Double Trouble

by Curry, Edna

  “There’s been no activity on any of the credit cards since they were stolen,” he told her digging into his shrimp and peapods.

  Rosie nodded. “That’s good, but I reported them all as stolen, anyway. They promised you’ll receive new cards in the mail shortly.”

  “Good,” he said. He didn’t want to tell her that it hardly mattered. He couldn’t use them anyway, because they were all maxed out.

  They ate in silence for awhile.

  He was soon full and toyed with the last of his shrimp. His appetite seemed to have disappeared along with his energy.

  “You need to eat, Ken.” Rosie said, eyeing him.

  “Don’t mother me,” he growled at her. “I know how much my stomach can handle, even if I don’t remember my name.”

  “Okay, okay. Have it your way. I was just trying to help.”

  He grunted, but wouldn’t look at her.

  She chewed her lip and added, “But you’d better get some rest. You’re still looking pretty pale. And your eye is swelling again. Do you want another ice pack?”

  “All right,” he agreed, finishing off the hot tea.

  She got the ice pack from the freezer and handed it to him. He took it and went to lie down for a while, but couldn’t fall to sleep. When the ice pack lost its coldness, he got up and put it back in the freezer, then went back to his desk.

  ~ * ~

  Rosie finished putting away the leftovers and cleared the table. After putting away the clean pots and pans the dishwasher had finished earlier, she put their dishes in it, and then noticed he’d left the mail on the kitchen table.

  Carrying it back to the living room, she asked, “Do you want me to sort this for you?”

  “No, I can do it.” He took the envelopes and dropped the ones that were obviously junk advertising in the wastebasket beside his desk, and then frowned at one envelope. It had Ken Latham printed on it, but no address. The letters had been cut from a newspaper and unevenly pasted onto the envelope.

  “Look at this,” he said. “I don’t think it came through the mail.”

  “Open it,” she said in a strangled voice.

  He opened the envelope to find a sheet of paper with the message, “Don’t think you can hide behind a fake name. Pay up or else!” The words were formed from more letters cut from a newspaper. He read it and turned to show it to her.

  “Those creeps! More threats,” she said.

  “What do you mean, more threats? Have there been others?”

  Reluctantly she nodded. “I answered the phone for you at the office a couple of times. Some man demanded money he said you owed him.”

  “Did you tell me?”

  She nodded.

  “And? What did I say?” Kirk asked impatiently.

  “You didn’t explain. You just swore and said you’d take care of it. I was to stay out of it.” She eyed him. “Whatever ‘it’ was.”

  Kirk wondered again what in the world was going on. Apparently she was as puzzled as he was, and he hadn’t wanted her to know about it.

  “Ken, this is getting serious. We have to let the police help us figure it out, since you can’t help without your memory.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  She took another large envelope and held it out to him. “Drop the threat in this. I’ll give it to Lee at the police station on my way to work. Maybe he can figure out who sent it from fingerprints or something. You stay here and rest like the doctor said.”

  He hated to admit she was right, but his head was pounding and he felt nauseous. “All right,” he agreed reluctantly.

  “I’ll get you another ice pack. “She went to the freezer in the kitchen and brought him the cloth-covered frozen jelly ice pack. “Be sure to put it back in the freezer when you’re done.”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  He grinned at her and Rosie couldn’t help returning the grin. She had sounded like a mother hen. She picked up her purse and tucked the envelope inside. “I’m going back to the office for a while,” she told him. She grabbed a pen and wrote a phone number on it. “Here’s the number. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Sure.”

  “I think we’d better leave going to the DMV for tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you at nine. I’ll call first to see if you’re feeling up to it.”

  “I’m sure I will,” Kirk said, annoyed at himself for feeling weak. He watched her leave, feeling a bit awkward.

  Did she expect a kiss goodbye? But she merely smiled at him, said, “See you in the morning,” and walked out.

  Relieved, he locked the door after her and lay down for an hour with the ice pack.

