A Christmas to Die For_Mrs. A 1

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A Christmas to Die For_Mrs. A 1 Page 17

by Kristine Frost


  She looked out of the window. Whew, that was close. Thank heavens, it wasn’t Roger’s car.

  Quickly, she pulled the recorder out of her pocket, then hit the playback on the machine. She took notes on the calls just in case the recorder didn’t work. “These are really weird messages,” she said to herself.

  There was sound in the hall. Hastily, she shut the panel, grabbed her flashlight, then checked to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. She hurried through Bob’s doors making sure to grab her coat and lock the doors. She hung up her coat and was working on the computer when the phone rang.

  She glanced at her watch: Six forty-five a.m. She clicked on her recorder before she said, “Black and Drake Associates. How may I help you?”

  “Drake there?” The voice was gruff and there was a lot of background noise.

  “He’s not in yet. May I take a message?”

  “When will he be in?” The voice demanded.

  “He is usually here by eight thirty.”

  There was a click and the line went dead. She hung up the phone and switched off the recorder. “So far so good.” She said to herself.

  Ann had hooked up the ancient Dictaphone and was pounding out the letters that Roger had been so furious about yesterday, when Roger unlocked the door.

  “What the devil are you doing here at this hour,” he snapped irritably.

  She smiled sweetly. “I came in early to get caught up with that correspondence you were so annoyed about last night. I just finished that first batch of letters. They are ready for you to sign.” She handed him the pile.

  “It’s about time those letters got done. It seems like nothing gets done in this office anymore.”

  “Having the police in and out of the office a dozen times a day doesn’t help me get my work done and neither does answering hundreds of questions. Lately it seems like that’s all I’ve done is answer questions,” she said sweetly.

  As soon as Roger had hut his door, Ann put the ear bud in and began typing. The phone rang.

  “I’ll answer it.” Roger called.

  As soon as the light went on, she pushed the buttons on the phone and the recorder at the same time.

  “Drake.”

  “It’s about time you got it.”

  “You’re not supposed to call me here.”

  “Shut up,” the voice said. Although muffled it was a woman’s voice “Meet me tonight at the place we met at on the 14th. There’s trouble so take care.”

  “Okay about tonight, but don’t call me here again.”

  Ann hastily replaced the receiver and flipped off the recorder. She was down on the floor fiddling with the Dictaphone medal when Roger opened the door.

  “I thought you were going to catch up on your work. I don’t hear any typing. And don’t tell me it’s a keyboard because I can hear it when you’re working.”

  From under the desk she said, “This blasted Dictaphone pedal only works part of the time. I think it has a short in it. Every time I use it, I have to wiggle the cord to get it in the correct position.”

  “Get it right, then put some tape around it. If that doesn’t work, get it fixed.” He snapped as he stepped back into his office. He shut the door with a slam.

  Ann could feel her temper reach the boiling point. She began typing hard, making the keyboard rattle. “You’re such a jerk. I sure don’t understand why Bob took you on as a partner. He must have had brain thud when he did it.”

  Several hours later, the phone rang. “Black and Drake Associates,” she said, her hands shaking.

  “Just a moment and I’ll put you through.” She pushed the button to transfer the call, set down the receiver and was getting ready to pick it up again, when the outer door opened.

  “Good morning, inspector. What can I do for you today?”

  “I came by your apartment several times last night and you weren’t in.”

  Before Ann could figure out what to say, Roger yanked open his door. “My secretary is paid to do my work. She is not paid to answer stupid questions and you’ve asked enough stupid questions to solve at least twenty murders.”

  Ann waited silently for the explosion.

  “Mr. Drake, when I’m on a case, I need to question people. I’m sorry if it interferes with Miss Miles work. I can always take her down to the FBI office to ask her these questions. She will be away from the office for several hours, but that is your choice.”

  “Alright. But be quick about it.” He turned and re-entered his office, shutting the door with a slam.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s been like this all morning. He gets worse every day. I’ve been sending out resumes. I’ll be gone as soon as I can find another job.”

  Inspector Lepley looked thoughtful. Then he motioned for her to follow him into the hall. Silently they walked to the elevator. When they were out of hearing, Lepley said, “I would very much appreciate it if you would stay here until we find out what happened to Black. I hate to ask this of you, but I think it would be helpful to our finding Bob, if you would stay.”

  “I don’t want to leave if Bob is coming back. It bugs me that Roger acts like he’s Bob’s heir and he’s in charge now. I know that wasn’t ever Bob’s intention.”

  She didn’t think she should tell him that Martin was paying her extra to stay. She didn’t think he needed to know/

  Lepley looked at her. “You’ve been snooping around, haven’t you?”

  Ann looked embarrassed. “Yes. I have.”

  “I can’t ask you to tell me you’ve found out, but you could volunteer the information.”

