Bad Publicity

by Joanne Sydney Lessner

  “A what?”

  “She was here for a meeting. Apparently, the merger is back on. Or was—or—actually, I don’t know what’s going on anymore. But one minute she was fine, and the next minute she had a seizure and passed out.”

  James stood up and paced toward the window, momentarily forgetting that he was on a corded phone. It tumbled off his desk with a clatter, and he scrambled to pick it up.

  He sat down again. “Are you still there?”

  “I’m here. Can you think of any reason that would happen to her?”

  “She’s strong as an ox. A crappy cook, but a healthy eater. And she’s a workout fiend.” He reflected briefly on Jayla’s taut abs and molded upper arms, then pulled his focus back to Isobel. “She didn’t take medication for anything that I know of. Just some herbal shit.”

  “Could she have had a bad reaction to that?” Isobel asked.

  “I don’t know. Is she okay?”

  “The paramedics took her to the ER. And then the cops showed up. It was the same two again, O’Connor and Aguilar. And I showed them—”

  James felt his throat tighten. “Showed them what?”

  “Jayla had been drinking coffee. The cup went flying when she fell. I saved it and gave it to them.”

  He didn’t know what he’d been afraid Isobel might say, but he was relieved it had nothing to do with her.

  “And then they bagged my coffee cup,” she continued.

  So much for that.

  “Why did they take yours?”

  “I don’t know, but they were identical. Maybe they’re thinking that Jayla accidentally picked up my cup, and that was the one she was holding when she passed out. So if her coffee had been poisoned, it was still sitting on my desk.”

  James picked up the nameplate from his desk and ran his sleeve over it nervously. “It’s time we got you out of there.”

  “Why?”

  “Are you serious? What if you’re right and Jayla’s coffee was poisoned? You could have picked up her cup by mistake!”

  There was silence for a moment at the other end. “I like it when you worry about me. It’s sweet.”

  “Dammit, Isobel, I’m serious!”

  “I worry about you, too, you know.”

  That brought him up short. “Worry about me how?”

  There was another moment of silence, and when Isobel spoke again, she sounded hurt.

  “I didn’t expect you to thank me, but I hoped you might have the decency to let me know you were okay.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, exasperated.

  “You know, the other night.”

  A little warning bell went off in his brain, and he felt his mouth go dry. “What other night?”

  “Were you so far gone that you don’t remember me force-feeding you Advil and putting a washcloth on your forehead?”

  He swallowed. “That was you?”

  “For God’s sake, James, who else would it be?”

  As she said it, he realized his mistake. He also sensed, from her sharp intake of breath, that she’d just answered her own question.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I thought it was…”

  “Lily. I get it. It’s fine. I don’t know why you don’t just admit there’s something going on between you two.”

  “That’s not it! I saw her the next day, and my memory was so vague—”

  “Vague?” she spat. “You grabbed my hand and begged me not to leave you.”

  He didn’t dare admit that he had no memory of that at all. “When I saw Lily on the street the next morning, something she said led me to believe it was her.”

  “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

  He rubbed his eyes, trying to work it through. “You came all the way up to Harlem to see me? How did you know where I lived?”

  “I looked you up. And I was already up there, rehearsing with Hugh.”

  James felt an unaccountable flash of irritation. “So you thought you’d just check up on me?”

  “No! I tried to call you to apologize for not believing you about Katrina and Jason, okay? And when you didn’t answer, I got worried. With good reason, as it turns out!”

  No wonder Lily had looked at him oddly. But she had apologized. For what, then? She must have been talking about the night she intruded on his conversation with Isobel and Hugh. What had he said to her? He tried to remember. That it was fine. They were cool. Great. He’d essentially given Lily permission to continue stalking him. And on top of that, he was now doubly indebted to Isobel. It was bad enough that he owed her for helping him. Now he had to find a way to soothe her ego for not remembering, or at least not being smart enough to figure it out.

