Buried Agendas

by Donnell Ann Bell

  Curious to see if Gray recognized her in her role as Candy, Diana walked past and greeted him in her persona’s West Texas drawl with, “Good morning.”

  “It works,” he said, and went about his business.

  Impressed, she finished delivering the mail on the south side of the building. On her way back to the mailroom, however, she pushed the cart over to Carmen. Overloaded as always by phones and interruptions, the receptionist sat behind the counter.

  “Hi, there,” Diana said.

  “Hey, Candy,” Carmen said with a scowl.

  Diana frowned. “You doing all right?”

  Carmen shoved a pencil behind her ear and whispered, “No, I’m not doing all right. Who does that sheriff think he is? He waltzes in here, takes over the place, then makes me his secretary?”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “I’m not.” Carmen pushed an appointment book across the counter. “I’m about to put this phone system permanently on voice mail and walk out the door. Not only is he asking employees to come in for interviews, I have to screen them, then in the words of the sheriff, tell them to ‘stand by.’ Look who’s first on the list.” Carmen widened her gaze. “And he expects me to say, ‘stand by’?”

  As Diana stared at the names, Neil Jordan and Vic Hagen in slot number one, she grasped Carmen’s problem. But it was the name after the top two in charge that interested Diana the most.

  Carmen’s phone rang. “Hold on, Candy.”

  “Jordan Industries,” she said into her head set. “Oh, hey.” She snapped her fingers, motioning for Diana to return the appointment book.

  She slid it in Carmen’s direction.

  “That’s too bad. Nope, I’ll take care of it. I hope you feel better, Allen.” The receptionist scratched out the name.

  Diana made an exaggerated display of looking at her watch. “Oh, gosh,” she whispered back. “I have to go. See you later.”

  Her first instinct was to alert Gray, but rounding the corner, she ran smack into the conference room’s closed door.

  Her next option was to call Brad. But, glancing around the area, she wondered where she was supposed to make a call.

  She’d reluctantly begun carrying her cell phone, per his insistence. In this case, she’d tucked it beneath a stack of mail. She grabbed her cell and stepped outside into the ever-present heat. Choosing a spot a few feet from the entrance, she pressed her back against the building’s façade, between two windows. Should anyone look outside, they’d see her. Even so, it was the best she could manage for an emergency call.

  “Mayor Jordan, please,” Diana said.

  “May I say who’s calling?”

  Already, the sun was a killer this morning, and she shaded her eyes. “Candace Armstrong.”

  Brad picked up almost immediately. “You okay?”

  “Fine. Gray’s taken over the first floor conference room. He’s scheduled an interview with Neil and Vic Hagen at ten.”

  “At the same time?”

  “That’s what Carmen’s appointment book says. That’s one of the reasons I’m calling. According to the floor plan, their offices are next to each other. Since they’ll both be in an interview, I thought I’d use it as an opportunity to check out their offices.” Preparing for an argument, Diana bit her lip.

  “Okay, but concentrate on Hagen’s office.”

  “Why?” Besides the fact Neil Jordan’s your brother?”

  “I think there may be a power struggle going on between Vic and Neil. Come to think of it, maybe Gray sees it, too, and that’s why he wants to see them together.”

  “Ah,” Diana added her most suspicious tone. “You think he’s testing the chemistry between them?”

  “What?”

  “Sorry, bad pun.” She rolled her eyes. Nobody ever got her jokes.

  A man walked out of the administration building. Instinctively, Diana scrunched, then straightened. She’d appear a whole lot more suspicious bent at the knees than talking on the phone. “There’s more,” she said watching him disappear among the ocean of parked cars. “Allen Murdock was scheduled to meet with Gray after your brother and Hagen.”

  “What do you mean was?”

  “I think Allen called in and cancelled.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I was standing with Carmen when she scratched off his name and said, ‘I hope you feel better, Allen.’”

