Company Man Read Online Free Page A

a single parent.”
    A pause. “Nice house.”
    â€œThank you.” Nick could sense the resentment, the envy rising off the man like swamp gas. “What happened?”
    â€œHouse is okay, sir. It’s brand-new, looks like. Not even finished yet, huh?”
    â€œWe’re just having some work done,” Nick said impatiently.
    â€œI see. The workers, they’re here every day?”
    â€œI wish. Not yesterday or today.”
    â€œYour alarm company lists a work number for you at the Stratton Corporation,” Officer Manzi said. He was looking down at an aluminum clipboard, his black eyes small and deeply inset like raisins in a butterscotch pudding. “You work there.”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œWhat do you do at Stratton?” There was a beat before the policeman looked up and let his eyes meet Nick’s: the guy knew damned well what he did there.
    â€œI’m the CEO.”
    Manzi nodded as if everything now made sense. “I see. You’ve had a number of break-ins over the last several months, is that correct, Mr. Conover?”
    â€œFive or six times now.”
    â€œWhat kind of security system you have here, sir?”
    â€œBurglar alarm on the doors and some of the windows and French doors. Basic system. Nothing too elaborate.”
    â€œHome like this, that’s not much of a system. No cameras, right?”
    â€œWell, we live in this, you know, gated community.”
    â€œYes, sir, I can see that. Lot of good it does, keeping out the wing nuts.”
    â€œPoint taken.” Nick almost smiled.
    â€œSounds like the burglar alarm isn’t on very often, sir, that right?”
    â€œOfficer, why so many cars here today for a routine—”
    â€œMind if I ask the questions?” Officer Manzi said. The guy seemed to be enjoying his authority, pushing around the boss man from Stratton. Let him, Nick thought. Let him have his fun. But—
    Nick heard a car approaching, turned and saw the blue Chrysler Town & Country, Marta behind the wheel. He felt that little chemical surge of pleasure he always got when he saw his daughter, the way he used to feel with Lucas too, until that got complicated. The minivan pulled up alongsideNick and the engine was switched off. A car door opened and slammed, and Julia shouted, “What are you doing home, Daddy?”
    She ran toward him, wearing a light-blue hooded Stratton sweatshirt and jeans, black sneakers. She wore some slight variant of the outfit every day, a sweatshirt or an athletic jersey. When Nick went to the same elementary school, more than thirty years before, you weren’t allowed to wear jeans, and sweatshirts weren’t considered appropriate school attire. But he didn’t have time in the mornings to argue with her, and he was inclined to go easy on his little girl, given what she had to be going through since the death of her mother.
    She hugged him tight around his abdomen. He no longer hoisted her up, since at almost five feet and ninety-something pounds, it wasn’t so easy. In the last year she’d gotten tall and leggy, almost gangly, though there was still a pocket of baby fat at her tummy. She was starting to develop physically, little breast buds emerging, which Nick couldn’t deal with. It was a constant reminder of his inadequacy as a parent: who the hell was going to talk to her, get her through adolescence?
    The hug went on for several seconds until Nick released her, another thing that had changed since Laura was gone. His daughter’s hugs: she didn’t want to let him go.
    Now she looked up at him, her meltingly beautiful brown eyes lively. “How come there’s all these police?”
    â€œThey want to talk to me, baby doll. No big deal. Where’s your backpack?”
    â€œIn the car. Did that crazy guy get in the house again and write bad stuff?”
    Nick nodded, stroked her glossy brown hair. “What are you doing home now?