"Last year's winner wrote about her first time seeing a musical, which was a treat from her grandparents. Like I said, any personal experience with the theater. You can find all the links to the winning entries on our website."
I tapped my pen against the notepad. What if Sophie simply won her ticket? "Do you have a list of past winners?"
"You can also find that information on our website."
"Thanks so much for your time."
"Have a wonderful day," he sighed before hanging up.
I called up a new tab on my browser and searched for The Playhouse. The gala had its own subheading and it didn't take me long to find the answer. Sophie didn't win a ticket and neither did Zach. Nor was she given them by the actual winners who were all pictured in their evening dress at the events in the galleries. I checked the patron list too but didn't find any names I recognized.
Drawing a large question mark on my notepad, I moved onto my next call: Austen's secretary, Katrina Halliday. I felt weird about asking her probing questions regarding her boss but I couldn't ignore the lead. Zach raised the issue of her and Austen having an extracurricular relationship, although he could have simply been throwing out wild accusations. But that didn't mean there wasn't an element of truth despite Austen's counterclaim.
"Austen told me to expect you," she said, answering the phone. "Would you like to come by the office to talk?"
I blinked, surprised at the warmth in her voice. I expected her to be surly and insulting, or even cautious. "Yes, that would be great."
"If you could come now, it would fit well into my schedule. I have a meeting at three."
"I'll get a cab and join you..."
"Don't trouble yourself," she interrupted, "just tell me where you are and I'll send a car over. Austen said I should assist you in any way you need."
"Thank you!"
By the time I stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the agency, a black town car with tinted windows was idling at the curb. A man with black hair and a neat beard, dressed in a black suit and narrow black tie, stepped out and opened the door for me. "Ms. Graves?" he said, indicating he already knew my identity and was inviting me to get into the car.
"Thanks," I said, eager to enter as elegantly as I could, which would have gone so much better if I hadn't hit my head on the ceiling. The chauffeur pretended not to notice as he shut the door. While I buckled my seatbelt, he climbed into the driver's seat.
"If you would like some water or another beverage, you will find an assortment inside the central panel," he said, merging into the traffic before I could blink.
"Are you Austen's personal chauffeur?" I asked.
"I work exclusively for the firm but I am not his personal chauffeur as such," he explained. "The firm retains a small number of vehicles for the use of staff and clients when situations are not conducive for public transportation."
"Do you ever drive Austen?"
"Many times."
"What do you think of him?"
"He's a good boss," he said without hesitation.
"In what sense?"
"He remembers my name and never talks down to me. He even offered me other, more lucrative opportunities but mostly, I just like driving."
"What kind of opportunities?"
"He hired a tutor for any members of the staff who don't have a GED. I got mine. Some decide to take more college classes, which he also encourages, but like I said, I prefer driving. I'm good at it and I like being around cars."
"Have you met his wife, Sophie?"
"Ms. Halliday said you might ask that. I have. A lovely lady. A little shy. She helped my daughter with her art homework on several occasions."
"That was nice of her."
The chauffeur smiled. "She thought it was nice of my daughter to let her help. Mrs. Takahashi knows a lot about art. My daughter wishes her high school teachers were more like her. Here we are. Ms. Halliday will meet you in the lobby." The car drew up alongside a glass-fronted building with a central revolving door. The chauffeur got out and opened the door for me. Mercifully, this time, I managed not to whack my head. I thanked him for the ride and he smiled and nodded.
A few people milled around the lobby, looking relaxed, dressed in slacks and informal shirts and blouses. I didn't see any ties but a lot of smiles. I got the feeling this was a happy place to work, which made it better than ninety percent of the firms I temped for.
A tall woman, her black Afro peppered with gray and held back by a black band, was wearing mulberry pants and a pale pink blouse. She waited for me by the keycard machines that allowed access to the main building. She smiled when she saw me and walked forward, her hand outstretched. "Ms. Graves, thank you so much for coming. I appreciate your swift response on such short notice. I'm Katrina Halliday."
"It's no problem at all," I said, warming to her friendly demeanor and fabulous taste in clothing.
"I hope I can answer your inquiries. Austen has kept me pretty well informed of your investigation. I told him we should probably have spoken sooner but his mind has, naturally, been focused primarily on Sophie's wellbeing."
"You only came up as someone to speak to very recently," I told her as she swiped us through the machine. We took the stairs to the second floor and I followed her along a light-filled corridor.
"Austen mentioned his brother-in-law's accusations. I probably shouldn't have laughed but I did." She ushered me into an office and closed the door. Like the rest of the building, the walls were white, the carpet medium gray, and two wide windows overlooked a courtyard. A wall of glass with a door in the center, separated this office from the one next door. "That's where Austen sits," she explained. "We work in close proximity to each other, given my role, but privacy is guaranteed with the smart glass."
"It's a very nice office," I said looking around at the sleek furniture.
"It is," she agreed. Taking a seat on one of the sofas, she politely offered me the other. Someone left a tray with a carafe of water and two glasses on a low coffee table but I declined when she asked me if I cared for any. "So how can I help?"
