The safety paper was missing.
The FBI raided Town Hall looking for mayor’s records and vital statistics records.
I alerted the state registrar to the missing paper.
The state registrar was dead.
I knew about the paper.
I was accused of a crime I did not commit.
Bonnie knew about the paper.
Bonnie was fired for a bogus reason.
Lorraine was the only person who knew where the safety paper was moved to, other than Bonnie.
More paper went missing.
Lorraine is Mayor O’Donnell’s friend who got a job making more money than any other employee in Sunshine.
The mayor could be placed at the scene of the crime within twenty-four hours of the burglary, flood, and computer/phone tampering incidents.
There was also an arson, making that four attempts to sabotage the building with no arrests made.
That was more than a dozen facts. I was starting to connect the dots. Was I being paranoid or had my suspicions all along been accurate? I truly believed the mayor was guilty. I wasn’t sure about Lorraine. Either she was involved or she had some real good dirt on Mayor O’Donnell and was blackmailing her for a job.
I used my lunch break to call Agent Romeo and spill my guts about all of my suspicions, but I only got his voice mail. I was feeling apprehensive. If I was right and they killed Mr. Alfred, then what would they do to me? They already had me arrested. They knew where I lived, what hours I worked, the names and address of my parents. Would they hurt Mandy to get to me? I shuddered at my thoughts and hoped that I was overreacting. I had accused Bonnie of being a drama queen, but maybe that title suited me more.
After lunch, I tried to drown myself in work to get those insane thoughts out of my head. Whenever I kept busy, I didn’t feel so afraid. I had to keep telling myself that I concocted the notion of the mayor being an arch criminal and that I was making it all up to exact revenge on her for having me arrested. After all, I was absolutely, without a doubt, a disgruntled employee.
Later that day, I received a call back from Agent Romeo. I excused myself to go sit in my car to talk to him without Big Brother’s prying ears. I recited my list of facts to him and told him to take it for what it was worth. I didn’t want to be held accountable if something bad happened and I never informed some kind of authority.
“Must be nice to be able to leave the office whenever you want,” Lorraine squealed at me as I walked back in the room.
There were so many things I wanted to say—it must be nice to make $120,000.00 per year and not have to lift a finger to do anything, for one. More than saying something, I wanted to shove my boot into her mouth and knock a couple of her teeth out. But, instead of sarcasm and violence, I opted to kill her with kindness. I just smiled and went back to work.
* * *
There was a terrible stench filling the lobby when I entered the building for work the following morning. I noticed public works was painting the hallways and stairwell. I went to my office and opened up the windows. Even though it was nippy outside, I felt lightheaded and needed the fresh air. Exhaustion, frustration, and anxiety had taken its toll on me this week. I reminded myself that I already made it through two days back at work and if I could make it through the pains of labor, I could make it through the rest of this week. I contemplated seeing a doctor and getting some happy pills to make work seem more bearable.
Lorraine came in to work late again. “Did you oversleep?” I asked her sarcastically.
She squawked back at me with her nose in the air, “No, I had a meeting with Mayor O’Donnell.” I guessed that was her new excuse for showing up whenever she felt the urge.
“Mayor O’Donnell wants this office to be used as the official mayor’s office since there isn’t one in the building. She wants you to move into the basement. She already made arrangements and had public works move a desk down there for you,” Lorraine announced.
“Is that so?” I asked.
Oh, so the bad little girl that I am is getting banished to the basement, I thought. Unbelievable. The mayor was rarely ever in the building; there was really no need for a mayor’s office and if she thought there was, then she should have been put in the basement. I marched out of my office and over to Rodney’s to see if I really had to move into the basement, where there were no other offices. I tried to point out to him that the senior citizens that came in to pay their taxes and get their beach badges or dog licenses at the same time were not going to want to trudge downstairs.
“It wasn’t my decision,” Rodney said without even looking up at me.
I walked back into the hallway and went to the ladies’ room to cool off. After thinking about it for a bit, I realized I’d be just fine and dandy getting away from Lorraine in my face all day every day, so moving to the basement wasn’t such a bad idea.
Upon entering my office, I promptly announced that I was happy to move and I’d be doing so immediately. I grabbed a cart, disconnected all my computer wires, and loaded up my computer, printer, and all of the paperwork I was currently working on. I dialed the number to the public works department and asked them if they would be able to move my phone as soon as possible and to move the rest of my file cabinets when they had time.
I purposely packed the safety paper and the cash box. I wasn’t taking any chances. I decided to mix the safety paper in with a bunch of files so that it couldn’t be readily seen by Lorraine on my way out. When my cart was filled, I headed out to the elevator. It appeared the stairwell was off limits to residents for the day too, because of the painting going on. It finally made sense why the mayor was having the stairwell painted, I presumed she wanted it to look somewhat presentable to the people who have to come in to my office. After all, these were the same people that would be voting in November when her current term was up.
The elevator was taking forever. I didn’t understand why. There was only this floor and the basement in the building. The doors started to open slowly and I heard a horrible screeching sound. I hesitated for a minute because I thought it sounded bad.
