The Precipice

by Penny Goetjen

  As Elizabeth made her way down the hall, she could hear a male voice in the conference room that was coming up on her left. She slowed her pace when she recognized that it was Drescher. Her eyes widened when she realized she had not remembered to grab her portfolio before she left Maine. She had nothing to show him. Nothing to prove she was working hard on his new project even while she was away. Panic was rising up inside her. As she quickened her pace to get past the conference room, she heard him say, “You and I both know that this is going to happen the way I want it to. We also both know that there will be serious consequences if it does not.” Elizabeth wasn’t sure exactly what he had meant by that but she kept walking, with her eyes forward, without hearing the rest of the conversation. She desperately hoped that he hadn’t noticed her walking past the doorway. Once inside the security of her private office, she turned her attention to the stack of little pink phone messages on her desk.

  Her office was decorated with a modern, updated feel. Since it was not on an outside wall, there were no windows, but it was still bright and airy with light-colored grass cloth wallpaper. A light wood desk and credenza with sleek lines took up most of the space. There was also a small round work table framed by two chairs in one corner. Abstract prints were tastefully hung on three of the walls. An open concept shelving unit occupied the fourth.

  Once her laptop booted up, she busied herself with picking up emails. As she scrolled through the long list of unopened mail, it dawned on her that one of her first priorities needed to be replacing her cell phone. It had been a welcomed relief not having one since the hurricane. No calls from a persistent client and, better yet, no calls from her obnoxious boss. But she knew she needed to get one as soon as possible now that she was back in the city and back to work.

  Just when she had decided it was probably time to go check in with Vera, Sara, the receptionist, stuck her head in the doorway. “Elizabeth, so glad to see you are back and I was sorry to hear about your grandmother. Not what you were expecting from a weekend away, I’m sure. Listen, I can’t hold her off any longer. When you get a chance…well as soon as you can, Vera would like to see you in her office.”

  Elizabeth looked intently into her face, shaking her head slightly. “How the hell did she know I was here already?” She turned away, not expecting an answer. They both new that Vera had this uncanny sense of what went on at Loran Design. It was almost creepy. Elizabeth’s stomach turned over. She couldn’t procrastinate any longer. She swallowed hard and nodded to Sara. “Okay, I understand. I’ll be right there.” She closed her eyes and bent her head toward her desk, resting her elbow on the surface and rubbing her forehead with the fingers on her left hand.

  She stood, took a deep breath, and headed for the door of her office. She tried to walk down the hall as tall and as confidently as possible. She had to pass the conference room that Drescher was occupying and then make her way through the lobby to get to Vera’s office, but she held her head high. She entered Vera’s open doorway, raising her fist to knock lightly on her open door. She looked in and, to Elizabeth’s surprise, she could see that Vera was not at her desk, but decided to wait for her anyway. After all, she had garnered the courage to approach her so she wasn’t going to waste the energy that had taken. She glanced around the dark and somewhat depressing office. The venetian blinds were turned upward which minimized the amount of outside light that entered the room. The furnishings were modern but dark. Vera’s deep mahogany desk was the focal point in the room and was facing the door. There was a matching credenza behind it, up against the wall. There were a couple pieces of artwork on the walls that were post-impressionistic prints and a small sculpture on a pedestal in front of the two windows that looked out onto the streets of Manhattan. Elizabeth noticed one of Vera’s skinny, brown cigarettes smoldering in a cheap black plastic ashtray on her desk. A wisp of smoke snaked its way upward, disappearing five or six inches above its source.

  On the credenza was Vera’s purse. It was a signature satchel bag by Louis Vuitton and was partially open. A small brown container sat next to it. Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide. Without looking around, she headed past Vera’s desk. It was a prescription bottle with a small white child-proof twist off cap. Her heart started to beat faster. She picked it up and turned the bottle in her hand so she could read the label. Zoloft. She turned when she heard Vera’s voice.

  “Hello, Elizabeth. So good to see you. I was so sorry to hear about your grandmother.” Vera was sporting a mauve-colored suit in raw silk, matching two-toned stilettos, and the customary bulges in the jacket pockets that were her pack of cigarettes and lighter.

  Elizabeth turned to look into her boss’s face, still holding the bottle.

  Vera’s eyes moved to the bottle in her employee’s hand and then back to her face. Her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed. “Can I help you with some—?”

  “It was you!” Elizabeth couldn’t believe her boss was involved with what just happened at the inn.

  Vera look puzzled. “Whatever are you talking about Elizabeth?”

  “You know exactly what I mean!” She couldn’t believe her boss was denying her involvement. Elizabeth was breathing rapidly as she walked directly toward Vera, holding the prescription bottle out in front of her. “How could you? What the hell was in it for you?” Her voice was getting louder with each sentence. “You murdered my grandmother.” Elizabeth’s face was so close to her that her boss was becoming very uncomfortable. For once, their roles were reversed.

