by Tony Lavely
“Yeah.” She shot a grin back over her shoulder. “That’s why I didn’t tell you before.”
After an eclectic dinner, Beckie joked with Beth as they assisted Boynton with clearing things away. When they were out of Lisa’s hearing, Beckie said, “Take care of her, and make sure she gets a reasonable sense of what our life is like. Reasonable, remember,” when the woman began a grin that the Cheshire cat might have envied.
Beth’s grin faded into mere humor quickly. “Don’t worry. We’ll try not to disillusion her too much.” She gave a short laugh. “When do you want her back?”
“How about Monday about nine. I have a plan.” We’ll see how it will work out.
Kerry Byrne’s Transfer
Kerry had not enjoyed her dinner as much as the other diners. Beckie had watched her off and on from her seat across the table. She gazed over the rim of her wine glass, filled with San Pellegrino, taking the woman’s stock. Kerry filled the promise of her Irish name, dark auburn hair over clear white complexion. That complexion now had the expression of a ten- or twelve- year old who’d lost her favorite doll. Beckie knew she was older than herself, a couple of years, and that she’d been working for Rou since college.
However, she looked like that twelve-year-old girl… with a better figure, to be sure. She was smaller in stature than Beckie. And that doesn’t happen very often with someone older than me, Beckie mused. Kerry was two inches shorter than Beckie; Boynton told her he’d been planning to make a joke about needing a cushion for her, but dismissed the thought as he saw the worry clouding Kerry’s face. “One glass of wine if she wants it,” Beckie said. “She and I need to talk.”
When they’d finished the clean-up, Beckie found Kerry on the lanai. Apparently, her angst had affected the others; only Amy sat with her. In the dark, Kerry could have been crying. Not the best way to start an interview. “Amy, I’ll be back in two minutes, okay?”
“Okay.”
Beckie turned back to the kitchen and opened a new bottle of water. She drank enough to cover the two minutes; back on the lanai, Amy passed her headed to the door, leaving her alone with Kerry.
“Good evening, Kerry. Did you enjoy dinner?”
“Yes, Ms Jamse, I did. Thank you.”
“No problem. Now, do you know why you’re here?”
“Mrs. Go… wants to fire me. Because I screwed up the Rose Creek contract. I didn’t vet it well enough, so—”
“I know that part.” Beckie looked Kerry over again. A business formal skirt that fell below the knee, and a matching vest over a white button down shirt. Not confused about why she was invited, then. She reached a hand. “Stand up.” When she did, Beckie cast another discerning eye up and down, to what looked like chagrin. “We’re gonna take a walk, and I’m not gonna be responsible for ruining that suit.” She gently pulled Kerry with her. As she did, she said, “Come along. I’ll bet you’re the only one here besides Kamala that my clothes will be big on.”
She dragged shorts and a work shirt out of her dresser, handed them to Kerry and pushed her at the bathroom door. Ten minutes later, Kerry opened the door, her skirt, vest and shirt neatly folded in her arms.
“Okay, that’s better for the beach. Put your stuff down and we’ll head off.”
Home Cay’s circumference wasn’t quite two miles, but all the beaches were sand which made setting a brisk pace difficult. Beckie chose to amble along the strand; having warned Boynton of her plan, she kept to the south beach behind the house, where he could observe.
The women passed less than a minute in pleasantries, then Beckie said, “Why did you sign it without having Rou, Mrs. Go, review it?”
The next seven minutes were filled with, first, the funeral taking everyone’s attention, and second and more important, Kerry had no recollection of seeing the clause. “I don’t know, Ms Jamse,” she said through tears, “I just don’t know. I swear it all looked straightforward.”
Beckie dropped to the sand, her focus on the waves splashing her feet. Her thought of a day earlier returned. “Where’s the contract? The original?”
Kerry scrunched round in the sand to stare at her. “In the safe, unless Mrs. Go has it out. Why?”
“I want to see what Else can tell me about it.”
A moment of silence broken only by the sound of the waves passed before Kerry said, “I don’t understand. Else… Ms Meyer? What can she tell you?”
