Fools of Fortune

by CJ Love

  Delia shrugged.

  Bogart came alongside her and grabbed Delia’s arm in a tight squeeze. “She’s going to freak out, she’s going to freak out,” he said quietly.

  Sanya remained in the cooler for at least thirty seconds with her back to them. The hairy jacket she wore looked kind of like the backside of a woolly mammoth.

  Suddenly, she turned around.

  It scared Delia, and she jumped a little. So did Becca and Bogart.

  “I don’t know what I thought that would do for me.” Moving forward, she placed her hand on the table and took a deep breath. Then she smiled at each of them. “Have you filled Jeanette’s position yet?”

  Delia’s jaw locked down.

  Oh no! She wants to work here?

  Clearing her throat, she said, “Um, no. We’ve got the position posted online.”

  Sanya seemed to relax and leaned on the metal table. “I wonder, Delia, if you think I might be any good at it? I don’t bake or anything, but neither did Jeanette.”

  “Oh, well,” she said, copying Sanya and placing her hand on the table. “The job is posted on Indeed and Monster. Why don’t you apply, but I’ll need to interview at least three people…”

  “You DOLL,” Sanya practically shouted. “At least you’re offering an interview.”

  I did?

  She took Delia’s hands. “Thank you, Delia, and thank you all,” she said, looking at Becca and Bogart. “You’ve been so nice. Oh, I’m just thrilled.” Releasing Delia, she gazed toward the back door. “Do you mind if I leave that way? It’s the shortest distance to the car park, isn’t it? I’m still a little sore from my adventure last night.” To prove it, she slid her hands along the table as she moved along.

  Delia beat her to the door and held it open. “Take care,” she said. Shutting the door, she stared at Bogart and Becca.

  “She’s messed up, man,” Bogart said, sticking his hands in his apron pocket. “Is she usually pretty?”

  “I guess … I don’t know. Sanya’s usually too mean for me to notice that.”

  “I need to introduce her to my stylist,” he said.

  Becca asked, “Are you going to hire her?”

  “Are you kidding?” she moved toward the arch opening and then into the workroom to collect the ceramic bowl.

  Becca and Bogart followed her. She spun toward them. “What am I going to do?”

  Becca shrugged and pulled on her ponytail at the same time. “Interview her and then say you can’t hire her.”

  “But, I have to walk past her apartment every day. She lives four steps away from me.” She bit her lip. “I guess I’m going to force myself to take the fire escape.”

  Becca and Bogart glanced at each other. Becca said, “Um, calm down. You’ll just tell her you’re hiring someone else and then walk past her apartment with your chin up. You don’t have to hire her or hide from her.”

  “Oh my God, you don’t know me at all, do you?”

  * * *

  Delia changed her routine and drove toward Buffalo Wednesday evening. She couldn’t wait to see her father —although she was nervous, too. What if he’d regressed? What if he didn’t know her again?

  Her heart sank a little when he was back in his chair by the window and staring out at the lake beyond it. “Dad?”

  Her father turned his head. His eyes landed on her and then brightened. “Delia!”

  She let out a long breath. Delia had no idea she’d been holding it. “Hey, what are you looking at?” she asked, coming all the way into the room.

  “The leaves,” he told her, gazing out the window again. “It’s fall, Delia.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  He shifted in the seat with one hand on the armrest. “You’ve come early, haven’t you? Earlier in the week, I mean. You were here on Friday.”

  “Yes,” she said, grinning and taking a seat on the edge of his bed. She gazed out the window, too. “I just wanted to see you.”

  He nodded. “You’ve loved me most.”

  “Knock, knock,” someone said from the doorway. Delia expected to see someone from housekeeping when she turned, or perhaps Dr. Montgomery. But what she saw first were … knees.

  Louie Edgar and his wheelchair rolled into the room. His hair was as wild as a Rochester chicken.

  A pair of hands pushed the wheelchair all the way into the room.

  Eddie Chester?

  Delia wiped the look of horror off her face.

