Double Down

by De Leo, Vicky

  When I stopped sobbing, with his arm still wrapped around me, he dug in his pocket for a handkerchief and gently wiped my eyes. He looked deep in my eyes and said, “Damn, I was afraid this would happen.”

  If he had slapped me or drenched me with cold water, he couldn’t have brought me to my senses any more effectively. Embarrassed I pushed away from him and said, “I’m sorry for that. I’m fine now.”

  He started to say something, but before he could, his phone rang.

  When he reached for it, I turned away and ran down the steps. I dug my phone out of my purse, and called Charlene, briefly describing the situation and asking her to come get me. Not able to bear going back inside, I went and sat in my car to wait.

  Delgado slipped inside the house for a moment, and then came out and squatted down beside the open car door. “Are you sure you’re all right?” His voice soft and kind, I could see the sympathy in his eyes.

  Not trusting my voice, I just nodded.

  Using that same soothing tone I was sure he used with all hysterical women, he said, “Do you have any idea what they were looking for?”

  I squeaked out, “No.” I fought for control. I would not cry again. It was just a house. No one was hurt. After a moment I asked, “This wasn’t random vandalism was it?”

  He shook his head. “No. Someone was definitely looking for something. Have you received any strange letters or packages in the last few days?”

  The question took me by surprise. The mail slot was in the front door. I thought back to the mess just inside. All the mail delivered that day had been ripped open and left on the floor. Amongst all the other mess, I hadn’t really noticed until he brought it to my attention. “Just the regular bills and magazines, nothing unusual, why?”

  “Just a thought. Who knew you wouldn’t be home tonight?”

  “Everyone at the office. My brother is in from out of town. It wasn’t a secret that I was going to my Mom’s for dinner.”

  I couldn’t see really his face in the dark, but I thought he smiled. Then his voice took on an edge. “You can’t stay here tonight.” It was a command.

  I don’t like being told what to do. I bristled. “It’s my house. I can do any damned thing I want.”

  He took a breath, but before he could say anything, I shivered. He reached out to me.

  I pulled away. The last thing I wanted was his sympathy. I wanted to crawl into his arms and feel safe and protected. Those few minutes in his arms made me realize I wanted a whole lot more from him than sympathy. The very thing he didn’t want. I tried to pluck up enough courage to show him I didn’t need or want him. Except no matter how much I wanted to, I just couldn’t go back inside.

  Charlene saved me from having to admit defeat by showing up. She was out of the car, running up to me almost before it rolled to a stop. That’s how I knew Evan must have insisted on driving.

  Delgado stood up and moved away as she rushed toward me.

  While she gathered me in a hug, Evan got out and walked over to speak to Delgado.

  The two men couldn’t have been more different. Evan’s head only reached just above Delgado’s shoulder. With his slight build, hawk nose, and close cropped wiry, brown hair, next to Delgado he looked like a gnome. Still, it didn’t surprise me a beauty like Charlene found him sexy and attractive. He’d been my divorce lawyer and the one who held my hand during some of the worst moments of my life. He’d become a friend, one that I knew would fight to protect me. If Charlene hadn’t already been married to him, I might have been tempted myself.

  Seeing these two men together, as different as they were, there was something about the way Delgado stood—feet apart, hands in his pockets, jaw set—that reminded me of Evan. They moved far enough away so that I couldn’t hear their conversation.

  I probably couldn’t have heard it anyway over Charlene’s excited chatter. “Are you all right? You poor thing, you’re freezing.”

  There was no way I could be freezing since it was at least 80 degrees out, but I couldn’t stop shaking. She yelled at Evan to get me blanket. He walked back to the trunk of their car, drew out a blanket, helped her wrap me up in it, and then put me in the back seat of their car. I remember wondering why anyone who lived in Vegas would keep a blanket in the trunk of their car. After a brief discussion with Delgado, Charlene went inside and came out a few minutes later with my overnight bag. She and Evan climbed into the front seat and we left.

  I leaned my head back. I must have fallen asleep, because I don’t remember the ride to her house. They lived in one of the gated communities on the west side of town at the foot of the mountains. It was a sprawling ranch style house with at least five bedrooms. Only the lights in the living room were on so I assumed that their teenagers, Lincoln and Patty were either still out or in bed. Charlene installed me in the guest room, helped me undress, and tucked me into bed. I laid there for a while, hoping I could go to sleep and forget the whole nightmare. Unfortunately, every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Monica’s body superimposed upon the wreckage of my house. I could hear Charlene and Evan talking quietly in another room, so I got up and went exploring. They were in the kitchen sipping coffee.

  Charlene saw me in the doorway. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Now that I’m over the initial shock, I can’t sleep. I keep wondering why.”

  I pulled up a barstool next to Evan. He put his arm around me and gave me a quick hug.

  I’d met Charlene after one particularly grueling deposition with my husband’s attorney. Evan refused to let me go home and lick my wounds, insisting on taking me to dinner. He’d called Charlene to join us and we became fast friends. When she learned I had an opening for a secretary, she’d applied for the job. I’d snapped her up, probably the best decision I ever made.