  Brad sighed. “You’re punchy when you’re tired, Diana. Okay, thanks—”

  “Brad, wait.” She’d raised her voice a little too loud. She glanced from side to side. “Since I can’t leave the plant, what would you think about going out to Allen Murdock’s to see if he really is sick?”

  “I’d say . . . that’s not a bad idea.”

  “Want me to see if I can get you his address?”

  “I’m mayor of Diamond. I think I can manage. Thanks for the update. By the way, was that so hard?”

  In the sweltering heat, the wig’s bangs had drooped past her eyebrows and hit the rims of her glasses. She exhaled a breath, lifting them out of her eyes. “You have no idea.”

  When he didn’t answer, she said, “Brad?”

  He’d already disconnected.

  Diana returned to the mailroom, watching the minutes pass by. Her mail run completed, she needed to finagle some way out of her current duties and get up to the executive floor. Anytime now, Vic and Neil would head down for their combined interview with Gray.

  She was just starting a copy job as Harold approached. “Candace, have you seen Buddy this morning?”

  “No, sir. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “No. I need him to take these forms to Legal. As usual, though, he’s not around when I need him.”

  “I’d be happy to take them.” More than happy. The legal department was one floor below the executive corridor.

  “No. I’ll take them myself. If you see Buddy, tell him I want to see him immediately.”

  Obviously, Harold had received the warning to watch “Candy” closely and to terminate her at his first opportunity. His demeanor had changed since yesterday afternoon. Diana stared after him as her supervisor disappeared out of the mailroom.

  All right, if today was her last day, so be it. But she wasn’t leaving without one last effort.

  She proceeded with the copy job, but as soon as another employee passed by, Diana feigned an exaggerated moan.

  Betsy, a woman who did her job and said little, glanced her way. “Candy? Honey, what is it?”

  Diana slumped, pressing her hand to her head. “I get these darn migraines.” When Betsy just stood there, Diana added a sway for good measure.

  “Gracious, you look ready to faint. Do you want me to help you to the nurse?”

  “No, I think I can make it,” Diana said weakly.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, but I should probably hurry. It seems to be getting worse.”

  “Go,” Betsy said. “As soon as I see Harold, I’ll let him know.”

  Diana didn’t need any more encouragement than that. On her way out, she clutched an interoffice envelope and stuffed it full of blank paper. She scribbled Vic Hagen on the “To” side and “Harold Mulberry on the “From,” and bolted out the door.

  A short time later, she stepped off the elevator and entered the spacious corridor Buddy un-affectionately called Rich Man’s Row. Five of Jordan’s top executives occupied the area, with Neil Jordan claiming the corner office and Vic Hagen the office next to Neil’s.

  Diana should have been nervous. But with Meade County deputies in the building, and the sheriff conducting interviews downstairs, her bravado was at an all-time high.

  Envelope in hand, she passed the first two assistants as though she had
every right to be here. One smiled, the other didn’t even look up, and as Diana reached the end of the corridor, she smiled at the ease with which she’d entered the company’s inner sanctum.

  Even Neil and Vic’s support staff appeared to accommodate her wish to spy. The workstations outside the president’s and plant manager’s offices were empty. She’d just gripped Vic’s doorknob when someone behind her said, “May I help you?”

  Diana whirled. “Oh, hi.”

  “Hello,” said a blond in a white and burgundy sundress.

  “I was told to deliver these papers to Mr. Hagen. Are you his assistant?”

  “I work for Mr. Jordan. Mr. Hagen’s assistant is on vacation.” The blond held out her hand. “I’ll see that Mr. Hagen gets them.”

  “Would you? That’d be great.”

  Without a look back, the assistant disappeared into Vic’s office. In and out in a matter of seconds, she subsequently returned to her desk.

  Damn. Diana retreated several feet and stood near an exit sign, where should anyone confront her, she would simply escape down the stairs. Here she waited—and waited, then glanced at her watch. Ten-twenty-one.

