Frank immediately knew it was from Cool Hand Luke.
Dee and I gave up on trying to stump Frank, but Delgado, a vintage movie buff, got him with a couple of lines from some of the lesser-known Humphrey Bogart movies. Dee, with two boys at home, recognized lines from most of the newer adventure and horror movies. I had the upper hand with sci-fi. I had seen every Star Trek, Star Wars or space odyssey film ever made. I found out that Delgado and I both appreciated sophisticated comedies as opposed to slapstick.
After dessert, when Delgado caught me stifling a yawn, he called for the check. Dee offered to drive Frank home since it was on her way. I hoped that maybe this evening would lead to something for them. She deserved a good man in her life.
I fell asleep on the way back to the hotel, waking only when Delgado had parked the car and turned off the engine. He walked me to my room, kissed me goodnight outside the door, and virtuously went to his own room. Too tired to feel offended, I undressed and fell into bed. Our return flight wasn’t until noon, so I had plenty of time to pack and get ready the next morning.
***
Back in Vegas, Detective Long was waiting for us outside of baggage claim. He opened the trunk for our luggage and turned to Delgado. “I hope you’re rested because we just caught a new case, two men gunned down in the parking lot of the Sunrise Casino.”
“Tourists?”
“No. Kids. Probably in retaliation for that drive-by off Fremont last week. CSI is on the scene.”
They dropped me off at Mom’s on their way. Since Mom had a couple of her friends in for Sunday lunch, I said hello, packed up my belongings, hopped in the rental car, and went home.
It felt good to be home and alone. I have found over the years that while I love people, I need a certain amount of alone time. Living alone, I usually get more than I need. This last week between being in the hospital, and Delgado’s over protectiveness, I hadn’t been alone for more than a few minutes. I retrieved Saturday’s mail off the floor and dumped it with the other mail on the counter. After unpacking and throwing a load of laundry in the washer, I picked up the mail that had accumulated while I’d been gone. Separating the bills from the junk, I set aside the sales catalogs to look at later. I noticed the edge of a white sheet of paper sticking out between two of the catalogs. Thinking it was probably a flyer I drew it out to throw it away. It wasn’t a flyer. Someone had written me a message in letters cut out of a magazine:
YOU WON’T BE SO LUCKY
NEXT TIME.
I stared down at the words, wishing I knew when this had arrived. What had I done that had spooked someone? Was it before or after I left for St. Louis? On Friday night when I came home to pack, I’d scooped up all the mail on the floor of the living room and deposited it on the kitchen counter without looking at any of it. Someone could have shoved it through the mail slot any time last week.
I knew Delgado would want to know about this, but he was busy on a case. He didn’t need to be worrying about me. In addition, the threat wasn’t specific. I told myself there wasn’t really anything he could do. He’d already taken enough time off work lately because of me. I called and left a message for the officer in charge of Monica’s case. It would get back to Delgado eventually. Hopefully, I would see him and be able to tell him myself before that happened. Taking a plastic bag out of the drawer, I slipped the paper inside. If no one from the police department called me back, I would drop it off on my way to work in the morning.
Determined to put it out of my mind, I finished opening the mail, paid bills, and balanced the checkbook. Feeling good about getting those chores out of the way, I rewarded myself with a bubble bath and a good book. Before going to bed, I made sure I locked all the doors and windows.
Sometime during the night, I heard a noise. I lay in the dark listening. A scraping noise sounded like someone was on the patio. I slipped out of bed and crept down the hallway, trying desperately to think of what kind of a weapon I could use to defend myself. I don’t own a gun. I wasn’t planning to get close enough to use a knife. I opened the hall closet door and extracted the vacuum cleaner wand. Creeping up to the patio doors, I peeked out one of the curtains. It was too dark. I couldn’t see anything. Holding the wand over my head like a club, I flipped on the patio lights. Two cats jumped off the patio swing and raced over the back fence. Other than the cats, the patio was empty. I opened the sliding glass door. Pushing the swing, I realized the sound I heard was the swing bumping up against the wall of the house. Feeling foolish, and glad I hadn’t called the cops, I sure as heck wasn’t going to tell Delgado about this.
Crawling back into bed, I lay there thinking. I’m not normally a skittish woman. I’d never been afraid in my own home before. What was happening to me? I’d slept through thunderstorms and earthquakes. Now I was jumping at the slightest noise. Of course, I’d never had my house burgled or received threatening notes before either. Maybe it was time to check out some alarm systems.
The next morning, after I locked up, I walked around the house. I’m not sure what I was looking for, footprints or maybe crushed bushes. In spite of finding nothing, I inspected the ground around and underneath the car, no puddles, and no obvious bombs. I got in the car, cursing myself for being a paranoid idiot. Still, I drove very carefully, testing the brakes at every stop and listening for any unusual sound.
Chapter Thirteen
No one called from the police department, so I dropped my threatening letter off with the desk sergeant on duty. After being away from the office for a whole week, my desk was piled high. Mike had done what he could, but with two people short, everything that could be postponed, had been. Charlene had sorted the mess into piles, personnel action forms that needed signing in one, correspondence in another, then phone messages, and finally a pile labeled “when you get time.” Not quite ready to face any of the piles yet, I left my office and stopped by to talk to Mike. We discussed all the actions he had taken while I’d been out.
