Read No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7 Online

Authors: Sara M. Barton

Tags: #florida fiction boy nextdoor financial fraud stalker habersham sc, #exhusband exboyfriend

No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7 (9 page)

BOOK: No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7
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“I’m not mad at you,” I
hissed through the shadows. “I’m mad at Ralph. I’m mad at
myself!”

“So, you’re saying you
believe it’s true? They’re having wild, crazy monkey love at your
expense?” Bosco pulled away, trying to look at me. “Is this the new
Dori?”

“You can bet your ass it’s
the new Dori. What are we going to do about those two?”

“Well, we’re going to go
home, we’re going to have our own version of wild, crazy monkey
love, and in the morning, we’re going to find out exactly who owns
that condo and where the money came from to pay for it.”

 

Chapter Nine --

 

I woke up in Bosco’s bed the
next morning, a little after seven. As I gazed around his bedroom,
I took in all the details. The walls were a platinum grey, the trim
white. There was a dresser in wenge wood, with very clean lines,
with shiny nickel hardware. The bedside chests were simple open
boxes in a warmer wood tone, but with similar lines. A pair of
matching lamps that had rectangular lime green shades above
textured nickel bases sat on top. Covering the window was a set of
wide-slat white wood blinds that seemed to blend into the woodwork.
Bosco had a large landscape print of the Hudson River framed above
the dresser in an aluminum gallery frame, even though the artist
was of a much earlier era. There was another small print of a
summer day on a lake, framed in black, on the wall leading to the
master bath. The only mirror in the room was hung above a narrow
chest of drawers that echoed the style of the dresser. As I got up
to head out to the kitchen, I realized just how different Bosco’s
style was from what we had chosen for our home over the years of
our marriage. This was not a traditional place. Everything was
clean, unfettered, uncomplicated, easy on the eye. And yet, there
was also warmth, in the art prints – the woodsy scenes, the colors
of the water. It was all spare and yet rich. It was comfortable,
but strong. And for the life of me, I couldn’t understand how the
man I had been married to all those years did it. I had expected to
miss our house. I had thought moving in with Bosco was going to
make me miserable. But when I looked around this bedroom, I
couldn’t think of anything I wanted to change. Oh, I might add
things, including more color, but I wouldn’t have taken anything
away. It was like I was seeing him with new, fresh eyes.

“Morning, sunshine.” He
patted me on the fanny as he passed by, turning to look at me.
“Something wrong?”

“I just realized there’s
more to you than meets the eye.”

“In what way?” He toweled
off and pulled on a pair of blue boxers.

“Did you do all this
yourself?” I waved my hand around the room.

“Yes. Why? Did you want to
change it? I’m afraid there’s no money for new furniture, at least
for a while.”

“Actually,” I smiled, “I
like it the way it is.”

“You do?” Bosco had a look
of utter surprise on his face.

“I do. I approve. I just
didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Funny. Neither did I. It
took me six months to pick everything out.” I heard pride in his
voice as he surveyed the room. “It was a matter of figuring out
what I wanted, and that took some time. Hey, you’d better get a
move on if you don’t want to be late for work.”

“I’m going to work today? I
thought we were going to investigate Ralph,” I replied.

“No, babe. I’m going to do
that. You’re going to convince Ralph you have no idea what a
bastard he really is by showing up for work. And while you’re
there, you’re going to give a performance worthy of Meryl Streep,
as the dedicated, hard-working assistant producer. Do you know why
you’re going to do that?” He took my face in his hands and tilted
my head back, so that I had to look him in the eye. “Because after
we take care of Ralph, you’re still going to be at Dynamic
Productions. You will have a business to run and employees to
manage, so don’t blow it. Think of the future.”

“Right,” I nodded. It was
true. We owned nearly half of that company, and I couldn’t afford
to screw it up.

“Don’t forget,” he pointed
out as he kissed my forehead, “that Ralph and Gloria still think
their relationship is a secret. That’s probably a real thrill for
the pair of them.”

As I headed for the shower,
I stopped and looked back. Bosco pulled on his tee shirt, and as
his head emerged, he met my gaze.

“What?”

“Dumb question, Bosco. Do a
lot of guys have mistresses?” He threw his head back and
laughed.

“Babe, most embezzlers have
some kind of vice or love interest that drives them to bad
behavior. Whether it’s the bookkeeper with the penchant for betting
on the horses or the family man who cleans out his company because
he’s got a woman on the side, a lot of people do dumb things. Do
they do it for the thrill of it, for the money, or for their own
selfish needs? It all depends. And just for the record, I’ve seen
female executives, lawyers, doctors, and even educators have their
little flings. It’s not just guys who screw around on their loved
ones.”

“Hmm...I must sound like
Pollyanna, thinking that everyone has goodness inside, and it’s
only a matter of bringing out the best in people.” I shook my head,
disappointed in myself.

“Don’t throw the baby out
with the bathwater, Dori. There are still people worthy of
believing in. You just have to learn to tell the
difference.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged, padding
down the hall to the bathroom

“Don’t stop believing in
people,” he called after me. “It’s better than having no faith at
all. The world still needs optimists. I’ll get the coffee
started.”

By twenty after eight, I was
in my office at Dynamic Productions. Dom was working in his cubicle
in the open production area. When the phone rang, I picked up,
knowing Gloria would want me to take a message.

“Dori, what’s the deal?” It
was Thad Macklehenny, the advertising director for Platinum Health.
“You’ve had our account for more than a decade. Why have you
increased your fees by twenty percent?

“Excuse me?” I was stunned.
Ralph never said anything to me about a price change.”

“I just got the bill for the
last commercial. It’s the same number of hours, but you’ve upped
your rates. In this economy? It’s a recipe for disaster, Dori.
After all the business we’ve sent your way, I expect better than
that from Dynamic Productions!”

