by Robin Mahle
Claire hadn’t spoken to anyone yet and no one questioned her absence yesterday. They must have assumed it was because Charlie had quit. That was what everyone was told.
Colin had agreed that she could continue on at work until Vance had something more concrete regarding Charlie. If the case turned from missing persons to homicide, that was it, she would be out. He seemed to yield to the fact that if she changed her behavior in any way, that it just might jeopardize her safety. But his cooperation would only go so far. She had days, at best, to get the information to shut down this case and Claire had assured him that was all it would take.
Colin wanted to find a way to prove what Winters had done to her, but too much time had passed. Any drug would have been flushed from her system. They both knew that and so the only way to make him pay was for her to get proof of his involvement in the embezzlement scheme or the blackmail.
It was a paper-thin line, but Colin was driven by anger at the abuse of his wife and had reluctantly agreed to let her do what needed to be done to ensure Winters would suffer. God help the man if Colin was left alone to his own devices. Claire had to be sure her husband didn’t end up in prison himself.
Her email was filled with messages of surprise and concern for Claire about Charlie’s sudden departure. Problem was, she still couldn’t bring herself to feel anything except anger towards him. He’d betrayed her, even if, in the end, he’d considered trying to make it right. It was on Winters’ orders to blackmail her—she knew that now—but his agreeing to it served to erase the years she’d known and admired him. Margaret had said on Saturday that she was like a daughter to him. Maybe once, she had been. But that Charlie had been taken over by a bitter man who was only looking out for himself.
“Claire?”
She turned towards the sound of the speakerphone. “Yes?”
“Mr. Winters would like to see you as soon as possible, please.”
“I’ll be right there. Thank you.”
Claire peered into the hallway and imagined herself walking right up to Winters’ office, staring him in the eyes, and slamming her fist against his perfectly square jaw, blood spilling from his mouth. It would be a start. Payback for abusing her, payback for Beth. Payback for destroying her life.
Just as she was about to get up, Lucas entered her line of sight. He looked just as ugly to her as Winters now did. He was part of it. She didn’t know how yet, but it was only a matter of time.
“Good morning, Claire. How are you holding up? That’s crazy about Charlie, right?”
“Yeah, pretty crazy. I’ve got to go to Mr. Winters’ office now, if you’ll excuse me.” She pushed her way past him. If she didn’t get away from him fast, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t end up on the floor from an unexpected blow either.
Sheri waved Claire inside and she took the granted permission to open the door of Evan’s office.
“Good morning, Claire, please come in,” Evan said, looking ever so solemn.
She stood behind the chair across from his desk. “You asked for me?”
“Yes, please, sit down. Charlie was a good man and I don’t believe he truly wanted any harm to come to you or your family. I can’t explain why he would have gone to the lengths he did, except, of course, that he likely feared going to prison if you exposed him.” Cool, calm, collected. As if Winters himself had played no part in the blackmail.
It was becoming obvious that he assumed she had accepted his neutral role in the matter. Shocked and horrified at the prospect that Charlie was embezzling and had turned to blackmail to protect himself. The man was very convincing.
“It’s all very disappointing. Have you heard anything more about his whereabouts?”
“No, I’m afraid I haven’t. Margaret isn’t doing well, though. She has no idea why he would have left her like this.” Claire felt ice forming in her veins. She’d spent the past few days tormented and frightened, fearing she’d lost everything, which was ultimately Winters’ plan. Now, she just wanted it to end. Charlie, or Winters’ feigned interest in him, was of little consequence to her now.
“Are you sure you’re all right, Claire? You seem different.”
She could almost see the lies floating around his face. Swirling in his mouth, his nose, swimming through his eyes. “Well, my boss just quit and left his wife of thirty-five years without so much as a goodbye. I guess I am different.”
“You’re absolutely right. That was very insensitive of me.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry. It’s been a very difficult few days.” If she had any hope of getting the information she needed, pushing him away wasn’t going to further her cause.
“You know what?” Evan slapped the top of his desk. “Why don’t you and I take a long lunch today? How about a nice meal at the marina? I can arrange for food to be brought out and we can sit on the deck and just get away, if only for a few hours. What do you say?”
She’d promised Colin that she would not put herself in a position in which she’d be alone with him. But, did she have the luxury of turning him down? Making him believe she was on his side was the only way to accomplish the task at hand and being alone with him outside the office could allow for more meaningful conversation. They wouldn’t be completely alone. There would be a crew serving food. If it meant bringing this nightmare to an end, she would have to play along. “I think I’ve got a meeting yet this morning, but I don’t have anything this afternoon.” Her voice stammered a little.
“That’s perfect. I’ve actually got to leave in a few minutes for a meeting myself, but I’ll be back in a couple of hours. We’ll head out then. It’s settled.”
“There is one thing I wanted to ask, Evan.” She reached deep inside to claim her sweetest, most helpless voice. “Would it be all right if I got some work done in here today? It’s just—well, everyone’s been stopping by to talk to me about Charlie and it’s just too hard. I could really use some time to focus, especially if we’re going to be out for the better part of the afternoon.”
“Didn’t you say you had a meeting this morning?” Evan asked, looking curious at her inconsistency.
