Stratagem

by Robin Caroll

  “So you and Anna Belle had to escape a room?”

  Franklin shook his head. “Not this time. I was sent to another room downstairs, and Georgia was there. She was my partner this time around.”

  “No campaign to create, just a room to escape?” Danielle asked.

  “Yeah. You know, like the escape rooms you see around everywhere that you have to solve the clues and riddles to figure out how to get out. But these clues … they were personal stuff about me and Georgia. Stuff we didn’t know about each other. Secrets we didn’t want to share.”

  “Like?” Brandon asked.

  Franklin’s cheeks turned red and he lifted a casual shoulder. “Just personal stuff. Like dating stuff. Embarrassing things, that’s all.” He cleared his throat and stared at the floor. “We had two and a half hours to escape. We almost got out in time.”

  “You didn’t make it?” Danielle asked.

  Franklin shook his head. “The timer went off while we were still working on the last clue.”

  “So what happened?”

  “The timer buzzed, startling the both of us. I thought Georgia was going to cry. To be honest, I had no idea what was gonna happen. We just sat there feeling defeated, and then we heard the dead bolt click. I went over, and sure enough, the door was unlocked. Emmi was in the hallway and told us to go to our rooms and get ready for dinner. We were to be in the dining room at four thirty, and Tim would tell us which PR campaign had won.”

  “Did Anna Belle and Hugh have an escape room like you and Georgia?”

  “I don’t really know. Emmi told us to get ready for dinner, so I went to my room. I changed shirts and checked my cell, then Georgia started screaming. I followed the sound, and everyone was almost in Anna Belle’s room. Tim was performing CPR, and there were several people I didn’t know. Georgia was crying, and Emmi was hugging her. I asked them what happened, and Georgia said she’d found Anna Belle on the floor.” Franklin sat a little on the edge of the chair. “The ambulance came and took Anna Belle. It was surreal, you know?”

  “Did you know Anna Belle had an allergy to cherries?” Danielle asked.

  Franklin shook his head.

  “Did you know about Anna Belle’s common use of energy drinks?” Brandon asked.

  “Yeah. Everybody did. She used to keep them in the break room fridge but got all twisted out of shape one time when one came up missing. She was furious and accused everyone of taking it. From then on, she kept them on her desk.”

  “What happened after the ambulance left?” Brandon asked. “What did everybody do?”

  “Well, Tim started off to follow the ambulance. Emmi let go of Georgia and followed after him. Hugh said he was going to go to the hospital too.” Franklin shrugged. “I didn’t know the other folks, so I told Georgia we needed to go. We got our stuff, and I walked her out to her car to make sure she was okay, then I went home.”

  “Why did Hugh go to the hospital?” Brandon asked.

  “I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.” The animosity was almost undetectable.

  Almost.

  Danielle picked up the questioning, asking the next one quickly. “About what time did you leave?”

  “I guess about a quarter till five.”

  “Did you go to the hospital?”

  Franklin paused. “No. I mean, I figured with Tim and Emmi and Hugh there … well, somebody would let me know what was going on, you know?”

  Brandon nodded. “Did you hear from anybody else about the incident after you got home?”

  Franklin nodded. “Tim called Friday afternoon and told me Anna Belle had died. He said the police would probably call me, like you did.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Well, he explained that we’d all been in this game that Tim hired a company to create so the board could decide who to promote.” Franklin sat upright, his chin poking out. “I thought that was a little cheesy, if you ask me.”

  Interesting that Georgia said the decision was Tim’s but Franklin said it was the board’s. “Did you talk to anyone else? Besides Tim and me and my partner here?”

  “Nope.”

  Brandon slipped on a smile. “Is there anything else you can think of we might need to know?”

  “Well, Tim told me that the company he hired? Anna Belle’s ex-husband was one of the owners.” Franklin grinned and shook his head. “How messed up is that?”

  “What do you mean?” Heat tightened the back of Brandon’s neck.

  “Well everybody knew Tim and Anna Belle had had a thing. I’m guessing it was over, because Emmi and Tim seemed to have patched things up, and if they hadn’t, let’s be serious—Anna Belle would’ve been given the promotion without a game or anything. But then Tim goes and hires Anna Belle’s ex-husband’s company to create a game that she would play?” Franklin shook his head. “That’s like setting Anna Belle up for defeat.”

  Wasn’t that an understatement.

  SEVEN

  “Where have you been?” Pam jumped out of her SUV outside the cell phone store and popped her hands on her hips. “I was about to come looking for you.”

  “I had a visit from Anna Belle’s mother.” Grayson swallowed the smile at Pam’s slight self in what he was sure she thought was an intimidating stance. He shut the truck’s door and pressed the last two buttons on the keyless entry pad. The doors locked with a click.

  “Really?” Pam’s dark brown eyes widened. “How’d that go?”

  “Pretty good, actually. She’s working on making the arrangements and wanted my input.” He led the way to the store’s glass door, which swung open as soon as they approached.

