I rented a car and wore sunglasses and a ball cap to disguise my appearance. I went by the name of Mr. Marshall, with Tom as my first name. The employees were told I was a cousin of the original founder and they accepted that without question. They were only too happy that I had become involved because it meant that their jobs were safe. I closed up my condo and moved to Brookfield, purchasing a large rustic cabin deep in the woods not far from the company. I had privacy fencing with security installed on the perimeter and for all purposes, became a hermit except for the time I spent at the factory. I was always in disguise, with only Peter knowing who I really was. I’d hired someone to take my place in the city until such time as Buddy was back up to full speed and would take over for me. I’d already decided to stay in Brookfield permanently.
I had a small staff at the cabin, people I brought with me who weren’t interested in local gossip. There was a housekeeper, a groundskeeper, a security man, and Peter lived in a guest cottage at the edge of the property. It seemed he had, in the course of investigating for me, met a young local girl and become quite enamored. He never let it interfere with his job and I allowed him to bring her onto the estate to stay with him at the cottage from time to time. It was a situation that seemed to meet everyone’s needs. Everyone, but me.
I revamped the entire plant, installing state-of-the-art equipment, instated the latest in production techniques, and gave salary increases with benefits including an on-site health club, restaurant, daycare, and a few shops. In many ways, working for me was better than living in town. I kept quality high and the prices dirt low. There was a waiting list for jobs as they opened up.
As much as I wanted to, I didn’t try to see Gwen. There was too great a chance she would see through my disguise and that would ruin everything. Once the plant was running smoothly, I put a supervisor in charge and retreated to the cabin. I sent Peter out to make sure that Gwen needed a job and was hired at Marshall Manufacturing. She was given an administrative job, one that gave her some managerial control. I thought that might help her to restore a bit of the insecurity she built since that first relationship. Word got back to me that she was doing well, in fact, she was very good at her job. She was well-paid, far above that of the others and for that reason, anyone who divulged their salary was instantly fired. I watched her now that I was on high. I watched her, and I waited for my chance.
Chapter 18
Gwen
Carrie and I were living with my parents in the sleepy town of Brookfield once again. It says somewhere that all roads lead back home again and I guess in my case, that was true. Carrie loved it. She thrived with the added attention that my parents lavished on her. Their house was large enough that we had separate rooms and Carrie began to walk if what somewhat unsteadily. Her room was filled with toys, the bounty she gained from my parents, my friends, and myself. Babies were like that. It made people feel better to see a baby play; maybe it was reliving their own childhood. There was no lack of babysitters, including my old friend, Patsy. She'd appeared on the horizon from the beginning, listening to my tales of woe and encouraging me that now that I was home again, things would work out okay.
I found a job at the local grocery store as a cashier. I was certainly overqualified but very grateful to have the job, so I made the best of it. My feet were a little sore at first, the long hours standing there, scanning people's purchases. But as it turned out, it was a good way to get reacquainted with the people I'd known and missed. They told me their aches and pains, their griefs, and broken hearts. I could relate. My own heart was broken. I still couldn't figure out what had turned Colt into the man who had destroyed my apartment in such a malicious, pointed way.
There were still phone calls to my parents’ house which when I answered, there were a few moments of breathing and then the line disconnected. There was no number to trace and no way to block it from a landline. I was stuck with it and suggested to my parents that they invest in cell phones and get rid of the landline entirely. Mom was rather excited by the idea, but dad, being a banker, saw no savings in changing. He’d done things the same way for a hundred years and he would continue for the next hundred. I couldn't blame him. There was a certain amount of security in doing things the same way.
My car had held up pretty well for its age. There were days when it wasn't quite as cooperative, and I had to walk to work. It didn't bother me. Even though it was cold, the air was refreshing, and it was good exercise. Dad always offered to drive me, but I refused. I didn't want to become dependent on anyone, not even my own father.
Mom and Dad had plans to go to their timeshare in Florida for the coldest part of the winter. They would be leaving right after Christmas. They had done this the past five years, but this year I would miss them especially. Carrie and I would have the house to ourselves, but somehow that felt a little spooky.
The mysterious phone calls continued. I knew they must be Colt. Only he had the persistence to carry it off. I missed him, I won't lie. Even though he had been intrusive to the point of irrational, I had gotten a little used to it and that evening we had spent together was the best of my life. I don't know what turned him that next morning and made him behave as he did. Perhaps I would never find out. It was one of those things I was dying to know, but afraid to find out.
