Claudia's Surrender

by S. J. Lewis

“Gotcha, Chief,” he grinned. It was the kind of assignment he liked, and he was very good at what he did. “You want me to go now?”

  “If you would,” she answered. “We’re going to have to have something going for us until that insurance company gives up and pays.” It might also be a good idea to call that company’s main office. She made a mental note to try it later.

  The day stretched on, long and quiet. The phone rang at irregular intervals. Claudia noticed that Amanda handled each one skillfully; screening them, politely getting rid of the ones that needed getting rid of and only passing on the ones that needed Claudia’s personal attention…not that there were many of those today. It was hard to reconcile her performance with the soft-spoken, painfully shy young woman she was used to in the office. She’d have to send along a good, solid reference when Amanda went back to the temp agency.

  She made the phone calls to politely decline all the spouse-spying requests. It didn’t take anywhere near long enough. There really wasn’t a lot happening today, and she found herself regarding Amanda more closely. Normally, she’d have interviewed her in person before hiring her, but with all the…excitement of the Bowman case and Sam coming to look her up after two years, she’d relied on Marabel’s judgement. She’d never had any reason to doubt it before, and Amanda had certainly picked up on the office routine with minimal supervision…but there was something about the younger woman that piqued her curiosity.

  Amanda wasn’t exactly plain…most men would certainly find her attractive, in a shy and retiring kind of way. She used very little makeup and dressed very plainly in long skirts, earth-tone blouses and low-heeled shoes. She appeared to have a limited wardrobe as well. While her clothes were always neat and clean, most of them seemed a bit worn. She drove an older model car, a small light-blue Japanese thing that probably gave her good gas mileage. She usually brought her own small lunch to the office, always in a brown paper bag. Okay, so she chose to live inexpensively. You pretty much had to do that when working temp jobs, but Amanda was certainly sharp enough to land a permanent position that paid a lot better.

  As an old detective had once told her over beers in a dark and crowded bar, there was always a reason for everything. Sometimes, you could figure it out all by yourself and sometimes when you did that you figured it out all wrong. You should always start by asking questions.

  That was good advice, but she barely knew Amanda, and any questions she’d want to ask might be painfully personal to her. Besides…she was a temp, and once Marabel came back from whatever family business needed her attention, she would probably never see Amanda again. Maybe she could invite her for coffee after work. It would give her a chance to apologize for being so bitchy these past few days and maybe find out a little more about Amanda. Claudia shrugged and turned back to her computer.

  The afternoon dragged. The phone hardly rang at all, and she found herself dragging out a conversation with a local businessman who was absolutely certain his partner was stealing from him simply because it gave her something to do. She took down the information he gave to her. It sounded like a job for a sharp accountant rather than a private investigator, but work was work, and she had to find something to fill the dreary emptiness now that Sam was gone.

  It was a little after four-thirty. She was thinking about what to do after work when the phone rang one more time. Amanda answered it. Whoever was on the other end of the line apparently wanted to talk to Claudia Cole immediately, but Amanda kept trying to find out what it was about first.

  “Amanda,” Claudia said quietly.

  “Hold, please.” Amanda hit a button on her phone and looked over at her.

  “It’s all right. I’ll take the call.”

  Amanda nodded and hit the button again. “I can put you through now,” she said. She hit another button and Claudia’s phone rang. Once. Twice.

  She picked it up just as the third ring began. Whoever it was could just wait for a bit for giving Amanda a hard time.

  “Claudia Cole.” She winked briefly at Amanda, who had been watching and no doubt wondering what was going on. Amanda smiled and returned to her work. She had a very nice smile. She ought to use it more often.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Cole.” The voice at the other end sounded female, fussy, middle-aged and a little bit annoyed. There was a pause.

  “Yes?” Claudia prompted.

  “Ms. Cole, I’m calling on behalf of Simonds Assurance.”

  “Yes? I’m afraid that doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  Another pause. Claudia waited.

  “I’m calling in regards to the matter of the bond on a Mr. James Andersen.”

  Another pause. “I’m afraid that doesn’t mean anything to me either,” Claudia said evenly. “Could you please get to the point? My time is valuable. I’m sure yours is as well.”

  “I see.” The woman at the other end took a breath. “Very well. Mr. Andersen was in charge of accounting and payroll on a large construction project here. He has disappeared and so has a very large amount of money. He was bonded through our company, and we are now liable for that very large amount.”

  “Go on.” Claudia leaned forward a little.

  “Ah…we are asking if you would be interested in this case. We are prepared to pay you quite well, for only a small amount of your time: A week, perhaps ten days.”

  “And exactly where are you located?” Claudia asked. Fussy Woman told her.

  “That’s no good. I’m only licensed in this state.” She was beginning to wonder just how Sam could have pulled something like this off. Why did he ever think it was going to work?

  “We can deal with that. You’ll be a contract employee of our company while you are out here. We will handle any and all legal questions.”

  “I see.” Now Claudia leaned back in her chair. “How did you happen to pick me for this assignment?”

  “I did not select you. That decision was made higher up.”

