It had been a grueling day in surgery: a total hip replacement that lasted six hours and an ankle pinning that was supposed to be completed in thirty minutes, but took three times that due to complications with the Achilles tendon. Madison showered, changed into his street clothes, then checked his voicemail before leaving the hospital. A message from John Stevens caught his attention. On the slight possibility that Stevens was still there poring over a budget or reading a report, he took the elevator up to the third floor.
Madison was about to knock on the door when it opened. Stevens stood there staring at Madison, his sports jacket draped over his left forearm.
“On your way out?” Madison asked.
“Yeah, you?”
“Just got your message, thought I’d catch you.”
“You in the garage?”
Madison nodded.
“Good, so am I. Why don’t we walk and talk?”
As they headed down the corridor, Madison said, “Your message mentioned something about Brittany.”
“You wanted me to keep my ears open,” he said. “Word is that you misappropriated some funds. Bought a boat or something, and that’s why the Consortium is having financial trouble. You don’t own a boat, do you, Phil?”
Madison shook his head. “Embezzlement?”
“That’s what she’s saying.”
“This rumor started with Brittany, I take it.”
Stevens looked at him, as if to say, Did you really need to ask?
Madison smiled out of one corner of his mouth and shook his head.
“Is that funny?”
“What’s funny, John, is that she really believes this bullshit.”
Stevens looked at him as if he didn’t understand. “Yesterday she was spreading BS that she and I were having an affair.”
“Should I ask-”
“No, you shouldn’t. We’re not having an affair, John. This woman has a very active imagination.”
“Lost touch with reality, if you ask me. Delusional.”
Madison pushed through the door into the stairwell. “Yeah, well, just between the two of us, Friday’s her last day. This nightmare will be out of my life for good.”
“You really think it’s that easy?”
“What do you mean?” Madison asked, his smile fading.
“Someone like this doesn’t merely just stop spreading rumors because she’s fired. Mark my words. It’s gonna get worse once she loses her job. Then it gets vindictive. Personal. And there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”
They descended the last flight of stairs and stepped into the parking garage.
“Come on. What makes you think-”
“I lived through it. Ten years ago. We had a staff person with Concerned Environmentalists who was pissed off at being fired. Different circumstances, but basically what happened was that she started spreading rumors all over the community. Nasty stuff, mostly aimed at the president at the time. I was just a VP, so I didn’t catch much of it. But it was pretty ugly at times. And there was nothing he could do about it.”
“What happened?”
“Eventually, his term as president was up, and someone else stepped in. That slowed the assault. But every now and then he hears some weird rumor. He finally stopped asking where it originated.”
Madison grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. Stevens moved into the garage.
“I’m going to think positively,” Madison said. “This’ll be the last I hear from Brittany Harding.”
“Borrowing a page from Mike Murphy’s manual?”
“No, it’s the way it’s going to be.”
“Mark my words, Phil. This isn’t over. It won’t ever be over.”
Madison stood in front of his Mercedes in the brightly lit parking garage. Stevens lifted a tremulous hand, patted him on the back, and then walked off toward his car.
It won’t ever be over. Madison kept replaying it in his head. Stevens was wrong. He had to be. If there was one thing Madison was sure of, it was that he could not spend an indefinite amount of time dealing with all sorts of rumors and false accusations. He knew what the result would be: an ulcer…a nervous breakdown, and a big fat divorce.