12

 

THE LAB, CARMEL VALLEY

Some time later, not straightaway—she knew how to be discreet—Mel Barbieri checked her reflection in the compact mirror she kept in the desk drawer, tried in vain to tuck the escaped tendrils into her bun, gave up with a humph, and headed to Messenger’s office.

She stood outside chatting with Mandy, waiting to be noticed. No one interrupted the boss when his door was closed. Messenger might not have appeared to be working—he sat, long legs braced on his shredder, staring out of his window—but Mel knew that was what he did for a good few hours every day. He sat and he thought. She could only assume it was about work, cooking up another brilliant trade or investment, but for all she knew, he could have been brooding about the family he no longer saw.

After five minutes, he swung round on his swivel chair, frowned at Mel as if trying to place her, then beckoned her in. It looked like he was coming back from a long way off.

“What’s up Mel?” he asked, leaning forward, arms crossed on his desk, the busy doctor asking his patient her symptoms.

Mel had a random desire to peel off her shirt and ask him about her rotator cuff. She quickly subdued it.

“Interesting, our new recruit…” She threw out her gambit.

“In which particular respect?” asked Messenger, glancing at his wall clock, a look Barbieri saw. She got to the point.

“No PR. That’s why. Nada. No photo, no write-up. Nothing to even keep on file. Premature, she called it. She was adamant, tried to backpedal, but she was still adamant.”

Messenger leaned back in his chair, eyed Barbieri with interest. They all competed for that look, some got it regularly. She got it rarely. The job of the unsung. Now she felt the glow.

“Interesting, potentially, but she’s just come on board. PR right now is arguably premature.

Mel shook her head. “Nah. It’s more than that. She dressed it up saying she’d done enough posing in swimsuits, just wanted to get on with her job, but I didn’t buy it.”

“And your theory?”

“I almost got the impression she was running from something. Just a look in her eyes, just for a second, and then she covered it up, all California surfer drawl. All cool. Only it wasn’t. I saw fear in her eyes.”