  Then he returned to dealing with his finances. He hadn’t wanted to tell Rosie his lack of appetite had more to do with worry than his physical recovery from the mugging.

  His paycheck stubs showed he made a pretty good salary, yet all his credit cards were maxed out. The last few charges had been the day of the mugging, at a grocery store, a sporting goods store and a gas station. He recognized those places as ones he and his parents had stopped at near their family cabin. Apparently little had changed out there, not even the names of the stores.

  After those charges, there was nothing. Nada, zip. Odd that the muggers hadn’t charged up a storm on those cards, since Rosie hadn’t called in to cancel them until the next day. Why steal them if they didn’t intend to use them? Or had they tried to buy something expensive and been refused because the cards were over their limit? It was possible.

  His checking balance was almost nil as well. Why? He could find almost nothing big that he’d purchased lately. His Cadillac was two years old. He could find no recent record of car payments so it must be paid for. Most of the credit card charges were modest restaurant tabs and large cash ATM withdrawals. What had he needed all that cash for?

  He searched his arms for needle marks, then went to the bedroom, stripped and checked his body in the full length mirror. No needle marks.

  Then he laughed at himself, realizing that he couldn’t be addicted to anything like drugs or cocaine. If he had been, he’d be sicker than a dog with withdrawal symptoms by now. And he felt fine other than his black eye, pounding head and worrying about his situation.

  What a spot to be in, he thought as he dressed again. He’d found last month’s bill for the cleaning service and called to cancel that. He could clean up after himself.

  Shopping for new furniture would definitely have to wait. His bed, desk and kitchen were still usable, so he had the basics anyway. He could make do with those for now.

  Who needed a sofa and soft chairs anyway? He didn’t even have the price of a meal, since his billfold had been stolen as well. He’d found another billfold in a bedroom drawer, but hadn’t found any money in this apartment.

  Damn it! What was he going to do? Should he demand an advance on his salary? That would look great to the boss, wouldn’t it, when he wasn’t even working.

  Then he remembered the large diamond ring Rosie had returned to him in the hospital. That had to be worth some money! He could cash it in, if he hadn’t just charged it, that is. Finding his jacket, he got the ring from the pocket and looked it over, deciding it must be real. But was it paid for? Or only bought on credit?

  He searched through his desk files for the receipt and finally found it. When it showed he’d made a hefty down payment in cash for it, he sighed with relief.

  He called a cab and gave the driver the name and address of the store. The driver said it was in a nearby mall and drove him there. He got out, telling the cabbie to wait for him. He didn’t even have cab fare, so this had better work!

  The store was an elegant one, carrying an obviously expensive line of wedding rings. It was a quiet time of day and he was the only customer at the moment.

  A middle aged, well-dressed man approached and asked, “May I help you, sir?”

  “Yes. I’d like to return this ring, please. “He held out the ring and the receipt for it.

  The tal
l, elegant jeweler eyed him suspiciously and he realized the swollen black eye didn’t help his credibility.

  “Oh? Is there a problem with it, sir?”

  He shook his head. “No, the ring is fine. But the engagement is off, so I’d like to return it.”

  “Oh, dear. I’m sorry to hear that, sir.” The man took the ring from him and inspected it carefully with his loupe, as though he thought it had been damaged or replaced with a zircon.

  With a sniff, the jeweler gave him a little smile and reluctantly agreed to return the cash deposit, and to credit his Visa card for the remainder that had been charged.

  “Fine,” he agreed, relief surging in his gut.

  “The other ring you left to be repaired is ready, Mr. Latham,” the jeweler said, as he prepared a receipt.

  “What other ring?” He eyed the man.

  “I have it right here. Ah, yes, here it is. “The jeweler pulled an envelope from a drawer and opened it to show him an antique ring. It had a square cut emerald in a gold setting.

  He recognized the emerald ring as belonging to his grandmother. He remembered her wearing it! Another piece of his memory! But he felt sad as he also remembered that she’d died a long time ago. She’d been quite a lady.

