“Are you at least sorry for your accusations?”

“More sorry than you’ll ever know,” Ben said, tearing the corners off Osterman’s Grinnell opinion. “Now will you please help me?”

“Of course I’ll help you.” Lisa pulled the Grinnell opinion out of Ben’s hands, put his hands flat on the desk, and covered them with her own. “Regardless of what you may think, I really do care about what happens to you. If you were booted out of here, I’d have double the amount of work.”

“That’s funny,” Ben said dryly. “You sure do crack me up.”

“You can hide behind all the sarcastic remarks you want, but I know you appreciate my help.”

“Of course I appreciate it. My life is falling apart, my career is approaching meltdown, and my friends are acting like the charter members of the Benedict Arnold Fan Club. At this point, I’d appreciate election tips from George McGovern. What the hell else am I supposed to do?”

“Well, I just hope you realize that you still have some real friends that care about you.”

“Thank you, Lisa Marie. I really do appreciate the help. I mean it.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “But don’t think for a second that I forgive you. You have to get raked over another twenty sets of coals before I forget about the emotional distress you’ve caused me.”

“That’s a deal. And you can pick out the coals personally.”

Taking a few steps backward, Lisa sat on the office sofa. “Now, are we going to catch this motherfucker or not?”

Smiling, Ben pulled a legal pad from the corner of his desk. “I think our only option is to make a list of people Rick might approach at Grinnell and Associates.”

“I can take care of that,” Lisa said. “I’m pretty sure the Clerk’s Office keeps a record of every party’s ownership interests. That should give us a likely list of possible sellers. If we keep an eye on those individuals, we’ll know when Rick makes his move.”

“We don’t even have to keep an eye on them,” Ben said, clearing his computer screen for a new search. “Lexis has its own public records database. All real estate transactions and deed transfers have to be reported to the county clerk’s office. If we have the names of the sellers, we should be able to track them directly from here.”

“Perfect,” Lisa said. “I’ll be back with the names.”

As Lisa left the office, Ben called out, “By the way, I do trust you!”

“I know,” she shouted back.

When the door closed, Ben pulled his chair toward his desk and dialed the number of the phone company. “Hi, I was wondering if you could help me out. By mistake, my wife threw out all of our phone bills. Since we need them for tax purposes, I was hoping we could get copies of them.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, sir,” the operator said. “I just need your name and phone number.”

“The phone is under my wife’s name: Lisa Schulman.” Ben told the operator Lisa’s phone number and added, “I was also wondering if you could send the bills directly to my accountant, since he needs them as soon as possible.”

“We’re not supposed to-”

“It’s my phone,” Ben said. “It’s just under my wife’s name. If it makes it easier for you, I’d be happy to talk to a supervisor.”

“It should be fine. Let me just make a note of that, and then I’ll need the address.”

After giving the operator Ober’s work address, Ben said, “Thanks for the help. I really appreciate it.”

Late that afternoon, Ben stared intently at his computer screen.

“Y’know, you’ll probably go blind if you keep staring like that,” Lisa said.

“I should be so lucky.”

“Stop worrying. You keyed in every name on the ownership papers. If someone sells, you’ll see it change.”

“We’ll never see it,” Ben said, turning away from his computer. “You saw those documents. Grinnell is owned primarily by four limited partnerships, which are owned by eight more limited partnerships, which are owned by sixteen S corporations…”

“We pulled out every name we could find. And if we couldn’t find them, what do you think the chances are that Rick could find them?”

Ben shot Lisa his you-must-be-joking look.

“Okay,” Lisa said, “so Rick could probably find anything. But that doesn’t mean we’re not on the right track.”

“It’s not that I don’t think we’re on the right track,” Ben said. “I just feel like this is a very passive plan. We’re just sitting here and waiting.”

“Well, that’s all we can do now. If you’re so anxious, why don’t you start looking through the Harvard and Michigan yearbooks?”

“What are you talking about?” Ben asked. “They haven’t arrived yet.”

“Yes, they have. I told you earlier that there were two boxes in reception for you.”

“You never said that,” Ben said, rising from his seat.

“I definitely did. When I got back from getting the ownership documents, I told you there were two boxes waiting for you. You were probably too caught up in your computer screen.”

Ben walked to the closet and pulled out his coat. “Rather than bring the yearbooks home to Nathan, I think I’m going to leave them here. I’ll go through them tomorrow.”

“Where are you going now?” Lisa asked, noticing that it wasn’t even five o’clock yet.

“I want to speak to Ober before Nathan gets home. Can you cover for me in case Hollis calls?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

When Ben arrived home, the hum of silence revealed that the house was empty. Taking off his coat and throwing it on the sofa, Ben checked the kitchen, peeked into the first-floor bathroom, and opened the door to the basement. “Is anybody here?” he called out. When he got upstairs, he peeked into Eric’s and Ober’s rooms, as well as his own. After looking in the second-floor bathroom and every hall closet, Ben opened the door to Nathan’s room. Without turning on the lights, he slid open Nathan’s closet and poked his head inside. Convinced that he was alone, Ben then approached Nathan’s desk, focusing on the small stack of papers arranged in a neat pile. Not making a sound, Ben flipped through the pile. Grocery list, things-to-do list, birthday list, movies-to-rent list. Nothing of consequence. After returning the papers to their original position, Ben held his breath and cautiously pulled open the center desk drawer. Picking up the organizer that kept all the pens, pencils, and erasers in place, Ben slowly and methodically searched for anything that might lead to Rick’s whereabouts. After closing the drawer, Ben picked up the address book on Nathan’s nightstand. Reading each entry, he struggled to account for every name in the book.

“What the hell are you doing with my address book?”

Startled, Ben dropped the book and looked up, surprised to see Ober laughing in the doorway. “Don’t do that!” Ben yelled, picking up the book and returning it to its place.

“You should’ve seen your face. You were-”

“Is anyone with you?” Ben asked, rushing out of Nathan’s room.

“No. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Listen, I’m going to tell you something, but you have to swear you’ll never say a word.”

“I swear,” Ober said, pulling off his tie.

“I’m not joking,” Ben warned. “Not a word to anyone. Not Nathan, not your parents…”

“I swear,” Ober repeated as they walked down the stairs toward the living room. “Just tell me.”

After explaining the entire story to his roommate, Ben said, “So tell me: What do you think?”

“I can’t believe what you’re saying.” Ober’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “You expect me to believe that Nathan is in on this whole thing?”

“What else am I supposed to believe?”

“No way,” Ober slumped into a chair at the kitchen table. “Now you’re crazy. I mean, if you said Eric, I’d understand. In fact, last week I saw him in your room going through your garbage.”