Murder in Georgia

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Murder in Georgia Page 3

by Agnes Alexander


  “Sit down.” Lita motioned toward the small white kitchen table. “I hope you like bacon and eggs.”

  Nicole was surprised. Nothing had been said the night before about breakfast. “I didn’t...I mean...”

  “Forget it, Nicole.” She smiled. “Breakfast is the least I could do for the person who was willing to kill a monster snake with my four thousand dollar vase.”

  “I’m certainly glad I didn’t have to use the vase.” She dropped into the indicated chair. “I’d never get you paid off.”

  On the yellow-flowered placemat, Lita put a green plate containing three crisp strips of bacon and a scrambled egg. Beside this she set a smaller plate with toast and butter. She put the exact same meal on the other placemat. There were matching sugar, creamer, salt and pepper shakers on the table as well as a collection of jellies and jams.

  Nicole unfolded the green and yellow napkin and waited until Lita said the prayer. She then tackled the eggs and nodded. “I have some information I think you’ll be interested in.”

  “Oh?”

  “I talked with the snake woman this morning. She said the person who hired her to come and entertain you with her snake dance was Stella Defaiso.”

  Lita slumped back in her chair. “It couldn’t be!”

  “That was the name she gave me. She said the woman didn’t leave a phone number and she paid in cash.”

  She shook her head and repeated. “It couldn’t be.”

  Nicole didn’t know what to say. She knew she’d written the name down right. “Maybe I misunderstood.”

  “You had to, Nicole. It couldn’t have been Stella.” Lita was adamant.

  “Why couldn’t it be her?”

  “My friend, Stella Defaiso, died three years ago.”

  Nicole stared at Lita in disbelief. “Then someone used her name to hire the snake dancer.”

  “Why would anyone be so cruel?”

  “I have no idea. But I’m going to try to find out.”

  “It’s all over now. Why don’t you let it go for a while?” Lita had regained her composure. “You have other things to think about today.”

  “You mean like finding a job.”

  “Yes, that’s just what I mean. By the way, you look very nice in your new suit. It is new, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. It was one of the bargains I got yesterday.”

  “It’s a Pendleton. I must say you were lucky to find that brand. Of course you’re small and most people have to have a larger size.” She smiled at her boarder. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to look at your purchases last night.”

  “No problem. You can see them later.”

  She changed the subject. “You may take my car today if you wish. I don’t plan to go out.”

  “Thanks, Lita. That’s very kind of you, but I think I’ll walk. I can catch the bus at the corner and that way I won’t have to worry about parking.”

  “I understand.”

  They finished the meal, and she refused to let Nicole help with the dishes. She began to shoo her out of the house, but Nicole wouldn’t leave until her landlady promised to lock the doors behind her.

  Lita laughed, but Nicole heard the lock click as she stepped out onto the wide wrap-around front porch.

  It was a glorious fall morning. The sunlight danced off the tops of the bright yellow, red, and orange hardwood trees adorning the lawns along the quiet street.

  Walking in the direction of the bus stop where she’d disembarked yesterday, Nicole admired the beauty of each yard as she passed. She wondered if she felt at home here because she lived on a street such as this. Lord, I wish I could remember who I am. She paused, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I won’t think about it now. There will be time later to work out my past. Now I have to take care of the present.

  With determination, she opened her eyes and moved forward. Four houses down a tall woman with white hair dug in a large bed of pansies surrounding a big red maple tree not far from the curb.

  “Good morning,” the elderly woman said gaily.

  “Good morning,” Nicole said and smiled at her.

  She returned the smile, but didn’t say anything further. Nicole continued down the sidewalk, still pondering her memory loss.

  Two blocks further, she paused at the bus stop, but when she saw a small accounting business on the next corner, she changed her mind about waiting for it. She wasn’t interested in accounting, but if there was one business in the area, there would be others. She crossed the street and continued down a hill and around another corner. An antique shop and an attorney’s office sat on the left side of the next street. It dawned on her if she could find a job this close to Lita’s house, she’d be able to walk to work and that would be a big help to her budget. Also, she could put off getting a driver’s license even though she probably needed one. People often asked to see a license for identification.

  At the foot of the next hill she saw a restaurant. Across the street was a small shopping area and a group of offices. “Ah,” she said aloud. “This is just what I was looking for.”

  Though the restaurant didn’t have a help wanted sign outside she went in. It was a charming place with tables covered in red and white tablecloths. The booths were upholstered in red with a white stripe. Small vases of flowers sat on each table. The waitress attending a customer close to the door chatted about children. It seemed a warm and friendly place, and Nicole knew she could be happy working here.

  She told the lady at the cash register she was looking for a job, and the woman went to get the manager. When the proprietor came out he was polite, but told her, though he appreciated her stopping in, he had a waiting list for workers. He also told her she was welcome to check back in a few months.

  Disappointed, she thanked him and left. She crossed the street to the group of offices. The first business she approached had Cottingham Insurance Agency, Inc. stamped on the door. She didn’t think she knew anything about insurance, but decided this was worth a try.