  At ten-twenty-three, Neil’s assistant picked up some papers and disappeared from sight. Seizing the opportunity, Diana darted toward Vic’s office and made a mad dash into his room.

  Holding her breath, her heart pounding, she squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her back against the door. When Neil’s assistant didn’t try to burst in, Diana allowed air into her lungs and eventually glanced around.

  She learned a lot about Jordan’s plant manager with one sweep of the room. One, he was an outdoorsman, and, two, he wasn’t camera shy. Photos of the powerfully-built man boasted his love of hunting, fishing, skiing, and golf, while noticeably missing were any pictures of a woman or children.

  In contrast to her cluttered office in Dallas, his was immaculate, made up of an oak executive desk and an exquisite antique armoire.

  The wall opposite the window and the armoire held four full-size file cabinets, each displaying a variety of awards—including Manager of the Year—a hard hat, and his nameplate, while a conference table and chairs were situated near the back wall across from the cabinets.

  Most of the file drawers were locked, and the ones she could open contained nothing but forms.

  Looking around, she moved to the armoire, finding it stocked with visitor hard hats and clothing. A mirror was tacked to the inside, and the upper shelf held a bottle of sandalwood cologne and a toiletry bag.

  The phone rang in the outer corridor, making Diana aware she needed a strategy in case Neil’s assistant discovered Diana inside. She would have no choice but to say she had Brad’s permission to be in the plant, then enlist Gray’s help from downstairs to coax the woman into silence.

  Still, it would be better for all concerned if Diana wasn’t found out. She glanced at her watch. Ten twenty-seven. Good grief, they’d been in the interview nearly a half-hour. How much time did she have?

  Two of the side drawers were locked, and as expected, the one she could open contained mundane information. In the back, however, was a lone file missing a label. Odd Diana thought, because all of his other files were clearly identified.

  She pulled out the file, opened it, and gasped at the newspaper clipping inside. It contained a clipping from The Diamond Herald of Brad and Susan’s engagement announcement. Also included in the file was a folded note from Susan, which read, I’ve loved him forever. You were never a game. ~ Sue.

  Releasing a breath, Diana remembered the scene in the cafeteria. There had been something between Vic and Susan. Had Brad known? Was that why he’d said concentrate on Hagen and not Neil?

  Revenge isn’t my style, Diana.

  Diana believed him. Brad had never done anything that would make her think otherwise.

  She started to slip the file back into its slot when a business card fell to the floor. She picked it up, but the only thing on the card was a handwritten international number.

  Her gaze shot to the door, then to the phone on Vic’s desk beside the in-basket with the departmental envelope stuffed with blank paper. Wondering what he’d think when he opened it, Diana grabbed a pen from Vic’s drawer and copied the phone number onto her palm.

  “Back already?” she heard Neil’s assistant say from outside Vic’s office.

  With fumbling fingers, Diana slid the file back into place.

  The door swung open and Vic Hagen stepped inside.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  AFTER A HASTY reshuffling of his schedule to accommodate a conversation with Allen Murdock, Brad made the forty-five minute trip to an area known as Dusty Acres.

  Diana had come up with some outlandish ideas since infiltrating the plant. Although Brad had to admit, when she suggested he talk to Allen, he couldn’t wait to get off the phone. A Jordan paying a visit to a plant employee wouldn’t raise a whole lot of eyebrows, and the best news of all, the talk wouldn’t include Brad and Diana sneaking around or being together to do it.

  He turned north on a road leading to Allen’s property, disappointed in what he saw. Dusty Acres had been developed for homeowners with horse property when Brad was in his teens. Five-to ten-acre tracts existed within the expansive subdivision, but much of the acreage had become rundown, most likely from a loss of jobs and the recession.

  Murdock’s property, on the other hand, looked pristine. A two-story home with white siding and yellow trim set off a pea-graveled drive. Low-water plants comprised the majority of the setting, but closer to the house, St. Augustine grass, cottonwood trees, and well-tended flowerbeds dotted the landscape. Several yards away, a cinnamon-colored gelding pranced in a corral connected to a barn.

