She touched his arm, but she said nothing.
“That’s it. I burned all of the records I could locate that related to Fletcher’s scheme. Until I found that blackmail note in my Jeep this morning, I thought I had erased all the evidence.”
“But Uncle Rollie may have found something and filed it.”
“Yes.” Jasper thought about the cabinets in his basement. “I guess I can’t blame him. I’ve got the same bad habits.”
Olivia studied his face. “What’s done is done. We’ll both be hearing from the blackmailer again soon. We need a new plan.”
“True.” He brushed his fingers lightly against hers. “We’ve got a lot of information to work with, and I think I know where I can get some more.”
“Where?”
“From Silas at Pri-Con Self-Storage.”
She frowned. “You’re going back there to talk to him?”
“Yes. Right now, in fact.” Jasper shifted her gently out of his path. He went across the room to where his jacket lay on the back of the sofa. “That padlock on Rollie’s locker looked new, didn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“What if the blackmailer broke in, took out whatever was inside, and then installed another lock to make it look as though no one had opened the locker?”
Her eyes widened. “Good thought. If someone removed the entire contents of a locker during the past month, Silas would have been aware of it. Whoever did it would have had to use the elevator to bring everything downstairs and put it into a car or a truck.”
“Right. With any luck, Silas will have some kind of record of the move-ins and move-outs. His office looked fairly well organized. All I need is a name.”
Olivia frowned. “Silas didn’t mention anyone else asking him about locker four-ninety, though.”
“If the blackmailer already knew about Rollie’s locker, he wouldn’t have had to ask Silas about it. You saw how the system worked. If you know your locker number, you get inside without too many questions.”
She glanced at the clock. “I wish I could go with you, but I’ve got a meeting with Todd and Dixon Haggard.”
Jasper walked to the front door. “I’ll let you know what I find out from Silas.”
“All right.” She grabbed her purse, slung it over her shoulder, and hurried after him.
“By the way,” Jasper said as they went out into the hall. “I’m going to fire Melwood Gill this afternoon.”
Olivia gave a half-strangled yelp of outrage and spun around. Behind the lenses of her sleek glasses Jasper saw green flames leap in her eyes.
“What are you talking about?” She blocked the path to the elevator. “You can’t fire poor Mel. I won’t allow it.”
Jasper reached past her to push the elevator call button. “Olivia, Gill is guilty of more than bad management. He’s embezzled over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars from Glow in the past four months. What do you want me to do? Give him a medal?”
She was still staring at him, open-mouthed, when he gently hauled her into the elevator.
20
The chess player considered the new positions the opponent had taken. The unpredictable element in the other’s strategy had become more evident. And more difficult to anticipate.
It was time to remove one of the pieces on the board.
21
Twenty-four hours. Olivia was still fuming forty-five minutes later as she stood with Todd and Dixon in the old pier warehouse. The two men were poring over the plans for the huge, glowing flag that was to unfurl down from the ceiling behind the speaker’s platform.
The argument with Jasper had lasted for the duration of the very brisk walk from her condo to the Light Fantastic studio. She had fought every inch of the way and had at last managed to buy Melwood Gill a twenty-four-hour reprieve.
Fat lot of good it would do, she thought. It was clear that Jasper had already made up his mind.
A hundred and fifty thousand dollars? Melwood Gill? It was a staggering thought. Jasper had to be wrong.
“Love the lit flag concept, Olivia.” Dixon looked up at the heavily timbered ceiling. “I can see it now, unfurling behind Eleanor just as she finishes her speech. The flag is large enough to provide strong visual impact, I hope?”
“It’s a really big flag,” Olivia assured him. “When it’s released, it will fall full length, all the way from that rafter to the floor of the stage behind Ms. Lancaster.”
Todd looked dubious. “A glowing flag?”
“Wait’ll you see it,” Olivia said. “Very dramatic.”
He mulled that over. “Won’t it look a little tacky?”