  “Oh, yes, of course. Just subtract the repair cost from the refund,” he said, taking the ring and pocketing it.

  At least he was remembering some things. He accepted the refund balance from the jeweler and went back outside to the waiting cab. Feeling exhausted, he sank into the back seat and gave the driver the address of his apartment. As they neared his apartment, he noticed a convenience store on the corner. Good. He could easily walk to it to get basic food and supplies until he got a car and could drive again.

  Good, he thought, returning to his apartment. He had cash for daily expenses, until he got his next payroll check. It was a temporary solution, but made him feel better, at least. One day at a time.

  His head was pounding again. He reluctantly found the ice pack again, took more aspirin and went to bed for some much needed rest.

  ~ * ~

  At the Latham Building Supply headquarters in Chicago, Lester Latham rang for his secretary. Miss Livingston answered immediately, her voice slightly nasal. Her allergies must be acting up again. He remembered spring was high pollen season.

  “Any report from Kirk in Minneapolis yet?”

  “Nothing, sir. There’s been no word from him, Mr. Latham. Not since that message the day he left.”

  “Maybe he hasn’t left yet. Did you try his apartment again?”

  “Yes, several times. There’s been no answer.”

  “How about his cell phone? He always carries that.”

  “I tried several times and just got his voice mail. Either the battery is dead or he’s got it turned off. I left a message on his voice mail for him to call you ASAP. He’ll get that whenever he checks in again.”

  “Thanks.” Lester punched the off button on the intercom and sat back in his leather chair. He called the Minneapolis office, but Kirk hadn’t arrived there.

  He sighed. Kirk’s message had said he’d take the job after all. So, why didn’t he report in regularly like he usually did? Had something gone wrong? Or had he changed his mind again and gone on vacation?

  No, Kirk wouldn’t do that without telling him. And what was this deal with Ken and amnesia? Was it on the level? Or was Ken faking it as another ploy to avoid doing his reports?

  Damn it, he needed to talk to Kirk. There was no phone at the family cabin, either. Everyone took their cell phones when they went there, so there was no need to pay a monthly bill for a land line. Besides, except for Ken, almost no one had gone there in ages.

  Lester pulled another expensive cigar out of the humidor on his desk, bit off the end and lit it. Fragrant smoke filled the room as he puffed it. He leaned back in his leather chair and stared out the window while he considered his options.

  Should he fly out there? But how could he tell if Ken was faking if his doctor and Rosie couldn’t?

  Or should he ask someone to see if Kirk was at the cabin? No, he couldn’t ask anyone in the Latham store to do it without raising suspicions and he didn’t know anyone else in that area.

  He’d have to ask one of the private investigators he used to check out the cabin. He pulled out his file of business cards, found the number and made the call.

  ~ * ~

  After leaving Ken’s apartment, Rosie stopped at her house to change into clean clothes and let Scamp out for a run. She carefully touched up her make-up and then drove on to her office. A couple of hours of paperwork would take her mind off of Ken and her sudden, disturbing attraction to the man.

  The store was humming with customers as she walked through the main sales floor and climbed the back stairs to the office area above it.

  As she neared the top, Janice, one of the check-out clerks, hurried down, her face flushed. “Trouble,” she mouthed and disappeared.

  Rosie could hear Karen, her and Ken’s receptionist, arguing loudly with a man. She sounded frustrated and so did he. Karen was a tall, thin gal, a bit young and flighty, but usually competent enough. Now her long dark hair was mussed and her face held a frown as she argued.

  “Hi,” Rosie called cheerfully, trying to lessen the tension in the air. She recognized the large, florid-faced man arguing with Karen as Harold Anders, the field representative of one of their regular suppliers.

  “Hello, Mr. Anders,” she said calmly.

  “Hello, Rosie. “ Mr. Anders greeted her with a curt nod, obviously upset.

  “Boy, am I glad to see you,” Karen said, relief evident on her pretty face. “We have a problem here. We got shorted half our last order.”

