Eyes of a Stanger

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  Kacey Murphy, the art director for their team, rolled her eyes. “Well, guess you should be grateful you aren’t the art director or the copywriter. Just design what we tell you. We didn’t taste the cereal.”

  “I did,” Shanna said, “and I liked it.”

  Sean looked at her aghast. “You have got to be kidding.”

  Shanna smiled. “Must be a woman thing. It’s been proven that men don’t have good taste, and besides, women are the ones buying the cereal.”

  “So let’s see what you’ve got,” Tawnia inserted, forestalling whatever Sean had been about to retort.

  Kacey opened a folder. “Here’s their rough design—completely unappealing, of course—but it gave me an idea of what they want.”

  “At least their design matches the taste,” Sean mumbled. “Sorry,” he added when he saw Tawnia look at him reproachfully.

  “So I thought,” Kacey continued, “if we change the background color, spiff up the image with a cute kid, nix that ugly logo, and put something like this . . .” She pulled out another piece of paper sporting a detailed swirl with the name of the company inside.

  “Nice,” Shanna said.

  “It’s too girly,” Sean protested.

  Kacey put her hands on her hips. “And what’s wrong with that?”

  Tawnia understood what he was saying. The design was fluid and beautiful, but it would be better used for advertising a feminine hygiene product, which was kind of amusing, given Kacey’s appearance. With her stocky height and close-cropped dark hair, she wasn’t the picture of femininity like the blonde, curvaceous Shanna. Even Kacey’s clothing—a black suit—was reminiscent of a man.

  Tawnia knew it was time to take control of her team. “It’s a great design, Kacey, though I’m not sure it’s right for a cereal. I want to see two other designs. And another from you, Sean, since you seem to know so much about it.”

  He groaned. “It’s going to be hard when it tastes so gross.”

  “You aren’t paid to taste their stuff, just market it. I want preliminary drawings by tomorrow morning. Nothing as fancy or detailed as Kacey has here until we decide on one. But not too masculine, either, because Shanna’s right when she said women are buying the cereal. Shanna, what have you got for copy?”

  “Nothing solid yet.”

  “By the end of the day I want to see a rough draft. We’re meeting with them in two days.”

  “Any suggestions?” Shanna looked around at them.

  Sean grinned. “Eat this cereal, and death won’t seem so bad.”

  “Something about helping you wake up in the morning,” Kacey said. “Energy. People like that.”

  “It would wake me up, that’s for sure.” Sean pulled down a foot from the spare chair. “And that gives me an idea for a design.” He started tapping on his laptop.

  “Wait, did you fix the T-shirt design?” Shanna asked. “I think Tawnia and Kacey have a meeting with them today.”

  “What was wrong with it?” Kacey demanded with a touch of panic.

  “He spelled imagine wrong, if you can imagine it.”

  Tawnia smiled at the pun. The logo for the T-shirts was Imagine It and Soar.

  “Let’s see it,” Kacey said. Sean showed everyone the revised designs, and Tawnia was impressed.

  “Good work, you guys. That design is really excellent.”

  Kacey smiled. “Wait till you see the commercial. They have that in production now. I’ll bring it to you before our meeting with them.”

  Tawnia was grateful for her support. Kacey would be vital until Tawnia made her own connections with their clients. “The book guy wants to see his new dust jacket and hear the radio ads as well,” Tawnia said. “I’ve scheduled to meet with him tomorrow.”

  “Be careful with that guy,” Sean warned. “He’ll have you going for our CEO’s job.”

  Tawnia laughed. “Not a chance. I like it right here. I think we’ll make a good team. But about what Shanna said—that women buy most of the cereal. That’s true with books, too, even if they’re meant for men. So is there anything we can add to the book jacket that will catch a woman’s eye as well? I mean, I know he’s talking about getting rich, but . . .”

  “A nice house.” Shanna leaned over Sean and clicked on the cover file. “Right now we have only those dollar bills against the white, but there’s not a woman alive who wouldn’t stop and look at a really nice house twice. Maybe something with a turret. It could go in the background.”

