by Gilian Baker
Her head shot up above her monitor as if I’d just broadcasted my thoughts in her direction. “Hey, Jade! Sheryl said you wanted to see me. Come on over and have a seat. I’m almost finished with this. Just let me save it.”
I walked over and had a seat on yet another uncomfortable chair. This one was uneven and rocked to the left whenever I moved a muscle. Maybe the town needed to have a major bake sale to buy more comfortable seats for the sheriff’s office. The people who came here were in the mist of tragedy and the last thing they should have to face was a rickety chair that made their butt hurt.
I was enjoying the scene in my mind’s eye of Ross wearing a frilly apron while standing behind a long table on the sheriff station lawn hawking baked goods the ladies of Aspen Falls had made when Crystal stood up like a shot and announced she was all mine. She sure had a lot of energy. But I guess that comes from being so young.
“So, how can I help?” She put her hands on her hips. Our very own Peter Pan.
“A couple of things. I assume you know I’m investigating with Gabrielle Langdon, Liz Collins’ attorney…”
“Oh, sure. I even met Gabby the other day.”
“Well, since I was coming by she asked if I’d pick up the photocopies of the journal I found at Connie’s home. And, we need someone from the department to take us over to the crime scene so we can look around.”
“Oh, sure. I can do that. The sheriff has a lot going on right now, as you can imagine. So why don’t I take you over there sometime? You just let me know when you want to go, and we will fit it in.”
She got up and started moving to another part of the open floor plan all in one motion. “The journal sheets are over here.”
I got up and followed her at a slower pace. The stress of the day seemed to have taken it out of me, and her energy was making me feel old.
“Hey, while you’re here…” On guard, Crystal looked around. “I wanted to ask you if you recognized this.” From under the beat up metal printer table she pulled a leather-bound ledger. “Does this look like the books you found in the bedside table in the victim’s house?”
I pulled it out of her hand with more force than I’d meant to and flipped through the pages. It was one of the ledgers I’d found in Connie’s bedside table. “Where’d you get this?” I asked in a whisper matching hers.
She looked embarrassed. “I found it shoved in the back of Doug’s desk, kind of wedged between the drawers.” She looked at me with a solemn face. You know I replaced Doug on the case, right?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Well, I was told these had all been sent to Cheyenne to be examined by the forensic accounting team. But this one clearly didn’t make the same journey. Doug must have overlooked it when he gathered them up to send.”
“ So the wrath of Ross isn’t over for Doug then. Th ey shouldn ’t have been shoved in his desk. They should have been locked up with the other evidence until they were shipped . So the wrath of Ross isn’t over for Doug then. He’s going to have a fit when he sees this. Though, in all honesty, if they have the others, there’s probably not much lost. To me they all looked like the same thing—just some kind of code.” I shrugged and handed the ledger back to her.
“Well… that’s just it. I think I figured out what all this it is.”
“You’re kidding! What is it?”
“Well, I’m not a pro or anything, but I’ve always had an unhealthy obsession with cryptography.” She looked down and flipped through the pages. “This looks like a date shift cypher.”
I looked around again and didn’t see Doug at his desk, which mean t s he could ’ve been anywhere. The last thing we wanted was for him to sneak up to overhear us.
“Okay, without geeking out, tell me what you think this says.”
“It looks like a list of names, dates and amounts. There are also notes in the front that sound like secrets that haven’t been kept so secret.” She looked me square in the eye. “These are a list of people she Connie ha d s been blackmailing.”
Chapter Twelve
“What?” When my voice carried in the open space, I covered my mouth. All we needed was to have Sheryl the busybody come over to see what skullduggery was afoot.
“Yeah, that’s what it is, though the experts haven’t confirmed it. Heck, the case will probably be solved before we hear anything back from them. They’re so overwhelmed with work, being the biggest lab in the state.”
“Have you told Ross yet?”
“Nope, haven’t had a chance. I found it last night before I left, and he’d gone by the time I got in this morning. I worked it out this morning.”
“Jeez, how long did that take?”
“Oh, not that long. I used her birthdate as the cipher and got lucky on the first try.” She kept her eyes on Doug’s new desk in the corner. “I hate to have to tell Ross about this, but I guess I’m gonna have to. Doug doesn’t need any more trouble. I mean, he and I do have to work together, and as you can imagine, we didn’t exactly start out as best pals since I took his position from him.”
I patted her on the shoulder. “That’s not your fault. It was Doug’s mismanagement of his position that got him stuck in that corner. Don’t underperform just because a colleague isn’t up to the task.”
She smiled at me. “Yeah. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard that, but it still feels like I’m ratting someone out.”
Crystal was just another reminder you can’t judge a book by its cover. She was smart and compassionate, all wrapped up in a Barbie doll body. Life just isn’t fair sometimes. But Ross had gotten lucky with her. He could use someone that smart and capable in the department, especially now.
“Would you write down some of the details from the code for me?”
