Fast Friends (Iris Thorne Mysteries Book 3)

by Dianne Emley

  “You can’t go on like this,” DeLacey warned. “What are you doing with your life, Paula?”

  “What I’ve always done, old man. Fucking it up.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Some of the members and guests of the Edward Club were having an informal lunch in the seventh-floor grill, some were squeezing in a workout in the fifth-floor gym, some were catching up with the daily papers in the second-floor library, and others were having a formal luncheon in the spacious third-floor dining room.

  That’s where Iris was seated with Herbert Dexter, the outgoing manager of the Los Angeles office, and his boss, Garland Hughes. They were at a table appointed with crisp white linen and sparkling crystal stemware, situated a discreet distance from the surrounding tables. Crystal chandeliers hung in a row down the length of the tall ceiling. Thick carpets and drapes muffled the diners’ voices, which tended toward the polite rather than the boisterous anyway.

  “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Iris,” Dexter said.

  “I am, thank you. Must have been a twenty-four-hour thing.”

  “If you hadn’t been in the pink by Friday, we would have delayed making the announcement,” Garland smiled. He raised his glass of mineral water. “But now it’s official. Congratulations, Iris Thorne, Manager of McKinney Alitzer’s Los Angeles office.”

  Dexter raised his glass of iced tea. “A well-deserved promotion. Best of luck.”

  Iris met the other glasses with hers of mineral water. She beamed. “Thank you. I won’t disappoint you.”

  Garland sliced into his lamb chop. “We have absolute confidence in you.”

  Dexter cut his New York strip steak. “Now that the promotion’s official, I did want to mention something that’s been floating around the office.” He laughed and shook his head. “It’s amazing how mean-spirited people can be. I’m only bringing it up, Iris, because I think you should be made aware of the existence of certain…saboteurs in the office.”

  Iris watched Dexter raptly, a forkful of her Cobb salad poised in midair. She became aware of her stiff pose, shoveled the salad into her mouth, and chewed. The Cobb might as well have been made of sawdust.

  Garland was nonchalantly making short work of his garlic mashed potatoes.

  “I heard that Amber Ambrose was going around the office saying that you and Garland are having an affair.” Even though he started laughing, he eyed them sharply, as if trying to see if there was truth to the rumor.

  Garland stopped chewing and glanced at Iris. She was trying not to gulp her water. Garland’s already animated blue eyes began to gleam even more, echoing Dexter’s amusement. “What in the world would possess her to say something like that?”

  Dexter adjusted his fingerprint-blotted tortoiseshell-framed glasses. “Story is that Amber saw you and Iris holding hands and kissing on the street right here in front of the Edward Club.”

  “Well, Iris and I always like to share a good-bye kiss after lunching at the old E.C.” He winked at Iris who was sitting stock still. “Don’t we, Iris?”

  “Of course.” She chuckled tensely.

  “I knew there was no truth to it,” Dexter said. “I’m surprised at Amber, frankly. I thought you and she were simpático, Iris.” The use of Spanish sounded stilted on his lips. “Well, sometimes people don’t like to see their peers move past them. They don’t say it’s lonely at the top for nothing. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation. It’s your ball now.”

  “And run with it she will,” Garland grinned.

  The table lurched just then, as if someone had bumped into it. After a short pause, it lurched again. Soon the building began to quiver, the shaking slowly escalating. Conversation and eating stopped as everyone held their breath. Strangers met other strangers’ eyes across the room and held their gaze, wondering if this person they’d never met before would now play a pivotal role in their destiny. Then it stopped. There was tense silence. Soon there was nervous laughter and animated talking.

  “I’m not going to miss those when I move back to the East Coast,” Dexter commented. “Or the fires or the mudslides or the droughts or the riots or the traffic or the smog. Have I left anything out?”

  Both Dexter and Garland chuckled with a hint of smugness.

  “Have you ever thought about leaving California, Iris?” Garland asked.

  She looked at him with surprise. “No.” Actually, she was grateful for the aftershock. It had changed the subject.

  They finished lunch and walked down to the garage.

  “I’ve got to leave for an appointment,” Dexter said. “Forgive me for dashing off.” A valet brought his Mercedes. He shouted from the window as he was leaving, “And no kissing on the sidewalk, you two.”

  They all laughed.

  “You heading back to the office?” Garland asked.

  She nodded. “I have to take care of a few things before the day’s over.”

  “Mind if I walk with you?”

  They left the quiet world of the Edward Club for the streets of downtown Los Angeles and began walking the several blocks to McKinney Alitzer.

  “Look,” Iris blurted. “That rumor is true. I did kiss you on the street. We were holding hands. I knew the rumor was going around the office but I didn’t say anything because I was hoping it would go away before it reached you or Dexter. I guess I should have said something.”

  Garland dismissed it. “It’s her word against yours and mine.”

  She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked at him. “I got the job because I’m the most qualified, didn’t I? I mean, you didn’t promote me thinking I’d sleep with you or something, did you?”

