.”

As we sit in silence, the light show changes from red to blue to green to yellow and back to the original purple. It’s an impressive array, one I never knew existed, but one I’d grow tired of if I sat here long enough, much like the Muzak tape at the bank. Of course, while sitting in the limo, you don’t have to look at the lights. You can look out the window as I’m doing now, watching us pass through the chain link gates of Glenwood Aviation. Now we’re on the tarmac, slowly rolling toward a bright white Gulfstream jet, with burgundy striping.

Glenwood Aviation? Gulfstream jet?

“Where are you taking me?”

“Think about it.”

I do, but nothing comes to mind.

“Did Mrs. Blankenship refer you to me?”

“Who?”

“Whitney Blankenship? The heiress? Richest family in Kentucky?”

He shrugs. “Oh, that Whitney Blankenship.”

Seeing I’m alarmed, he adds, “Sorry, never had the pleasure.”

“Then what the hell is going on here?”

The limo stops. The driver gets out and stands beside Jefferson’s door. Jefferson turns to me and we lock eyes. “I’m going to level with you,” he says. “We’re not playing golf today.”

“We’re not?”

He shakes his head

I look out the window and notice the jet’s cabin door is open and the stairs have been lowered. A uniformed man who I assume is the co-pilot, stands quietly at the base of the stairs waiting.

Waiting for what?

I turn back to Jefferson.

“You think I’m gonna just hop on a jet with no idea where I’m going? I don’t even know you!”

Jefferson sighs, but says nothing.

“Look, I appreciate what you’ve done for me, saving my job and all. But I can’t go with you. My wife and I have plans tonight.”

He dismisses my words with a wave of his hand. “You’ll be back in plenty of time for the concert. In fact, you and Lissie will be riding to it in this very limo.”

I do a double take. He knows about the concert? He knows my wife’s name? I don’t know what to say. I look at his steel-grey eyes and his diamond cuffs and think Jefferson may not be the scariest guy in the world, but he’s certainly making me uncomfortable.

“Hannibal.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m taking you to Hannibal, Missouri.”

“Hannibal.”

“That’s right. It’s forty minutes there, forty back, and we’ll be there two, two-and-a-half hours, max. We’ll get you to Louis Challa’s by five to retrieve your car, and you’ll be home by five-thirty. Perkins will be in your driveway at six. You’ve got dinner reservations at Guiseppi’s at six-fifteen, and from there, it’s on to the concert.”

“You must be joking! I can’t afford all that!”

“The limo’s on me. And by tonight, the cost of Guiseppi’s will be no more than an afterthought for you.”

I roll my eyes. “Really? And why’s that?”

“Because we’re going to Hannibal!”

“So you say.”

“Ready?”

“What the hell is in Hannibal?”

Jefferson taps the window with his knuckles, and Perkins opens his door. Before exiting the limo, Jefferson leans over to me and whispers, “Your million dollars!”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

We’re wheels up in the jet, gaining altitude. The electronic map on the wall panel shows our speed, altitude, and estimated arrival time to Hannibal. I’ve just been told we’re going there to pick up my million dollars.

From the wish list I filled out Sunday night.

“How is this possible?”

“You filled out the form,” he says.

I’m exasperated, and the look on my face shows it. “You’re trying to tell me that everyone who fills out a form gets their wishes?”

“No. Percentage-wise, it’s only a handful.”

“Then, why me?”

“The wishes have to be grantable.”

“But my list isn’t possible.”

“Why’s that?” he says.

“The first item on my list was to fuck Jinny Kidwell.”

Thomas Jefferson clenches his jaw.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

We land at Hannibal Regional Airport to find another stretch limo waiting for us. It’s cold in Hannibal, and remnants of a recent snow line the runway.