She glared at him. “No, it will look patriotic.”
“I like it,” Dixon said. He shot Todd a cold look. “You don’t understand the importance of visuals.” He looked at Olivia. “How do the lights work? Will they shine on it?”
“No, this is very high-tech. We’ve used some of the latest and greatest gadgetry from Glow, Inc. The red, white, and blue electroluminescent fibers are woven right into the fabric of the flag. The audience will see glowing red and white stripes and a lighted blue background behind the stars.”
“Fantastic.” Dixon looked impressed. “At the finale of the speech, all the lights in the room go out simultaneously. Then the lighted flag descends full length behind Eleanor.”
“That’s the idea,” Olivia agreed. “The effect will be accented with music. A single flip of the switch on the control panel behind the curtain makes it all happen.”
“She’ll be framed in the red, white, and blue glow of the American flag.” Dixon nodded, pleased. “Perfect.”
“She’s running for governor, not president,” Todd said mildly.
Dixon scowled. “Stick to writing her speeches, Chantry. I’ll handle her image.”
Todd shrugged. “A politician who looks overly ambitious can turn off voters.”
“We want to establish the feeling that Eleanor is a future leader for this country,” Dixon snapped. “It will be a great photo op for the press.”
Todd’s jaw tightened. “This flag-and-music thing sounds a little gimmicky to me.”
Dixon gave him a scornful look. “Welcome to the wonderful world of the modern media campaign. No such thing as too many special effects.”
“I just don’t want the bells and whistles to detract from the message,” Todd said.
“She can’t implement her agenda if we don’t get her elected, now, can she?” Dixon turned back to Olivia. His eyes still smoldered with anger, but his voice did not betray it. “I like it. We’ll go with your plans.”
Todd said nothing, but he did not argue.
Olivia cleared her throat politely. “If you’re satisfied, I’d like to conclude this meeting. I’ve got a big event scheduled for tomorrow night. We’re rather busy back at the studio.”
Dixon nodded. “That would be the Camelot Blue launch?”
“Right.”
He glanced at his watch. “We’ll see you there. Eleanor cleared her schedule so that she could attend.”
I’ll just bet she did, Olivia thought. And so would her rivals, if they could get invitations. That many monied people in one place at one time would be an irresistible lure to all of the candidates.
She got back to her office fifteen minutes later. The seat of her chair was heaped with faxes and phone messages. She had barely started through them when Zara put her head around the door.
“I’ve finished my list.”
Olivia looked up. “What list?” Then it all came back in a flash. She managed a smile. “Oh, yes. Of course. Your list.”
Zara walked into the office. Her eyes shone with satisfaction. “I had to pull out my old press clippings to get some of these names. Brought back a lot of old memories, I can tell you. But I think I’ve got everyone.”
Olivia decided not to inform Zara that the list-making endeavor had probably been a total waste of time because the focus of the investigation had shifted. She made an effort
to appear enthusiastic.
“Great,” she said. “Give it to me, and I’ll pass it along to Jasper. He’ll contact his private investigator.”
“My money is on Beatrice Hanford.” Zara handed Olivia a thick sheaf of neatly typed pages that had been stapled together at the corner. “She was always insanely jealous of me. It got worse after I got the part of Sybil on Crystal Cove.”
“I’ll tell Jasper to put Beatrice Hanford at the top of the list.” She hesitated. “You haven’t had any more messages from the blackmailer, have you?”
“No, thank heavens. But I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.”
It was more likely that the extortionist had turned his attention to his juicier prey, Olivia thought. But she said nothing. She had a feeling that Zara would be disappointed if she found out that the blackmailer had lost interest in her.
Olivia dropped Zara’s list into her satchel. “Everything set for our staff to start work first thing in the morning at the Enfield Mansion?”
“Yes. I’ve also talked to the manager of the catering company to make certain that there were no glitches there.”
