by Kris Calvert
“Yeah, well, I learned it from you.”
“Have a wonderful day, my dear.” Mimi waved and blew me a kiss.
“Wait,” I said, stopping in the hallway, coming back to the door. “Did I wear blue yesterday?”
“Honey, I don’t know what I wore yesterday.”
I shook my head and waved, anxious to get back to my new office.
I grabbed my notebook from my desk after noticing Miller’s door was closed. I took the opportunity to walk up to the reception area to wait and chat up Miss Little. “Stacy, I’m meeting with Miller at ten. Do you know if he’s in his office? His door is closed and I don’t—”
“Yes, he’s in there,” she replied, cutting me off without glancing my way. “He doesn’t like to be disturbed when his door is shut. I don’t really know what he does during his quiet time.”
Quiet time? Note to self–don’t touch his sweaty hands anymore.
“Sam…” began Stacy, giving me a we need to talk look.
“Okay, Miss Samantha.” Miller shouted my name, walking from his office and into view.
“Whoa!” I jumped as he poked me in the ribs with his finger.
“Let’s get started,” he laughed, knowing he was making me uncomfortable. He turned his attention to Miss Little. “Stacy, I think she has a hitch in her get-along today.”
She burst into fake laughter, escalating the awkwardness to gigantic proportions.
“Now you two are going to have to behave yourselves after I’m gone,” Stacy warned.
“Where are you going?” I asked, moving out of Miller’s reach in case he wanted to poke me again.
“Oh, I have a vacation coming up and Mr. Miller can’t keep me here,” she sang.
“Don’t worry,” Miller grumbled, giving me a short glance and looking to the floor. “I won’t.”
“Come on back, Sam, and we can get started,” Miller motioned with his arm.
I glanced back to Stacy long enough to see her throw a file on her desk and glare down the hall at me. I wasn’t making friends as quickly as I would have liked.
The boardroom contained a long and ornate table flanked by at least thirty chairs. I had no idea who used this room, but apparently their meetings were well attended. I sat to the left of the head of the table, instinctively knowing Miller would want to take the helm.
“So let’s chat about a few housekeeping items,” he began, closing the door and taking a seat. “A big part of your position here is going to be managing parts of PDC.”
“PDC?” I asked. “I’m not familiar with that term.”
“Physicians Development Corporation,” he continued. “It’s a limited liability corporation that the board of directors has set up in order to have funds set aside for special tasks.” The way he pursed his tiny little mouth when he spoke reminded me of a fish—open, close, open, close. Words were coming out with minimal movement. It was like watching a tiny donut speak.
“Special things?” I asked.
“Well, you don’t think we get physicians to come to Autumn Valley to practice just by offering them a salary, do you?” he asked with a wink.
“I’m not sure I follow.” I knew he was talking bonuses. I’d recruited everything from CEO’s to executive secretaries. If they were worth anything, they wanted something extra to change jobs.
“Well, the board of directors would rather have an arms-length position from the recruitment of physicians to our fine facility.”
“Arms-length?”
“Let’s just say, there are things the PDC can do for a potential recruit that Autumn Valley cannot.”
“And PDC can legally do these things?” I asked to be certain I understood. The last thing I wanted was to suddenly get involved in a perks poker game with the federal government.
“Legally, there are safe harbors that we must stay within. It’s much cleaner to operate out of the PDC.”
Quickly, I began to take notes.
“You don’t need to write any of this down, Miss Peterson,” Miller insisted, placing his hand over mine and closing my leather notebook.
“You make it sound like you’re conducting covert operations,” I joked, pulling my hands away from his and wondering what I’d gotten myself into.
“Nothing like that. You just have to understand the competitive world of the medical community. Our residents pay for and expect top-notch treatment and doctors. I can’t provide that if I can’t compete with the hospital-based practices that flourish in the other private sectors.”
I nodded to let him know I was smart enough to follow his train of thought.
