“Marcia testified against Jimmy, claiming he’d threatened to kill her if she didn‘t help. She got off with probation. He figured she probably blackmailed the senator into arranging the plea deal. While he was in jail, she divorced Jimmy and changed her name.”
“Were you able to get in touch with her mother?” I asked.
“Yes, the St. Louis police have done the notification. She wanted to know if Marcia left her any money.”
“What a sad life.” I said shaking my head. I felt bad that I hadn’t done more to get to know her. It didn’t excuse what she had done to Rose, but it did go a little way toward explaining it. “Did you get a chance to question Darryl?” My dislike for Darryl was so intense that I was never able to say his name without it coming out like a sneer.
From the look Delgado gave me, he didn’t miss the nuance. “No more than you expected. He claims he doesn’t remember her at all.”
Thinking aloud, I said, “So we’re back to square one. The only thing we know is that whoever wanted her dead was also looking for something. I still keep coming back to why was she killed in my office and how did she get in?”
Delgado sat up straight and glared at me. “Listen, let me make this clear. This is my investigation. I don’t need any amateurs getting involved. I came over tonight to let you know that, now that it seems it wasn’t the husband, we need to reexamine her files. I’ve gone over her calendar but it doesn’t mean much to me. She only listed initials for appointments. I want to see if I can reconstruct her last week—who she met with, etc. I need your help matching names to the initials. I’ll be in your office at nine tomorrow.” He shoved back his chair and got up.
Alan walked him to the door, then came back to say they had decided to have a couple of beers together and he would see me tomorrow.
If Alan thought that Delgado would be more willing to talk surrounded by good old boys drinking and slapping each other on the back, I had the feeling he was wasting his time. Frankly, glad they left, and tired again, I cleaned up the mess and went back to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I just kept thinking about Monica. Probably should call her Marcia, but I couldn’t think of her that way. To me she would always be Monica. I hadn’t bothered to try to get to know her, assuming I had plenty of time. Caught up in meetings, I missed stuff going on right under my nose in my own office. While I might not be responsible for her death, it was my fault my employees were subject to her manipulations. Delgado may not want my help, but he was going to get it whether he liked it or not. I would not sit idly by again.
Chapter Four
The next morning, I arrived at the Human Resources office about eight-thirty. The hazmat team was already there pulling the bloody carpet out of my office, and beginning the clean up. I looked away quickly and went to Monica’s office. With a clear head, it didn’t take long to separate out the old completed files, which I placed back in the filing cabinet. That left about ten files. Four of them were union grievances she’d already answered. I set those aside until we heard whether the union wanted to pursue them. Two more grievances looked unanswered, so I went to work on those.
The rest of my staff arrived. My insurance coordinator came in to discuss a couple of leave of absences.
Charlene poked her head in. “Hi, I don’t show any meetings on your schedule today. Scott’s here with that cashier we fired last week. He says he had an appointment with Monica this morning to discuss it. Do you want to see him, or should I reschedule?”
Scot was the culinary union representative. When we got a tip that this cashier had been stealing money for some time, security set up a camera, and we caught her red handed on video. I couldn’t imagine what kind of a defense Scott would mount for her, or why Monica had even been willing to discuss it. Still, it couldn’t take long. “Give me a few minutes and then send him in. I have an appointment with Detective Delgado at nine, so don’t schedule me anything for the rest of this morning, but after that I should be available all afternoon.”
Scott and the cashier came in and took their seats. I waited for him to begin.
“I heard about Monica. I’m sorry. I know this is probably a difficult time for everyone, but we need to clear this up so Kathy here can get back to work.”
Hopefully, my face didn’t show the extent of my surprise. How could he think we’d even consider reinstating her? “I’m sorry, Scott. I don’t think that’s going to be possible. Maybe you haven’t seen the video. We have clear evidence that Kathy stole money from the cash drawer.”
“It was only fifty cents.”
“What difference does that make?”
“It doesn’t seem fair for someone to lose their job over a measly fifty cents.”
“First, fifty cents is all we caught her stealing. Second, how much does it have to be? Is a dollar enough, five dollars, ten dollars? Where do you draw the line? There’s no position in the resort that doesn’t require complete trust and honesty. Where do you suggest I place a known thief? Certainly not back anywhere near a cash drawer.”
“I can’t believe you’re taking such a hard line. When I talked with Monica, she assured me that we could reach some kind of a compromise.”
“I’m sorry she misled you, but our decision is final.”
Scott escorted Kathy out, and I was left wondering how Monica would have handled the meeting. Especially now that I knew, she too was a thief. Up until now, I’d considered myself a good judge of character, at least in my professional capacity. How had I messed up so badly with Monica? Not wanting to dwell on those thoughts, I phoned Rose to bring me the latest list of job openings.
When she came in, she looked tired, her dark eyes red-rimmed and shadowed. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed before that she’d lost weight. Normally slightly overweight after having three kids, her clothes now hung on her. This morning, she wore no make-up, and had pulled her dark, shoulder-length hair into a limp and lifeless ponytail.
