Mr. Write [COMPLETED]

Chapter 16 - "You have a guy named Pacho?"

Elliot sat before the large office windows staring out on the gray day. She took a sip of her coffee as the door opened and Beck stepped inside. He glanced at her before tossing his satchel onto the couch and grabbing a cup for himself.

"The window washer has changed his pattern," Elliot said. "Instead of washing vertically, he is washing horizontally." She scowled. "I don't like it."

"That's because it's a new window washer," Beck said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I'm sure you could make a call to get him to wash vertically."

He moved over to Elliot and settled on the stool beside her. She didn't look over.

"No," she said. "People can't change. He will have to go."

Beck took a sip of coffee, staring out the window.

"Gun to the back of the head in a dark alley or a drop from the top floor?" he asked. 

"Top floor. Best to make it look like an accident." 

"What will his family say?"

"That he should have washed vertically from the start," Elliot said.

Beck nodded and took another sip. Curls of steam floated from their cups as they sat studying the world outside.

"Did Marilyn leave?" he asked.

Elliot turned to him with a look of surprise.

"How'd you know she was leaving?" she asked.

"Last week at the Cape she told me about her musical opening in Chicago."

Elliot shifted back to the window. Water droplets hit the glass before rolling away.

"She left yesterday," she said. "Not sure when I'll see her next. Most likely at Michelle's wedding."

"That's coming up soon, right?"

Elliot nodded, unable to hold back the frown that slipped onto her face.

"Yes, the dreaded day of doom will soon dawn."

The world seemed to darken in Elliot's mind. She scowled at the gray clouds as if they were to blame for the future event.

"What makes the day so dreadful?" Beck asked, looking at her.

Elliot didn't respond right away.

"It's not just one thing," she said. "It's a million little things. Having to go back to California. Having to see that other part of the family. Having to pretend life is fine. And we all ignore the pink elephant in the corner, crappy on the carpet."

The edge of Elliot's lips curled upward.

"Wow, my alliteration is on point today," she said.

She looked over at Beck, but his face was unreadable, except for an intent look in his eyes. Elliot took a sip of her coffee and looked back to the Common.

"Don't worry," she said. "This isn't something new. Life goes on. With any luck Cece and I will pull off our plan of destroying the wedding and slip out of the country before they can discover we were to blame."

She shrugged, still not looking at Beck.

"We're still missing a helicopter, twenty gallons of orange paint, three original paintings and a paper clip but it should be fine. I hear it's easy to come by a helicopter. Paper clips on the other hand, that might be trickier."

"Have you tried Staples?"

"We would, but we've been banned from every Staples branch in the U.S. Apparently setting up your office and holding conferences in their stores is frowned upon."