Knock Knock

by Debra Purdy Kong

A minute later, the employees’ door opened and the blonde Aussie appeared. Erin. Casey held her breath, praying the woman wouldn’t look this way. Without the disguise, she felt vulnerable, all too aware what this gang was capable of. Erin headed for the sidewalk, then disappeared from view. As Casey stepped out of the car, injured body parts twanged in protest. She had to see if Erin was meeting anyone. The lead could be huge, worth the risk. That was what she kept telling herself, what propelled her to follow the woman.

  Erin walked down the busy street in front of the building. Two blocks later, she stepped inside a café. Casey slowed her pace. She strolled past the café’s windows and glimpsed Erin sitting opposite a man in a booth. The man wore a ball cap and sunglasses. The collar on his leather jacket was turned up. Casey kept moving. If she could get a video of both Erin and the guy leaving the café, it might prove worthwhile.

  The covered bus stop across the street was the perfect place to wait. Casey crossed the intersection and plunked onto the bench. She pulled a notebook from her bag and jotted down the name of the café, the time, plus Erin’s first name.

  Her phone rang. The display screen showed Summer. Figured.

  “Hi, Summer.”

  “Where are you?” she blurted. “I thought you’d be back by now.”

  “Checking out physio clinics took longer than expected, but I’ll be home soon.” She hung up.

  Forty-fifty minutes later, Erin left the café with her lunch partner. While Casey recorded them on her phone, something about the man seemed familiar. As he removed his hat and wiped his brow, she gasped. Shit. What was Philippe Beauchamp doing there?

  SIXTEEN

  Casey couldn’t believe it. A security team member had just met with one of the prime suspects.

  At the intersection, Philippe said something to Erin, who smiled and nodded before crossing the road. Philippe strutted down a side street. Once he was out of view, Casey stopped recording.

  This didn’t prove he was the leak, but Philippe sure had some explaining to do. How long had he and Erin known each other, and how did he know about Erin’s connection to the gang? At least she assumed he did. Casey didn’t believe in these types of coincidences. Nor did she recall mentioning an Aussie accent at the meeting. Stan was the only one she’d told. Had he passed that along to Philippe, or was Philippe truly conspiring with the gang?

  Someone needed to do a more thorough background check on the guy. Time to call her computer-savvy friend. He loved digging up info on people. The more immediate issue was how and when Stan should be told. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. He’d want to know why she’d been at the rec center in the first place.

  Casey was massaging her temples when her phone rang. Lou again.

  “Hi,” she answered, forcing an upbeat tone. “I’m on my way home.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not doing anything risky, are you?”

  “No, I’m not the one taking risks.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Crap. She’d said too much. “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

  “Hmm,” he replied. “Are you in the Kerrisdale area, by any chance?”

  Uh-oh. “Yes.”

  “Damn it, Casey!”

  “Look, if I hadn’t been here, I wouldn’t have seen Philippe having lunch with a major suspect. He could be the frigging leak!”

  “Shit. Did he see you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She paused. “Pretty sure.”

  “Get out of there right now.”

  “That’s the plan. Gotta go.” She hung up, well aware that she’d probably face a lecture from both him and Stan, but the video she’d recorded would be worth it. Might as well call Stan and get that over with.

  He answered his phone with, “Why aren’t you resting?”

  “I have been, and I’m feeling good.” More or less. Fatigue was settling in again. “Did you authorize Philippe to speak to the rec center employee with the Australian accent?”

  “Hell no. Why?”

  Casey kept her answer brief and then listened to a few of Stan’s better curses. After he wound down she added, “The second I heard an Aussie accent from a blonde employee, I went back to the car. But when she left the center at lunchtime, I wondered if she might be meeting someone. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that it was Philippe.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Stan said. “You were at the rec center, but you didn’t actually see Philippe on the premises. He was in a café two blocks away?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the woman approached him?”