  “Delia, hi,” Eddie said, steering the chair toward the edge of the bed and then locking the wheels. “Thomi asked me to bring Louie to see your father.”

  “See?” Louie shouted. He was still dressed in his maroon robe and pajamas. He could be a resident! “Did you hear that, Geoff? This fool thinks I can see you.” He jerked his thumb toward Eddie.

  Eddie rolled his eyes. His hair had grown out a little since he’d visited the bakery. How virile does a guy have to be to grow hair a half an inch a week? Eddie wore a black sweater and gray pants and looked as though he’d just stepped off the homepage of the Art of Manliness website. He smelled like vanilla and lemon—like Thomi.

  It wasn’t enough that they dressed alike? Now they smell alike, too?

  Geoff stared hard at Louie. “What is wrong with you? What has happened?” He glanced at Delia.

  Louie shouted, “I’m blind, you damn fool.”

  “Blind?”

  “Didn’t anybody tell you?” Louie pointed his face toward the ceiling as though he listened for some explanation. After a second, he said, “That boy, Mate Oswald, beat me up and left me for dead. He injected methanol into me, and it caused me to go blind.”

  Geoff’s mouth had fallen open. “Who the hell is Mate Oswald?”

  “He worked for us. Don’t you remember?” Louie had never believed that Geoff had Alzheimer’s disease. He probably thought if he ignored it, then it wasn’t happening.

  Geoff screwed up his features. The skin was already loose, and now he looked like an old apple. “I don’t know anyone named Mate. I remember Alfie.”

  “Mate killed Alfie and Reg Ashbury, too.” He waved his hand in a circle. “He nearly killed these two.”

  Her father sat straighter and stared at Delia. “What?”

  “I haven’t had the chance to catch you up on everything, Dad. We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Yeah,” Louie shouted. “Talk about it later because I want to tell you something, Geoff. The Tipsy Louie is going down. So many people are gone. We can’t fill orders.”

  Eddie rubbed his hand up and down his face hard. “I told you in the car that I can help you with that, Louie.”

  “How?” Delia asked. She’d never learned what Eddie did for a living.

  “I’m a headhunter.”

  Delia blinked at him. I knew it. No one believed me that Eddie’s a killer, despite my obvious rightness. “Headhunter?”

  “Recruiter,” he said, waving off the explanation. “I place people in the right jobs. Louie needs a secretary and a lead factory worker. I could be your recruiter for the time being. No charge,” he said, leaning against the dresser and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I could have you up and running in no time.”

  “Wait,” Delia said. “Where are Courtney and Isaac?”

  Louie set his jaw. “They left. And, I can handle this. I’m the one who started the company.”

  Eddie stared straight ahead as if he’d heard this before.

  Louie had a similar look on his face. “Geoff, what do we do?”

  “I’m not there anymore, Louie. I don’t have access to the books.”

  “Delia will bring them to you.”

  “If I have time,” Delia inserted. “I no longer work for you, Louie.”

  “I’d need access to the computer files,” Geoff said. “I don’t know how many orders are out there, how much stock we have…”

  “Delia can run a report,” Louie said.

  She threw up her hands in defeat.

&n
bsp; Her father noticed. His eyes found hers. Then he said to Louie, “You need to ask Delia to do your bidding, old man. She is not your slave girl.”

  She sat straighter on the bed. Even when her dad had been completely healthy, he never stood up for her the way he did now. Tears pricked the edges of her eyes.

  Louie’s chin dropped to his chest. “We need help, Geoff. Our business is falling apart.”

  “It’s not Delia’s fault.”

  “I’m just frustrated,” Louie admitted. “I can’t see what’s going on. I need help, but no one will help me. Alfie and Mate are gone. Courtney and Isaac left a couple of days ago. You’re gone. I’m gone…”

  “Sell it,” Geoff said.

  Delia’s head jerked around.

  Louie’s head snapped up. “Sell?”

  “Are the stocks up? Get our money.”

  “Your money?” Eddie asked. “Are you a part-owner?” He gazed at Delia.

