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Lunch With Wanda
Drake parked the car on the route from the FBI office to the restaurant. They waited and watched.
“That’s her,” Wilson said motioning with his head. “I’ll let her go by and catch up with her.”
She walked by and Wilson slowly got out of the car. She crossed the street at the crosswalk and Wilson caught up with her half way into the block.
“Mrs. Kotterman, Wanda!” Wilson said.
She turned around and paused suspiciously. “Arnold? Right?”
“Yes,” Wilson said, “but there has been a slight adjustment. My name at the present, is Wilson Gentry.”
Wanda walked toward Wilson. “Are you okay?” she said.
“I may need some help,” Wilson said.
“Let’s talk,” Wanda said.
“My son is with me,” Wilson said. “I’d like for you to meet him.”
“I’d like to meet him,” Wanda said.
Wilson swung his arm motioning for Drake who was standing by the car. Wilson introduced them and they all walked to the restaurant. They sat at a booth and ordered sandwiches and soft drinks.
“So how can I help you, it’s Wilson now, right?” Wanda said.
“First of all my son is a lawyer and he’s asking we talk off the record,” Wilson said.
“It is not our intent to deceive or to gain access to information we are not entitled to, but I want my father to be armed with as much information as possible so he can adequately make decisions that he might make if he had not incurred memory loss.”
“Doesn’t he sound good?” Wilson smiled. “I paid for that.”
“He sounds like a son interested in his father’s welfare,” Wanda said.
“So,” Drake said raising his eyebrows.
“I do what I can, but I can’t brake my oath or the law,” Wanda said. “If you’re not a serial killer, an enemy of the state, or a Nazi war criminal I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, but don’t cross me.”
“You have our word,” Drake said.
“Very simply find out who Wilson Gentry is,” Wilson said.
“So you did not know who you were when we met on the plane?” Wanda said.
“No,” Wilson said. “There is a woman named Gayle who believes I am Charles Arnold and my son Drake and his sister Missy believe I am Charles Arnold.”
“So now what makes you think you are really Wilson Gentry?” Wanda said.
“A week or so ago I wrote a letter and signed it Wilson Gentry without even knowing it,” Wilson said. “You know, you never think twice when you sign you name.”
“That’s it?” Wanda said.
“This is where we really have to trust each other,” Drake said.
“Go ahead,” Wanda said.
“I work for a law firm,” Drake said. “The head of the firm is a good friend of my father – Charles Arnold. They’ve been friends for as long as I can remember; he ‘s always been a part of our lives. A little more than three years ago I saw a file labeled “Wilson Gentry.” That name does not appear in any documents or data base in our firm. The only place it exists is in my boss’s safe.”
“Your boss is sounding more interesting than your dad,” Wanda said.
“I can’t be a part of this conversation,” Drake said.
“I can’t put my finger prints on this either,” Wanda said. “There are ways around that. I find what information I can and just point you in a direction; the rest is up to you.”
They continued to eat with some light and uncomfortable conversation. When they concluded there was a brief agreement and they parted.