I asked her to come in, and close the door. “How are you doing?”
She started to tear up, but managed to keep her composure. “I’m fine.”
I leaned forward and patted her hand. “I hear Monica gave you a hard time. I‘m really sorry I wasn't here for you.”
“There wasn’t anything you could have done.”
“Yes, I could have fired her ass.”
That got me a small laugh. “You would have, wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat. I really didn‘t know that she was that awful.”
Her smile faded. “Well it looks like someone took care of that permanently for both of us.”
“I’m sorry. I have to ask. You don’t really believe that Danny had anything to do with that, do you?”
Bitterness crept into her voice. “I don’t know what to believe. I didn’t believe he would cheat on me in my own bed, so how can I trust my instincts?”
“Have you talked to him at all?”
She shook her head. “Ever since Monica kicked him out, he’s been calling me, but I’ve refused to take his calls. I know he is just looking for a place to live. I don’t want to hear anything he has to say at this point.”
“Did you tell the detective about him and Monica?”
“Yes, he asked how Monica and I got along. Oh, Val, it all just came pouring out. Now I feel guilty.”
“There’s no reason to feel guilty. You had to tell the truth. It was bound to come out. It’s better coming from you than for him to hear it from someone else.” I was selfishly glad. Now I wouldn’t have to tell him.
Rose made her escape when Charlene transferred a call from Tony’s secretary, who said Tony had just come in and wanted to see Alan and me. Delgado hadn’t showed up yet, so I hurried upstairs to the executive office. On the way, I thought about Rose and Danny. Could either of them have killed Monica? Rose certainly had a motive to hate her. I couldn’t picture Rose shooting, stabbing, or poisoning anyone, but someone simply shoved Monica hard enough that she fell and hit her head. From what I’d learned,
it appeared that Monica was an expert at goading. She could have pushed Rose to the breaking point. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t cross Rose off the suspect list. I considered Danny another case entirely. After what he did to Rose, he deserved to be on the list. I could easily picture him striking out in anger. After risking his home and family to sleep with Monica, she tossed him out for another man. I also included Darryl. Probably just wishful thinking, but he had lied to the police. Monica was not a woman any man would forget.
Alan sat the outer office waiting for Tony to get off the phone with corporate.
I mouthed hello to the secretary, also on the phone, and sat down next to Alan. “Well, did Delgado tell you anything more?” I whispered.
“No. I think he only went because he wanted to know what was going on between us.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you and I were having a torrid love affair.”
“You didn’t!” I gasped and hit him on the arm. The secretary looked over and I smiled.
He laughed. “No. I told him that you were so prudish that you refused to allow anyone to touch you”
This time I laughed. “You didn’t talk about me at all did you?”
He grinned. “No, he had one beer and left. I just wanted to see your reaction.” The smile disappeared and he put his hand over mine. He might have said more, but the secretary told us Tony was ready to see us.
Tony Augustino, in his fifties, average height, husky but not fat, exuded power. He skewered us with serious brown eyes and motioned for us to take a seat. Generally, I liked him because you always knew where you stood with him. He believed in treating the customer and the employees with dignity. In spite of that, he wasn’t an easy boss. The status quo was never good enough. He expected his executives to be on top of things. He hadn’t been happy when we reported that corporate security hadn’t done a background check on Monica. I wasn’t looking forward to telling him how little I knew about her. Alan told him about Monica’s burglary, name change, and the arrest of her ex-husband in St. Louis. When I told him about her affair with Rose’s husband, I felt Alan look at me. I’d forgotten that I hadn’t told him.
Tony glared at me. “So the murderer could be one of our employees?” I knew he was thinking of the negative publicity that an on-going investigation would generate. It would be even worse if the murderer turned out to be an employee.
“It could also be someone from St. Louis,” suggested Alan.
“You better hope so.” With those parting words, he dismissed us.
Just as we were leaving, Alan got a call from security so he hurried back to his office. When I got back to Human Resources, Delgado sat sprawled in a chair in front of Charlene’s desk. He hadn’t seen me yet, so I stood still and watched him. Dressed casually in a short sleeved, dark green polo shirt tucked into khaki slacks, he looked relaxed with one leg crossed over the other. A tan and green tweed sports coat draped over the back of the chair. It made me wonder about the Armani suit that he’d worn the first night. Evidently, it wasn’t his regular office attire. Maybe he had been out on a date when he got the call. With Charlene, he was talkative and even animated, none of the sullen animosity he’d shown me. A totally irrational twinge of jealousy caught me off guard. It intensified when he threw back his head and laughed at something Charlene said. He had a beautiful deep, full-throated laugh that made you want to laugh with him. The best I’d ever gotten was a crooked almost-smile.
Fuming over my inability to make any kind of a connection with him, I marched in and blurted out, “I assume you’re waiting for me?”
All amusement left his face as he rose to follow me to Monica’s office.
Nice going, I thought. Now he can add shrew to the list of reasons he hates you. When we reached my office, I sat down behind the desk.
