Chapter 14

 

Juliette yanked the tangled sheet from her legs. She hadn’t slept well in the two nights since Friday’s visit by Elmer Reddick at the office. She’d driven home in a blur, her mind churning with the lawman’s comment. Al should have been at the condo and she would ask him, and he would no doubt have a simple answer to reassure her. But all she’d found at the condo was a note: Sorry baby, got called out of town on business for the weekend.

Business on Easter weekend? She phoned his house where Ernestina the maid told her she had not seen Señor Proletti since early that morning. If not for Reddick’s remark, Juliette would have suspected another woman. But if Al really was being investigated by the sheriff’s department … everything took on a whole new meaning. What could he have done? It had to be something simple, such as not getting a required building permit. If only she could talk to him.

Of the possibilities—trouble with the law or seeing another woman—Juliette wasn’t sure which disturbed her more. Her daddy, a preacher in Dalhart, would be horrified to see what she’d got herself into. Mama might once have echoed Daddy’s words, although privately she usually offered a little sympathy. At least there would have been a shoulder to cry on. But his new wife, whom Juliette could not bear to think of as step-mom, was completely caught up in appearances and would see that she was disowned on the spot.

Juliette got out of bed and padded barefoot, wearing only a satin kimono, to the kitchen where she started the coffee maker. She reached for the wall phone and started to dial Carol Ann. Set the phone back. In their last conversation Carol Ann had been full of exciting plans for a weekend trip to St. Augustine with Tommy. She felt her eyes well up. There was no one she could talk to. She took her coffee to the living room, curled up in the corner of the sectional and stared out at the ocean. Easter morning.

The phrase brought back memories of sunrise church services under the trees in Texas, a bigger-than-usual Sunday dinner followed by an Easter egg hunt and baskets filled with cellophane grass and jelly beans, new shoes and dress—something frothy and precious. As for most children, the holiday had been a high point in her year. Now it was nothing but another day at a beach filled with tourists in bikinis, laughing too loudly under the influence of way too many drinks. A tear plopped into her coffee cup.

She set the beverage aside and walked to the sliding door, eyeing her narrow balcony and looking down at the patch of concrete surrounding the pool, eighteen floors below. Laughter and shrieks from the crowd drifted upward on the warm spring air. She felt one moment’s longing to simply dive off. A child’s voice giggled and shrieked “Mommy!” and the feeling evaporated in an instant.

“I can’t sit around like this and I can’t just do nothing!” she yelled into the empty living room.

She took a shower and washed her hair. Under the steaming spray she made a plan. She dried off and slipped into a favorite pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Grabbing her purse and keys she headed to the office.

I can’t very well ask Al what’s going on if I don’t have a clue where to begin, she thought as she cruised along Greenlee Boulevard. But down inside what she really wondered was whether she should talk to him or whether she’d better do as the deputy advised and stay clear. Either way, she needed to know.

The construction yard was dead silent. She’d never been here without the roar of big equipment engines out in the back lot and the bustle of men and vehicles moving in and out. The wide chain link gate leading to the back was closed and padlocked, a sight she’d never seen before. In fact, Friday afternoon was the first time she’d been left alone to lock up. If Al were to come in, she would have some explaining to do. She thought about this as she parked and unlocked the front door. She could say that she’d left a personal item behind and needed it. What item? She scrambled for ideas while she entered the alarm code at the keypad on the white box beside the door. That was another thing he’d only now begun to trust her with, a key and the code. A shiver passed through her as she considered his reaction if he felt she had betrayed him.

She left the reception room lights off and went directly to her own office. The two plants on her desk looked desperately dry. Good—that would be her excuse. She set her purse on the desk beside them and brought a cup of water from the kitchenette. The moment she heard a noise at the door she would be ready with her plausible justification for being there.

The building felt eerily quiet without the constant hum of the AC and fluorescent lights. Even her sandals on the tile made too much noise. She tiptoed to Al’s office, chiding herself for being so jumpy. With the door to the lobby and the window blinds closed, there was no way anyone could know she was in there. She kept one ear tuned to the bell at the front door as she stepped behind Al’s desk and reached for the center drawer. A tug. Locked.

She tried each of the file drawers to the left and right of the knee space. All securely locked as well. His credenza held two more file drawers and a center section with doors across it. Frustration mounted as she discovered all were locked. Come to think of it, she’d never actually had access to any of those drawers; each time she finished a letter or handled a file she brought it to his Inbox and set it there. He’d always done his own filing. The fact had never struck her as odd until now. What executive filed his own letters unless he was hiding something in those drawers?

She chewed at her lower lip for a moment. She had no idea if the drawers were locked during business hours or not. It could be that he’d simply taken the precaution because of the long weekend. She spotted the sharp metal letter opener near his leather-rimmed desk pad. A few stabs at the lock on one of the drawers yielded no result except some tiny scratch marks on the lock.

Stupid, Juliette. Don’t do it. If he spots those he’ll know what you tried.