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t actually follow her inside. I just saw them sitting in the same booth when I walked past the window.”

  “Was the café crowded?”

  Casey strolled toward the center’s parking lot. “I think so.”

  “Philippe’s working down there today, so he could have simply stopped there for lunch. You can’t prove that it was an arranged meeting. Maybe they just shared a booth and struck up a conversation.”

  “My gut says it was more than that.” Casey hurried into the parking lot, listening to her supervisor’s loud sigh.

  “I’ll talk to Philippe,” he grumbled.

  Who would lie his ass off. “Do you want me to write a report?”

  “Casey, are you purposely trying to sabotage any chance of benefits?”

  “No.”

  “Then go home.” Stan hung up.

  . . .

  By the time Casey pulled up to her house, another headache had started. This one, along with the midday heat, was making her lightheaded and drowsy. These stupid headaches were supposed to be dissipating, weren’t they? She trudged across the lawn and up the steps. In the kitchen, Cheyenne greeted her with a tail wag before returning to her spot on the cool linoleum. Casey found a note from Summer saying that she’d gone to the store. At least she wasn’t pacing the room, waiting for her.

  The trek upstairs to the third floor took the last of Casey’s strength. She was sweating, and the mallet in her head was swinging back and forth with vicious delight. Thank god Lou wasn’t here to see this.

  Casey opened the door and found Lou on the sofa, beer in hand. He looked her up and down, but not in a good way. Bloody wonderful.

  “What are you doing home so early?” she asked.

  “The afternoon driver agreed to start a couple of hours early.”

  So Lou could check up on her? If she didn’t feel so lousy, she was certain they’d fight about it. At the moment, all she could muster was a little resentment.

  “You look awful,” he said.

  “Headache.”

  Casey headed for the bathroom, shut the door, and splashed her face with water. Bending over was excruciating. She popped a couple of pills, leaned on the sink a moment, then shuffled into the bedroom.

  “I think I know how you’re feeling, apart from the physical pain,” Lou said, following her. “Shut out, right? Everyone telling you what you can’t do.”

  “Yep.”

  She stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes. “Could you shut the blinds, please?”

  Lou did as she asked. “I know you desperately want to help catch the bastards who went after Elsie and Harold, but your health has to come first, Casey. Why won’t you accept that?”

  “Staying active and useful is a huge part of the healing process for me.”

  He looked at her a long time. Casey had no idea what he was thinking and she felt too awful to ask.

  “If you need to feel useful, then maybe we should go ahead with the wedding after all,” he said. “You could help Mom, and it will at least keep peace in the family.”

  Casey squinted at him. Not the response she’d anticipated, but she liked it. “Peace would be good.”

  “Maybe you and Summer should go dress shopping with Mom.”

  “Sure,” she murmured, closing her eyes again.

  Lou stroked
her hair. “I have one more thing to say. I wasn’t sure when to tell you, but if I wait much longer, you’ll hear it on the news and then you’ll be pissed that I didn’t say anything earlier.”

  His ominous tone caused Casey to open her eyes again. “What is it?”

  “Stan called while you were in the bathroom.” Lou reached for her hand. “He just learned that Harold Knox died this morning. He thought you’d want to know.”

  Casey tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. An image of Harold pressing his finger against his chest and calling for Mildred started the tears flowing.

  SEVENTEEN

  Casey had scarcely moved from the sofa in four days. What was the point? Stan hadn’t called since her excursion to the rec center, so she had no idea what, if anything, he’d said to Philippe. Denver hadn’t updated her lately either.

  This week, Casey’s sole mission was wedding preparations, but she found it hard to stay focused. During the day, she kept thinking about Harold and Elsie. During sleep, dreams of bolt cutters and raging silver eyes woke her up. She could still hear Harold asking if she’d like a cup of tea—and the assailant’s threats. She’d lie in bed, frozen in semi-conscious terror until Lou awoke.

