Death Loves a Messy Desk (14 page)

All right, so I wasn’t entirely forthcoming with her. I hadn’t gone to see Pepper until after my first visit to Barb’s place, and I hadn’t told Pepper I’d gone in under false pretenses.

“The door was open?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t open it?”

“Of course not. That would be breaking and entering, or something illegal. I should have told him I wasn’t who he thought I was, but . . . I made a mistake.”

I guess at that point, she decided to trust me. “Did you tell the police about the cat?”

“No. I will. I’ll talk to them again. But I started to think about the cute little placemats and I realized the table looked set for a romantic dinner. I wanted to check if you knew about a boyfriend. I thought if I had his name, I could call him and find out if he knows where she is.”

She still had her arms crossed across her chest. And she hadn’t let go of that wary look in her eye. “I don’t know how to reach him. I’m not even sure of his last name. I keep telling you, she’s new here and she doesn’t really confide in me. As much as I like her, she’s quite a private person.”

“Quite a tidy person, too, wouldn’t you say?”

She chuckled. “For sure, a lot neater than I am.”

Another thing that didn’t make sense.

“Randy?” she said.

“Randy?” I echoed.

“No, that’s not it. That kind of a name, though. Boy, it must be menopause, but I can’t remember anything lately. I’m sure she mentioned his name in passing, but . . . pfft, it’s gone.”

“Did you ever meet him?”

She shook her head. “No. He took her home a couple of times. Parked outside and chatted for a while. Jim couldn’t resist spying from the window. He feels kind of paternal. A bit ridiculous when you think that Barb’s in her late thirties.”

“Mmm.” Margaret’s parents came to mind.

“She’s not much older than our own girls. He misses meddling in their lives. No wonder they moved so far away.”

“Did you see this man?”

“Jim might have, but I didn’t. I told him to get away from the window and give the woman some privacy. Had to make a fuss to get him away from there.”

“Do you think Jim saw him when he got out of the car?”

“He didn’t actually get out. Or anyway, Jim didn’t mention it. I think they talked in the car and then she went upstairs by herself.”

“But you think it was a romantic interest?”

“I didn’t ask, but she mentioned a guy a couple of times, and you know you can tell by someone’s tone that they’re taken with that person. Oh, why can’t I remember his name? I heard it enough.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t think you’d need to remember it,” I said. “But if it’s in your head, it will pop out sooner or later.” I reached into my bag and brought out my card. She stared at it and then at me.

“Oh boy,” she said, “to think I let an organizer into my chaotic house. I must be nuts.”

“Your house isn’t chaotic.”

“Oh, sure it is. Don’t know how you could miss that.” She shot me a suspicious look, as though she thought I was lying again.

I said, “Are you an artist?”

“Yes. A messy one.” She laughed.

“Are you happy and comfortable in your home?”

“Well, sure.”

“Are you productive?”

“Most times.”

“Can you find what you need when you need it?”

“Of course.”

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

She smiled, and then the smile slipped from her face. “Except Barb.”

“Right. And let’s hope I’m wrong about her.”

“Robert, I think,” she said.

I stared.

“Yes, that’s it. I’m sure she mentioned that.” She tapped the side of her head. “You were right, it was in there.”

“Do you have a last name?” Of course, even as I asked the question, I was pretty sure of the answer.

“It will come to me.”

I suggested
Van Zandt
.

She shook her head. “Not sure. Not even one hundred percent sure about the
Robert
part.”

“I think I know how to find out.”

I turned to leave, hoping that Paula didn’t see the worry on my face.

She touched my arm. “Let me know, please. As soon as you have any news about her.”

I pushed open the glass door of Quovadicon and waved to Autumn.

“May I help you, miss? Oh hi, Caroline,” she said, as I walked past her and through the offices. Fredelle was in her office, looking paler than usual. Her periwinkle cardigan had lost its crisp clean look.

I closed the door behind me and Fredelle gasped.

“She’s still not at home,” I said.

Fredelle’s hand shot to her mouth.

“The landlord doesn’t know where she is. The door was wide open and the cat was gone.”

“Oh, goodness! Do you think she left town?”

“If so, she left everything behind her. She didn’t seem to have packed.” I continued, “I thought I saw her on television.”

“What?”

“At the scene of that murder. One of the bystanders gawking at the site looked like the woman at the wheel of the SUV.”

“I don’t understand. Why would she be there?”

“No idea. I thought perhaps you might know something.”

“I heard about the murder.” She stopped talking and shuddered. “But how could Barb be connected with that? Perhaps she saw the site and stopped out of curiosity. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Me neither. Maybe you’re right.”

A connection was beginning to flicker in my mind. “By the way, Fredelle, were you aware that Barb was going out with Robbie Van Zandt?”

She stared, her hand hovering at her throat. “No. I mean, she never let on and neither did he. I knew he had a huge crush, but who would ever imagine that they . . .”

I understood Fredelle’s reaction. That sardine can would have been a powerful deterrent for me if I’d been Robbie. On the other hand, Robbie’s personality would have been an equally daunting prospect if I’d been in Barb’s sneakers. Still, wedding magazines can make people unpredictable.

“I think it’s true, and I want to ask him if he has any idea of where she might have gone.”

“Oh, dear. Do you think you should? He’s so angry about everything.”

“I have to ask, and I prefer to do it here.”