He sat down in the chair beside the desk and handed me Monica’s calendar. “I want to re-create her final week as far as possible.”
I flipped through the pages. “The initials for these first few appointments are for supervisors she consulted to answer some union grievances.” I wrote down the names and departments. The SM of C is probably Scott from the Culinary Union.” I added his name to the list. “This appointment with JM from the T has to be Jerry McCrea from the Teamsters’ union, except that makes no sense. I’ve been in negotiations with the Teamsters for the last couple of weeks. Jerry should have brought any issues that came up directly to the negotiation table. Even if he tried an end run around me, Monica should have notified me immediately. According to this, she met with him three days before I wrapped up the negotiations.”
Since he didn’t comment, I handed him the list I’d made, and promised to research the others I didn’t recognize. As he started to get up and leave, I stopped him. I wanted to apologize for my earlier rudeness, but since I couldn‘t very well explain it, I simply said, “Are Rose and Danny still on your list of suspects?”
He sat back down. “Everyone is still on my list.”
“Including me?”
He smiled that crooked little half smile and my heartbeat accelerated. “No your mother verified your alibi.”
“You spoke to my mother?” I was astounded, not because he called her, but because she hadn’t called me immediately afterward. “I can’t believe she didn’t freak out when she heard about the murder in my office.”
He raised one eyebrow. “I doubt the officer who spoke with her gave her that information.”
So he hadn’t talked to her directly. Still any inquiry from the police about me should have set her off. Charlene must be shielding me. He stood up and so did I. “I’ll call you when I identify the other names.” He nodded. In spite of the fact that he’d said very little, he seemed as hesitant to leave, as I was to let him go. Finally, I held out my hand to shake his. When his skin touched mine, I felt a jolt. My heart went into overdrive and I couldn’t breathe for a second. I looked up to see if he felt it too.
His eyes widened and then he looked down, dark lashes masking any other reaction. He released my hand, mumbled goodbye, and left.
I stood there rubbing my still tingling hand, wondering what just happened. Did he feel what I felt, or was he just surprised at my reaction?
Okay, maybe my mother was right. Obviously, I did need more of a social life, when shaking a man’s hand was all it took to ratchet up my blood pressure. Then again, I hadn’t had much sleep, so maybe I just needed a break. I called Linda Mann, the Slot Director and Angie Cho, the Hotel Director, arranging to meet them in our Mexican restaurant for lunch. On my way out, I stopped by Charlene’s desk to get my messages. “Has my mother called?”
“Only about six times. I explained that you were fine and would call her as soon as you were free. Please be free soon,” she begged. She looked up and raised her eyebrows as if to question my earlier behavior, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it, yet. Charlene knows me so well that she let it go. She handed me a group of phone messages and said, “Oh, and I made an appointment for you at 2:00 p.m. with a Gary Dillon. He isn’t an employee, but said it was urgent that he speak with you about the sexual harassment of one of our employees. He wouldn’t say anymore.”
I thanked her and told her I would call my mom before going to lunch. It wasn’t fair to Charlene to put it off. After I assured Mom several times that I was alive and well and not suspected of anything, she reminded me of dinner. I promised I would be there and tell her everything.
***
Linda and Angie were waiting for me in the restaurant. As the only other women on the executive committee, we’ve become good friends. They’re the ones I depend on to either give me a good ass kicking or moral support. I wasn’t sure which I’d get today. Angie was a tiny Asian woman, who never backed down from a fight. I’d watched with admiration as she took on the good old boys and earned their respect. She also had built in bullshit radar, so I especially wanted to get her take on Monica. Tony had promoted Linda to Slot Director against considerabl
e opposition from the good old boys who thought the gaming side of the business belonged to a man. She looks like a kewpie doll, all soft with a sweet voice. However, I’d seen her stand up to a six foot, 250-pound man and tell him, “I don’t care how it’s been done for the last twenty years, I’m doing it differently, and if you don’t like it, you can talk to the General Manager.”
Once we had ordered, they asked about the murder. I told them what I knew. “Apparently, everyone in my office hated her, but no one bothered to tell me.” Even I cringed when I heard the whine in my voice.
“Stop beating yourself up. It’s only been two months and she was good at covering herself. They would have come to you eventually.” That was Linda being kind. Angie nodded, but I knew she wouldn’t put up with my whining for long, so I moved on.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it. Anyway, how did she come across to you?”
Angie went first. “Since I sat in on the negotiations with you, I didn’t interact with her, but I can tell you my managers didn’t like her. When they asked a question about how to handle a situation, they never got a straight answer. Instead, she implied that as a favor to them, she could fix it so they could do whatever they wanted.”
Linda said she had the same experience. “My slot mechanic supervisor wanted to write up a slot technician for getting into a shoving match with the coin room guys during a drop. The supervisor and I went to Monica to ask how to write it up, and if we had sufficient documentation to back up the warning. She told us that she could speak to the coin room guys and make sure they wrote the documentation in such a way that no one would be able to question it.”
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