“Thad, there must be some
kind of clerical error on that bill. We haven’t changed our fees.
Let me find out what went wrong and get back to you.”

As soon as I hung up the
desk phone, I pulled out my cell and dialed Bosco’s. In a quiet
voice, I filled him in. Standing in the doorway of my office, I had
a view through the front window. I could see Gloria pull into the
parking lot. She lingered in the car, running a brush through her
long hair, before pulling it back in a ponytail. The office phone
rang again as she dawdled over her makeup.

“Bosco, let me get that.
I’ll call you right back.” I picked up the receiver. It was Mary
Lemanski, the advertising manager at Good Fruit, a gourmet foods
company that had a national distribution delivery service. We had
just finished three thirty-second commercials and an infomercial
for their website.

“Hey, Dori,” she said in a
friendly tone. “How’s everything?”

“Same old, same old. How’s
everything with you?”

“Not so good, I’m afraid. My
boss took a chunk out of me this morning, after she saw the bill
for Dynamic Productions.”

“What do you
mean?”

“You people quoted us
$45,000 for those spots, but the bill is for $63,000.”

“That’s a mistake. I sent
you the quote myself, and I know there were no overages. Is it
itemized?”

“It is. There’s even a new
fee for production quality assurance, which is $4,300. What the
hell is production quality assurance?”

“I’ve never heard of it.
Listen, Mary. How long have you known me?” I walked over to the
door and shut it quietly. Gloria was now in the office, starting a
pot of coffee. Kendall was coming through the front door, carrying
camera equipment.

“A long, long
time.”

“Can I ask you to do me a
huge favor? You’re the second call today about the fee increase.
I’m a part-owner in this business and no one informed me that we
were changing prices. I’d like to find out what’s going on. But
just to be on the safe side, I’d like to keep it quiet. Any chance
you could email me a copy of the bill you got, so I can check it
against what’s showing in our books?”

“You think someone is
ripping the company off?” Mary sounded intrigued.

“I don’t know, but I want to
have a chance to get to the bottom of this. If we do have a
problem, I’d like to handle it right away. You know that we’ve
worked hard for you, so I’m asking you to help me out on this. Let
me find out what’s really going on. In the meantime, tell your boss
that I said you’ll pay the same rate you paid last year. Just give
me a day or two to straighten this mess out.”

“Sure. Why not? We loved the
commercials.”

As soon as I got off the
phone with her, I called Thad back. He answered on the third
ring.

“Tell me something. That
bill you got today, did it have something listed as production
quality assurance?” I asked. I waited as he got out the
invoice.

“Yes, it does. What the hell
is production quality assurance?”

“I have no bloody idea,
Thad, but I assure you I’m going to find out, and when I find out,
I’m going to do a little ass-kicking!”

“You go, girl!” he cheered.
“There are also fees for video play-by-play synchronization and
audio resonance control.”

“How much?” My fingers were
itching to dial Bosco with the news.

“Let’s see -- $3,200 and
$670.”

“Thad, if you take out the
production quality assurance, the video play-by-play
synchronization, and the audio resonance, does your bill come back
down to normal?”

“It pretty much does, Dori.
Why?”

“I want to thank you, Thad.
I think you just saved my company. Can you email me a copy of the
invoice you received?”

“You’ve got it.”

Fifteen minutes later, I
forwarded the emails to Bosco, who was all fired up and ready to do
battle. I had a meeting at nine-thirty with a client, but it was
curtly canceled in an email, without explanation. I began to think
I knew the reason why, since I had given Gloria my estimate for the
job last week.

By ten o’clock, the phone
had been ringing almost non-stop, all the calls fielded by Gloria.
I could see her trying to smooth over the ruffled feathers at her
desk. Ralph was in briefly before heading out with Dom and a couple
of interns. They were shooting two commercials for a regional
shopping service.

I made a point of stepping
out into the main office, to grab a cup of coffee, when I saw her
in an animated discussion over the phone. Hoping to hear something
valuable, I lingered at the coffee machine, fiddling with a couple
of packets of sweetener and some creamers. She hung up the phone
and pulled open her desk drawer. She was frowning.

“Everything okay?” I asked.
She blew her nose on a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.

“Yes, yes. Everything is
fine.” Gloria waved me away.

“I wanted to ask you about
something. A client called me today, wanting to know about a new
fee on her bill. Production quality assurance. What exactly is the
purpose of that fee?”

“You’ll have to talk to
Ralph about that, Dori. I’m only his assistant. He’s the
boss.”

“I’m asking you because I
have stock in this company and that makes me part-owner.” I moved
up to her desk and gazed down at her with unwavering interest.
“What is the fee for? My clients have the right to
know.”

Gloria’s gaze faltered and
she glanced away, unable to maintain eye contact. She pulled some
papers off her desk and began to tidy them.

“It used to be bundled under
related charges, but Ralph decided to separate everything out with
his new system. That’s all I know. You’ll have to talk to him when
he comes in. And now,” she insisted,” you’ll have to excuse me. I
have work to do.”

That didn’t sound at all
like a woman who was addressing an employer, and it struck a sour
note with me.

 

Chapter Ten --

 

“What’s the problem, Dori?”
A jovial Ralph greeted me at the door when I came back from lunch.
“Come on into my office and we’ll talk about it.”

I followed him into his
office, where he waved me into one of the chairs opposite his desk.
He folded his hands and waited expectantly for me to explain. I
took a deep breath and measured my words.

“We gave a quote to Platinum
Health that was twenty percent less than the final bill, even
though there were no problems with the shoot. And we did the same
kind of thing to Good Fruit. What’s going on, Ralph?”

BOOK: No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7
11.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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