Read Death Loves a Messy Desk Online

Authors: Mary Jane Maffini

Death Loves a Messy Desk (18 page)

I grabbed the envelope with the invoice and dashed down the hallway after Fredelle.
“Hello,” I said when I caught up to her.
She lifted her chin.
“I don’t have an appointment with you, but I needed to drop off this invoice for my consultation and time worked. I wanted to make sure you got it personally.”
I handed her the envelope.
She took it without a word.
I held out my hand to shake hers. “Too bad it didn’t work out with us. I hope things . . . improve.”
She didn’t shake my hand. “I’ll send the check tomorrow. But you’d better leave now. And I don’t want you dropping in here anytime it suits you.”
“Trust me. I have no intention of coming back.”
Dyan must have followed me down the hall, hoping for some drama. I ignored her curious stare as I passed her, my head high, naturally. For some reason the office seemed full this day. I assumed the extra people were sales staff, and one or two might have been clients or even suppliers. No way to know. I thought I saw Robbie scurry by, but that may have been my imagination. I snatched up my hastily abandoned handbag and briefcase as I passed Autumn’s desk.
“Will you finish the survey?” she breathed.
“I’ll mail it in,” I fibbed, picking that up, too. “Oh, by the way, I thought I saw Robbie, but I didn’t notice his car outside. Is he in today?”
“Robbie?”
“Yes,” I said patiently, “Robbie Van Zandt. The owner’s son?”
“Oh right. Yeah, yeah, weird Robbie. Everyone knows him. I didn’t notice him come in.”
“I was almost certain I saw him in the parking lot. What kind of car does he drive?”
She shrugged. “I have, like, no idea, Caroline.”
I gave her a tight little smile. “You know, if you reoriented this reception desk, you could actually see people come by. They’d see you, too. That would probably be a good thing.”
“Awesome, Caroline.”
“Yes, and you could probably get them to fill out that questionnaire, too. There are quite a few people here today.”
“Thank you!” Her lovely face lit up. “That’s a great idea.”
On that note, I headed for sanity.
Next stop Hannaford’s, and not a second too soon. I slowed my pace as I headed through the automatic doors. Ten o’clock seemed like a good starting point. I’d taken a little extra time styling my hair and doing a restrained but effective job on the makeup. I wore a crisp cropped jacket and a Pucci-inspired patterned skirt in yellow and charcoal. My pewter heels finished off the look. I’d chosen a contrasting handbag. No point in looking like the neighborhood lunatic if you were planning to ask a total stranger some very peculiar questions in front of the baby powder section. I grabbed a grocery cart and began to prowl through the store, seeking my prey. The baby products aisle seemed like a good place to start, but it was empty.
I returned to fruit and vegetables to pick up a few boring but necessary nutrients. Maybe someday I’ll get excited about food that doesn’t have chocolate as a first ingredient, but I wasn’t there yet. So lettuce, red peppers, broccoli, and some ripe and fragrant pears. Couldn’t hurt. I glanced around as I selected each one, but no petite blond smiling mommy caught my eye.
I hurtled around the perimeter of the store, glancing down each aisle as I passed by. No sign of her. By this point, I had no choice but to wander down the candy aisle, where a package of Mars bars jumped into my basket.
Back again, this time on the lower end of the aisles.
No luck.
I returned to the produce section to start all over again. This time I picked up and examined every orange in the store. I kept an eye out, but no Missy appeared. I selected two oranges that had looked pretty much like all the others and decided to keep hunting for Missy.
By the fourth trip around the store, I’d collected a box of ice cream sandwiches, some microwave popcorn, and three containers of B & J’s. Jack, if he ever showed up again, could make short work of those. I’d make sure he knew I had them.
Forty-five minutes later, I still hadn’t spotted Missy and I had admitted defeat, but had stocked enough ice cream and candy to take me through Halloween. I was headed toward the cash registers when I caught a flash of blond hair. I made a U-turn, abandoned my cart, and whipped down the baby aisle.
Missy was stopped in front of the disposable diapers. “Thank heavens,” I said. “You look like you know what you’re doing.” I pointed toward two sleeping infants.
Missy smiled. “That might not last long, but so far so good.”
“They’re such beautiful babies,” I said, although to tell the truth I can’t tell one baby from another one, something I never ever mention to my friends. “What are their names?”
“Riley and Ryan.”
“Beautiful names. They seem like such good babies, too. Look, I don’t want to hold you up, but could you help me out, please?”
“Sure, if I can.”
“Thanks,” I said, radiating gratitude. “I promised to get some baby powder for my friend. She’s stuck in the house with a couple of sick children, and I said I’d swing by and pick it up. Her baby is six months old. Shenandoah. Another beautiful child. But I don’t remember what brand my friend told me to get. What do you use?”
“I’ve always been happy with this.” She picked a familiar container from the shelf and handed it to me.
