Office Heretics (A Coffee & Crime Mystery Book 2)

by Nan Sampson

  After that side trip, though, she’d find somewhere decent to have lunch before returning to the condo to start in on Lacey's desk. Surely there would be something in that obsessively organized collection.

  Outside on the sidewalk, she had that unnerving sensation of being watched again. She glanced around, but none of the handful of people hurrying along in the chilly Chicago afternoon, on their way from here to there, seemed to be paying the slightest attention to her. She looked up, to the top floor of the building, to what she thought was Lacey's bedroom window, half expecting to see a figure standing there looking down at her.

  But of course, there was no one there. Shaking off the feeling, attributing it to being in the city, and her dislike of the crowded claustrophobic sense it gave her, she hailed a cab and headed back to Ristorante Angelinas.

  Chapter 29

  When she got to the restaurant, it was still early, but the staff was there, getting ready for the lunch service. Ellie tapped on the glass door, peering in. Vittorio came bustling up from a back room, buttoning his vest. When he saw her, she saw a spark of recognition in his eyes and he smiled and opened the door. "Well, hello! We're not actually open yet. Did you come back to book the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner?"

  Gods and Goddesses, she hated lying. She gave him a smile. "Um, actually, I was hoping you could provide me with a pricing sheet? We really enjoyed dinner the other night and this would be the perfect location, but of course money is always a concern"

  He nodded. "Don't I know it." He glanced around her out the front door, and seeing no one there, stepped out from behind the podium. The manager isn't here yet, but I know he keeps some brochures in a folder in his office. If you'll just wait here, I'll go get you one."

  "Actually, if you don't mind, I'm just going to run to the Ladies Room - it was a long drive. I'll meet you back here okay?"

  He chuckled, and she could almost hear his thought - 'women and their tiny bladders'. Out loud, however, he merely said, "Take your time."

  She gave him a smile and a little wave then hurried off down the hall to the lavatory. The ladies room was the door on the left and the men’s room was right across the hall to the right. Just beyond, at the very end of the hall way was a fire exit that clearly led out into the alley. She slipped into the ladies room and after looking into each of the stalls to make sure there was no one else in there, she got down on her hands and knees and started searching the floor for whatever had clinked and skittered away in her vision. Chances are whatever that was had already been swept up. But if it hadn't been, and it was still there to find, it could lead her right to the killer.

  The floor wasn't all that clean - although what public bathroom floor was – and that made her hopeful. But after several minutes of crawling around on her hands and knees and wondering with a shudder just what kinds of germs she was bringing home to a houseful of kids, she found nothing. She thought back to her vision, tried to see in her mind where the little object might have fallen, where the sound had come from. Thinking it was definitely behind her, as 'she' as Lacey had stood at the mirror, she positioned herself as closely as she could to where she thought 'she' had been in the vision then turned first to the stall directly behind her. A look behind the toilet yielded nothing but a gagging sensation. Moving on to the stall on the right, she checked behind that toilet as well.

  "Aha!" She crowed aloud, and pressing her face against the top of the toilet, she reached behind the commode, grimacing, until her fingers found what she had spotted there. Straightening, she examined her prize. It was a woman's earring. The design was simple but elegant - a backing circle of sterling silver with a large cultured pearl in the center of a ring of tiny diamonds. Or cubic zirconia - she wasn't one to be able to tell the difference, but if it had indeed been Lacey's, then the diamonds were probably real. For some reason it looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd seen it before. Had she seen Lacey wear them? If so, she couldn't recall.

  She pocketed it, even as the more logical part of her brain told her that the earring could have been there for months and might have absolutely nothing to do with her vision. She went to the sink and scrubbed her hands clean then hurried back out to the front. Vittorio wasn't there and she felt a moment of impatience as she wanted nothing more now than to get the heck out of there. Damn Charlie and his lies.

  There was a loud noise and she glanced down the hall she'd just come from. Vittorio came in through the fire exit, tossing a cigarette onto the pavement outside and blowing out a rapid stream of smoke. He smiled when he saw her and quickened his pace. "Sorry, hope you weren't waiting long - I always like a quick smoke before things get hectic here. I’m supposed to get regular breaks, but since I'm the only one here in the front most evenings, I take my moments when I get them. Manager won't let me smoke out front, so I have to go out to the alley."

  Ellie nodded then accepted the brochure he handed her. As casually as she could, she asked, "So were you in the alley the night that poor woman got killed?"

  His gaze flicked up to her, and she could sense his mood suddenly turn anxious. "No. Actually, I took my smoke break out front that night. Manager wasn't here, and from the front I can watch the door, in case anyone comes in. Like I told the cops, I didn't see anything. It was like she just vanished."

  "How awful. It must have been really horrible for all of you." She gave him a commiserating look. "I had the displeasure of dealing with the cops a year or so ago." She sighed, rolled her eyes. "I'm really sorry for you all."

  He chuckled wryly. "Yeah, well. They're just doin' their job, right?" He pointed at the brochure. "Now you got any questions, you call, okay?"