“I really need to double check. My mind is just so jumbled today. It’d probably be best if I rescheduled it by the way I’m feeling.” Claire felt sweat form beneath the hairline of her neck. Every word out of her mouth was false and she’d hoped he wouldn’t see through it.
“Say no more. My office is your office. I keep a spare laptop in the top drawer of that filing cabinet in case any visiting clients need one. You’re welcome to it.”
“Thank you, Evan. It means a lot to me just to be able to focus on work for a few hours.”
“Okay then.” His mood seemed markedly improved since she’d agreed to lunch. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours and then we’ll head out.” Evan retrieved his cell phone and placed it in his pocket. The Hermes briefcase lay already opened. He tossed in a few files and snapped it shut. “Goodbye, Claire.”
She waited a few minutes before finding the guest laptop in the file cabinet. Just as she was about to boot it up, Evan’s office phone crackled with Sheri’s voice.
“Claire, dear, how are you? Mr. Winters said you would be working in his office for a while. Can I get you anything?”
“No. Thank you, Sheri. I’m fine.”
“Not even a coffee?”
Claire smiled. “Really, I’m okay, but thank you. I appreciate the offer.”
“All right, honey. Good bye.”
Claire logged into the laptop and sat down at Evan’s desk. She had no idea what to do now. It wasn’t like the man was going to leave some kind of proof that he was involved in illegal activities right on top of his desk. But, she’d never had a good look around his office before. She could take pictures and sent them to Sanchez, if for nothing else than to prove she’d been able to get close enough to be left alone in his office.
It was spacious and had the most incredible views of the harbor she’d ever seen. Still, there were
few places where anything could be hidden in the sparse decor. The bookcase along the side wall, opposite the seating area, held mostly artifacts and a few awards. Two lateral filing cabinets ran along the wall near his private conference room, but the only unlocked drawer was the one the laptop had been in.
She tried the door that led to the conference room, but it was locked. Having been in there once before, she recalled a credenza along the back wall, below the TV, and a serving cart at the head of the table. Not much else. What she needed was access to his computer files. No one kept secrets on paper. Maybe this was a futile effort, an ill-conceived plan she’d hatched in the moments before having arrived at his request. Maybe the only way was to get closer to him. She could already hear Colin’s voice in her head.
Claire walked back to the couch where she and Evan had talked on Saturday morning. She’d still been in shock over Charlie’s departure. Slumping onto the couch, she glanced around the expanse of the office. What I am supposed to do now?
A reflection caught her eye. It was coming from beneath the chair across from her. She tilted her head to get a better look. Is that a ring? Claire stood up and moved to the chair, bending down on her knees to see underneath. She pulled out a class ring that belonged to someone who had gone to Washington State.
In a moment of extreme clarity, she knew who had attended that school. He always bragged about graduating in the top of his class and he’d shown off this ring to her before. Lucas Abbott. But what had Lucas Abbott been doing in Evan Winters’ office? And how in the hell did he manage to lose his ring?
***
Evan picked up the decanter and eyed its contents. There wasn’t much left of the forty-year-old Dalmore Scotch Whiskey, but it was enough to settle his nerves. “The board is going to start asking questions, Paul. What do you propose I say to them?” He gave himself a two-fingered pour and swished it around before throwing it back in a single gulp.
Peering out of the plate glass window of his downtown condo, Evan watched the sun break through the morning clouds, stagnant over the Sound. The last thing he had wanted was to lose Charlie. But he wasn’t just monitoring Claire’s phone; he was monitoring all of their phones. He knew Charlie had called her; sent her messages too. Looking back now, he’d lost control and he couldn’t let it happen again. Frank, Lucas, all of them; they were afraid of him now. Some fear was necessary to keep such an operation running smoothly, but too much could force another weak link to break. Seek out the help of that damn Agent Sanchez. It was beginning to dawn on him; the power that woman held.
“It’s a little early for that, don’t you think, Evan?”
“What I think is that I’ve got a former employee that the FBI refuses to arrest, another employee who’s missing. And leading the feds straight to our door is a woman about to realize she’s in way over her head.”
“And the problem is, you still think you can charm her into submission,” Paul said, glancing over at Frank. “Look, Evan, Charlie Monroe took off. Not much you could have done about that. I don’t like having loose ends, but Charlie won’t talk, not unless he wants to end up in prison.”
Frank shot a glance to Evan, standing only a few feet away and leaning on the metal railing between the kitchen and living room. He was the only other person in that room to know the truth, but the plan had been to keep Paul Higgins happy. They needed Envirotech to invest in WFC. Any suggestion that Charlie was dead, Higgins and Envirotech’s money was as good as gone.
“The problem, as I see it, is that my board is pushing back on signing the new contract with your firm. This FBI investigation has got them feeling rather hesitant about the entire situation.” Paul joined Evan and poured himself a drink. “You tell your board what you’ve been telling them all along. That the FBI has nearly pinpointed the bank accounts leading to Beth Graves and this should resolve itself very soon. And as far as Charlie goes, well, you can’t be held responsible for what the man does, can you? There’s far too much at stake here, Evan.”