  “I should have known it was you. I’m sorry,” he said finally. “But one of the reasons I broke up with Jayla is that she couldn’t resist jumping in and saving me all the time. I have to work this stuff out for myself.”

  “And what happens when you wind up in the hospital because you’re too far gone to save yourself? You don’t get points for doing this alone, James. You get points for staying alive.”

  “Okay, we’re done with this topic,” he snapped.

  “Fine. I have to get back to work anyway,” she said. “You know, considering that Jayla looked after you so well, you might find it in your heart to make sure she’s okay.”

  “Jesus! You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

  “Oh, you think?”

  The line went dead.

  James threw down the receiver and pushed away from his desk. Pacing his tiny office, he threw a few boxing punches, punctuating them with grunts of fury. Then he grabbed his empty soda can, angry that it was Coke and not beer, crumpled it, and threw it at his computer. It ricocheted off and landed on a stack of papers, where it dripped sugary syrup onto a form he would now have to reprint. With a cry of frustration, he swept the papers to the floor. There was a tentative rap on his door.

  “You okay in here?” Anna looked in. “No, don’t answer that. I can tell you’re not. What’s up?”

  He tried to answer without taking her head off. “Nothing. A personal matter.”

  “Why don’t you take a walk? Get some air.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks.”

  She withdrew, and James sank back into his chair. In fact, he didn’t want to leave the office. Here, he was safe. He didn’t have any alcohol stashed away, and with any luck, he could find something to distract him from this ridiculous situation with Isobel and Lily. He was always most vulnerable to relapse when he was upset, so the trick was to push through it. The only things that ever helped were working out and working. He wiped his forehead, straightened his nameplate, and picked up the stack of papers from the floor. Isobel’s interim assessment form for Dove & Flight had landed on top. He shuffled the tangible evidence of her existence to the bottom of the pile and pushed her image firmly from his mind.

  THIRTY-NINE

  The only thing more infuriating than James not remembering she’d been at his apartment was his mistaking her for somebody else. And that obnoxious little gym rat, of all people! Isobel plunged her fists into her eyes to keep from crying, but succeeded only in smearing her eye shadow.

  She had gone over there on impulse, and now she regretted it. While there had been nothing attractive about James in the state in which she’d found him, she had to admit that when he’d asked her to stay, she had felt a rush of affection. But it appeared he thought he was asking Lily to stay. She took a tissue from the box on the desk in Kit’s empty office, where she’d taken refuge, and blew her nose with enough force to stop up her ears. She tried to lob the tissue into the garbage can by the door and missed. With a self-pitying sigh, she got up from behind the desk and went to retrieve it. Kit’s raincoat was still hanging on the door. It was a nice-looking coat.

  Finders, keepers, thought Isobel. I could use a decent raincoat.

  She pulled the black and tan coat off the hook and tried i
t on. There was no mirror, but it certainly felt like it fit, though it was a little on the long side. She stuck her hands in the pockets and whirled around. The left pocket was empty, but the right held several pieces of paper. Isobel pulled them out. There were several business cards, a grocery list, a letter on school stationery folded in quarters, and a piece of crumpled blue notepaper. Isobel uncrumpled it.

  Craig asked me point-blank, so I told him. I think this evens the score, don’t you?

  Jason

  Isobel perched on the edge of the desk and unfolded the school letter. It was addressed to Kit and Craig Blanchard, thanking them for their donation of $1,000 to the PTA. So Craig was her husband. Jason must have told him that she was hitting on him. Maybe he’d also told Craig about her flirtation with Aaron. No wonder Kit was furious when she showed up at his apartment. But what had Kit done to Jason that had required score-settling? Was it simply that she’d made a pass at him, or was there something else?

  One question answered, another raised, thought Isobel, as she changed her mind and hung the coat back up. It would be difficult to pursue any avenue of inquiry regarding Kit now that she was gone. Unless someone else could be convinced to pursue it for her. She pocketed the blue notepaper and returned to her desk.

