Searching for Harpies

by Charlie Vogel

  I stood, clearing my throat. “Before I go, I do believe I have every right to the answer of one more question. Why did you decide to lay off Ms. Saint in lieu of someone with less experience?”

  Her jaw clamped as she looked down at the folder and slammed it closed. She shoved her desk chair aside and turned back to the credenza drawer, scanned a moment then removed a dark gray folder. Flipping it open, she rummaged through it then held up a sheet with typewritten columns. “Correct me if I’m wrong about anything in this personnel file. Lori Saint has only a GED, which she received less than a year ago. No college degree. Interestingly she has no prior work experience, either, let alone credentials qualifying her for her job description. However, the four people remaining in her department have all those qualifications. Any further questions?” Again, her hand motioned to the door.

  I shook my head and turned to leave. Before the door closed behind me I heard the file drawer bang shut. Lori was correct. Priscilla Godfrey was the woman from hell. I decided not to mention the lay off to my friends on the board. At this point, Ms. Godfrey’s decision didn’t appear to have any loopholes. Until I more carefully read through the thick and very boring Bison Insurance company manual, I could not see the board shaking up the chain of command over one person’s lay-off. They would see it as my own favoritism. And they would be right.

  The bell dinged, the lit arrow pointed down, and the double doors of the elevator slid open. Pushing the button for the second floor, I stood next to an elderly man staring into an open file folder. He glanced up at me over the top of his reading glasses. I assumed he didn’t recognize me be cause he returned to his reading.

  Moments later, the door opened onto a wide hall lined with closed doors. I strode to the office at the end and pushed open the double glass doors.

  A pretty and petite blonde with that just-out-of-high-school look sat at the reception desk. She glanced away from her computer screen and smiled. “Hello, Mr. Norris. You’re in luck. Mr. Piston is in his office and you can go right in.”

  “Thank you, Shannon. You got bubble gum stuck between your teeth.”

  The smile disappeared as she yanked open a drawer and grabbed a mirror. An “Oh, you!” exclamation followed me into Harry’s office. When he first took over the Security Department, he had requested a receptionist-secretary, but rejected the woman sent by personnel. Instead he hired Shannon as a favor to Father Manning. Though I teased him about her naïveté and giggling, he reported she worked hard, rarely made mistakes and didn’t gossip, a valuable asset in Security.

  Harry turned from his computer. “Hi ya, Bob. What brings you here?”

  “Just happen to be in the building.”

  “You spend so much time here, why don’t you apply for a job?”

  “Not after talking to Priscilla Godfrey.”

  He leaned back in the swivel chair and scratched his head with his good hand. “Aha, you met Godzilla?”

  “What a bitch. How do you put up with her?”

  “I keep my distance and she keeps her nose out of my department. Why did you see her?”

  “I wanted to know why she fired Lori.”

  “That’s an easy one. Godfrey disliked Lori from Day One because she’s able to think on her own. So you know, I just hired Lori to work in Building Security. I, ah, put your name down as her reference on the app at Human Relations. I think she’ll like the job and will have no regrets of being out from under the Satan’s Bride.”

  Leaning back in the metal chair beside his desk, I drummed my fingers on the glass covering its wood surface. “And she’s not going to find out?”

  “No. I’m not going to tell her. My paperwork goes directly to Human Relations and Accounting. All Godfrey gets is my monthly activity summaries.”

  “She said she had to downsize her departments because of new budget tightening. Is that true?”

  “I didn’t get that memo. More like she threw out the people she didn’t like. How long will that work with your big people on the board, huh? You watch, she’ll rewrite reports and hire replacements she prefers by the end of the year.”

  “She can’t do that, can she?”

  “She can if the board doesn’t call her on it. By the time anyone does, those she fired will have pocketed the unemployment checks or found another job. They won’t want to come back to Bison after her treatment.”

  “Between you and me, I want you to keep an eye on that bitch. Watch for anything like unfair labor practices that could be reported to the Labor Department.”

  “Which means tracking what she does that might conflict with the company’s Standard Operating Procedures.” He thumbed back at a thick binder on the bookshelf behind him.

  I groaned. “Better you than me reading that boring shit. And knowing it is in your job description, not mine. Have you heard anything about Father Manning?”

  “No. Did you ever get a hold of your cop friend, Roy?”

  “He never called back. I talked to a police captain this morning who said Roy’s out of town. The D.E.A. sent him to a two month training school.”

  Harry stared hard. He didn’t even blink. “So how are you going to get the priest out of this shit?”

  “What makes you think I’m going to get involved?”

  “Because Lori told me.”

  “You and Lori always seem to be talking behind my back.” He didn’t flinch. “Do you think Father Manning killed Penny?”

  “I don’t know, and I’m not taking time off work to find out. The police must have enough evidence on him, otherwise he wouldn’t be sitting in jail.”

  “Penny’s funeral is tomorrow. You going?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Is Ann going?”

  “Of course not.”