  “Welcome. How may we assist you today?” the young man with an iPad in hand asked, while glancing to Pam’s hair, then back to his tablet before sneaking a peek at her hair again.

  Grayson took a moment to explain how his cell phone had escaped into a body of water and remained unrecovered, then provided his number and the information needed for the man to pull up his account.

  “Would you like to look at the newest version of the phone, sir?” the young man asked, still sneaking sideways glances at Pam.

  “I’d really just like the same phone I had. I know how it works.”

  “Of course, sir. Let me check your account and see if we have that same phone in stock. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay, spill.” Pam tugged Grayson toward one of the tall tables as soon as the salesman left. She hopped up onto the stool and settled on the seat.

  Grayson leaned against the table, propping his foot on the other stool’s rung and recounted his conversation with Monique, omitting some of the more personal information.

  “Wow. She sounds pretty awesome.”

  He nodded. “She was. Is.” He pushed away the regret at never having taken the time to get to know her. He’d listened to Anna Belle’s rants about her mother and her horrible childhood, and it had never occurred to him that Anna Belle would have embellished the relationship with her mother. He should have known better. In describing every relationship, Anna Belle twisted facts to make herself the victim.

  Grayson knew that better than most.

  Pam laid her hand gently on his arm. “Hey, you okay?”

  He nodded but knew he wasn’t really. So many regrets. So much history. “Just wishing I’d gotten to know her better before now.”

  “You’re in luck, sir, we still had your model in stock.” The young man had the box already open as he sat it on the table. “Would you like a new number with your new phone?”

  “No. The same, please.” He’d had the same number for almost two decades and had no intention of dealing with the hassle of changing it.

  Pam rolled her eyes at Grayson.

  “Easy peasy then, sir.” The young man pulled out the phone and began setting it up. “Do you back up online with your phone?”

  Grayson nodded.

  “Good. Then you’ll be able to pull all your apps and contacts and important stuff.” He handed t
he phone to Grayson. “If you’ll just type in your information, we’ll get you up and running in a jiffy.”

  Grayson did, then handed the phone back to the salesman.

  “It’ll take a few minutes to update. I’ll go check on removing your old phone from your account. Let me write down your account information again.” He did, then disappeared across the store.

  “So, you still want to run out to the rental house as soon as we’re done here?” Pam twisted on the stool.

  “I do. But if you don’t want—”

  “Don’t you dare finish that statement if it ends with you telling me I don’t have to come with you.” She gave him a hard stare. “I’m in all the way, so you can stop with all that.”

  He smiled, hoping it would disarm her frustration with him. He knew she meant what she said, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated in any way. Still, he wasn’t going to argue anymore. “Then, yes, I want to go there as soon as we leave here. What did Colton say when you called in today?”

  “Said he understood and asked how you were. Has he called you?”

  “No.” Which now that he thought about it, seemed odd. “Has he said anything to you about me?”

  Before she could reply, the salesman returned and checked the phone. “Looks like it’s done.” He handed it to Grayson. “If you’ll look it over and make sure all your important information is there.”

  Grayson scrolled through the apps and his contacts list. “It looks like everything’s here.”

  “Good. Your most recent voice mails and text messages will come through over the next several minutes.”

  Grayson nodded even as the phone vibrated the alert of such notices.

  The salesman continued. “Now, you can either pay here for the replacement, Mr. Thibodeaux, or you can just put it on your account and make a monthly payment. There’s no interest, and you can pay it off at any time you’d like.”

  “Just put it on my account.” It’d be quicker, and he itched to get over to the rental house to check it out.

  “Yes, sir, of course. Which account would you like the charges put on?”

  Grayson slipped the new phone into his jacket pocket. “What do you mean which account? I only have one.”

  “No, sir.” The young salesman tapped the screen of his iPad. “I show your current account that has that phone number on it, but I also show a joint account with an active number as well.” He ran his finger up the screen. “The account is in your name and that of one Anna Belle Thibodeaux. Different mailing address though.” He frowned. “Is this not your account? I can get my manager to look into this.”

  Grayson’s mind raced. “No. I just forgot about that account.” He shot Pam a warning glance.

  “Oh-kay.” The salesman wore a skeptical look.

  “Actually, is there a way I could get a record of the calls made to and from the phone number on our joint account?” If he could get access before the police did, he might be able to spot something that seemed off in Anna Belle’s call logs. “Say for the past two weeks?”

  “You can go online and print it off.”

  “But can you do that for me? Now? Since I’m already here.” He smiled. “Please.”

  “Let me see what I can do. It’ll take a minute.”

  “Thank you.”

  Pam waited until the salesman had left before turning on Grayson. “You’re still on Anna Belle’s account?”

  “I didn’t know. She must’ve just changed the address for the bill.” Typical of her. She would make sure the billing address was changed and figured that would be enough.

  “What do you think is on the call log?”

  “I don’t know, but I want to see if there’s anything out of the ordinary on there. The police will get around to it eventually, and I’d rather beat them to the punch if there’s anything that will help us figure out what happened.”

  “Smart.”

  “Every now and then it happens.” He grinned and winked at her.

