Forget to Remember

abrasive, and from what Carol could comprehend of it, obscene in a way that was abusive toward women.

    CHAPTER 17
    The white house was the size of a sports arena, situated on a substantial plot of ground on the top of a hill. It had an iron-barred fence around it with a gated driveway. Beard spoke into an intercom, and the twin gates swung open. They drove up a curving road to the front door and were admitted by a smiling man wearing a suit.
    “Welcome, Mr. Beard. Let me check your purse.”
    The bag Beard was carrying did look like a purse. Was the man looking for a gun?
    The man unzipped it; Carol caught a glimpse of bills. He nodded. “I see you left your cell phone in the car. Good.”
    He returned the purse to Beard and faced Carol. “Miss, may I have a quick look at your purse?”
    Surprised, Carol handed it to him. He opened it and pulled out her cell phone. “Mr. Ault likes to have the full attention of his guests. I’ll keep this for you and return it when you leave.”
    He gave the purse back to her and led them into a dining room that could be used as a banquet hall. Three places were set at one end of a long table. Paintings adorned a wall, some of which looked vaguely familiar to Carol. She suspected they were genuine masterpieces. Wall-to-wall windows faced south in what Carol realized was the reverse of the view from the Ramirez home. The sun had set, and the myriad of city lights twinkled below.
    “How do you like my view?”
    Carol turned to see an old man wheeling himself into the room. The wheelchair rolled almost silently on the hardwood floor. His white hair and white face gave him a ghostly appearance, and his body looked as if it had shrunk to something less than normal size. It reminded her of a mummy she had undoubtedly seen in a museum somewhere. He was well-dressed, however, in slacks and a blue blazer with a red silk scarf tucked into his shirt that was unbuttoned at the top.
    “I love it.” Carol tried to sound enthusiastic, even though she preferred the view from the Ramirez house. However, she knew you didn’t tell a billionaire he had a second-rate view.
    “Welcome to my humble abode. You’re Carol.” He rolled over to her and grasped her hand in both of his. She kept her grip loose, afraid if she squeezed, he’d crumble into dust.
    Ault turned toward Beard. “Jake, baby, how’re they hangin’?”
    “Fine, Seb. Good to see you.”
    Ault’s hand disappeared inside Beard’s, but Carol noticed Beard used no pressure as they shook.
    “Let’s not waste time on formalities. It took you guys so long to get here I’m starving.”
    “May I use your bathroom first?” Carol had been feeling the pressure for a while.
    “Of course. Go out that door, down the hall on the left.”
    The bathroom was large and had gold fixtures. The tub, big enough for two people, had jets. It would be fun to take a bubble bath here with candles. Carol looked around, quickly, admiring the layout, but she didn’t want to keep Ault waiting. She washed her hands, fluffed her hair, and returned to the dining room.
    Ault and Beard were bantering about football. When he saw Carol, Ault rolled up to the end of the table and indicated the chairs on either side for Carol and Beard. As they sat down, Ault rang a bell on the table. A large woman appeared out of a side door with a tray of food. The man who had met them at the door helped her serve.
    The food was what Carol figured must be served at a training table for a football team—with emphasis on steak and potatoes. Carol was certain she wasn’t a vegetarian, but she was glad there was also a green salad. Beard helped himself to monster portions, whereas Ault and Carol ate much more modestly.
    Beard was served a beer. Ault said he was under doctor’s orders not to drink. He had iced tea. Offered a choice of beverage, Carol picked iced tea. She wanted to keep her wits about her.
    Ault kept up a steady stream of conversation, directed mostly at Carol. “You may be wondering why I don’t have a motorized chair. Actually I do, but my doctor wants me to get some exercise, so I use this one indoors. I drive the other one when I’m out and about.”
    Carol tried to be polite. “You have a beautiful place here, Mr. Ault. The view, the paintings…”
    “Yes. Money may not buy happiness, but it does buy a certain amount of beauty.” He looked at her with green eyes. “Speaking of beauty, you look fabulous in that sweater.”
    “Thank