  * * *

  The Table is Reserved sign had been mounted in an eight by ten plastic frame. For the past year, it had stood in the center of the far corner table. The table seemed to be inconspicuous to most of the patrons at the Tickle Pink Bar and Grill. The cute, well-built waitress Pam had decided the sign would keep the table available for her paperwork and for her special customers namely Harry, Lori, and me. Pam especially liked that we never failed to comment on her hair color of the month. In fact, as soon as we walked in the door, she stopped whatever she was doing and poured whatever drinks we called out. Not that we drank a lot, but the money I donated to remodel the bar influenced the owner to keep us happy.

  That evening I sat staring at the pitcher of beer next to our table’s sign. Two empty glasses waited before two empty chairs. I licked the foam from my lips then looked at my watch. Just as I glanced at the door, Harry and Lori walked in. Right on time. As if taking assigned seats, Harry settled to my left facing the door while Lori took her place to my right, just under the western scene reproduction hanging on the wall above us.

  Harry bent his artificial arm at the elbow and rested his plastic hand on the table then pushed his glass toward me to do the honors. I filled the glasses, then had to refill Lori’s after she emptied the first pour in two gulps.

  Setting the pitcher down, I studied her. “Rough day?”

  “Being in that goddamn guard shack all day bored the shit out of me. No offense Harry, but I have to be doing something.”

  Harry smiled. “I wanted to put you inside, but I know you. You would be up there harassing the shit out of Godzilla. Can’t you stay in the lot for another week to cool down?”

  “In this heat? Come on! Please, Harry. Give me something else to do or I’ll go fucking nuts.”

  I cleared my throat. “Lori, I’ve been thinking. I could use someone.”

  She grunted then tongued the foam on her beer. “Bob, you don’t work. You clean your own home, you do your own cooking and you drive your own car. What the hell would you need me for?”

  I quickly ad-libbed, “Several people on the Ashland Steel Board of Directors thought I should hire a body guard. Do you want the job?”

  “Shit, you’re sudd
enly listening to them? How often do you carry the cell phone they bought you? And, why a body guard, especially me?”

  “They’re a bunch of worriers who think I’m important or something. And maybe I really need you, you know, so I can get them off my back. I’ve seen you use that martial arts stuff. You’re qualified.”

  She looked around me at Harry who was concentrating very hard on his beer. “How much you paying?”

  “We can negotiate. When can you start?”

  “I may have to give notice on my job.” Harry only shrugged. “Well, not tonight. I have a date.”

  My stomach dropped. “What-what?”

  She stared into my eyes for a long moment. “I met a guy in the parking lot. We talked. He asked me out.” She checked her wristwatch. “I have to be home by seven. He’s picking me up at eight.”

  “But-but, Lori, I─I thought . . .” My mind raced for words. I wanted to ask how or why but instead calmly asked, “Is he a nice person?”

  Now, she studied her beer. “Well, yeah, I suppose. Seemed to be.” Her head snapped around. “He ain’t a john, if that’s what you’re thinking. I ain’t taking money and may not even take him to bed. This is a real date.” She drew herself up with determined pride. “A real date is something I’ve wanted since I got suspended from the eighth grade.”

  Harry nudged me and whispered, “Say something, asshole.”

  “Lori, let’s go somewhere. To talk. We need to talk.”

  “Are you finally asking me out?”

  “Well, kinda.” Harry nudged me harder. “I want to take you—”

  Lori perked right up. “To dinner and the theater?”

  “Ah, yes. That would work.”

  “Tonight?”

  “You have a date.”

  “I lied. I just wanted to see what you would do.”

  All I could do was blink.

  Harry chuckled then cleared his throat. “Don’t look now, Bob, but I think your friend Roy just popped in.”

  Long dark hair straggled down the man’s back. The sleeves to his plaid shirt had been rolled to his elbows. From my first time meeting him, I knew the oversized denim vest concealed the .50 Magnum Desert Eagle strapped into a shoulder holster. He took the chair next to Lori and smiled. “How you been, Bob?”

  Before I could answer Pam set a glass of cheap Scotch and water before him. As she leaned forward to wipe a beer spill, her large, halter-top-contained breasts hung like udders, almost bumping the Reserved sign. I quickly erased the thought of immortalizing her on canvas and turned to Roy. “I’ve been fine. I wanted to get a hold of you. Someone told me you were in Kansas City.” We knew he was a cop, but as an undercover, he didn’t like it advertised.

  “My two months were done today. The boss man told me you wanted to see me.”

  Lori slouched back in her chair as if pouting. I hadn’t told her what I wanted of Roy. She was just going to have to wait to have me by the balls for our night out.

  “You know I will never be able to thank you enough for helping us couple of years ago, ah, when my father-in-law drowned.”

  Roy took a sip of his drink. “You mean when you killed him.”

  “Declared self-defense.’

  “I heard some of the judges are still debating that. You didn’t just want to thank me again did you?”

  “No. What do you know about Fr. Manning being jailed for murder?”

  Lori sat up and Harry tapped his fingers on his beer glass. Roy looked from face to face. He sat forward and lowered his voice. “All I know is the DNA on a semen sample matched the priest’s blood. Those lab results just came in this morning. It looks pretty clear that it’ll prove he’s guilty of murder.” He stared at me. “Is the priest a friend?”

