1 Executive Lunch

by Maria E. Schneider

  Huntington nodded. "If we had been smart enough to arrest or fire Allen when we caught him with the charity checks, Autumn might have needed access to someone else with signature power. At the time, we were afraid that whoever was responsible would know the game was completely over if Allen got fired."

  "Autumn wouldn't have stopped no matter what," I said. "She is vindictive and mean. That's why she had her brother send in goons when Allen started skimming her share."

  Sean tapped his fingers on the table, his lawyer gaze studying each of us. Eventually he threw his hands up. "I'm going home now. The less I know about this situation, the less I'll have to tell mom and dad. Derrick?" He hurried into the living room, and then did an about-face and came back to the table. "I told Brenda I'd bring her some food if you had any."

  "There aren't any leftovers. You better stop at Albertson's and get some fried chicken or something," I suggested without sympathy.

  "You don't have any more of this pasta stuff that you can throw together?"

  I pointed to the door. "Out! Go to the store. Get some food for your wife and quit mooching off me!"

  He fled with Derrick at his heels. I was left with some papers to sign and two grinning male threats.

  Chapter 41

  I returned to the condo one last time to get the rest of my things. I didn't know Marilyn was there until I got inside. She was cleaning the place as usual. "Oh," I said. I looked around and wondered how to tell her that I wasn't going to be living there anymore. I couldn't keep paying her.

  She smiled. It was a shy smile, but it was a smile. "Don't worry. Mr. Huntington already told me that I've really been working for him all along. He said you were going home."

  I was hugely relieved. "He's going to keep you on? That's fabulous!"

  She nodded. "I put all your things in a bag. I brought back the sweatpants that you lent me too."

  "This is really great news!"

  "He said I could keep working here, and he would give me recommendations if I needed them. Ted's in jail," she finished quickly.

  I waited, but she didn't continue. "Are you mad?"

  "No. It's better this way." She looked down at her hands. "He can't beat me up when I file for divorce. I think the papers can be done and signed and everything before he gets out."

  Since Ted was going to be in jail for a few years, it was a good assumption. "Do you have enough work? Can you, I mean, do you think you can keep things going?"

  She looked up at me. "I guess if you can act like you belonged here, I could do it. It doesn't seem too hard."

  It wasn't all that easy either. "What are you going to do? Pretend to be rich?" I didn't see how that was going to help her situation.

  She shook her head. "That isn't what I meant. I mean that I never thought I belonged anywhere. I never believed I was worth anything or that anyone would hire me." She raised her hands and shrugged. "That doesn't appear to have stopped you."

  "Oh, well."

  "It's like you don't care what other people think. You don't wait for anyone's permission."

  "You get like that when you have brothers," I told her. "They're going to make fun of you no matter what. Eventually you stop trying to please the masses, and you certainly don't ask anyone for permission for anything." I thought about it. "And you definitely don't tell them what you're up to."

  She smiled. "You don't belong here. Maybe you don't deserve to belong here. But you're here anyway."

  "But how are you going to survive?"

  "I got three other apartments I'm cleaning. I didn't think anyone would rent me a place, but they did. I showed up with money, and they took it. I listed you as a reference." Her cheeks flushed a bit.

  I didn't mind one bit. "So, you have a place to live and three places to clean." I did the math. She had enough to maybe pay the rent.

  "There will be more places," she said. "And I'm selling the house. I figure in the divorce, Ted will get half of whatever I get from it, but I'll still have some of it."

  "Well, this idea sure beats getting knocked around." I went to my backpack and then had to look in the briefcase because I had finally transferred everything. I found Chuck's name and number. "This guy seems okay. He can probably set you up with other jobs. He's a counselor, but I guess if you tell him you don't want to sit and listen to him lecture, he might help you with the job part. Seems to me you've already done a lot of the other stuff he's supposed to help with." Like finding some self-esteem.

  She took the paper. "Mr. Huntington helped with the other jobs. I don't mind asking this guy if he has more. It's not hard and most of the people are nice. I guess if they aren't, I'll just leave." She looked quite defiant at the idea.

  I agreed heartily. "That's what I would do." I went to the phone pad and wrote down my home number. "I'm going home again. Could you call me? You know, just in case something happens?"

  She knew what I meant. Neither of us really wanted to sit and talk about it. She took the little slip of paper. "Thanks," she said softly.

  I got my stuff and let myself out. I felt pretty good about the way we left things.

  I got into the Mercedes, knowing it was probably the last time. Huntington could have taken it the other night, but for some reason he hadn't bothered.

  Chapter 42

  The good news was that when Huntington did show up, he brought Chinese food again.

  "Excellent," I said with a smile and ushered him in. "I went to the grocery today since you guys ate me out of house and home, but I haven't cooked yet."

  He set it out, and I got some plates. We ate until I thought I was going to have to let my pants out.

  When we were done, he started clearing the plates. I went to my trusty backpack and got the keys to the Mercedes. "It's a great car."

  He nodded. "You seem to like it."

  A thought occurred to me. "If you're driving the Mercedes back with you, how did you get here?"

  He grinned. "Mark dropped me off."