  She nodded. “They went in together to start Tipsy Louie’s.”

  He nodded and then went back to staring out the window.

  “You might be right, Geoff,” Louie said. He tilted his head. “Hey, Eddie. Do you want to buy Tipsy Louie’s?”

  Eddie didn’t even turn his head. “Absolutely not.”

  Driving home, Delia thought about Eddie again. She would have thought he’d jump at the chance to own the Tipsy Louie. After all, he’d wanted to work there at one time. She supposed he’d moved on. She gazed in the rearview mirror. Eddie’s car was still behind Sweaty Freddy.

  It bugged her the way he’d said, ‘absolutely not,’ as though it’d made him angry that Louie would offer such a thing.

  Headhunter Eddie.

  She wondered if he owned a company or if he worked for someone. Eddie seemed as though he had money. But, if he did, why did he live at Boroughbridge House? It was no high-end living complex. Also, why had he tried to work for Louie back in January?

  She rechecked her rearview. Delia was a little surprised Eddie hadn’t passed her in the fast lane, but he probably remained at a lower speed for Louie’s sake.

  The black Mustang was no longer in the mirror.

  There it was, it was on the exit road…

  Why are they going to Tipsy Louie’s?

  Had Louie decided to stop after all? Why would he? Louie said he didn’t trust Eddie.

  Delia changed lanes and took the next exit, only to get back on and head north again. She’d see for herself what was going on.

  She took the Virginia Avenue exit and then made a left onto Seventh Street. Then, she drove slowly into the alley behind the former Victorian home that now housed the wildly successful brewery.

  There were no other cars in the small parking lot. Without Courtney and Isaac to run things, the brewery was closed up tight. None of the other workers would know what orders to fill, and they probably didn’t have keys to get in either.

  Delia decided to park behind the garage. She got out of Freddy and slipped around the side of the building. The place still smelled of hops.

  There was Eddie’s car parked near the back door of the house. The wheelchair was still in the trunk; it was halfway sticking out. How had Louie gotten into the place? Delia supposed Eddie led him inside.

  Climbing the stoop to the back door, Delia listened a moment. No sounds came from inside. Turning the handle, she stepped into the kitchen. The room, like every room in the old house, had tall ceilings and plenty of windows. It held only the bare necessities since it was for employee use only. There was a white gas stove off to one side, a counter for prepping lunch, and a refrigerator.

  To her left was a swinging door leading to the living room, now a front office and reception area. Delia peeked through the door on the right.

  There was no one in the room, so she tiptoed toward the stairway. It was looking pretty barren, office-wise, with Courtney’s desk cleared. There was another room to the right, one that was the advertising clerk’s office. Papers had been scattered here and there.

  Suddenly there was a noise on the stairway.

  Delia glanced that way and saw two sets of feet descending. Darting across the room, she pressed her back against a closet door.

  It took them a long time to get down the steps.

  Louie said, “I think it’s right to sell.”

  “I don’t understand you. You want to sell when I have an outstanding offer to help you?” Eddie said.

  “No!” Louie shouted. “I’m going to sell, and then I’m going to die.”

  Delia raised her brows.

  Eddie asked, “You’re going to kill yourself. Is that what you’re saying?”

  There wasn’t a lot of compassion in his voice.

  Stick to headhunting, Eddie. You’d make a lousy hostage negotiator.

  He continued, “I won’t let you die, Louie. Not yet.”

  “I will if I want,” Louie shouted.

  Eddie was silent the rest of the way down the stairs. They got to the bottom and turned toward the kitchen.

  They’re going to see me!

  Delia held her breath and closed her eyes.

  They moved on, in a painfully slow manner.

  Delia released her breath a little at a time and peeked through her lashes.

  Eddie pushed on the swinging doors and led Louie through them.

  She tiptoed forward.

  Eddie said, “I need the code to set the alarm.”

  “I’m not giving you the code. I’ll set it myself!”

  “You’re going to set it off…”

  “Then leave it,” Louie shouted. “Just lock the door.”

  The door slammed shut.