  The tone of the woman’s voice told Claudia that she didn’t approve of that decision at all. That might explain some of her attitude. She was probably some mid-level bureaucrat, the kind who would dutifully carry out an order she thought ill-advised, but act like a sullen child while doing it.

  “I see.” Claudia took a deep breath, held it for a moment, exhaled. She was dead certain that Sam was behind this somehow. “You said your company was prepared to pay me quite well. Could you give me a figure?”

  Fussy Woman gave her a figure. It was substantial. She went on: “Of course, we would also pay transportation and expenses. And, in the event that you recover any of the missing funds, you will be eligible to receive a percentage.” The tone of her voice indicated that she doubted Claudia could find even a penny dropped on the sidewalk, let alone a big pile of stolen cash.

  Throwing in travel and expenses put the total beyond substantial. It could very easily tide her agency over until the insurance company paid up.

  “Time is of the essence, Ms. Cole. We must have an answer within twenty-four hours.”

  Okay, this was a new wrinkle. “Why the deadline?” She could hear Fussy sigh.

  “It is believed that if the money is not found quickly, there is no chance of finding it at all,” she said. It sounded as if she were explaining something to a slow-witted child.

  As handy as the more-than-substantial amount would be, Claudia felt more irritation than interest now. She didn’t like the idea of Sam manipulating her from a distance, and she really didn’t care for Fussy Woman’s attitude.

  “Thank you, no,” she said.

  “May I ask why?”

  “You may ask,” Claudia replied, and then hung up the phone. She turned towards Amanda. “It’s almost five,” she called out. “Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee after work?”

  ***

  Claudia pulled into her usual parking space at her apartment building a little over an hour later. She was not in a good mood. Coffee with Amanda had given her a chance to apologize. A
manda had accepted the apology with a smile, but she had not stayed past the first cup. She’d been very apologetic about it, but she’d seemed terribly nervous. Claudia had wondered at first if Amanda thought she was trying to hit on her. In any case, it hadn’t been much of a conversation.

  What was really gnawing at her, though, was the thought of turning down what could have been a very lucrative offer. She realized that the feeling wasn’t entirely rational. But, really, she couldn’t afford to be away from her office for any length of time…could she? Well, it was too late to do anything about it now. She gathered up her few things, locked the car, and started towards her apartment.

  She’d no sooner locked the door behind her than her phone started ringing. She hoped it would be Sam calling her. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Ms. Cole?” It was a man’s voice, deep and melodious, but it wasn’t Sam.

  “If you’re trying to sell me something, I’m not interested.” She was about to hang up before he said anything else, but she heard him laugh, and paused.

  “Ms. Cole,” whoever it was went on, “First let me apologize for the behavior of our representative who called you earlier today.”

  ‘What representative?’ Claudia thought back. ‘Did he mean Fussy Woman?’

  “ I’m calling on behalf of Simonds Assurance. Let me assure you…” he chuckled once. “Her behavior was very unprofessional. We do not conduct business that way, she has been reprimanded.”

  “Your apology is accepted, but if you think I’m going to change my mind…”

  “Ms. Cole, it is my assigned duty to convince you to change your mind.”

  “I’m afraid you’re wasting your time.”

  “I’m willing to run that risk if you’re willing to hear me out.”

  Claudia sighed. “All right,” she said. “Go on.”

  Chapter Ten

  There were times Claudia wished she’d lived in an earlier age, when travel had something mysterious and romantic about it. There should be something awe-inspiring about traveling six miles above the ground at half the speed of sound, but taking a trip by plane now had all the charm and excitement of taking a bus. One plane looked and felt very much like any other plane, one terminal looked and felt much like any other terminal. It all boiled down to sitting in a long metal tube surrounded by strangers and waiting. In the meantime, you took it on faith that whoever was driving the thing knew what they were doing and that whoever maintained the machinery was competent and thorough. Every airline tried to reassure its passengers that air travel was safe, citing statistics to prove it. They also did their best to insulate those passengers from noise, discomfort and boredom. There were in-flight movies, always bland and inoffensive, or your choice of music piped into earphones. The music was usually bland and inoffensive as well. Maybe a bus trip would be more exciting after all.

  She sighed inwardly and looked out though the window again. From way up here, the scenery was just as bland and inoffensive as everything else. Flying over the mountains earlier had been interesting, but for over an hour now they’d been passing over endless plains and there wasn’t much to see. She returned to the folder Simonds Assurance had delivered to her office that morning. It held all the information available on the disappearance of one James Andersen and just under three-quarters of a million dollars in cash. The police reports told her very little. Friday morning, his assistant and two clerks arrived at the pay office to find the safe opened and emptied.

  Mr. Andersen was the only person there with the combination to the safe. No one had seen him since roughly nine o’clock the previous night. The police had arrived at the logical conclusion that he’d stolen the money and skipped. Local, county and state police were all on the lookout for him.