“Well, I’m sure we’ll be able to, but I need to confirm this with Ross.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Umm… I hope, you know, you won’t tell anyone about this yet, Jade. I could lose my job telling you before Ross. I was excited, and since you were here…”
“No, don’t worry, Crystal. I’ll make sure none of this gets out. You can trust me.”
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she blew out the breath, ruffling her bangs. “Whew. Thanks, Jade. I know we only met, but I trust you.”
“Okay, well, I’ll get out of your hair if I can get those journal pages.”
Crystal blinked a few times, did a little jump and then giggled. “Oh, sure.” She handed me the folder of pages. “Just call me when you decide when you want to go see the crime scene.” She pulled out one of her cards. “I wrote in my direct line.”
“Thanks, Crystal. I will. It’ll be within the next few days, if that works with your schedule.”
“Oh, sure. We’ll make it work.”
And with that, I was out the door. I even somehow escaped Sheryl’s attention.
***
On the short drive back home, I made a deal with myself. Once I’d called Phyllis and checked in on Geena’s notes to see if she had questions, I’d sit down and read the journal pages. But only once I got those things done. I’d forgotten all about Phyllis and I’d been leaving too much to chance with the business. I needed to get my act together, so I could be away from the office for the next while.
Before starting my work, I went to our bedroom and put on some comfy clothes. I wasn’t used to wearing hose and high heels all day anymore, and I couldn’t wait to get them off. As I peeled down my hose, I felt exhaustion overtake me. After putting on my favorite pair of yoga pants and one of Christian’s big t-shirts, I stretched out on our bed. Awww… it felt great to be out of uncomfortable clothes and stretched out.
Any moment, I told myself, I’d swivel around and call Phyllis. I had her number already in my cell phone, and all I needed to do was reach over far enough to grab it. It would be a short conversation. I only needed to…
I awoke with a start, and with an unattractive small pool of droll on the comforter where I’d passed out
and slept hard. My mouth was dry and my eyes were scratchy. After clearing my throat, I reached out for my cell phone. I’d slept for an hour. Shoot! I went into the master bedroom to get a big drink of water. I came back, sat down on the bed and hit autodial on Phyllis’ number. As I listened to the chirping of the ringing phone, I cleared my throat again, hoping it wouldn’t sound as rusty as it felt.
I’d almost given up when she answered.
“Hi Phyllis! It’s Jade Blackwell. Remember, your partner in crime?”
“Of course I remember! How are you? What’s going on with the case?”
A woman after my own heart—getting right down to the details of the mystery. I filled her in, realizing how much had happened since the fateful day we’d gone into Connie’s house as I laid it out for her.
“That poor woman. But lucky you. You get to play a real detective and be the hero who breaks the case. I’m jealous.”
“Well, if we’d not gone into Connie’s house, I might not need to play the hero.” I explained how the journal I’d found taken had been the final straw in the case against Liz. We chatted on, and I asked if she’d be available in the next few days for us to come around for a visit.
“Oh, sure. I’ve been out all I’m gonna be this week, until Sunday morning when I go to church. Whenever you come to Connie’s will be fine. Just send me a text before you leave Aspen Falls, if you don’t mind.” She chuckled. “My granddaughter Mattie just set up texting on my smart phone, so I need practice with someone who won’t laugh at me if I mess up.”
What a pip! I laughed in response, delighted that this lady was enjoying life so much, even though she had little left. “Sure. And, since you’re a modern woman, I’ll text you details about the case as they come up. That’ll be easier for me to do in between work and everything.”
We agreed and then signed off. She was so sweet. I couldn’t believe Gabby thought she might have something to do with Connie’s death. Well, we’d fix that soon enough, I thought as I walked down the stairs to pull a frozen casserole from the freezer. I popped it in the oven, set the timer and then ran back upstairs to check in on A Writerz Block before Christian came home.
Either the impromptu nap or the chat with Phyllis had done me a world of good. I felt refreshed and got right down to work.
After supper I curled up with the journal pages on our bed. It was a real eye-opener into Crazy Connie’s psyche. I felt justified calling her that in my mind again after reading what she’d written. It was clear now why these pages had incriminated Liz. Even though the source was skewed, if you didn’t know the whole situation, it would sound like Liz was the culprit.
Connie had been effective at making Liz sound like the irrational one. But I assumed that people with her condition were great at that: “Look at me. I’m the coherent one. I’m the victim here.” She used the words “attack” and “abuse” a lot. Ross hadn’t been exaggerating when he said this was the smoking gun, so to speak. Having this in his possession and no other suspects, what else could he have done but arrest Liz?
I fell asleep thinking about how blackmail might fit into the picture and if knowing Connie was a blackmailer could help us find her real murderer.
***
The next morning I rose early and got a jump on the work that had piled up over the last few days. I went into our project management system and added a bunch of other tasks for Geena. There were a few new things I was adding to her plate, so I took the time to come up with Standard Operating Procedures and detailed instructions. She’d text me if she had questions.
I looked through the client requests she’d sent, accepting a couple, but asked her to send our standard “Thanks, but no thanks” response to the others.
