Chapter 6: His Voice on the Phone
I almost didn't answer.
The number was different again — a third one.
But I recognized the area code by now.
I stood in the hallway outside Nora's room with the phone in my hand and let it ring twice.
Then I answered.
"This has gone far enough," he said.
No introduction.
No name.
Just that.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Who is this?"
A pause.
He didn't like that.
"You know who this is."
"I'd like you to say your name," I said.
"For my own records."
Another pause.
Longer.
"Gerald Patton."
"Thank you." I walked to the kitchen.
Dan was at the counter.
I put the phone on speaker and set it on the table between us.
"Go ahead."
"I've been in public service for fifteen years," he said.
"One moment — one misunderstanding — does not define that."
"What was the misunderstanding?" I said.
"I spoke without thinking.
I've already acknowledged that."
"To who?"
Silence.
"You haven't acknowledged it to me," I said.
"You called my friend's office.
You found my full name and said it like a warning.
You texted me from two different numbers telling me to think about my family.
When did the acknowledgment happen?"
"I'm acknowledging it now."
"That's not an apology."
"I'm calling to ask you to take the post down."
Dan's jaw tightened.
He didn't speak.
"I'm not going to do that," I said.
"You're going to damage a fifteen-year record over eleven minutes in a grocery store."
"You damaged it," I said.
"I was buying cereal."
"You don't understand the position you're putting me in."
"Mr.
Patton." I kept my voice level.
"You stood over me in a public aisle and told me to cover myself.
I was six weeks out of the hospital.
I said sorry to you three times.
I didn't put you in any position.
You put yourself there."
He was quiet for a moment.
When he spoke again, his voice had changed.
Lower.
More careful.
"I know people," he said.
"In this city.
On the council.
In the planning office.
Your husband works in construction, doesn't he?"
Dan went very still.
"Permits move slowly sometimes," Patton said.
"Projects get held up.
It's nobody's fault.
It's just how these things go."
The kitchen was completely silent.
"Are you threatening my husband's work?" I said.
"I'm not threatening anything.
I'm describing how things work."
"I'm going to need you to say that again," I said.
"Clearly."
"I think you understood me."
"I did," I said.
"And so did the recording."
Another silence.
Longer than the others.
"There's no recording," he said.
But his voice had shifted.
"My phone has been on speaker since you said your name," I said.
"Dan has been in the room.
We've both heard everything."
He said nothing.
"Mr.
Patton," I said.
"I'd like you to think about your next sentence very carefully."
The line went quiet for so long I thought he'd hung up.
Then he said: "This isn't over."
And he ended the call.
Dan looked at me across the table.
"Did you actually record it?" he said.
I turned the phone over.
The screen showed the call had ended.
I opened the voice memo app.
The red bar was still running.
I stopped it.
"Yes," I said.
Dan let out a breath.
He sat down.
"He just threatened my permits," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"He described how things work," I said.
Dan looked at the phone.
Then at me.
"We need to call someone," he said.
"Not Maria.
Someone with a law degree."
I was already scrolling through my contacts.
My sister's college roommate had become a civil attorney.
We hadn't spoken in two years.
May you like
I found her name and looked at it for a moment.
Then I pressed call.
