Death Loves a Messy Desk (37 page)

I could tell by her expression that I was right and that she knew who it was. One more push. “So I’m guessing it was the same guy she was having the fling with.”

“Look, you got enough out of me. I don’t know any more. I recognized her picture, and I didn’t want to cause her any grief. I really liked Angie.”

I kept my cool. “Did you tell her anything about me?”

“Read my lips: I haven’t been in touch. I wouldn’t know how to reach her if I wanted to. She didn’t contact me. Nothing.”

“And the guy who died?”

“I had no reason to talk to him.” She scowled, something left unsaid.

“Because?”

“Well for one thing, he was an instructor; for another, he left shortly after she did. I heard he set up a corporate security business. I don’t know anything else. Do you mind leaving? I feel like crap. I need to call Nick.”

Nick, true to form, didn’t answer. She left a message that probably would have blistered his manly ear. Pepper’s white face got whiter as she spoke. You didn’t have to be a doctor to know she was in pain. She tried his pager next. It must have been hard to have me watching.

“I’m clueless about all this stuff,” I said, “but I have started to ask myself, who needs men? Why don’t we take a run over to Woodbridge General?”

“I’ll never squeeze into that tiny car of yours,” she said.

“Then let me drive yours. I can pick up the Miata later.”

She shook her head.

“Lots of cabs at the hospital,” I said, to eliminate any suspicion that I’d cadge a lift from Nick. “Better safe than sorry. Or I’ll just dial 911, and don’t think I wouldn’t.”

“Okay, but don’t ask me another single damn question. I mean it,” she said.

I knew it was serious.

Forty-five minutes later, Nick finally showed up. I backed out of the hospital room and left him to his fate. “I hope everything’s all right,” I said. “Please keep me in the loop, Pepper. I’ll take your car home and pick up mine.”

Once I got back to the Miata, I took a minute to check my cell phone for messages. One from Robbie, two from Fredelle, one from Connor Tierney.

“Charlotte?” Robbie’s disembodied voice said. “Now I understand about the phone call to clear the building. And I think I’m going to have some great news for you. Please get back to me as soon as you can. I’m heading over to the office.”

Naturally, his cell phone went to message. “I was at the hospital with a friend. My cell phone was off. I’m available now,” I said. “Dying of curiosity. Next time, give the whole story, not vague hints.”

As a precaution, I called Quovadicon. Robbie hadn’t shown up yet. I asked Autumn to have Robbie call me the minute he arrived.

She breathed, “Sure thing, Caroline. I’ll let Fredelle know, too.”

“Charlotte?” Fredelle’s quavering tones said. “I need your help. I have worked out what happened to Dyan. I can’t trust anyone. Can you meet me here after the office closes?”

I said, “Would that be the same office where Dyan was killed and I was knocked out and left looking like a murderer? Because you must be kidding.”

“I’m desperate.”

“Still not happening.”

“Together we can help save Barb. Please come soon.”

I snorted. “Right, and while I’m doing that why don’t I rip off my clothes and run into the graveyard at midnight?”

Of course, I was talking back to a voice mail message, something I’d done far too often in recent days.

“Please don’t let me down, Charlotte. I beg of you. Barb’s life is at—”

I listened to the dial tone and rolled my eyes.

Now I had a ridiculous choice: race off to a place where one murder had already taken place, prodded by a woman I no longer trusted, or sit home and chew my nails because I had promised all my friends that I’d avoid rash and dangerous activities.

I’d promised myself the same thing.

What to do?

The dogs cocked their heads, meaning, Let’s practice commands and you can give us lots of treats and we may even cooperate.

“I doubt that,” I said, picking up the phone.

I got Margaret’s voice mail and Sally’s voice mail. I swallowed my pride and called Jack, too. Voice mail. I left messages detailing what was happening, describing Robbie’s call and Fredelle’s.

There was just one person left.

Connor Tierney was not too important to answer his phone. And even better, he was not too busy to join me at Quovadicon. Apparently, that was the most excellent idea I’d had in a long time.

“I’m on the far side of town,” he said. “Give me a chance to get over to the site first. Don’t go in without me.”

“Do I look crazy?”

“No comment. Although I can’t actually see you.”

“Very funny.”

“I need you to give me a fifteen-minute head start and then you’ll wait until I’m there.”

“You already said that. And may I remind you that I’m the person who let you know about this. I don’t really trust Fredelle, but I don’t think she’s capable of killing anyone. And as for Robbie, well . . .”