  “You, Iris Thorne, are the most qualified person for the job. I would never promote anyone to manage one of the firm’s largest offices if I did not have absolute confidence in them. I am running a business here.” He briskly rubbed his hand through his short hair, ruffling it. “Which doesn’t mean that I don’t find you very attractive.”

  She blushed but started talking quickly to disguise it. “We’d best put this incident behind us and make sure our relationship remains purely professional.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled at her crookedly. “At least for the month that I’m going to be your boss.”

  “Your deal came through? Congratulations!”

  “I’m going to be an entrepreneur for the first time in my life.” He seemed thoughtful. “Well, like I’ve always said, go big or go home.”

  “Didn’t you promise me dinner after all this came to pass?”

  “I never renege on a commitment. Certainly not one as delightful as that. How about four weeks from this Saturday? You’ll be in New York for your management training class.”

  “I’ll put it in my datebook in ink.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The next morning, Iris sat in her office and waited. Through the window that overlooked the suite, she could see Dexter’s secretary, Louise, soon to be her secretary, typing at her computer keyboard.

  Louise’s laser printer expelled a single sheet. She examined it and then took it into Dexter’s office.

  Dexter removed his Waterman pen from his breast pocket, uncapped it, and moved his hand below the line of his window, beyond Iris’s view. Louise, middle-aged and the secretary to the manager of the L.A. office for over twenty years, retrieved the sheet and blew on the wet signature as she efficiently walked to the employee lunchroom. Everything Louise did seemed to be efficient.

  Everyone else in the vicinity visually followed the route that Louise and the sheet of McKinney Alitzer stationery took through the suite. When she emerged from the lunchroom with the paper no longer in hand, the other employees found reasons to file into the lunchroom, one by one.

  Louise walked to Iris’s office and marched in with her hand outstretched. “Let me be the first to congratulate you. I couldn’t be happier.”

  Iris stood and returned her firm handshake. “Thank you.” She was relieved, afrai
d that Louise wouldn’t be thrilled with the change. She beamed.

  “You’ll do a lot of good here.” Louise looked around at Iris’s walls and furniture. “I understand you want to stay in this office and not take Herb’s.”

  “I like the view from here.”

  “You could do with some new furnishings. I’ll bring you some catalogs.”

  “This stuff’s fine. I didn’t pick it out but...”

  Louise leaned forward with her hand cupped to the side of her mouth. “Take it,” she whispered. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  Iris was flustered. “I can get my own, really.”

  “I don’t mind. How do you take it? Cream and sugar?”

  “Black.”

  “That’s easy.”

  Iris knew it would be impossible for her to concentrate long enough to get any work done today. The problem was, now that she was in charge, she had to work harder than ever. Tomorrow. Right now, she spread some additional papers and files across her desk. Making sure no one was watching, she stealthily pulled the daily newspaper from her briefcase, folded it so the article she wanted to read faced her, pulled open a drawer on the side of her desk, and set the newspaper on top. Now she could read the paper without any passersby detecting what she was doing.

  CANDIDATE’S SISTER SOUGHT

  The soap-opera campaign between twelve-year incumbent Gilbert Alvarez and challenger Thomas Gaytan DeLacey for the 14th District City Council seat has taken yet another twist. Gaytan DeLacey’s sister Paula Molina is being sought by the police after having threatened physician Everett C. Vanderstaad, her father William DeLacey, and her brother William DeLacey Jr. with a handgun at Vanderstaad’s office in the El Sereno neighborhood of Los Angeles yesterday afternoon. There were no injuries.

  Molina is already being sought for questioning in the shooting death of a Pearblossom man at a Santa Monica condominium two days ago.

  Oh Paula, what did you do? Suddenly considering yet another problem, Iris quickly scanned the article again. She breathed a sigh of relief. It didn’t mention her name.

  Kyle Tucker appeared in Iris’s doorway, his elastic lips stretched into a broad, toothless grin that rolled like an agitated sea.

  She quickly dropped the newspaper on the floor beneath her desk, closed the drawer, and picked up one of the file folders.

  He scrutinized her, making no effort at decorum.

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s with you?”

  “Just seeing if it’s changed you.”

  “You’ll soon know.”

  He entered her office with his hand outstretched. “Congratulations, boss.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m always happy to find out I’ve been brown-nosing the right people.”

  “Your broker’s instinct was correct.” She jerked her head toward the suite. “How’s the temperature out there?”

  He shrugged. “Hey, who cares? They don’t shape up, you can fire their asses.”

  She became thoughtful. “Kyle, that’s an excellent morale booster. My first official act will be to post a notice in the lunchroom: ‘The beatings will continue until morale improves.’“ She sniffed, “Signed, Iris A. Thorne, Empress.”

  “And they were worried it would go to your head.” He winked at her and left.

  A stream of well-wishers followed Kyle. Amber Ambrose was not among them.

  The receptionist in the lobby buzzed her. Iris picked up the phone and realized Louise was already on the line.

  “I changed your extension so it’ll ring on mine, too,” Louise said. “There’re two men here to see you, Gil Alvarez and Ron Cole. They don’t have an appointment. Isn’t Mr. Alvarez running for City Council?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to see them?”

