Kill the Competition (34 page)

"It was on the eleven o'clock news," Carole said, turning around in her seat. "They showed Margo's picture and Jim Newberry's."

"Was my name mentioned?"

"Oh, yeah. And they showed your car being towed away."

Great. Libby offered her a doughnut, but she shook her head—her stomach was still a little on the puny side.

"When the police showed up at my door last night," Libby said, talking even faster than usual, "I thought it was about the missing money. I couldn't believe it when they told me Margo was dead, and that you had found the body in your trunk. Now I feel kind of bad about how many times I slammed on the brake while I was driving your car—she was probably bouncing around back there like a sack of potatoes."

"Libby,"
Rosemary chided.

"I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking." She turned to look at Belinda. "Good gravy, when you opened the trunk, did you freak plumb out?"

"You could say that."

"Those two detectives were pretty sneaky," Libby said. "They tried to get me to say I thought you did it."

"Me, too," Carole said.

"Same here," Rosemary added. The pinch between her eyebrows had become a distinct furrow.

Belinda wet her lips. "What did you guys say?"

"Well," Libby said, her voice higher than normal, "I told them about the disagreement you had with Margo last week—but that was no secret."

Belinda's stomach began to gurgle.

"And they asked if I heard Jim Newberry threaten Margo, but I told them you were the only one. Even Brita said she couldn't hear anything from her desk."

Her stomach bucked, but it was, fortunately, empty. So she was the only person who had heard Jim Newberry threaten to kill Margo, and the woman had been found in her car. There had to be a word to describe that kind of coincidence, but all she could think of at the moment was
unlucky.

"But that was all I said," Libby declared.

"I didn't tell them anything," Carole declared. "I don't trust the police."

Belinda glanced at Rosemary, who shook her head. "I told them they'd be better off looking for Jim Newberry than asking questions about you. I'm surprised you're going to work today."

Belinda stifled a yawn. "I thought it was better than sitting at home." Although now she was rethinking that thought.

"Well, I doubt if anyone gets much done today," Libby said. "Do you know if Mr. Archer is coming in, Rosemary?"

"I doubt it. The news really hit him hard."

Belinda worried the inside of her lip with her teeth. Since Margo probably hadn't had a chance to talk to anyone about stalling the acquisition before she'd
departed,
approaching Juneau Archer and confessing the truth about the Payton financials would be the only responsible thing to do. The CEO would probably fire her on the spot, but at least she would have a clearer conscience. And she could relinquish some of this crushing guilt that the bad kismet she had put out into the universe had somehow set into motion this series of terrible events.

She leaned her head back and strained to hear Julian's voice on the radio. His sexy voice never failed to soften her, hut his cheer seemed forced this morning, his accent more exaggerated, his comments about careless drivers more biting. Regret overwhelmed her for involving him in this mess. The police had most certainly already talked to him about the murder, so she would be surprised if she ever heard from him again. On the other hand, considering what Wade had told her about Julian's womanizing, she wasn't so sure that was such a bad thing. Of course she hadn't objected when she was the woman being
ized.

The morning sun slanting through the window felt so comforting on her face, almost maternal. She closed her eyes. It was heaven not to have to drive.

"Belinda, don't go to sleep!" Libby said. "Tell us
something."

She fought another yawn and lost. "I read the DOs and DON'Ts manuscript, and I thought it was great."

"Really?"

"Really. And I have another one for you—'DON'T forget that men are unnecessary.'"

"Let her sleep," Rosemary said. "She's been through hell, and a person can only take so much."

"Yeah, well, we're proof of that."

"Be quiet, Libby. Do your hair."

Belinda heard them through a haze as she sank deeper into the seat. The steady rhythm of the tires on pavement and the gentle sway of the car was... so...

Sexy. Like Wade Alexander's smile, when he let himself... his ex-wife had taken his smile with her... taken his smile and left a cat... like Vince... Red Rover, Red Rover, make Belinda start over...

A murmur of voices came to her... Libby... Carole... Rosemary... drinking martinis... poor Jeanie in the wrong place, wrong time... Margo had gotten what she deserved... what goes around comes around... as long as everyone keeps their mouth shut... everything will be fine...

She was crossing the street with a man... Julian... from around the curve came a speeding car... she couldn't move... she didn't want to move... exhilarating terror gripped her just before impact—

She started awake. Fear drained from her slowly, like a bathtub full of cold water, drawing off to leave a person even colder. She shivered and tried to focus on the passing scenery. She felt as if she'd closed her eyes for only a few seconds, but they were nearing the Stratford Building. She wet her lips and tasted Aqua Net. Gradually she tuned in to the conversation around her.

"...maybe Margo was the person Ricky was referring to when he said something bad was going to happen to someone I'm close to," Carole was saying.

"You and Margo weren't close," Rosemary said.

"We were close in proximity."

"When?"

"Whenever I delivered her confidential envelopes."

"That's a stretch," Libby said. "Hey, sleeping beauty, are you awake?"

Belinda sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry about that."

"Feeling better?" Carole asked.

Belinda nodded, but the remnants of her troubling dreams still hunkered in the corners of her mind. Had she imagined the conversation between the women? It had seemed so real... but then so had the car racing toward her. It must have been how Margaret Mitchell had felt, paralyzed with fear, marveling over the sheer absurdity of her life ending in such a trivial fashion.

Here lies Belinda Hennessey. She was caught off guard.