  Abandoning his tie, Brad rolled up his sleeves and stepped out of the Navigator, immediately missing the air conditioning. One thing about Diamond in the summer, if it wasn’t hot, it was hotter.

  Pea gravel crunched beneath his feet as he neared the house. Before he stepped onto the porch, a woman’s voice called out, “Can I help you?”

  Brad stepped back and removed his sunglasses. Above him on a second story ledge, a woman in a red bandana sat with her back to him, her legs inside the window, looking over her shoulder.

  Beside her, a bucket rested on the ledge. She held a sponge in her hand, and Brad received a clue as to why the Murdock’s property was in such great shape.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Murdock?”

  “That’d be me. Mornin’ yourself, Mayor Jordan. Give me a sec and I’ll be right down.”

  Brad grinned. “Take your time.”

  A few minutes later, the screen door swung open, and the woman, minus her bandana, walked toward him, her gray hair swept back in a bun.

  Brad extended his hand. “Have we met before?”

  She smiled, her sparkling green gaze setting off some weathered but nice-looking features. “No, but I knew your mama. My name’s Jolene. Your mother was such a nice woman. Always pitching in and doing stuff for folks. Pained me no end when she was taken from you boys so young.”

  “Thank you.” A tight band formed around Brad’s chest. He didn’t think of his mother as often these days. He appreciated Jolene Murdock’s reminder.

  “What brings you by?”

  “I’d like to talk to Allen if he’s up to it,” Brad said.

  She placed a hand on her hip. “Why wouldn’t he be up to it? Besides, what would he be doing home this time of day? He’s at the plant.”

  Terrific. Had Diana misunderstood about the person who’d called in sick? Worse, had Brad rearranged his day for nothing? “You’re sure?”

  “Left this morning same time as usual. Six-fifteen sharp. Allen’s nothing if not a creature of habit. What’s this ‘if he’s up to it?’”

  “Has he ever talked t
o you about a man by the name of Leonard Winters?”

  “Leo? Sure. Allen and Leo have worked off and on together throughout the years. Recently, Allen replaced Leo on one of his projects. What about him?”

  Brad hesitated. “Leo Winters is dead, ma’am.”

  “My stars.” Jolene pressed a hand to her mouth. “How?”

  “The sheriff suspects foul play. Evidently, I got my wires crossed. Thought Allen might’ve come home after he heard the news.”

  “He hasn’t been here, and he hasn’t called. Why do you want to talk to him?” She gasped. “You said foul play. Surely, you don’t think—”

  “No, ma’am,” Brad cut in. “I simply want to understand who Leo was and what he might have been going through. I was hoping Allen could fill me in.”

  Jolene scoffed. “Well, good luck. I doubt Allen can help you. Leo hated Allen. Even when my husband tried to make amends. He was desperate for Leo to remain on the team, said he was a genius. How did Allen put it? He said all Leo needed was guts and an attitude adjustment.” Jolene shuffled her foot back and forth, kicking up some of the property’s gravel. “But the way Allen told it, Leo didn’t want to report to nobody, least of all Allen.”

  “How’d your husband take it when Leo turned him down?”

  “You know, after Leo said no, I don’t think Allen gave it a second thought. He’d tried, and that was that.” Jolene shrugged.

  Brad stared up at the house’s second floor. “I appreciate the information. I’ll let you get back to your windows. You’re careful up there, aren’t you?”

  Jolene glanced up and laughed. “Mayor, I’ve been washing those windows once a month for eleven years. I have a system, don’t you worry.”

  “I’ll bet.” Brad smiled and slipped on his shades.

  Inside the SUV again, his first thought was to call Diana. But conscious of the risk she was taking carrying her phone, he dialed the main number of the plant instead. When Carmen answered, he asked her to connect him with Allen Murdock.