  She looked at the picture provided of Mr. Andersen. He looked like a geeky little guy, mid to late forties, round-faced and balding. The wire-framed glasses he wore made him look exactly like an accountant…or an insurance salesman. At first glance, he also looked entirely unremarkable, except for his eyes. They were also round, and blue, but behind those glasses they looked somehow calculating and warm at the same time. However bland he might look on the outside, there was a keen and observant intelligence there. She didn’t see anything about his face that would suggest he would steal, but the most effective criminals were the ones who just didn’t look the part.

  He also didn’t look like the kind of man Sam would have anything in common with, but Sam had described him as one of his best friends. How had they met?

  More to the point, some aspects of this case bothered her. In this age of electronic money, why were they running such a large payroll in cash? It seemed an invitation for just this sort of thing to happen. Security around the pay offices had been pretty lax too. There was supposed to be two rent-a-cops on duty the night of the theft, but one of them had gone home sick without calling it in. He’d done that once or twice before and had been warned about it. The other was apparently a problem drinker. He hadn’t called in his partner’s absence either. Both had been fired the next day. Both had been interrogated by the police. Neither one had been able to offer any useful information. She hoped the police were still keeping tabs on them. She knew she would be. Something about this stank.

  There was sloppy police work, and there was lazy police work. The reports she’d read reeked more than a little of both. She could follow the line of reasoning. The safe hadn’t been forced. Mr. Andersen was the only one with the combination. Ergo, Mr. Andersen had opened the safe and run off with the money. It was all very plain and simple. It might even be correct. Still, something about it bothered her. She closed the folder and her eyes. She had a week to work with. That was all Simonds Assurance would pay for. She hoped it would be enough.

  ***

  As the plane lost altitude during its landing approach, the scenery outside became more interesting in a stark kind of way, sand and rocks, for the most part, in varying shades of red and brown, sprinkled with little gray-green bushes. The only large plant life she could see, aside from some cactus, looked like trees from Mars. It looked hot outside…hot and very dry. She could feel her skin starting to shrivel up already.

  She went from the air-conditioned plane to an air-conditioned tube that led to the air-conditioned terminal, grateful for the protective cocoon of technology. She hoped she wouldn’t have to spend too much time outdoors here. She’d dressed for comfort and for protection in jeans, comfortable walking shoes and a long-sleeved, loose-fitting white shirt. In her luggage, she’d packed a couple of wide-brimmed hats. She was going to retrieve one of them and put it on before she left the terminal.

  ***

  Simonds Assurance had wanted to provide her with a driver. She’d turned down the offer, insisting on a rental car instead. She preferred to do her own driving and suspected that any driver they provided would also be spying on her and reporting back to the main office. One of the men at the rental agency took quite a liking to her and insisted on accompanying her to her car He insisted on carrying her luggage as well. When they stepped out of the terminal building, she expected to walk into a furnace. She was pleasantly surprised when it felt only a bit warm.

  “What’s the temperature here today?” she asked.

  “Only ninety-six,” her self-appointed escort replied, smiling. He was tall, rangy, tanned, good-looking and, since he appeared to be in his mid-twenties, about ten years younger than she was. He told her his name was Brian.

  Her car was a late-model white sedan. Brian insisted on showing her all of the safety features, just in case, he said. It was terribly flattering, so she let him go on. It was reassuring to know that there was a desert survival kit, complete with instructions, stowed in the trunk anyway. When he finally ran out of features to point out, she thanked him with a smile. When she took the keys from him, she let her fingertips brush briefly across his hand. She wasn’t really interested, but he’d been so very polite a
nd attentive she felt that she had to leave him with something.

  She started the car up. The engine sounded good. She left the driver’s door open while the air conditioner worked its way up to speed and took the time to look over the instructions from Simonds and the little road maps provided by the rental agency.

  The airport appeared to be a couple of miles away from town. Well, there was plenty of room around here, if not much else. Why not use it? There was one main road running straight from the airport into town. It was imaginatively named “Airport Road”. There were some smaller roads that seemed to do the same job, but they wandered all over the place before getting anywhere. One of them puzzled her until she noticed on the map legend that a dashed line meant a trail, not a road. What was the difference?

  The air conditioner was pushing an arctic blast out of the dashboard now. She doffed her big hat, shut the door, adjusted the seat, seatbelt and mirrors and pulled out of the parking lot.

  In the distance, no matter which way she looked, she could see mountains, but the ground here was so flat that she could see the town easily. Even from a distance it looked more like a small city, though it didn’t seem to have any tall buildings. She began to pass housing developments, sprawling tracts of sprawling one-story houses. Some had lawns surrounding them. They were the first patches of real green she’d seen here, and it was jarring. How much work and water went into keeping a lawn in the desert? Most of the homesteads also sported swimming pools, but she didn’t see anyone using them.

  Her hotel was in town, just off the main drag. Simonds Assurance had rented an office a few blocks away, for her use. They’d also provided a small staff to help her. She was willing to bet that they were supposed to keep an eye on her as well. She’d have to meet them, of course, but first she was going to check in at the hotel. After hours stuck on the plane she wanted a shower…and something to eat. The last time she’d been on a long flight, the airline had served a meal. All she’d been offered on this flight was a very small bag of tasteless nuts and her choice of soda or water.