Murder by Proxy

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Murder by Proxy Page 8

by Suzanne Young


  “Thinks she's going to marry him, most likely. All his assistants have thought that,” the blonde woman said, but Edna had no time to respond as she was led into a hallway behind the large partition. A corridor led off to both left and right, but the only doors visible were another double set of glass in front of them. Letting go of Edna's arm, the sales supervisor opened the right-hand panel and motioned Edna to precede her into a large room filled with computer desks and buzzing with the activity of ringing phones and conversations.

  “These are our telemarketers.” Marcie gestured at the room as she strode forward.

  Except for a few curious looks as the two women walked by, most eyes stayed focused on the computer screens before them. Here and there a miniature stuffed animal or action figure sat atop a monitor, and several desks sported a plant or two, the only color in an otherwise brown and beige room. Marcie moved to an office at the end of the room, unlocked it and ushered Edna inside.

  Speculating as to why Marcie might need to lock her door, she walked into the supervisor's office. One wall was almost floor-to-ceiling glass with a view of an inner courtyard. “What a lovely place to work,” she exclaimed, crossing the room.

  Water lilies floated in a round pool where a column of water shot up from the center. Droplets sparkled in the sunshine as gravity pulled the beads down again to splash the surface. She could see spots of color move about beneath the greenery and thought they must be the bright orange and yellow carp so popular in garden ponds these days.

  “Thank you. I have to admit, the fountain is particularly soothing.” Marcie tossed her handbag and keys on an armchair next to her desk and motioned to the leather sofa against the opposite wall. Striding to a credenza and picking up a thermal carafe, she raised it toward Edna questioningly. “Would you like a cup of coffee? Grant might be a while.”

  Edna was still inwardly marveling at her luck at having a private conversation with Anita's supervisor. Full from lunch, she wanted nothing else to put into her stomach. What she said aloud was, “That would be very nice. Thank you.”

  “I met your husband last week.” Marcie came to sit on the sofa beside Edna, carefully putting cups and saucers on the low table before them.

  “Oh? Was he here in the office?”

  “Yes. Grant was showing him around, and I ran into them,” Marcie grimaced, “literally. I was racing to my office to catch a call. Went dashing around that darned partition behind the reception desk and almost knocked Albert onto his backside.”

  Edna laughed along with Marcie at the mental picture she had conjured up.

  “Honestly, I keep telling them that wall is an accident waiting to happen, but it's supposed to be the latest thing in office décor.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you I thought your husband was charming, such a gentleman.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  Marcie was looking at her from the corner of an eye as she sipped coffee, a look that made Edna realize Marcie hadn't invited her to the office solely for the seating comfort. Grant's co-worker had ulterior motives. Well, that was okay, so did Edna.

  “How many people do you supervise?” she nodded toward the door to the telemarketing pool.

  “Twenty inside sales staff, but I have another twelve out in the field.” Marcie spoke proudly of her domain.

  “Grant was telling me that Anita Collier is a member of your sales staff. That could be difficult, I imagine, having your boss's wife work for you.” Edna hoped her comment sounded sympathetic.

  “He might not be my boss much longer.” Marcie reached to return her coffee cup to the table before settling back into the soft leather of the couch.

  Here was a second subordinate of Rice Ryan's to hint at a change in the company. “Are you going to work for someone else?”

  “I hope so.” Marcie's smile didn't reach her eyes as she stretched an arm across the back of the sofa and half turned toward Edna. “Grant hasn't told you?” she asked after a brief pause during which she studied Edna's face.

  “Tell me what?”

  “The company is in a state of flux right now. Our CEO recently announced his retirement, and our board of directors is interviewing for his replacement. Rice is one of the applicants, but so are Peter White and two men from outside the company. If Rice doesn't get the job, I think he'll quit. If he does get it, I know I'll quit.”

  “I have an idea that would be a shame,” Edna hurried to say. “I have the impression you know a great deal about the business. How long have you worked for Office Plus?”

  Marcie seemed to perk up at the compliment. “Sixteen years next month.”

  “Did you start as a telemarketer? Is that the natural progression?”

  “Typically, but no. I started as Rice's secretary. That's what the position was called back then, and that's when he was Director of Operations.”

  “Oh. I don't know why, but I had the idea he hadn't been that long with the company?”

  “Sixteen years, same as me. I interviewed for the secretarial position right after Office Plus hired him away from some company in Chicago. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven when he offered me the job. Guess I was bowled over by his charm and good looks.” She made a face. “How stupid we can be when we're young.”

  Remembering Marcie's comment about Rice's assistants, Edna said, “Are you one of the secretaries he was going to marry?”

  “Sure am.” Frowning, Marcie leaned forward to pick up her cup and take a sip of coffee, not meeting Edna's eyes. “But that's old news.”

  “Do you mind my asking what happened?”

  She surprised herself, asking such a personal question of someone she'd just met. At first she didn't think Marcie was going to answer, but after several moments of fiddling with her cup and saucer, the other woman sat back. “The man can't keep his eyes or hands at home. Every woman he meets seems to be a challenge until he gets her into bed. Then it's „Good-bye, Sweetie. Don't let the door hit ya on the way out.'”

