Authors: Claire Gillian
“You’re joking, right?”
He angled his head up to me from where he sat on the sofa, putting on his shoes. “No, I’m not.” No smile. No wink. Nothing.
“Weird. Are you moving?” I asked, pointing to the boxes by his front door.
“Uh … no, just donating some stuff to Goodwill.”
I walked over and plucked out a woman’s pale pink angora sweater folded on top. “Yeah, pink’s not really your color, and this is probably not a good fit either.”
I realized too late my joke carried an unintentional double meaning. Judging from his wide eyes under raised brows, he must have picked up on both. Those boxes weren’t going to Goodwill. They were going to the home of one ex-fiancée and possible ex-roommate. Why was he so cagey about her?
He snatched the sweater from my hand and threw it back in the box. “Come on, let’s go.”
I saluted him. “Right-o, Johnny-o!” Obviously my nosing around in his stuff had unsettled Mr. Privacy. I swallowed the urge to tease him further, but many more unanswered questions piqued my curiosity.
“Can I drive your car?” he asked.
“Why?”
“I prefer not to be a passenger.”
“Do you ask bus drivers if you can pilot the bus too?”
“No. I get motion sick when I’m a passenger but not when I drive.”
“White Rock Lake isn’t that far.”
“The road is winding.” He shot me a sheepish look.
I wasn’t buying his swampland but didn’t care enough to challenge him. “Oh good grief. Here.” I handed him my keys.
“Thanks!” He spun the key ring around his finger like some kind of gunslinger and hustled me out of his apartment.
• • •
Jon backed into a parking space at Rocky’s near the restaurant’s entrance so we could spy on the comings and goings.
Ten minutes passed, and nothing happened.
I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I’m going inside to make sure he isn’t already there.”
“By yourself?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “It’s just a restaurant.”
“Why don’t we both go and eat while we wait?”
“They might recognize us.”
“No, they won’t. Kenneth said he got them a booth in the back. If we sit on the side and keep our menus to cover our faces, we’ll be fine.” His eyes tracked a couple headed inside.
“What if they’re already inside and have a clear view of the front door? We’re busted from the word go.”
“Okay, I’ll go in first and scope out the place. I’ll call you on your cell if the coast is clear,” Jon said.
“Why do you think you’re so much less noticeable than me?” I cocked my head to the side.
Typical man!
He wanted to take over even though I came up with the idea in the first place.
“Because I doubt Kenneth will be watching for a man. He’ll be on alert for a woman, right? You walk in alone, and he’ll be ‘Hello, who’s that? Is she my mistress? Why no, she’s that pesky auditor from Anderson-Blakely. Abort. Abort.’” He pantomimed speaking into a microphone on his wrist during the last bit and smirked at me.
“What if the woman he’s meeting is, in fact, Leslie Turner, and she’s already there? She’ll be looking for a man. You walk in, and she’ll be all ‘Is that my stud muffin, Kenneth? Why no. He’s the hot auditor from my party. Mmm-mmm. Wonder if I can trade up?’ I’ll have to rescue you, and the gig’ll be up.” I grinned and tried to give him a pinch on the cheek, but he caught my arm, chuckling softly as he held me captive.
“You think I’m hot?” He released my wrist and gave me a tickling poke in the ribs.
I yelped and jumped in my seat. “I was speaking from Leslie’s point of view. Don’t let it go to your head, Cripps, because I—”
“Gayle, shh!”
“Don’t shush me,” I huffed.
“Duck! Now!” He pulled my upper body down onto his lap and draped himself over me.
“What? Did you see Kenneth? What’s he doing? What’s happening?” I babbled to distract from the embarrassing reality of where my head lay.
“Yeah. Stud muffin at twelve o’clock.”
We both inched up to peer over the dashboard. Kenneth checked his watch before he entered the restaurant.
“Well that settles that,” I said. “Neither of us is going in now.”
“Not for a while anyway.”
“Now we wait to see who joins him.”
We slouched in our seats and remained silent for ten minutes until I spotted a single woman approaching the entrance.
“Jon! Three o’clock. Vixen alert. I knew it! It’s Leslie!”
“Kenneth
is
having an affair with Leslie. You were right!”
I slugged him gently in the arm. “Told you so. Let’s keep watching.”
