Windfall

Where could it be? I’ve looked everywhere in my house. Oh my God what if I lost it outside? If the wrong person gets a hold of that book I’m doomed. My next appointment is arriving in fifteen minutes. Thankfully, I have my client names in the calendar on my computer. But now who else has my client names?

Oh boy, it’s Rodney Green next. He has mommy issues and I am fed up with his whining. Breathe deeply and calm down. You can handle it. Remember not to make it so obvious when you look at your watch. He bawled like a baby the last time you did that.

When I moved to Los Angeles from New York a few years ago, I never thought I’d get so many referrals. Now the local papers have dubbed me “Shrink to the Minks.” Most of my clients are either high profile, filthy rich or both. So you see if my little black book, which contains personal notes about my patients’ afflictions, ended up getting into the wrong hands, it could be embarrassing. I know many therapists are instructed not to write down personal notes during sessions, but in my experience, I have found that this comforts my clients. It’s as though they expect it.

After Rodney left, I had four hours before my next appointment. I decided to search the house from top to bottom once again. No luck! It was time to figure out where I could have left the book. Luckily it was my day off when the book went missing. Retracing my steps for that day will be easy, and I now have three hours to do it.

I headed straight to the Starbucks on the corner. I remember I had it in my briefcase when I went to the Starbucks because I was reviewing my notes. I was also reviewing my bank statements. Ever since that “hot stock tip” of mine went cold, cash has been tight. I’ve only been able to take ‘stay-cation” days off to get a break but no trip away for a prolonged period.

I recognized the barista’s blue hair and face piercings. Brilliant. The same young woman who had taken my order the other day. When I said good morning and asked if she remembered me, she looked at me like I had two heads. However, she took a step back and asked what my name and order was from the other day. When I said Rose and a Café Latte Light she said she did remember and pointed to the table where I had sat. “YES”, that was it,” I said. “Did anyone happen to find a little black book?” She had another customer but pointed me to the Assistant Manager. He checked their lost and found but came back empty-handed.

Next stop was the neighborhood grocery store and after that, the nail salon. Nobody had turned it in at either place. I was also at the hair salon that day but I would see my hairdresser tomorrow so I can find out then.

I raced back to my home office feeling nervous and confused, Where else could it be, I thought to myself.

Rachel Brewton arrived right on time. She’s a corporate lawyer and used to orderly conduct. Today she looked disheveled and agitated.

“And how have you been, Rachel?”

“Not so good.”

“Please take you time and tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I’m being blackmailed.”

“Blackmailed? Does this concern one of your cases?”

“No, I don’t think so but the blackmailer has some sensitive information about my affair with Colin.” She told me about Colin during our last session because she felt guilty and ashamed. Colin was one of her largest clients who owned gold mines all over South Africa. They had commenced their affair while visiting a mine in Johannesburg.

Not only was it inappropriate for a lawyer to sleep with her client but they were both married. “I don’t know what to do. He told me to drop off $20,000 in cash in a paper bag at a specific dock at the pier the day after tomorrow.” She continued, “As a lawyer, I know how the minds of criminals work and he won’t stop at $20,000 but I can’t risk him going to the newspapers. He said he has connections."

"How do you think you should handle this?"

"When I asked him why I should believe him, he specifically said he had proof that I had been sleeping with one of my largest clients and he even knew when the affair began.”

“Who knows about the affair?"

“I’ve only told you, and Colin said he hasn’t told a soul.”

I wanted to tell her to go to the police but I suddenly got a sinking feeling in my gut. My little black book contained detailed notes about the affair with Colin. By the time the session ended, she had decided to pay the ransom once she had incontrovertible proof that the blackmailer had all the facts.

My first order of business after Rachel left was to relax with three fingers of scotch and some mind-numbing TV. Things will look brighter in the morning. No patients tomorrow so plenty of time to continue the sleuthing.

When I awoke, I remembered I was meeting my hairdresser Tom for lunch that day. I know it sounds like a cliché but he’s not just my hairdresser, he’s my friend. I always felt that we were kindred spirits. He listens to people complain about their problems all day too. He insisted on meeting at Coq Au Vin. We would normally not meet at such an expensive restaurant, but he said it was his treat.

I immediately noticed Tom was dressed to the nines. “New duds?” I asked. “Yes, he replied. “Do you like?” Just then the waiter arrived and Tom immediately ordered a bottle of Dom Perignon. “New clothes, fancy restaurant, French champagne, what are we celebrating?” I asked. “Did you win the lottery?”

“I did in a way.”

Before I could ask him about his windfall, I remembered about the black book. “When I was at your salon yesterday, did you find a little black book?” Tom opened his mouth but then paused. He looked decidedly uncomfortable. And then it dawned on me. He was the one blackmailing Rachel! “Don’t lie to me Tom. Are you using my notes to blackmail my patients? “

“Only one so far,” BUT – I’ve read your notes about the politicians and judge. Those secrets could fetch even more of a sum. I’ve got connections at the LA Times. You must have even more intel on these patients of yours. We could be a team!”

“WHAT?” I tried not to raise my voice but it was difficult. “You’re not dragging me into this, Tom.” I knew blackmail was a Federal Offence in California.

“Please,” Tom pleaded. “Just think about it.”

When the waiter arrived with the bill, Tom grabbed it and said, “I’ll pay."

“You certainly will, in more ways than one.”

I went home that night and googled blackmail consequences. I visited the website of Joe Bivoli, Criminal Lawyer. As a felony, the penalties imposed can be up to four years in prison and a fine of up to $10,000. I took down Joe’s phone number.

I tossed and turned all night and couldn’t get to sleep. What would the Feds think of my connection with my hairdresser? Would I become a suspect? If Tom gets caught, will he mention my little black book? Finally sleep found me. I dreamed I had been in a long, sexy love affair and had never been caught.

When I awoke very early that morning I took a long hot shower, had breakfast and got dressed.

I dialed his number.

He answered.

“Tom,” I said. “I’m in.”