  Aguilar was packing up his fingerprint kit.

  “Just out of curiosity, did anyone refuse?” she asked.

  He gave a noncommittal grunt in response and joined O’Connor, who was standing by the exit door. O’Connor caught Isobel’s eye and waved her over.

  “As an outsider in the firm, and an observant one at that, you’ve probably picked up on some tensions regarding this merger I’ve been hearing about,” he said in a quiet voice. “Is there anything you’ve noticed that you might want to pass along?”

  Isobel regarded him warily. “Are you actually soliciting my opinion?”

  He allowed himself a small smile. “What does your instinct tell you?”

  “My instinct tells me that someone tried to poison Jayla with whatever was left of Angus’s digoxin.”

  “Go on.”

  Isobel took a deep breath. “The person who most vehemently opposed the merger is dead. So unless Angus is reaching out from beyond the grave, or somehow left instructions for an accomplice to see it through, there’s got to be someone else who is willing to go to any length to make sure the merger doesn’t happen. Someone who has something big to gain or lose, which may or may not be directly connected to the business end of it.”

  “Sounds to me like you’re thinking of someone in particular,” O’Connor said.

  “There is someone, although it doesn’t quite square with what happened to Jayla today.”

  She told them about Kit’s attempt to sabotage the merger and her nocturnal visit to Jason’s. O’Connor read the crumpled blue paper with interest and pocketed it.

  “You’re right, it doesn’t allow for what happened today. Could she have had an accomplice?”

  Isobel hesitated. “There’s Aaron, but he was so furious with her for betraying his confidence that I just don’t see him helping her again. I think it’s fair to say that he’s, um, exorcised her.”

  O’Connor glanced at Aguilar. “We’ll follow up on it all the same. Now, is there anyone else you can think of who wanted this merger stopped to that degree?”

  Katrina. It was time to tell them about Katrina.

  “No one.”

  O’Connor nodded. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

  She watched them leave and wondered if she’d made a mistake in not sharing her suspicions. She had a flash of standing on an island beach, watching the last ferry of the day depart for the mainland, but she shook off the image and trudged upstairs to find Jimmy.

  His brow puckered as she approached his desk.

  “You told them about the Demerol,” he said in a voice that was more sad than accusatory.

  She held out her hands in a helpless gesture. “I had to.”

  “They won’t find anything on me. I gave them the name of my doctor. He’ll tell them I’ve never had an injectable. I don’t even think that’s something you prescribe.”

  She drew closer to him. “Jimmy, I need to know what’s going to happen to every single person here when the ICG merger goes through.”

  A flicker of concern crossed his face and he shook his head. “Barnaby hasn’t said anything to me about that. I’m not sure he knows yet. It’s something that would be hammered out afterwards by the bigwigs. And it might not necessarily happen right away.”

  “But certain jobs would be eliminated, right? Certain functions would be made redundant?”

  “Yes, definitely.”

  “Is there any way you can find out what Barnaby’s thinking in that direction?”

  “Short of asking him point-blank? No.”

  “Can’t you ask him?”

  Jimmy clenched his fist under his chin in full “Thinker” position. Isobel couldn’t help but notice his well-defined biceps stretching the unseasonably thin material of his T-shirt.

  “For you, madam, I will endeavor to adopt a ruse so impenetrable that he will ne’er discover my true intent.”

  It was a relief to have the old, anachronistically bantering Jimmy back, if just for a moment. She dropped a curtsy to show her appreciation.

  “Thank you, good knight.”

  He pointed to the clock on the wall. “You might well say good night!”

  Barnaby’s door burst open and the big man’s head appeared in it.

  “Jimmy!”

  With a wink at Isobel, he vanished into Barnaby’s office.