  “Oh? Where’s Harry? Shouldn’t he be dealing with this?”

  “He’s down on the loading dock, calming down a couple of the local home builders.”

  “I see.” Rosie turned to the rep and asked quietly, “Why were we shorted on our order?”

  The big man’s face grew even darker. “It’s nothing we could help, Rosie. It’s because of all that spring flooding along the Mississippi River down south.”

  “Oh, of course.” She’d heard about that on the news. Lots of buildings had been damaged by floodwaters and would need repairs before the people could return to their homes. And the destroyed homes would have to be rebuilt as soon as possible. She should have known that disaster would affect Latham, too.

  “I know it’ll cause problems for you, but we had to give priority to orders from the disaster areas. We hope to be able to fill all the regular orders soon.”

  “Of course, Mr. Anders. The builders will have to wait their turn.”

  Karen sank into the chair behind her desk. “Harry says they’re threatening to take their business elsewhere.”

  Rosie chuckled ruefully. “I’m sure that’s just bluster. Besides, they’ll find the same situation at the other stores as soon as the supplies they had on hand are exhausted.”

  “Thanks for understanding, Rosie. We’ll get you more product just as soon as we can. In the meantime, we put everything we couldn’t bring you today on backorder for you, so you’re first on the list to get it.”

  “Thanks. We appreciate that.”

  Mr. Anders shook her hand and quickly took his leave.

  “Are there any other problems?” Rosie asked.

  Karen shook her head. “Nothing major. I transferred a couple of callers with complaints to the customer service desk down on the floor.”

  Rosie nodded. “I’m sure they’ll take care of those. Any word from headquarters? Did the computer expert they said they were sending us show up?”

  “Lester Latham’s secretary called asking if our quarterly reports were ready yet. I said no and reminded her we were short-handed because of Ken’s mugging. Then she wanted to talk to somebody named Kirk. When I said there was no one here by that name, she said to have him call headquarters as soon as he arrived. Isn’t that the same mess
age Lester left you this morning? Who’s this Kirk?”

  Rosie’s brow wrinkled in concentration. “Yes. Kirk? I suppose he’s the computer guy headquarters was supposed to be sending us?”

  “Probably. I don’t know anyone named Kirk.”

  “Well, if he’s the computer expert they sent, I’m sure he’ll arrive tomorrow then. Bring me some coffee and the mail. And see if you can find me a couple of aspirin.”

  Rosie stepped into her office and sank into her chair, rubbing her temples. What was she going to do? She’d never done the quarterly reports. Ken always insisted on doing them himself. Now, between helping Ken get situated again and her own daily job of balancing the cash registers and making the bank deposits and daily reports, she didn’t have time to take on another big job. And she’d have to pay the bills until Ken was able to again, too, she realized. She’d have to let Lester’s computer expert handle the quarterly reports headquarters wanted. If Lester had sent him to handle the problem, she was sure he’d be able to.

  Karen appeared almost immediately with her favorite ceramic mug of coffee. She laid the mail on the side of Rosie’s desk and handed her two aspirin.

  “Thanks.” Rosie gratefully took the cup and downed the aspirin. The coffee was hot, but she sipped it anyway to wash down the pills.

  Karen’s brown eyes widened. “Are you okay? I mean … well, your manicure’s a mess, you’ve broken a nail, and you’re not wearing your engagement ring,” she exclaimed, her cheeks turning red. “It’s none of my business, of course….”

  Rosie looked down at her hands ruefully, and gave Karen a little smile. “It’s all right. I told you about the burglary in Ken’s apartment. I must have broken the nail when I helped him clean it up.”

  “Oh, so that’s where you were today?” Karen sounded annoyed and jealous.

  Her attitude irritated Rosie. She’d been engaged to Ken. Why shouldn’t she go to his apartment? She sipped more of the hot coffee while she counted to ten. “Yes. Ken is still quite weak from the attack, as you might expect. Most of his stuff was broken or destroyed and had to be put into the trash.