Beckie laid back on the sand, gazing at the stars. “Maybe if it’s been tampered with. I don’t know. It just seems funny, somehow. You’ve been doing this for years, three anyway. I’m unconvinced that you’d have missed it.”
“Well, Mrs. Go doesn’t find it hard to believe!” Kerry fell back to lie beside Beckie.
“Why is that? What’s in your past that might predispose her to not give you the doubt?”
Not for the first time, Kerry’s silence was deafening. Beckie was considering whether she should just head back and let things fall where they would. After all, if she can’t help me help her, who can? That concept didn’t please her; she pulled her pony tail out from behind her and fussed with it.
The stars hadn’t moved perceptibly when Kerry rolled to her side, facing Beckie. “About two years ago, I guess, Sam and I were… not dating, exactly, but going around together, spending weekends and all.”
“Sam?” Couldn’t be Sam Dabron, surely; he hadn’t been around enough.
“Sam Muir. One of Ms Meyer’s engineers. He’s back at school, now, finishing his Masters degree. Anyway, we got to talking and I was…” She rolled onto her belly and laid her head on her hands. She heaved a sigh. “Crap. I was talking about stuff I had no business talking about, especially to him since we didn’t work together. And he must have said something because Mrs. Go called me into her office and read me the riot act. She said I’d better never do that again. And I haven’t. But this was just as bad, I guess.”
“Maybe. Depends on what you were talking to Sam about. This will cost between five hundred and seven hundred fifty thousand euros unless we can figure how to fix it.” She reached over and shoved Kerry’s hip. “You’ve had the hand-to-hand training, right?”
“With Ms Rios? Uh—”
“If she’s ‘Ms Rios,’ you haven’t.” Beckie smiled. “How’d you get by even the first six months without it? We require it for a reason, you know.”
Kerry rolled and shuffled until she was on her belly again, facing Beckie. “Mrs. Go gave me assignments that interfered… Though, I guess I’d better be honest… she didn’t know they interfered.”
“Nice try,” Beckie said as she sat up and pushed Kerry’s head into the sand. “She knew. It’s one of her responsibilities to make sure her team has the training. I guess you lucked out when we were attacked here.” She rubbed her arm where the fixator had been installed for four terrible weeks.
“I was home then, so yeah. I didn’t get back til that Sunday, and all the stories…”
“I’m sure some of them were true. Anyway, that’s why you learn… or you’re supposed to learn. Now, however, it may have saved your life, not being trained.”
“Oh? Why?”
Beckie rose then dropped to sit on Kerry’s butt. As she landed, she grabbed the shirt’s collar and yanked it up against the woman’s throat, using enough force that the top buttons popped. Before Kerry reacted, Beckie drove her shoulder into Kerry’s back just above the shoulder blades, forcing her face into the sand and popping the last button. Beckie snatched the shirt off Kerry’s back and used a sleeve to tie her hands, finishing by rolling her onto her back with her hands behind her. She grabbed Kerry’s throat and squeezed, just enough to signal her presence.
“That’s why. Elena might even have been happy with my restraint in this case… no, she’d complain that you had no training—”
Kerry’s voice croaked, “I’ll complain I have no training!”
Beckie relaxed. “None of that fake ‘I’m so misused’ stuff with me. You’re the one mana
ged to weasel out of the training when it was scheduled.”
“But…”
“But what?” Beckie used her hands to wipe the sand off Kerry’s face before getting off and kneeling beside her, helping her to sit up. She untied the hands and used the ruined shirt to finish the face wiping, then she tossed it up the beach in the direction of a trash can.
“You ruined your shirt.”
“If it saves your life, it’s worth it. I can get a new shirt. Or even go without, a lotta places. You, I can maybe, eventually, find someone to fill your shoes. Cost a lot more than a new shirt. And the shirt doesn’t make me visit its parents or siblings or kids or friends and tell them what happened to it, why it came home in a box.”
Kerry’s eyes were white all around, her breathing was unsteady.
“Nice bra,” Beckie said, more to break the mood than actually admire the undergarment that she’d made an outer garment.