  “Rarely.” But she smiled back.

  “Here you go, sir. It’s the last ten days.” The salesman thrust a small stack of papers at Grayson. “That’s all I can pull here, but again, you can access all the information online.”

  “Thanks.” Grayson took the papers from the young man before he could change his mind. “I appreciate all your help today. Thank you.”

  With Pam on his heels, Grayson made his way to his truck. Pam jumped into the passenger’s side as soon as he unlocked the doors. He split the stack in half and handed Pam the bottom half before starting to go through the line items.

  He discounted the calls to and from Laure Comeau, her best friend. He recognized her number because it had always been on his and Anna Belle’s home phone caller ID before they canceled the landline entirely.

  There were many calls to her office, ranging from two minutes to forty-eight. Legitimate work stuff.

  Several calls from the same number, always late at night, called her. None were over five minutes, some barely one. Not a single time did she call the number back. Grayson grabbed the pen always tucked under the sun visor and circled that number.

  “You found something?” Pam marked her spot with her finger.

  “Just a number I don’t know that called several times at night—” Wait a minute. He did know that number. It was familiar. He’d seen it many times before.

  The muscles across the back of his shoulders tightened. “Never mind. It’s Dubois’s number.” Her boss. The man she’d been having an affair with.

  Pam didn’t say a word, just gave a nod and went back to looking at her stack.

  What did she think of him? Really? Pam had been his assistant at Game’s On You since the day he hired her three years ago. He and Colton had just opened the business and had signed two large local firms to create and run games for them. He’d needed to hire someone good, who could start immediately, and whom he could trust. Pam had walked in for her interview sporting her purple-pink hair, which matched her lipstick perfectly, and wearing black jeans with combat boots and a worn bomber jacket. Before Grayson could dismiss her on looks alone, she’d wowed him with her knowledge and personality. Going with his gut instinct, he’d hired her on the spot and not once regretted it. They were now so much more than coworkers. They were friends.

  Yet she hadn’t said what she really thought about his marriage dissolving. Sure, she’d been outraged on behalf of him as the truth—and all the layers of the truth that he hadn’t even had an idea had been going on—came out, but in the recessed corners of her mind, did she think he was partially to blame?

  How many times had he asked himself that over the last several months? Had he not given Anna Belle enough attention? Had he not cared enough for what mattered to her?

  “Grayson?”

  He focused back on Pam, in the present. “Yeah?”

  “Why did you call Anna Belle Tuesday afternoon?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Pam tapped the paper in her hand. “It shows our office number called her at four twenty-eight. The call lasted until five eleven.”

  He took the paper from her and stared at the log. Sure enough, there was the call. But he didn’t talk to her. He hadn’t talked to her in two weeks.

  “Are you sure you didn’t call her for something to do with the divorce or something and just forgot?”

  “Talk for almost an hour? Not hardly. I had no reason to talk to her, much less call her.”

  “Well, I sure didn’t call her either, but there’s the call from our office, right there on the log.”

  This didn’t make sense. He didn’t call her. Their last contact had been brutal to his ego, and his emotions.

  Call her? No way. “This has to be a mistake.”

  “With your work number and for that length of time?” Pam shook her head. “There has to be a logical explanation for this.”

  “I’d love to hear it.” He handed her back the paper. “I’m all ears.”

  “I don�
��t know, but we’ll figure it out.” She went back to studying the paper. “Um, Grayson?”

  He glanced up. “Yeah?” What else?

  “Anna Belle called your cell at 10:12 Wednesday night.”

  “Yeah, I thought she wanted to yell at me about money or something she didn’t like in the final divorce decree. She didn’t leave a voice mail or anything.”

  “Okay. She called you again at 9:12 on Thursday morning.”

  The day she died.

  Grayson grabbed the phone log from his assistant, even though he knew it would reflect exactly what Pam had said. The call on Thursday was only a little over a minute. Long enough to hear his outgoing message and leave one. He pulled his new cell phone out of his jacket pocket. Forty-four missed calls and three voice mails.

  He scrolled through the missed calls that recorded from Wednesday night until the present—forty of the forty-four were from Pam. One from Colton—hey, at least he had called. One from Brandon’s cell phone. Two from Anna Belle, same times as her call log.

  Hesitantly, he accessed the voice mails and played Pam’s first, putting it on speaker.

  “Hey, Grayson, it’s Pam. Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you and have called like a gazillion times. Call me when you get this.”

  Pam shrugged. “Told you I’d tried to call.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, fortysomething times.”

  “Barely forty.”

  He moved to play the next voice mail.

  Anna Belle’s voice cut through the speaker. “Grayson, it’s me. We need to talk.”

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood at full attention. He felt like a goose had walked over his grave, hearing the voice of the dead. A contrite-sounding Anna Belle was definitely something out of the ordinary.

  He played the last voice mail recording. “Grayson, it’s Brandon. You need to call me.”

  Silence filled the cabin of the truck.

  “I didn’t know her well, but she sounded different than usual on that recording,” Pam offered.