  She smiled and nodded. "I will. And thanks." With another little wave, she got out of there just as quickly as she could.

  As she climbed into the back of a taxi, she felt the earring poking her leg through the pocket of her jeans. Now that she'd found it, she didn't know what to do. A part of her wanted to give it to the cops, but other than validating her vision, what did it really prove? That Lacey had been in the restroom? They already knew that.

  Maybe Charlie would have an idea. She almost reached for her phone, then quashed the notion. It could wait until tonight. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she had promised herself a good lunch. Leaning forward she tapped on the glass. “Know a good Thai restaurant?”

  Chapter 30

  A steaming plate of panang curry with tofu had just been placed in front of her, along with a Thai cucumber salad and a Thai iced coffee when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen, didn't recognize the number, although it had a local 224 area code, and considered just ignoring it. Finally, however, with s snort of frustration, she answered.

  "This is Ellie."

  The voice on the other end was vaguely familiar and the speaker was slurring his words badly. "Hey, Ellie! S'good to hear from you. You know what? That bastard Lawson let me go today. Can you believe it?"

  Ah. It was Lacey's employee, Cary - and Cary was clearly drunk. "Hey Cary. I'm sorry to hear that."

  "Yeah. Asshat. He never liked me. My hair is too long, I don't dress like a corporate suit. And I think he thought I got high on the job. But just cuz a guy uses recreationally once in a while doesn't mean we don't have the common sense not to toke up at work. And I was damn good at my job. Even Lacey said so, and you know she wasn't one to just hand out praise for the hell of it."

  Ellie took a bite of her food, determined not to let a good Thai meal go to waste. She made some sort of non-committal noise while she ate, hoping Cary would take a hint and hang up when no real sympathy was forthcoming.

  "And I just bought this damn place. I'd been renting for years, but Lacey talked me into finally buying a condo. Said I needed to start acting like a grown-up. How the hell am I gonna make my mortgage payment now?"

  Ellie deliberately took another bite. Goddess, she had missed good Thai food. It wasn't that she didn't feel bad for Cary, but she wasn't sure why he h
ad called her to tell her troubles to. They weren't friends - surely he had people he was close to that he could call. She was reminded of her father, and his talk about finding her Tribe. Didn’t Cary have a Tribe? She chewed, swallowed, took a sip of her iced coffee before finally breaking the silence. "I'm sorry, Cary. But I'm sure you'll find something. If you have mortgage insurance, you probably have some time before things get really tough." She tried to frame her next comment as sympathetically as she could. "You know, I bet you'd feel a lot better if you called a friend."

  She heard a sniff on the other end of the phone and then a cough. Was Cary crying? His words were even more slurred when he spoke again. "Yeah. Prob'ly. Oh, but hey, I almost forgot. I wasn't going to say anything, but since Lawson is such a monumental a-hole, I guess I don't owe him anything anymore. You know how he told the cops he didn't leave the table that night at dinner? Muriel made me promise not to tell, in order to protect his political butt, but he was lying. Dickhead. And after I get off with you I’m going to call the cops. I’m going to tell anyone who’ll listen what a lying sack of shit he is."

  The Law of Three, Ellie thought to herself. "So you're saying he did leave the table? When? For how long?"

  "S'about the time Lacey and Muriel left to pee. Said he had to go feed the parking meter. Drives a bloody BMW, man. Treated tha' thing bedder'n he treated s'wife. He'd never have parked that car on a street." His words were becoming harder and harder to understand. "Man, so tired."

  Ellie could imagine. She wondered how much he'd had to drink. "You should probably get some sleep, Cary. Things'll look better in the morning."

  "Fucking mortgage." There was a clunk as if the phone had slipped from his hand. From a distance she heard him mumble something about a 'stupid bastard', and then a soft thud.

  "Cary?" She paused a moment, listening, then thought she caught the faint sounds of snoring. Shaking her head, she ended the call. He must have passed out. Later, she thought, she'd try calling one of the numbers Lawson had given her, see if someone could go by and check on him. In the meantime, she was determined to enjoy her lunch and then get back to finish the job she'd started at Lacey's place. Cary would land on his feet, she assured herself. Lay-offs happened. She'd been through a couple herself.

  She sent a quick prayer up to the Goddess to help the man find a path to his best possible outcome then went back to enjoying her panang.

  Chapter 31

  The vestibule door was propped open with a brick when she got back, and one of those rent-me-for-a-day moving trucks was parked illegally on the curb outside. She let herself in, careful to make sure the brick stayed in place. Lacey would have kicked it to the side. The only one allowed to break the rules was Lacey.

  She took the stairs to the fourth floor again, glad for the exercise. The lunch break had been just what she needed.

  Her plan had been to read Lacey's journal at lunch, but between the call from Cary and the general noisiness of the restaurant, she hadn't gotten to it. Besides, reading it in a public place felt like a violation of Lacey's privacy – something she knew Lacey held more dear than almost anything else. Ah well. There would be time for that tonight.