“Bob Marshall practically jumped for joy when I told him he could suspend Martin Sanders for lying on his application about his felony conviction.”
Bob was the food and beverage director. He and I had endured many of Martin’s tirades together. While Martin’s work was adequate, whatever shift he worked, he was like a small storm cloud raining unrest and depression everywhere he went. No one wanted to work with him.
“What did he tell him?”
“Just that he was suspended pending investigation, and that he needed to make an appointment to speak to you when you returned. I called the culinary union rep and gave him a head’s up late Friday. Bob wasn’t able to tell Martin until Saturday when the HR office was closed. I expect the minute we open the doors he’ll be charging in here demanding answers.”
“I’ll be ready for him.”
Back in my office, I called Alan and told him, "I'm expecting Martin Sanders. I plan to terminate him so could you send someone with a gun to stand by in case we need him?” In all my years in HR, I’d never felt afraid, but Martin scared me. I wasn’t at all sure that he was mentally stable.
I wasn’t surprised when Alan showed up a few minutes later. The office wasn‘t officially open yet, so we had a few minutes to talk. I knew that Mike had also called him Friday.
“How was St. Louis?” he asked.
Not sure whether he knew that Delgado had been with me, I kept it short. “I was just there representing the hotel for the funeral. The St. Louis police were able to confirm that Martin did serve time, so I’m going to terminate his employment for lying on his application. I don’t know how Martin will react, so I’m glad you’re here.”
He nodded and didn’t say anymore.
I hated that there was this strain between us. I racked my brain for some way to reestablish our friendship. “Did Mike tell you about the email in Monica’s computer?”
“The one where you are telling her to destroy evidence of the sexual harassment complaint?” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“I guess that answers my question.”
“Mike didn’t tell me either,” strong emphasis on either. “I had to hear it from Tony.” Not sarcasm, definite bitterness.
“I’m sorry. I guess I should have called and told you, but then I found out about the funeral. Next thing I know I’m on my way to St. Louis. Everything happened so fast. Do you want to hear what I learned about Monica there, or are you still too mad at me?”
“I’d like to be kept up to date on the investigation, if that’s not asking too much.”
Wow. Frosty. If he was this mad, I was surprised that he came himself to protect me, instead of sending one of his sergeants. “Let me make sure I cover everything. You know about the email and the newspaper clipping Monica had about Martin’s being in jail.” He nodded. “Did Tony tell you about the possibility that Monica blackmailed someone taking funds from the union?”
“Yes, what have the police found out about that?” He sat back and crossed his legs assuming the semi-relaxed posture that I had seen him use in interrogations many times.
I ignored it and tried to sound normal. “I don’t know. If they’ve questioned Jerry, I haven’t heard about it.”
He raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe me.
That‘s when I exploded, “Fine don’t believe me. I guess there’s no point in trying to have a normal conversation with you. Let me know when you get over this mad and you want to talk.” We sat glaring at one another.
Charlene walked in then and announced that Martin was here with his union representative asking to see me. I told her to show him in. I stood up when he entered, and asked him to have a seat. Although Martin was only about five feet six inches tall with a slight build, he strutted rather than walked, as if he owned the world. He didn’t look intimidating until you looked into his eyes. They were cold and flat. Scott, the union rep, followed Martin into the room. They both took the chairs in front of the desk. Alan sat down in one of the chairs against the wall next to the desk.
Martin started out calmly. “I was told that you ordered me to be suspended.”
“That’s correct,” I said. His personnel file was sitting on my desk. I flipped it open. “This is the application that you filled out when you came to work here. Can you verify that this is your signature?” I turned it around and slid it across the desk so he could see it.
He glanced at it and said, “Yes, that’s my signature.”
“And here where it asks ‘Have you ever been convicted of a crime’ you answered no.”
“So?” He was leaning back in the chair, his legs crossed. Busy examining his fingernails, he avoided looking at me.
“It has come to our attention you were convicted of a crime, and in fact, spent five years in prison for burglary.”
He looked up and shrugged. “That was a long time ago.”
“Back here where you put your signature, it states that you understand that you can be fired for making a false statement. Since you have admitted that you lied on your application, I have no choice but to terminate your employment.”
He jumped up. “You can’t fire me now. That was over three years ago. I’ve passed my probationary period.” Suddenly he sat down looking cocky. The change was so abrupt it was shocking. Calm again he said, “Since your background check didn’t turn this up during the first ninety days, it’s too late to do anything about it now.” He sat back in his chair with a slight smile on his face.
I matched his tone. “I’m afraid that lying on a document is grounds for termination whenever it’s discovered. There’s no time limit.”
He jumped up again and leaned over my desk. “You can’t talk to me like that! Do you know who I am? I’m president of the union! You can’t fire me!”
Alan stood up and so did the union representative. The union rep put his hand on Martin’s arm to restrain him, but Martin shook him off.