“Autumn Valley has set up the LLC in order to take care of some of those needs without requiring board approval on every little detail or check that goes out the door. There are lots of dinners, tickets to sporting events, concerts…” he trailed off, looking down as if I was judging.
“I understand.”
“The board doesn’t like to know how we get our top notch physicians, just that we get them. Do you understand, Sam?”
“Yes,” I nodded, suddenly realizing I would need to do some fast research and learn to walk a tightrope with this position. The urge to take notes was overwhelmingly powerful, but I refrained. “What role am I playing in the PDC?”
“Well, there’s some cash that will be needed, tickets from scalpers to ballgames and concerts that we get from time to time, as well as signing bonus information that all needs to stay confidential,” he explained. “All standard, I just need you to take charge of the accounts and manage them so when we have a meeting of the PDC I can give a quick report of where the facility allocated funds are being used so that we can petition for more money as we need it.”
“Who has the existing records?” I asked, hoping he would at the very least be forthcoming with enough information that I wouldn’t hang myself out to dry.
“Stacy’s been handling the account for the last couple of years and done a fine job, but the board wants more substantial spreadsheets than her small one-page report each quarter.”
Based on the stink-eye she gave me coming into the meeting, I was guessing Stacy wouldn’t be helpful. “How soon can I get the records?”
“I’ll have her put what she has together today and have it on your desk tomorrow. I think you and Stacy will work really well together. She’s a single mother too, you know.”
I didn’t want to rehash my single motherhood yet again. “No. I didn’t know.”
“Yes. You mothers… ah, ladies need to stick together,” he said with a smarmy grin.
I gave him my best what the hell? look.
“Well… you know,” he stammered.
I nodded as I stood to leave. This guy didn’t know when to keep his puckering butt-hole of a mouth shut, yet I remained cordial. “I know what you mean.”
I marched out of the boardroom and past half-creepy Hector again. He was still, statuesque. Yet his eyes followed my every move.
“Hello, Hector,” I gulped as I moved toward him.
He nodded. “Señorita Peterson.”
I ducked into my office and quickly sat. I couldn’t help but notice the photo of Dax on my desk had been moved. Not so much that anyone else would notice, but I knew it wasn’t in its proper spot. The files I’d tossed on the credenza had been neatly stacked and set aside. Hector.
“Sam,” Stacy blurted, walking in and knocking on my door at the same time. “Mr. Miller wanted me to go over the PDC papers with you. When might be a good time?”
“Now is fine.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise and moved closer to my desk. Based on her put-upon sigh, I wanted to ask her if anyone really worked around here but thought better of it. “I’d rather get started sooner than later since it seems like there’s a bit of a learning curve with what the funds are used for,” I continued.
She curled her lip and narrowed her gaze. There was the stink-eye again.
“You seem surprised,” I said.
“No,
” she quipped, waving me off. “It’s just that it’s not all that complicated. Mr. Miller has me cut the checks by hand, and I record them and file the receipts with the contracts.”
“Well, I’d really like to take a look as soon as possible.”
“I didn’t know you were an accountant, Sam,” Stacy said with sarcasm.
“I’m not, Stacy,” I countered, refusing to shy away. “I would like to see the files, contracts and disbursement history for the LLC. Thank you.”
I immediately turned my attention to straightening my photo of Dax. Taking my leather notebook from my top right drawer, I began writing all that I remembered from my meeting with Miller. I waited for Stacy to leave before exhaling.
My phone immediately buzzed. “Yes?”
“I told Mr. Miller of your request for the PDC files and he said he would give them to you later. He wants you to focus on the new physicians for the time being.”
“Thank you, Stacy.”
How could I understand the protocol for recruiting if I couldn’t see what had set precedence? People talked, and I could guaran-damn-tee that regardless of a confidentiality clause, these doctors would compare perks from this place. I’d seen it a hundred times before in corporate recruiting: huge ego, small man-parts. It got them into trouble every time.