Mom and Dad had left for Florida and Carrie and I moved to their downstairs bedroom. It helped to make things feel a little cozier in the big empty house. My job at the grocery store was becoming unbelievably boring, and it was only the thought of going home that kept the light at the end of the tunnel. I kept in touch with my friends and from time to time would ask one or two of the girls to come over and spend the night. We talked about old days and the boys we had known. One of the girls told me about job openings at the newly acquired Marshall Manufacturing. While I really wasn't interested in assembly line work, there was an outside chance that there might be an opening in their executive offices. I played around with the idea of applying but didn't act on it. One day, a young man came through the grocery line. He looked out of place, wearing an expensive topcoat and leather gloves. No one in Brookfield dressed like that, especially to go only to the grocery store. He was nice, good-looking, and very conversational.
I hadn't noticed him speaking to anyone else as he waited in line, but when he reached me, he couldn't seem to stop talking. I thought that was rather odd, except for the fact that he was dressed like an out-of-towner and couldn't understand how things operated. I could see he was rather uncomfortable, so I engaged in discussion, hoping to make him relax a little.
"So, you don't look like you're from around here," I began.
"No, you're right, I'm not."
"Maybe from Chicago?"
"Could be, something like that. You look familiar to me," he said.
"Really? Well, you're not from around here, I grew up here. Of course, there was a short stint when I lived in Chicago."
“What do you know. Maybe that’s where I saw you. You just looked so familiar to me."
“So, what brings you to Brookfield?" I was dragging out the discussion as long as I could. Oddly enough, he was buying 50 or so bottles of water, not in one handy pack, but in separate, individual bottles. I should've just counted them and multiplied that by one ring through, but we were having a conversation and it seemed sort of natural.
"Oh, just business."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I'm with the new manufacturing company. Well, it's not exactly new, but I got hired on as an assistant to the new manager."
“Wow, that's great for you. "
"Actually, you look and sound kind of overqualified to work here at the grocery store. Have you thought about putting an application with Marshall?"
"No, not really. I'm really not much of a line person." We both laughed as we realized he was in my line.
"Well, hey, you know, there are jobs in the offices. Maybe one of those would suit you better?"
He was looking at me directly and while h
e was being attentive, there was something odd about it. I knew I had become overly suspicious, especially since Mom and Dad left Florida, leaving Carrie and I to ourselves. "You know, I might just give them a call and see what's available."
“Oh, hey, that would be great. Tell you what," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling on his business card, handing it in my direction. "Tell them I sent you and tell them I said to treat you right."
I laughed, accepting the card and sliding it into my jeans pocket. "I might just do that, don't be surprised if you see me around."
I thought about that man all afternoon as I worked. In fact, the more I thought about having a job that was less on my feet and took a little more brainpower, the harder my job as a cashier became. By the time I clocked out, I've made up my mind to try Marshall Manufacturing. After all, what did I have to lose?
* * *
The man across the desk from me held out his hand to shake. "Thank you very much for coming in, Gwen. Here is a packet of papers for you to complete, and we look forward to seeing you here on Monday. You did say that childcare would not be a problem, correct?"
"I did say that. And it won't be. Although, I think you weren't supposed to ask me that."
The man looked surprised, even embarrassed. I wondered if he was doing his job or had boned up on all the discrimination laws when it came to hiring people. I let it go, though, because it meant that I had a brand-new job Monday morning. As a matter of fact, I was going to be the assistant to Peter, the young man who had come through my checkout lane. I thought that not only ironic, rather fun. I thought we would get along well. Of course, I would have to teach him how to dress, but I figured he was a quick learner. Yes, he was going to be an interesting experience.
I picked up Carrie from the daycare on my way home. As usual, she burst into a big grin as she saw me, and as usual, I hugged and kissed her until I thought I couldn't stop. We had become very close, she and I, even though she only had a vocabulary of about twenty words which included “cookie, cereal, mama, grandma, grandpa."
It hurt me that there was no “dad," included, but the rest of us made up for what she may have missed not having him.
Carrie and I arrived back at my parents’ house. There was an envelope; the large, business kind, stuffed into the mailbox. It was so large they'd been unable to shut the mailbox door. I put Carrie on my hip and grappled with the envelope to get it out. There was no return address and the addressee was me and it was handwritten. I thought that was unusual and wondered who might be sending me a package. It wasn't as if I didn't live right there in town.
We got inside, and I put Carrie in her playpen as I sat down with the bulky envelope. I questioned whether I should open something when I knew nothing about who sent it. The small town in me, trusting everyone said otherwise, so I went ahead. Inside I found hundreds of newspaper pages which had all been run through a shredder. This I found puzzling and dumped them all out in a pile on the floor. I sorted through a few, trying to find some puzzle matches so that I might understand if the stuffing was the purpose of the envelope, or whether there was something that had been merely cushioned by it in there.
I could finally tell they were pages from the local newspaper here in Brookfield. I found the date on one; it was two years previous. Beyond that, it was impossible to gather anything that was recognizable. The newspaper was brittle, which told me that it was all old, something I found more than a little creepy. I bundled it all together, stuffed it back into the envelope and threw it into the trash can in the driveway. I didn't even want it in the house.