“Thanks. Send Bolivar in here, will you? I want to go over the lighting plans one more time.”
“Right away.” Zara paused in the doorway. “Did I tell you that your mother called last night?”
“No.” Olivia went back to her pile of messages.
“We had a lovely chat. She wanted to know how things were going at Glow.”
Olivia looked up, frowning. “Why didn’t she call me, in that case?”
“Because,” Zara said pointedly, “she wanted to know, specifically, what was going on between you and Jasper Sloan, and she was pretty sure she wouldn’t get the whole truth out of you.”
Olivia drummed her fingers on the desktop. “Someone blabbed. Aunt Rose, probably.”
“Could have been any number of people, knowing this family.” Zara gave her a commiserating smile. “Don’t worry, dear. I downplayed the gossip as much as I could. Told her not to worry.”
Olivia sighed. “Everything okay down in Tucson?”
“Oh, yes. Candace was a trifle annoyed with your father because he played golf yesterday without his hat. She says she’s always having to remind him to wear sunscreen and a hat when he goes out on the course.”
“His hat.” Olivia heard a crackling sound.
She looked down and saw that she had just crumpled a yellow sticky note in one hand. She did not see the message that was scrawled on it.
What she saw was a sudden, sharp mental image of the crushable, wide-brimmed hat her mother had given to her father to carry in his back pocket. She had bought it for him after the dermatologist had removed some rough patches of skin caused by exposure to the sun. The diagnosis was an extremely common one, actinic keratoses. Not dangerous, but left untreated such patches could eventually change into skin cancers.
Melwood Gill had been badly shaken by a recent brush with skin cancer.
Melwood Gill, blackmailer? Impossible. Not Melwood. She was leaping to wild conclusions. Intuition was all well and good, but you couldn’t rely on it for something as vitally important as this.
Logic was needed here.
Jasper’s words echoed in her ears. Blackmail is always personal.
The blackmailer knew a lot about both her schedule and Jasper’s. He had information that had probably been known only to Rollie. Melwood had worked at Glow for more than twenty years. Rollie had relied on him. Given his position in the accounting department, it was likely that Melwood knew more about Rollie and Glow, Inc., than anyone else in the company. If he had been embezzling funds for several months, there was no telling how much snooping he had done.
Anyone who was capable of embezzling from an employer who trusted him was capable of going through a dead man’s files.
Capable of blackmail?
“Olivia?” Zara looked concerned. “Something wrong, dear?”
“No.” Olivia forced a quick, reassuring smile. “Nothing. I was just thinking about tomorrow night.”
“Don’t worry. The Camelot Blue event will be a smashing success. You’ll see.” Zara wafted out through the door, silk scarf trailing behind her.
Olivia waited until she was alone. Then she snatched up the phone.
“Mr. Sloan’s office.”
“Aunt Rose, it’s me, Olivia. This is going to seem like a bizarre question, but I was wondering if you’ve ever noticed Melwood Gill wearing a hat since he had his skin cancer surgery?”
“A hat? Well, yes, of course. The surgery gave him quite a scare, you know. He told me that he’s extremely careful these days. He never goes outside without first putting on sunscreen and a hat.”
“Have you ever actually seen him in a hat?”
“Heavens yes. He has a couple of those soft, crushable types in his office. You, know, the kind people sometimes wear on boats. I’ve noticed that he generally puts one in his back pocket when he’s getting ready to leave the building. Why do you ask?”
Olivia’s mouth went dry. One step at a time here, she thought. Keep the logic straight. “I found a hat matching that description on my way out of Glow the other day. I remembered that Dad wears one a lot down in Tucson because of the sun. It crossed my mind that Melwood would have gotten the same advice and that the hat I found might belong to him.”
Weak, Olivia, very weak.
Fortunately Rose did not appear to notice.
“I can ask him, if you like.”
