A Dime a Dozen (18 page)

At first, Dean and Natalie were devastated by what I showed them on the tape, but then I explained how, in a way, this was actually good news.

“Think about it,” I said. “Now that we know there was a way for someone to figure out the passwords, we don’t have to limit our suspects just to employees. It could’ve been anyone who was able to get their hands on Ellen’s phone—which greatly widens the circle.”

“Why is that good news?” Dean asked. “That leads to even more suspects.”

“True,” I replied. “But now we know it could’ve been Ellen’s husband or a friend or maybe even the cleaning crew. It doesn’t necessarily have to have been someone on staff here. See, before, my hands were tied. If I knew for a fact that somebody on your staff intentionally wiped out your database, then there was no way I could approve you for a grant until your procedures were reworked and tested. But now that we know it wasn’t necessarily someone on staff, it looks more like this was someone after Luisa, not your agency. Of course, it’s troubling that they were able to get to the passwords, but that can be dealt with.”

“So what should we do about Ellen?” Natalie asked.

“See if you can get her to confess on her own. No one likes to think their employers spied on them, but your goal here is to close the security breach. Get her to come in here and ask her, straight out, if she puts her passwords into her phone. Don’t even mention that you caught her on video, though certainly you can imply that you have some kind of proof. If she’s as honest as you say she is, she’ll own up to it.”

“Then what?”

Through the window behind Dean’s shoulder, I saw a bright red convertible pull into the parking lot.

“Then you need to write her up. The woman should have known better.”

My voice trailed off as the door to the convertible opened and a woman climbed out, bright red curls piled on the top of her head. I grinned.

Harriet.

“Excuse me a minute, guys,” I said, standing. “I believe my friend has finally arrived.”

I stepped outside before Harriet reached the front door. We hugged, and I told her how very, very glad I was that she had made it.

“What a cute little town!” she exclaimed. “I think I must’ve died and gone to Mayberry.”

“How was your trip?”

“Fine, just fine.” She turned toward the car. “See, I told you I rented a Mustang. Isn’t it a hoot? I’ve had the top off most of the way.”

“What was wrong with your car?”

“Honey, if I’ve got to drive all the way to North Carolina, you can bet I’m not doing it in my little clunker. This was business!”

“Well, I’ve got plenty of work waiting for you, so at least you can justify the rental on your expense report.”

I held the door open for her as she stepped into the building. The Webbers came into the foyer to meet her, and then we all gave her the tour. Finally, Harriet and I ended in the conference room, where the Webbers left us alone with the admonishment to Harriet to make herself at home and please don’t hesitate to ask if there was anything she needed.

Natalie pulled the door shut behind her as Harriet plopped into a seat at the table.

“What lovely people!” she exclaimed. “When you said we’d be working with your in-laws, I was picturing the absolute worst. But they’re so nice.”

“I’ve been very fortunate,” I said. “On the other hand, as nice as they may be, this is a tough job, very big. I hope you didn’t wear yourself out on the drive, because I’m really counting on you.”

“And when,” she asked, fluffing her hair with well-manicured fingers, “have I ever let you down?”

“Never,” I replied, grinning. “Now let’s get to work.”

I reached for the papers to begin orienting her to the case, but before I could even speak, she held up one hand.

“Gossip first, then work,” she said. “I have big—and I do mean
big
—news.”

“Come on, Harriet, you know it’s wrong to gossip.”

“Okay, well if you don’t want to hear about what Mr. T-O-M has been doing over there in Singapore…”

“Tom?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat. “What about him?”

“Well,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward. “First of all, I finally learned his last name.”

I swallowed, feeling guilty, since of course I had known his last name myself for quite a while.

“It’s Tom Bennett,” she announced proudly.

If she only knew, I thought, the number of times I had written out
Callie Bennett
or
Callie Webber Bennett
or, best yet,
Mrs. Tom Bennett!

“I also know what he looks like,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yes. I have it on good authority that he is very tall and very, very handsome. Just as we suspected.”

I nodded, my mind racing. I simply had to tell her about Tom and me and our relationship and our one night together. It was now or never.

“Harriet—”

“Wait,” she said. “There’s more. He’s romantically involved with someone.”

“He is?” I managed to squeak out.

“Yes. See, my cousin’s former college roommate works for the Raffles Hotel in Singapore, and she’s in on all of the who’s who of society. Now, I know Tom tries to keep his work completely separate from the J.O.S.H.U.A. Foundation, but apparently over there the secret kind of got out. At least some people know that Tom is more than just a rich guy with a pretty face. The rumor has it that he’s a philanthropist who likes to donate anonymously through a foundation.”

“That’s our Tom.”

“Well, anyway, my friend was at a party the other night, and she saw our mysterious philanthropist with none other than a former beauty contestant.”

“What?”

“Some six-foot blonde who used to be Miss Denmark or Miss Sweden or something. Her brother is like some biggy wig in some company in Singapore. Anyway, this beauty queen was all over Tom like a wet washcloth.”

I felt the air seeping from my lungs.

“She was?”

“But here’s the best part. She made a play for him, and he turned her down flat! He said, and I quote, ‘You’re a lovely lady, but I’m sorry, I’m involved with someone back home in the States.’”

My knees grew weak, and I gripped the table as I sat. Not only was he being faithful to me, he was up against formidable temptation!

“How did your friend know what Tom said?”

“Because the poor beauty queen ended up sobbing her eyes out in the bathroom. My friend gave her a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on, and then she helped the woman put herself back together again.”

