Though I was the boss and could simply sit in the cab and not lift any of the concrete, Lyle and I took turns operating the Bobcat and guiding, sometimes shoveling the large chunks into the front bucket. I didn't do this because I was such a good boss, I did it so I would exhaust myself and sleep tonight instead of pacing the floor wondering who killed Gary and if Adam would ever want to get back together with me.
Just a few more loads from the far end of the patio and we'd be done. I lowered the bucket and inched toward the location where Lyle pointed. Success. Full of debris, I raised the lever and drove to the dumpster parked at the end of the driveway. Lift, dump, retreat. I'd done it many times today and many times in life.
When I returned to the backyard, I found Lyle, jabbing a pitchfork at something reflective in the soil. He looked at me and shouted words I couldn't make out. An excited look on his face, he motioned for me to join him.
As fast as my strained muscles allowed, I shut down the Bobcat and rushed his way.
"Look!" He pointed at a box that he'd partially uncovered. "You think it's buried treasure?"
I laughed at his excitement but thought that maybe it was treasure of another sort. Treasure that might be the reason Gary was killed. "Quick. Dig it out."
Lyle attacked the soil like a dog after a buried bone. In moments, he had freed the box and set it on the grass. "Doesn't look big enough for a lot of treasure." He grinned and dropped to his knees. With a sledgehammer we'd used to pulverize some of the concrete, he pounded the lock until he'd opened it.
Our booty consisted of a ream or so of papers encased in clear plastic.
"Man," Lyle moaned. "So much for getting rich."
"Why don't you take a quick break while I look at this?"
He nodded and went to a drink station I'd set up in the shade of a large Oregon white oak. I knelt by the bag and gently opened it. The documents were financial statements and a pile of check stubs from the Texas Pacific Pickles factory. I quickly scanned the documents and was surprised at how much money the pickle business generated. The pages held no glaring abnormality, but I was certain Gary had buried this box before pouring the patio. And I was also certain the box contained the identity of the killer. I simply had to study the pages until I figured it out.
But first, I'd complete the last few loads of concrete so I could send Lyle on his way and phone to have the dumpster picked up. Then I'd take the box inside and have a nice long look. I called Lyle back to the job, and we made short work of hefting the final chunks of concrete out of the pit. After depositing the load in the dumpster, I sent him off with a cash payment and huge smile.
Box under my arm, I dug out the key Yolanda gave me and went into the kitchen. So as not to damage the pages, I made a quick trip to the restroom to wash up. On my way back, I grabbed a glass of water and sat at the round oak table. Before I'd opened The Garden Gate, I'd taken a course at PCC on business management. I knew how to read financial statements, but the reason Gary kept these reports didn't immediately jump off the pages at me.
The box contained six months of statements and an inch thick stack of check stubs. I spread them across the table by month and painstakingly compared each stub to the journal entries. The entries all had one thing in common and it was time to contact a source who could help me understand what it meant.
I pulled out my cell and dialed. "Hi, Irene, this's Paige. I've got a quick question for you." I didn't wait for a response. "Do you know how to read your company's financial statements?"
"Somewhat, why?"
"I'm looking at reports for the Texas plant." I rattled off the specific months and year. "I'm assuming this is the time frame Gary worked at the plant."
"Yes. He didn't move here until six months after your last report."
Okay, so we know Gary had been at the plant when these reports were generated, but what did he have to do with them? "Behind the journal entries are what look like initials. Some entries have one set, some have two and others have three. What are these for?"
"The first one shows the clerk who recorded the entry. The second one is needed if the payment exceeds a thousand dollars. There's a graduated scale of approval levels. The higher the expenditure the higher the approval level."
I ran my finger down a list of entries associated with the check stubs. "So where I see FAW/GCB/CAL, could the second set of initials be for Gary Buzzy and the third Cara Long?"
"Yes to the Gary question and I don't know Cara's middle name."
"Ahh, but you work in personnel. Can you look it up?"
I heard fingers tapping on a keyboard. "Anne. And before you ask, she is the only current employee with those initials. It will take me a while to figure out if there was another person with the same initials when these reports were generated."
"How about Nathan Jacobs?"
More clicking. "Robert."
NRJ. CAL/NRJ appeared occasionally. I still couldn’t understand what all of this meant, but there finally seemed to be a connection between Nathan and Gary. A connection I would sink my teeth into as soon as I found something worth biting into.
"You never told me which department Cara Long was the VP of," I said.
"Didn't I? Sorry. Operations."
"And do you know which departments reported to her?"
"No. I'd have to find an org chart for that period to get specifics."
"Can you do that for me?"
"Where's this going, Paige?" Her tone had grown agitated.
I didn't want her to charge off like a loose cannon so I downplayed my growing excitement. "Honestly I don't know right now, but I'll call you back when I do, or if I have more questions."
"Before you go I wanted to see if you got the email of Cara's itinerary I sent to you."
"I haven't checked my email. Anything you think I need to know about?"
"Just that her assistant said Cara had stuck to the schedule all week but hasn't checked in with her since the funeral. She was supposed to be in a meeting right now, but she's not there. She's scheduled to fly out at eight o'clock tonight."
