Glass Towers, Shattered (Glass Towers Trilogy) (17 page)

We get up to clean up our dishes and stow the leftovers in the fridge.  Simone turns and looks at me with a distinct twinkle in her eye.  “Let’s get your suitcase packed for Palm Springs.  I am counting down the hours until we go; in fewer than 36 hours, we will be on a plane, heading to fun!

“You know something, I think this trip is going to be just what I need!”

The next day whirls by, as I shop for accessories for the professor’s install next week with Albert’s watchful eye following me all day.  It is strange at first, but by mid-day I get used to it and kind of forget the lumbering Canadian is there.  Well, most of the time I forget. Late in the day, I feel my phone vibrating in my purse.  I pull it out to see another call from my little friend, the unknown caller.  That makes three today.  The calls are getting more frequent.  I have not answered any of them.  Instead, I make a note of it in the little pad that I keep in my purse.

By the time I am finished dropping off the purchases at my office, I decide I had better check my condo.  I walk around the block in the drizzling rain to my building.  I step into the lobby and see Frank sitting behind his desk.  I am shaking the drops of rain off my jacket.  When he looks up from his book and sees me, his face lights up. “Well hello Miss Austen, how are you?  I haven’t seen you in days.  Been out of town?”  He looks past me to Albert and then gives me a questioning look.

“Hi Frank.”  I give him a weak smile.  “I had another incident the other night, so I am staying at my girlfriend’s house nearby.”

Still looking at Albert, Frank says, ”I see. Everything ok?”  He looks uncomfortable.

I wave my hand, “As good as can be expected.  Nothing was harmed though, if that’s what you mean.”

“Glad nothing was harmed and you’re okay.  Well, while you have been gone, I have been keeping an eye out on things and nothing has been out of place while I have been on duty.  I did slip a Rapid Transport envelope under your door.  I think it came yesterday.”

“Ok, thanks.  I’m just going to check on things and then I’m off to California for the weekend.”

He looks surprised.  “Well, if I don’t see you before you leave, have a great trip.”

“Thanks Frank.”  Shit, maybe I should not have told him where I was going.  Damn it, not using my brain.  Who is to say that Frank isn’t in on everything also.  There I go, feeling paranoid again.

Albert follows me to the elevator and holds the door open with his enormous hand.  As we approach the 10th floor and the doors open, I feel my heart beating out of my chest.  I am very nervous to enter my condo.  This is another one of those times that I am actually glad to have a watchdog with me.  I proceed to unlock the three bolts on the door.  When it swings open, I am hit with a blast of heat.  It is like a blazing sauna in here.  I don’t know how the heat could have been turned up so high.  I certainly would never have turned it up like that.  It’s stifling.  I look up at Albert, and his already permanent scowl creases are even more prominent.  He puts his mammoth hand out “Wait”.  He proceeds further into the condo and surveys the premises.  I lean down to pick up the courier envelop that Frank had slid under the door.  It looked familiar.  I remember the labeling from the time that someone sent me that newspaper clipping of Harrison and Marion in an embrace at the press conference in Montreal.  With the envelope in my trembling hands, I join Albert in the living room.  He turns to me and in his booming voice, “All is clear.”

“Ok, thank you.” I walk over to the wall, where the thermostat is located, and turn it back down to 68 degrees.  What on earth?  It could have been a malfunction, but my gut tells me that is not the case.  I am willing to bet someone else has entered my condo again.  But, why?  They obviously know that I am staying at Simone’s.  If Marion is behind all of this, her approach is very bizarre.  This story has some serious holes in it.  There is so much that does not make sense.  Like, why would she be trying to scare me?  If she is supposedly marrying Harrison, doesn’t she hold all the cards?  She is the ultimate winner of the prize package, after all.  At least that is what she is supposed to believe.  There has to be more that Harrison is not telling me.  There has to be more. 

