Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love)

by Liza O'Connor

  Carrie first explained about the message from Jack, warning her of the employee riot and that he’d locked himself inside the computer room.

  “Oh God, I think Jack could still be barricaded inside the room in the basement. He’s very protective of his servers. If so, he’s been without bathroom, food, and water as long as I have.”

  Jenson rose and turned off the recorder, slipping it into her pocket. “Let me go check and I’ll be right back.”

  Carrie nodded anxiously, hoping someone had rescued poor Jack by now.

  When the door opened a minute later, she sighed in disappointment. Officer Pascal and her food had arrived, but she needed to know about Jack.

  She shared her worries as the officer handed her a giant sandwich.

  “Is there a knife to cut this in two?” She regretted her request at once. They probably frowned upon suspects asking for knives. “A plastic one will do.”

  “I bought Officer Jenson her own sandwich.”

  Carrie pushed the wrapped sandwich back to Officer Pascal. “I don’t have enough money for a whole sandwich.”

  He smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “But I do. Chances are you’ll become angry with me when I explain why I yelled bomb. Even Officer Jenson got mad at me for that.”

  “She didn’t get mad at you.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “Your 911 tape didn’t get included in the initial incident report. If it had been, the matter wouldn’t have been pushed up to Level Red so quickly. Thus, the city would’ve been spared significant cost and police man-hours over what turned out to be an angry fired employee and her five nephews destroying the CEO’s office.”

  “Miss Schnell did this? She can barely lift her purse.”

  “Actually, the old gal had more to her than you’d think. Took two officers to handcuff her.”

  Carrie frowned. “I don’t think you arrested Miss Schnell then. You’d need one officer, a weight loss dietician, and about a year to handcuff her.”

  He let out a hearty laugh, soothing her anguished soul. “We used plastic ties on her.” Opening one side of the foil paper wrapped around his sandwich, he took a large bite.

  Carrie’s empty stomach growled in protest as she watched him eat. She unwrapped her sandwich and bit into her delicious turkey delight.

  Officer Jansen returned and handed Carrie her iPhone. “We need you to text your employee and tell him the men at the door are police and rescue workers. Hopefully, he still has the strength to move whatever he used to block the door.”

  Carrie dropped her sandwich and grabbed her phone. “Please, don’t let me have killed poor Jack.”

  She sent her message and waited, unable to eat until he responded.

  How do I know this is really you?

  “He thinks it’s a trick.” Then she smiled.

  I will bring you my grandmother’s chocolate covered turtles tomorrow if you will let the police come in and save you now.

  “Hopefully, my turtles will do the trick.”

  While she waited, Officer Jansen insisted she continue with her story.

  “I cowered behind a car, fretting over our client’s contracts blowing around the sidewalk. Those are old files, back when we required the company’s tax ID number on the contract. I started thinking about people picking them up and opening accounts in their names. Credit cards don’t cover thefts against businesses like they do personal accounts.”

  Jenson nodded once as if she knew that.

  Of course, she knows. She’s a police officer.

  “I feared Trent would fire me…again…and this time for real if I stood by and watched his clients’ IDs flitter away into the arms of identity thieves.”

  She glanced at her phone again and bit her bottom lip. Officer Pascal covered her hand with his. “Don’t worry. The rescue workers are checking your employee over now, but he seems to be fine.”

  She almost asked how he knew Jack had made it then noticed a wire running up to his left ear. “Thank you for telling me.” Feeling happy now, she returned to her turkey delight.

  “So you were picking up papers…” Jenson prompted.

  Carrie nodded. “Then I saw a black flash right before someone gripped my waist and slammed me into the car I’d previously hidden behind. I screamed, of course. Next thing I knew all hell broke out.” She paused, relieved to see the tape recorder running. She really didn’t want to tell this part again.

  “My boss silenced my scream by cursing at me.”

  “What did he say?”