Rosemary slowed to turn into the parking garage, then buzzed down her window and swiped her employee badge to trigger the steel arm to raise. As they drove up and around, eyes peeled for an empty parking space, Belinda fought a rising sense of panic. Everything about the building had taken on an eerie quality—dark corners and shadowy twists and turns.

The entire eighth floor of the garage had been cordoned off, no stretch of the imagination as to why. Belinda's heart rate speeded up. They climbed to the twelfth floor before they found an empty spot. Rosemary parked, and they all took their time rolling out. Belinda looked around nervously, expecting to see Jim Newberry jump out from behind every concrete column.

"This ought to be an interesting day," Libby said as they walked toward the elevator bays. "Well, what do you know, they finally got the sixth elevator fixed."

Belinda stared at the clean spot across the doors, where the Out of Order sticker had been, and she started to perspire. She wasn't normally a touchy-feely person, but this building seemed to vibrate with bad karma. "I'm taking the stairs."

"Are you okay?" Libby asked.

Belinda nodded, pushed open the door to the stairwell, and exhaled. Perhaps, she thought as she gripped the handrail and descended at a child's pace, she
should
have stayed home today. It was ludicrous to think that she or anyone at Archer could simply go on about their business. Margo was still too alive in her memory to be dead. By the time Belinda reached the eighth floor, she was imagining she could smell the woman's overpowering perfume.

Too many elements in her life were spinning out of control. She longed for the unexciting existence she'd enjoyed before moving to Atlanta, with her future mapped out in tedious detail. Tears of frustration pricked at her eyelids, but she blinked them away. So many things were out of kilter, could she ever set them right?

As Belinda walked through the Archer reception area, conversations halted and people stared. She strode to her cubicle, her skin prickling from their unabashed fascination. Her head felt light—the lack of sleep and the stress of the previous day were catching up to her. When she entered her cube, she dropped into one of her mismatched chairs and breathed deeply until the stars subsided. Fatigue pulled at her shoulders, tears threatened. Her phone rang, startling her—an external call. She inhaled and picked up the receiver, determined to sound normal.

"Belinda Hennessey."

"Belinda, it's Julian."

Her pulse jumped. "Julian... hello."

"God, I heard about everything." From the background noise, she could tell he was calling from a cell phone. His voice rose and fell as if he were walking. "I tried to call you last night, but I couldn't get through."

"I stopped answering the phone," she murmured. "Reporters, you know." Then she caught her gaffe. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"My colleagues can be annoying, I know. How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay, considering."

"I'm surprised to find you at work today."

"The police encouraged me to maintain my routine. I assume they've talked to you, too?"

"Yes, they questioned me about taking you home Monday night."

"I'm so sorry to have gotten you involved."

"It isn't your fault." His breathing was labored. "I can't imagine what you've been going through. Have the police been bullying you? Alexander?"

"Um, no." Her thoughts flicked to what Wade had said about Julian and his ex-wife, and she thought it best to change the subject. "Everyone will be much happier when Jim Newberry is found."

"He's the man who threatened your boss?"

"Yes."

"He has to turn up sooner or later."

"Where are you calling from? I heard you on the radio only a few minutes ago."

"I just landed. But I'm headed to Chattanooga for a couple of days of flight training. I wanted to check on you before I left."

Her first thought was that they were supposed to have had lunch this week. Her second thought was that she really didn't mind them not. Still, he had called. "That's very kind of you, Julian."

A shadow fell over her desk. When she looked up, her mouth parted slightly at the sight of Wade Alexander in uniform standing in the opening of her cubicle. He looked... good. And irritated.

"If the police badger you about my involvement," Julian said, "let me know, and my boss will have it stopped."

"Um, no," she said hurriedly, holding up her finger to indicate to Wade that she'd he off the phone in one minute. "That won't be necessary."

"Just don't let them push you around, okay? I'll call you soon."

"Okay. Good-bye." She hung up and manufactured a smile for Wade. "Hello."

A vein had popped out in his temple. "Hardeman?"

"Yes. He was checking on me."

"That makes two of us. Did you get any rest last night?"

"No." And from the shadows under his eyes, she suspected he hadn't fared much better. "Has Jim Newberry been found?"

"No." He pushed his hand into his hair. "I hate to hit you with this first thing, but can you come back to Ms. Campbell's office? We want to go over a few details."

Belinda nodded and pushed to her feet—too quickly. The blood rushed to her head, and she swayed. Wade was there with a big steadying arm. "Easy. Have you had anything to eat this morning?"

She shook her head.

"Have a seat—I'll be back with some food and coffee."

She nodded gratefully. When he disappeared, she took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and dialed Juneau Archer's office. Rosemary answered.

"Rosemary, it's Belinda. Did Mr. Archer make it in?"

"No. He's not feeling well, probably because of the news. He said he'd try to be in tomorrow. I guess you'll want to talk to him about divvying up Margo's duties."

"Among other things."

"I'll make sure he knows."

"Thanks, Rosemary."

"Belinda." Rosemary's voice held an odd note. "I'm sorry all of this happened... to you. It wasn't supposed to be this way."

Alarm filtered through her chest. "Rosemary, what do you mean?"

"I know you came to Atlanta to start a new life. I'm sorry it's turning out so badly. You don't deserve this."

"Thank you, Rosemary." Belinda swallowed. "Your concern means a lot to me." She hung up, part of her relieved to be able to delay the discussion with Mr. Archer, part of her desperate to get it over with, all of her perplexed by Rosemary's behavior. Why did she have the feeling that the girls knew something she didn't know?

A rap sounded on her cubicle wall. Clancy Edmunds stood there, wide-eyed and twitchy. "Hi, Belinda."