  “I like it.” Tawnia looked around and saw that everyone was in agreement.

  “Sean and I will fiddle with it a bit,” Kacey said.

  “Good. Meanwhile, we have been assigned a new account, which I’m pitching on Friday. A small computer firm who wants a new logo and radio ads. Low budget stuff, really, but I expect our best work on this.” Even if the computer account didn’t turn out to be a big one, Tawnia never discounted the chance that a large company might be impressed enough with her work to ask for her particularly. She had made a vow to treat every account as though it was worth millions.

  “I’ve put copies of their request and their current marketing attempts in your boxes.” Tawnia continued. “I was hoping to convince our computer client to do a direct marketing coupon as well, but we’ll see. By tomorrow two of our current accounts should be wrapped up, and we’ll hit this new one hard then or by Thursday morning at the very latest. Thank you, everyone.”

  Tawnia arose before adding. “Could I see you a minute in my office, Shanna?”

  Shanna came to her feet, moving languidly like a contented cat. Today she was wearing white pants topped with a fitted pink short-sleeved jacket over a white shirt. Tawnia herself always avoided white because she always managed to spill on it, but Shanna obviously didn’t have such fears.

  “I made a few suggestions for the blurb on the dust jacket of the book,” Tawnia said as she walked with Shanna. “I’d like to see what you think.”

  Shanna arched a brow. “This author’s very particular about his blurbs. Sometimes I have to give in to him. Quite a change from most people, who let me do what I want.”

  Tawnia handed her a marked copy. “I think moving this sentence to the end concludes everything with a better focus. And that makes the old last sentence redundant.”

  “Finally, someone who can spell redundant,” Shanna said with a sigh. “I like it. And I think he will, too. He is good at admitting when he’s wrong. Too bad he’s married.” She sighed, but she didn’t look unhappy. Tawnia felt it might be more of a warning for her to stay away for her own good. Well, she had no intention of pursuing any of her clients, so Shanna didn’t need to worry.

  Shanna walked toward the door, proof in hand, but she turned around before she had gone halfway. “I heard what happened this morning.”

  “Oh?”

  “You went to eat with Dustin last night, and suddenly he has ideas for a new account.” Shanna snorted delicately. “No one who knows him believes that. Those were your ideas, weren’t they?”

  Apparently around here gossip traveled faster than light.

  “Why’d you want that project anyway?” Shanna asked. “We’re already booked with nearly as much as we can handle.”

  “I know. I was going to do a lot of it myself.”

  “Well, I wish I’d known. I would have told you to avoid Dustin. He always does this.”

  “Steals ideas?”

  She nodded. “He doesn’t have a creative bone in his body, though somehow he’s convinced upper management that he does. Usually, though, he just steals ideas from the graphic artists or from some of the co-eds at the local college where he teaches a class once a week. Everyone ends up really hating him. Too bad he’s so cute. Most of the younger set here is hung up on him. And his female students worship him.”

  “Not you?”

  She smiled. “Not anymore. I did go out with him, but he’s not smart enough to hold my attention.”

  “Good for you.”

 
; She walked the rest of the way to the door, swaying becomingly in her high heels. “We’ll get him next time. I’d pit our team’s ideas against his team’s anytime.”

  “Thanks.” Tawnia felt slightly better. At least she wasn’t Dustin’s only dupe, and she wouldn’t be facing him without backup.

  That was when the phone rang. She looked at the caller ID as Shanna left, expecting her parents, but it was Bret. A tremor of . . . something rolled through her. Fear? Eagerness? Need? She didn’t care to examine her feelings close enough to know.

  What did he want?

  Well, she couldn’t talk with him now. She was already a mess from the incident with Dustin, and she had a ton of work to get through before her meetings today. If he left a message, she’d call him back. She focused on her computer screen for all of ten seconds. “Oh, who am I kidding?” She grabbed the phone. “Hello?” But he’d already hung up, and there was no message.