"Any thoughts on where she might be?"
Irene laughed. "I hate to admit it, but you've turned me into an investigator. When I saw Cara talking to Nathan at the funeral, I got to thinking they seemed awful chummy. So I called Nathan's admin and she told me he didn't come back either."
Ahh, the plot sickens and so does my stomach at the thought of any woman wanting to be with Nathan. "Sounds like they might be involved. Keep me informed if anything else happens." I disconnected and, excited that the two of them may have a personal connection as well as the one glaring off the pages at me, I turned back to my study of the reports.
I turned over a page and jotted down all of the check stubs. Then ran my finger down the pages and noted the approval initials next to the check entry. After many false attempts, I found three ten thousand dollar entries each month with the GRB/NRJ/CAL combination paid to three different vendors.
I sat back and stabbed my finger at redial. "Paige, again. Do you know what month Gary and Cara broke up?"
"I sure do. December."
"You seem positive. How can you remember something like that?"
"Easy. Their break up came at the same time as huge cutbacks at that plant. I remember processing all the paperwork for the severance packages and thinking how horrible it must be to lose your job at Christmas time."
So they broke up a month after the last report sitting before me. Was that a coincidence or was there a connection? A connection like the trio was embezzling money. Maybe their greedy little fingers led to the plant cutbacks and drew attention to their scheme. Maybe that's why Gary and Cara broke up and maybe this was the reason for Gary's murder. But why wait to kill him now for something that happened three plus years ago?
"Paige, are you still there?"
"Sorry, I was just thinking. Did Cara ever call Gary?"
"Sure, he offered advice on personnel issues at all the plants."
&nb
sp; "Nothing more than that, though. Like a sudden surge of calls?"
"Not here at work."
"Can you give me the phone number for the Texas plant?"
She rattled it off. I jotted it down.
"What about her cell and home number are they in the records, too?"
"Yes," she answered sounding apprehensive in giving me this personal information.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to call her. I just want to see if she called Gary."
"Fine," she said and gave me the numbers.
After scribbling them on the paper, I offered my thanks and disconnected. On my feet, I headed for the Buzzys' office to look for phone records. If I could prove that the two of them had been communicating recently, I might be able to get Cara to talk to me before she left town. I started in the middle drawer where Yolanda said I'd find financial information.
Gary was as organized as Lisa in his recordkeeping. I flipped through folders with crisp headings generated by a label maker. He'd created folders for each month of the year with paid bills filling the files. I paged through the last six months and found no record of calls from the factory or from Cara's phone. If only I had his computer, I could check for email communication. Another dead end.
While I was in here, I might as well look for payments to Dr. Morris. After finding nothing in the monthly files, I rifled through folders until I found financial records similar in format to the corporate records sitting on the kitchen table. Gary used a computer financial program to keep his home finances in order.
Drat. If I hadn't given the flash drive to Mitch, I could have accessed his computer program and searched for information. The old-fashioned paper reports would have to do. I'd start with this month and work backwards.
There they were. Payments to the good doctor for services rendered. She was on the up and up and as a suspect, she was on her way out.
Maybe my theory about embezzling was the clue. If Gary had been stealing, there would be record of deposits to his accounts. But did the records go that far back? I eagerly searched through the folder, but came up empty. I pillaged the remaining files, no reports.
Down and discouraged, I went back to the kitchen to pack up the reports and go home. I'd stop by Lisa's house on the way and have her and Perry look at the records to see if they could find whatever I was missing.
I opened the box and started loading up the records. "You were killed over this I know it," I said as if Gary hovered above me and could point the way to his killer. "And I'll prove it if it's the last thing I do."
"I don't imagine it'll be the last thing you do, but close enough." The menacing voice came from the corner of the room.
I whipped around spilling pages and stubs onto the tile floor. My eyes widened, and I gasped. The gun pointed at me was very real, and an overwhelming sense of dread crawling up from the pit of my stomach warned me that this just might be the last thing I did.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
"Olivia," I said in a whisper as my mind processed the gun in her hand. Her eyes were wild and glazed.
"Surprised?" she asked.
"Yes," I said and tried to wrap my head around this. "You killed, Gary?"
She nodded though it was barely perceptible. "I didn't want to, but he didn’t leave me any choice. Just like you're not leaving me any choice."
I ignored her threat and let my mind race over the pages scattered on the floor. What could Olivia have to do with this? "Why would you kill Gary?"
"The money, of course," she said as if I only a fool couldn't figure this out.
"The money Gary embezzled from Pacific Pickles?" I asked to confirm we were talking about the same thing.
"Gary, Cara and Nathan, you mean." She sneered.
"So why was Gary the one who had to die?" I asked, surprised at how calm my voice sounded when my heart was thumping wildly.
"He brought it on himself," she said as if he deserved to die. "Everything was fine until he got all religious. He tried to forget all about the money, but he couldn't." She laughed. "He even thought if he buried the proof under the patio his conscience would rest easy. It didn't. His god nagged and nagged at him until he decided to go to the police and report the theft. I asked Nate to take care of Gary so he didn’t wind up in jail, but he was too weak."