“That’s it. That’s the one she prefers. I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to add to her troubles, or make a return trip.” I was about to drop the baby powder into the cart with my purchases when I realized I’d left the cart behind in my dash to catch Missy. Sally would be bemused to learn she’d been part of my info-gathering conspiracy, and she’d think the cart thing was hilarious.
“I don’t blame you. Once a week in the grocery store is enough,” she said, confirming my opinion of the type of organized person she was. “Your friend’s a lucky girl, though.”
I did a little fake double take. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you seem quite familiar.”
She looked at me, seeking signs of familiarity, I suppose. I tried not to feel guilty over the subterfuge. I reminded myself that Barb Douglas was missing under strange circumstances, that the police had no intention of getting involved, and that someone at Quovadicon could well be at the heart of her disappearance.
I said, “Oh, I know what it is. I have a contract at a business on the edge of town. Quovadicon? I saw you in a photo yesterday. Unless it was someone who looked a lot like you.”
She laughed and pointed to the twins. “It would have been me. I was as big as a house with these two bruisers.”
“I didn’t like to say that. It was your smile that I recognized.”
“Wow. Say hi to everyone for me. I have to get in again to show them how the twins are growing, but the days are so busy. You can’t imagine.”
“I’ll pass on your greetings.”
“Thanks!”
“Fredelle says they miss you a lot.”
“She would say that. She’s such an office mom. I miss her, too. It must be hard on her. A lot of new people.”
“Right. Dyan, who replaced you . . .”
“Hmmm. Actually, we overlapped.”
I figured Missy was too kind and probably too smart to trash-talk Dyan to a stranger.
I said, “And I guess the receptionist hadn’t been there long, either. Did you have to train her, too?”
“Autumn. She’s young. I guess she’s still managed to avoid going back to school.”
I didn’t want to change the subject. “So Robbie’s been there for a long time.”
She smiled. “Oh, Robbie, so shy. Tell him I said hi.”
Here was my chance to find out about Robbie’s car. “Sure. In fact, I have to talk to him later today. I’m embarrassed to say that I think I drove right by him this morning and didn’t acknowledge him.” I paused to consider the most unlikely vehicle for Robbie to drive. “He was in an SUV, a big red one. A Jeep, I think.”
She frowned. “I can’t imagine Robbie driving an SUV. Or anything red. He’s too self-effacing.”
“Really, I was sure it was him. So what does he drive?”
“An old silver Camry. He’s had it nearly ten years. He’s not a person to spend money on luxuries. He’s probably got plenty tucked away for emergencies. He’s always expecting one.”
“And what about what’s-her-name, right, um, Barb, who works next to him? I have to talk to her tomorrow. Or did she join Quovadicon after you left?”
One of the twins opened a tiny rosebud mouth and emitted a squawk.
Missy leaned forward and rubbed the little tummy. “Shh, shhh, shhh. No, she was there before I left.”
The other twin’s eyes opened, followed by his identical rosebud mouth. I knew that Missy wouldn’t stand around chatting with a stranger if both babies started crying. I spoke quickly, because I wanted to hear if Missy had anything to say about Barb Douglas. “Really, I didn’t know that. Did you have to train her, too?”
“Shhh, shhh, Ryan. No, no, she was technical. I wouldn’t have known where to start. She knew her stuff, though.”
“Did she? I haven’t talked to her yet, but I’d heard she was really smart. Must have been why Fredelle recruited her.”
“Oh, Fredelle didn’t recruit her.”
“She didn’t? I thought she did all the hiring.”
“There’s not that much hiring, outside the warehouse, and Fredelle doesn’t do that. We’ve always been a stable group until this year, when everything changed for a number of reasons.” She cooed at the fidgeting babies. A serious bleat came from the baby on the left, echoed by a matching one from his twin on the right. Missy said absently, “I’d better get moving. I want to finish before they hit high C.”
Not just yet
, I thought. “Didn’t people like Barb?”
Missy had already started to move down the aisle. “Most people did, but that’s the thing. It didn’t matter two cents whether people liked her or not, because Mr. Van Zandt handpicked her.”
11
When you make an appointment,
note the contact number of the person in your agenda.
If you have to cancel in an emergency,
you’ll have the number handy.
I grabbed my missing cart, checked my watch, and high-tailed it to the cash register. I had a consultation soon, but I had another important item to check out first. Luckily for me, it was on the way. I popped the groceries in the car and raced off to Lilac Lane.
Fortune was with me, and Jim Poplawski was just about to wedge himself into an ancient station wagon. He was carrying a small animal crate. Worry clouded his broad, cheerful face.
“He turned up,” he said. “Not sure whether that’s bad or good.”
“Who?”
“Diablo. Barb’s cat, remember?”
I’d been worried it might have been Robbie.
Jim said, “Someone turned him in to the shelter. Said they found him a few blocks away from here. Now I’m worried.”
I felt that sinking sensation. “Because she hasn’t been calling looking for him?”

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