  I wasn't sure I liked that idea. What was he trying to prove? "Oh?"

  He dried his hands from rinsing the plates. "I was wondering if maybe you would like to keep the Mercedes."

  Now I was really suspicious. "Oh...really."

  He wiped the counter casually with the towel and then leaned back. "I investigate corporate problems. I clean up issues quietly without public scandal. Corporations know they can trust me."

  Because he was one of them. He fit in with board members, and it wasn't second nature to him, it was first. It was easy to understand that corporations would prefer to hire someone like him to clean up problems. "What does that have to do with me?"

  "I can't always obtain the information at every level, and there's this little job out in California…" his voice trailed off. There was a gleam in his eyes.

  There wasn't one in mine. I threw the keys at him.

  "Not a chance in hell."

  He smiled and moved before I could react. He picked up his sports coat and headed for the door. "I see. That is too bad."

  Automatically, I followed him to the front door. He opened it and grabbed my hand. He wrapped my fingers around the keys. "Keep them. Just in case you change your mind." With his other hand, he pushed my chin up to help me close my mouth. Then he leaned forward and brushed my lips with his.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  He murmured, "You never know when you might change your mind."

  Leaving me staring after him, he turned and strolled down my driveway, whistling. I had no idea how he was going to get home.

  Other Works

  Executive Retention, the second in the Sedona O'Hala Mysteries, is now available at Amazon and other fine e-bookstores. In addition to the Sedona series, Maria has written the first in a paranormal mystery series: Under Witch Moon. For additional magic, check out the anthologies: Tracking Magic (Max Killian Investigations) and Sage (Tales from a Magical Kingdom).

  Catch an Honest Thief is a stand alone mystery, combining a stealthy cape
r in the New Mexico desert with high-tech gadgets. Alexia must try to save her career--and her life. The following is an excerpt from Catch an Honest Thief.

  Catch an Honest Thief

  An Excerpt

  Chapter 1

  Dr. Alexia Zimmerman wondered, not for the first time, why people believed that burglars always wore black. Efficiently, she donned white gloves to match her outfit and slid through the doorway into the first chamber. That particular stereotype was about to cost the City of Haven its livelihood. Again.

  Of course, she didn't really intend to steal the crystals that powered the experimental city; this was her way of proving that they weren't being guarded carefully enough. Locked away in the mountains of the Cibola National Forest in New Mexico, various experiments utilized abundant sunshine and wind to provide much of the electrical needs for the city. The crystals, a serendipitous discovery, provided the rest.

  Carefully, she launched an electric current to confuse the listening devices that recorded noises as quiet as breathing. The steady hiss would cover any minute sounds she might make and fool the alarms that triggered on sudden noises.

  A white reflective shadow, she crossed the room to the second door and organized her tools for final penetration into the chamber that actually housed the crystals. She drew a white hood over her head. It did not sport eye or breathing slits, but if all went well, she wouldn't need it long. Like a phantom, she dodged through the invisible light beams that crisscrossed the room, her stark white suit reflecting the beams back. The illusion was complete. No sirens sounded, and Alexia allowed herself a small smile of triumph.

  As lead psychiatrist on the case of the thefts, she was supposed to help profile the mind behind the thefts. As part of the team of experts, she had access to the specifications for the security system--a fact that wasn't supposed to help said thief.

  It helped her.

  Above the room, she knew that a real person watched a camera feed. His pulse was monitored so that if he began to snooze, a jolt of electricity would awaken him. Five minutes ago, Alexia had blocked the camera feed with a computer-simulated picture of this very room.

  Using lasers of her own, she bypassed the more complex light beams surrounding the package. The computer she carried could produce up to forty beams, and she had memorized the necessary pattern before she entered the chamber. She set the device, feeding light into the receptors just long enough for her to grab the small package. She swapped the crystals with an empty bundle, removed her computer and scooted through the doorway.

  Hurrying now, she placed the crystals in the first room where they would still have minimal protection. She removed her gloves and hood, shook her blond hair free and tucked her tools away.

  The outer door opened onto a hallway. Her watch indicated that she had just over a minute before one of the "random" electronic sweeps would detect her presence. Listening to the tiny microphone she had planted outside the door, she heard nothing.

  Good.

  With the clock running down, she quickly inserted a metal strip that would keep the door contact sensors happy.

  Just as she was about to open the door, she heard noise.

  Voices.

  It took superhuman effort, but she held perfectly still and listened. The voices weren't coming closer, nor were they fading. Her hand, turned to keep the doorknob in position, cramped.

  Her heart beat faster and she licked sudden beads of sweat off her upper lip. She didn't dare look down at her watch. Doing so would twist her hand, and she couldn't chance the knob moving. As long as no one glanced directly at the door…

  She counted without moving her lips. Thirty seconds…forty. There was going to be a blue screen of death coming if she didn't get a break soon. She had perhaps fifteen seconds, maybe ten.

  Voices fading slowly or not, she had to get out or she would be caught, and that would be the end of her legitimate career as well as her extra-curricular activities.

  Edging through so that she could watch the hallway, she eased the contact strip out as the locks re-engaged.

