Black Coffee

by Jaye Watson

  Black Coffee

  A Mystery Novel Byte

  By

  Jaye Watson

  Uncial Press Aloha, Oregon

  2013

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-60174-170-7

  Black Coffee

  Copyright © 2013 by Judith B. Glad

  Cover art and design

  Copyright © 2013 by Judith B. Glad

  Heart necklaces: © Simone Andress - Fotolia.com

  Black coffee cup: © Africa Studio - Fotolia.com

  All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five (5) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Published by Uncial Press,

  an imprint of GCT, Inc.

  Visit us at http://www.uncialpress.com

  With thanks to Bobby Darin and Peggy Lee for showing me

  the benefits of Black Coffee and Cigarettes.

  Chapter One

  Detective Armbruster took her hands. "Dr. Banister... Emaline, he's disappeared. Sometime in the last week. We're not sure when. He should have checked in on Tuesday, like always, but he didn't. His primary contact-- They found his body in the Sound yesterday. He'd been knifed."

  She knew her mouth was working like a stranded fish's. The deep breath she finally forced into her lungs was almost all she could manage. "Harry?" she gasped.

  "We're pretty sure he's still alive."

  "Because you haven't found his body?"

  "Yes."

  Numb, she wandered from room to room. Harry couldn't be dead. She'd have felt it. Would have known if the tentative, growing connection between them had been severed. She ended up in her bedroom, staring into the cloudy mirror on her antique dresser. Her eyes were too big, her mouth too tight. Tears glistened on her cheeks, tears she hadn't been aware of shedding.

  Slowly, as is the hands that acted belonged to someone else, she opened the wooden chest that held her jewelry. She'd never been much for gewgaws, and there had only been one man--other than Harry--who'd given her jewelry. A long time ago.

  She touched the velvet packet that lay in the deepest corner, lifted the top fold. A ring was tucked inside, a diamond ring. Half a carat, Tiffany-cut, set in platinum.

  A promise never kept, dreams never realized. A life wasted when a drunk thought the disabled car was in the lane ahead. He had not known it was standing still until he hit it.

  She folded the packet closed again, tucked it back into its corner, and picked up the zippered silk envelope next to it. Inside was a golden chain of tiny double links from which a heart dangled. Just an outline, white gold set with red stones, with a scintillating white diamond where the two halves dipped together. Not quite a promise, but perhaps a hint that a promise might be in the offing.

  Might have been?

  If Harry hadn't disappeared.

  * * * *

  After the worst Sunday in her life, Monday should have been better.

  It wasn't.

  "There's a meeting in the conference room at eight-thirty." Alice, an occasional temp, was sitting at the reception desk when Emaline arrived at BioLogic, Inc. "It's minatory."

  Did Alice deliberately misuse words? She certainly had no trouble with spelling and was an incredibly fast typist. "Thanks." Emaline went to her office and closed the door behind her, not ready to face her co-workers yet. Just getting here on the bus had left her shaking and exhausted after a sleepless night punctuated with bouts of weeping.

  She sat at her desk and forced herself to take deep, even breaths until the shuffle of feet and laughter in the hallway told her she'd better get to the conference room. On the way she'd stop and get a cup of coffee, instead of her usual tea. Black coffee. Otherwise she was likely to fall asleep, if Dr. Burton gave his usual long-winded State-of-the-Company speech.

  Roger Stanton had saved her a seat at the far end of the room. She wished he hadn't. He was a good enough friend to ask what was wrong, rather than speculating silently. "I don't want to talk about it," she said as she slipped into the chair.

  "Lunch?"

  Knowing she'd have to give him some sort of explanation, she nodded. Further conversation was prevented by the entry of Dr. Geoffrey Burton, stuffed shirt and CEO of BioLogic Laboratories, Ltd. He took his place at the head of the table and cleared his throat.

  Conversation gradually died away and everyone looked toward Dr. Burton.

  He rocked in pace, heel-to-toe, three times. Cleared his throat twice. Glanced almost furtively around the room, and cleared his throat again. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I convened this meeting."

  Emaline caught Roger's sardonic glance and smiled in spite of her mood. She hadn't seen Burton so uncertain since Mary O'Neill's death at the holiday party.

  "Ahem. I've some rather unexpected news for you all. At least I hope it's unexpected... That is..." He looked around, as if expecting someone to come in and interrupt his. "I really don't know what's keeping--"

  The door behind him opened and he turned quickly. "Ah, there you are. Now we can begin."

  Two men and one woman entered. The woman was almost familiar, but Emaline couldn't put a name with the face. They all wore expensive dark suits--no disguising the drape and appearance of fine wool and superb tailoring. The woman, tall and blonde, with subdued makeup except for brilliant red glistening on full lips that reminded Emaline of that actress she didn't care for. She stepped forward to stand beside Dr. Burton, overtopping him by a couple of inches.

  "Yes, well, I'd like to introduce you all to Dr. Fenella Allardyce. I'm sure some of you have heard of her."

  Dr. Allardyce's expression didn't change as she slowly inspected the staff. "Yes, thank you, Dr. Burton" she said, in a surprisingly deep voice. "Perhaps it would be best if you told them why I am here."