A few minutes later, a single man hurried to the door. He turned around as if scanning his surroundings. Instead of going inside, however, he reversed direction and walked toward a black Mercedes parked a few rows in front and a few spaces to the right of us. The streetlamp lit his face, and together we gasped, “Bob!”
“This is getting good. Do you think he found out and came to confront them?” I asked.
“Could be a coincidence. Bob and Leslie might be having dinner together at the same place Kenneth is meeting his mistress.”
“What’s Bob doing?”
“Looks like he’s got his cell phone out,” Jon said, shifting higher. He ducked down with urgency.
“Did he see you?” I whispered as if Bob could hear me spying.
“I don’t think so. Let me check again.” Jon rose. “He’s got his back to us now, but he’s still on his phone. He tried the door of the Mercedes, but no go.”
“I didn’t notice its driver, did you? Was it already parked when we got here?”
“I’m assuming the car is Kenneth’s. I’ve seen one like it at Aphrodite before. Hey, Bob’s off the phone now and is waiting next to the car.”
Not much later, the door to Rocky’s opened.
“Well looky here, Jon, at nine o’clock. Guess which Serbian CFO is leaving the restaurant?”
“There goes Bob, skulking away from the Mercedes like he doesn’t want to be seen,” Jon said.
Kenneth strolled to the car, hopped in and left the parking lot. Another car followed close behind him. A few minutes later, Leslie walked out, got in her car, and drove away too.
“What the hell is going on?” I exclaimed.
“I don’t know, but tonight’s show has now concluded. Let’s go eat. I love Rocky’s.”
“Shouldn’t we follow them?” I asked.
Jon gave me the ‘Why?’ look, complete with a stubborn set to his jaw. “We got what we came for—confirmation Leslie and Kenneth are fooling around.” He removed my car keys from the ignition and tucked them in his pocket.
“I’m guessing Bob tailed Leslie and called Kenneth on his cell to lure him out and confirm his suspicions. Don’t you want to know where Kenneth is going? Where Leslie and Bob are going?” I held my hands out in a palms up pleading gesture. We were just getting to the juicy bits, and he was ready to leave?
“It’s none of our business.” He frowned and opened his door.
Disappointment tinged my exit from the car. I’d pushed the envelope far enough with Jon, so I conceded. “What kind of food does Rocky’s serve?”
“Steak.”
“Sounds good.”
We entered, and the staff seated us in a booth made for two in a side alcove. Candlelight illuminated the dim interior except near the open kitchen and the maître d’s station. Kenneth’s reasons for choosing Rocky’s for his rendezvous location came clear—abundant half walls, nooks and crannies guaranteed intimacy at most of the tables.
“This place must attract every adulterer in Dallas.” I whispered, leaning toward Jon.
My heart fluttered over the prices on the menu. I’d need to take out a loan or barter some dishwashing services. ”Uh, this is a little out of my price range,” I said. “You caught how old and beat up my car is? I need to buy a new one soon, but I won’t be able to if I buy fifty-dollar steaks.”
“I got it,” Jon said.
I shook my head. “I can’t let you do that. I dragged you out here. If anyone should pay, it should be me. I just hope you don’t mind settling for appetizers and water.”
“Works for me,” he said as he closed his menu. “Potato skins, shrimp cocktail and two side salads sound good?” He impressed me with his ability to cobble together a decent meal out of the lowest cost menu items.
“Yeah.” I smiled.
Jon placed our entire order when the waiter came. I’d never had a man order on my behalf before, my father excepted.
Southern charm aside, the feminist in me bristled, but that harpy was overruled.
After dinner, he still insisted on paying the tab, so I tossed him an ultimatum. “I pay, or I drive. Take your pick.”
“Fine. You drive. But since I’m paying, I say we order coffee and two different world famous Rocky’s desserts to share before we leave.”
He signaled our waiter to order, and a few minutes later our first dessert made a grand entrance.
We dove into a gooey, chocolaty confection dubbed “Chocolate Ecstasy Cake” and laughed at how the dark sticky bits gave us both hillbilly teeth. Crumbs and a few smears of chocolate were all that remained when our waiter delivered a made-to-order “Bombe Alaska” he doused in rum and set afire.
Good thing we were no longer trying to keep a low profile.
• • •
I pulled into a parking space at Jon’s apartment but kept the engine running.
“Do you want to come in for a while? It’s only nine,” he said.
Yes!