It worked. With a gasp, Kerry glanced down at her chest, then swung her gaze to meet Beckie’s. She looked back down, and pushed and pulled it back into place. As she reached up to touch her face, Beckie stopped her. “Split lip and cut high on the cheek.” She touched near the two areas gently. “Com’on. Time for a trip to Millie’s place.”
As they travelled, Beckie continued, “Assuming after my little overzealous display, you still want to be part of the group, being beat-up and all…”
Kerry stopped to gape, but only for a moment. “Were you serious about… people dying? And you have to explain?”
“Uh-huh. Not the part of the job that gets described on the head-hunters’ web sites, but yeah.”
“Then I can forgive you. Yes, if I can, after this, if Mrs. Go will have me again…”
“I’ll be honest. She’s leaning the other way, now, and I’m not going to overrule her on her staff. I’ll talk to her in the morning. If I can’t change her mind, she’ll dismiss you. But if you want, I’ll put you somewhere else, doing other work. But the first knowing mistake you make, you’ll be out of here so fast that you won’t need a plane.”
“What do you mean, ‘knowing mistake’?”
“Everybody makes mistakes, errors. What you need to watch out for are things you do that, if you’d spent a second’s thought before, you’d know you shouldn’t. Like pillow-talking to Sam—”
“I never!”
Beckie almost laughed at the color in the girl’s face, but decided that wouldn’t be politic. “Sorry. I just assumed, and that’s something I shouldn’t have done. So strike the ‘pillow’ and keep the rest. Is that clear?” Beckie waited until Kerry turned and nodded her head. “I or Rou or Willie or a bunch of other people will be glad to help before the fact, but after, it’ll be too late. Understand that, too?”
They reached the hospital door and pushed through. Inside, one of the nurses listened to Beckie explain how Kerry’d walked into her fist and with a smile, patched the girl up.
“After you meet with Rou, go to my place. If I’m not there, ask Boynton to call Elena and ask her to meet us.” She sucked on her lip for a second. “Ask him to get Willie, too.” She gave her a quick side hug. “We’ll decide then.”
At nine Saturday morning, Beckie strode into Rou Go’s office. After greetings, Beckie accepted a bottle of water rather than coffee, then said, “Tell me three things, please: Why you should get rid of Kerry; why you shouldn’t get rid of Kerry, and what’s your rationale for the first? Her history, maybe?”
Rou spent a half hour saying in answer to the first and third questions that she’d lost confidence in the woman, and explaining much the same story that Kerry had spun the night before. “As to why we should keep her… She’s a hard worker, except for these, miscues, I guess, talented and intelligent. And we’ve already invested in her.”
“Any reason you didn’t turn her in for not attending the combat training classes?”
Rou blushed and looked away. “Two reasons, I think. I didn’t… I was worried about her size. I mean, she’s so small…”
Beckie laughed. “Yeah, and I’m sooo much bigger. What’s the other reason?”
“I hoped she wouldn’t ever need them. Lousy thinking, I guess, but—”
“Yes, I have to agree. Go back over the others’ records and make sure they’re up to date, please, before the end of the day. I’ll ask Elena to see you tomorrow, if anyone else has been… overlooked.” Rou nodded. “Now. I sense you’re not going to be comfortable with Kerry on your staff. I’m not going to demand you keep her, but… Can you accept my putting her on other tasks? That don’t involve the work she was doing?”
Rou leaned back and fussed with her thumb for a second. “I guess. It’ll be awkward…”
“It will, but that’s not the reason I’m doing it. You’ll have to meet with her, tell her your decision, then send her to me. It’s on you to make it clear what she’s done to lose your confidence, and give her a path to winning it back, if she can.” Beckie leaned forward to place her hands on the desk. “Can you do that?”
“Will you watch her? I’m still concerned she’s… flighty, I think. She doesn’t always think things through, and that’s why I’m uncomfortable.”
Beckie stood and went to the window. “She’s on a short leash, with no margin for error. I hope… I hope if she comes to you for help or advice, you’ll give her your best.” She turned back and fixed Rou with a stern gaze. “As you would anyone.” She went toward the door. “Elena’s beating her down will maybe make her rethink her lack of planning in the past; I’ll remind her of that… constantly.”