  Charlene knows I don’t drink coffee, so she offered me some hot chocolate instead. With my hands wrapped around the steaming cup, I turned to Evan. “What did Delgado have to say? Why was he even there?”

  “He didn’t say much. He was at the station when the call came in. Mostly he wanted to make sure you weren’t left alone there. I think he’s worried about you.”

  I sneered. “I bet. Probably just wanted to get rid of me.”

  Evan and Charlene exchanged a look. He went on, “We’re worried about you too. Someone wanted something they thought you had. Probably something they think Monica gave you, since both her apartment and office were searched first.”

  “I thought of that, but she never gave me anything.”

  “That won’t stop them from coming after you if they think you have it.” He was using his serious lawyer voice to emphasize his point.

  “What were they looking for? That’s the real question. If I knew what they think I have, maybe I could figure out where it might be and why they think I have it. The husband thought she got a settlement from the senator, but more than likely Monica would have spent that by now.”

  Evan said, “You’re right. Therefore, it’s not money. What else could it be?”

  “We know they spent the money from the burglary, but they also had jewelry. Maybe they were looking for that. Even if it was something like that, why would she give it to me?” I could no longer think. The events of the day were catching up with me. Charlene saw me stifling a yawn and called a halt to the discussion. I went back to bed and this time I slept.

  It was late morning when I woke up. Shafts of sunlight cut through blinds I’d forgotten to close. After showering, I picked out slacks and a blouse from the clothes that Charlene had packed for me the night before. I wandered into the kitchen where she sat at the counter, crossing things off a list in front of her. Her house was neat and clean. All the breakfast dishes, if there were any, were out of sight. She was already dressed with her hair and makeup done. I was barely awake, and even though she’d had less sleep than I did, she’d obviously been up for while. Even at work, I marveled at how much she always managed to get done. The epitome of organiza
tion, it continued to amaze me that we were friends, because I am nothing like her. She poured me a glass of orange juice.

  “What can I make you for breakfast?”

  I don’t normally eat breakfast. Today, my stomach rebelled at the very idea. “This is fine. I’m not hungry.” The house was silent. “Where are Evan and the kids?”

  “Evan is playing golf. Lincoln went to football practice and Patty stayed overnight with a friend.” She tapped her pencil on the list she’d been making. “I hope you don’t mind I’ve arranged for a team to clean up your house. I’m assuming you want them to take the living room furniture and have it reupholstered rather than buy a new set?” It was just like Charlene to take care of anything she knew I might find unpleasant.

  When I nodded, she rolled her eyes. “I’ll never understand why you hate shopping so much. Women are born to shop.”

  “Maybe I’m missing some female genes. As far as I’m concerned it’s just another chore.”

  “Didn’t you and your girlfriends ever spend a day at the mall hunting for the perfect dress?”

  “Yes, and I thought it was the most boring day of my life, waiting around while someone else tries on half the store.”

  “I give up. You’re hopeless.”

  I sighed. “Do you know a good reupholster?” She nodded. “Just have him pick out a fabric that is as close to what I had as possible. What about the bedroom? I didn’t go in there. Do I need a new bed?”

  Charlene had seen it when she went in to pack up my clothes. “They pulled the mattress off the box springs, but I didn’t see any damage. You will need new pillows.”

  When I said I planned to go into work, she offered to pick up new lamps and pillows for me. She drove me back to my place.

  I sat in the car outside the house, dreading going back inside, and seeing the destruction. I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if I’d come home sooner. The cleaners Charlene had called drove up and she got out to greet them. I decided having them there gave me a good excuse not to go in. On the way to my car, I waved to her.

  She held up a hand to stop me. “Not so fast. I want you to promise you’ll keep all the office doors locked, not let anyone in, and have any meetings in someone else’s office, preferably with the door open and lots of people around.”

  “I promise I’ll be careful.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  Chapter Six

  I hesitated just inside the door of the HR office sniffing the air. From where I was standing, I couldn’t smell anything and it looked as if the hazmat team had finished. Steeling myself, I opened the door to my office. The awful smell was gone, replaced by the scent of carpet glue and disinfectant. The new carpeting looked exactly like the old carpeting, industrial brown. They’d scrubbed every surface clean. My family pictures, lying flat on my desk minus their smashed frames, were the only reminder left of the murder. Everything else appeared normal.

  Charlene must have come in and worked, because my inbox overflowed with mail and paperwork. I sorted through the pile and pulled out personnel action forms that just needed a signature. I laid aside a raise for one of the marketing managers that was over the limit the executive team had set for that year. There was always at least one department head who thought their people should be exempt. There are procedures in place to reward someone whose work was outstanding and deserved more. I knew this person’s efforts didn’t qualify, and figured that’s why the department head tried to sneak it through. I called the marketing director and told him that I couldn’t sign it.

  He screamed, “You have to sign it. I already promised him.”

  “Then you’ll have to unpromise it.” Some time ago I’d found a foolproof way to cut short arguments with executives. Since I wasn’t in the mood to continue arguing, I used it. “If you feel confident that you can justify this raise, why don’t we could both go to Tony and each explain our point of view and let him decide?” We both knew what Tony would say.