I tried to feel sorry for the woman, but, truly, I didn’t. Tom had turned down Miss Sweden for me!

Heart soaring, I knew it was time to tell Harriet about me and Tom. I just hoped she wouldn’t be too furious with me for not sharing it sooner. Gathering my nerve, I moved my chair closer and looked her square in the eye.

“I have to tell you something,” I said. “When Tom said he was involved with someone back in the States…”

“Yeah?”

“He was talking about me.”

Studying her face for a reaction, I was surprised to see not anger or happiness there—but pity!

“Oh, hon,” she said, patting my arm, “I know you two are phone buddies and all, but don’t kid yourself. Tom’s a very sophisticated man. I feel certain it’s got to be some movie star. Maybe a politician or a CEO of some big corporation.”

I sat back, bemused. “

Are you saying I’m not good enough for him?” I asked.

She shook her head vigorously.

“No, of course not!” she replied. “I’m just saying he travels in different circles than you do, sweetie. I know he’s fond of you, but I hate to see you think his feelings go any deeper than that.”

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be insulted. After fully 30 seconds of silence, I finally decided to leave it alone for now. Perhaps I would tell her more later, when she was finished trying to let me down easy.

For now, I just wanted to get off alone somewhere and burst out laughing. Tom turned down Miss Sweden for
me!

With renewed energy, I got Harriet involved in the work she needed to do, showing her all of the records and giving her a clear list of the criteria I needed for her to cover. Because I didn’t want to scare her off, I didn’t tell her about the problems that had popped up, especially the dead body. I knew she’d hear about all of that sooner or later, but I thought it might be good to let her get a running start first. As Eli and I had discussed on the phone when we were talking through this case, I still needed to go on with the investigation of MORE as if nothing had changed.

Mainly, I told her I needed a good, clear picture of how MORE’s finances were run, a review of previous audits, and a solid summary of salary and benefits for every single employee in the place, including the Webbers. She seemed ready to get to work, and if I was talking a little too fast or acting a bit too happy, she didn’t seem to notice.

I had some appointments I needed to keep all over town. I told Harriet I might be tied up most of the day, but I would check in with her later via phone. As I drove away, I turned the radio as high as it would go and sang happily along with it. I may not have been a movie star or a politician or a CEO. But I certainly traveled in the right circle for Tom.

Our own little circle of two.

Sixteen

My first appointment was scheduled for 11:00 a.m., and I arrived a little bit early. I considered calling Tom to kill time, but it was midnight in Singapore, and I thought he might not appreciate being awakened in the middle of the night just to chat!

Instead, I pulled out my map of the county and made sure I had marked the locations of the charities I was scheduled to visit. I had planned out a sort of circular route that would let me get to all of them without much doubling back, and I was starting at the farthest point, which was a migrant day care center. The place wasn’t open this time of year, but I was able to tour the facility and meet with the woman who ran it.

From there, I stopped at a dental clinic that accepted migrant vouchers for service, and I particularly liked the main dentist. He told me that on the weekends he was a stand-up comedian in Charlotte, and from the jokes he was throwing around in the office, I could believe it. I just hoped he wasn’t that funny when people were in his chair, their mouths full of dental implements.

Next, I visited a Head Start branch, which looked like an elaborate kindergarten. To my surprise, it was fairly full even at this time of year, and the woman explained that their population ebbed and flowed, but that it was by far the most crowded during harvest season.

The next charity on my list was Su Casa, the group Butch Hooper was affiliated with. I was particularly interested in this charity, because they provided migrant housing. As I drove there, I felt a twinge of sadness that Bryan wasn’t with me. I could well remember the long nights he spent on his senior thesis in architecture, studying the problem of migrant housing and working to design some good solutions.

Fortunately, Su Casa was located up near the top of the mountain, so I was able to stop at my cabin first and grab something to eat. It was nearly 2:00 p.m., and I was starving! Since my appointment wasn’t until 2:30, I took the time to make myself a big salad that I ate out on the deck in the sun. It was supposed to rain later in the week, but for now the weather couldn’t be more beautiful.

I reached Su Casa quickly and easily, since it was just over the top of the mountain and a little bit down the other side. Turning into the parking lot, I pulled in beside an old Impala that had a bobble-headed Chihuahua in the back window. As I got out and walked toward the building, I reminded myself of the goal of each of these visits, which was to meet the principals, to find out their impressions of MORE, and to see if they were fulfilling their own mission statements, showing fruits for their labors.

Speaking of mission statements, I saw that Su Casa had theirs framed and hung on the wall beside the front door, hand lettered in a delicate script, the borders decorated with watercolor apples.
This agency will provide safe, clean, comfortable housing for migrant fruit pickers to be used on a seasonal, temporary basis
. Declaring their mission so boldly right up front certainly made a good first impression.

“You must be Callie Webber!” a voice drawled loudly from across the room.

Startled, I turned to see a woman rushing toward me, arms outstretched.

“I’m so happy to meet you. My name is Trinksie, and we’re just tickled pink that you’re here!”

She threw her arms around me in a generous hug. Before I could hug her in return, she let me go, the release so unexpected and swift that I nearly fell backward.

“I’ve just heard such nice things about you!” she exclaimed, already halfway back across the room, her wide hips jiggling as she went. “You’ll just have to meet everybody and tell us all about yourself! How do you like the area? You’re related to the Webbers, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m—”

“Butch! Get out here! We got company!”

A young man peeked through a doorway, his face and neck so long and thin he seemed almost reptilian. The shaved head only added to the illusion.