  The wedding was five weeks away. Things should be better by then, although the headaches were another issue. The appointment with the specialist was approaching. What if she wasn’t allowed to return to work for weeks?

  Unable to bear that possibility, Casey picked up the brochures on the coffee table. Lou had asked her to choose their honeymoon destination. He didn’t understand how difficult decision-making was for her right now. Besides, other family concerns loomed large.

  Summer’s birthday was just over two weeks away and the makeover had barely begun on her bedroom. Paint and supplies needed to be bought, and a prison visit arranged. The to-do list was overwhelming.

  Casey trudged to the kitchen for more coffee, relieved that Lou had made a large pot before leaving for work. As she poured, someone knocked on her door. Summer rarely knocked and visitors couldn’t get in the house without buzzing the intercom. On the other hand, Summer was downstairs. Maybe she’d let in a friendly face. Oh lord, Barb hadn’t shown up with more wedding questions, had she?

  Casey opened the door, surprised to see Marie Crenshaw. In the seven years they’d known one another, Marie had only come here twice. A couple of years back, she tried to undermine Casey’s relationship with Lou by telling new staff that Casey had stolen Lou from her. A few months ago, she came by to recruit Lou in a bid for unionization. Both efforts had failed. It was all in the past anyway.

  “Sorry to pop by unannounced, but Summer said it was okay to come up,” Marie said. “May I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  Marie stepped inside and looked her over. “Did I get you out of bed?”

  Casey realized how disheveled she must look. She hadn’t even gotten out of the night shirt she’d slept in. “No, I’m just being lazy.”

  “You have a right to be.” Marie sat down in Lou’s old plaid armchair. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. Would you like a coffee or tea? We even have iced tea.”

  “Iced tea sounds great.”

  Casey made a point of walking with assurance. “What’s new at work?”

  “That’s why I’m here. Thought you might want to get up to speed.”

  Casey turned to her and smiled. “Thank you. You’re the first person who’s bothered.”

  “That’s because Stan’s given strict orders not to disturb you, but you know how good I am at following orders. And I know how much you hate being left out of work stuff.”

  Casey poured the iced tea. “True.”

  She returned to the living room and found Marie examining a small stack of novels on the coffee table.

  “I didn’t know you were a reader. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a paperback.”

  Casey handed her the tea. “Between the job and my criminology courses, I never have time. But since I’m not doing either right now, why not?” Casey didn’t add that the library was one of the few places Lou and Summer had let her venture off to on her own.

  “Sherlock Holmes, huh?” Marie picked up the top book. “I shouldn’t be surprised, given the number of crimes you’ve solved.”

  Casey smiled. “In my next life, I want to be him.”

  Marie looked at her for long seconds. “Why can’t you be that now?”

  Casey paused, then shrugged. “Not smart enough.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “But you are resourceful, tenacious, and fearless.”

  No. Not so fearless these days. “Thanks. So tell me what’s been happening at work.”

  Marie updated her on the latest office gossip. By the time that topic had wound down, Casey was eager to hear more about the seniors’ assignment.

  “How are things going with the team?” she asked.

  “They miss you. That dumb-ass Philippe has taken over scheduling for Stan.”

  Casey nearly spilled her coffee. “What?”

  “I don’t know how the ass talked his way into the job, but now he’s assigning the best shifts to the part-timers ’cause they don’t give him as much grief as I do.” Marie shook her head. “Needless to say, I’ve got the worst schedule ever.”

  “Stan should have given you the responsibility. You have seniority.” Why had he given the idiot more responsibility instead of a reprimand? Unless it was his way of keeping an eye on Philippe.

  “Stan knows I hate that kind of stuff. Anoop could have done the job. Even as a part-timer, he’d be more efficient than Philippe. Speaking of which, I overheard a heated discussion between Philippe and Stan yesterday afternoon. Your name came up.” Marie paused. “What did the moron do this time?”

