The Decision

The Meeting:

“Thank you for eating at Dellah’s Diner! Come back and see us.” My customer stood up, shuffled through his wallet for a $50 tip, and left with his head down.

“Really, Spencer? You graduated this morning, and you’re here working?” Erin was my coworker yet her father’s name was all over Carroll College’s campus, and her mother owned the diner we currently worked in plus five more.

“You mean my student loan timer just ran out. Thank you for the reminder.” She thought I’d had it nice for having a photogenic memory, but my parents taught me how to tailor my life towards the “gift”. Waitressing helped me exercise the muscle by remembering orders and faces. Law school was on their list, but I enjoyed writing and telling stories. Being an English major was the only way I felt like I wasn’t cheating by memorizing information for tests.

This was my last table of the shift, and my customer had left his little black book. I shuffled through the book’s pages quickly to see if it was of any importance.

A name and number on the front page - Liam, 406.202.6561

So many names with dates and boxes beside them - some checked, some unchecked. It seemed like he was somebody of importance. He was meeting Erin’s dad in two days. After a $50 tip, he deserved it being returned.

Day One:

I waited by the campus entrance. I was meeting Liam to return the book.

“Spencer?” His voice caused me to look up midtext.

“Hi, Liam! Thanks for meeting me here.”

“No, thank you! You literally saved my entire career!”

“Awe, you’re too sweet. My planner is my life, so I can relate.”

“No - seriously. My life’s work, past and future, is in this book. Did you look past the first page?”

“Yes, sorry. I was trying to find your contact info and looked at a few pages. Saw some big names in there. You must have an important job?" I found myself going into journalism mode. I was looking for a job in my field, but no good stories had presented themselves.

“Journalist graduate?” He brushed past the obvious question. Surprised, I shook my head yes.

“I’m sure it’s life changing for the people I’m meeting. Their families are becoming wealthier,” he continued. “Do you have Google Wallet? I would like to reward you for the kind gesture.”

"Yes. I do. There’s no reason to pay me for anything. You tipped me $50 yesterday. You’ve already paid me.”

“It is well-deserved. People should be rewarded for their acts of kindness. Please?” I pulled out my phone, opened the app, and showed him my name. Normally, I hear about things like this happening at a Starbucks drive thru where the car in front pays for the car behind them. I figured it wouldn’t hurt.

“Done. Check your account.”

$20,000 was sent to it! This was enough cash to take a gap year. I was stressed about working more hours at the diner to pay bills and my growing student debt, but all had been solved by simply returning a book. I struggled to comprehend what was happening.

“Liam, this is too much.”

“My business will continue to thrive thanks to you.” He walked away leaving me astonished.

Day Two:

My alarm blasted. I woke up hungover due to finally being able to celebrate my graduation with friends the night before. With bills taken care of, I called into the diner and requested someone else take my shift. “Thank you, Liam”, I thought and smiled as my head pounded. I looked at the time on my phone: 9:00am. And a bank notification.

7:30am : “$50,000,000 has been deposited into account ending *9567”

How was this possible? I opened the app to find that my balance was truly $50,000,125.32. When I called the bank, they explained that the money was wired that morning. This could only be the work of Liam. All this for a book? I called Liam’s phone. The number went straight to voicemail. Today was his meeting with Erin’s dad. He must still be there. I turned on the tv for background noise when the news anchor announced breaking news:

“Aaron Baillie, Owner of Baillie and James Company, was shot to death in his office at 7:15am. Police are still looking for the suspect who is said to have walked into Mr. Baillie’s office and shot him point blank while leaving two injured. He leaves behind his wife Dellah and their daughter, Erin Baillie.”

Chills ran down my spine. I couldn’t believe what I had heard as tears began to flow down my eyes. I thought of the pain Erin must be feeling. She and her dad were close. And Liam? I wondered if he was one of the people injured. I tried calling him again - straight to voicemail. I left him a quick message:

“It’s Spencer. I wanted to check on you. I know you had a meeting today with Mr. Baillie. Also, my account? Call me back!”

I called Erin - straight to voicemail:

“I am so sorry about your dad, Erin. I’m free today. Let me know where you are.”

One Year Later:

Back in Helena for Erin’s graduation, she had done wonders with my old apartment. I gave it to her after receiving a job in Seattle for an online newspaper. Erin sat on the couch next to me. I couldn’t believe how much she had changed in the year since I saw her.