  She dialed his number quickly, but his voice mail picked up. He was probably on the phone.

  This was working up to be one lousy day. Good thing she’d stopped this morning to buy donuts. She’d bought a dozen for her staff meeting and had forgotten to take them from her drawer.

  Hooking a finger inside a chocolate iced donut, she opened a file and went to work.

  Chapter 7

  Bret’s engineering tools were missing. Robert had placed them under lock and key, but they were gone all the same. “Probably got mixed up with the company tools,” Robert said. “I’ll put out the word. Meanwhile, you can borrow the company’s. What do you need?”

  “I want to measure the stress the metal sustained, and I’ll need to add in the weight and wind factor of everything.” Bret tried not to be worried about his equipment. He’d spent years paying for some of it because he liked having the best at his fingertips.

  Robert began jotting down a list of equipment. “I’ve got the necessary tools for any new testing you want. We have the top of the line. Better than anything the size you could carry in that toolbox, big as it was. And I have all the readouts of all the regular testing we’ve done.”

  “I would like to look at those tests.” Bret rubbed his jaw. “It still doesn’t make sense that the bridge would collapse like that, even if that boat—” He broke off. The boat. He’d completely forgotten about it after finding Autumn.

  Autumn. How weird that she looked so much like Tawnia. Or was his mind just filling in the blanks? It had been months since he’d seen Tawnia. Months that felt like years.

  Wouldn’t she want to know he was in town? Even casual acquaintances often called each other in similar situations. Taking out his phone, he pushed the speed dial set up for her number. Within seconds it was ringing.

  “Hi. You’ve reached Tawnia. Sorry I can’t answer. Leave a message.”

  He hung up. Even her voice sounded like Autumn’s, except it also contained the perky cheeriness that was all Tawnia. Then again Autumn hadn’t much to be cheery about. Tawnia’s voice had made a lump of something settle in the pit of his stomach. What? Remorse?

  Well, the ball was in her court. The phone had actually rung this time, so she would see him on her caller ID and return the call. If she wanted to. Meanwhile, he wanted to talk to that fireman. His number was here somewhere.

  “This is Orion,” came a voice.

  “Bret Winn calling. We met yesterday. I took Tawn—Autumn to the doctor.”

  “How is she?”

  “Broken arm.”

  “I knew it.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. She’s pretty stubborn.”

  “Sometimes women don’t act as if they have a lot of sense.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s been through a shock. No word on her father?”

  “None.”

  “I didn’t think so. I probably would have heard here. I’m down at the county getting some things before heading to the river.” Bret paused. “Look, you were there from the beginning. Did you actually see the collapse?”

  “No. I was driving by, like I told you before. Saw the debris in the air and hurried over.”

  “You had a boat with you?”

  “A canoe. Just happened to be on my trailer. I’d had it out the day before, and I was taking it back to where I store it.”

  “That was fortunate.”

  “Are you insinuating something?”

  Bret hadn’t been, but why was the man so defensive? “Not at all. Autumn says you saved a lot of people, including her.”

  “Not enough.”

  “No one could help the tragedy.”

  “The county could have, if they’d just maintain their bridges. This is all their fault.” The fireman’s voice rang with certainty.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “The bridge collapsed, didn’t it? It shouldn’t have done that. But it’s not the first time they’ve had problems. There have been suicides off the bridge, failures in the lifting mechanism, and I’m sure a lot more the public doesn’t know about.”

  “I read about the lifting failures, but that didn’t do more than cause temporary traffic jams. As for the suicides—”

  “Look, you asked me what I thought. I told you. But I’d rather you not use my name on any reports. I’m employed by the city, and all government is connected.”

  “I’m really just trying to get a feel for what happened. I won’t be using any names. But did you notice anything strange when you arrived on the scene?”

  “You mean other than dozens of people in the water and most of the bridge being gone?”