I carefully recorded the Physicians Development Corporation, LLC and the entirety of my meeting with Miller, making a list for myself:
Methods of contact
Standard contract
Amount per recruit for acquisition
Asset providers
Current relationships
I turned on the computer that was to be my new home and waited patiently for it to boot up. I’d pissed off the secretary who held the key to the information I needed to do my job, glared at my boss, and become paranoid that Hector had been going through my things. It had been a full morning. I picked up the email instructions to set my password and my mind began to roam.
Wondering if the handsome Mr. Callahan would be gracing the halls of Autumn Valley today, I, with explicit detail, replayed the day before in my head.
It was kinda fun to think about him since I knew nothing would ever come of it. Seriously. No one wanted to claim their own life-baggage, let alone mine. But, damn, he was one fine specimen of a man. Gallant, handsome and well spoken, he was what Mimi called a tall, cool drink of water on a hot day.
“Password must contain: seven letters, at least one upper case, one number and one symbol… as well as the name of your high school gym teacher.” I joked with myself aloud, trying my best to think of anything other than the meeting I’d just had or the meeting I desired with Mr. Callahan. I looked to the ceiling, trying to think of an easy to remember password and quickly typed in the first thing that came into my mind: MacCallahan#1 Save.
4
MAC
I spent most of my evening and the next morning poring through case file 56621 in the large circular study that had been my father’s at Lone Oak. The dark wood panels and low lighting were reminiscent of a time gone by. My father had spent countless hours in this room, and I could still feel his presence around me. There wasn’t much to his desk, only the essentials: letter opener, an incoming and outgoing correspondence area, an ancient quill and ink pot that had belonged to his grandfather, and one single frame—a photo of my mother, young, vibrant and beautiful, coyly hiding behind a nosegay of purple flowers. It hadn’t been moved from the same spot in over forty years. He adored my mother in a way that almost set the standard too high for any other man to love a woman.
I remember walking in on them embracing in the front hall as my father was leaving on a business trip. I overheard him whisper in her ear, You are my everything.
My view on love had always been that people looked for it, wanted to find it, and talked themselves into it. My parents weren’t looking, but collided. They were soul mates. Even now that term didn’t seem sufficient. Inseparable for years, Momma was undone when Dad died from a massive heart attack five years ago. The Alzheimer’s took her quickly, and when she wandered off the property of Lone Oak and became too easily confused, I knew it was time for her to be somewhere she could be watched over carefully.
It was amazing to me how I could feel so comfortable sitting at his desk, knowing it was where he died. It should bug the hell out of me, but instead it seemed to inspire me to do better, be more—maybe just be more like him.
I sat back in Dad’s chair, taking a deep breath and stretching my arms as far as I could. I dropped my head and closed my eyes for just a moment, hoping to curb the tired, burning sensation.
I smelled flowers. Her blue eyes looked up to me as she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. I knew what was coming. Aw hell, this was fantastic. She moaned, and each sound vibrated through my entire body, taking me to the edge and leaving me stranded. I wanted more. She tightened her lips and I felt it all the way to my toes. The rise and fall with each purse of her beautiful mouth was magical and took me higher. She paused, and gazed up and into me with her beautiful blue eyes. I sighed, and she responded with a quiet moan. Mmmmm….
“I brought you some sweet tea, baby.”
“Shit,” I groaned aloud waking with a start. From my slumped position behind the desk, I looked around in a trance. I ran my hands through my hair and rubbed my face. I was tired, confused and clearly horny.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, baby. You were dreamin’,” Miss Celia informed me.
By the look on her face, she was mortified for me. I was dazed, but knew I was still fully charged. I looked down at my crotch to make sure I wasn’t completely embarrassing myself, only to find the case file perfectly perched on my lap. The reality of what transpired while I was sleeping was quickly taking the wind from my sails, but not the thought from my mind or the bulge from my pants.