  Vera’s mouth fell open. If she was feigning surprise, she was a very good actress. “Elizabeth, I can assure you I have no idea what you are talking about!” Her voice matched the volume of Elizabeth’s. “Think about what you are saying.” Her voice became much quieter and gentler, which was uncharacteristic for Vera. “I know you must be very upset about your grandmother and I’m very sorry that it happened. Truly I am. But I don’t think you really know what you’re saying right now. Maybe you came back to work too soon. If you need to take more time, take it. We’ll just forget this whole conversation happened.” She paused and searched Elizabeth’s face for any clue as to what she was thinking. A look of concern spread across her face.

  Elizabeth took a couple steps back. She was overwhelmed with emotion. Her head was spinning. The situation had turned surreal. She had just made an incredible, unthinkable accusation. She rubbed her forehead with the fingers of her empty hand. Without acknowledging she knew what she was doing, she placed the prescription bottle on Vera’s desk and started moving toward the door, brushing past her boss as she went. Her eyes were glazed and fixed on the door. She staggered slightly and put one hand out to steady herself in her boss’s doorway.

  Vera remained quiet, watched her gather herself, and then head through the doorway.

  Elizabeth’s head was pounding as she walked down the hall with a purpose. She needed to put as much distance between her and her boss. She was in such a fog, she didn’t notice if Drescher was still in the conference room when she passed. Once inside her office, she closed the door behind her and braced herself against it. She wished the door had a lock on it. Her mind was racing and she was feeling terribly alone. She wasn’t sure what to think, where to turn or what to do next. Suddenly the phone on her desk started ringing. She jumped and her eyes widened. She wasn’t sure if she should answer it. It rang just a few times but it seemed like it went on forever. Elizabeth was frozen in place at the door. Finally, the ringing stopped. She took in a deep breath and let it out. It crossed her mind that her office phone was her only means of communication with anyone on the outside since she didn’t have a cell. She couldn’t decide what her next step should be. The clock on her credenza was ticking loudly in her quiet office. It seemed to echo like it had never done before. She needed to think. She was paralyzed by indecision. Finally, only one thing came to mind. She pulled herself away from the door, turned and pulled it open s
lightly so it was ajar, flipped the light switch into the “off” position and then walked around to the other side of her desk. She pulled her chair part of the way out and slid herself into place under the desk and then pulled the chair back in as far as it would go. She settled in with her back up against one side of the desk, with her legs pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around them. It was a dark, but familiar place.

  ____________

  Kurt closed his flip phone. His forehead was creased. He was worried because he really needed to reach Elizabeth, but could not. Her cell phone was ruined and there was no answer at her office extension. He was afraid that she could be in danger. He tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and climbed in behind the wheel.

  Chapter 33

  Elizabeth was trying to keep her breathing steady and quiet. She didn’t know how long she could stay where she was but she needed time to think. Time to get her head straightened out. What had just happened in her boss’s office seemed more like a nightmare than anything real.

  Suddenly the light was switched on in her office. She jumped and held her breath, listening for footsteps. Someone was walking around her office, not making much noise at all on the carpet. Elizabeth watched to see if any feet came into view from her perspective down under. Finally a shoe came into view. It was a man’s shoe. Black. It took everything she had to stifle a gasp. Then the second shoe moved next to the first. They were pointing towards her credenza. Elizabeth was holding her breath. She placed her hand over her mouth and nose to help her keep from making a sound. She had a feeling that she knew who the shoes belonged to and was hoping he would just leave her office. Then came the voice from the doorway.

  “That’s Elizabeth and her grandmother.” It was Vera. She sounded like she was standing in the doorway. Elizabeth surmised that the male she was talking to must be looking at her photos on the credenza. Then she heard the sound of the frame being returned to its original location. She felt so uncomfortable that someone was handling something of hers that was so personal. The photo had been taken many years ago when her grandmother attended her college graduation, a very special occasion that she felt so fortunate to have been able to share with her.

  Then came the second voice. “Very sweet.”

  This confirmed her suspicion that it was Drescher with Vera.

  Finally, the shoes left her field of vision and made their way back to her office door.

  “I’m sure she hasn’t gone far.”

  “Well, her office was dark so maybe she has already left.”

  “She just got here! She better not have left already. Especially if she didn’t tell me first!”

  Elizabeth cringed at hearing Vera’s voice. She was starting to perspire. She was feeling trapped, totally unsure of what was going on.

  Someone extinguished the light in her office and their voices continued down the hall out of range of her ears. She held her breath again.

  She waited and listened. No sounds. No lights. No voices.

  It was so quiet that she felt like she was the only person in Loran Design. The only person in the building. Finally, she felt brave enough to scoot out from under the desk slightly. She peered over her desk to see if she could see anything in the hall. Nothing. She crawled back under the desk and waited some more. No one knew she was there. Still no sound except for the clock on her credenza. Tick. Tock. It was so loud. It sounded like the ticking was in her head. She wanted it to stop.