“Hiya, dolly,” I heard from behind me. I turned around to look and saw it was Rose Sciaratta. I gave her a big smile. I liked Rose.
“Rose! How nice to see you. What brings you here today?”
“I came to see you.”
“You did? What can I do for you?”
“I want to know if I can pick up the poll books and supplies for my district. I get paid an extra twenty-five dollars for that, you know. An old lady like me is on a fixed income; I could use the extra money.”
“Sure, Rose, no one else has called me yet, so I’ll put you down. I’ll have everything the day before the election, just come in…”
I was interrupted by an ear-piercing squeal. Rose and I both stuck our fingers in our ears.
“That don’t sound good, honey,” Rose said.
“I know,” I said as we took a step back from the elevator.
The elevator rumbled, then crashed to the ground. The entire building shook. The crash was so loud, I thought a bomb had detonated. Dust flew up from the shaft and permeated the air. We covered our faces. I grabbed Rose’s arm and escorted her out of the building as fast as her arthritic old legs could go. Police officers hurried across the parking lot from headquarters and entered the municipal building. Sirens from the fire trucks blared in the distance. Employees ran out of the building, coughing.
It wasn’t until I was safely in the parking lot that I realized if Rose hadn’t stopped me, I might have been inside the elevator when it plummeted to the basement level. I felt choked up and I gave Rose a big hug.
“Rose, I think you just saved my life,” I told her.
“Now, now, sweetie, you’re okay. We’re both okay,” she said, patting me on the back.
There usually wasn’t anyone in the basement, but Rodney was outside taking a head count just in case. When he was sure all of the employees had made it out, he
told us all to go home for the day. On my way to pick up Mandy, my paranoia set in. Several questions floated in my head: Was the elevator tampered with? Was the accident meant for me? Was someone trying to have me killed?
Chapter 15
It was Columbus Day and I was thrilled to have a four-day work week and extra time to settle my nerves from the elevator incident. I was due to meet Bonnie for lunch. I lived a little closer to Jackson than Bonnie did, but since I had to drop off Mandy, I told Bonnie I would pick her up.
Bonnie’s house was powder blue. “You had your siding painted again?” I asked her.
“I get bored and now that I’m no longer employed, I have too much free time on my hands.”
“Your husband must want to kill you.”
“Just a little. I told him I did it for him since he hated the pink. He keeps telling me to find another job.”
“I’ll drive today since you drove last time.”
“Works for me! That means I can have a couple of drinks.”
We hopped into my car and I turned out of her driveway toward the causeway. My Honda Accord was quite a large step down from Bonnie’s fancy Mercedes. Bonnie turned and looked behind her.
“That’s strange,” she said.
“What’s strange?” I asked.
“That black sedan behind us. It had been sitting across the street from my house for the past hour and now it’s following us. All the windows are tinted.”
“You’re starting to be paranoid like me,” I told her. “It’s not surprising they are following us; this is basically the only route off the island.”
“I suppose.”
We continued driving off the island and through Madisen Township. I opted to take the back roads to Jackson to avoid traffic.
“Speaking of being paranoid, I have a story to tell you about the elevator at work…” I started to say when I was interrupted by the sound of a car revving its engine. The car sped up behind us. I glanced into my rearview mirror and could no longer see the bumper of the black sedan. Then smack! We were jolted forward upon the impact. The black car hit us. I slammed on the brakes and the sedan swerved to my left into the lane of oncoming traffic.
“What the hell?” Bonnie screamed as we felt a second impact in the side rear panel of the driver’s side. My car was pushed over into the right shoulder. I held tight to the steering wheel, trying to force it left. It was all I could do to keep the car on the road. The black car slammed on its brakes and shot behind us when a tractor-trailer was approaching it head-on. It then revved its engine again, coming for us from behind.
Bonnie yelled, “Speed up! They’re going to hit us again.”
I frantically pressed the pedal down like she said. I could barely think. I tried to reach over to my purse and grab my cell phone, when whack! We were hit again, thrusting us forward. My head hit the steering wheel. My purse and its contents went flying. I was afraid the airbags would go off and I wouldn’t be able to see. My heart was pounding. I was terrified.
“They’re trying to kill us,” I said in a panic to Bonnie.
“Well, they’re not going to be successful. See if you can get them to pull up alongside of you again.”
“What? Are you out of your freaking mind?” I shouted. “You want me to get next to them? They probably have guns!”
“Well, so do I,” Bonnie said as she reached into her purse and pulled out a small handgun.
“Where the heck did you get a gun?” I asked.
The sedan pulled into the left lane again and increased in speed in an attempt to get alongside of us. I crouched as low as I could behind the steering wheel, took a deep breath, held it, and tried my best to hold the car steady. My whole body was trembling.
Bonnie rolled down her window and climbed halfway out, aiming and shooting at the black car. “Pop, pop, pop.” She fired three times. I heard car tires screeching and I looked into my rearview mirror to see that the mystery car had veered off the road and was smoking. I started to breathe again.
