by Dale Mayer
She didn’t dare breathe, much less move. It felt like everything simply froze while she took in the body’s state as it lay crumped on the office floor. A gaping hole existed where the back of Fred’s head used to be. The new hole looked like it went through the back of his head. He still held the gun that killed him.
It felt surreal to Hailey. Fred was the nicest man she knew, a partner she respected, and knew he’d never commit suicide. Yet the proof was in front of her. When her brain finally registered that she should do something about the dead body, she pulled out her phone and called Sheriff Raleigh Jones. “You need to come here,” she told Raleigh. “Fred’s dead. From appearances, he shot himself. But you and I both know that’s not who he is … was.”
“Don’t touch anything. I’m on my way.”
She walked back and forth beside the body, picked up her coffee, stepped out of the doorway. She nudged the door more closed, in case anybody else came upstairs. And then she stood guard. She didn’t hear any of her employees arrive, even though the workday had begun. Was it because she felt so disconnected from reality? Or because her thoughts kept racing here and there? Her hands couldn’t stop shaking.
After a few more moments of waiting, Raleigh arrived. When he reached her, she pointed to the door behind her. He stepped in. From where Hailey stood, she heard him suck in his breath. Then Raleigh bent down and studied the body before looking at her. She stepped inside and kicked the door closed.
“I turned off the security system when I came in,” she said. “Then made coffee. I went up the stairs and saw the light under his door, which was unusual because the security was on and no one had made coffee yet. So I opened the door, and this is what I found.”
“Did you come straight from the ranch?”
“I did, yes.”
“Did you see anybody on your way out?”
“I don’t remember any other cars on the road here.”
“Did anyone see you leave the ranch?”
“Yes,” she said, frowning at his question. “Carter’s visiting. I had a conversation with him on the front porch.”
“So, he can confirm your story?”
She nodded. “Absolutely. You know how I felt about Fred.”
“I know,” he said, “but you realize what’s wrong with this scene, don’t you?”
She studied it again, wondered, then figured out what bothered her. “He’s a lefty. And the gun’s in his right hand.”
“Exactly,” he said. “I want you to go to your office, and then I’ll make some calls.”
“Phil isn’t in yet. I need to talk to him first before we tell the rest of the company.”
The sheriff frowned and nodded. “I have to call the coroner and get my deputies in here. I want to go over this entire place.”
“Then maybe I should go back downstairs and put everybody in the boardroom.”
He brightened at that. “Better. Much better. Keep them quarantined but don’t tell them anything.”
She nodded and hurried downstairs. Three or four employees were in already.
“There’s an emergency meeting in the boardroom,” she called out. “Everybody, file in, please.” She pushed the double doors open, turned on the lights, and waited for those here to join her. Then she walked out of the room. “Please don’t leave. I’m waiting for the rest to come in.”
Particularly she was waiting for Phil. He was the third partner in the company, and she had no clue where he was. He was an early bird—so, where the hell was he? She had already called him twice on his cell phone, but she got no answer. She left a voicemail on her third call. A terrible feeling resided in her gut as she raced up the stairs, only to be met by a deputy who told her that she couldn’t go any farther. In a low voice, she urgently motioned at the third door. “Please check that office. I can’t find Phil.”
The deputy gave her a horrified look and stepped back. Then, with a gloved hand, he turned the knob. It wouldn’t budge. “It’s locked,” he said when he turned to her.
She nodded. “It should be locked. I wish he would answer my calls though.”
“It’s probably nothing. Just go downstairs and wait.”
She turned around and headed downstairs. It didn’t feel right to her. None of this did. But then she had just seen one of the nicest men in the world on the floor with a bullet hole through his mouth. And she and the sheriff both knew it had to be something other than a simple suicide. Fred was a family man. He was so damn proud that his grandniece was graduating this year. No way he would have committed suicide. And then she remembered the forms she found on the copier. She needed to have a private conversation with Raleigh. The trouble was, she didn’t think she could afford to involve anybody else.
When she reached the boardroom, she saw one of her employees trying to leave, with others standing in response. She stood with her hands on her hips. “Did you just go against a direct order from a partner?”
Slim gave her an insolent look.
That was the only thing he ever gave her.
“We want to know what’s going on,” he said. “Surely we have a right to know that.”
“You’ll know when we’re ready to tell you,” she said with a sigh.
“But you know something.”
“I do. And I also know I’m not telling you. So enough.” She motioned at the chairs. “Take a seat.”
When nobody budged, she raised her voice. “Take a seat or we’ll discuss why you’re not taking a seat and perhaps why we’re looking at laying people off.”
At that, several people sat down.
“I don’t understand this attitude,” she continued. “Obviously a crisis has happened here—but instead of coming together, I’m seeing aggression and dissonance. What’s behind this?”
“We just want to know what’s going on,” Slim protested.
She eyed him. He slouched in his designer suit against the wall. His hands were in his pockets, and he studied her with that same insolent smile.