  She pushed open the door and stepped inside. No one sat in the reception area. She started to call out when she heard someone talking. She waited to see if anyone came out. She presumed the person in one of the back offices was on the phone when nobody answered the speaker during the pauses.

  The phone on the reception desk began to ring and she waited for someone to come into the room to answer it. When no one did, she thought about answering it herself, but fought back the urge.

  After a while a tall man, who she guessed to be in his early to mid-thirties, came down the hall. Nicole looked him over quickly. He had soft looking sandy hair and brown eyes behind horned-rimmed glasses. He wore charcoal gray slacks, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his tie had a muted gray and red stripe. He wasn’t movie star handsome, but there was something about him which instantly captivated her.

  He stopped short when he saw her. “Can I help you?” he asked in a surprised voice.

  She didn’t know what made her say it, but before she could stop herself she blurted, “Maybe I can help you.”

  He stared at her. “What do you mean?”

  “You seem to be rather busy and your receptionist is either late, or out, or you don’t have one. I think you need someone to answer the phone. And I need a job.”

  “Did the agency send you?”

  “No. I came on my own.”

  “How did you know we were looking for a receptionist?”

  She decided to be honest. “I didn’t. I only discovered your need when I came through the door.” She took a deep breath and went on. “I live a few blocks up the street and I’m trying to find a job in the area so I can walk to work. I’ve tried the café but they’re not hiring right now. I came in here to see if you might need help.” She smiled at him. “I guess if you say no, then I’ll try all the other places around here.”

  “Well, I must say. You have a unique way of applying for work.” He took off his glasses and smiled at her.

  “So, may I co
me to work for you?” She couldn’t help noticing the kindness in his sexy brown eyes.

  Before he could answer, the phone rang again. He reached backward and picked it up. “Cottingham Insurance. Yes, Stallings, I do have the cards for it. Yes...

  The other phone began to ring.

  “Let me put you on hold a moment Stallings?” He turned to Nicole. “Okay, let me hear you answer the phone.”

  She went behind the desk. “Good morning. Cottingham Insurance Agency.” She said into the receiver in what she considered a professional tone. “No sir. This is Nicole. Mr. Cottingham is tied up at the moment, but I’ll be glad to take your name and number. I’m sure he’ll be able to get back to you shortly.” She began to write down the information on a pad she found on the desk.

  “Keep it up. I’ll be listening.” The man nodded at her and disappeared into the back of the office.

  She put the message on the corner of the desk and began to look through the stack of the mail piled near the same corner. Some of it was addressed to Martin Cottingham, some to Paul Cottingham, some to Connor Cottingham, and a few simply to Cottingham Insurance. She sorted it into four stacks. The phone rang again and she went through the same procedure.

  An hour later the man—she wasn’t sure if he was one of the Cottinghams or somebody else who worked there—came back into the office. “How’s it going?”

  “Just fine.” She kept her fingers crossed, hoping he was going to like her work.

  “I’m not sure if we’re busy enough for a full time receptionist, but we’ll take you on for a trial basis.” He looked her over, but not in a lecherous way.

  She wanted to shout. Instead, she smiled. “Thank you, Mr....”

  “I’m Connor Cottingham. My dad is Martin and my brother is Paul. Dad only works part-time now. He likes to spend a lot of time either at the coast fishing or in the mountains hiking. Paul is in Atlanta on business today. He should be back tomorrow.” He looked at her. “And what’s your name again?”

  “Nicole Lynch.”

  “Well, Nicole, I have an outside appointment in fifteen minutes. Feel free to make yourself some coffee. There’s a pot in the back. Also, if the phones don’t get too busy, here are some letters which need to go out and there is a stack of filing on top of the cabinets in the file room behind this office. We’ll discuss salary and job responsibilities when I get back. Is that okay with you?”

  “It’s fine with me.”

  He nodded and laid the letters on her desk. “I should be back in a couple of hours.”

  The phones were quiet so she decided to call Lita before she set out to discover if she knew what she was doing in an office. The computer looked intimidating, but she thought maybe she had used one before.

  Lita was delighted to hear Nicole had gotten a job so quickly. “The Cottinghams are nice people. I have my insurance with them and Nancy, Martin’s wife, is in the garden club with me.” She paused then added, “I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get home. We’ll celebrate.”

  “No, Lita. You can’t keep feeding me.”

  “I don’t see why not. After all, you did protect me from the snake.”

  Nicole didn’t know how to argue with her. “Just something simple then. We don’t have to have anything elaborate to celebrate.”

  “We’ll see,” was all the older woman said.

  After hanging up, Nicole tackled the filing then picked up the letters Connor had given her.

  When he returned at quarter to one, she had his letters ready for his signature and the filing was all caught up.

  He seemed pleased and asked if she was hungry.

  “A little.”

  “I’m hungry too. Let’s go get a bite to eat. We can talk about the job over a sandwich.”

  Chapter 4

  He locked the office door and they walked to the little restaurant across the street. The proprietor looked at them strangely, but only said, “Hello, Mr. Cottingham. How are you today?”

  “I’m great, Mr. Johnson, and I think I have something to thank you for.”