  He said, “Fine. Tear it up. I’ll revise it and send you a new one.” Then he slammed down the phone.

  My job was to make sure everyone followed the rules, executives, as well as employees. It didn’t always make me popular. However, I felt lucky. Not every HR director had the backing of their general manager the way I did.

  I needed a break, so I decided to walk through the casino. I make a habit of dropping by each of the departments periodically, especially if I‘m here on a weekend. Sometimes employees or supervisors will stop me and ask a question that they might not otherwise. It’s my way of making the HR office more approachable.

  No matter where you go in the hotel, you have to go through the casino and there’s never a direct route through for the same reason the milk and bread are always at the back of a supermarket, to encourage impulse buying or in this case impulse playing. And it’s a noisy place on purpose. In the past, the noise of dropping coins created a sense of excitement and expectation of a jackpot. Now with new technology, all the slot machines pay out tickets, so the manufacturers built in music and sound effects to create the same excitement. To the employees the effect was still the same, noisy and annoying if you had to listen to it every day. In order to keep your sanity, you learned to tune it out.

  The place was packed with people. Weaving my way through banks of slot machines, I nodded at slot supervisors paying off jackpots and cocktail waitresses in skimpy costumes and high heels carrying loaded down drink trays. The pit, or section of table games, was usually located somewhere in the center of the casino.

  When I spotted the casino manager sitting alone at an empty blackjack table watching the games, I pulled up a stool next to him.

  “Hi Lou. How’s it going?”

  “Not bad for a Saturday. I’ve put that new blackjack dealer we hired on table three. She’s really good with the guests. I’ve watched her win every hand for the last half hour, and yet her table’s still full and everyone seems to be having a good time.” He leaned back with a smile on his face. “Any leads on your murder?”

  “Nothing yet. What did you think of Monica?”

  His eyes strayed back to the games. “I never met her.”

  This was the man Monica should have talked to, instead of Arnie. Yet I knew Lou and he didn’t lie. For someone who considered herself a great judge of character, I certainly missed the mark with Monica. I’d just assumed that since she’d held the same job at another property that she didn’t need training or any meaningful supervision. Knowing it was too late to worry about it now, I forced myself to focus on the present. “What kind of a supervisor is Arnie Waters?” I didn’t say anything about the sexual harassment claim, wanting to get an unbiased view first.

  He turned and looked at me. “Why? Has someone complained about him?”

  “No. Monica met with someone whose initials are AW the week before she died. I don’t know if that meant Arnie or not. I just wondered if he was having any problems.”

  His eyes wandered back to the games. “He hasn’t come to me with anything.” When I stayed silent, he sighed and faced me. “Arnie is really old school. I don’t think he would go to HR with a problem. He liked it better in the good old days when you could threaten to take a problem employee out back and beat the crap out of him.”

  “That’s why your first question was to ask me if anyone complained about him.”

  He nodded. When he turned back to watch the games, I slid off the stool and headed to the employee cafeteria for a Coke. Half way down the back stairs, someone yelled at me.

  “Hey you!”

  I turned around and stopped dead. Arnie Waters ran down the steps behind me. I recognized him from some of the mandatory supervisor classes. Older and out of shape, he was puffing slightly. He ran a hand through thinning brown hair. I remembered him as true chauvinist, always a smart remark said with a leer.

  “You the boss of that gal that got murdered in Personnel?” He stopped one step above me.

  “Yes.�
�

  “Why ya talking to my boss?” Shorter than me, he stayed on the step above me, leaving him at eye level. He leaned in so his face was close to mine and gave me an intimidating glare.

  I leaned away, but stayed where I was, looking him in the eyes, and resisting the urge to back down a step. The staircase was empty. It occurred to me that I could be looking into the eyes of a murderer. One good push and I could easily break my neck falling down the rest of the steps. No witnesses, no one to say it wasn’t an accident. The smart plan would be to turn and run. Instead, heart pounding, I stood my ground and said, “Why is that any of your business?”

  He pointed his finger at me and said, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of my business and keep your mouth shut.”

  Such charm. This guy was really beginning to grow on me. “Or what?” Anger had edged out any sense of self-preservation, so much for being careful.

  “Or maybe you’ll get the same thing she got,” he said.

  I gasped, but didn’t move.

  Apparently thinking he’d made his point, he threw me a malevolent look before he turned and raced up the stairs.

  Now that the imminent threat was gone, my brain kicked in and I felt slightly dizzy. I held on to the banister, and slowly descended the stairs. Walking down the hallway to the cafeteria, I thought, “Now what do I do? Arnie Waters just threatened me.” I couldn’t even write him up for it because I couldn’t prove it. It would be my word against his. Was he really a murderer, or just a bully who liked threatening people? If he did kill Monica, why? Had she threatened to talk to his boss about the harassment claim?

  I got a Coke and sat down at a table. The lunch crowd was gone. Four or five dealers on a break sat at one of the tables playing hearts. That always amazed me. You’d think they wouldn’t even want to touch a deck of cards after dealing for several hours. I knew I should get something to eat, but my stomach was still churning. I sipped on my drink and stared off into space, trying to make some sense of what just happened.