MarvelousCon & Tax Cons

by Rachel Ford

  “You’re no help,” Nance would sigh when he conveyed something of this. “How am I supposed to get a schedule together?”

  “We could just wing it,” he offered.

  “Then we’ll miss something.”

  “What a shame that would be.”

  The schedule was still unresolved when the workweek began. “But at least we’re closer,” she confided Monday morning.

  “Good. I don’t know if I could survive too much more of this suspense,” he teased.

  She grinned. “Don’t worry. We still have to sort out backup sessions. You know, in case our first choices are full.”

  Alfred just groaned.

  Monday did bring two bits of good news, though. Both came via texts from Josh Stevenson, and both were received with more enthusiasm from Nancy than Alfred. The first was that Josh’s car was finally finished.

  “Great.” The taxman rolled his eyes. “Now that that thing’s more souped up, he’ll drive like even more of a maniac.”

  The second was a follow up from the interview. “He got the job!”

  Alfred didn’t hear this as excitedly as she did, though. How, he wondered, would this impact the marine’s plans to guard Nancy? “When does he start?”

  “Two weeks.”

  The taxman frowned. He hadn’t thought of the case over the weekend – at least, he’d made a conscious effort not to, since there wasn’t much he could do about it until he was back at the office. But this gave him a deadline. It meant he had to have it wrapped up before Josh’s new gig started.

  “Hey,” she continued, “we should stop and get my car tonight, after work.”

  He nodded. “Okay. But…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, you don’t have to use it, you know. I’m kind of liking this carpooling.”

  She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Me too, Mr. Favero. Me too.”

  Alfred was in his office before Justin Lyon, and he took the opportunity to shut the door. Texting Nancy a picture of his closed door, he said, “My plan to get some actual work done this morning. Hopefully that’s hint enough for you-know-who.”

  She wrote back, “He casts ‘ward off wanker’ and rolls a twenty.”

  He didn’t fully understand the reference, but he got the gist anyway, and smiled at Nance’s wit. Then, he turned in earnest to his work.

  He brought up the directory with the audit files. He stared at them for a space. But he didn’t dare open them. He knew what happened when he did that; the version of himself that had visited Josh made that clear.

  So what the heck am I supposed to do? he wondered.

  An hour and a half passed in fruitless contemplation. Then, his phone dinged with a text from Nance. “Hey, meet me in the breakroom.”

  It didn’t come a moment too soon. He was in desperate need of distraction. Since he had no idea what he was actually headed to the breakroom for, though, he grabbed his coffee mug, opened his door, and was on his way.

  He ignored the “Freddie?” that followed him from Justin’s office. In fact, it gave haste to his steps.

  Nance was there by the coffee machines, and she grinned as he approached. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  She held up her phone, a screen with text and a progress bar displayed. He scrutinized the words. It was a delivery progress report.

  “Uh…what is that?”

  “Your uniform! Look: it’s arriving early.”

  “Oh.” The revelation certainly didn’t justify her level of excitement, but there was nonetheless something infectious to her good mood. He felt the annoyance of the morning and its fruitless contemplations slipping away. “That’s good.”

  “Yeah. It means we’ve got an extra day, in case I need to make any adjustments.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want to rush those,” he teased.

  “No, we wouldn’t.” She moved a little closer. “We-”

  “Morning Freddie.”

  Nancy grimaced, and Alfred turned to see Justin ambling into the breakroom. “Morning Justin,” he sighed.

  “Morning Nance.”

  “Morning Justin.”

  “We must be on the same wavelength today.” He laughed in a deliberate fashion, holding up his coffee mug. “Great minds and all that.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I am bushed.” He laughed again, and it was even more forced this time. “I need a weekend to recover from the weekend.”

  “Yeah, it’s crazy how quickly they disappear,” Nance deadpanned.

  “Isn’t that the truth?” he sighed.

  “Well,” Alfred said, “I should probably-”

  But Justin was not about to let him escape yet. “Stacey and I stayed out way too late – I mean, way too late – last night. Now I’m paying for it. Not that I’m complaining, of course.” He grinned. “But, damn, I’m feeling it today.”

  “Well,” the taxman offered, “age catches up to us all, I guess.”

  The comment elicited a frown from one of his companions and a smirk from the other. But Justin was quick on his feet. “You two will have to have lunch with us sometime, Freddie. You and Nance. You’ll like Stacey – both of you will.”

  “Yeah, sounds great,” Nancy said. Alfred murmured agreement, though it sounded awful to him. Spending time with Justin would be punishment enough, but with him and someone insane enough to date him?

  “We met in college, you know. She was a freshman when I was graduating. She was dating someone else then. We both were. But I remember what an authentic kind of person she was, you know?”

  “She sounds great,” Nancy smiled.

  “She is. She’s one of those real-women types. You know, really in touch with her feminine side. Very traditional.”

  “That’s awesome. I better get back to my work, though.”

  “Don’t forget your coffee before you go, Nance,” Justin said, gesturing to her empty cup.

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  “You can always tell when a woman embraces her feminine side. She takes pride in herself.”

