Splitsville.com (15 page)

Nineteen

The rain is coming down at a steady pace, which puts me in a crabby mood, and having to stay up to clean is the last thing I want to do. I had no clue they were going to hire me on the spot. Something I wasn’t prepared for. I’m tired, my shoes are soaking wet, I want to go home, crawl into my bed and pull the quilt Aunt Matilda made me, over my head, with Herbie lying next to me, and sleep the night away.

But if I want to save my entire life, I have to learn how to work a mop bucket. How the hell am I going to pull this off? I’ll have to work and work fast. Get in and look around.

I find the closest spot to the door because I definitely have no desire to clean an entire building with sopping wet shoes. Or snoop around in wet shoes.

“Welcome to the night shift.” The elderly gentleman checks my badge and makes some type of mark on a piece of paper. “Here’s your uniform and your cart closet is over there.”

I take the blue jumpsuit from him and hold it up to me. It’s something straight out of the eighties only a little less attractive. “You’ve got to be kidding me?” I fold it back up. “Are you?”

I eye the security guard. He eyes me back.

“Nope, not kidding.” His small frame is exactly how I’d picture a grandfather to be. His white hair is neatly tucked under his security cap and his matching mustache is equally maintained. “Everyone in housekeeping wears one. Just be glad no one has to see you in it.”

“Precisely!” I slap the get up on his counter. “No one will see me so I don’t have to wear it.” It’s bad enough I have to keep myself awake for this.

“No.” He slides it back towards me. “You have to. Or my job will be on the line. And you aren’t looking like you’ll be here long. So it’s not worth it.”

“What does that mean?” I curl my nose.

“You don’t look like much of a cleaning person. Or at least one that usually works those kinds of jobs.”

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or insult,” I shoot back at him.

“Let’s just say you don’t look like you get your hands too dirty.” His suspicions are right. I don’t plan on being here very long. A few nights at best, enough time to find some clues to who the people are in the photos and their relationship to Dabi and Kent. “Enough chit-chat, young lady. It’s time you get to work or you’ll never get these executive offices cleaned tonight.”

Reluctantly I take the jumpsuit to the closet and put it on over my clothes. It’s bad enough I have to clean; wearing this is plain humiliating. Even if it is just me and the security guard.

I open the door and back the cart out of the closet, only it doesn’t budge with a little pull. I grab the handle and slide while pulling at the same time. I turn when I hear laughter.

“What?” I glare at the security guard who’s bent over laughing.

“Yep, I knew you weren’t cut out for this work,” he yells just as I fall to the ground. He points and doubles over again snorting. “There’s a brake on the side.”

I brush myself off, hoping it will help with the humiliation too, but it doesn’t. I fiddle with the brake and it pops free, causing the cart to slide forward, and I have to throw my body in front to stop it. It’s the battle of me versus the cart and I’m going to win or at least I try. “Ouch!” I jump around on one leg while holding my foot in my hands. The cart rolled right over my foot and continues to roll until it stops smack dab into the wall.

I don’t look at the security guard, who is giving his full attention to details about me, as I gather the cart. Once I have it back on track, I push the squeaky thing down the hall.

Every other light down the hallway is just enough for me make a mental note of all the rooms and the name plates. And if I count correctly, which I did pass third grade math with flying colors, there are eight executive offices and a conference room.

I quickly maneuver my way around two offices doing the basics—vacuuming, light feather dusting and empting the garbage cans.

“You okay in here?” A flashlight blinds me.

I hold my hand up to block the light. “Do you think you could kill the light?” I blink trying to ignore the black dot in the center of my vision.

I hear Harold click the flashlight off. “Sorry, job hazard.” He flicks the overhead lights on.

“I’m good. You didn’t have to turn all the lights on. The corner lamps are fine.” Every office is laid out the same. There is a big cherry desk in front of the windows and a wall full of cherry shelving on the opposite wall. Which stinks because all this dusting leaves me little time to snoop, and with Harold following my every move doesn’t help.

Harold sits in one of the cigar chairs.

“What are you doing?” I dust around the lamp on the table next to him. “Don’t you have to walk around and point your light a corner somewhere?”