  Delia hurried to the window and peeked out the curtain.

  Eddie pulled open the passenger side door for Louie. Then he moved around the back of the car.

  Delia let the curtain fall. She’d set the alarm before she left.

  Eddie might try to come back. I don’t know why he would, but he might.

  She waited until Eddie pulled away, and then she moved into the kitchen again. She pressed the numbers on the keypad and then went through the door.

  A high-pitched beeping came from the alarm.

  Delia’s stomach dropped. Turning, she stepped back inside and hit the buttons again.

  It kept beeping. Actually, it sounded louder.

  She pushed 1988 again —nothing.

  Why isn’t it working?

  The phone on Courtney’s desk rang. It had to be the alarm company.

  Delia ran for it. Before the operator said anything, she blurted out, “I accidentally set off the alarm.”

  A woman on the other end of the line asked, “What is the security password?”

  Security password?

  “Um, I’m not sure. I’m Delia Leary.”

  “I don’t have a Delia Leary on my list. Please hold.”

  Are you kidding?

  Delia hung up the phone and ran for the door.

  Wait! I gave them my name… Why didn’t I just make a run for it in the first place?

  She tried to center herself by standing still, closing her eyes, and conjuring the smell of the Cheery Cherry Ice Cream Shop.

  Everything is going to be okay. I’ll explain what happened to the officers when they arrive…

  Sitting in the back of the police car, Delia pulled her cell phone from her hip pocket and dialed Thomi’s cell phone. The answering machine picked up.

  So, she texted Detective Montague: Hey, I’m being arrested because I set the alarm incorrectly at the Tipsy Louie. LOL.

  She watched the display for a moment, willing him to see the text.

  He did, the little icon lit up.

  Nothing. Nicolo wasn’t going to respond.

  Fear tickled the inside of her stomach, and she sat back hard in the seat. Tears filled the corners of her eyes. I’m a jailbird. The Da Vincis will fire me. I’m not going to make Juliet’s wedding cake. Clawdius!! Clawdius will live with Titus. He likes Titus better anywa
y.

  I wonder which work farm I will be assigned to?

  Her cell phone rang. She stared at it.

  Nicolo!

  “Hello? Nicolo? I’m going to jail. I’m going to have to wear vertical stripes, and I already have body image issues.”

  “Delia? Stop crying.”

  “Stop crying? How can you even suggest such a thing?”

  “I got a hold of Thomasina Edgar, and she said you’re allowed on the premises. She spoke to her father. The officer will be right back and get you out of the car.”

  “It smells like German Shepherd in here. And saliva. Dog food saliva.”

  “That’s not a canine unit, Delia. It doesn’t smell like a German Shepherd.”

  “Then it smells like Hitler and saliva.”

  He cleared his throat. “Delia?”

  “I have to go. Here comes the officer.”

  * * *

  It was after seven when Delia pulled into the gravel parking lot at home. Her emotions had settled, aided by the ice cream she’d bought on the way. She promised herself that she’d only eat one bowlful tonight.

  She opened the front door and stepped inside. Noise on the stairway caused her to look that direction.

  There were Thomi and Eddie. They just stood there as though they’d been waiting for her. Thomi said, “I saw you pull in.” She was dressed in holey jeans and a flowery blouse with a knit sweater over the top. “What were you doing at the Tipsy Louie?”

  “Louie asked me earlier to stop by and pull some reports.”

  All true. Give me a Bible to put my hand on.

  “I didn’t know you still had a key.”

  Delia glanced at Eddie. He was still in his black sweater and gray pants. Mr. Abercrombie and Fitch with his unblinking eyes and flat abs.

  Eat some ice cream, Eddie.

  She said, “Weirdly, the door was open.”

  “It was open?”

  Eddie said, “We were there, Louie and I.”

  Thomi frowned. “You were there at the same time?”

  “Were we?” Delia asked Eddie, attempting to channel Meryl Streep into her performance. “When I left, I tried to set the alarm but got the wrong number.” She gazed at Eddie. “You must’ve already left.”