  “Yes, to all of us.” Lori jumped in. “I can’t believe he would kill anybody. He has always been a gentle man with a kind heart.”

  When she threw herself back, lips pursed and eyes glistening with sudden tears, Harry spoke up. “I’ve known Father Manning for a couple of years. I agree with Lori. Could there be a mistake in the DNA?”

  “No. It’s better than fingerprints. He will appear in court tomorrow morning and the judge will send him to District. All of you can be there if you want.”

  “No can do, Roy,” I said. .”We have a funeral. It was Lori’s friend who was murdered.”

  Roy looked hard at her. “You knew Penny?”

  Back under control, she gave one quick nod, her now cold eyes narrowing. “I only like you because you’re a friend of Bob’s. Back when I worked the streets, the goddamn cops pissed me off on a regular basis, harassing us every time we turned around, even when we weren’t turning tricks. In the past couple of years I became a regular citizen. Paid my taxes and even took care of a damn warrant. I finished my probation clean. I probably haven’t been the best citizen this city has, but I’ve been goddamn solid and honest.”

  Roy leaned back and sipped his Scotch. “Why do I need to know that?”

  “That judgmental look you gave me, the one fucking cops are so famous for.” Lori glanced around the table and apparently decided everyone was still paying attention. “This past week I wanted to piss on everyone I talked to at that fucking police station. I can’t believe they held Penny’s body for ten days. I took five thousand from my savings to buy a coffin and a plot of ground. I had to arrange the whole goddamn funeral. Those bastards in the detective bureau wouldn’t tell me shit until yesterday. You know what hell I went through to get everything arranged? You’re all a bunch of bastards.” She jumped to her feet and tore a napkin from the dispenser. Holding it to her eyes, she hurried to the lady’s room.

  All three of us watched the door close behind her. I looked at Harry. “You didn’t let her take time off?”

  “I tried to force her, but she kept coming to work.”

  Roy finished his drink, “For being an ex-hooker, she cries pretty hard.”

  Before Harry could say something he shouldn’t, I responded, “I’m probably the cause of most of that.”

  Harry mumbled, “You can say that again.”

  I divided the last of the beer into his glass and mine. As Roy lit a cigarette, I asked, “What would I need to do to visit Father Manning?”

  “You might be able to get on the visitor’s list once he’s locked up at the state pen.”

  “You mean I can’t see him now?”

  “The odds are against it. Unless you’re immediate family, clergy or a lawyer. Why would you want to see him?”

  “It may be a waste of time, but since I know Father Manning isn’t a murderer, I wanted to ask a few questions, maybe get a lead on the real suspect.”

  Roy shook his head. “Are you planning to play cop again?”

  “Of course not. I’m just really worried about him. Although the police may have investigated thoroughly, I believe he’s the wrong man. If I can help prove his innocence, I’m sure my time and insights can help in some way. I just want to be another set of eyes and ears.”

  “Bob, I was told by some of the guys at the station that a witness saw him leaving Penny’s apartment. Put that with the DNA and it’s a solid case for the D.A.”

  “Who is this witness?”

  “Sorry, I can’t give out that information.”

  Harry squeezed my arm. “Let’s forget it for now, Bob.”

  “Bullshit. I’m going to find the man who actually killed Penny.”

  Harry’s grip tightened to the point of pain. “I said drop it for now.”

  * * *

  I held the restaurant’s glass door open for the lovely lady dressed in a shimmering evening gown that had my heart beat racing. My white tuxedo was slightly off color to the silver white shades of her ankle length, strapless dress. The slit up the side made my eyes water and my mind flood with impure thoughts. I wanted to ask her what kept the top from falling, but I decided to wait until I started the logs burning in the fireplace at home later.

  We walked arm in arm around th
e long line of waiting and now watching people. Paolo, the host, stood at the podium. He bowed. “Welcome to Merrill’s, Mr. Norris. We have your table ready.”

  “Thank you, Paolo.”

  “The usual wine, sir? We do have an excellent California, it’s a before-dinner dry Cabernet.”

  “That will be fine.”

  “And the lady, sir?”

  “We’ll share the bottle.”

  “She looks . . . so young?”

  Lori snickered.

  “I assure you, she’s old enough.”

  The waiter pulled the chair out and gently slipped it under her slender hips. I took the seat across from her. Lori smiled. “How in hell did you get reservations here, and why haven’t you ever taken me here before?”

  After Paolo placed the menus in front of us, he waved to a busboy to bring water glasses. I smiled across my menu at her. “I never made reservations. The management has my picture, name, and social status stapled to a board in the security office. The camera picked us up outside and security buzzed the headwaiter. I have dinner here once a month to keep my table reserved.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Sometimes with business associates. Why?”

  “I’ve always been available . . . or is the Tickle Pink the best you can do when it comes to me?”

  I waited as a waiter poured our water then the wine. Another plated our just tossed salads from the cart beside our table then slid them in front of each of us. “Please, Lori; I know I’ve been taking you for granted, I guess. I wish now I had listened. How about tonight we just enjoy our meal and just take one thing at a time.”