“You look good.” I smiled at her. She thanked me. We began to catch up on everything that had taken place within the last year. I grew to respect my friendship with her. We could go months without talking, yet hang out like no time had been lost. Erin began telling me how she was set to take over her father’s company and how he would’ve loved her working there. A few tears ran down her face.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Erin. Were they ever able to catch the person?”

“No. His secretary had stated he had a meeting on his books with someone but the meeting had been removed from his calendar when police checked. The guy wasn’t forced to sign in due to it being so early. The two people injured were his secretary and a janitor.” I thought about Liam. I took a mental note to research him once I got back to Seattle, and continued to enjoy Erin’s company for the rest of the weekend.

The Following Monday:

I sat my bags down and turned on the tv to catch up with the news. I always assumed Liam was amongst the injured, but the money he sent me doesn’t sound like a secretary or janitor would have.

“Trever Simon was shot point blank while showing a home to a customer,” the news announced.

My trail of thought had been cut. I remembered reading his name in the book. My body went cold. I checked the calendar day on my desk - it was the same day they were to meet. I opened my laptop to begin researching Liam, when there was a knock at the door.

“FBI. Open up.”

There’s no way this could be happening to me right now! Have they tied him back to me? Did they know what I just pieced together? I thought to tell them about Liam when it occurred to me. Could the money wired to my account be the money paid to kill Mr. Baillie? Would they assume I was an accessory? Or worse, the killer! My stomach started to flip, and I was going to be sick.

“How can I help you?”

“Are you Spencer Moody?”

“Yes.”

“We see you received large sums of money a year ago from an offshore account. Can you give us more information as to why you received this, and who from?”

My palms began to sweat. “Yes. I returned a book to a customer at a diner I waitressed at, and he gave me the money. Something along the lines of “I saved his career, so he wanted to thank me.”

“And he felt $50,020,000 was a “simple” thank you for a book?”

“I felt like it was too much as well, but he was able to get access to my account to give it to me.”

“Get access to your account? You didn’t find that strange?”

“I did, but he saw my Google Wallet. I assumed he hacked me, but I thought no big deal if it works in your favor, right?” I started to sweat. I was never great at lying, so I tried turning my nervousness into annoyance. “I know I don’t owe any taxes. Outside of paying for my well-being and donating to charity, I haven’t made enough interest to owe you guys yet, correct?”

The officers looked at one another. “Well, seems like you lucked up on doing the right deed for a stranger. Hopefully, you will continue to pay it forward like he did.” The agents thanked me for answering their questions and left.

I understood how he was able to get access to my account. The offshore account was closed the same day the money was sent. I tried researching the number I called, but it seemed to be a burner phone that hadn’t worked since the day Mr. Baillie was killed. After two hours of research, I came up empty handed. I thought back to when I skimmed the notebook. The next name was “Pratt Newman - 7/14/22”. I found his LinkedIn information. If I couldn’t tell the police, I could at least warn the next person. A loud knock at the door startled me out of writing a message to Liam’s next victim. I checked the doorbell cam - no one there. I walked back to the desk and sat down to finish the message. A note had been left on the keyboard.

“Some people are rewarded for their kindness.”

How did he know where I lived? Has he been watching me this year? I searched around my house for any open or unlocked windows and doors. I couldn’t understand how he had gotten into my house. Petrified, I exited out of the message. Liam made it clear - I could be next at any time if I continued to interfere.

Five Years Later:

I kissed and hugged the twins as their father buckled them into the car seat. They were headed to visit his mom. With two big deadlines coming up and a house that needed to be cleaned, it felt good to get some alone time for the weekend. I finished my book deadline and dived back into researching Liam and his victims with the extra time. He had become an obsession of mine. I interviewed every witness and officer on the case to get any clues as to who he was. Overall - 10 people worldwide had been murdered, but every time I would look into warning the next victim, Liam would let me know he was watching by interjecting himself into my life. At one point, he was the twins’ class substitute teacher. He had somehow intertwined himself into my kids lives turning me into a paranoid recluse. Charlie was the only person who knew where I lived as of today. We would meet in random places in town, but I had come to a decision to begin living life normally once I found Liam.

The Decision:

I woke up from my nap to hands wrapped around my neck and squeezing the life out of me. I grabbed the gun from under my pillow, shot, and began gasping for air. After pushing Liam off of me, I dragged him to the grave I had waiting for him in my backyard. My second deadline had been met, and I was set to start cleaning.