  Iris exhaled with fatigue. “Sure.”

  “I can tell them you’re busy. Herb does have meetings scheduled for you.”

  Iris pondered her offer. “Okay. Please do that.”

  After a few seconds, she heard a commotion in the lobby. She got up, closed and locked her door, then closed the blinds on the window that overlooked the suite. She leaned her ear against the door. There was angry shouting. After a few minutes, her telephone rang. It was Louise.

  “They’re gone. They were quite disagreeable. I had to call security.”

  “Thanks, Louise.” Iris sat quietly at her desk, waiting. For what, she wasn’t certain. It just seemed to be shaping up to be that kind of a day. She didn’t have to wait long. When the phone rang again, she didn’t answer it. Momentarily, Louise buzzed her.

  “Would you like to take a call from Thomas Gaytan DeLacey?”

  “Sure.”

  Thomas came on the line. “Hi, sweetness.”

  “Hello.”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Honey, I’m sorry for the way I acted. I was wrong. Can you forgive me?”

  “Maybe.”

  He fell silent. Finally, he said, “I don’t blame you. I was rotten to you the other night. I’m sorry. I’m under a lot of pressure.”

  “I know.”

  “Look, sweetheart, no one can expect to build a relationship in the middle of a political campaign. I’d like to give us another chance after everything settles down.” He paused. “Would you?”

  “Maybe,” she said hesitantly.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that.” He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “If we’re going to make it, we have to stick together. We have to be a team. Don’t you agree?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then let’s act like a team. Please come to the debate tonight. I’ll call you to the podium and you’ll tell everyone how you saw Alvarez and his partner beat Humberto. Then it’ll be over. This terrible secret that you’ve had to live with for so long will be out. You’ll finally be able to put those demons to rest. You’ll be free.”

  “What about when Alvarez uses the opportunity to bring up your grandfather’s will?”

  “Just deny you ever saw the will. Easy.”

  “Thomas, I told you before that I’m prepared to talk about Humberto’s beating but not at the debate. It’s inappropriate. And I won’t lie about the will.”

  His response was fast and clipped and unlike the warmth he’d expressed moments before. “Iris, you’ve started something that you’re not prepared to finish. I thought you had more guts than that. I guess I was wrong about you.”

  “You’re going to have to do better than that, Thomas. Maybe you’re not as good a politician as you think you are.”

  “I can’t figure you out. You bend over backward for someone like my sister, but you…Do you know that Paula wants to kill me? My father told me she made threats against me at that doctor’s office yesterday. I never did anything to her. I never did anything to you either but you won’t back me up. Everyone wants to drag me down. If people only understood—”

  “Stop whining.” Iris hung up on him.

  She was agitatedly drumming her fingers against her desk, thinking about how close she’d come to getting serious with Thomas, when Louise buzzed her. “It’s Mr. Gaytan DeLacey again.”

  “Please tell him I’m in a meeting.” Iris settled back in her chair and contemplated her newly discovered executive power: inaccessibility. She liked it. There were people standing between her and the world, headed by the impenetrable Louise. After all, she had things to do. She didn’t have time to be bothered by just anyone. Problem was, she couldn’t stay in the protection of the office building forever.

  At 2:00, Iris had a security guard escort her to the Triumph. She had parked it where she always did, in a remote corner of the parking structure where its doors were safe from dings.

  The guard waited until she got inside and started the engine.

  “Guess you’ll be okay now,” he said.

  “Can you please wait a couple more minutes until the engine warms up? This car won’t move unless it’s warm.
”

  He hesitated. “Ma’am, I’ve got to get back to the desk. The other guy went home early and there’s no one up there. You said you have a cell phone.”

  “I do. You’re right. Thanks.” She watched his departure in her rearview mirror.

  She adjusted the Triumph’s choke and pressed the accelerator slightly. The temperature gauge still registered cold. She turned the radio on, but thought better of it and turned it off. She took her cellular phone from her purse and set it on the passenger seat. Finally, the needle on the temperature gauge registered just to the right of cold. The engine wasn’t warm, but it would run. She threw the transmission into reverse and started to back up.

  The car wouldn’t move.

  She tried again.

  The rear wheels whizzed against the concrete as they futilely spun.

  “Dammit.”

  She got out and looked at the car. A locking device used by the police to immobilize cars that were about to be towed had been clamped onto her left front tire. She rattled the bright orange metal lock, kicked it, then noticed a folded scrap of paper on her windshield.

  “Iris, take a cab to my office. I’ll give you the key to the wheel lock after we chat. Gil Alvarez.”

  “Screw you!” She angrily crumpled the paper and threw it on the ground.

  She cut the Triumph’s engine, grabbed her purse and cellular phone, locked the car, and walked to the bank of two elevators. She pressed the call button and stood with her back to the door and impatiently waited. She dug inside her purse to see if she could find any weapons.

  “Wish I’d bought that pepper spray.”

  Her keys were the best she could find. So she waited, armed to the teeth with her Coach handbag over her shoulder, her cellular phone in one hand and her keys in the other.

  Then the car came by.