“Good shot,” I said as I sped off down the road as fast as my demolished Honda would go, trying to get away as quickly as possible.
“Thanks. My husband and I go to the shooting range on occasion. It’s a hobby of ours. We went this Saturday. I had forgotten to take the gun out of my purse. Good thing!”
My heart was in my throat. My hands were shaking uncontrollably and I was still in a frenzy. I had gone into survival mode and the adrenaline was starting wearing off. I was probably going into shock. “Are they following us? Where do you think the nearest police station is? Are you going to get in trouble for shooting a gun? Would you call 9-1-1 from your cell phone?”
“I’m already dialing. I don’t think they are following us, but keep driving just in case. Make a bunch of turns so they don’t know where we went. And no, I don’t think I’ll get in trouble for shooting a gun. I have a permit, and it was self-defense. And, if I do get in trouble, it’s better than being dead. Plus, I have enough money for a good attorney.”
I found an old diner and parked behind it, where my car couldn’t have been easily spotted. I wasn’t sure where we were. Bonnie gave our location to the police, then the two of us went inside and sat in the back, near the kitchen, so we could make a discreet exit out of the service entrance if we so needed.
We both ordered coffee. I had lost my appetite. “Too bad we didn’t find a bar instead of a diner. I could use a stiff martini,” Bonnie said.
“I could use a whole lot more than one martini,” I said. “A bottle of them would be nice.”
“Did you get a license plate on that car, by chance?”
“Heck no, I was too busy trying to stay on the road. I guess you didn’t either?”
Bonnie shook her head.
“Do you know what the make or model was?” I asked her.
“Not a clue. I know what you are thinking; you are thinking Mayor O’Donnell put a hit out on us,” Bonnie said half jokingly.
“What other scenario makes sense?”
“Who knew where you would be today?”
“Only my parents, unless one of our phone lines are tapped. Do you have any enemies you aren’t telling me about?” I asked Bonnie.
“Lorraine hates me and the mayor fired me.”
“Lorraine!”
“What?”
“Lorraine may have overheard my conversation with you earlier in the week. She would have known I was meeting you for lunch today.”
“Maybe you’re not off your rocker after all. You better call those FBI guys and let them know.”
“I will.”
The local police arrived and took a report. They said I shouldn’t be driving my car, so they had it towed for me. The damage was extensive. Bonnie called her husband to give us a ride home.
“So much for Bratz,” Bonnie said.
“That’s the least of my worries,” I said as I pulled out my phone. I called Agent Romeo and gave him the scoop on what happened. Jayce dropped me off at my parents’ house and I had to explain to them why I didn’t have a car.
“That’s it!” my father exclaimed. “You are not going back to that evil place you call work. There are more important things than that hellhole. You go home and get your things, and you are staying with us. You have a daughter to worry about and you are not safe living there alone.”
I felt like a five-year-old child being scolded. I knew he was right. I wasn’t safe and this wasn’t worth me taking my life into my hands. I could probably go out on stress leave; I certainly had enough stress! I borrowed their car and drove back to my place to gather what I needed for a long while.
Packing for an eight-month-old was not a quick and easy task. It was good that my parents babysat Mandy, because the big items were at their house already, like a swing, highchair, and crib. As I was running around the house throwing necessitates into a bag, the phone rang.
“Hello? Hello?”
No one was there. I shrugged it off and kept going. I had
a lot of things to gather. I took out a suitcase and started packing up my clothes. A few moments later, I heard a noise outside. I froze. I could hear my heart beating. I was terrified it was the people from the black car coming to kill me again. I reached under my bed for the baseball bat I kept there for emergencies. If someone was there, I wasn’t going down without a fight. I turned off the bedroom light and stayed there, hidden in the dark. I saw a shadow of a person outside the bedroom window and heard the doorbell ring.
I ran to the phone in the hallway, dialed 9-1-1, and told them someone was trying to get in. I heard the window in my bedroom shatter. Without thinking, I ran toward the window with my bat and swung as hard as I could at the hand that was trying to lift open the window. I made contact. There was a yelp from a man’s voice. I screamed out, “I called the police five minutes ago; you’d better get running.” I could hear sirens in the distance, which made me feel reassured that I would be safe.
An extremely nice female police officer from Madisen Township named Patricia took my statement, while others collected evidence. She stayed with me while I packed my things. The premises were searched, but no traces of the perpetrators were found. I asked Patricia if she could call Agent Romeo and tell him about the incident. When I told her about the situation that occurred earlier in the day, she provided me with a police escort back to my parents’ house.
My parents were alarmed to see the police vehicle with me. Patricia waited until I was settled inside. Mom cried when I told her someone tried to break-in. Dad took out his old hunting rifles and bullets. He wasn’t taking any chances.
* * *
Against my parents’ wishes, I went in to work the next morning. I wanted to clear out the personal items that I had in and on my desk, like my photos of Mandy. My plan was to find a psychologist to write me out of work on stress leave. If the mayor wanted me gone, I would be gone, but I was going to make darn sure that I was still getting paid.
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