  She closed her eyes to help her remember. “You stupid idiot, what were you thinking, then something about five ought three.”

  Jenson leaned forward. “What did he mean?”

  “I don’t know. You should probably ask him.” She frowned as an odd expression passed between Jenson and Pascal. “What’s happened to Trent?”

  Officer Pascal leaned forward. “Nothing. He’s at a different precinct, so he’s not available for us to question. Can you think of any possible meaning for those words?”

  Jenson tapped her fingers on the desk. “Did he seem irrationally angry at the time?”

  She grimaced. “I don’t recall him ever calling me an idiot before.”

  “Do you know what set him off?”

  She groaned at her stupidity as the answer came to her. “Another explosion occurred just after I crashed into the car. They must’ve pushed out another cabinet. They’d thrown out three in rapid succession then nothing for fifteen minutes, so I started collecting papers. Which explains why he grabbed me and shoved me against the car. A cabinet must have been falling right on top of me.”

  She smiled. “He didn’t say five ought three. He said there were five not three. He cursed at me because I’d come out to collect papers while they still had file cabinets to toss.”

  She covered her face. “They arrested him for saving my life. He really is going to fire me this time.”

  Jensen smiled at Pascal. “Anything you want to ask?”

  “I think you got it just fine. Write it up and give it to the chief.”

  She smiled. “Thank you Detective Pascal.”

  When Jenson left, Carrie smiled. “So you’re a detective?”

  A pained grimace crossed his face. “Not yet. And I wish people would stop promoting me in advance.”

  “I think she meant it as a compliment.”

  He nodded. “I just don’t want it jinxed. So off the record, while you nibble a bit more on your sandwich, what’s it like to work for Master Trent?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t call him that, so where’d you hear it from?”

  A faint grin tugged at his mouth. “I frequent a bar in Brooklyn that has a whole wall dedicated to him.”

  Now understanding, Carrie laughed softly. “Yeah, the dart boards with Trent’s picture as the bull’s-eye. I’ve seen them. At first I thought Sam had dedicated a dart board wall to himself, but who would put their own face on a wall of dart boards?”

  Pascal chuckled. “Not Sam. And if he did, no one would dare toss a dart at it.”

  She relaxed. “So you know Sam?”

  Leaning back, he nodded. “Fought together in the war.”

  “I didn’t know Sam fought in a war. Which one?”

  “Iraq.”

  She stuck out her hand. “Then let me thank you for serving our country.”

  He shook her hand and held on to it long after the handshake ended. “So you didn’t tell me what it’s like working for your boss.”

  With a roll of her eyes, she asked, “Now or when he first hired me?”

  Glancing at his watch, he said, “I’ve got a half hour ‘til I’m back on duty. Give me both.”

  Chapter 18

  Carrie entertained Officer Pascal with many stories of Trent’s good intentions gone wrong when applied to the worst employees in the world.

  When his phone buzzed, he read the text and rose. “Well, my lunch break is over and yo
ur ride is here.”

  Carrie stood up in shock. “I can go?”

  “Let me just verify that with the chief as we pass by his office, but assuming Jenson has given him her report, I can’t imagine why he would keep you any longer.”

  “I’m so happy you arrived when you did.” She paused. “Although, I wouldn’t have minded sooner either. I don’t think I would’ve survived running in circles for much longer.” She shook her head as she recalled the never-ending questions. “Can you tell me the purpose of asking the same stuff over and over?”

  “If a person is lying, asking the same questions repeatedly usually causes them to change their story. Unfortunately, the guys screwed up and didn’t ask for your story first.” He paused. “I’m assuming you hadn’t told any of them about calling 911 and telling them it wasn’t a bomb.”

  “I told the first guy, but no one else asked me a question related to the call or why I screamed ‘bomb’.”

  He sighed and led her out into the main room. As they walked by a glass office in the center, a white-haired man pushed out of his chair and came to his door. “May I speak with you a moment, Miss Hanson. Come in, as well, Officer Pascal.”