  Nancy’s eyebrows, Alfred could see, were climbing up her forehead so fast he was afraid she might lose them to her curls in a minute. “Well, we should get going.”

  “She just looks the part, you know?” Justin, now, cast a critical eye over Nancy, letting his gaze linger in a pointed way on her jeans and “NASA” t-shirt. “Of course, part of that, I suppose, is probably attributable to outside factors. A woman who has someone worth looking good for will take the time to put in the effort.”

  “You didn’t tell me Stacey was deaf,” Alfred said.

  Justin scrunched up his face, confused. “Deaf? What? She’s not deaf.”

  “Oh. I just assumed. I mean, after listening to you for just a few minutes, I can’t imagine someone listening to you for an entire date and agreeing to a second.”

  Confusion made way for a scowl. Nancy, though, smiled, and that was his goal. “Come on, Nance,” he said. “Let’s get back to work.”

  Chapter Nine

  After a few text exchanges with Nance, mostly questioning the existence of Justin’s date – and sanity, if she existed – Alfred returned his attention to his work. He right-clicked on the file in question, and brought up the revision history. That, at least, he decided, should be safe.

  He saw Nancy’s name and a handful of others, none of whom were familiar. He’d jotted the usernames down, and then turned to the employee directory, when his messenger app flashed.

  It was Director Caspersen. “Alfred?”

  “Morning,” he replied.

  “Morning. You got a minute?”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Can you come to my office? I need to talk to you.”

  The taxman frowned. That sounded ominous. But he typed back, “On my way.”

  He did as he said, and a few minutes later was standing in the director’s office. “Take a seat,” she said.

  H
e did, and fidgeted. Caspersen was fidgeting too, he saw. That worried him. So he mustered as confident a tone as he could, and asked, “What can I do for you, Director?”

  “Well,” she said, “I’ve got…well, this is kind of a sensitive one. The fact is…well, I’ve got a complaint about you.”

  “About me? From who?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that, Alfred. It’s confidential. But…I’m told that you and Nancy Abbot are engaging in ‘highly gratuitous and deeply unprofessional public displays of affection’.”

  The taxman blinked, stunned. “What?”

  Caspersen glanced at her screen, and read, “The, uh, complainant mentions ‘multiple instances of gratuitous public displays of affection, including but not limited to a make out session in the hall in front of my office.’”

  Alfred felt his cheeks coloring. “Justin,” he said.

  “I didn’t say that,” Caspersen evaded. “And it doesn’t matter who complained. They’re not the focus of this.”

  “No, ma’am, I understand that. But the accusation isn’t true.” He spread his hands. “We’ve been dating for almost six months. Have we ever been anything but professional?”

  She hesitated. “You could pay better attention in meetings. But otherwise, no, I haven’t witnessed anything like what’s described.”

  “Because we haven’t done it.”

  “Well, the email says otherwise.” Alfred was about to protest again, but Caspersen raised her hands. “All I’m saying is, be careful. I’m not taking any action or anything like that on this. I’m perfectly happy to let it go. But just make sure there’s no room for complaints moving forward.”

  He nodded, rage burning in his chest. “I understand.”

  “Good.”

  “I am concerned, though.”

  “Concerned?”

  “Yes, Director. Ever since Nance and I have been dating, Justin’s been on our case. On her case. I know he’s bitter about his divorce and his ex, but-”

  “Alfred, you know our workplace encourages an open, non-retaliatory environment. If someone complains, even if we don’t agree, we can’t-”

  “I know, Director Caspersen,” he interrupted. “It’s just…it keeps escalating. Last week, he was saying she’d cheat on me because ‘women are women.’”

  Caspersen’s eye twitched. “He said that?”

  Alfred nodded. “We’ve been trying to ignore it, because we know he’s got issues. But just this morning he was implying that Nancy wasn’t feminine enough, wasn’t a ‘real woman.’”

  Caspersen cringed. “These are troubling comments, Alfred.”

  “Yes.”

  “But they’re not related to this conversation. This conversation is about your behavior. As far as the comments you’re describing, you and Nancy should both file formal complaints with HR.”

  The taxman sighed and shook his head. “Understood. I’ll be careful, moving forward. But as far as Justin goes…he’s got issues, Director. I don’t want to add to them.”

  And, quite confident that he’d done exactly the opposite of his stated intentions, Alfred took his leave of his boss.

  He felt Justin’s eyes on him as he passed, but though the snake smirked, he didn’t have the temerity to call out to him. No sooner than had he got to his desk, did he text Nancy, informing her of everything that transpired.

  “That son-of-a-biscuit must have gone whining to Caspersen after our conversation,” he said.

  “After that speech about ‘real women,’ he turns us in for a kiss?” Nancy replied. “We need to go talk to HR. This is BS.”

  “I don’t know,” Alfred said, “I think I planted a seed in Caspersen’s mind.”

  “A seed?”

  “I mentioned his comments about ‘women being women.’ You should have seen her eye twitch.”

  “LOL! You sneak.”

  “Yup.”

  “I love it.”

  Their lunch break was spent in much the same way, divided between commiseration and plotting. They tossed around ideas about how to get even, and went back and forth on whether they should take immediate action or play the long game.