  Ann raised an eyebrow. “All right. But if Roger asks me, I don’t want to lie so I guess I won’t tell you that there is a secret panel in Roger’s office. I guess I won’t tell you that the secret closet contains piles of money and I guess you don’t need to know that most of them are one hundred dollar bills. And I won’t tell you that Roger has a locked drawer in his desk that contains piles of blackmailing letters. You probably don’t need to know that I took pictures of those letters which I just happened to stumble on. “

  She smiled. “If you’ll give me a cell phone number or an e-mail address, I certainly won’t send those pictures to you.”

  With a grin, he handed her his card. “I won’t tell you thank you or to be careful then.”

  Turning her back to the office door, she quickly sent the pictures to his cell phone and to her personal e-mail address. “Did you not get them?”

  He looked at his phone. “Yes.” He glanced at a few of the letters. “Interesting. I can see that we’re going to solve a bunch of suicides with these letters.”

  She looked at him, “Inspector, I want you to know that I don’t believe for one minute that Bob’s dead. He is too smart to let himself get killed an incident like the one in Carlsbad Caverns. He’s too honest and upright to go into hiding to protect himself at a risk to others. He’s no fool so don’t underestimate him.”

  They walked slowly back to her office. “Miss Miles, I want to see all of Bob’s correspondence that you typed and haven’t sent off. I’ll bet you have letters that have come in the mail.”

  “I don’t think I should let you see his correspondence. Most of it is extremely private and don’t have a bearing on the case. I could really damage the agency by letting you see them.”

  He pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll call for a search warrant.”

  “Putting the thumb screws on, Inspector?” Ann asked sweetly.

  “No. This way we won’t get you into trouble.”

  “Get your search warrant. But I don’t keep Bob’s sensitive information in this office since I told Roger that Bob had finished up everything and I mailed it all just before he disappeared.”

  He looked at his watch. “When do you go to lunch?”

  “I’m overdue to go and I’m starved.”

  “Will you go to your apartment with me so I can get that information?”

  “Inspector, I live more than an hour away.
I can’t get there and back during my lunch hour. She wrote a note telling him where to find the papers. “You won’t need my apartment key. This key opens the storage shed for my apartment.”

  “I’ll return them to you as soon as I’m finished with them.”

  “Please return them to my apartment. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep them as private as possible.”

  “I promise. I’ll be the only one who sees them unless something applies to the case. Can Roger access what’s on your computer?”

  “He shouldn’t be able to. It’s password protected, but just to be on the safe side, I have a portable hard drive for Bob’s correspondence and files. It’s with the paperwork we talked about.”

  He held the door open for her to enter her office. “I need to get into Bob’s office.”

  She removed a heavy brass key from her purse. “It’s too heavy for my key ring. I don’t want the weight to ruin my ignition.”

  As she handed him the key, she said, “I haven’t touched anything in his office.” There was a very slight emphasis on the word I.

  “Who’s been in there besides my men? It has crime scene tape on the doors.”

  She tipped her head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get this next batch of letters into the mail.”

  When the mail came she hastily sorted it just as she had done before Bob disappeared. She shoved Bob’s letters into her middle drawer, locked it and picked up Roger’s pile. She tapped perfunctorily at his door, just as she always had, opened it and walked in

  He was standing near the filing cabinet, looking extremely annoyed. “I didn’t hear myself say ‘come in’.” He said. His tone could have taken paint off a wall. “I wish you would wait until I admit you. I don’t like things as free and easy as Bob did and if you can’t learn that, you’ll have to find another position.”

  Angry red flushed her face, but she managed to say calmly, “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again. There must be a reason for his tirade. I’ll be he’s been in his secret closet.”

  She looked at the wall from under her eyelashes while she set the mail on his desk. I’m right. He didn’t get it closed all the way before I walked in. Without another word, she turned and left the room, a small, satisfied smile barely curling her lips. Am I going to nail you!

  Inspector Lepley was standing in the doorway to Black’s office. Without a word, Ann pulled Bob’s mail from her desk and handed it to him, then she sat down and began typing.

  I’ll get those letters done or die trying.

  Lepley shoved the letters in his pocket then turned and locked the door. He was handing the key to Ann when Roger walked into the room.

  Ann couldn’t help but compare the two men. They were both wearing gray suits, but Roger’s jacket was a little too bold. Their ties were similar in color and pattern, but again Roger’s was a bit too wide. Compared to Lepley, Roger looks like a gangster from the 30’s.

  “Are you finished,” Roger asked with a pseudo sweetness, his eyes angry.

  Lepley looked at Roger. “For now. I’ll be back if I need more information.”

  “Then we must hope you won’t need any more information, mustn’t we?” Roger said in an imitation of a British Lord.

  Ann suppressed a shudder. “He’s asking for trouble. You just can’t bait the police.”

  Chapter 23

  Same day--Mrs. A’s apartment

  Ruth walked into the dining room in her lush purple silk robe. “I thought Dr. Craig said that these pills wouldn’t have any effects. I slept all night and I feel like I’ve been drugged for a week.”

  “Do you want me to call him?”

  “No. But I’m not going to take any more of them. I don’t know how long it will take me to get back to normal. I’m not nervous or worried and I should be.”