“You won’t get away with this! You wait and see. You’ll pay for this!” Martin was shaking his fist and screaming at me.
Alan wedged himself between Martin and my desk, looming over him and forcing Martin to back up. “Mr. Sanders, I think you better leave.”
They stood looking at one another for a few seconds, until the union rep grabbed Martin’s arm. Holding on tight this time, he half dragged Martin out the door. Alan followed them out. He came back a few minutes later. “I watched him get into a car and drive away. I told him that when he came back to process out, he would need to have a security escort. I’ve notified my men and surveillance to watch out for him.” He sat down and looked at me. “Are you okay?” The frost was gone. He seemed genuinely concerned.
“Actually it was about what I expected. I’m glad you were here.”
“I hope you weren’t planning on going off property for lunch?” When I shook my head, he said, “Good. Call me when you get ready to leave tonight and I’ll walk you to your car.”
“I wonder if he’s the one who sent me the threatening letter.”
He leaned forward. “What threatening letter?”
I showed him the copy I asked the police station to make for me.
“When did you get this?”
“I don’t know when it was sent. Someone shoved it through my mail slot. I found it last night when I got back from St. Louis.”
“Do the police know about this?”
I nodded. “I dropped the original by there this morning on my way to work.”
“What did Detective Delgado say?”
“He hasn’t seen it.”
That produced a slight smile that he immediately tried to suppress. “You better tell me the rest. What did you find out in St. Louis?”
I told him about what Dee and Stan said about Monica having pull with someone high up and that Connie had introduced Monica to Darryl. I also told him Mrs. Comb’s story. “The police never found any diaries. I think that’s what the killer was trying to find. We know she told Arnie Waters I was in on the blackmail. When her killer couldn’t find them in her apartment or in the office, he must have thought she’d given them to me.”
“It could also be Martin looking for that newspaper clipping, or Jerry McCrea looking for that accounts page.”
“True. Martin could easily have sent the threat and cut my brake lines, but I can’t see Monica letting him in the office after hours. She wasn’t that stupid.”
“You’re probably right, but I’m not taking any chances. Promise me that you won’t leave tonight until I can walk you to your car.” He got up and leaned over my desk, his blue eyes boring into mine.
What could I do? I promised. I spent the rest of the day trying to make a dent in the paperwork on my desk, and returning phone calls, not even leaving for lunch. Charlene brought me a sandwich from the cafeteria. She sat and watched while I ate, probably to make sure I took a break. I’d already briefed her on my trip when I called her from the St. Louis airport. She didn’t know about the letter, and I couldn’t see any point in telling her, but she’d witnessed the scene Martin made. While she wasn’t exactly hovering, I caught her watching me throughout the day. She called several alarm companies for me. No one could come out until later in the week. Mom called and checked up on me. The only one I didn’t hear from was Delgado.
Even Darryl Collins called. “Hey Val, welcome back. I heard about your accident. Are you sure you’re up to being back to work so soon?”
“I’m feeling fine. Thanks for asking.”
“I was really surprised when Tony told me you went to St. Louis to the funeral. It was nice of you to represent us. I really should have gone, but I had commitments I couldn’t change. How was it? Were there many people there?”
“It was nice. There were some employees from the St. Louis Royal there. Of course, Dee attended and friends and neighbors of Monica’s mother.”
“How’s the investigation going?”
“As far as I know there aren’t any new developments. Alan would probably know more than me.”
/> “Oh really, from what I hear you’re dating the lead detective.” When I didn’t say anything, he went on. “Under the circumstances, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. It could look like the hotel was trying to influence the investigation.”
“The case was reassigned to another detective. If there’s nothing else, I really need to run. I’m late for a meeting.” There was no meeting, but I really didn’t want to discuss my personal life with Darryl.
Alan showed up around five o’clock. When everyone started to leave for the day, he insisted that I leave too. He didn’t want me in the office by myself. I didn’t argue. It was my first day back since the accident. I was exhausted both emotionally and physically. He walked me to my rental car, checking all around it, and even getting in and starting it. Finally, he got out and motioned for me to get in the driver’s seat. “Please wait here until I get into my car. I want to follow you home.”
He was getting on my nerves. I almost snapped at him to stop fussing, until I looked at his face. It was a plea and not a command. “Whatever,” I said not very graciously. I waited while he got into his car. He drove behind me all the way home. As I pulled into my driveway, the phone rang. It was Alan asking that I let him check out the house before I went in. He pulled up and parked in front of the house. I rolled down my window when he walked up. Rolling my eyes, I handed him the keys. After a few minutes, he motioned for me to come in the house. I couldn’t help it. Looking both ways several times, I ran to the house, slammed the door, and leaned against it. Huffing and puffing loudly with wide eyes I looked at him and said, “Are you sure it’s safe?”
He rolled his eyes and I laughed.
He shook his head and smiled. “Nice. I’m trying to protect you and I get theatrics.”
Still laughing I said, “I’m sorry but it was just a little too cloak and dagger for me.” I moved away from the door heading for the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?”
He took his jacket off and threw it over the back of the loveseat. “How about we order some Chinese. I’m starving.”
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