  She held her breath as the two people who had passed continued talking. They were not facing her and took no notice.

  Alexia put her shaking legs to use by walking steadily away from the scene of the crime. People might see her now, but would think nothing of it. This hallway was quite populated in the daytime, and it was only just after lunch.

  Another myth: burglars always work in the darkness of night.

  ...Here ends the free excerpt for "Catch an Honest Thief."

  The following is an excerpt from: "Sage: Tales from a Magical Kingdom."

  Sage: Tales from a Magical Kingdom

  Toil, Trouble and Rot (Story One)

  Everyone thinks heroes are strapping young men and beautiful damsels. If that were true, the kingdom of Sage would no longer be a kingdom because the young don't have the patience or experience to protect important territories. Leave them in charge and Sage would become just another territory under the Rats from the West.

  I am the castle's first line of defense. Yes, I know, you are thinking I must man the ramparts or march with the soldiers. Wrong. I am the gardener. I am fifty-five years old with lovely tresses shaped in artful white curls around my dainty head. For a grandma, I sport very few wrinkles and for the record, gardeners never wear skirts whether or not they are Master Magicians, which I am.

  When my plants in the garden twittered just the tiniest bit about their far relatives in the valley, I knew instantly who was at fault. "The Rats from the West," I muttered. "What lingers, what complaints?"

  Unfortunately, plants viewed the world very simply and weren't terribly helpful when it came to details. The major complaint seemed to be a lack of nutrients, so it was probably just a lazy farmer failing to rotate his crops.

  It was a nice morning, so I took myself off to investigate. If the farmer saw me at all, he probably figured I was homeless or looking for a missing kitten. No doubt he failed to guess that I, just five years shy of sixty, was capable of hunting down deviant rat magic.

  And find it, I did. "Drat it all!" The evil magic in the farmer's field was rot. It was draped along the ground, professionally left on an occasional stalk where it could spread on its own.

  I touched a healthy looking plant and got zapped backwards on my bony butt. "Oomph. Wha--" Magic was rarely confused by age, and it didn't pull its punches because my hair was already white. Whatever magic was here had enough respect for me to lash out with a surge of black rot that burned my careless fingers but good.

  This was far more serious than a lazy farmer forgetting to rotate crops. Fungus enhanced by magic was insidious indeed and dangerous to the entire kingdom!

  I hightailed it for the forest. No doubt I looked as though I had taken a few too many sips from the fermented barley barrel. In my defense, let me say that it hurts to run when you're old. There is no way to do it without gimping along and looking like a deranged fool. My fluffy white bonnet flew off and bounced behind me, attached only loosely to a lone button on my green cape.

  Foolish looking or not, I needed to get my hand treated immediately. Magical burns were not to be trifled with and for me, a plant wizard, to be infected with rot spells was not only painful, it was dangerous. This magic was the exact opposite of my own, and my blood corroded quickly as the stuff seeped through my skin. "Blimey!"

  Luckily, I knew exactly where thyme grew inside the forest. It was a mild magic so while it kept the fungus from spreading, it was really no more than a compress on a wound.

  This vile fungus infection required a visit to the metallurgist and some copper. Rue would have helped also, but the infection was spreading fast, so with only the thyme in hand, I raced to the village to my friend Bridget. The woman was a Master Metallurgist and could work metal like no one I'd ever seen.

  She didn't need to be told twice either. "Fungus rot," I panted. "I was reading the energy and it got me. I need to purge it with copper."

&n
bsp; By now, my hand was swollen to twice its normal size. The thyme was wrapped well and good around my entire hand, but the magical qualities of the fungus were giving it legs. If I didn't stop it soon, I would lose my hand.

  "What is needed?" Bridget brought forth a copper pot.

  "Boil some of the thyme and leech out copper into the water. I need to drink tea with both." I gasped for air, but not because of the run. It was taking a lot of my personal magic to keep the fungus from spreading past my hand.

  Bridget added water to the pot and placed her hands inside. She drew herself into a focused beam, her hands glowing as she rubbed the side lightly. Her energy literally melted the finest molecules of the copper into the water.

  When she was satisfied, she pulled her dripping hands out. I grabbed a tea kettle from the stove, poured a half-cup and put in a fresh sprig of thyme. "Fill the cup with the water from your pot," I pleaded.

  "No, this is much too strong to drink. Get your hand in there while I dilute some for the tea."

  I didn't argue. My hand looked like it belonged on a diseased corpse. The only benefit to this torture as far as I could tell was that my aged veins had completely disappeared underneath swollen skin. The magic pounded my hand and wrapped around my bones.

  I swallowed the tea and scalded my tongue.

  Bridget held my hand with one of hers and the pot with the other. She controlled the flow of copper.

  Relief was slow. The swelling didn't go down, but I felt the copper smack into the fungus. I put my own magic into the mix, leaching the fungus of any nutrients. I probably went too far and sucked several good elements from my skin, but I was so angry, I didn't get control of myself soon enough.

  When I felt reasonably safe, I closed my eyes and searched for bits that might have broken off. I needed a live rue plant to fight off the rest of the fungus, but I would have to return to my garden to get it.