She stood up and clutched the edge of her desk. “But you don’t think that Robbie would have anything to do with the fact she’s missing?”

“He probably doesn’t.”

“What if he . . . ?” Her hand was back in front of her rosebud mouth again.

“Not too likely, but just in case, I wanted to talk to him here where there are lots of—”

“Witnesses?” she blurted.

“Is he back?”

She stared at me and then at her phone, which had started to ring. Mr. Van Zee, I imagined.

I left while she took the call and practically knocked over Dyan, who once again was pretending to water the peace lilies outside the door. At this rate, both plants would be washed away before the end of the week. I said hello and headed toward the IT office from hell.

Robbie whirled in his chair as I walked into the space. “What the hell do you want?” he said.

“I want to talk to you about Barb Douglas.”

“Haven’t you done enough harm?”

“I don’t believe I’ve done any harm.”

“That’s your story. Of course, you’d say that. You drove her away. They put you up to it. They’re horrible, always cackling and whispering. They put things on her desk to make it worse. It’s like a coven in here. Witches as far as the eye can see.”

“You’re dating Barb,” I said.

He snapped his mouth closed, practically cracking a molar. He stared at me through thick lenses. Up close I could see that the left arm of the frame was held together with duct tape. Not a good look for him, but also probably the least of Robbie Van Zandt’s problems.

“Yes?”

He shook his head.

“You’ve been seen.”

A flush crawled up his neck and began a slow ascent up his cheeks. “So what? There’s no law against dating.”

“True. And no problem with it, either. So why didn’t you just tell the truth?”

“Haven’t you ever heard about that rule you can’t date your co-workers? Where else are you going to meet people you have something in common with? Why is everyone so determined to make people miserable? Barb is such a nice person. So calm and smart and levelheaded. She’s got a sense of humor, even about the desk situation. She’s the nic est person I’ve ever worked with.”

I couldn’t imagine that Robbie Van Zandt was too hung up on the rules. I had no idea why he’d wanted to keep their dating a secret, but decided to let that go. For one thing, it wasn’t my business, although I felt her whereabouts was. “Do you have any idea where Barb could be?”

“Why should I tell you? Do you feel guilty?”

This time I told the truth. “I do, in a way. I don’t want to be responsible. If she’s upset, I want to talk to her and explain that I was not part of a conspiracy to diminish her. Fredelle regards her as an excellent employee.”

He glanced past me. “I don’t see what the fuss is about the stupid desk. She gets her job done.”

“That’s what I think, too. I was going to offer a few approaches and suggest that in the end, maybe a screen might be the best solution.”

“But you singled her out. No wonder she’s not here.”

“I didn’t single her out. I have advice for everyone in the office. And anyway, Barb took off before I even got here. We both know that’s true.”

He nodded and frowned absently.

“I know it’s true because she almost ran me off the road.”

He jumped to his feet. “I don’t believe that. She wouldn’t do that. She’s a really nice, kind person and . . .”

“She did. Trust me. She may not have meant to, but she did. Right outside Quovadicon.”

He slumped back in the chair and unbuttoned his collar. His color still hadn’t returned to normal and was now somewhere between putty and cold oatmeal. I watched him squirm and resisted the urge to tap my foot. I also fought off the equally strong urge to straighten the files on his desk and empty the trash.

He said, “There must be some kind of explanation, but I don’t know what it is yet.”

“Did something happen to upset her? Do you think someone talked about my visit?”

“No, Dyan and Autumn were just outside whispering and giggling as usual. Barb and I knew you were coming in, and we knew that you’d be looking at her desk and then something would happen. Dyan used to plant things there. Like old food and things like that. The sardine can, this time.” He picked it up and tossed it in the wastebasket. “Barb didn’t even eat at her desk. Anyway, she was prepared for a bit of ritual humiliation. We planned to have a laugh about it afterward.”

“She tore out of here. Something must have triggered that. Something they said?”

“She got a phone call.”

“You mean, just before she left?”

He bit his lip so hard it must have hurt. I waited until he unleashed a torrent of words. “I should have stopped her. I should have asked her what was going on. I should have told her I’d take care of it. Anything, anything at all, but instead I just sat here like a dumb, useless, stupid—”

I actually felt sorry for him. “It’s not your fault.”

“Of course it is.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t know much about me. I’ve never been able to get anything right.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

When I arrived, I’d been convinced he was involved in Barb’s disappearance, and now I was practically patting his hand and saying,
There, there, don’t cry
.

“Let’s pull ourselves together and try to find her,” I said. “What was the phone call about?”

He looked down at his feet as if the answer might be written there. “She didn’t say.”

“Did she say anything?”

He shook his head. Sad puppy.

“Was there anything in the conversation that might give us a clue about what upset her?”

“Do you think I haven’t asked myself that a thousand times?”

“Maybe some small thing that could help. A word. A phrase?”

“She gave a little cry, and then she jumped up and raced out the door. I ran after her trying to find out what was wrong, but she just pushed me away like she didn’t even know it was me. Didn’t see me. Then she kept going.”

That fit in with the woman who drove as if she didn’t see me or my car.

“And you have not a single clue who or what?”

“None. It was like she was too upset to talk. I didn’t take it personally when she pushed me away. I knew she had to get out of here. You could tell she was hurting.” He looked up miserably.

“So the prospect of me didn’t send her over the deep end. It was the call.”

“Yes.”

“We need to find out who called her.”