“I’d better not.”
Chicken.
“I’ve got some long neglected chores to finish. Thanks though.”
Oh shut up! He just split with his fiancée.
“Sure. Well, okay. Good night.”
He got out and slapped his hand twice on the hood. I kept tabs on him in my rearview mirror as he dug his hands in his pockets, but he remained rooted to his spot. Not until I reached the main road did he turn to enter his apartment. I don’t know if I was touched by his stereotypical male protectiveness or offended and pondered the question for the three-block trip home.
10
My cell woke me at six the next morning. “Dammit Doug, if that’s you, I’ll kill you,” I grumbled. Starting time for Aphrodite was eight. I still had another half hour to sleep.
Doug was not my caller.
“Have you seen the news yet?” Jon began.
“No, I was sleeping. What’s going on?”
“Oh, sorry. Kenneth Petrovich was found dead last night at White Rock Lake.”
I sat bolt upright. “Oh my God! What happened?”
“They’re saying he died of a gunshot wound to the head. They found his body in his parked car around eleven.
“White Rock Lake? Near Rocky’s?” I scurried to retrieve my newspaper from my door step as I spoke.
“Sort of. Rocky’s is on the south side. He was in the north side recreational area parking lot.”
I unsheathed the paper from its plastic wrapper and began to scan for the story. “Did someone kill him, or was it suicide?”
“They withheld most of the details other than robbery didn’t appear to be a motive since his car, wallet and cash were all accounted for.”
Various scenarios ran through my head. “We were among the last people to see him alive. Wow. Just … wow.”
“I wonder how the Aphrodite employees will take the news,” he said.
“We’ll find out soon enough. Do you think we should go to the police, tell them what we saw at Rocky’s?”
“Not yet. Let’s see what unfolds first.”
We finished our call, and I read the short article which matched what Jon said nearly verbatim.
Kenneth dead. His company in financial trouble. Someone killed him. I knew it in my gut.
• • •
Funereal aptly described the atmosphere at Aphrodite. Even Arthur seemed choked up as he made the announcement to staff who hadn’t yet learned of Kenneth’s untimely passing. Nicky bawled. Jayna wailed. With everyone in tears or shock, Arthur closed the Aphrodite office and sent the employees home for two days.
Doug directed the Anderson-Blakely team to pack up and head back to our office to work.
“I never did get to finish looking through the storage room yesterday,” I said to Jon. “Now would be a good day to try again with so many people gone.”
“I know where Nicky keeps the key,” he said. “Let’s go as soon as Doug leaves. We’ll have to be fast, though, since he’ll be expecting us back.”
An affair and a dead body had certainly changed someone’s tune.
Jon and I had almost reached Nicky’s desk when we heard Bob and Arthur’s voices growing louder as we neared Kenneth’s office.
I darted into Jayna’s dark office and pulled Jon along with me. We pressed up against her wall near the door so we could eavesdrop unseen.
“Thanks, Arthur,” Bob said. “We’re all shocked about Kenneth’s death. I have to admit the circumstances worry me. I hope this had nothing to do with Aphrodite, but …” He took a big breath. “… I must advise you, we did find certain … irregularities in Aphrodite’s records. In light of the suspicions surrounding his death, I think we’d be prudent to dig deeper into those inconsistencies.”
“Yes, yes. Absolutely,” Arthur blustered. “I shudder to think there might be a connection between Kenneth’s death and Aphrodite.”
Bob sighed. “I’ll come back next week with an estimate for the forensic procedures. We’ll go over them then. Would you like Jayna to be included since she is now your most senior financial officer?”
“Um, no. Jayna and Kenneth were a little too close, if you get my meaning. If Kenneth was involved in anything shady, I’m afraid it would cast Jayna in a similar light.”
“I understand,” Bob said, sounding grave. “Of course. We’ll do our investigation in confidence and report all of our findings directly to you and your board of directors. I do think we should delay or even cancel the initial public offering for now.”
“Yes, of course. Kenneth had been the one pushing for more capital for expansion, not me.”
Jon and I looked at each other within the shadows of Jayna’s office, unspoken questions zinging back and forth. When Arthur and Bob left the area, we abandoned our plan to search the storage room and headed to the office downtown.
Jon called me on my cell phone as we drove our separate cars. “So Kenneth was fooling around with Jayna too? Who
was
this guy?”