The Art of Eavesdropping

by Christy Barritt

  “Still not ringing any bells.” Nada. None. Zilch.

  “Oh, that’s right, you also don’t watch TV.” He made a gun with his finger, pointed it at me, and fired. “Jono’s father is undoubtably one of the wealthiest men on the East Coast. He works up in DC, but the family has a house here in Storm River. That’s where Jono stays most of the time. Him and all his dates.”

  “Sounds like he has quite the reputation here in town.” And like there was no love lost between the men.

  Michael laughed. “Yeah, you could say that. There are lots of stories around town about Jono.”

  My curiosity peaked. “Like what?”

  “I’ll have to let you figure those out yourself. It will be more fun for you that way.” A grin tugged at his lips. “One more mystery that you can solve.”

  “I’m sure the man can’t be that interesting,” I said.

  Michael raised his eyebrows. “You might just be surprised.”

  Before we could talk anymore, the tow truck pulled up.

  Chapter Ten

  Michael dropped me back at my house so I wouldn’t have to ride the bus again. That was a blessing. He’d also looked at my car for me and reconnected the spark plug wire again so I’d be able to drive to the apartment complex tonight.

  He was turning out to be a lifesaver.

  That was the one positive I could see in this somewhat sticky situation I’d gotten myself into.

  As I walked into my house, I glanced at my watch and saw that I had only thirty minutes until I needed to meet the rest of the cleaning ladies. It didn’t give me much time to get changed. Thankfully, my mom and my sister weren’t home so I didn’t have to explain everything to them.

  I did have just enough time to do a little more research before I left, though.

  On my computer, I quickly looked into Sarah Vance as well as any of Flash’s competitors who might want to put him out of commission.

  On the Sarah Vance front, I hadn’t found anything to indicate she’d been the target all along and Flash was just an innocent bystander. And, as far as Flash’s competitors, none of them had stood out either.

  At least I could mark those two research items off my list.

  As soon as I got into my car and took off toward the apartment building, my phone rang. It was Oscar. Again. Yay for me.

  I didn’t want to answer, but I remembered all the rules that Velma had given me. The man may not take too kindly to me ignoring him.

  I waited until I got to a stoplight and put the phone on speaker. Unfortunately, my car was too old for Bluetooth.

  Putting on my most cheerful voice, I answered. “Hello, Oscar. How are you today?”

  “Elliott,” he barked. “I wanted to call and remind you of how important this task is today.”

  I resisted an eye roll. “Yes, I know.”

  “You need to find out something or Flash is going to be in prison for the rest of his life. No pressure, but there’s a lot of pressure.”

  “I’m going to do my best.”

  “Your best may not be good enough. I thought I’d hired the right girl for this task. But you’re going to need to prove that to me.”

  “I understand.”

  “Let me give you a little bit of advice, Dora,” Oscar continued. “Look like you’re clueless. And, if you have to lie, make sure there’s some truth in that lie. Got it?”

  “I really hate lying.” I frowned as I stared out my window.

  “Then you’re in the wrong line of work.” He let out a deep chuckle. “I guess we’re going to find out, huh?”

  Part of me wanted to tell him I was going to quit. That I was the wrong person for this job.

  Then I remembered his challenge. I didn’t want anyone to tell me that I couldn’t do something. I could get information tonight. I was capable.

  A new determination rose inside me as I put my car into Park.

  It was time to get down to business.

  I lifted up a quick prayer. At the end of the day, I reminded myself, I had to live with myself. I couldn’t do anything that went against my conscience. But in this job, that line seemed broken and quickly fading.

  Two hours into the job, I finished cleaning the lobby. Then I’d moved into a resource room full of supplies like pens, pads of paper, and staplers.

  Now I needed to hit the detective bureau area.

  I wasn’t mopping today. Apparently, that wasn’t a daily thing. Today, I was simply running the vacuum and collecting trash.

  I’d already run into Mr. Extroverted Cop Bradford. Our supposed language barrier hadn’t stopped him from blathering on and on to me again. He’d chatted about the weather and patrol duty and what he was doing when his shift ended.

  I remembered that Oscar had told me I needed to get close to people. But I also wasn’t supposed to speak English. It seemed like a contradiction. And even if language wasn’t a barrier, I didn’t want to use anyone so I could get ahead.

  Finally, I finished working in this area and glanced at the spot where Detective Hunter’s desk was located.

  Three people worked here tonight, and most seemed preoccupied with their cases. I hadn’t seen Detective Hunter yet. I didn’t know much about the man, what cases he was really working, but something about the man caught my imagination.

  I wondered about his life outside of work. About the woman whose picture I’d seen on his desk. If he was really an awful detective as Oscar Driscoll had said he was.

  But right now, I really just needed to revel in the fact that Dylan Hunter wasn’t here.

  With a broom in one hand, I wandered closer to his desk. My gaze stopped on the photo there. The one of him with the pretty blonde. They looked so happy together.

  I remembered feeling happy like that.

  Emotion squeezed my heart.