It was such a relief to be at a place where I could accept or decline work, based on my interests and client expectations. I’d learned the clues to watch for that suggested a client would be a nightmare, though they slipped through the cracks now and again. When I’d first started out, I’d taken on anyone who asked me because I needed the income, and honestly, I’d wondered if I’d made a serious mistake leaving academia. Transitioning from academia to business owner had been tough on my ego.
I sat staring out the window for a few minutes, thinking about my need for more writers. Now I was more established, I didn’t need to work as much as I did—a hard habit to break. I’d always worked long hours grading papers, attending endless meetings and preparing for class lectures. But now I didn’t need to. This business with Liz made me realize I needed to reconsider my business strategy. The thought of being CEO instead of drudge was enough to make me giddy.
I shook my head. Enough woolgathering. I needed to finish this eBook for a client. Yet the image of what it’d be like to work less and play more nagged at me until I said the heck with it. I stopped writing midsentence and opened a new task in our project management system. I jotted off a quick note to Geena to hand over the rest of the work I’d started to some of our more talented contract writers. With a flourish, I attached several documents and hit ‘enter.’ With a smile on my face, I took a deep breath and felt my shoulders relax.
Feeling more at ease than I had in weeks, I opened another task box requesting Geena contact our contract writers to offer them regular ghostwriting gigs on A Writerz Block. After including a list of topics I wanted covered, I saved the task and shut down the program. Why shouldn’t I take advantages of my own services?
Empowered and refreshed from delegating, I ate a quick tuna salad sandwich, washing it down with a glass of iced tea while looking over my interview notes for Connie’s employer. The head honcho’s name was Charles Gallagher. He was the managing attorney and the son of the founder of the firm. Connie had been his executive assistant for several years, ever since his father had retired and left him in charge. They had seven other attorneys there and offered diverse services, though much of it was civil and contract law. It sounded about as exciting as watching paint dry, but then again, not everyone gets as excited as I do about analyzing obscure literary text either. With that thought, I put my notes back in my briefcase and got ready for my first solo interviews.
I regretted scarfing down the sandwich as I drove to Chesterton on autopilot. Butterflies were wreaking havoc with my digestion and my lunch felt stuck in my throat. No matter how much iced tea I drank, my mouth still felt dry. A long forty-five minutes later I arrived at the offices of Gallagher and Gallagher, attorneys at law, nauseous and jumpy.
The building was the most impressive one I’d seen in the small, run-down town. It made me wonder why they’d stayed here instead of moving their offices to a more upscale location. But I guess I should have just been glad they had stayed. Many services aren’t available to those of us who live in rural Wyoming.
I gathered up my briefcase and then stood up straight and took a big breath. Pulling my five foot five frame up as tall as possible, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. I could do this. Another deep, cleansing breath and I was ready.
The young woman at the reception desk checked my appointment and handed me a visitor’s badge with a jaded smile. In a monotone voice, she informed me Mr. Gallagher would be with me in a moment. Having done her duty, she swiveled her chair away from me and resumed texting. A perfect example of why I was glad to be out of the classroom.
I sat on a faux leather couch and practiced relaxing each muscle group. Still waiting for Mr. Gallagher, I closed my eyes and visualize myself a calm and confident professional. I was getting into it when I heard my name spoken in a deep masculine voice. My eyes flew open and I jumped. Looking up, I saw a broad-shouldered man in a double-breasted charcoal gray suit looking down at me. Nothing like making a good first impression.
He glanced at the Rolodex on his wrist and then held out his hand. “Hello, Ms. Blackwell. I’m Charles Gallagher. Follow me, please.”
As my short legs tried to keep pace, I thanked him for taking the time to meet with me.
“Well, we’re eager to
get this situation settled, Ms. Blackwell.”
Once in his office, he sat on the edge of his desk chair while I took a moment to get set up to take notes. “We understand that Ms. Payne worked for you for several years. We’d like to get a first-hand account of her work life. Did you ever have reason to reprimand her? Did she have coworkers she didn’t get along with? You understand that we represent Liz Collins, the woman who is being held on suspicion of her murder. So what we need is any information you might have that could give us other avenues of inquiries.”
He crossed his arms in front of this chest. “Yes, I understand all that. Though I don’t see how I might be of further help. And I’ve already discussed this with the sheriff’s department… at length.”
“We understand and appreciate your willingness to run through it again with us. It must be a terrible disruption to you and your staff.”
Being called on his rudeness, his tone changed. “Yes, well. We must do what we can for such a longtime employee.” He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “I have her file here.” He flipped through the folder in front of him. “There’s never been a reprimand in all her years of service, either from my father or from me. Always on time, always willing to stay late when needed, always offered outstanding quality of work.”
I raised my eyebrows and looked him in the eye. “Really?”
Closing the file, he took a deep breath, slumping down in his chair. “Uh. Well, I must admit I always felt ill-at-ease around her. But since there was nothing in her work performance I could consider subpar, I kept her on.”
“Didn’t you realize you were uncomfortable around her before your father left? Why didn’t you pawn her off on someone else when you took over?”