by B R Snow
“Who said clumsy doesn’t come in handy?” I whispered.
I screwed the pedestal back on, set the light upright, then did the same with the remaining one I’d knocked over. I backed out of the office, turned the overhead light off, then made a beeline for the door. I was just about to grab my coat when I heard a loud knock.
“Crap,” I whispered as I immediately felt the onset of a panic attack.
I stood still, afraid to move. Then I heard another loud knock and tiptoed away from the door. I had no idea who was knocking, but I was pretty sure I’d have a hard time explaining my presence after my housekeeping cover story was shattered. I made my way through the living area to the wall of windows then heard the unmistakable sound of an access card being slid into the lock followed by a loud click. Frantic, I scanned the immediate area, then remembered the door next to the windows that led to the outside patio. I pushed the door open, felt some resistance from the accumulated snow, but got it far enough open to slip through. I felt the cold immediately, and the wind whipped my baggy uniform like a flag flapping in the breeze. I held the door about an inch open with both hands and put my ear next to it.
“Hello?”
Security guard. What the heck is he doing here, I said to myself as a gust of wind whipped snow against the back of my head. I felt it slowly begin to trickle down my back and grimaced.
“Sally?” the guard called out. “Are you here?”
I waited out the sound of footsteps walking across the wood floor. A long silence followed.
“Hello? Sally?” Then he said out loud to himself. “She’s probably in the bathroom.” Then he again called out. “I forgot to give you this package when I gave you Mr. Naylor’s mail.”
I relaxed, came up with a quick cover story to explain what I was doing out on the patio, and started to pull the door open to head back inside the loft. Then another gust of wind hurtled a large clump of snow in my face, and I swatted it away with both hands.
Then I heard another soft click.
This click was the sound of the patio door closing.
I stared at the door and shook my head in disbelief.
“Please don’t be locked,” I whispered.
I turned the handle and pulled. The door didn’t budge.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” I said as yet another sustained gust swirled the accumulated snow and covered my head and face.
I shook my head, similar to how our dogs shake off excess water, then peered through a small gap in the drapes. I caught a glimpse of the security guard setting a package down on the kitchen counter, then heading for the door.
I glanced down at the two feet of snow I was standing in, shivered as the thin cotton uniform billowed in the wind, and took back my previous comment about the benefits of clumsiness. I looked around the patio, then down at the ground about fifty feet below. I began shivering uncontrollably just as I heard church bells begin ringing somewhere in the distance. I counted the chimes, and when they stopped after eight rings, I realized that, in addition to being stuck outside five floors up in a snowstorm, I was also officially late for dinner.
I looked across the street, located Jennifer’s loft and saw Josie and Chef Claire standing in the window staring in disbelief at me. I shrugged and gave them a small wave. Josie held up her phone. I reached into my bag and grabbed mine and placed the call. She answered halfway through the first ring.
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Shut it,” I snapped.
“Nice outfit,” she said, laughing. “What is that? Early lunch lady?”
“Funny. Are you going to help me get the heck off this patio?”
“Yeah, eventually,” she said. “As soon as I can stop laughing. Hang on, Chef Claire wants to say hi.”
“Looks like you’re stuck out there,” Chef Claire said.
“Yeah, the wind blew the door shut,” I said.
“Sounds like a job for Supermax,” she said, laughing.
“Well, he is able to leap tall buildings in a single bound,” Josie said.
“Will you two please just shut it?” I said, frowning as my knees began knocking.
“Oh, I really don’t like your chances,” Josie said, again bursting into laughter.
“Is Max there?”
“Yeah, he’s in the kitchen helping Jennifer,” Chef Claire said. “Want me to go get him?”
“No, I want you to get me out of here,” I snapped.
“Sure,” Josie said. “Just one question.”
“What?”
“How the heck are we supposed to do that?”
“Suzy?” Max said.
I glanced across the street and saw him and Jennifer staring at me through the window.
“Hey, sweetie,” I said, giving him a small wave.
“Should I even ask?” he said.
“Probably not,” I said, shaking my head. “But you need to get me out of here. I’m freezing to death.”
“Okay, I’ll be right over,” Max said. “I have no idea what to tell them.”
“Hang on,” I said. “Give me a second to think this through.” My teeth started to chatter when another sustained gust of wind attacked. “No, you better not. The security guard at the desk knows I’m here.”
“And?” Max said, his voice calm and measured.
“And I’ll probably end up getting arrested for illegal entry,” I said, hunkered down and hugging myself. “Maybe for impersonating a housekeeper, too.”
“It has to be better than freezing to death,” Max said.
“Good point,” I said, fighting an incredible urge to pee.
“Hang on,” Josie said. “Wouldn’t a high-rise like that have to have some sort of fire escape?”