Once I got back into the house, Carrie was crying and the whole experience was very unnerving. I had no idea why someone would send me an envelope full of shredded newspaper clippings. Apparently, they had some sort of significance to whoever set them, but I had no clue. Was this another act, was it his way of telling me that he was watching me? Could he be this sick?
I found that thought frightening and wished my parents weren’t in Florida. There was no one to look out for me and no one to look after Carrie if something happened to me. I just didn't know what I was dealing with. It was all so uncertain. After dinner that night, I put Carrie to bed early. I sat for a long time in the front room looking out the window and going through the suspects in my mind once again. The more I thought, the more panicked I became and the bigger the house felt. I scrambled for my phone and tapped Patsy’s number.
"Patsy, I'm going to ask you something rather silly, but please, help me out if you can. Could you come? Could you come and stay with Carrie and me for a while?"
"Well, I guess I could. Why? What's wrong?"
"I don't want to go into the whole story right now. But something came in the mail today and it really freaked me out. It worries me."
"No problem. I love that big old house. And it would be a treat to come stay with you. It would be just like old times."
"Good. Then I'll expect to see you soon."
"I'll be there."
Chapter 19
Coulter
“Did you give her the job?” I asked Peter. We were sitting in Adirondack chairs on the expansive front porch of my cabin.
“Just as you asked,” Peter responded, taking a sip of his beer. Although it was still early Spring, the day was unusually warm and we both needed the fresh scent of air to clear our heads.
“And did she seem like she was happy?” I wanted to know every nuance, every detail.
“Yes, she did. Actually, she’s really sweet, if you don’t mind my saying so. At the grocery store, she took time to talk with me and process all those bottles of water.”
“I figured those would set her off.”
“No, not at all. Like I said, she was really nice. When she applied and found out she’d be my assistant, it seemed to surprise her pleasantly.”
“Pay attention to what I tell you to do. The last thing I want her to do is to quit and run off again. I’m in this thing deep this time.”
“I understand, boss.”
“Tom Marshall.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Marshall.”
“God, don’t slip up on that. It will kill everything.”
Peter nodded.
“Did you take care of that other detail?”
“Yes, I did. All taken care of.”
“Good.”
“Mr. Marshall?”
“Yeah?”
“May I ask you a personal question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Just exactly what are your intentions with her?”
“If it’s any of your business, I’m going to make her my wife.”
Chapter 20
Gwen
Working with Peter was probably the best job I’ve ever had. It was almost as if he was working for me. I had an office the same size as his and we left the door between us open. In the mornings, we lingered over repeated cups of coffee and gossiped about everyone and everything we could think of. He laughed at my jokes and made me feel clever and beautiful again. He was very good for my self-esteem.
I teased him about his girlfriend, Kathy, a lovely petite girl who worked for Marshall and seem to adore him. I saw his face light up every time she stopped by on some made-up pretense, just to see him. In some ways, though, it made me a little sad to think that I would never have that kind of new love again. I’d been burned twice and was in no hurry to repeat those mistakes again. I had my daughter, a good job, both my parents and lots of friends. What else did I need?
Secretly, though, I knew. The only problem was what I didn’t know who he really was as a man. Was he the kind, caring, loving person who had held me in his arms that night, or did his need to control overstep everything in his path? I wish I knew because I missed him.
It was a beautiful day and I opened my windows to the outdoors. Peter stuck his head through the doorway and motioned to me. “Come with me, I have something to show you.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“You’ll find out s
hortly.” I followed him as we left the building, women’s eyes all around us trained on his back. I had to admit, I understood their lust. He was young, very good-looking, affable, brilliant, and liable to be a major player someday. If I hadn’t already had that aching love in my heart, I might’ve been interested, too.
He went to the exit door and held it open for me. I wasn’t sure what he was going to show me but was glad the weather was warm because I’d left my jacket inside. We walked out into the parking lot. I was puzzled. “Are we going somewhere?”
“No, not me, anyway.”
My heart sank. I realized then what was going on.
I was being fired.
He hadn’t told me inside because company policy held that people being fired were walked out of the building before they were told. It prevented scenes. Any moment now, someone would come out with my purse, my jacket, and my picture of Carrie from my desk. I would be told that I was no longer needed, but I would receive two weeks’ pay as severance and I could continue on the company health plan as long as I paid my own premium. I’d seen it happen so many times before, particularly with the former owner of that very company. I felt the tears began to well up in my eyes and that sick feeling crept into my stomach.
What was I going to do? I couldn’t live off my parents. I had quit the job at the grocery store and been so happy to do it; more than likely I’d burned any bridges there were. It was a small town and there weren’t many jobs to be had. I didn’t even have a degree.
I was so busy counting my woes that I overlooked Peter, his hand pointing over my shoulder. “Turn around.”
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