  Why not tell her? The more Marie knew, the more she’d be willing to share. Besides, if Philippe was the leak, then Marie needed to keep her guard up.

  “First, did you hear about the stunt he pulled while I was on graveyard shift?”

  “No. What did he do?”

  As Casey highlighted the details, Marie’s eyes bugged out. “You’ve got to be freakin’ joking.”

  “There’s more.” Casey described Philippe’s lunch date with Erin.

  Marie shook her head. “What the hell is he up to? And why hasn’t Stan fired him, or at least suspended his ass?”

  “He said he needs Philippe because we’re short staffed.”

  “Even so, can’t Stan see that Philippe does more harm than good?” Marie adjusted the clip holding back her thick red hair. “Why does that jerk always have a get-out-of-jail-free card?”

  “Maybe he’s been going over Stan’s head.” Casey paused. “After the team meeting last week, I was in the washroom when I heard Philippe and Gwyn talking in the hallway. Unfortunately, their voices were too low to pick up the conversation.”

  Marie sat forward. “Why would Mainland’s president bother with a minion like him? Gwyn rarely acknowledges our existence.”

  “That’s what I’ve been wondering.”

  “Did you tell Stan?”

  “No. At this point, I’m not sure it’ll do any good.”

  Marie began fanning herself with a brochure. “Something weird’s going on. Ever since Philippe joined Mainland, he’s acted like he knows more than the rest of us. If Gwyn’s helping him think that, then we should find out why.”

  “Already on it.” Casey glanced at her laptop. “I’ve been doing a little research and it looks like Human Resources didn’t check Philippe’s background closely enough. There’s no record of him ever attending McGill. In fact, a lot about him doesn’t add up.”

  Marie started to smile. “I didn’t know you had hacking skills.”

  “A friend helped.”

  Casey had called him a couple of days ago and he had emailed the results a few hours later.

  “I’m not surprised that Philippe lied,” Marie remarked. “The bastard’s clever, but he’s not that smart. Anoop�
��s tried to talk to him about engineering, but Philippe keeps brushing him off.” She snorted. “What else doesn’t add up?”

  Casey hesitated. Revealing too much could start them down a treacherous slope. Did Marie need to know that the guy hadn’t filed a tax return in three years?

  “Come on, Casey,” Marie urged. “This doesn’t go any farther than us. I promise.”

  “I couldn’t find any evidence of him working in security before this job. He’s never had a license in Quebec or Ontario.”

  “That lying jerk!” She plunked the empty glass on the table. “Does Stan know any of this?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You need to talk to him.”

  “I will, but you’ve seen how defensive he gets when I point out Philippe’s shortcomings.”

  “He has to be told, Casey. Too bad you’re not ready to come back. The team needs you.”

  That was one of the nicest things Marie had ever said to her. “I might be ready after the follow-up appointments.”

  Marie sat forward and peered at her. “You’re still in pain, right? Concussed?”

  “Yes, but I don’t need pills nearly as often.”

  “Hate to say it, girl, but you’re deluding yourself.”

  Leave it to Marie to be so blunt. “We’ll have to agree to disagree then.” The concern on Marie’s face, not to mention her silence, was troubling.

  “Casey, I know about these things, and aside from the gossip, I came to see what I could do to help. The kids are staying with my ex-in-laws for a few days, so if you need someone to run errands or take you to the doctor or whatever, let me know. I’d rather be busy than sitting in an empty house, waiting for them to come home.”

  An unexpected offer, but a welcome one. “I appreciate that, Marie. What I need is for you to be my eyes and ears at work. If Philippe is up to no good, then someone needs to watch him.”

  “No problem. Anything to defeat the enemy, and let me know what Stan says when you tell him about Philippe’s dodgy background.”

  “I’ll call him tomorrow. See if he’ll let me do some light desk duties.”

  Marie gave her a pitying look. “You already look more worn out than you did when I got here.”