CHAPTER FIFTY
I opened my eyes and wondered where I was. It was the pain killers. They threw me for a loop. But the hospital had only given me a week’s worth, so I hadn’t had any in a few days.
I looked at the doorway to my office and saw Ally standing there.
“What?” I said.
“You were telling me why that fella Greg told Mr. Kessenger about the apartment in that building,” she said. “And then you nodded off.”
I sat up straight in my office chair, tried to stretch. I wasn’t bandaged anymore, but I was still pretty sore.
“Oh, right. Well, it seems he had a plan to kill two birds with one stone. He knew he bought his drugs there and knew there were apartments available. He also knew he could get into the building whenever he wanted to.”
“And this was all because of that girl Angie? The fat one with the glasses?”
“Yes. Greg was in love with her, and he felt that Temp Kessenger was taking her away from him.”
“But he wasn’t.”
“No,” I said, “he was just being nice to her, and that’s all it took to get the poor girl to fall in love with him.”
“Wow,” she said, “I don’t see her inspiring that kind of passion, and I sure don’t see him as a killer.”
“Well,” I said, “there’s somebody out there for everyone. And I think everybody’s got something they’d kill for. They just have to find it.”
She was about to reply when the door opened and somebody walked in.
“Mrs. Kessenger just walked in,” she said.
“Show her in,” I said. “We don’t have any coffee, right?”
“I don’t do coffee,” she said, and went to fetch the lady.
She showed Nancy Kessenger in and I started to stand.
“Don’t bother, Mr. Headston,” she said, getting my name right. “You look like you’re still in pain.”
“A bit sore, yes, ma’am,” I said, settling back into the chair. “What brings you here today?”
“I wanted to give you this, personally,” she said, handing me a check. It had at least as many zeroes on it as the check Griffith had given me.
“What for?” I asked. “You paid my bill, and your lawyer already paid me. Is this the promised bonus?”
“No, this is just from me,” she said, “to show my gratitude.”
It wasn’t necessary, but I wasn’t about to argue. I opened the center door of my desk and dropped the check in.
“And I still have a question,” she added.
“What’s that?”
“The one time I managed to talk to Temp, after he left,” she reminded me, “he said that it was for my own safety.”
I recalled that.
“Do we know what he meant by that?”
“No,” I said, “and we may never know.”
“Could he have been involved in the drug dealing?”
“You tell me, Nancy,” I said. “Would there have been any reason for him to get involved in something like that?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Boredom?”
“Was he bored?”
“Well, he obviously wasn’t happy.”
“As I said,” I went on, “we may never know.”
“Would you consider continuing with the case?”
“I’m afraid that I have some other things to deal with, first,” I said, “like keeping my license. Let me get that done, and maybe later we can revisit this—if you’re still interested.”
“Very well.” She stood up. “I have to go. I’m having lunch with Scott.”
“Walcott?”
She nodded.
“I think he may offer to buy me out.”
It sounded like Mrs. Kessenger was going to make out very well from all this. I walked her to the door and said goodbye, then turned to find Ally staring at me.
“Another check?”
“Yup,” I said. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and we’ll talk about your future.”
“Does the Headstone Agency have a future?”
“If it does,” I said, “you’ll be part of it, if you want.”
“Like you said,” she replied, “let’s talk over lunch.”
“What about that, John?” Ally asked me in the elevator.
“What about what?”
“Finding out why Kessenger thought what he did was protecting his wife,” she said. “Don’t you want to know what from?”
“That’s one thing you’ll have to learn about this business, Ally,” I said, as the elevator stopped and we stepped out, “sometimes you just can’t find all the answers.”