Dead Right, ep V
Now here he was, still unsure what was going on and feeling tipsier by the moment. The driver/officer was even bigger than Hanson had been, probably as wide as he and Dell if they'd stood shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking their view of the entrance as they walked behind him.
"Good evening, sirs," a lispy man said, greeting them at the door with two guards of his own. A breeze had kicked up, making their clothes lick in the wind. He handed a clipboard to the officer who turned to Dell, who in turn, nodded. He hunched over it with a pen and gave it back. The man took the sheet off the clipboard and handed it to Wenton.
"It's just a non-disclosure thing," Dell hollered over the wind. "No big deal. Trust me, I know a pitbull of a lawyer. If we need to break that, he can make it happen."
Wenton couldn't tell if his brother was telling the truth, but signed. The man took it back, smiled at him with his other hand clapped over the top of his hat to keep from losing it.
"Let's get inside, gentlemen."
The outside of the building had been very non-descript. The only thing that really stood out was the well kept and fenced-in grounds so out of place with the surrounding homes.
Wenton would have guessed Dell was taking him to meet girls, but this was something more. He would have politely turned the one his brother had picked out for him down had that been the case. Wenton still saw his wife's face on just about every other woman he saw. No, the fact his brother had brought him anywhere else showed true growth. It also meant he might not know him as well as he thought. Wenton was proud and disappointed at the same time.
He nudged his arm as they followed the lispy man in the Brookes Brothers suit. "Where are we?"
"In a minute." Dell's voice was distant. He was uncomfortable with something and that made no sense at all. He did know where they were, didn't he?
They came to a security desk and the man spoke in a low voice to the guard sitting behind it. Somehow, the security man was fixing him and Dell in the same stare. It was impressive and intimidating until he blinked and nodded.
The man who'd led them in stood upright and turned around.
"I'm sorry, gentlemen, I've forgotten my manners." He stuck his hand out between Dell and Wenton. "Larry Nibor."
"Oh, Dr. Nibor," Dell stepped in front of the offered hand and took it, gave a few good pumps. "Windel White. This is my brother Wenton."
"Pleased to meet you." Wenton took his hand. It felt squishy, like if he squeezed it Nibor's eyes might bulge out of his head and schloop back in when he let go. He resisted the urge to wipe his hand on his pants.
"I appreciate you giving me the title, but I'm not a doctor." Wenton noticed that the man hadn't stopped smiling since they'd arrived at the front door. "I'm the director, though." He looked at the security guard. "Lenny, we're going to go in now."
"All right, sir."