  Bret ignored the sarcasm. “Naturally, there would have been that, but I meant any strange people around. Anyone not helping. Or people leaving the scene.”

  “If there was anything like that, I didn’t notice. I just wanted to get those people out.” Orion’s voice was gravelly now, filled with emotion. Bret decided not to push. Not yet. He didn’t really have anything to go on—except a general feeling that something at the bridge wasn’t adding up.

  “Well, if you think of anything, let me know.”

  “Are they calling in the Feds?”

  “Actually, yes. Local authorities are working with the FBI to rule out terrorism. But so far no one has taken responsibility for the act.”

  “Then it was the boat. It’s the county’s fault, just as I said. And I hope they pay.”

  On that rather bitter note, Bret hung up. It was time for another visit to the bridge—or what remained of it.

  • • •

  Bret’s entire body was sore. He had checked and rechecked each piece of information at his fingertips. The old reports, the new tests—everything. He’d examined more of the standing part of the bridge and looked at the girders from water level. He used the county’s equipment to test stress levels of the metal debris. At one point he’d even helped pull concrete and metal pieces from the river. Nothing pointed to foul play. Sure, there had been stress fractures, but they hadn’t enlarged over the years and shouldn’t have contributed to anything of this magnitude. His final evaluation would have to be that the county had fulfilled its duty to the residents of Portland. He had found nothing to refute that claim.

  He still had several more days until he had to give an official opinion. Those days might shed more light on the collapse, as more debris was salvaged from the water, but he didn’t think they would. This was just one of those tragic freak accidents that would be remembered for decades to come.

  Being at the bridge site all day meant he’d also been there when the Navy Seals found two more bodies. Only five missing now, one of them Autumn’s father. More cars were being pulled from the muddied waters. None of them was Autumn’s.

  She was at the river again, wearing the same jeans and gray sweatshirt as before. She stood, a small tragic figure looking out over the water. A black man with dreadlocks came to stand beside her in the early evening, the thick, snake-like strands of his hair looking oddly out of place among the hard hats worn by all the other men. Bret couldn’t
hear what they were saying, but it looked like an argument. The man kept motioning with his hand, and she would shake her head. Finally he left her there.

  Bret admired her determination. She was a lot like Tawnia in that, too. No wonder the two were confused in his mind.

  Beyond where Autumn stood he could see the boat with its top sheared off. He wanted to look at it but not with the shadow that had been following him all day.

  “Robert,” he called to the shorter man. Robert’s freckled face had burned in the sun, despite his hat, making his normally ruddy complexion even more red. He looked hot and uncomfortable.

  “Yeah?”

  “I think it’s time we knocked off. It’s been a rough day.”

  Robert nodded. “You want to get a beer?”

  Bret shook his head. “I need to talk to that girl again.”

  “I see.” Robert gave him a knowing smile.

  “Just want to make sure she’s okay.”

  “A guy with a hero complex.”

  “She reminds me of someone I know.”

  “Your sister?”

  “No. My sister’s tough as nails. This girl isn’t.” But even as he said it, he remembered a time when his sister, Liana, hadn’t been tough. When they had cried together after Christian had died. He’d promised then to be the big brother she needed, and he had been, except that she was married now and expecting a baby. She didn’t need him as much these days.

  “So, you coming out again tomorrow?” Robert asked.

  “Yeah. I don’t expect to find much more, but you know the drill. I’ve got to go through the motions. There are large sections still under the water.”

  “Hey, I don’t mind. They’re paying me overtime for anything extra I do while you’re here, and I can tell you, they don’t do that much.” With his hand, Robert indicated the others around them. “These guys are doing shift work and getting paid crap. The county could care less as long as the job gets done.”

  “The county doesn’t pay well?”

  “What government job does? I mean, unless you’re near the top. That’s where the bucks are.” He shrugged. “Frankly, I’ve been meaning to leave for a private firm, and this cements it. I don’t like being blamed for something that ain’t my fault. This bridge was safe. I’d stake my life on it. But look at it now.”