  Chapter 34

  She dozed in and out of sleep for a while. It was still dark in her office when she became lucid. She had no idea how long she had been there. Even if she could see the clock on her credenza from where she was, it was too dark to make out the time. She listened. She wasn’t sure what to do, although she was beginning to feel the need to escape her close quarters.

  She felt a nagging feeling that she needed to leave and find an alternate way out of the building, that someone would stop her if she took the usual route. She stood in her office, trying to think what to do next and decided that the safest way to exit would be down the back fire stairs. There was a main set of stairs but she really wanted to try to get out without anyone seeing her.

  She reached the door to the back stairs and quickly pushed it open. There were twenty-two stories to get down. This wasn’t the lighthouse at Pennington Point, but she had to get down to the bottom anyway.

  Elizabeth had to focus on getting to the bottom of the stairs safely. She hung onto the railing and kept her eyes on her feet as she descended the stairs. Her shoes made a clicking sound as she went. There were no other sounds in the stairwell. She kept going, watching the signs on the doors as she passed which displayed the floor number. 21…20…19…18…17…16. Even though she was moving with gravity, her legs were starting to get sore. She just ignored them and kept moving. 15…14…13…12. She had to stop briefly and catch her breath. Her legs felt wobbly. It crossed her mind that someone her age should not have trouble with this. It was time to make the gym a priority.

  Elizabeth pressed on. 11…10…9…8. She stopped again to take a breath and give her legs a break. She listened for a moment because she thought she heard a noise. All was quiet. Nothing. Then she heard it again. Footsteps above her. She gasped and started her feet again. She had eight stories to get down. She had to do it as fast as possible. She didn’t need to find out who was in the back stairs with her.

  7…6…5…4…3…So close to the bottom but she could hear the footsteps even louder. Who was in the stairs with her? She didn’t want to find out. She forced her legs to keep moving on to the second floor and finally the first. She pushed open the exit door and burst into an alley. Her feet stopped. She looked up and down. No one else had exited recently. No one was in sight. There were dumpsters scattered throughout the narrow passage that ran between her building and the one behind it. Frantically trying to think which way to go, she knew she needed to head toward Lexington Avenue. She looked in both directions again and finally decided to turn right. She ran as fast as her legs would take her. Halfway up the alley her left foot landed in a pothole and she started to roll her ankle. She pulled up on her right foot enough to catch herself and resume running. She thought she heard the exit door slam again, but didn’t take the time to look back.

  When she hit the sidewalk on Lexington, her eyes scanned the street looking for a taxi. She ran to the curb, waving her arm and whistling. A yellow cab pulled right up. A light rain was falling but she didn’t notice. She opened the back door to the cab and started to climb in. Suddenly there was a hand grabbing her arm. She gasped and tried to pull away.

  A familiar voice said, “Elizabeth, it’s me.”

  She stopped trying to pull away and instead, turned her body around, landing with her back against the side of the taxi. She looked into his eyes.

  “Kurt.” It took a few seconds for it to sink in that he was really standing there. She was so glad to see him. “What are you doing here? You’re a long way from Maine.” She smiled slightly.

  “I thought you might want to hear how our investigation turned out…and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” There was genuine concern in his eyes.

  Elizabeth looked up at him and smiled more broadly. Her suit jacket had spots of water on it and her hair was tussled from her run down the stairs. Kurt appeared amused by her unkempt look. So uncharacteristic for her.

  Elizabeth could sense he was noticing her unusual appearance and quickly became self-conscious. She ran her fingers through her hair to try to put it back into some sort of mediocre coiffure.

  Mitchell’s amusement turned to concern about her being wet. Elizabeth reassured him that she was fine. He gave her his jacket anyway. She started to protest but he insisted. She thought he was sweet.

  They walked across the street to a neighborhood bar, one that Vera and Elizabeth had visited on a few occasions, when he
r boss was trying to prime her with alcohol and find out what made her tick. It was Friday, barely midday but New York City was known for being alive any time of the day. Stir was a bar with an uptown, metro feel with contemporary lighting and seating. It was dark wood paneled with stools at the bar running along the left side of the room and small square tables scattered throughout which were mostly empty. Not quite up to a standard of fine, white table linens, but still a few steps up from the trashy McLendry’s Irish Pub a few doors down. The air was a bit stale, but tolerable and the canned music had a jazz flavor to it, which was not really her taste, but she could ignore it. They found a relatively quiet corner and ordered a round of drinks. The bar was known for its martini menu, but they stuck with their usuals, Pinot Grigio for her, Jack Daniels on the rocks for him. The standard basket of pretzels and dipping sauces were delivered along with the drinks. Elizabeth was exhausted but anxious to hear what Kurt had to say and happy to leave behind whomever was in the stairwell with her.

  They shared small talk between sips of their drinks but Elizabeth was anxious for him to get started. She pulled his jacket up closer around her shoulders and looked to him to begin the debriefing.

  “Elizabeth, you may find this hard to believe…” He found it difficult to just blurt it out.

  “Go on.” She was impatient and didn’t understand his hesitation. Her eyes implored him to continue.