On Tour (24 page)

There was a knock. I looked up at the window. Carol waved. I waved her in. Her bright smile faded to dismay as she glanced around my shabby office.

"Oh, no! It's horrible."

"It's not that bad."

Carol put her head in her hands. "They wouldn't put you here if they planned on keeping you."

"But they're just waiting for a better space to open," I said.

Carol shook her head sadly.

"But it's going to be okay. We had great attendance today, and I've got this." I handed her a copy of the notes that Mark had helped me with last night.

Carol flipped through the pages. "Wow—this is great, Diana. I mean really great. I should've been working on this with you," she worried.

"I was fine. Mark helped me. You were supposed to be enjoying your date." I wiggled my brows. "I need details."

A smile lit Carol's face. "It was good. We didn't get to spend a lot of time together, but he asked me out for dinner on Sunday."

"Nice!" In all the years I'd known Carol, she'd never talked about dating. I'd always wondered if there was some great romantic tragedy haunting her past.

Carol looked at her watch and grimaced. "Guess it's time to face the music."

We left my office and headed across the building to the executive offices. This area hadn't been part of Megan's tour, but Carol had been here when she was negotiating the terms of the service contract.

We stepped into the outer office where Mr. Johnson's assistant guarded his door. "Hi, Cathy," Carol said as we stepped through the door. "Have you met Diana yet?"

Cathy was mid-twenties and movie-star beautiful. "Why no, but I've heard a lot of good things." She stood and shook my hand.

"Sorry to call you so late last night," she said to Carol. "He gets an idea and wants it done ten minutes ago."

Carol waved it away. "So having a new boss is going okay for you?"

Cathy shrugged. "It's been fine. They always have quirks." She laughed. "The stories I could tell you."

We all laughed. Her phone rang. She answered it then looked up at us. "Okay, will do." She hung up. "You can go in now."

We walked into a huge, dark paneled office with an over-sized couch on one side of the room and a bank of windows on the other. A giant ugly oil painting depicting a ship sinking in a storm hung over the sprawling heavy oak desk. Wow, talk about your outdated rooms. They could film an episode of
Mad Men
in here.

Jeff Johnson was a tall man with graying hair and the look of a heavy smoker. "Come in ladies. Glad you could make it on short notice. Have a seat." He pointed to the chairs in front of his desk.

"I see you still haven't gotten around to redecorating," Carol said lightly. "Maybe Cathy could help."

He waved a finger that held an electronic cigarette. I'd never seen one up close. "Oh, hope you don't mind this. I promise I'm not infringing on your right to clean air."

We both said it was fine.

"Yeah, the more time that goes by the more the room grows on me. Hey, Bob Wilson was here for forty years. It worked for him."

Bob Wilson had died of a heart attack at work. Probably in this room. I looked up at the turbulent seascape above his head and started to feel queasy.

"Anyway, thanks for coming by on such short notice." He put the cigarette in its holder and leaned forward. "So I'm sitting in on the supervisors' meeting yesterday afternoon, and I hear all this talk about the on-site supervisor from Greene's Staffing. Most of it good." He gave me a nod. "Then, after the meeting the boys ask me if I want to join their betting pool. Guess ol' Bobby started the whole thing years ago. The boys continued the tradition after he'd passed. So, yesterday's bet was whether or not you'd be back. Guess your first day was a little rough." He paused to nod sympathetically at me again. "Now, I told the boys I'd have to do a little research before I placed my bet. Couldn't bet on someone I knew nothing about, right?"

I nodded, worried about where this was going.

"Low and behold you're
the
Diana Hudson. The hometown girl who wrote 'The Rum Song.' Made it big with the pirates!" His smile was broad, and there was a fan frenzy glow in his eyes.

"Yep, that's me," I said. "We have a plan we'd like to show you about working out the—

He waved his hand. "I didn't bring you here for that. From what I can tell, you've made a good start. You two will do fine with this contract." I could hear Carol let out a sigh of relief. "No, I asked you here for something selfish." He looked a little uncomfortable. "My wife is a huge fan of yours. I was hoping to get an autograph."

"An autograph?" All this for an autograph?

He nodded and handed me a piece of paper.

"What's her name?" I asked and then scribbled a note.