“Yes, they do,” Jennifer said. “Suzy?”
“Hi, Jennifer.”
“Yeah, hi,” she said, laughing and shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. Do you see that box on the other side of the patio?”
“I do.”
“There should be one of those collapsible metal chain ladders in there,” Jennifer said.
“Hang on,” I said, trudging through the snow toward the large box.
Halfway there, the wind gusted again, and the uniform billowed up over my head. I stopped, pushed it back down, and held it with both hands until the gust dissipated.
“Nice buns,” Chef Claire said, laughing.
“That shade of red looks really good on you,” Josie said, laughing.
“I swear, I’m gonna kill both of you,” I snapped, then pulled the lid on the box up.
I reached inside and started to remove a large metal chain ladder.
“Just hook the top end over the side of the patio,” Jennifer said. “Then just toss the rest of the ladder over the edge.”
“Okay,” I said, following her instructions. “Then what?”
“Then you climb down,” Jennifer said.
“All the way?” I said, frowning as I stared over the edge.
“Well, I suppose you could drop in and say hi to some of the other residents, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” Jennifer said.
“Funny,” I said, staring down at the ladder that was already swaying in the wind. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Okay,” Max said. “Just stay there, and I’ll call security and ask them to come and get you.”
“No, hang on,” I said, inching my way toward the top rung. “I’ll figure this out.”
I got down on my knees in the snow and turned my back to Jennifer’s window. The wind whipped my uniform again, and I shook my head as I tried to maneuver it back in place. Then I gave up all hope of modesty.
“Enjoy the show,” I snapped, then ended the call and tossed the phone into my bag. I draped my bag over my shoulder and slowly inched my way off the patio backward onto the ladder.
My first few steps down the top rungs were relatively stable since I was still close to the patio. But the further I climbed down, the more the ladder began to sway
in the wind, and I applied the death grip with my hands and feet. The snow continued to whip my face and exposed legs as I continued my slow, cautious descent. Halfway down the ladder, both legs began to cramp, and I snuck a peek down at the ground and saw Max and Josie standing right below the ladder. Max was holding a large blanket that looked extremely inviting. They both had concerned looks on their faces, but their expressions were nothing like the one I got from a man on the third floor who was staring at the woman right outside his window swaying back and forth like a fashion-challenged pirate wench swinging from a yardarm. After what seemed like a week, I finally reached the bottom step, felt my feet touch solid ground, then let go of the ladder and exhaled contentedly when I felt Max’s arms and the blanket wrapped around me.
“Let’s get you inside,” Max said, gently leading me across the street.
“What about the ladder?” I said. “People are going to notice it.”
“Jennifer said she’d take care of it,” Max said. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m cold and grumpy,” I said, grimacing as my leg cramps forced me into a limp. “And I really need to pee.”
“Hang on, we’re almost there,” he said, pulling me closer to him.
“Max?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m furious.”
“You’re not showing it,” I said, glancing over at him.
“Don’t worry, I will.”
Chapter 18
Jennifer greeted me at the door with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, then led me to a bathroom. I noticed a thick sweater and a pair of sweats sitting on top of a hamper near the shower.
“Take a nice long, hot shower,” she said. “That should do the trick.”
“Thanks,” I said, staring at the accumulation of snow in my hair that looked like white cotton candy. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, laughing. “I won’t tell.”
“But what about the ladder?”
“It’s already taken care of,” she said. “Get in the shower. Now. When you’re back to normal, we’ll eat dinner. I hope you like Thai food.”
“I love Thai food,” I said, smiling at her. “Thank you.”
“Hey, it’s the least I can do. I’ve never seen Max this happy.”
“I don’t think he’s very happy at the moment,” I said, pulling the snow-covered uniform over my head.
“I’m sure he’ll eventually find the humor in it,” Jennifer said, heading for the door. “I know it didn’t take me long.”
I heard her laughing as she walked away.
“Everybody’s a comedian,” I said as I removed the rest of my clothes and stepped into the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, I was warm and dry, fully clothed, and really hungry. I headed into the living area and saw Max and Jennifer in the kitchen. I gave him a hug and a kiss, apologized again, then joined Josie and Chef Claire who were sitting near the windows staring out at the snow that continued to fall.
“She’s alive,” Josie said, patting the couch next to her.
“No thanks to you,” I said, gently punching her on the shoulder.
“Hey, I was right there to catch you if you happened to fall,” she said. “Or at least give it my best shot.”
I glanced out the window and frowned.
“What happened to the ladder?”
“Naylor showed up a few minutes ago and pulled it up,” Chef Claire said. “I think Jennifer called him.”
“Why would she do that?” I said, glancing into the kitchen.
“She’s Canadian,” Chef Claire said, shrugging. “I guess it was the neighborly thing to do.”