“Hold that thought. I’m getting into the car.”

“I have to be back here in time to go to a meeting tonight.” I didn’t mention it had to do with the dogs. He already thought I was nuts.

He said, “Fifteen minutes won’t make a difference to Fredelle. So don’t go early! Bye now.”

I used the head start time to do one more run through SIT, LIE DOWN, STAY, LEAVE IT, and COME. I was amazed at how much improvement there had been in a few days. Meaning that they did COME and SIT once each. Perhaps they could become therapy dogs after all. Unless a whole new set of challenges was thrown at me at the orientation meeting.

I changed quickly into the clothes I would need for that session: crisp chinos, a white T-shirt, my fuchsia cashmere hoodie, and casual flats. I grabbed my umbrella because the sky had clouded over alarmingly. I tossed the dogs a couple of treats and told them they were in charge.

By the time I slid the Miata into the visitors’ parking area at Quovadicon, the trees on the fringe of the property were swaying alarmingly. There was no sign of Robbie’s silver Camry, but I spotted Fredelle’s shiny red Ford Focus parked near the loading docks rather than the front door. The bright yellow Volkswagen convertible was parked next to a Mercedes SUV. And an unmarked white Ford Taurus of the type favored by the Woodbridge police department was angled in that way that says cops own the world. It almost blocked a battered black Civic with dusty plates. The door to the Civic was ajar. I crept over to it, expecting to find Barb Douglas. I still wasn’t used to thinking about her as Angie. But the car was empty. Had she gone inside? I couldn’t imagine why.

I was supposed to wait for Tierney, but he must have figured that didn’t work both ways. Nice. I just love that whole two-sets-of-rules attitude. Because he had a gun and a sense of his own importance, he could just waltz in anywhere.

Well, Fredelle had called
me
, and I was pretty sure she’d talk to me. I stepped out of the Miata just as the first large heavy drops splashed on the car roof. A rumble of thunder followed, and then the rain began to sluice down. I grabbed my umbrella, but it flipped inside out as I opened it. By the time I could adjust my hoodie to cover my hair, it was plastered to my head. Not that my hair was so important, but I knew that if anything in the slightest bit news-worthy was to happen here, Connor Tierney would appear crisp and chisel-jawed and generally heroic on WINY news. I was equally sure that if the cameras were rolling, I would be soaking wet and windblown with just a hint of homicidal mania tossed in for the viewers’ appreciation.

The front door opened and Autumn appeared, absentmindedly stepping out and squealing as her long hair swirled around her in the gale winds.

She ducked back into the building, peered, and spotted me with a start of recognition. She waved and called. “Oh, hi, Caroline! Hurry up! You’ll drown.”

I staggered up to the entrance, fighting the wind and rain. Autumn and I struggled to open the front door and pull it shut behind us.

“Awesome,” Autumn said. “This is really something.” Her keys dangled in her hand as she assessed her chances of getting to her vehicle. “I don’t even have an umbrella.”

“Wouldn’t do you any good,” I said. “It would blow inside out in a minute. Do you have a raincoat?”

She shook her head. “I’m glad you got here. Fredelle’s been really worried about you.”

I’d been worried about her, too, but I had no idea why she’d be worried about me. “Because of the storm?”

Autumn blanked. “Wow. I have no idea. I’m sorry.”

Being Autumn, she’d never think to ask, either. But of course, why was I even surprised?

“Don’t worry about it, Autumn. Did Robbie ever show up?”

“I didn’t see him. And I have to leave now.”

“So where is Fredelle now? In her office?”

“No, she’s over in the loading dock. I don’t know what she’s doing there. She told me to get lost.” Autumn’s face fell. “That’s not really cool, is it? I don’t know what it is about this place, but everyone seems to be really nasty lately.”

“I hear you.”

“Do you need me to show you the way? I have this sort of date with a guy I met and I’m like really late. I wasn’t even supposed to be here this evening, but Fredelle called me back in. That was before she told me to get lost. Do you think that’s fair?” She bit her lip.

“That’s okay,” I said. “Don’t miss out on your date. I know the way to the dock. I’ll find her.”

Her pretty, vacant face lit up again. “Awesome. Wow. Thanks, Caroline. I’m sure glad I put the top up on my Bug or I’d be really soaked.”

As she leaned hard to open the door in the face of the wind, I said, “I’ll bet. By the way, did you see the police officer come in yet?”