"I'd like to start with Zach's accusation that you and Austen are having an affair."
"Jump directly into it. I like a forthright woman," said Katrina, nodding approvingly. "The answer is no. There never has been, is, nor will there ever be, an affair between my boss and me. I am Austen's assistant, and I like to think I’m his friend too, but neither one of us has the slightest inclination to pursue anything beyond that."
"Why do you think Zach would make such an accusation?"
"I only met Zach twice. First, at Austen and Sophie's wedding; and later at a company event that he crashed."
"What was your impression of him at their wedding?"
"He spent the whole time making comments about what people had rather than learning about who they were. He came off to most people as brash and crass although I think he amused some of the guests with tall tales of his Army days."
"Can you remember what he said?"
Katrina shrugged. "Apparently, he enlisted in his twenties. Did a couple of tours in Iraq, or so he said. He sounded bitter but I suppose many of our young servicemen and women underestimate what they ultimately sign up for."
Oh, boy, did I know that better than anyone! Fortunately, the Army and I switched paths at boot camp. "Bitter? In what way?"
"He whined the country hung him out to dry after he left the military. Barely any pension, no opportunities, and their 'thank you for your service' was nothing but a ‘warm glow with a cold sting’. His words, not mine. Then he said something that troubled me, not like the other things didn't."
"What was that?"
"He said moving to Montgomery was a new start for him and Sophie and he was very pleased that their fortunes had finally turned. Not Sophie's. Theirs. I thought it was an unusual choice of words but I convinced myself otherwise. I pretended Zach meant he hoped Austen would start some kind of charity or new initiative for men like him. Men who gav
e so much to the country only to receive so little in return."
"Did Austen establish anything like that?"
"It never came up again. I suppose he might have helped Zach privately but I'm not privy to Austen’s personal interests or transactions."
"Like his home renovations?"
"I liaise with his contractor, Mr. Ortega, on occasions, when Austen asks but it’s not my purview."
"Did you note any complaints from Mr. Ortega or his work crew?"
She frowned. "Nothing was brought to my attention. Mr. Ortega is always pleasant to speak with."
"What about the work event? You mentioned Zach showed up there too?" I asked. My purpose for being there was to ask Katrina about Austen and Sophie, yet Zach dominated our conversation and I was curious as to where it would go.
"It was embarrassing really. It happened during our summer family picnic for the employees, their partners and their children. We tried to make it a carnival theme with rides for the little ones and popcorn and hotdog stands and even a raffle. Zach caused a bit of a scene. He shouted at Austen and claimed as he was Sophie's only surviving family, he should have received an invitation to the affair. I don't think she told him about it at all. Plus, it was meant for the immediate families of the employees: their partners and kids, not their siblings. Anyway, Zach also tried to pitch his half-baked ideas to some of the suits, using his relationship with Austen as leverage. He drank too much and became belligerent. I called security to assist him home," she added with an eyeroll. "Austen didn't want him allowed on the premises again. He didn't discuss it with me but I know Zach embarrassed him."
"I can imagine."
"You know what really struck me? How unalike Sophie and Zach are. At first, I thought she was a little meek but gradually, I've gotten to know her. She’s very warm although a little on the quiet side. She's also terribly knowledgeable. Austen asked her to select all the art you see in his office, you know?"
"I didn't know. May I?" I asked, curious what choices a wife might pick for her husband’s office.
"Sure." Katrina stood and I followed her through the glass doors into Austen's office. She indicated a triptych on the far wall. "Isn't it lovely? Very modern, yet so captivating," she said as we gazed at the thick blue oils sweeping across the three canvases. "However, this is my favorite," she added, turning around and pointing to a much smaller canvas. At first, I wasn't sure what I was looking at but when I stepped closer, I realized it was a line drawing of two people embracing. The woman's head rested on the man's chest and their eyes were closed. It was simple and rapturous. When I glanced at Austen's desk, I realized it was directly in his line of sight. "She drew that for their first anniversary," Katrina added as we both gazed at it.
"It's beautiful."
"Austen bought her theater tickets and said her version of a paper gift was much better than his."
"Austen mentioned they met at the theater."
"Yes. At the gala. To think he never intended to go! And then he meets Sophie and they’re married within months!"
"He didn't intend to go?"
"No. I asked him if he wanted tickets after he purchased them the year before but he said he didn't plan to attend since he was too busy. However, the theater sent him a ticket as a gift so he decided to go ahead and use it. Didn't that turn out to be serendipity?"
I nodded. It was extremely fortunate and remarkable that he happened to receive the very ticket that placed him directly beside Sophie. Far too remarkable to call luck.
Chapter Seventeen
After asking Katrina for more details about the gifted ticket, she managed to produce a printed invitation from a file in her office. The letter, printed on what looked like The Playhouse's letterhead, confirmed that Austen was invited to attend the gala as a way to thank him for his patronage over the years. The ticket was stapled to it.
"Was Austen a patron for very long?" I asked.
"Well, yes. He did donate several times privately over the years, and more recently, to the new roof fund. I don't see why that's important?"