“Huh. Maybe you are what’s behind this.” She glanced around. Most of the others were sheep in the pack, whereas Slim would never be anybody’s sheep. He was goat all the way. Cantankerous and cranky, following his own way, and just as likely to butt you in the head to climb on top of you. She leaned back against the open doorway.
“Interesting reaction to a company in crisis,” she said. She narrowed her gaze and studied her employees. They were as much her employees as they were poor Fred’s. And Phil’s. Still no answer from Phil. She had pocketed her phone after checking for the umpteenth time. She glanced at Candy, Phil’s secretary. “Candy, do you know where Phil is?”
Candy looked worried. “I can’t remember. If you let me get to my computer, I could tell you. I have a schedule there.”
“No, don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’ll show up.”
“The alternative would be interesting,” Slim said.
Hailey stiffened and wondered just how far he would go with that attitude. She hadn’t wanted to hire him in the first place, but he was related to Fred, and so Fred had asked her to hire him. What if Slim really was involved in this as part of some delusional plan to become one of the company’s partners? The thought left Hailey bitter, but she reassured herself that she, Fred, and Phil had closed that loophole. Their rule was, if one of them died, the company would be left to the other two. And now that she thought about it, of course, that gave both her and Phil a prime motive for Fred’s murder.
Or gave Slim two more people to kill.
Just as she was thinking about asking the sheriff for more answers, he called out behind her. “Hailey, come here.”
Slim popped his head out, but the sheriff gave him a bland stare. “Is your name Hailey?”
“It can be,” Slim said with a shrug. “If that’s what you want to call me so I can get answers. I have work to do today.”
“Nobody will be doing any work here today, other than my people,” the sheriff said. He motioned to Hailey, a
nd she stepped forward to whisper to him. A deputy took her place at the doorway to the conference room.
“They’re not handling the waiting well.”
“Tough,” he said. “Do you know where Phil is?”
“No. I’ve been trying to contact him all day. Or all morning.” She nodded toward the others. “Why don’t you tell them? They need to stop barking at the door and understand why they’re being held.”
“Fine, but I can’t stand tears.” He sighed, then walked into the center of the conference room. Hailey stood by the door and kept her eyes on Slim as Raleigh spoke. Cries of horror rose, and a few sobs echoed. Meanwhile, Slim’s face betrayed nothing. Not shock nor disbelief. And definitely not grief. She was sure Slim’s only thoughts were about who would take Fred’s position.
Then, as if everyone had the same thought—or at least something along the lines of it—they all turned to look at her. She nodded. “Now you know why I couldn’t say anything.”
The secretaries blubbered together, their arms around each other. Fred had been a well-loved partner. He’d also been the founder.
“Is that why you asked where Phil is?” Candy asked.
“It would be nice to tell him in person,” Hailey said. “Much better than him hearing about it on the news. Of which there is a complete blackout.” She gave Slim a pointed look. He was already on his phone. “Anybody who lets out a word about this faces immediate firing.”
Slim glared at her.
“And, yes, you in particular, Slim. We’re prohibiting social media, phoning, or texting. Hand your phones over to Raleigh, everyone. Failure to do so will have us assume you had something to do with this.” Her voice was harsh, strident, and cold. She had zero tolerance for anybody who would take advantage of a man’s death like that.
While Slim continued his protest, Raleigh stepped forward and removed the phone from his hand. “Looks like you got your first one to fire. He posted on Facebook.”
She glared at Slim. “What account?”
“My personal account,” he said in insolence.
“As far as I’m concerned,” she turned to Raleigh, “you should take him down for questioning, and we’ll post that on the company website along with his termination.” Her voice was calm, but she knew what kind of reaction she would get.
Slim straightened. “Hey, look. I didn’t post it yet. You can see that I didn’t hit Send yet.”
“But that’s what you were planning on doing, wasn’t it? You have no loyalty to either your company or your own family. Fred was a good man. He deserved a hell of a lot better from you.”
She took the phone, canceled the post, then gave it back to Raleigh. “Your phone stays here, but you are now terminated.”
“You can’t do that! I’m related to Fred.”
“Well, guess what? He is now gone, and I just fired you. The door’s behind you. Use it.” She waited.
He straightened up after a moment and glared at her. “You’re not top bitch now,” he said.
“I am top bitch,” she snapped. “And don’t you forget it.”
“Phil will have something to say about this.”
“Phil will have a lot to say about it,” she said. “Especially when he finds out you were going to post Fred’s death on social media.” She looked at the others. “Did anybody else cross that line?” Every head shook. She nodded. “Your accounts will be monitored.”
Hailey turned to Slim. “You’re under a code of silence. Otherwise there’ll be a pending lawsuit.” Slim was at a loss for words and did nothing but glare at her instead. She pointed at the door. “I’m the one who said you should be leaving, but I presume Raleigh has a lot of good reasons why you should be separated into your own room to question you.”