I don’t bother waiting for him to get up before I exit the room.

Nothing seems suspicious until I hit Dabi’s office. I back the cart up to the door and look down the hall. The coast is clear. I back into her office pulling the squeaky cart. I grit my teeth hoping it will miraculously stop the god-awful sound coming from the wheels. I bend down and spit on the wheel for some lube but of course it doesn’t work.

Dabi’s office is a little bigger. It’s a lot more feminine with window treatments and corresponding decorations. The closet door is open and I look in. She has several jackets hanging up, an armoire full of accessories, and shoes to match. A tinge of jealousy makes my stomach churns, the closet is bigger than my bedroom.

Everything seems to be in place. Her desk looks as though it hasn’t been touched. I use my keychain flashlight, which only gives me pin size amount of light, and read her day calendar. There are business meetings penciled in, dinner dates, a couple different parties, but nothing out of the ordinary for a businessperson.

Footsteps and voices coming down the hall cause me to stop. The door knob squeaks as I turn it and quietly shut the door. I put my ear up to the door. The footsteps seem to be getting closer. Quickly I grab my cart and head towards the door next to the closet.

“Please be a way out.” I close my eyes and open it. “Crap,” I whisper, “a bathroom.” I notice my cart and I will barely fit in there.

I squat down praying that whoever is coming into Dabi’s office doesn’t have to pee.

“I guess if anything good can come out of my dear sweet Dabi’s death, it’s Kent can’t get any of her money.” I hear the voice loud and clear coming from under the crack in the bottom of the door.

I barely crack the door to see who’s talking. It’s the bald guy from the press conference—Dabi’s dad. I can’t see the person he’s talking to because the opening isn’t wide enough and if I move a single millimeter, I’ll fall out of the bathroom and blow my cover. I keep my knees bent clear up to my ears and stay as quiet as possible.

“It is a shame.” I barely make out the whispers of the other person. I can tell it’s a man’s voice. I close my eyes and strain harder to hear him, but he’s a dark shadow. “I can’t believe he killed her and then himself.”

What? Killed himself? How does this guy know Kent killed himself? That is not what Carl is telling everyone.

“They don’t know that for sure. But it all makes perfect sense.” I have perfect view of Dabi’s dad putting a file in the drawer. “No one will come in here, so it will be safe.”

They continue to talk about some business that I don’t understand—expanding the company and working late nights. My eyes feel heavy. I push the indiglo on my watch and notice its one A.M., way past my bed time. I think I hear the door close.

***

“You can come out now.” My knees fling out from my chest as the bathroom door opens and the security guard startles the crap out of me. “They’re gone.” He leans the right side of his body on the door handle.

“I…” I have no idea how I’m going to get out of this one. I blink several times to figure out where I am. I can’t believe I feel asleep. “I’m not used to this night shift thing.”

“I don’t know who you are but you better get to the job they’re paying you for.” He points to a small camera hanging from the ceiling. The camera I didn’t see on my way in. He nods toward the cart. “You need to oil that thing when you’re done snooping.”

“That’s what I want to ask you about.” I grab the cart and pull it out. I whip it around and push it after the security guard.

“I don’t know anything about carts. I’m the security guy and I should be calling you in right now, but I didn’t see you do anything wrong yet.” His eyebrows narrow. He stops at the security desk and pushes buttons to bring up the camera screens.

“No, not the wheels.” I lean over his desk. He’s got a complete smorgasbord laid out in front of him and it looks really good. Ham sandwich, potato salad, regular salad with ranch dressing, and I’d know ranch dressing from anywhere. There are several snack baggies full of cut up veggies, a thermos for something hot, diet coke and a bottle of water. I can almost taste the cold water. The cold sweating down the side makes it look so refreshing. “Your wife afraid you aren’t eating?”

“My wife is dead.”

A knot instantly forms in my throat. His eyes warm.

“It’s all right. My daughter takes real good care of me.” He holds up a snack bag of carrots. I take it. “Harold.”

I smile pulling apart the bag. Harold is trying to make nice.

“I’m sorry. I have a habit of putting my foot plus my leg in my mouth.” The carrot crunches between my teeth. “I guess I better get back to work.”