  "Yes. Ahem. Yes, of course." He tapped his fingers on the table, rocked heel-to-toe a couple more times, and said, "While I had not thought to retire for several years yet, when Dr. Allardyce's representatives approached me with a generous offer for BioLogic laboratories, I was tempted. Yes. Strongly tempted."

  Oh my God! Emaline turned to stare at Roger who was looking back at her with eyes just as wide. She didn't hear Burton's next few words, because she was remembering where and when she'd encountered Fenella Allardyce before.

  "...stockholders felt the offer was generous and voted to accept. We met early this morning to finalize the transaction, and as of noon today, Dr. Allardyce will be your CEO. I'm sure all of you will cooperate in making the transition from my leadership to hers smooth and problem-free." He stepped back, leaving Allardyce alone at the table's head.

  "Thank you, Dr. Burton. I'm sure we'll have no problems. There will be a short period of adjustment as we study ways to fit BioLogic into the larger structure of our holdings, while maintaining its autonomy, but that shouldn't affect day-to-day operations. During the transition, please consider Mr. Fontina--" She gestured to the expressionless dark-haired man on her left. "--and Dr. Schaatz my deputies in every way."

  Schaatz at least appeared approachable, with Nordic good looks and a quick smile. Fontina looked as if smil
ing would cause his face to crack.

  By noon Roger had forgotten all about Emaline's promise to tell him what was bothering her. Much to her relief.

  A bunch of them went to lunch together. The conversation centered on what the future of Bio-Logic held for them, with occasional dire warnings of heads to roll. Plates were mostly clean when Roger said, almost as if thinking aloud, "You were on a panel with Allardyce a couple of years ago, weren't you. Em?"

  "More like five. She's very knowledgeable and decisive." And a high-carbon steel bitch, but she'd never say that aloud.

  "What's her specialty?" Alex said.

  "I-I'm not sure. The panel we were on addressed new techniques in DNS sequencing. At the time she was working for one of the chemical companies--I forget which. I seem to remember she spoke about finding compounds that were less toxic for chain termination methods. There may have been more, but that's what stuck in my mind."

  "I heard she was involved in that hostile takeover at Sandoval Labs last year," someone at the other end of the table said.

  Emaline missed the answer when Roger and Alex went off on a tangent about a paper they'd read recently. She was content to let the conversation flow around her, because she was still in an emotional morass. All she could think about was Harry.

  He was alive. She refused to believe otherwise.

  Not a lot of work got accomplished that afternoon. Everyone in the office seemed to be on the move, dropping in to spread the latest rumors, to speculate about job security, to predict massive layoffs. "That's what happened at Lang & Trently when they got bought out," Stan Vilovek said, when Emaline asked him why he was so sure they'd all be out of jobs in a week. "Everybody above tech level was fired--they called it paring away excess flab--and six months later the remnants were absorbed into the mega-corporation that took them over."

  "Didn't Dr. Allardyce say we'd operate autonomously?" She wasn't sure she believed it would happen, but spreading gloom and doom wasn't good for morale.

  * * * *

  That evening she found herself picking things up and putting them down instead of fixing supper or doing anything else constructive. She couldn't think two consecutive thoughts without coming back to Harry. Pretty sure he's still alive... played over and over in her mind until she wanted to scream.

  Just as she and Harry had agreed it was time to take their relationship to a new level, he'd gone off on a special assignment. After a shaky beginning, it had taken them a while to get past guilt and distrust, mostly on her part. Harry insisted he'd never seriously considered her a suspect in her grandfather's death, but she'd not totally believed him. Only when he enlisted her help in proving Mary McNeill's death was murder, not just a tragic accident, had she given up her last reservation about his future role in her life.

  He'd made no pretense about intending to play a role as more than a good friend. Harry was a sensible fellow, and Emaline was a confirmed spinster, so neither of them had been in a hurry to take that next step. Both had lost loved ones in the past year, so they'd agreed that January would be soon enough for a conversation about what came next.

  And then he'd gone off on the special assignment. She'd received a valentine gift from him--the heart-pendant--sent from an address in Seattle that turned out to be a law firm's. He'd called once, a short, unsatisfying call that only increased her worry for him.

  Now he was missing.

  When the phone rang about seven-thirty, she nearly jumped out of her skin before snatching it from its cradle.

  "Oh, Em, I am so happy. I found the most darling little Cardigan Corgi online. I'm checking the kennel now. If they're reputable, I'm going to get her. She's black and white and has the sweetest little face. And only seven hundred dollars!"

  "Martha?"

  "Yes, it's me. Isn't it thrilling? I've been so lonely since Perky... Well, never mind. I'm sure this little sweetheart will fill the empty spot in my heart."

  Struck speechless, Emaline could only hum a wordless agreement. In her opinion, there were many better ways to spend that much money, but she wasn't really a dog person, so much as a person who knew and loved certain individual dogs.

  Martha's Perky had not been among that number. He'd been bad tempered, overweight, and prone to nip at heels. But Martha had loved him, and had honestly mourned his death. Her pain had been greater because he'd been one of several dogs that had died from poisoned doggy treats.