Raleigh nodded his head once. “But not where he has access to a computer. This is extremely sensitive information.” He turned to the other employees. “And obviously it would be nice if some of you would show some restraint and care for the person who gave you your paychecks.”
Some of the women shifted from foot to foot. They looked a little uncomfortable, but Slim didn’t. They waited for the deputy to search him.
After Slim was removed to a side room, under deputy guard, Raleigh called Hailey over again. “How dangerous is he?”
“In this business? He knows nothing about the finance world yet enough about computers to cause problems with the company and our clients,” she said. “He’s been a thorn in my side ever since he was hired. Even now, he’s calculating how he can take over Fred’s spot at the top of the company.”
Raleigh winced. “Is that likely?”
“In his head, yes. In actuality, no,” she said. “Even though this information will make me one of the two prime suspects, the partners decided a long time ago that, if one of us were to die, the power goes to the remaining two. So, nobody steps into Fred’s position, and now Phil and I both have more control over the company.”
The sheriff gave a low whistle.
She sighed. “But I can’t find Phil. He’s not answering his phone. His office up there is locked too.” Hailey looked into Raleigh’s eyes. “I would like permission to unlock that door and make sure he’s not in there in the same state as Fred.”
“Do you think that’s possible?” Raleigh asked in a low voice, his gaze searching.
“I wouldn’t have said Fred’s death was possible. Not like that.” She rummaged in her pockets and brought out the keys. “Come with me?”
She held her breath as she unlocked the door to Phil’s office and didn’t dare breathe until after they found no body. “Well, thank heavens for that,” she said.
“Are you really thinking something happened to him?”
“I didn’t think anything would happen to Fred and look what happened.”
“Good point.” The sheriff looked around Phil’s office. “Does anything look changed or different?”
“That.” Hailey motioned to the open window. “Phil is a sweater person and is always cold.”
Raleigh sighed. “You’re right. He’s always chilly.” He strode over to poke his head outside and to survey the grounds below. Finding nothing of note, he drew back inside, leaving the window untouched.
“You remember the sweaters he always wore, right?”
The sheriff got a lopsided grin on his face. “And I remember his wife trying to deep-six those sweaters into the garbage and him pulling them back out every damn time.”
“Exactly. He never got hot, and he never ever had this window open.”
“Somebody could climb down from here, to the overhang at the rear door, then jump into the bushes to each side.” Raleigh frowned. “We’ll dust it for prints.”
“Good idea.”
“Plus,” the sheriff continued, pointing to the window, “where is the parking lot camera in relation to this window?”
“Uh-oh,” Hailey said. “This is the backside of the building, with the majority of the parking on the front and the east sides. So this area under the window is not in the camera’s range.”
The sheriff made a grimace as he tilted his head.
“Maybe you should send a deputy to Phil’s house too. I’ve tried calling his wife, Betty’s, phone, but she isn’t answering either.”
The sheriff’s face shut down. “This is looking worse.”
“I don’t want it to get any worse than it already is.” Hailey’s voice broke. “Fred was like a father to me.”
“I know he was. I’m sorry.”
She nodded and focused on breathing properly.
“We’ll interview everybody here,” Raleigh continued. “Let’s start with you.”
“Whatever you need.” Hailey’s body wanted to collapse in on herself. Her soul was already crying for the loss of a good friend. “When we’re completely private, I have something else I need to talk to you about as well. It might be related.”
The sheriff’s gaze narrowed. “Good enough. Let’s do a preliminary now, then come to
my office later.”
She nodded, as he motioned for her to have a seat in her office.
“We’ll verify with that Carter person that you were home earlier,” Raleigh started. “What about the rest of the staff though? Any problems?”
“Slim. He’s insolent and thinks he’s above doing a day’s work. Because he’s Fred’s grandnephew, he thinks the company owes him.”
“Yeah. He’s always been that way.”
“As long as I have known him, yes. He doesn’t like to be chopped down, yet constantly pushes people’s buttons so all you feel like doing is hitting him.”
“Obviously hard feelings exist between the two of you.”
“Especially now that I fired him. He didn’t like having a female boss.”
Raleigh nodded slowly. “You think he is dangerous in the other sense?”
“Everybody’s dangerous in the right situation. I wouldn’t have thought so in his case, but I can’t be sure.”
“Good enough. Why don’t you head on home, and I’ll call you when I’m done? Then how about I meet you back at my office?”
“Good enough. You know I have a lot of work to do too, right?”
“Got it,” Raleigh said, “but not today.”
“Can I take my laptop and go home?”
“Yes, but I don’t need to tell you that I don’t want you to delete any files.”
“No, you don’t need to tell me that,” she said. She stopped and turned to look back at him. “Fred was a good man. He didn’t deserve this.”
“No, he didn’t.”
She grabbed her purse and laptop and walked downstairs and left the building. She was the only one free to go, but it didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like a life sentence.