“I’m sorry, Miss Celia,” I apologized, carefully keeping the papers in my lap.
“Are you getting your work done?” she asked, placing the silver tray on the large table in the middle of the study.
“Yeah,” I sighed, rubbing my eyes trying to wake up. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was a little distracted at first working in Dad’s study.”
“You know,” she said, bringing me the glass and a linen napkin. “We’ve never moved anything in this room. Your momma wouldn’t have it. And after she moved to Autumn Valley we just left well enough alone.”
I nodded as Celia looked around the room, clearly recalling moments of the past. “Dad was always so neat. I, on the other hand, keep a huge mess on my desk most of the time.”
“Baby,” she grinned, taking the empty tray and turning for the door. “You’re a lot more like your daddy than you think. Let me know if you need anything.”
I took a deep breath and a sip of sweet tea. I needed to cool off and focus on case 56621, yet all I could think about was the dream. Freud thought sex dreams were based on wish fulfillment, but getting head wasn’t something I longed for. I could get it anytime. My question was who in the hell was the girl?
I took a deep breath and tried to dismiss it. I had work to do. I needed to go through the files with a fine-toothed comb. What was I missing? Why go out of the way to encrypt email messages from an anonymous server to rat on someone at an upscale nursing home? Either someone had a lot to hide, or they were afraid of what would happen if they told the truth.
I’d seen it hundreds of times, especially cases that involved the mafia. No one wanted to be the snitch, but when forced to come clean, feared the inevitable consequences. But this was no big city mafia case. This was a small town scumbag. And someone was going to a hell of a lot of trouble to cover their tracks.
I had a list of the board members and their phone numbers, but if I called to ask questions I’d only arouse suspicion. They would panic and I’d blow my cover. This was no time to create speculation.
I sent out emails to the IT department copying Dan and asking for as much information as
they could give me. I wanted to know every detail. The tech geeks were good at gathering facts, but I was better at finding the small nuances that were never driven by technology, but human nature.
I rang Micah at the office to find out what I’d been missing the past couple of days.
“Mac Callahan’s office,” she rasped.
“Micah.”
“Yo, Mac.”
“You holdin’ down the fort?” I joked. “Or is the whole place goin’ to hell in a hand basket?”
“That didn’t take long,” she heckled.
“What?”
“The Southern accent has gotten even stronger,” she said with an obnoxious laugh. “We may need to call someone up from the language department when you get back to translate.”
“Whatever, Micah,” I snapped, careful not to hang on the last syllable of her name. “Have I had any calls?”
“Nothing that can’t wait.” She quickly backpedaled, knowing I was pissed. “I’m putting together your postal, FedEx and interoffice hardcopies and overnighting it to your address in Shadeland. You’ll have it tomorrow.”
“Thanks. Call me if something comes up.”
“Yak atcha later.”
“If you’re lucky,” I grumbled and hung up, my mind already moving on. I picked up my suit coat and grabbed the keys to Pussy.
“I’m headin’ over to see Momma, Miss Celia!” I shouted as I walked through the screen door in the kitchens.
“Okay, baby,” I heard her say from somewhere deep inside the house.
It wasn’t that she needed to know, but it felt good knowing someone cared where I was.
5
MAC
I drove the twenty minutes to Autumn Valley thinking the trip would be over all too soon. Time passed quickly on the open road behind the wheel of Dad’s car. I pulled into the lane that led to the nursing home, noticing a few patients enjoying the warm spring afternoon. Out on the lawn, a couple of them were playing chess, and a younger lady was reading to some residents in the rose garden. I wanted to feel like I’d made the best decision for Mom to live at Autumn Valley, but at the same time I was so pissed about what was going on there. My usual tactic would be to march into the office, flash a badge, and rile everyone up. But in Shadeland, I knew better. I could catch more flies with honey than vinegar.