  “Oh?”

  “I understand Nicole came by here this morning looking for a job.” Mr. Johnson nodded and Connor went on. “I want to thank you for not hiring her. She came to me next, and I think I’ve found a receptionist-secretary who will work out fine this time.”

  “Maybe I made a mistake and should rethink my decision about hiring her.” He picked up two menus and indicated for them to follow him.

  “It’s too late. She works for me now,” Connor said as he slipped into the corner booth. “Don’t you dare try to hire her away.”

  Nicole slid into the side opposite him.

  “Well, young lady,” Mr. Johnson said as he handed them the menus. “If he gets too bossy over there, you just walk out and come see me again. I won’t make such a snap decision next time.”

  “I’ll do that,” Nicole said with a grin. “Thank you.”

  “The Philly steak is great,” Connor suggested when they were alone.

  “That sounds like it would go good with iced tea.”

  The waitress walked up. “Hello, Mr. Cottingham.”

  “Hi, Lois. We’ll have two Philly steaks with iced tea.”

  “Two Phillys and two teas,” she repeated. “Would you like anything else?”

  “Bring some chips and salsa,” he said.

  She returned almost immediately with two tall glasses of tea. In a matter of minutes a big bowl of chips and salsa appeared. As soon as everything was settled, Connor began discussing the job. “Nicole, I’m sure you know this, but I have to say it anyway. The most important thing you must remember about this job is discretion. We sell all types of insurance and our customers are all over the southeast. Most people are sensitive about their insurance and we never discuss their business outside the office. It’s important we maintain our files in such a way as to keep the trust and respect of our clients because many of them you will recognize when you see their names.”

  She didn’t tell him she wouldn’t recognize her own name much less that of anyone else. She simply said, “I understand.”

  “That means we don’t talk to our own husbands or wives; moms or dads; sisters or brothers, and definitely not other clients.”

  “I rent a room from a widow lady up the street. She’s about the only person I ever see and I’m sure I’d never talk to her about anyone’s personal business.”

  He smiled. “So you’re not married?”

  Deep down she had no idea whether she was married or not, but she couldn’t tell him this. Besides, sitting here with him she didn’t want to be married, so she stuck with the simple answer of, “No.”

  “I thought we’d start you on a trial basis. If it works out, we’d give you a raise in thirty days.” He mentioned a figure. “Is this satisfactory to you?”

  “It is,” she said calmly, though she wanted to grab him around the neck and tell him how grateful she was.

  “Of course, you’ll have benefits if we take you on permanently. Health insurance, holidays, and two weeks’ vacation are the ones which come to mind. We’re discussing a 401K, but we haven’t firmed up anything yet.”

  Excitement rose up in Nicole, but she tried not to show it. She wanted him to think she was business minded, not desperate for a job.

  Connor went on, “You can fill out the forms when we get back to the office.”

  “Forms?”

  “State and Federal withholding, that sort of thing.”

  A sudden feeling of panic worked its way from her toes to her stomach. She had to think. How was she going to fill out forms? They required a social security number and only God knew what else. She knew she’d have to think of something—and quick.

  The sandwich was as delicious as Connor said it would be. It was too bad she didn’t enjoy it as much as she normally would have. She almost forgot about the forms, when he ordered pecan pie to top off the meal. It was full of nuts and tasted freshly baked. By the time the
y were finished, she wanted to go home and take a nap instead of going back to the office.

  Instead, she did go back to the office and had made it to her desk as the phone rang. Thank goodness, it was for Connor. He disappeared into his office to take it. She sat at the desk. She could call the social security office and say she was a new citizen from Canada, but then she figured they would want to see proof of citizenship. She would have to make up a number and hope it went through. If luck was with her, she wouldn’t get the sequence wrong and be caught right away. She switched on the computer and looked through some of the office files. She knew if she could find a deceased person, about her age or near what she guessed her age to be she would take their number, change it here and there, and hope it hadn’t been recycled.

  She did find a number she thought would be safe to use. The former owner had been dead three years. She switched two numbers in the middle section and left the first and last sequence of digits intact. The outcome looked as if it’d be a good number. She copied it down and slipped the paper into her pocket. She then looked up Lita’s number and address in the phone book. Now she had to select a birthday. She chose one close to Christmas because she felt people would tend to forget a birthday near a holiday. Now what year, she thought. I could be anywhere from my mid-twenties or my early thirties. I have no idea which, but I think I’ll be twenty-seven. It’s a good respectable age. Not so young one would fail to take me seriously or too old to be considered a fuddy-duddy.

  She began to write. When she came to the section to fill in her driver’s license number, she thought, I’ll just have to tell them my license is missing. She was sure she could pull this off. It wasn’t such a big deal. Maybe she’d remember who she was soon. If not, she’d try for a license and bring it in.

  Connor appeared back in the front office with the tax exemption papers a few minutes before closing time. She filled them out without hesitation and, told him she’d never bothered to get a license. When he smiled and said that would be fine, she had to look away. His smile sent a shiver down her spine. She finished the papers and, without looking at him again, she said good night and headed home.

 

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