  I missed those days. I missed feeling the excitement of physical attraction. Of looking into Sergio’s gaze and seeing the affection there. Of the anticipation of our future together.

  It was the small things that got to me the most, though. Cooking together. Taking walks. Talking about our days.

  But, right now, I needed to be focused.

  I glanced around and confirmed that nobody was looking at me.

  This was my opening.

  Despite that, my heart pounded out of control. Was this the right thing?

  If it allowed an innocent man to be cleared, then yes. I could see how my actions might be justified.

  But if it compromised a police investigation, then that was an entirely different story.

  My hands were sweaty as I reached forward. I made sure to stand with my back toward the door so my body blocked what I was doing.

  There once was a girl that got caught. Her actions made her fraught. But she pushed on ahead, just like her boss said, and hoped she found what she sought.

  With trembling hands, I pulled the file labeled VANCE from its holder on the desk.

  Carefully, I flipped it open.

  I was sweating so badly I feared a drop might fall from my forehead and onto the papers. DNA evidence.

  However, they didn’t check police files for DNA evidence. I knew this.

  Right?

  My anxiety caused me to not think clearly.

  Dear Lord, I desperately want to ask You to help me. But I can’t. It just doesn’t feel right.

  And that should be my first sign that I shouldn’t be doing this.

  I glanced down. I’d always had a good memory, and I hoped that my ability to retain facts didn’t fail me now.

  I scanned the text there, but most of it didn’t make sense. Part of it was handwritten, and the scribble was so bad that it was hard to read anything.

  I saw the words “Bernard Sutherland.”

  Who was he?

  A few other phrases caught my eye. “Threatened caddy.” “Short temper.” “Loose cannon.”

  It sounded like the guy had given a statement on Flash’s character.

  “Can I help yo
u?” a deep voice said behind me.

  I gasped and turned around.

  Dylan Hunter stood there staring at me.

  I’d been caught.

  Chapter Eleven

  I pushed a hair behind my ear and flashed a nervous smile. “Hola, señor.”

  As I said the words, I turned, gently pushing the file back toward the holder where I’d found it.

  “You’re the same cleaner who was here yesterday.” Detective Hunter narrowed his eyes as he studied me. “Can I help you?”

  I stared at him, trying to pretend like I didn’t understand a word he said. Then I said something in rapid-fire Spanish. “¿Quién hubiera adivinado que Capitán Americano vivía en Storm River?”

  Yep. I’d said, “Whoever would have guessed that Captain America lived in Storm River?”

  The sprint of words was becoming my go-to, as was avoiding eye contact and speaking nonsense.

  The detective stared at me and shook his head, clearly not a Spanish speaker.

  “You don’t need to worry about my area.” He pointed to his desk and shook his head. “No. . . . bueno. No . . . clean-o. Sweep-ese.”

  What did he think he was saying? Was this what was known as Spanglish?

  As I stared at him, trying to look clueless, Rosa bustled in from the other room. She took my arm and led me away, muttering, “Lo siento. Lo siento,” to Hunter.

  She was apologizing to him for whatever I’d done.

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw the detective staring at us from his desk as we left the room.

  Rosa must have seen the conversation from the other room. Her employment was on the line here, I realized.

  I wouldn’t ruin this for her.

  If I ruined this for Oscar, he’d fail a client.

  If I messed things up for Rosa, she could lose her livelihood.

  More pressure pushed on me until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  Did the detective suspect I’d been looking at the file? I had no idea.

  But suddenly I couldn’t wait for this shift to end. I needed to get out of here and wrestle with my conscience until I could figure out what choice I could live with.

  Almost as if Oscar was tracking my location, my phone rang as soon as I got back into my car after my shift was over. He wasn’t tracking my location, right?

  I shouldn’t even have to ask myself that question. But his timing was uncanny—especially considering the fact that work had ended early tonight. It was only ten.

  “Well?” he started.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror, remembering that feeling I’d had earlier that someone was watching me. The skin on my neck crawled for a moment. Was the watcher back?

  “Hola?” Oscar said. “Guten tag?”

  I snapped my attention back to the phone call. “I’m here.”

  “Well? Did you learn anything?”

  “I started to look into the folder, but the detective arrived before I could see much information.”

  Oscar muttered something under his breath before saying, “I told you that this is your opportunidad.”

  I remembered what Michael said about Oscar’s other assistants, and I knew I needed to be smart here. Should I tell him that I’d seen Bernard’s name? I wasn’t sure. I had no idea what the citation meant.

  What was worse? Telling him I hadn’t learned anything or telling him I’d learned something that might not mean much?

  I decided to remain quiet, mostly because I didn’t want to be scolded again. I simply needed to accept my failure. “I know you gave me a chance tonight, and I’m sorry I let you down.”

  “You need to go get your stuff from the office. Now.”

  The air left my lungs. “Tonight? It can’t wait until morning?”

  “No. You need to realize I’m a man of my word. I don’t play.”

  My dad had also taught me to stand up for myself, and this man was being ridiculous right now. “Tonight wasn’t my fault. I was trying to get the information when the detective came back. What was I supposed to do?”

