In Love and Diplomacy

Chapter Thirty-Five: Paint My World Green

"I can see the end as it begins, my one condition is
Say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress
Staring at the sunset, babe
Red lips and rosy cheeks
Say you'll see me again, even if it's just in your wildest dreams"

- Taylor Swift, "Wildest Dreams"

Chapter Thirty-Five

For days, we drove.

Reed grew increasingly agitated as the days bled together in uniform routine. Simon checked in daily to give updates on Greystone, but there was little to say. He'd been shuffled to oversee the new case. Still, he worked as much as he could to keep a hand in both, reliably keeping Reed updated as each case progressed.

Quentin remained silent.

Simon said Quentin was busy, and I could only imagine. Given everything I'd seen and heard from Quentin, I could believe he was neurotic and obsessive about both cases. I could believe he was determined to redeem his company's reputation by solving two cases at once, but I also believed too little headway was being made on this front.

The search for Warren Cawton unbearably slogged along. Beck was torn just as Simon was, divided between two cases. When Quentin had ordered a complete split of resources, the analyst team had been divided between the cases, and Beck had ended on the other side. He still insisted on calling frequently, just as Simon did. Both of them were overworked and stretched thin, but they never faltered or complained. If there was one thing to say about the men of Greystone, it was their truly admirable work ethic and dedication to helping others.

Nearly a week later, Beck was still trying his best to move everyone forward. He mercilessly dug for information on Warren Cawton. Phone records, possible family connections, financial records. Unfortunately, Warren was surprisingly proficient at staying off the radar. Beck had resorted to digging into his father's finances, looking for any lifelines he could've thrown his son. How else, they reasoned, had Warren survived all these years without Seaplast? Without any other job records? How else would he have survived his downfall other than a financial net from his father?

That week gave enough time for theories to grow strained. Beck's new assignment was yet another questionable decision, especially considering he'd been so heavily involved in the Cawton case since the beginning. With every subdued call, I wondered about the mindset that'd driven that choice. What was Quentin's thought process regarding the team split? The most efficient course of action would've been to keep the key investigators on this case. Instead, it seemed almost every person that'd been deeply involved in this investigation had been turned over.

It didn't make sense to me. I could only assume I couldn't see the strategy due to my lack of expertise, but if there was a strategy I didn't see, Reed didn't see it either. He had the expertise and he found no reason behind these decisions. Was Quentin blinded by chasing redemption? Was he making desperate, foolish decisions when Greystone needed stability? Was he jeopardizing Greystone's ability to get the job done?

It was never discussed further between us.

Reed was troubled and frustrated at his boss's decisions, wanting to be there to help steer the ship away from the rocks that rapidly approached. It was like Quentin was chasing a light, seemingly unaware it was a lighthouse that cautioned danger and destruction, and not a glimmer at the end of a tunnel. And as the ship neared possible ruin, Reed grew more and more grim.

Guilt, which for so long had been a rock in my gut, grew heavier with every passing day. It swelled as I watched Reed grapple with his new role, forced to spectate from afar as his team struggled. That was his team, one he'd dedicated his heart and soul to for years. His career was his life, his purpose, and his tomorrow; I understood that better than anyone. How would I feel if I was forced to watch, unable to help, as my team ran themselves into the ground? How would I feel if I was torn between obligations? If he wasn't forced to protect me, he'd be at Greystone. He would be leading. He would be helping his team.