Frank appeared nervous, shifting his feet, folding his arms. The man couldn’t keep still.
Evan glared at him as he swallowed his second drink. “And what about Claire McKenna?”
“If you can’t get her to see the light after your little luncheon on the boat, then I don’t see that you have much choice. Evan, we can’t risk her getting her hands on any damaging information. Right now, she’s got absolutely no proof of our involvement,” Paul replied.
“She’s still close with Sanchez. I know she is, and he’s breathing down my neck.”
“Can she be bought, like Graves?”
“I don’t know. We’ll find out soon enough.”
“And if she can’t?” Frank unexpectedly jumped in.
The arrangement for the marina lunch would be a way find out what she really knew and if the money he could offer her would be enough to put an end to it. Yes, he could fire her, set her up as they did with Graves. But he needed her in a way he’d never needed anyone before. Evan didn’t answer, only turning away from the men. Paul wanted assurances and so did Frank. He had none to give.
***
“Mr. Hart? I’m Special Agent Gordon Sanchez and I believe you’ve spoken with Agent Huffman? We’ve also asked Detective Vance to sit with us. He’s in charge of the Charlie Monroe disappearance.”
“Thank you, gentlemen, for meeting with me on such short notice. And I’m glad we’re already on the same page. Disappearance indeed.” Jim extended a greeting to the men.
“You seemed somewhat anxious on the phone, Mr. Hart. We’re happy to assist in whatever way we can,” Huffman replied.
The small coffee shop was dotted with a few tables. It was already clearing out from the morning rush.
“Why don’t we have a seat back here?” Vance motioned towards the table in the far corner, near the window front. “I understand you work the night shift; you must be exhausted.”
“I’m all right. You get used to it after this many years.” Jim pulled out the chair in the corner to take his seat.
“Can I get you a coffee?” Sanchez asked.
“No. Thank you. It’ll keep me up, not that I think I’ll sleep much after this.”
An eager glance was exchanged between the agents before each took his own seat. Vance, accustomed to dealing with the public probably more so than his federal counterparts, didn’t seem impressed just yet.
They waited for Jim to begin.
“I heard about Charlie Monroe when I came in to work last night. It’s a shame. He was a great guy.” Jim paused for a moment, appearing to assume the worst.
“Mr. Hart, why is that you wanted to see us this morning?” Sanchez prodded him to get to the point.
“You and I met briefly once when you came in to see Mr. Winters last week. I didn’t really know who else to turn to and I gotta tell you, after spending as much time as I have viewing security tapes over the years, I know when something’s not right.”
“I pulled your records after these guys mentioned you wanted to meet,” Detective Vance said.
Jim appeared skeptical already. He didn’t like people digging into his life. It was easy enough to find him on file, though. Being in security meant submitting fingerprints.
“I got a friend in Vegas PD.” Vance was prompted to explain the intrusion. “Seems you’ve got quite a lot of experience in these matters. I’m sure working Vegas casino security back in the day meant you probably saw a lot things that weren’t quite right.”
“Yes, sir. See, what struck me as strange regarding Charlie Monroe was that, first of all, he never came into the office at that hour. For that matter, it was an unusual group of people gathering at an unusual time. But, I figured, hey, what do I know? The problem was, was that I didn’t see Charlie or a few of the others leave that night.”
“What do you mean?” Sanchez tossed his head back, whisking away the rogue strands of hair that had dropped in his eyes.
A waiter now stood in front of the men wit
h a wide, plastic smile and perfectly pressed black apron. “Can I get you gentlemen anything?”
“No thanks; we’re fine.” Vance’s tone seemed brisk and the waiter quickly took his leave, but not before pasting that stiff grin back onto his face.
“You were saying, Mr. Hart?” Sanchez continued.
“Please, call me Jim. Anyway, I got a call at my desk from Lucas Abbott that night, who was also meeting with Mr. Winters. He said he thought he heard something in the server room when he walked by after taking a restroom break, which was weird because the server room is on the second floor and he’d been up on fifteen with Winters and the other guys.”
“What other guys?” Huffman asked.
“A former employee named Chris Goyal. Don’t ask me why he was there, and Frank Winslow, VP of Sales. But, I told Abbott I’d check it out. I never really liked that kid, kind of a punk, you know? Doesn’t show much respect for people. So, I hauled my butt out of the chair and took a ride to the second floor to check out the computer room. Nothing. Lights were off and the only noise was the humming of the computers. I went back to my desk and went about my business. An hour or so later, Mr. Winters and Mr. Winslow came down and said good night, which was really good morning, since it was about one a.m. when they left.”
“And what about Abbott, Charlie, and Chris Goyal?” Sanchez asked.
“Already took off, I guess. I didn’t see any of them leave.”
“Okay, so they probably left when you were away from your desk. Why would that give you cause for concern?” Huffman looked to Vance, seemingly searching for corroboration that his question wasn’t off base.
“It didn’t, until I came in last night and heard about Charlie. Back in Vegas, lots of people disappeared. Mostly union or mob, kind of one in the same in those days, but we always combed the tapes thoroughly when someone went missing. We, the cops and us guys in security, worked together pretty closely back then.”