  “He's like that with everybody?” She was thinking of Anita, the one woman he'd finally married.

  “Rice uses people. He's a manipulator. One minute, you think you're the only one he cares about, and then wham! It's over, and you never knew what hit you.” She bent forward, elbows resting on her knees, studying her fingertips. Marcie seemed to be looking into the past, speaking more to herself than to Edna. “If you ask me, the only thing that man cares about is money. It's for sure he has no respect for women.”

  “I've had friends tell me similar stories about men they've known. What makes them flit from woman to woman like that, do you suppose?”

  “I don't know. What I do know about Rice is that he grew up in a poor neighborhood in Chicago. Now that he has money and a certain amount of power with his position in the company, he likes to strut. I think a woman to him is just something pretty to dangle on his arm. Like I said, he sees a pretty face and he's got to have it, but once he's conquered her, she doesn't mean a thing anymore.”

  Edna tucked the information about Rice's background away in her head to tell Ernie when she saw him next. To Marcie, she said, “But he married Anita. Sounds like he changed, at least for a little while.” She wondered if perhaps Marcie was jealous and angry that she hadn't been Rice's choice for a wife. Unbidden, a new thought popped into her mind and she wondered if Rice knew about the money Anita's father, and now Anita herself, would inherit. As soon as the idea entered her head, Edna dismissed it. How could he possibly know when Anita herself didn't?

  “Yeah, go figure,” Marcie said, breaking into Edna's thoughts. “I'd have bet that if the time ever came for Rice to settle down, he'd have married for money or social position, at least. Anita makes a good salary but not as good as mine. Her parents didn't leave much of an estate, and although they were well-known and terrific people, they weren't members of Denver's elite, not by a long shot.” She hesitated before adding, “I find it hard to believe, though, that it was love. The only person Rice has ever loved
is himself.”

  “If you're right, he's probably a very lonely person,” Edna said, uncertain how to reply to this woman who obviously had been deeply hurt by Rice Ryan. She wondered that Marcie seemed to harbor so much resentment for the man, yet still worked for him. But she wanted to talk about Anita and the present, not about Marcie's past. “I understand the marriage hasn't lasted very long. Grant says Anita's going to file for divorce.”

  Marcie's frown deepened. “I hadn't heard that. According to Rice, Anita's been upset over losing her parents so suddenly, but she and Rice are getting back together. As a matter of fact, I think he's trying to force me out so he can give her my job.” She snorted. “First, he sets her up in a territory that insures she'll be out of town most of the time, probably to make it easier for him to cheat on her, and now, he wants her in the office. He won't have nearly the freedom he's used to.” Her laugh held no amusement before she said, “I wonder how Brea's going to feel about that.”

  Edna spoke her next thoughts aloud. “The CEO of a large company would have social obligations, I'd imagine. Perhaps Rice realizes he needs his wife around if he's to be a leader in the community. A divorce could hurt him, maybe even ruin his chances of getting the promotion.”

  Marcie stared at her as if the idea came as a surprise. “That's right. He hasn't gotten the job yet, by God.” Then, her look softened as she straightened up and leaned slightly toward Edna in a conspiratorial pose. “Look, Edna, since Grant apparently hasn't had time to discuss all this with you, I'll fill you in on what's about to happen.” Edna raised an eyebrow in question but didn't respond, so Marcie went on. “As part of the search process for the new CEO, all of us mid-level managers in the company have been asked to give our input. As a group we'll have a chance next week to talk to each of the candidates and give our impressions to the board.”

  Edna pulled back slightly to get a better look into Marcie's eyes, trying to gauge her intentions. “It sounds like a good idea. Is that a common practice for businesses?”

  Marcie scoffed. “Not hardly. I think Steve, our outgoing president, suggested it, and the board is going along to please him. I have a feeling Rice has convinced Steve that most of the employees support him. Support Rice, that is.”

  “And you don't think that's the case.” She made it a statement rather than a question as she noticed the disgust on Marcie's face.

  “I think he's on a campaign to get internal votes. He wouldn't dare approach me. He already knows how I feel. I have wondered, though, if he's been talking to Grant.” At this, she looked meaningfully at Edna.

  “Grant hasn't mentioned any of this to me, but I haven't gotten the impression that he is particularly fond of Rice. If I had to guess, I'd say Grant resents the way Rice has treated Anita.” Edna tried to draw Marcie's attention back to her particular interest, but the woman seemed intent on her own agenda.

  “I bet anything Rice is dangling the directorship of the computer department under Grant's nose.” Marcie gave another sneer. “He'll promise the world, but he'll never deliver. I know that from personal experience.”

  “Have you told Grant what you're telling me?”

  “I've tried, but I don't think he believes me. He probably thinks it's sour grapes coming from me.”

  Edna thought for a minute. “How does Anita feel about Rice becoming CEO? I mean, has she spoken to you about it?”

  “This has all come about only in the last few weeks. I haven't talked to Anita since her parents' funeral.”

  This last bit was something Edna had hoped to find out and she felt excitement quicken her heartbeat. Outwardly, however, she frowned, feigning confusion. “But I thought she worked for you.”