  Emaline found her voice, made appropriate comments, and begged off before Martha could give her a complete pedigree. "I'll see you Friday, okay? I'm... Gotta go."

  "I think I'll call her Darlin', because she is so... Sorry. I'm just so excited. I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Only I just had to tell you."

  "Yes, well, I'm happy for you." And she meant it. Just because her heart might be breaking didn't mean she couldn't wish a friend well.

  She kept her hand on the phone for a few seconds after hanging up. What would Martha's husband say? He'd made his dislike of Perky clear for as long as they'd had the dog, and had been totally unsympathetic when the poor thing died.

  * * * *

  By Friday she'd managed to convince herself that her job was secure, that Harry was fine. Most of the time.

  Except for when she received a new memo from Mr. Fontina about changes in office procedures. Except for those moments when she was sure she'd never see Harry again.

  Getting together with her friends was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew there was nothing better to take her mind off her trouble than a few hours in their company. The four of them had been each other's extended family, best friends, and support group since high school. They still gave their weekly evenings out top priority in their schedules.

  It was Amy's turn to pick the venue, so they met at a new Thai place in the Pearl. The restaurant was full of what would have been Yuppies ten years ago. Emaline wasn't sure what to call them now, but she overheard enough of several conversations that she was glad she wasn't in a job where clothing and sociability were important. She sort of liked her ivory tower.

  After a very good but too expensive dinner, everyone agreed that a quiet little bar would suit them better. They strolled the few blocks to Wisteria, a new place that was half empty and quietly comfortable. At a table in a dark corner they began the catch-up conversation the noise in the restaurant had prevented.

  Martha could speak of nothing but Darlin'. The puppy had come by plane the day before. Shipping had not part been of the purchase price, and rolled eyes around the table made it pretty plain that for once they all agreed with Walt that she'd spent too damn much money.

  No one said a negative word, though. One thing they'd long ago agreed upon was that they'd never criticize each other's children--or pets.

  "So far, so good," Emaline said, when Jerri asked about the situation at BioLogic. "Allardyce's flunkies wander around 'observing', but so far there have been no major changes. They're sure making everyone nervous, though. Who likes having someone peering over a shoulder without warning?"

  "Takeovers always make me nervous," Amy said. "I've never heard of one where a few heads didn't roll. Are you sure your job's secure?"

  "I can't imagine it not being. I'm not irreplaceable, but I'm pretty good at what I do. And no one's ever complained about how I do it."

  "You should be fine as long as you keep your mouth shut." Jerri said.

  Everyone laughed, even Emaline. She'd never been one to keep her opinion to herself when she saw inefficiency or waste. Dr. Burton had often been irritated with her, but he'd also often thanked her for saving the company money. Not all of the technicians at BioLogic appreciated her suggestions, though, particularly when critical of how they performed their duties.

  "I'll try" she said, and crossed her heart.

  "Yeah, right," Amy said. "For about two days."

  "That long? I doubt it," Martha said.

  "What is this? Pick on Emaline night?"

  All three of her best fr
iends nodded solemnly.

  Chapter Two

  "Dr. Bannister, would you come to my office?"

  "Of course." Emaline hung up and stared at the phone for nearly a minute. Why on earth was Fontina wanting to speak with her?

  She had hardly set foot inside his office when he said, "I trust you can explain this." He laid a sheet of paper on his desk, one she recognized.

  "Well, yes. It's my request for a travel advance. I'm presenting a paper at the Society of Genetic Chemists symposium next month. Dr. Burton liked us to submit our requests well in advance."

  "I wasn't aware you were planning to be absent. Isn't the conference in Seattle?"

  "Yes. I sent Patty in HR a memo several weeks ago. My paper is based on the Winkler paternity suit. Our findings were quite unique, and so far no one has been able to replicate them."

  "You did this work while employed by BioLogic?"

  "Of course. It's not the sort of thing one does in one's spare time." She couldn't understand his questions. Dr. Burton had urged her to prepare the paper, and had offered to pay her expenses. She'd protested but only for form's sake. He would be senior author on the paper, but she was the presenter, so it was only fair that her travel and lodging would be paid for.

  "I see." He frowned and seemed to be considering. "Dr. Banister, please get me a copy of the paper. It is Dr. Allardyce's policy that no research results be made public without her approval." He tapped his fingers on the desk. "If she approves your presenting the paper, fifty percent of your expenses will be reimbursed."

  Emaline knew her jaw had dropped. She took a deep breath. "I'm sure the symposium organizers would be rather upset if I were to renege at this late date, but that is, of course, up to Dr. Allardyce."

  "Oh, don't misunderstand me. The paper will be presented. But you may not be the one to do it." He picked up a folder and opened it, clearly dismissing her.

  On the way back to her office, she tried to decide if she was furious or devastated. She'd led the team that had broken new ground in biogenetics and she damn well deserved the credit. But she'd signed an Employee Invention Agreement when she came to work for BioLogic. The information in her paper belonged to the corporation, not to her.