“I ran into her when I left Susan and Danae,” I answer Mom and then turn to my sister in the backseat. “She had seen you and Danae on the video feed,” I tell her. “She was about to barge into the conference room when I used the transmitter to stop her. She started telling me about the sex school and you know the rest.”
“Did you give her a trigger?” Susan asks.
“No, I didn’t want to cause any more problems with the trigger,” I answer, trying to remember everything I told Tracy.
“Fine time to be concerned about the triggers,” Susan says sarcastically.
“Let’s talk about how we’re going to solve this,” Mom interrupts us. “Any ideas, Nick?”
“Did you use the transmitter, Mom?” I ask.
“No… I didn’t need it,” she answers, obviously wondering what that has to do with anything.
“Then it should still be tuned to Tracy’s frequency.” I say thinking out loud. “That’ll help.” I tell them as I inspect the transmitter.
We discuss various approaches for the rest of the drive, interrupted periodically with phone calls from Dad giving Mom updates on the situation. It seems we’ll be meeting with Tracy and her lawyer in a conference room at Dad’s office. I don’t think Tracy really knows how the transmitter works, and I have a couple of ideas about how we can resolve this but I’m basically going to have to play it by ear.
As we pull into the parking lot of Dad’s building I tell Susan to go into the conference room with Mom and text me who’s there.
“Just tell them I’m in the restroom and I’ll be right there,” I say. I wait in the men’s room until I receive Susan’s text. Dad, Tracy, her lawyer and a bodyguard, occupy the conference room along with Mom and Susan. I put the earbuds in, take a deep breath and push open the conference room door. Pressing the button, I address Tracy across the room.
“Tracy, why don’t you and your bodyguard wait in the hallway with Susan while I talk with your lawyer.” I press the button and start dialing, picking up several frequencies as I try to figure out which one is the lawyer.
“Okay, Nick,” Tracy says, standing up and motioning for her bodyguard to follow her.
“Just a minute!” her lawyer yells, jumping to his feet. “She told me you might do something like this. Tracy stay right here,” he says, blocking her way.
“It’s okay. I’m just going to wait outside a minute,” she says, stepping around the lawyer.
“When you hear what I have to say, you’ll be glad she’s outside,” I tell him, still frantically searching for his frequency. It becomes easier when Susan, Tracy and her bodyguard leave the room. Okay, I’ve got it.
“What’s your name?” I ask when the lawyer’s eyes glaze over.
“Stan,” he answers in a dull monotone.
“What has she told you Stan?” I ask, wondering if Tracy has shared everything with him.
“Only that she wanted me here so you wouldn’t try anything,” he answers and I can’t help but smile. “She didn’t even tell me what she wanted from you. It was all very weird.”
“Did she give you anything?” I ask.
“Yes she gave me a sealed package,” He glances at his briefcase. “I don’t know what’s in it.”
“Please give it to me,” I say, He reaches inside his briefcase and brings out a small padded mailing envelope. It probably has a DVD of the video. I thank Stan and tell him he can go home now. While he packs up his stuff I step into the hall and dial in the bodyguard’s frequency. This is going better than I thought it would. I dismiss him too and then usher Tracy back into the conference room as I zap her with the transmitter again.
“Who else knows about that happened in your office?” I ask Tracy as Mom, Dad and Susan watch us.
“No one,” she says. “I didn’t want to trust anyone.” Okay. That’s good news.
“How many copies did you make of the video feed from your office?” I ask.
“Three copies,” she answers.
“Where are they?”
“I gave one to Stan. I mailed one to myself and I brought one with me today to negotiate with,” she answers.
“May I have the one you brought with you?” I ask
“I’ve got it,” Dad says somewhat stoically. “It’s in my office. I verified that it portrayed what she says it does,” he adds without offering any further information.
“Okay.” Fuck! I wonder if he saw me watching him and Mom fucking? “Where did you mail it?” I ask Tracy.
“It’s Sunday, Nick,” Susan interjects. “She couldn’t have mailed it.”
“I dropped it in the drop box at my apartment building,” Tracy answers. I think about this for a minute before proceeding.
“What else did you do to guard against me using the transmitter on you again?” I ask Tracy as Mom sits forward anxious for her answer.
“I wrote a note and sent myself an e-mail detailing everything that happened,” Tracy answers. Wow. That’s pretty good thinking. I’m not sure I would have thought of all this if I were in her place.
“Where’s the note?” Mom asks, picking up the questioning.
“I put it in the envelope with the copy I mailed to myself,” Tracy says.
“Did you do anything else to safeguard yourself?” Mom asks.
“No,” Tracy answers. Mom sits back in her chair considering what needs to be done.
“Okay,” Mom says, turning to me. “We need her to delete the e-mail and then we need to retrieve the copy she mailed to herself. I think about this for a minute and then turn back to Tracy.
“Did you delete the original copy of the video from the surveillance computer?” I ask.
“Oh, good thinking, Nick,” Susan exclaims.
“Yes, I didn’t want anyone else stumbling across what happened,” Tracy answers.
“What were you going to do with the transmitter if I gave you one?” I ask curiously.
“Based on what I saw, I could do whatever I wanted,” she answers flatly. “Every one of our clients would be able to live out his fantasy and perform sexually as if he were a young man again,” she says, surprising me with her answer.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Dad says participating in the conversation for the first time. “I’m surprised I never though of that when I had the transmitter.”
“You weren’t exactly yourself,” Mom reassures him and I glance at Susan, rolling my eyes.
“Why don’t we get Tracy to delete her e-mail,” I suggest, “then Susan and I can go to her apartment with her to retrieve the package.”
“What if we can’t get it from the mail drop?” Susan asks.
“Then we’ll have to stay with Tracy, at her apartment, until it arrives in the mail,” I answer and Susan smiles at the possibilities.
“Tracy, you will go to your office, sign onto your e-mail account and delete any e-mails that you’ve sent yourself since yesterday morning. Delete them from your in-box, your sent folder and any other folder they might be in. When you’re done you’ll invite Susan and I to spend a few days at your place.” I press the button on the transmitter and Tracy immediately stands up and heads to the door.