“Weird,” I said, shaking my head.
“No, what was weird was the sight of you on that ladder,” Josie said, glancing over at me before taking a sip of wine. “At least you got your annual workout in.”
“You’re really not funny,” I said.
“Disagree.”
“Dinner is served,” Jennifer called.
We hopped to our feet and sat down at the table. Jennifer started us off with a Thai red-curry soup that was a total knee-buckler. I was reaching for the ladle to help myself to seconds when the doorbell chimed. Jennifer got up and went to the door. Moments later, she returned with John Naylor by her side.
“Good evening, everyone,” Naylor said, glancing around the table.
“When I called Mr. Naylor about the ladder, I decided to invite him to dinner,” Jennifer said, answering the question that was rolling around in all our heads. “I imagine he has a few questions he’d like to ask Suzy. Have a seat. We’re just getting started.”
She headed for the kitchen, grabbed a new place setting and arranged it in front of Naylor. He served himself and tasted the soup.
“Fantastic,” he said, nodding. Then he glanced down the table at me. “You want to fill me in?”
“It might take a while,” I said.
“Oh, I’d be shocked if it didn’t,” Naylor said, baffled but, so far, not showing any anger.
I started slowly by outlining my visit to Melinda’s roommate, discussed the journal and how I’d come into possession of the access card to his loft, then briefly covered the housekeeping ruse I’d used to get past security. Naylor, along with everyone else, listened closely as they sipped soup, then I paused to focus on my bowl and waited for the inevitable questions.
“Melinda was working on a book?” Naylor said.
“Yes,” I said, nodding as I sipped the red-curry broth.
“She never mentioned it. And you thought she had hidden something in my loft?”
“Yes.”
“So, you thought you’d just go in and take a look around?” Naylor said, showing his first trace of anger.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding at him. “I’m sorry, John. I got a little over my skis on that one.”
Josie and Chef Claire snorted. I scowled at them, and they went back to their soup not even bothering to hide their grins.
“I would certainly say so,” Naylor said. “And you managed to get yourself into my loft and then got locked outside on the patio?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” I said, pushing my empty bowl away. “I’m really sorry, John. I just got carried away trying to figure out what’s going on around here.”
“Why on earth would you do that?” Naylor said.
“Because it’s what I do,” I said, glancing back and forth between him and Max.
“I see,” Naylor said, frowning. “What makes you think Melinda hid something at my place?”
“She made a few cryptic comments in her journal,” I said, accepting the platter of rice Josie was holding out. “So, I thought I should test my theory out.”
“Without consulting me?” Naylor said, spooning curry onto his plate.
“Yeah,” I said, exhaling.
“Because you thought I might be involved, right?”
“The thought did cross my mind,” I said, shrugging.
“I’m never going to live this reputation down,” Naylor said, tapping his fork on the side of his plate. “Maybe I should just go back to shooting for the tabloids.”
“No, don’t do that,” Jennifer said.
“So, what do you think she might have hidden in my loft?” Naylor said, turning back to me.
“This,” I said, reaching into my bag and tossing the small storage device on the table.
“You found that in my loft?” Naylor said, staring at it.
“I did.”
“Where?”
“It was stuffed inside one of the lights you use for your photo shoots. It was inside the leg of the one with the pedestal bottom.”
“What’s on it?” Naylor said, picking the storage device up and examining it.
“I have no idea,” I said. “I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. Have you seen that before?”
“Never,” Naylor said, shaking his head.
I w
as convinced he wasn’t lying and my neurons flared for a moment then settled down. I began working my way through a very spicy Panang curry and rice.
“Maybe we should take a look at it after dinner,” Jennifer said. “I’m intrigued.”
“Me too,” Naylor said, setting the device down. “This curry is amazing.”
“Thanks,” Jennifer said, smiling at him. “I’m glad you like it.”
We finished our meal in relative silence, and I remained worried about how angry Max was with me. Then he leaned over, whispered in my ear for me to please pass the rice and squeezed my upper thigh hard. I nuzzled his neck.
“Have you forgiven me?” I whispered.
“No.”
“But you will, right?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s harsh,” I said, laughing.
“I do have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Of all the dumb things you’ve ever done, where does this one rank?”
I thought about it, then slid a forkful of curry into my mouth.
“It probably doesn’t even crack the top ten.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.”
Chapter 19
After dinner, we sat down in the living room and got comfortable while Jennifer and Max, after refusing our offers of help, did the dishes. We sipped wine, made small talk, and tried to come up with a new date to redo the photo shoot with the dogs. Jennifer entered the room carrying a laptop, and she sat down and began fiddling with the connections.
“I thought we’d go through whatever is on that thing on the TV,” she said, nodding at the large flat screen attached to a wall.
