Vance put his fingers against his neck and smoothed out his skin.
Steadman went on: “It’s not a spot I generally work on. But I can see how it might bother you. What kind of work are you engaged in, Mr. Hofer…?”
“I used to work for the state police,” Vance said.
“A cop?” the doctor asked him, scrolling.
Vance nodded. “Fifteen years. Before I had to move. Since then I ran a lathe machine in a die factory.”
“I see… And what brings you all the way down here?”
“Your reputation,” was all Vance said, picturing how Steadman would be with the barrel of a gun shoved into his mouth.
“Well, thanks; always nice to hear. Ah, here we go…” Steadman spun the screen around. There were two photos side by side on it. “My guess is that your skin texture seems fully pliant enough for surgery. If you’re interested, I’d like to take a shot of you, do some tests…”
A fury began to build in Vance’s chest. Steadman seemed like a nice guy, but he was the same as those others who had profited from his daughter’s fall. Worse, he hid behind all his big-shot degrees and this fancy office. He would never have to pay. Never. Not unless Vance did what he was here to do.
“I saw you have these clinics…” Vance said.
“Ah, pain remediation, yes…” Steadman spun the monitor back around.
“I was there…”
Steadman’s look shifted a little, like he thought Vance was really only here for some kind of pain matter, and not what he’d said at all.
“My daughter…” Vance felt behind him for the gun. “Back in Georgia… She’s-”
All of a sudden the intercom came on. “Doctor… Sorry to interrupt, but I have someone who says you’re expecting his call and that he’s traveling-”
“Who is it?” Steadman asked, over the speaker.
“Michael Dinofrio,” said his assistant. “He says you know him.”
“Yes, tell him to hold on.” Steadman turned to Vance. “I’ll only be a second,” he said apologetically. “I’m heading up to Jacksonville for a medical conference in a couple of weeks and I just need to iron this one thing out…”
Vance nodded, his rage starting to recede.
“Thanks!
While Steadman spoke, Vance noticed the photographs on the credenza behind him. Some of the doc with some celebrities Vance thought he recognized; others… One was of a pretty young girl. Looked like a teenager. In a denim jacket with flowery embroideries all over it. Her head was tilted onto Steadman’s shoulder. The two of them beaming. Looked just like him. Real nice…
And the other-that same girl in a riding outfit and cap, on a horse, captured in midjump.
“Mike, that’ll be perfect,” Steadman finished up. “You can e-mail me directions to your house in Avondale. I’ll be flying up that morning. I’ll send you my travel details soon as I know them. Thanks again, buddy. And I can’t wait to see you and Gail…”
Steadman shifted back around and put down the phone. “Sorry about that. I’m giving a speech up in Jacksonville at a Doctors Without Borders conference in a couple of weeks…”
“Yeah. An old college buddy of mine is a member of this new Jack Nicklaus course… Impossible to get onto, know what I mean? So I’ll pop up early and we’ll get to play a few. You a golfer, Mr. Hofer?”
Vance shook his head. “No.”
“Lucky for you!” Steadman leaned back in his chair. “You would think the human race would have evolved enough than to whack a little white ball as far as possible, chase after it, and call it fun! Dogs maybe.”
Vance pretended to laugh, his mind off on a new path now, at its own fork in the road- something new formulating inside him. Even more satisfying.
“Your daughter…?” he asked the doctor, pointing toward the credenza.
Steadman looked behind him and nodded proudly. “My little girl… Not so little anymore; that was taken a while back, she’s actually nineteen. Just started college last fall. You say you have a daughter yourself…?”
“Yes. ’Manda,” Vance replied.
“Then you know what it’s like, right?” Steadman shrugged wistfully. “Always our little girls…”
“Yes. I guess you’d do just about anything,” Vance said, nodding, “to keep ’em from harm.” His blood began to throb again, but this time with a rush of delight at the plan he was forming. Far better than this.
That was near Yulee, where Vance used to live when he was on the force.
And he knew someone there. Someone who owed him a favor.
A real big favor, Vance recalled.
“I think I’m gonna have to think about all this,” Vance said, rubbing his neck. “Maybe I will take a name from up there. How about I let you know?”
“Of course,” Steadman answered, easing back upright. “You know how to reach us. Maryanne will be happy to answer any further questions you may have. As well as the costs.”
“Perfect.” Vance nodded, looking at him.
Steadman came around the desk. “We’ll be happy to print off any information about the procedure to help you in your decision.” He walked him toward the door. “In the meantime, it’s been a pleasure… Very nice to meet you, Mr. Hofer…” He extended his hand.
Vance took it, and looked back into Steadman’s unsuspecting eyes. “Pleasure’s all mine.”
Chapter Forty
It all began to take shape for Vance, on his way back to Acropolis, and he felt a renewed sense of purpose and life.
What he had to do to make Steadman properly pay.
Jacksonville. He had three weeks to make it happen.
It was all starting to come alive!
He spent close to a day driving around in his blue Mazda, hashing out the details. Simply killing Steadman now would be far too easy. He had to make him feel pain. The same pain Vance had felt. How it felt to have everything taken away. Everything he had built up in his life. Everything he loved. Cherished. Taken away.
He had to rob the man of everything he once held dear.
Because ultimately, Vance realized, Steadman was no better than any of the others, no better than Wayne, Dexter, or Schmeltzer. All those fancy degrees and accomplishments… put a gun to his mouth and he would shit in his pants like all the rest. Beg. Offer up everything he had.
How else could you make a man like him ever feel remorse? How else could you make him be accountable for his actions?
Vance knew that someone like Steadman felt that the way he was perceived by the world was just as vital as