I look down at the envelope in my hand.  I just can’t seem to bring myself to open it.  I look up to see Albert staring intently at the envelope in my hand as well.  With quaking fingers, I rip open the pull-tab of the envelope. I reach inside to see what torturous materials have arrived at my doorstep this time.  Once again, I find pictures.  No big surprise at, this point.  The top picture is of Harrison and Marion locked in a full, passionate embrace.  The next picture is of Harrison leaning into Marion.  He appears to be whispering into her ear and her face is aglow. She looks as a blushing bride-to-be should look when her groom-to-be whispers sweet nothings to her.  The last item is another newspaper clipping of Harrison and Marion’s official wedding announcement.  Simone told me about this article a few weeks back, but seeing it in my own hands makes my heart plummet.

I have to keep reminding myself that it’s not real.  He is not marrying her.  It’s all a sham.

My mind knows better, but my heart does not trust.  I have been hurt so much already, and my gut says more pain is on the way.  I just have to decide if I want to brace myself for the blows or sit it out until this is resolved.  Either way, this is going to get worse before it gets better.  That fact is made more obvious  by this delivery and everything that has transpired in the last few weeks.  It is hard to believe that so much has happened in such a short time.  My usually quiet and subdued life has been set on its axis.  In some ways, it is scintillating, but in others, it is disturbing to the core.  I am shaken out of my thoughts by Albert.

“
Mademoiselle
?  You dropped this.”

I nod a ‘thanks,’ as he hands me a folded, white piece of paper.  I unfold it to reveal a typed note, written in memo format.

Date: October 3, 2011

From: A Concerned Citizen

To: Miss Austen

A gentle reminder of where you stand.  Back off.

I feel the blood drain from my face, and I stand there, staring at the words bouncing off the page.  A concerned citizen?  You mean, Marion is threatened by me.  But, why? She is in control here.  Or, is she?  I am tempted to crumple this damned letter, but I think better of it, knowing that I need to hand this over to Detective Burke next week. I almost forgot that I have an appointment with the Detective next Wednesday afternoon.  I am to meet with him about the timeline of the pictures that were plastered in my condo. 

Albert is standing next to me, peering over my hand to read the letter. He turns and heads toward the door.  I hear his phone ringing and he answers it, stepping out into the hallway.  Good, I can have a moment to collect myself.  I scan the room and see that nothing is out of place.  I find it odd that the heat was turned up so high.  I would remember if I had turned it up to 90!  I walk into my bedroom, and nothing seems amiss there either.  I poke my head into my bathroom and find nothing unusual.  Satisfied that all is well, I head back to the kitchen, when I notice something shiny on the floor near one of the barstool legs.  I pick it up and examine it in my hand.  It appears to be a cufflink.  It is certainly not mine.  I walk into the kitchen, grab a plastic baggie out of the drawer, and drop the object into the bag.  I’ll add this to my items to give the detective.

I see the dried up carnations still sitting on the counter.  I pick them up and toss them into the garbage can.  The detective took the card as evidence; I’m happy not to have to see it now.  Looking at the envelope and cuff link in my hand, a cold chill crawls up my spine, resting on the back of my neck.  I am so sick of feeling creeped out all of the time.

I look around the room one more time before I get ready to lock up.  I confirm in that instant that I no longer wish to live here.  I am officially moving.  I decide to call my realtor when I get back from Palm Springs .  Once the door is locked, I stand in the hallway looking for Albert.  He is nowhere to be seen.  This makes me feel nervous, I can’t imagine where he would have gone.   I start to walk around the corner to the elevators when the lumbering giant instantly appears.  I shriek and jump a foot in the air.

“
Pardon Moi
!  I did not mean to frighten you.  That call was
Monsieur
Towers.  I told him of the package.  You are to contact him at your earliest convenience.”

I sigh.  “I will call him soon.  I am done here and ready to return to the house.”

He nods.  “
Oui
.”

We head down the elevator, to the lobby.  I notice that Frank is not at his usual post, so we breeze through the lobby and out into the cold and rainy fall weather.