  Please don’t arrest me. Please don’t—

  “Miss Hanson, I apologize for how long it took to get this matter straightened out. Police work is a mix of procedure and instinct, and sometimes those two very different qualities fail to find the right balance. Now, Detective Pascal balances the two amazingly well.”

  “Officer Jenson was very good too,” Carrie added, knowing being a woman in this field had to be hard.

  He smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m going to keep my eye on her from now on,” he said, then paused. His brow furrowed as he met her gaze. “When you leave here, you may be approached by a lawyer who wishes to sue us.”

  She stopped him at once. “I would never sue the police for doing their job. Besides, I did cause this by yelling bomb.”

  “And saved all the people who stood outside the cafe,” the police chief added.

  “Yes, but I realized afterward I could’ve gotten them to move another way?”

  “How?” Detective Pascal asked.

  “Declare a box of unscratched lotto games lay in the street.”

  Both the chief and Pascal laughed.

  The chief gripped her hand with both of his. “If you ever get in a situation where you think a police chief might be of use, you give me a call.”

  She nodded and left. The nice policeman followed her out. “Detective—can I call you that, since the chief did?”

  “Call me Joey.”

  She liked that even better. “Joey, did you laugh at my lotto solution because you thought me clever or because you thought it ridiculous?”

  “The first. We had a situation where several boxes of lotto tickets fell off a truck and split open. Before the driver could pull the truck over and retrieve the boxes, the area turned into a piranha feast. All quiet one moment, and the next, traffic screeches to a halt in all directions, while hundreds of people fight to reach the source of potential wealth. We had to go in with horses. Neither cars nor police on foot could get anywhere.”

  They exited the police station and a second later, Trent, sans nose bandage, ran up the steps. “Thank God you’re out! My high-priced lawyer failed to do half his job.” He frowned at Pascal. “She is out, isn’t she? Because I’m telling you now, if you’re just moving her to another precinct, I’m coming with you. If my driver didn’t know someone in the police force, I would still be going from police station to police station demanding her release.”

  Officer Pascal chuckled. “Sam’s friend in the police force would be me. And Miss Hanson is free to go.”

  “Hold on. Who paid her bail?”

  “We didn’t charge her with anything.”

  Trent went from happy to outraged in less than a second. “That’s insane. I save her life, for which I am arrested, thrown in a waiting cell, and forced to pay a million dollar bond while she, who caused the whole mess, gets off scot-free?”

  Detective Pascal’s face turned hard in an instant. “Would you like me to go back and charge her with a felony or two? I could hit her with inciting a riot for yelling bomb. She could get eight years in a federal prison. And we have her on tape confessing, so a conviction is almost certain.”

  Trent turned his rage on Carrie. “You talked to the police without a lawyer? What is wrong with you, today? You’re usually so smart. First, risking your life to rescue paper from the sidewalk and now talking to the police. Don’t you know innocent people die and go to jail all the time?”

  “Well, I was a free woman until you showed up,” Carrie snapped in return. “And for your information, I don’t have a lawyer on retainer. You could’ve shared yours.”

  “I tried, but when I told him we’d been arrested and he had to get us out, for some reason, he thought I’d referred to myself in the royal ‘we.’”

  Carrie dropped her head to hide her laughter. She could very well understand how his lawyer might think such a thing. No king could be more into himself than Trent.

  “Now look, you’ve made her cry,” Trent yelled and pulled her into his arms. “Frightening her with the threat of prison. You’ll never win the case. My lawyer will have her free by tomorrow.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather her be free now?” Joey asked.

  “Yes, of course!”

  “Then take her and go.” He leaned down so he could see Carrie’s face. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Carrie Hanson.”

  She straightened up and smiled. “Same here, Detective Joey Pascal.” After shaking his hand, she used the back of her hands to wipe her eyes dry.