“What did you want to talk to me about?” The sandwich he took a bite out of makes my mouth water.

“We’ll talk later.” I decide I’m not ready to confide in Harold yet. I’ve little time to discover whatever it is I’m trying to find.

The little nap and carrots did me good. I’ve got a little giddy-up back in my step and with the building empty—well, I guess Harold is watching me, I can get back to business. I continue down the halls, making a mental note where all the rooms are.

I push my cart down toward Mr. Stone’s office.

I take out the vacuum and try not to look at the camera hanging in the corner of the room. I keep my back to it most of the time and move my arm back in forth as I read Mr. Stone’s calendar. Barely sticking out is a piece of paper.

I turn off the vacuum and shuffle the paper on his desk around with the feather duster so I can read it. Of course the paper is heavier than the little duster so I swing causing all the papers to catch the wind and float to the floor.

“What are you doing?” Harold is standing with the door wide open. “I don’t think this room needs to be cleaned.” His brows draw together, making the creases deep between them. “Mr. Stone’s wife cleans his office.”

“They didn’t tell me what I couldn’t clean.” I scramble to the floor to pick up sheets of paper and quickly slip the one with Dabi’s name on it in my jumpsuit pocket.

“Well, this one and Ms. Stone’s are off limit.” He holds the door wide open, “As a matter of fact, those are the only two rooms you’ve attempted to clean tonight. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a cop. Now why don’t you start with the bathrooms down at the end of the hall?”

Meekly I follow him out and get to my next stop.

Bathrooms.

I push open the first stall with scrub brush in hand and Harold standing over me. I go in for the kill. Harold hands me some scrubbing foam stuff in a can. I bend over and scrub as hard as I can.

“That’s cleanser. Use it.” He shuffles off, hopefully back to his desk. After he talks to management, I’m sure I’ll be fired, so I need to get all the information I can now.

I take the foam and spray it all along the edges. As I’m scrubbing the piece of paper falls into the toilet and I plunge my hand in after it.

“Ewww.” I pull my hand and shake it as soon as I realize what I’ve just done. I look down in the bowl at the only words visible left on the paper.
Dabi Stone: Last Will and Testament page 3
is all I can make out. The cleaner eats it faster than I can read it.

***

“Dabi’s last will and testament is what it said.” On my way home I call Bradley and tell him about my night on the job. “It was in Mr. Stone’s office and only one page. That means there are two more pages somewhere else.”

At least the sun is coming up and no rain in sight. I’m exhausted and ready to hit the sack as soon as I get home.

“Where do you think they are?” Bradley is practically yelling over all the dogs barking in the background.

“I have no clue. But if they don’t fire me first, I’m going to find them. They’re somewhere in that building.”

I’m glad to be home, in the cozy confinements of my house. Aunt Matilda has left a note saying she has taken Herbie to her house so I can get some sleep and will bring him back later in the day. I check the caller ID to see if Erin has called, and feel sad when I see she hasn’t. I resist the urge to call her and ask her about Kent. One thing’s for sure, he is someone none of us knew.

I turn on the TV and settle into the couch with a cup of hot tea. Reruns of
Bewitched
put me sound to sleep.

***

I feel like I just went to sleep when Herbie jumps on me giving me kisses, and Aunt Matilda stands over me with her notebook.

I blink several times and feel the sweat on my brow. I have been dreaming about Dabi Stone’s office, which meant one thing. I had to go back in there.

“What did I say?” I question Aunt Matilda. The notebook in her hand is one sure sign I’ve been talking in my sleep.

“Something about a file.” She sticks her pen in her up-do.

Dabi’s father’s words begin playing over in my head. “No one will look for it in here.”

“Let’s break this down.” I sit up and think out loud as Aunt Matilda takes a seat. “What are the motives, reasons why someone would kill Dabi and Kent?”

Aunt Matilda was always good at this part of our game when I was a kid and I need her to be this good now. “Money, greed, betrayal.”

“But…”

“If this picture of Kent and Dabi is real, and it sure looks real,” she opens up Dabi’s photo album to the wedding picture, “maybe there is some agreement on alimony or he opted out and wanted part of the company.”