Once back at the house, I can feel Simone’s energy before we even enter the front door.  I open the door to an ecstatic Henry, followed by Simone, who seems equally enthused.  She rushes toward me with a champagne glass in her hand and some chocolate on the corner of her mouth.  “Here darling, we are officially on vacation now!!”  She pushes the glass into my hand and dances a cha-cha.  She turns and prances the rest of the way toward the kitchen.  I turn to look up at Frankenstein, who has a bewildered look on his face.  He must regret Harrison putting him on this assignment.  I put down my purse and briefcase by the door.  Henry nudges me with his nose, so I give him a pat.  I join Simone in the kitchen and take a long sip of the bubbly.  It tickles my nose and I giggle.  It looks as if a gift basket has exploded in the kitchen.  An enormous basket, outfitted with candy, chocolate, wine, champagne, cheeses, fruit and crackers, sits in the middle of the island. Cellophane wrapping and basket excelsior spills out in every direction.  Simone stops taking inventory of the basket long enough to turn and give me the once over.

“Hey, why don’t you take that rain jacket off and stay a while?”

I giggle again and slip out of my jacket, hanging it over the back of one of the tall bar stool..  I climb onto the stool and help myself to a chocolate from the open box sitting in front of me.  “So, who sent you the basket?”

She has a devious look on her face.  “Oh, just our host for the weekend.  How delicious is this?” She waves her and over the assortment like Vanna White showing off contest prizes.  “I think I see dinner here.  How about you?”

“Hmmm tempting, but I think I may have Thai leftovers for actual dinner.”

“Yeah, about that. I was having another work-from-home day, so no leftovers honey.  It looks like it’s gourmet cheese and wine for dinner!  Besides, it will gives us a jump on our weekend!”

“Fine, I’m not starving anyway.”  I go back to the front door and pull the envelope out of my briefcase.  I take it in the kitchen and set it on the tiled countertop.  Simone looks at the envelope and then at me.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

She reaches in the envelope and pulls out the contents.  She looks over the pictures and reads the letter.

“Dani, this is getting ridiculous.  Where did you get this?”  She says, as she flips the envelope to look at the postmark and address.

“We stopped by my condo today to check on things after I spent some time in my office.  When we got there, the heat was cranked up to 90.  You didn’t turn it up while we were there, did you?”

She cackles at me,  “Um, no.  Why the hell would I do that?  That’s random.  Do you think someone was in your condo again?”

“Well yeah,  what other explanation would there be?”

“Was there anything out of place?  Or was something mysteriously left for you to find?”

I reach into my briefcase and pull out the plastic baggie.  “No, nothing was left on purpose.”  I hold up the bag for her to see.  She reaches out to take it, and I yank back on the bag.  “You probably shouldn’t touch it.  I already did today, without thinking.  It could have a print that the police can lift.  I’ll take it to the detective next week.”

“Oh, boy.  The plot just keeps getting thicker and thicker.”

“I know!  You don’t have to tell me!”

She straightens up quickly, darting her eyes toward the clock on the microwave.  “Oh shit, we need to go check in for our flights.  Our seats are assigned, but I always like to check in right at the 24-hour mark, so my seat doesn’t magically get filled by someone else.  Do you know how many times that has happened to me while on business trips?”

She heads to the dining table and sits at her laptop.  I move over to where she was standing so I can get a full view of all the goodies from the basket.  Wow, this guy spared no expense.  There is even Russian Caviar.  I am not a big caviar connoisseur, but my mom has always been a fan.  When I was in college, someone brought her a can from Russia and she raved about it for months.  I find it gross, myself.

“What the hell?!”  Simone squawks from her computer. 

“What’s the matter?”  I walk over to stand behind her and look over her shoulder at the screen.  She is pointing at the e-ticket.

“Well, nothing is the matter, but I’d like to know just how I got upgraded to first class.  Trust me, I sure as hell am not paying for that.”

I look at her status, and it does show an upgraded ticket.  “Hmm, since you bought my ticket, do you have to check in for me, or can I do it?”