"Let me make a call," I said, pulling out my phone although I was sure I knew the answer even before I dialed.
"The Playhouse," said the same bored, deep voice as before.
"I'm calling on behalf of Austen Takahashi's office," I trilled, hoping he'd already forgotten my voice from earlier. "Perhaps you can help me with a small query."
"Of course. How may I assist you?" he asked, his tone perkier after I threw in Austen's full name.
"We're looking at our budgets for the last couple of years and I noticed Mr. Takahashi received a ticket for the annual gala almost two years ago but we have no record of it. Could you look up the purchase please?"
"I'm afraid I don't have access to that information."
"Please put me through to your supervisor or someone who can help me then," I said, sounding as dismissive as possible.
"I don't know that I can..."
"We're looking at our donations for the year too. I would hate for The Playhouse to lose out," I said, dangling the prospect of money like a carrot in front of his nose. "I'd be happy to mention you by name and let your superiors know how helpful you were when the donation is made."
"Let me put you through to Jan in Hospitality," he said. "Hold, please!"
"You're pretty good at this," said Katrina.
"This is Jan. To whom am I speaking?" asked a very proper sounding English voice.
"I'm calling from Austen Takahashi's office. I'm the new assistant to his assistant, Katrina Halliday."
"Of course. My colleague mentioned you needed help locating a previous ticket purchase."
"That's correct. For the gala."
"I can get you that information. One moment..." She went quiet as I waited, and Katrina raised her eyebrows. "Hmm. I don't see it. Are you sure it was two years ago?"
"Positive. I still have the seat number," I said, reading it from the invitation.
"Here it is," she said, returning to the line. "A pair of tickets were purchased that included that seat. Ah, I can see why it hasn't shown up in your accounts. It didn't come via the corporate account."
"Oh? I must have made a mistake. What account paid for it?"
"A personal one, from a Miss Sophie Gallo. Shall I forward the information? I have an email address for Katrina Halliday on record. Is that correct?"
"Yes, please do. Thank you so much for your help." I hung up before she could ask me about the donation.
"What did they say?" asked Katrina.
"The ticket wasn't a gift from the theater," I told her. "It was a gift from Sophie!"
Katrina's forehead wrinkled. "It's written on The Playhouse letterhead."
"She must have faked it somehow. I don't think it would be too hard to do. The letterhead might be real even if the message isn't from them."
"Why would she do that? Sophie didn't even know Austen then."
"That’s a very good question."
"Maybe there was another reason?"
"If there was, I'll find out," I told her. "I think I need to speak to Austen again. Until then, can you keep this strictly between us?"
Katrina contemplated that and just when I thought she would refuse, she nodded. "I'm not comfortable about keeping secrets from Austen but I'll wait until you have more information."
Katrina walked me out of the building to the chauffeur, who was waiting with the car. Even though it seemed extravagant, I appreciated it and asked him to return me to the office. The whole drive there, I wondered why Sophie would have orchestrated the meeting with Austen under the guise of pretending the theater had sent him a gift. I knew when I spoke to him that he wouldn't be happy about the subterfuge. I had to have more answers for him than that. I had to know why.
As the car rolled towards the agency, I checked my social media accounts, sucking in a breath when I saw a notification in my private messages. Annie Woodley replied, saying she was happy to talk, and wondered what I wanted to
know? She included her cellphone number and told me to call her as soon as I was available. I could hardly wait until I got out of the car and hotfooted it past Jim the Doorman, jogging up the stairs.
Solomon had already left so the office was quiet. I dropped into my chair and pulled out my file, a notepad and pen before dialing the number.
"Hello?" A soft-spoken woman answered.
"Hi, Annie? This is Lexi Graves. I got your message. Thank you for taking the time to get back to me."
"No problem at all. I have to admit I was surprised. I think about Sophie a lot but no one's ever bothered to ask me about her. A few of us get together every year to celebrate her life."
"That's a lovely thing to do."
"We all miss her terribly, even though she kind of dropped out of touch when she married Zach."
"She did?"
"Yeah," sighed Annie. "Anyway, what can I help you with? I'm not sure why a private investigator would be looking into Sophie. She died... It still seems like yesterday, you know, and then I realize a couple of years have gone by and the shock starts all over again. How did you know to contact me?"
"I found your name in a newspaper report after the accident," I told her. "Sophie and Zach's name came up in relation to an investigation and I wondered what you could tell me about them?"
"Sophie? Plenty. We were close friends for years, all the way through college. We shared a lot of classes together and were roommates until our final year when we got tired of bunking with so many other girls and took an apartment together. She was the sweetest person. A little on the quiet side but passionate about so many things. She was a terrific listener and she volunteered at an old people's home once a week. I'm sorry, is that information any use to you?"
"It's great, thanks," I assured her. "What about Zach? When did she meet him?"
"I'm not sure when exactly — I think we were twenty-eight — but she told me they met at a bar one night and he asked her for a date. They had coffee somewhere and he sent her flowers the next day. I thought he was so chivalrous. He was always doing sweet stuff like that. Making dates, giving her presents."
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