  “Damn it! She’s crying again.” Trent pulled her against his side. “We’re leaving.”

  Pascal smiled. “You’re welcome and have a good day.”

  Trent intended to turn and have the last word. He loved having the last word.

  “Leave it!” Carrie warned using the voice she’d learned from watching the Dog Whisperer. Amazingly, his attention returned to her.

  She patted his arm. “I’m fine.”

  “Well, I’m not! I’m going to sue that smart-ass cop and the precinct. Did you get his name? They had no right to arrest you!”

  “They just did their job.”

  “How is arresting a man performing a heroic deed and questioning the poor idiot he saved ‘doing their job’?”

  While she hadn’t actually seen the black blur that slammed her against the car, she did recall Mars’ comments from this morning. “I blame your headwear. What hero wears a gangster hat?”

  Her comment silenced him for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he sounded far more subdued. “I’m telling Mars to destroy all my hats.”

  “You could give them to a charity?”

  “So the poor, who can’t afford a lawyer, wear them and get arrested while buying a carton of milk. Not a chance.”

  He stuffed her into the back seat and slipped in beside her.

  “Where to, Master Trent?” Sam asked as he pulled out into the traffic.

  Trent leaned back and closed his eyes. “Home.”

  Sam glanced in the rearview mirror. “The big one or the tall one?”

  Trent frowned, but answered, “The penthouse.”

  “Can we stop by the office first?” Carrie asked.

  Both men answered in unison. “No!”

  “But our customers’ tax IDs are lying on the street, waiting to be stolen!”

  “No, the bomb squad carted it all away when one of the dogs started barking,” Sam stated.

  Carrie’s eyes rounded in shock. “Someone put a real bomb in one of those cabinets?”

  “Nope. Turned out a bottle of Master Trent’s cologne excited the female dog.”

  Carrie looked at Trent. “You kept a bottle of cologne in my file cabinets?”

  “I thought someone might be using my cologne, so I put it in the back of the top drawer of the always-locke
d file cabinets.”

  Carrie returned her attention to Sam. “And because their dog liked Trent’s cologne, the bomb squad gathered up all the papers and took them to a secure facility?”

  “Yep,” Sam said.

  She leaned her head on Trent’s chest. “I really, really love your cologne.”

  He wanted to reply, “Not nearly as much as I love you,” but feared his admission might send her fleeing from the moving car and into the street, where she would become a grill ornament on some taxi.

  He tightened his arm around her. “As long as it makes you happy.” Closing his eyes, he breathed out, finally able to calm.

  The moment he’d spotted the filing cabinet tipping out the window just above where Carrie knelt and gathered paper, his feelings for her had crystallized. He didn’t just need her, he loved her. He couldn’t imagine a world without her. So without any thought to his safety, he’d saved her. Then the police inexplicably arrested him. But, finally, they were headed home, where no one would drop anything on their heads—Mars would never allow such a thing.

  Thank God, he’d gone after her. Otherwise, she’d be dead now. His heart quickened as panic set in just at the thought. No! He would not allow a future without her. Carrie Hanson was his! Neither God nor anyone else could have her.

  He found her first. If God needs Heaven to operate better, he can call up someone else, but he best leave my EA alone.

  He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Just to be clear, I do not hold you responsible for today’s debacles and my million dollars currently tied up with a bondsman.”

  “You should only have a hundred thousand tied up. A bondsman usually asks for 10 percent.”

  He smiled. “Really? Well then, you have nothing to feel guilty about. A hundred grand is chump change.”

  Her forehead acquired little worry crinkles. He had a great desire to kiss them away. “I’m sure my lawyer will have the charges dropped and my money returned in short order …well, to his account, then he’ll send me a bill for the rest.”

  She tilted her face upward, concern etched on her beautiful face. “I don’t understand why the police arrested you at all. This was entirely my fault. Had I not tried to get the people off the sidewalk—”