“No.” Olivia closed her eyes and forced herself to sound calm and casual. “No need to do that. I’ll drop it off in the accounting department next time I’m in the building. Thanks, Aunt Rose.”
Olivia hung up the phone and sprawled back in her chair, thinking furiously. She was making too many wild assumptions. She was probably going off the deep end here. Jasper was already convinced that Gill was an embezzler. She definitely did not want to provide further ammunition to be used against Melwood unless she was absolutely certain that he was guilty.
There was one more thing she could easily check, she realized. If it was Melwood she had run down with the platform truck this morning then he would have been out of the office at the same time that she was at Pri-Con Self-Storage.
She picked up the phone and tapped out the number of the Glow accounting department. A crisp, precise voice answered on the other end of the line.
“Accounting. Barry Chantry here.”
“Cousin Barry? It’s Olivia.”
“Hi, cuz. What’s up?”
“Pretty busy here at Light Fantastic. Listen, I’ve got a quick question. This is going to seem a little weird, but I was wondering if you noticed if Melwood Gill was out of the office for a while this morning.”
“Gill? Yeah, I think he said something about having a doctor’s appointment. Why?”
“Nothing.” Olivia forced herself to breathe. “I’m just a little worried about him, that’s all. The transfer and all, you know.”
“Gill’s always been a little on the tense side,” Barry said conversationally. “Got worse after that brush with skin cancer. But the transfer really agitated him.”
“Thanks, Barry. Give my love to Millie and the twins.”
“Will do. Say, anything to the gossip about you and Sloan?”
“You know better than to listen to gossip, Barry.”
“Sure would make things simpler.”
She did not like the fake innocence in his voice. “What would make things simpler?”
“If you and Sloan, uh, you know …”
“No, I don’t know, Barry. If Sloan and I did what?”
“Got serious. And, like, maybe even got married.”
“Barry.”
“Well, you know, it would sorta fulfill Uncle Rollie’s dream of keeping Glow a family-owned company.”
“Good-bye, Barry.” Olivia hung up before Barry could make further suggestions on the subject of keeping Glow in the family.
She
sat for a while, thinking. After a few minutes she got up to prepare another infusion of caffeine.
There were a lot of questions that had to be answered before she made a move, she decided, as she spooned dark French roast coffee into the filter cone. The biggest one of all, assuming Melwood was the blackmailer, was how had he gotten hold of Rollie’s files and what had he done with them?
She thought about the fire in her uncle’s study. It had occurred only a day after news of Rollie’s death had reached Seattle. Melwood Gill? He had been among the first to know that his employer was dead.
Icy adrenaline shot through her. Everyone said that poor Melwood was just not himself these days.
The phone rang again before she could finish her ruminations. She picked up the receiver.
“Light Fantastic. This is Olivia.”
“Hi, Olivia. Andy Andrews of Hard Currency here.”
“Andrews?” Olivia pulled herself out of the morbid maze of speculation that swirled in her brain. “You’ve got a lot of nerve calling me after that Foil Town crack in your newsletter.”
“Where’s your sense of humor, Olivia?” Andy chuckled. “I thought you’d appreciate the mention.”
“I’m supposed to appreciate Foil Town? Give me a break.”
“Sorry,” Andy said casually. “Just trying to add a little punch to the article. But Foil Town, as we say in the business, is yesterday’s news. I’m calling about tomorrow’s.”
“Which is?” Olivia asked cautiously.
“Talk to me about what happened to Logan Dane’s paintings after his death, and I promise that when I do the piece on the Camelot Blue launch party I’ll make it sound like the event was staged by Disney.”
Olivia tightened her hand around the phone. “I’ll give you the same answer I give everyone else. When it comes to the subject of Logan Dane, I have absolutely no comment.”
“Is it true that you’ve got his pictures stored someplace and you’re selling them off real slow so as not to flood the market and drive down the prices?”
“Good-bye, Andy.” Olivia tossed the phone back into the cradle.
Flash Page 20