“I can support that program as long as you can.”
“Good. Call her over and let’s get started. She’s supposed to be at my place after.” She opened the door. “And thanks.”
“No. Except for the… talk with Kerry, you’ve made my day, so, thank you.”
Beckie, Elena and Boynton were laughing about Beckie’s way of dealing with personnel issues when Boynton stopped and stared out the window. “I believe,” he said, “that a certain diminutive red-headed lady is approaching the dock.”
Beckie looked at the clock. “Five minutes before I expected her, too. Good job. Elena, go down, introduce yourself and bring her to the lanai. Maurice, coffee, if you don’t mind?”
Feet up on the table, Beckie sipped her decaf and then smiled as Kerry came through the doorway, followed by Elena. “I saw Willie coming up from Sud. Another five minutes or so.”
Beckie nodded, but her focus was on Kerry. The woman looked even more like a girl this morning. Since Beckie was sure she’d dressed to the nines for her interview with Rou, she’d changed to slightly more casual: khaki shorts and a white tee shirt. Unlike the night before, her auburn hair was down, just shoulder length. No make-up, which reinforced the youthful image. Sneakers and footie socks completed the picture.
“Have some coffee or juice or soda while we wait for Willie.”
Once Willie had settled himself, Beckie said, “We’re here to discuss Kerry’s… well, it wouldn’t be wrong to say rehabilitation. Unless Rou changed her mind?”
“No, I don’t think so. ‘You are dismissed,’ she said, ‘until…’ until I learn to think before acting.”
Beckie gave her a sympathetic smile. “We don’t need all of us to beat that into the ground. Elena, you’re here to plan how to train her in hand-to-hand. Willie, you too. She managed to skate by all the required sessions. Lena, Rou may have others; she’ll talk to you in the morning, and I’ll be checking the records with her, see if anyone else needs the training, too.”
“I’ll take her down to the beach in a minute,” Elena said. “First, what’s the goal? I mean, she’s not signed up for front line work, is she?”
“If she’s willing, and wants to do the work, and doesn’t screw up, I wasn’t thinking front line, but support. Of course, support sometimes becomes front line, so don’t go easy. With that in mind, while you’re working the shit out of her, she’s going to be responsible for Solène.�
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Elena’s expression left little doubt about her opinion. “I don’t know…”
“Oh, come on now,” Beckie said. “The fifteen year-old sex-crazed French-Arabian beauty and the twenty-some accountant slash paralegal? A perfect match for both of them!” Beckie snickered as both Elena and Kerry’s mouths dropped open.
Elena recovered first, but she said nothing; instead, she fetched herself another coffee and took a sip. “You, girl,” she said to Kerry, “go ask Boynton for some of his 50 year-old Glenfiddich single malt. You deserve to taste it once before you die.” She laughed; Kerry’s expression had drooped even more. “Even if you managed to avoid my classes up til now.” She drank the coffee off and said to Beckie, “I’m not sure that Solène’s as bad as you imply, but Kerry won’t be alone, right?” While Beckie considered a response, Elena said to Kerry, “Beckie’s sometimes a little, like, throw the baby off the dock; he’ll figure out how to swim soon enough.”
“No, that’s not me, believe it or not. Elena exaggerates… slightly. Yes, she’ll have more back-up than she wants. Be careful of her lip and cheek, where I split them last night.”
Beckie was impressed by the black look Elena gave her. “If you are going to keep beating people up, you’re going to have me to answer to. I’ll get Sam back here to help. There is no excuse for damaging a girl who knows nothing about self-defense that she didn’t learn from her brother or boyfriend.”
“But…” Beckie stopped; she knew she had no defense.
“But nothing, damn it! Don’t do it if you can’t figure out the right level of effort. Whether it’s Lisa or Amy or Kerry here, they’re not ready to fight to the death just so you get a workout or relieve your own guilt—” She stopped short. “Sorry. That was no more appropriate than what you did to Kerry.”
“Don’t apologize for calling a spade a spade. The fact that it hurts doesn’t make it wrong. We’ll talk later; right now, take her down to the beach and begin. If you want some clothes you can ruin, Kerry?”