She replaced the letter opener exactly as she’d found it and went back to her own office. Across the hall, Marion Flightly’s door was closed, as usual. Hmm … Who would have better access to the business’s innermost secrets than the bookkeeper?

She scooted across the hall and tried the door. Not surprisingly, it too was locked. She debated the letter-opener trick—maybe a door lock was different than a desk lock—but the sharp old bird would surely notice even the slightest difference in the appearance of the door or her office. She’d bragged in the coffee room, more than once, how easily she noticed discrepancies in figures and how her bank register was never out of balance. And she’d commented each time Juliette wore a new pair of shoes or carried a new purse. It wasn’t worth the risk of being called out in front of the others.

Sheila’s desk proved to be a much better target. None of the drawers were locked and Juliette rifled them guilt-free. Unfortunately, all she found besides the standard pens, notepads and message books were a bottle of Glowing Flame nail polish, a hairbrush, a box of tampons, two dried up tubes of Superglue and a spare Bic lighter.

The file-sized drawer held a few thin manila folders which seemed unimportant. Toward the back were spiral bound message books with yellow duplicates of the phone messages she took all day. This could be good, Juliette thought. The forms were two-part, four to a sheet. The upper pink copy was perforated so four separate messages could be written and torn out. A sheet of carbon paper copied the messages onto yellow duplicates which stayed in the book. She had one like it at her own desk. Al often asked for someone’s phone number and it was handy to go back to those yellow copies to find it.

She paged through one of the books, looking for … what, exactly? She wasn’t even sure. She came across familiar client names and others who were unknown to her. But what did that mean? Nothing, really. She’d been in the office twenty minutes already and knew she dare not stay longer, especially if someone saw her car, casually mentioned it to Al, and she were to try using her plant-watering excuse. That was a five-minute task. She needed to get out now.

She put the message books back in the order she’d found them, watered her plants, retraced her steps to be sure all lights were off, all trace of her presence gone. Her hand shook a little as she entered the alarm code and locked the front door, but no one was outside. Cars on the street roared past at their usual pace, no one turning a head to look her direction as she started her car and pulled out.

Across the street from her condo she spotted a little street fair with food vendors and crafts booths fronting the beach. She parked the Camaro in her underground spot and walked over, deciding to clear her head. Her stomach rumbled at the scent of grilled meat and she ordered something billed as the Latin Macho Burger, eating it as she walked the beach. Stretching her legs and breathing the fresh sea air felt good. Tossing the wrapper from her sandwich into a bin, she browsed a booth selling handmade bead earrings and bought herself a pair in shades of blue and purple.

She’d probably blown everything out of proportion this morning. That deputy was full of crap and Al really did have a business trip this weekend. He loved her. She worked by his side every day and slept with him almost every night. Surely he had no secrets from her. She walked home, put on her new earrings and settled on the sofa with a book she’d been wanting to read for a long time.

Monday morning, Al put her mind at rest when he walked into her office looking jaunty and somewhat amorous. He closed the door and took her hand, pulling her up from her chair and pressing his body close.

“Umm, I missed you,” he whispered in her ear, raking his fingers through her hair.

“I missed you too. The weekend was too long.”

“Feel like company tonight?” he asked. He’d reached for his coat pocket and pulled out a small square box.

Her breath caught as he put it in her hand. She took a step back and lifted the lid. An exquisite heart-shaped pendant, covered in tiny diamonds, glittered under the lights.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her breath coming quickly.

“For the most beautiful girl in the world.” He pulled the delicate chain from the box and draped it around her neck, stepping behind to hook the clasp.

Juliette cooled slightly at his words. She knew good and well she was not the most beautiful girl in the world and the words were meant to pacify her when he knew she’d been peeved with him. But when he stroked her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes, she forgot all that.

“Let me take you to dinner, that seafood place you love so much, then we’ll go home and …” His eyebrows wiggled. Her body warmed.

She smiled and shooed him back to his own office, then immediately went to the ladies room to look at the necklace in the mirror. It was now the third time he’d given her diamonds. One of these times would the gift be a ring?

“Al’s going down one of these days, hon, and you don’t want to be there.” The voice of the deputy intruded into her thoughts.

“No.” She said it out loud to erase his voice and shake off the memory of his visit.

Turning her back on the mirror she left the restroom and went back to her desk. But Reddick’s words would not completely go away. Why was Al’s desk locked? What secrets were hidden in there or in Marion’s office? She didn’t like it that the lawman who’d known Al since they were kids now seemed intent on getting him.

She had a hard time concentrating on her typing and found herself whiting out a lot of mistakes. A picture of the florid-faced deputy stayed in her head. He was probably just jealous. Al had become hugely successful, lived in a mansion, bought lavish gifts for his girlfriend. And Reddick—his life must seem completely dull and dreary in comparison. Life in a drab brown uniform and squad car, a public servant’s salary that probably didn’t go far enough. There was probably a chubby wife and three extremely average kids at home. No wonder he was jealous of his old schoolmate. That had to be it.

Even if it is just jealousy, she told herself, the man could be dangerous to Al. Might try to frame him for something, just to make him suffer. She vowed to keep an eye on the situation. If she heard anything more, she would warn Al before Reddick could cause trouble.