  Surprisingly, Marcie smiled and seemed to relax, laying aside her fight with Rice for the moment. She was obviously on more comfortable ground when it came to the details of her job. “I'm not the type of manager who hovers. My people know what I expect of them and they do it or they move on to another company. Simple as that.”

  Edna was taken aback at the callousness with which Marcie could dismiss another person's livelihood. “It's one thing not to hover, but I would think you would have to be in contact your sales people on a regular basis. Have you heard from her at all?”

  “At her parents' funeral, I told her to take some time off. After that, I assume she went back to work. I admit, though, I am surprised she didn't show up for Lia's service.” Marcie shrugged. “But then, she may have felt she couldn't handle another funeral so soon after her parents'.”

  “So you aren't concerned that you haven't heard from her?”

  “Not particularly. It's not unusual. I don't have much contact with my field personnel unless their sales are down. That definitely isn't the case with Anita.”

  “She never calls in to the office?”

  “Not unless there's a problem.”

  “What about actual sales? I don't know much about how businesses operate, but doesn't she have to let someone in the office know if she makes a new sale or something?” She thought Anita would have to have spoken to somebody in the office during the last several weeks.

  Marcie laughed. “You should ask Grant about that. He's done a great job of automating the process for us. Everyone in the field carries a laptop computer. Sales are recorded and downloaded to our main database. We receive orders all day long. Grant has two full-time people who monitor the orders and another to make sure our communication lines stay up.”

  Edna shook her head. “I'm afraid this is way over my head.”

  Marcie was obviously pleased to explain. “All our customers have standing orders. They're what we call blanket orders that are filled on a regular basis. Nobody has to contact this office unless they want to change an order. Most of our customers log in themselves to make any necessary revision before the next consignment is scheduled to ship. It's all done over the Internet.”

  Edna was still skeptical about the personnel issues. “How do you know if someone is still working for you? How do you know they haven't quit and gone to work for another company?”

  Marcie yielded slightly. “Actually, I usually do hear at least once a week from most of my people when they're in the field. In any case, I have a mandatory monthly staff meeting. As a matter of fact, there's one scheduled for next Friday, a week from today. Anita will show up for that. If not, she's got to call in and give me a darn good reason why she won't be here.”

  Edna did a quick mental calculation. “If you haven't seen her since the funeral, she must have missed the last meeting.”

  “That was shortly after I told her to take some time off. I didn't expect her to attend last month. As I said, her sales have been outstanding this year, so I wasn't concerned when she didn't show up or call in. I doubt she'll skip another, though. If I do say so, the meetings are very informative and inspiring.”

  Edna felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Why hadn't anyone told her this before? Anita would be here next Friday. Certainly, Grant should have known. Why hadn't he simply told this to Ernie? Thinking of the detective, she felt elated over the good news she would have for him. At most, Ernie would have only six more days to wait before he could speak to Anita.

  Looking at her watch, she was surprised to see it was nearly two-thirty. She had to be back at the house by three o'clock when Jillian got home. She was about to say as much to Marcie when a knock sounded on the door and Grant poked his head in.

  “Sorry I got waylaid.”

  Marcie waved a hand for him to enter. “That's okay. Your mother and I had a great chat, didn't we, Edna?”

  Edna smiled, rose from the couch and extended her hand to the other woman. “A very nice visit. Thank you, Marcie.”

  Grant escorted Edna out of the building, apologizing that he hadn't gotten away from Peter in time to give her a tour of the plant.

  “Marcie was telling me about Rice and Peter vying for the CEO position,” she said as they headed toward the visitors' parking area. �
��Which one do you hope will get the job?”

  “I get along okay with both of them,” Grant said, noncommittally, as he shoved his hands into his pants pockets and walked with his head down. After a slight pause, he added, “I imagine she gave you an earful about Rice.”

  “As a matter of fact, she did. She says her days will be numbered if Rice is chosen to head the company.”

  “She probably doesn't really care who gets it. According to the grape vine, Marcie's already job hunting. I don't think it will take her long to find something else. She's good at what she does. Too bad she got involved with Rice back when. She's blamed him for her lack of promotions ever since, but I think it's her attitude that's done most of the damage. Maybe it'll be good for her to move on.” They'd arrived at the car by that time, and he opened the door for her before turning hurriedly to stride back to the building.

  Leaving the parking lot, she stopped for a car that was pulling out of a space farther down the row. Driving by the newly emptied slot, she noticed a shiny black coupe with darkly tinted windows driving down the next lane, parallel to her. It looked exactly like the one she had seen in Grant's neighborhood yesterday.

  She was puzzling over the coincidence when the blast of a horn startled her attention back to her own driving where she was drifting to the left, heading toward another vehicle that was approaching the visitors' parking area. She swerved back to avoid a head-on collision and, heart pounding, managed to exit the lot without further incident and without spotting the black car again.

  On the way home, she glanced several times in the rearview mirror, wondering if she was being followed. Ridiculous, she thought with a shake of her head. Why would anyone be tailing me? “I must stop being so paranoid,” she muttered, as her eyes strayed once more to the rearview mirror.

 

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