  It was almost five o’clock and she was due at Hugh’s studio at seven to rehearse. She took care going down the spiral staircase, which always gave her a touch of vertigo. Aaron was coming out of the kitchen as she passed by.

  “Dorothy is looking for you,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  She knocked gently on Dorothy’s door. She was at her desk, and Katrina and Penny were standing in front of one of the bookcases.

  “Oh, Isobel! I was afraid you’d left.” A look of relief washed over Dorothy’s face. “We’ve had a disaster. Schüssler wants a complete redo of the annual report and they go to press with it tomorrow.”

  “What? But why? It was all fine yesterday!”

  Dorothy shook her head impatiently. “I thought so, too. But while all that craziness with Jayla was going on this morning, they emailed me. I didn’t see it until just now. Apparently, somebody over there messed up royally. They accidentally sent us the Word file from last year’s report. We have to do the whole thing over.”

  “You have got to be kidding!” Isobel glanced at Katrina, whose mouth was set in a humorless line. “And nobody noticed?”

  “We didn’t have the account last year,” Katrina said. “There’s no way we could have known.”

  “Not to mention the fact that we don’t speak German,” Penny said.

  “If it was their screwup, they should move the deadline,” Isobel said.

  Dorothy’s eyebrows shot up. “If you want to run that one past Barnaby, go right ahead.”

  Isobel sighed. “So what do we do?”

  “We pull a rabbit out of a hat, that’s what. Can you stay tonight until we can get it done?”

  Isobel held out her hands helplessly. “I can’t. I have a rehearsal at seven.”

  Dorothy rapped a pen on her blotter. “What time will you be done?”

  “Probably around nine.”

  “Would you be willing to come back when you’re finished?” Dorothy asked. “You’ll get paid overtime.”

  Ka-ching, thought Isobel.

  “Sure, I can do that.”

  “Great.” Dorothy handed Penny some papers. “Can you get started on the charts at the back of the book? Make sure the numbers match up.” She handed Katrina a second batch. “You can work on inputting the text in German. We’ll have to be doubly careful not to make any mistakes, since at this point,
we have to do all the data entry ourselves. If we can assure them it’s all correct, they’ll deal with the layout tomorrow morning, Frankfurt time.” Dorothy leaned back and surveyed her team. “This is how we earn our PR stripes. It’ll be fun, in a trench-warfare kind of way.”

  Isobel groaned inwardly and followed Penny and Katrina out.

  “How often does this kind of thing happen?” Isobel asked.

  “More often than it should. Damn, I was really hoping to get out of here,” said Katrina. “I’ve had just about enough of this place.”

  “Me, too,” Penny said. “I can’t get that image of Jayla writhing on the floor out of my head.” She gave a little shiver and left them.

  “Here.” Isobel held out her hand to Katrina. “I can help you out before I leave.”

  “Thanks.” Katrina peeled off a few pages and passed them over.

  Isobel glanced down at the endless, multi-syllabic German words. “This is going to take all night.”

  “At least you get overtime,” Katrina said and stomped off.

  And for once, Isobel had to admit she had the advantage over her friend.

  FORTY

  By the time Isobel arrived at Hugh’s, Sunil was already there. He answered the door singing, and she waved a hello to Hugh before settling on the couch to listen. As Sunil finished the last, yearning phrase of his love ballad, she wondered if his mind was turning to Delphi. He held Isobel’s gaze an extra moment, then broke the mood and flashed an impish smile as if to dispel any fear that he might be pining in real life.

  “That was perfect,” said Hugh. “Hello, Isobel.”

  “Hi, guys. Listen, I know I’m a little late, but I can only stay until nine. I have to go back to my office to work on a last-minute project.”

  “Given everything that’s happened there recently, do you think it’s a good idea?” Sunil asked.

  Hugh looked from Sunil to Isobel. “What’s happened there recently?”

  Isobel waved him off. “Nothing, really.”

  “Only a few mysterious deaths,” said Sunil.