  His morning had been wasted, but, when he returned from lunch, Alfred vowed he’d genuinely put his mind to finding the murderer this time. And then, as soon as he returned to the employee directory, Nancy texted him.

  “Shit. I just got pinged by Caspersen. She wants to see me too.”

  For the next twenty-five minutes, Alfred waited anxiously for word from Nancy. When, at last, it came, he almost dropped his phone he was so eager to read what had transpired. “She asked me about Justin’s comments.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “The truth.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That she’d take care of it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  They didn’t have to wait long to find out the general gist of Caspersen’s plan of action. The ping of a new message sounded in Justin’s office a minute before Alfred heard footsteps heading down the hall toward the director’s office.

  “I think she just called him in for a chat.”

  Nancy sent a thumb’s up emoji. “Good.”

  Half an hour passed, then forty-five minutes. “Holy sugar cookies. He’s still not back.”

  “Wow. He’s either lying through his butt, or he’s really getting chewed out.”

  “Or both.”

  It was almost an hour after he’d answered his summons that the other man returned. Alfred wasn’t long left to guess how his chat with the boss had gone. The slam of Justin’s door, loud and emphatic in the stillness, was quite telling in its own right.

  Between texting back and forth with Nance as they discussed their speculation about Justin’s conversation with Caspersen, Alfred spent the rest of the afternoon working on his projects. The last thing he needed, he decided, was for Caspersen to hear that he was falling behind on his work. Not now that he was engaged in an office cold war.

  He was so enwrapped that he barely noticed when Justin cut out at two-thirty. He hadn’t even noticed that it was quitting time when Nance showed up. “You ready?”

  “Oh.” He glanced at the clock. “Guess so.”

  Justin was the subject of their conversation as they headed to Josh’s house, and Nancy told him in person what she’d laid out in text. Then, when they reached the marine’s place, she headed for her own car. “See you soon.”

  No sooner than had he got on the road when a call came in. It was Josh, and he engaged hands-free call mode. “Stevenson? What’s up?”

  “What’s up?” Josh sounded incredulous. “How’s the case going? Did you find the killer?”

  “Oh.” The taxman felt his cheeks flush. He’d been so wrapped up with revenge that he’d hardly thought about the case. “I’m, uh, still in the strategy phase.”

  “You mean, you haven’t done anything?”

  “Kind of.”

  “What are you waiting for, Favero? Nance’s in danger here.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just…I don’t know what to do. If I look at the file, I get her killed. If she looks at the file, she gets killed.”

  “Well, you’ve got to get whatever info’s in there without looking at the file.”

  Alfred sighed. “If only it was that easy.”

  “I’m not saying it’s easy, taxman. But what else can you do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

  “Good.”

  Chapter Ten

  The costume fitting went well, at least from Nance’s perspective. Alfred thought he looked remarkably silly in the blue shirt with its wavy gold trim and dark pants with their flared bell legs. But she said he looked perfect. “Hey,” she suggested, “we should try your full makeup and ears.”

  “We should?”

  “Well, yeah. I’ve done it on myself, but never anyone else.
Plus, you’ve got a completely different facial structure. I should practice at least once.”

  Grumbling internally, aloud he acquiesced. She was, he found with not much surprise, very good. His face was transformed from the familiar expressions he knew into a pretty good facsimile of the Star Trek character. “I won’t touch the eyebrows today,” she told him, much to his relief. “I’m happy with our proof of concept.”

  Then, she took out her phone and took a few pictures. “You’re not putting those online?” he wondered.

  “Well…yeah. You look great.”

  “Oh Nance,” he sighed. “I’m never going to live this down.”

  They agreed to see the alien program that Josh had found after dinner. While Alfred cleaned off his makeup, Nance worked on the meal. The taxman wasn’t sure if it was just because he was starving – they’d spent a remarkably long time on his face – or if it was really as good as it smelled, but his mouth positively watered as he came into the kitchen. “Mmm. That smells amazing.”

  “It’s stir fry.” She grinned. “Nothing too gourmet, I’m afraid. Just frozen vegetables and frozen chicken strips.”

  “No soy sauce, I hope?”

  Her grin broadened. “Of course not. We wouldn’t want to upset your tummy, now would we?”

  He grinned too. “I’m surprised you remembered that, actually.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t even remember us talking about it.”

  “We did. A few months ago, when we were getting takeout. You said soy sauce always made you feel sick.”

  “Oh.” He grabbed plates, considering her words as he did so. He considered the way she always remembered his exact coffee order, and the million and one other little details she attended to that he so often took for granted. “You know, I’m a hell of lucky guy, Nance.”

  She smiled at him. “Maybe. But you know something, Mr. Favero? I’m not doing so bad myself.”

  The next morning, Alfred turned his full attention, as he’d promised the marine, to the case. Or, nearly full. He did vaguely notice that Justin wasn’t in his office. He did pause his work long enough to glance at the other man’s schedule as nine o’clock rolled around and he was still absent – it read “out with a migraine” – and he allowed himself to text Nancy a, “Guess whose out with a migraine today?”