“Long story,” Simon said, then looked at Chris. “But also, no. Not if we can find another way.”
“What are you thinking?”
“A coroner. The easiest way for Everett to get a death certificate would be to bribe one to proclaim some dead body is me. And there have to be dozens of unclaimed bodies available. Pick one, call it Simon Montague, cremate it, and no one will know the difference. Except for Everett and that other guy.”
“If we find them, they will talk.” Stan’s narrowed eyes assured that was a certainty.
“But we don’t know who they are,” Chris said.
“The death certificate will have the signature,” Simon said. “But they wouldn’t issue a copy to either of us.” Although it was fun to imagine himself rocking up to the records office and, upon being asked what relation he was to the deceased, saying,I am him.
“We could see it online,” Simon continued. “Assuming Everett organized it, he’d have a code or a password somewhere.”
“I can attempt to get that tomorrow,” Stan said. “Since you’ve been gone, Everett poached me as his own private guard. Under the guise of that, I can gain access to his computer.”
“You’re sure he won’t suspect you?”
“He has no reason to. Until now, I didn’t know you were still alive.”
“Point made.” Simon rubbed his chin. “Let’s meet tomorrow, then. I’m still waiting for my phone to be fixed. Once I have it, we’ll track down that certificate and the office that issued it.” He gestured to the waiter for the check.
“Mr. Simon,” Stan said. “After this is done, you will be the CEO again, right?”
Simon smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”
“Good.” Stan downed the rest of his beer in one long gulp. “I like this job.”
Chapter 24
“Mr. Simon?”
Simon raised his head from the pillow, his vision eventually unblurring into Stan, blocking the door with his broad shoulders.
“Why are you in my bedroom?”
“Because you have a meeting in an hour, and you weren’t responding.”
“I left my phone …” Hmm, where was it? “In the living room. Perhaps.”
“I know. I found it because it kept ringing.” Stan held it up. “There are twenty-three unanswered calls from an Alicia.”
Right. That’s why his head hurt so much. Bad breakup. “Ignore her. I already told her everything she needed to hear.”
“And the meeting?”
Ah, screw this.“You know what, Stan?” Simon rolled over and put a pillow over his head. “I’m not in the mood today. Tell everyone I’m dead.”
***
Simon walked into the phone repair shop with his hood pulled up, wearing the sunglasses Chris had gotten him. He looked ridiculous, but the more time passed, the more likely the word of an escaped passport-stealing criminal spread from the airport, so he had to be careful.
He pushed his ticket down the counter. “Picking up my phone.”
He got it without problems and turned it on as he left the shop. He did a quick check-up to see if everything was still on and working fine. Leona was still installed, his calendar, empty as it was, appeared intact …
Simon scratched his head. If he needed his phone so urgently, why’d he take it for repairs instead of buying a new one? Right—all the photos Chris had taken in New Zealand. He didn’t want to lose them before he sent them over to her. Funny how that escaped his memory for a second.
Those photos appeared intact as well. There were him and Chris, on the last selfie she took at the airport, and there …