What? She wanted to keep Nathan out of jail? "I would think you'd want Nathan to go to jail."
"You ever hear of a little thing called restitution?" Her sarcasm was fitting for the Olivia I was just coming to know. "If he was convicted of embezzlement, he'd have to pay back all the money. Money I deserved for putting up with his infidelity and philandering ways for all these years."
Incredulous, I stared at her. "And the beatings? That didn’t bother you?"
She looked me square in the eye. "Nate never beat me."
My mouth fell open. "But I saw your bruises."
She laughed. "Courtesy of a fling I had on the side that got a little too amorous."
"But we all saw him hauling you around by the wrist at the funeral as if you were his property."
"Oh, that." She waved a hand. "He didn't want me talking to anyone. He was worried I'd tell them I'd cheated on him." She laughed again. "Yep, that's the big strong man I married. He'd rather have everyone think he beats me than to think I cheated."
I had little experience with men and didn’t understand their egos. And clearly, I'd been all wrong about Nathan. Olivia, too, for that matter. "You didn’t strike me as someone capable of murder."
"I didn’t know I had it in me either. I tried to reason with Gary, but when he refused to keep this quiet, I wasn't going to let all that money slip between my fingers." A self-satisfied smile claimed her lips.
"So you picked him up at work and took him to the woods to kill him."
"Not to kill him. To talk to him in a place we wouldn’t be seen. But when he said he was going home that afternoon to dig up this box and take it to the police, I had to stop him. So I grabbed that log and hit him."
With the look in her eyes right now, I could just see her in a rage, holding the log and pummeling Gary.
"Now," she said and jerked her head at the pages on the floor. "If you'd be so kind as to gather all the pages together and put them in the box, we can make this short and sweet and I can get out of here."
I snorted. That's what she thought. Killing me was not going to be short or sweet if I could help it. I wanted to keep questioning her about Gary but coming up with a way to escape was more important right now. To buy time to think of a way out, I turned my back on her and shuffled papers in exaggerated movements so she thought I was complying.
No one knew I was still here, so somehow I had to alert someone to my location. My cell sat on the table where I'd placed it after the conversation with Irene. As I grabbed a month's records with one hand, I poked speed dial for Mitch and watched the display until the call connected. I'd never been so happy for Mitch's commandeering ways than I was now. I owed him a big thank you for programming my cell.
I saw the call connect on my screen. Before Mitch spoke and Olivia heard him, I bent over as if to reach for another month and hit the speaker button. "So Olivia. Before you shoot me, you have to tell me. How did you know I was at the Buzzys' house so you could come over here to kill me?"
She laughed. "You told me where you'd be."
I spun around. "Me? I told you I'd be at the Buzzys'?" I had to say my location one more time for good measure.
"At the funeral. I heard you tell your friend that you'd be loading up the patio concrete this afternoon." She grinned. "I just had to wait until your worker left and you were all alone."
"Tell me," I said. "Does Nathan know you killed Gary?"
"No. And once I take care of you, Nate will never need to know." Her tone was cold and calculating.
I had underestimated this woman. She was a killer and she seemed to have no remorse. Obviously, when the two were put together, it resulted in a deadly combination. Just like mixing ble
ach with vinegar that gave off a toxic vapor. But this one's smell hadn't saturated my nose yet. I still had time if I kept her talking.
I squatted down and started shuffling papers. "How did Nathan steal the money?"
"It was simple. He set up accounts for bogus companies with bogus P.O. boxes and then started paying them. Then he went to the post office, picked up the checks and deposited them into an account."
"But didn't others at the company notice? I mean, they must've had reports that department heads would question."
"That was Nate's job. As the accounting manager he could alter the books so no one questioned it." She jerked the gun at me. "Enough of this yapping. Hurry up with those pages."
I didn't pick up speed but continued retrieving pages at a steady pace until I was out of paper. I stood and returned to the table. I noted my phone call was still in progress. Mitch was listening. I had to get Olivia to say what she planned to do with me in case we were gone by the time Mitch got here.
"Once I get this all packed up what happens next?"
She laughed like Snidely Whiplash strapping Nell to the railroad tracks. "Asking about it won't change my mind, Paige. I am going to kill you. Make no mistake about that."
"But not at the Buzzys' house, right? People know where I spent my afternoon. If I disappear they'll start the investigation here and follow the evidence trail right to you." Was I nuts? Helping my killer plan my murder was proof positive I'd gone over the edge.
"We'll be taking a trip up to Piney Ridge."
"Piney Ridge," I shouted as if surprised, but I really wanted to make sure Mitch heard where I would be taken.
"Yes. You're going to go hiking and have a little accident." Her tone sent shivers over my body. "Now pick up that box and move. We'll take your car."
I'd run out of time and could do nothing but head for my car. I dragged my feet but she shoved me toward the door and toward my certain death.
I hoped to find Mitch and legions of officers waiting outside to take charge, but found only the big hole I'd made in the ground and my tools. I slowed and searched for a way to stop her. I spotted a tall garden rake leaning against the wall and remembered a time when I'd accidently stepped on the tines of a rake and the handle pinged forward and gave me a nasty knot on the head.
Read Between the Tines Page 22