  “I’m not sure, but anything different than what you actually did. Need I remind you, Jungle Girl, that I’m paying you for all of this? Do you think I have money to waste?”

  I flinched at his sharp words, but I still wasn’t ready to back down. “I can only do what I can do.”

  “You know what that sounds like? An excuse. I don’t want to see you in the morning. Am I clear?”

  The call abruptly ended, and my head dropped back against my seat.

  I couldn’t believe this. Couldn’t believe this job was over before it really even began—and now I had nothing.

  I still had bills to pay. My mom and sister were depending on me. How was I going to tell them I was out of work?

  I didn’t know. But I was going to have to figure something out.

  I didn’t want to be the reason my sister couldn’t get a new set of lungs.

  I should have thought about that before I took this job.

  I still felt the invisible weight pressing on my shoulders as I pulled up to the office building that I’d called mine for two whole days.

  I didn’t think I’d feel this disappointed about losing this job. Sure, I’d had a crisis of conscience over what I was doing. But, despite all of that, I liked to believe I was going to figure out a way to do things ethically somehow or another. I hadn’t even had that chance. Just as I was starting to learn the ropes, I’d been cut loose.

  Firing me hadn’t been a fair move, but there was nothing I could do about it.

  At the front door, I punched in an entry code I’d been given. But, as I opened the door, I heard something in the distance and froze.

  I glanced behind me but saw nothing.

  But I had definitely heard something.

  The skin on my neck prickled.

  I’d be a fool to ignore my instincts.

  Moving more quickly, I stepped inside the office and twisted the lock behind me. As I stepped away from the door, my breaths came easier. Maybe I’d be safe. At least for a moment.

  Right?

  I glanced around, looking for any signs of trouble hiding in the shadows here. I saw nothing. Heard nothing. Sensed nothing.

  But I still wanted to get done and get out of there. My nerves were frayed and ragged right now.

  I hadn’t brought many things into the office, but I did have a picture of my family, a stress-relief ball, and a little plaque my best friend in Yerba had given me that read, “Embrace the Adventure.” I wondered if Tahlia had any idea how those words were playing out right now.

  As I started back toward the front door, I turned and looked at the office space one last time.

  It seemed crazy that I was going to miss it so much. I didn’t realize I’d become attached so quickly. But there were too many unanswered questions here, questions that had aroused my curiosity.

  I hadn’t gotten to know Velma very well yet, but part of me was sad that I wouldn’t be able to get better acquainted with her. She seemed like the type that made life interesting. Why did she dumpster dive for food and work out at a sports equipment store?

  And Michael . . . he seemed to have so many layers to him. I wanted to know more about his daughter, and his daughter’s mom, and how he had gotten into this line of work.

  Then there was Oscar. I wasn’t really sure I wanted to get to know my former boss more. I wanted to believe that somewhere beneath all his insults was a good man who wanted to help people. Even though I had yet to see it, I hoped that trait was there.

  What about Flash? Was he guilty of killing Sarah Vance or not?

  Either way, the woman deserved justice. The internal pull to find answers was stronger than I’d ever anticipated.

  But all of those things were now part of my past. Maybe it was for the best.

  Truthfully, I should never have taken this job. I should have done something more expected of me like office work. Something boring but stable. Something that allowed me to live an
expected life.

  The strange thing was that part of me felt like there was a beast down inside me just waiting to emerge.

  With one last glance at the dim space, I opened the door and stepped outside. No sooner had I done that did a shadow appear on my right.

  Footsteps echoed on my left. I jerked my head toward the sound.

  Oscar.

  He walked this way.

  I swerved my head back toward the shadow.

  I sucked in a breath when I saw the gun protruding from the masked man’s hand.

  A gun that was aimed at Oscar.

  Oh no . . .

  I had to make a decision, and I had to make it quickly.

  Chapter Twelve

  My new boss might be the biggest jerk to ever walk the earth. Despite that, I knew what I needed to do.

  I lunged forward. My body collided with the masked man in front of me, and we both fell to the ground. The man’s gun skittered across the sidewalk.

  “Run!” I shouted to Oscar, glancing back at him. “Call the cops!”

  He froze for a moment. Then I heard his footsteps hurrying away.

  Realization washed over me.

  Now it was just me and the gunman.

  A dull throb played in my ears.

  What had I been thinking?

  Dear Lord . . . help me!

  The man was still beneath me. He wore a black mask that obscured his features. However, he smelled inebriated, and his eyes looked dazed.

  At once, he shoved me back. My arm hit the sidewalk, and pain shot through me.

  “You’re going to regret that,” the man growled as he popped to his feet.

  The next instant, he reached across the stretch of cement and grabbed his gun.

  My heart stuttered in my chest as time seemed to slow. Was he going to finish me off? And, if he did, what would that mean for my sister and mom? Who would help take care of Ruth?

  My dad’s face flashed through my mind. He’d be so disappointed with me. I knew how important it was to him that I help provide for the family, and I had failed. Maybe I should have thought this through instead of acting on instinct. Had there been another way I could have saved Oscar? It was too late to think about that now.