He took the paper back. "One more thing," he said. "Would you consider playing a few songs at the company Christmas party? I know it's a long way off, but I figure your calendar books up quickly."

That caught me off guard. "Ah—I'll have to check my calendar, but I'd like to."

"That would be great." He gave me a big smile. "It would go a long way if the new guy scored a rock star for the Christmas party. Bobby left some pretty big shoes to fill. This would really help me out."

We left the meeting slightly dazed. Maybe deflated was a better word.

"I can't believe we were so worried about getting canned." Carol shook her head. "Guess it pays to have a business partner who's a rock star."

"Yeah, I thought this day was going to go downhill, but everything worked out." My phone started to vibrate in my purse.

It was an unknown number. I debated whether or not to answer it.

Might as well, I was on a roll.

"Hello?"

"Yo, Shorty, it's me."

My veins turned to ice water.

"Why are you calling me, Tyrell?"

"Doin' some more good deeds. Staying in line with my vortex. Listen up. I ain't got but a few seconds." His voice was whispered.

"Go ahead."

"The Spider's still out there, girl. Got you wrapped tight up in its web."

I sucked in my breath. "That's not true! They got him in Miami. It's over." I felt a sob rise in my throat.

"Listen! The dude was takin' a fall. Left hook, baby. Anyway, he just an itsy, bitsy spider."

"But how can you know that? The authorities haven't been able to get anything out of him since he confessed."

"That dude was just a wannabe Spider. He didn't make the cut."

I was completely bewildered. "What cut? What are you talking about?"

He sighed. "Look, that dude was part of the Five Families, right? He wasn't The Spider. He was just in the trainin' program, tryin' to climb his way up the spout." Tyrell laughed. "But you just kept turnin' on the water."

"This isn't helping. I need details, Tyrell."

"There's some gray-beards in here that get to talkin' too much. Got the Old-Timers disease, ya know. They say you earn your way into this group of hitters. The top one is The Spider. There was a changing of the guard a few years back like a coup or something. Tell your G-man to start there. Mean time, you get outta sight now."

"I can't." I looked around wildly. We were at my cubicle. Carol was looking at me with concern.

"Then you dead girl."

After telling Carol about Tyrell's call, I called Mark. I sat across from Carol in my office, tears welling in my eyes.

There was silence from Mark after I told him what had happened. Then he said quietly, "I need to go to Miami. I'll call Andre and Marsha. Maybe we could find a hotel somewhere—"

"No, I don't want to be alone. I'll go somewhere safe, but I don't want to be alone." I was adamant.

"You can come stay with me," Carol offered.

Mark dismissed that idea as too close to home and not a good way to protect me.

"I could go back to Ashley's." Much as I hated the idea, it was better than being alone.

"You need to go somewhere that has a controlled entrance. Then we can beef it up with our own people. What about your parent's place? It's gated."

"Sure, but my parents' houses are on the golf course. It's not very secure. Really, the only secure place at The Meadows is at The Grands' apartments. It's designed to ensure the old folks don't wander off."

"That's perfect!" Mark said. "You stay with The Grands until this thing blows over. I'll go to Miami as soon as I can get Andre and Marsha back. Go there now," he ordered.

"I guess I can tell everyone my place is being fumigated." My head was reeling. "But what about my clothes and Max?" 

"Great idea!" Mark said. "I'll bring your stuff and Max over this evening on my way to the airport."

I hung up with Mark and looked up at Carol. Her face was pale. "Oh, Diana, I'm so worried about you."

I dropped my head to my hands. "I'm so tired of this cat-and-mouse game. I can't take much more. Oh," I said, suddenly remembering where I was, "and I'm going to leave you in the lurch right when things are starting to turn around."

Carol shook her head. "No, I'll fill in for you here, and Tabitha will run the office. I'll hire someone else to help her if I have to. I'll tell everybody here that we're switching off so I'm cross-trained. You go and be safe." Her kind face made me feel even worse. "Anything I should know? Anything pending?"

I thought about the hair in the hopper problem. Oh, boy. I hated to spring that on her and then leave. "Mary Lou has a temp she's accused of washing her hair in the toilet," I blurted out.

Carol stared at me a second and then waved it away. "She's probably not washing her hair in the toilet. I've had this happen a couple of times before."