  At the top of the stairs, she found the fire door was locked. Annoyed, she used her key to let herself onto Lacey's floor. Given the size of the condos on this floor, there couldn't be more than two or three. Maybe after she finished her search of Lacey's place, she'd stop by, maybe see if any of Lacey's neighbors knew her or could shed any light on what might have been going on with her lately. Surely Lacey would have confided in someone.

  As she reached Lacey's front door, her scalp prickled. The door was standing open about an inch. She crossed the remaining few feet and peered through the crack, but didn’t hear or see anything.

  Had she forgotten to lock the door? Or even close it fully? She couldn't recall. She'd gotten out of the habit of checking to see if a door was locked behind her since moving to Horizon. No one ever locked their doors in Horizon, outside of the businesses.

  She stood there, heart hammering in her chest, listening for sounds coming from inside, and several seconds of hearing nothing, she began to feel like an idiot. Still, when she pushed the door open with her foot, she waited a few moments longer before going inside.

  If she’d been in a horror movie, it would have been night, and the lights wouldn't have worked. But it was the middle of the afternoon and the whole placed was flooded with daylight both from the enormous windows, as well as the skylights.

  Still, it was clear the moment she stepped foot inside, she hadn't left the door open herself.

  The place was ransacked. Things that had been neatly lined up on shelves or counter tops were now strewn all over the floor. The filing cabinet by the desk had been torn open, and the neatly labeled files opened one by one, their contents dumped on the floor.

  Despite knowing at the time it was a foolish thing to do, Ellie went into each 'room' in the place, and found chaos everywhere. Every dresser drawer had been emptied, the closets now looked like the 'before' scene from that home remodeling show, and even the bedding had been stripped from the bed.

  Once she was sure she was alone, she closed and bolted the door to the condo and went to sit on the side of the denuded mattress in the relative coziness of the bedroom before pulling out her cell phone. She dialed Kate's home number from speed, realizing she probably couldn't have done it from memory then waited, praying, for someone to pick it up.

  "McCallum residence."

  "Charlie? Oh, God, Charlie, you need to get down here."

  "Ellie? Is that you? Where are you? What's happened?"

  "I'm at Lacey's. Someone's broken in. They ransacked the place. I left to go have some lunch and when I got back, everything was all torn up."

  "Where are you now?"

  "At Lacey's."

  "Get out. Now. Go someplace public and call me back.”

  "But why?"

  "Just do what I tell you. Get out and go someplace with a lot of people. Then call me at this number." He gave her a number, but she had no place to write it down.

  "Wait, wait. I've got to find something to write on."

  She got down on her hands and knees searching for something, found a few pieces of the notebook paper that had the spell written on it. She fumbled in her purse for a pen, then turned one of the larger pieces over, laying it on the nightstand. "Okay, shoot."

  He gave her the number again. "Got it?"

  "Yes. I still don't see why--"

  "Just do what I say. Okay?"

  "Charlie, you're being overly dramatic. There's no one here. I checked."

  "You what?! You stupid idiot! You could have been killed!"

  "I'm fine. Whoever it was is gone."

  "I won't believe that until the cops prove it to me. Now get the hell out of there."

  "Sir, yes, sir," she said, standing and saluting.

  Chapter 32

  There was one of those coffee shop chains a couple of blocks down the street from Lacey’s building. She had no trouble getting out of the apartment or the building and despite the fact that prior to calling Charlie, she'd had the heebie-jeebies, her ego took over in the face of his concern. She did, however, promise to wait for him at the coffeehouse and because he’d made her promise, she had no choice but to keep it.

  She ordered herself a vanilla soy chai then sat down at one of the little round tables and pulled Lacey's journal out of the big pocket of her coat. Had this been what the intruder had been looking for? Clearly they'd been looking for something.

  She unwound the leather strap that laced it closed, removed the rubber band that held the pen in place and opened it up. The sense that Lacey was standing behind her, reading over her shoulder, made the hairs on her neck stand up and a couple of times, as she read, she had to turn and look, to make sure no one was actually standing there.

  Under her breath, she muttered, "Lacey, back off," before stretching her own legs, Charlie-like, under the ta
ble and settling in to read.

  The journal started in May, on Lacey's birthday. For the most part it was just an everyday sort of thing, recounting what had happened that day in the way one did in a diary, the ups, the downs, the difficulties in navigating a solitary life in a big city, even such trivialities as what she was planning on having for dinner, from which restaurant, and if she was planning on using a coupon from one of those coupon books. She wrote down which day she did her laundry, which day she picked up her dry cleaning, mentioned every time she made a transaction at her bank. Ellie was half-expecting to see little notes about calories in and calories burned, but either Lacey kept that elsewhere, or she was so regimented about her eating and exercising that she didn't need to.

  Then on September 15th, the tone abruptly changed. The entry was brief, almost terse, and so lacking in details it made Ellie want to scream. All it said was: "I found something at work today. Something big. I knew they were doing it, but it took me forever to figure out how. Now I've got the leverage I need."