She rolled a fresh sheet of stationery into the typewriter and redid the botched letter.

 

* * *

 

She arrived a few minutes late for work the next day. After their beautiful dinner together, they went back to the condo where Al had been especially attentive, with a special bottle of wine and a new tape of romantic music. They’d danced on the balcony and made love with a tenderness and passion that took her breath away. Midnight came much too quickly and she asked him to stay the night. At first he’d demurred but finally said he would call Ernestina and let her know not to wait up.

“She worries about me like her own son,” he said.

He went into the living room while Juliette took off her makeup and finished her nightly routine, and he came back with two snifters of brandy.

“One more romantic touch for the perfect evening,” she said with a luxuriant smile.

“I’ll leave first in the morning,” he told her. “You sleep in, baby.”

And so she had. When she walked into the office she thought there was a knowing look on Sheila’s face, even though she’d told Al to make the girls think she’d had an early dental appointment. She went first to the kitchenette for coffee, then carried her mug and purse to her desk. The connecting door was closed but she’d not seen any strange cars in the parking lot, so he must be alone. Maybe he’d like a good morning kiss. She opened the door.

“… not on the record,” he said, pulling a sheaf of pages toward himself.

The other person in the room was Marion, who stood at the boss’s side. She practically flinched when Juliette walked in.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was here.”

Marion gave her a look that said, obviously not.

Al slid the papers under his blotter in a move so smooth most people wouldn’t have noticed.

Juliette fumbled for words, being that the kiss offer wasn’t exactly the thing to say now. “Just letting you know I’m in.”

“Dental appointment go okay?” he asked with an impartial smile.

“Just perfect.” She backed out.

A minute later she heard the other door open and close. Marion had gone back to her office. Al appeared at Juliette’s door right away.

“Sorry, that was a little awkward,” he said.

“Honey, it’s your office. You don’t have to explain to me.”

Something in his expression told her those were exactly his thoughts. He’d merely been polite.

“So, what are we working on today?” she asked.

He stepped back to his desk and brought out two cassette tapes of dictation. She was debating whether to ask about the other papers, the ones he’d taken from Marion, but her phone rang.

“Al Proletti’s office,” she answered.

She didn’t know the male voice and when she asked who was calling, he said, “Tell him it’s New York.”

Okay … She turned to Al. “New York calling.”

His smile dropped away and he stepped quickly into his own space, pushing the door shut on his way to his desk. The door didn’t click firmly and Juliette noticed that it gaped open about a half inch. In case he looked her direction, she made a show of putting paper in the typewriter and placing one of the tapes into the machine.

His tone started out jovially enough, a greeting to someone he knew fairly well, but changed completely once the other man spoke.

“I know, but there were circumstances,” he said.

Silence as he listened to the other man. Juliette began typing furiously, eyes toward her page, even though she had not yet turned on the machine with the dictated tape.

Al’s voice again: “… had to ditch … not sure how much they left behind.”

Again, she typed while he listened.

“That part of it’s fine. I got all the paperwork.”

More silence on his part, punctuated by attempts to interject, being interrupted by the man at the other end.

Juliette typed, caught no more before he slammed the phone down. Through the tiny crack in the doorway she saw him, elbows on the desk, fingers gripping the sides of his head. A violent oath, a palm slapping the desktop. He stood, his eyes scanning the room.

She quickly looked away from the door, sending her attention toward her work. If he spotted the fact that the door hadn’t been closed, he didn’t acknowledge it. A minute later she heard him telling Sheila he was going out. The Porsche started and left the parking lot with a roar.

Juliette wasted no time strolling into his office, all business-as-usual, with the fake typed letter in her hand. His lobby door was closed so she edged the connecting door shut as well. The mysterious papers were still under his blotter and she pulled them out.

Handwritten entries on some kind of crude form, each a half-sized sheet of flimsy paper. The printed information was in Spanish, the handwritten parts in some kind of sketchy code. 540 Kilo said one of them, 200 Kilo on another.

She heard a sound in the hallway, jammed the flimsy sheets back under the blotter and hugged her other letter to her chest as she walked back into her office, hoping her composure hadn’t slipped too badly. Marion stood in the doorway to the hall.

“Hi Marion, can I help you?” Rarely did the bookkeeper come in here, and Juliette was certain her pounding heart must be visible.

“Just wondered if you wanted a cup of tea. I’m heading for the kitchen to get myself one.”

“Thanks, but I still have coffee here.” Juliette flashed her a smile.

The older woman gave her a hard look. Had she only now figured out Juliette was sleeping with the boss? Or did she suspect her younger co-worker of spying? Marion didn’t say another word, just headed toward the kitchen.

Juliette practically fell into her chair, her knees felt so weak. She fiddled with the tape machine but her mind was on those pages under Al’s blotter. What had he been talking about and how did those papers relate? She wished there was a way to get copies of the pages and study them, but she dared not handle them again, especially with Marion’s eagle eye now trained on her.