"Really?"

Carol nodded. "You know the guy who takes a bath in our sink at the office on Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

I nodded.

"Well, before I offered him the use of our bathroom, I had the same thing happen with him at Harris Manufacturing. Turns out he was filling up a big cup of water from the sink and going into the toilet stall to wash in private. He rinsed off over the toilet. Flushed the dirty water away."

"Then why doesn't she just use her cup over the sink?" I wondered, temporarily distracted from my impending assassination by the hair in the hopper incident.

"She's embarrassed. Poor girl doesn't want everyone knowing she has no place to wash her hair."

She'd be really embarrassed if she knew people thought she was "warshin" her hair in the hopper. "So, you think you can smooth this over?" I asked.

"I'll talk to Mary Lou and the temp. Maybe there's a place she could shower in the plant. I remember seeing showers when I was on the tour. Maybe over in QC? If not, I'll offer her a time slot in our bathroom. We really need a shower in the new building," she said distractedly.

I nodded. My mind was starting to turn to mush. I felt The Spider closing in on me.

"Get going, Diana," Carol said, standing up to give me a hug. "I'll hold down the fort. You be safe. Call me when you can."

I held her tight for a moment and then grabbed my briefcase and headed for my car.

On the ride to Delaware I called Aunt Pearl and Mammaw's apartment at The Meadows.

Aunt Pearl answered on the third ring. "Hold your horses! Hello? Hello?" she bellowed into the receiver.

"Hi, Aunt Pearl, it's Diana."

"Oh, Diana! How's my Queenie Baby?"

Her gruff old voice made me tear up. "I'm okay, Aunt Pearl. But I need a place to stay for a few day—"

"Did that boy throw you over? Why that no good varmint! I'll put a loada rock salt in his keister."

"No, Mark's fine. My house is being fumigated. Terrible spider problem." Oh, how I wished it was that easy to get rid of my real pest. "Can Max and I stay for a few days?"

"Sure shootin' you can. But wouldn't you have more room over at your ma's? Not that we don't want company. In fact, Mammaw's been cleaning like a fiend for the last two days sayin' someone was comin' for a visit."

Mammaw always knew things before anyone else. She also talked to herself a lot. The doctors said it was the beginnings of dementia, but the family was pretty sure she talked to ghosts.

"I was really hoping to spend some time with you and Mammaw and be close to Granddaddy and Uncle Grover. It's been so long since I've seen you all."

"Hmph! Granddaddy and Uncle Grover are in L-O-V-E. Can't get the fools to do much else but moon after those old ladies of theirs. You know your neighbor's here for a tour today? Grover's about got her talked into moving into an apartment here."

Great. Stuck with Mrs. Kester again. "That's nice. So is it okay with you? I'm actually heading your way now."

"Well, come on with yourself, then. We got bingo tonight, and there's fish sticks on the menu for dinner. You picked the right day."

I hung up and felt a wave of relief. I couldn't think of a safer place to be than with The Grands. 

*  *  *

The Meadows wasn't Fort Knox, but I did have to register my car at the front gate and get a visitor pass. Better than nothing, I guessed. To the left was the road that led to the meticulously manicured duplexes on the golf course where The Parents lived. To the right, around a tree-lined drive, was the large apartment building that housed The Grands.

I parked in a visitor space. All the other spaces were numbered, one for each apartment. Despite there being few actual drivers in the complex, the residents closely guarded their assigned spaces, chasing away trespassers with the tenacity of a gold miner protecting his claim.

The building was four stories high with small patios attached to each apartment.

"Yoo-hoo! Diana!" I looked up. Aunt Pearl and Mammaw waved frantically from their patio on the second floor. "The code is 6148!" Aunt Pearl called, pointing to the door.

Yeah, definitely not Fort Knox. I waved to them and headed for the entrance. I walked up the flight of stairs to the second floor. I was always amazed at the door decorating competition that produced displays like the intricate crocheted wreaths and the smiling wooden bunny plaques I passed on the way to their apartment. Aunt Pearl and Mammaw's door was festooned with small American flags. "There she is!" Aunt Pearl announced as she enveloped me in her strong arms, the smell of Youth Dew and baby powder nearly overpowering me.