Page 51 of The Tomorrows After You
Geoffrey Brown, Executive Director
Arthur Plainbottom, Director of Operations
I clicked on Arthur’s name and was given a headshot and a brief bio. It was Katie’s father, and I was struck by how…severehe looked. Powerful but with a violent undertone. Then I remembered back to what that elderly woman had mentioned. He had some kind of cancer and didn’t work anymore.
I searched Geoffrey Brown’s name, but the results were thin. I found him on Facebook. He didn’t have much posted, just a bunch of outlandish posts that were probably meant to be searches. I clicked on his friends list but it was private.
I took a long sip of red wine, clicking on his photos. I scrolled through them until a familiar face halted me. It was an old photo that had been scanned in.
Geoffreywasstanding at the front of Redeemer’s Church,holdinga small baby in a white gown. Heembracedanother man his age; Elias Blackwell.
Geoffrey Brown, executive director of the water authority,hadbeenElias Blackwell’s best friend andwasJeremy Blackwell’s godfather. A smilecreptacross my face.
The next morning, I dismounted my bike in front of the county office building.
I walked into the office building like I had a purpose so no one would stop me. It was a dusty old building that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the eighties.
“Hi, I have a nine a.m. meeting with Geoffrey.” I offered the receptionist my sweetest smile. She frowned, looking at her computer. I didn’t have a meeting, but you’d be surprised with how many people you can get through to if you acted like you knew what you were doing.
She pushed a few buttons and lifted the receiver. “Your nine a.m. is here.” She paused, eyeing me up and down. “No, I’m not sure. I don’t see anything.” She listened again before putting the receiver down. “You can go right in.”
Geoffreywasplenty older than his headshot. Hewasa round man with a thick neck and a red nose. Heopenedhis eyes,surprisedto see me sweep into the room and sit right down in the chair in front of his desk. Hehadstoodto greet me butsatdown,amusedat my forwardness.
“Good morning, I’m sorry I don’t seem to have you on mycalendar, Miss…”
“Nicolette Parker, nice to meet you, Geoffrey.” I sat back and clasped my hands over my stomach, gazing around at the updated office furniture that didn’t match the old building.
“Well, what can I do for you, Miss Parker?”
I took a breath, chewing on my tongue as if I wasn’t sure where to start.
“My parentsmovedus here when Iwasnine, but you know, before that Iwentto this real hippie-dippy elementary school with a girl whohadtheworstallergies, ever. I mean you name it, shesneezedat it.” Iobservedhisamusedexpression while helistened,confused. “But therewasone particular allergy they couldn’t figure out. Every night,she’dget these mouth sores and hives all over her face and they could not, for the life of them, figure out whatwascausingit.”Istaredat him,waitingfor anything to register.“Turns out, shewasallergic to her toothpaste. In particular thefluoridein her toothpaste. But did you know that less than one percent of the populationhasa fluoride allergy?That’swhat makes it so popular and commonplace foraddingto a municipality’s water supply.”
I paused and cocked my head, watching for his reaction. He sat still. He wasn’t clueless, I’d seen his eyes widen when I said the wordfluoride. He shifted in his seat.
He smiled and held his hands out. “Like you said, it’s quite a common practice.”
“Except, the town voted down the proposition that would have added fluoride to the water eight years ago.” His jaw clenched.
“Well, then they musthavebundledthe prop with another vote in the last few years because Ihaveasignedwork order from the mayor himself.”
I felt myself start. I had looked up every bill and every item that had been put to vote over the last eight years and nothing approved the motion. I took a deep breath, ready to call his bluff.
“That’sgreat, could I see a copy of that workorder?”
All amusement fell from his eyes but he kept his mouth in a toothy grin. “Of course,” he said through gritted teeth.
I followed him down the stairwell into the basement, lined with rows and rows of file cabinets. It was dark, only a few free-hanging light bulbs lit the hallway. Geoffrey led me down to the far end. I watched him unlock a small wire door that held a bunch of cabinets labeledCounty Records. He grinned, opening the door for me.
“Ladies first.”
I narrowed my eyes, a prickly suspicion putting me on edge. This was Godot, I reminded myself. Not the Middle East.
Itooka cautious step inside. My stomachsankat the sound of the door swingingshutbehind me. Ispunaround just in time to see himjammingthe key back in the door.
“Hey!” I shouted, but he was already taking off back down the hallway.
“We’ll see what the boss wants to do with you,”hethrewover his shoulder, menacingly, beforedisappearingup the stairs.