  “Mrs. A., you have that meeting of the Welcome Home Committee this morning.” Martin said, looking at her planner.

  She groaned. “I don’t want to go. I can’t concentrate on anything—my mind feels like it’s stuffed with Down.”

  “Goose or duck?” Martin kidded.

  When she glared at him, he said, “I know that it seems like things are spinning out of control, but you have Weldon Tech and your other businesses under control.”

  “As under control as possible where the president and some of my employees are selling government secrets to the highest bidder and the highest bidders are either arms dealers or the terrorist groups themselves.”

  “Ma’am--”

  “Martin, I’m not in the mood to be called ma’am. You know I hate it”

  “I know you hate it, but I use it to get your attention.” He paused, then continued, “If Mr. Fredrick were still alive, he would tell you that appearance is everything.”

  “He never felt like I dressed correctly. He said I always dressed like I was either a blues singer going on stage or a poor little southern girl.” She glared up at Martin. “And I did and I do because that’s what I am.” She wiped away some tears. “I always felt like he didn’t think I was good enough.”

  Martin said, carefully, “I don’t believe that’s true. You were running a successful business when you met him and got married. You turned your business over to him to raise four successful children. You may not realize it, but you have been successful even when you’ve failed.”

  “Now that doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Ruth snapped.

  “But it does. You’ve been successful because when you’ve been knocked down, you’ve never stayed down.” He looked at her. “What I mean by appearance is everything is that you have an enemy who has knocked you down. You fought back and you have them on the run, but you must keep up the appearance of someone who is in control, someone who isn’t a victim.”

  “So you’re saying that I should go to the meeting because it shows the world that I’m still in the game.”

  “Not only in the game but still swinging.”

  She sighed loudly. “All right. I’ll go, but if Alice gives me any trouble, I might just lay down and die.”

  “Nonsense! You’ll eat her for breakfast.” He followed her into her dressing room. When she reached for a black suit, he said. “No black and no suit.”

  He opened another closet and pulled out a navy-blue dress with red piping and a red belt. “This is perfect for this type of meeting. Your red heels and navy purse will go well with it.”

  He left the room while she got dressed. “Okay, I’m dressed. So what do you suggest I do with my hair?”

  “Leave it down. It curls nicely around your face and gives you a more approachable look.”

  As he helped her on with her white coat, he said, “Square your shoulders. You’re no longer in mourning. This is the Ruth that ran away from home to become a successful blues singer. This is the Ruth who used her earnings to start, run and expand a successful business and to catch one of the most eligible bachelors in the world.”

  At his words, a thrill ran down her spine. He was right. It was time that she found herself again. Freddy treated her like the flower of English womanhood, but he was gone and she wasn’t a flower.”

  When she arrived at the city office building she walked over to Edith Southby “Ruth I didn’t expect you today. You’ve had so many problems lately.”

  “I think that this project of yours is a wonderful idea. Our service men have given their time and talents and some have made the ultimate sacrifice. I think we need to let them know we appreciate it.”

  “Are you sure you should be a part of this, Ruth. After all, if I were selling government secrets to the enemies of the men we’re celebrating, I’d stay home.” Alice Van Ostendorf’s smile was narrow and mean.”

  Ruth smiled sweetly as she thought You will not get away with putting me down—not now and not ever.

  “Dear Alice, I’m sure you don’t mean to be unkind,” Ruth drawled in her best Georgia accent. “Ah feel like Ah’ve done our government and our serviceman a huge service. Ah’ve taken an ax to the
tree of treason. The men who were behind the conspiracy are now safely in jail and Ah’ll make sure that they stay there, even if Ah have to testify before Congress.”

  “Brave words,” she sneered, but Ruth pretended she didn’t hear them as she turned to Elizabeth and Shirley. Shirley, I loved your idea about having a celebration at the airport. What do you think about using the armory to put on the fair? It’s big enough that we shouldn’t have trouble with the Fire Marshall telling us that we have too many people stuffed in it.”

  “I like it. We could have the rides outside. Most of them are covered if it gets rainy.”

  “I like it, too,” Elizabeth said. “We could have the dinner in the adjoining hanger.”

  “But I thought we figured that a full celebration would be more than our budget.”

  Ruth smiled. “I’ve been talking to several of the managers of restaurants that I inherited from by dear husband and they think it’s a wonderful idea. They will donate the food and the workers if we list them as sponsors on the program.”

  Edith said, “If you’ve got the food taken care of, then we could hire Suzanne Rowley as our event planner.”

  “You’ve forgotten the most important thing with your wonderful plans,” Alice said with a sneer. “What about the cost of renting the armory,”

  Ruth said, “Let me talk to General Thomas. I have a meeting with him this afternoon. He’s the four-star general from the Pentagon and is at the top of the army’s food chain. I think I can ask him in such a way that he’ll work with us on it.”

  Shirley said, “I’ll go ahead and call Suzanne. I gave her a heads up, but I told her that we might not have enough money.”

  As they were gathering up their notes, Alice said, “Ruth, have you gotten your granddaughter back?”

 

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