Otter Under Fire (12 page)

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Authors: Dakota Rose Royce

BOOK: Otter Under Fire
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Otter woke to Spooky sitting on her chest, demanding breakfast. It was six in the morning. Darned cats, she thought, they never got the concept of late nights, holidays or weekends. She usually fed them at four in the morning before she went to work, but on weekends she wanted to sleep in, particularly when she was up half the night. Cats didn’t give a rip about her sleeping in; they could sleep whenever they wanted. They were after kitty crunchies and lots of them.

She put on a robe and staggered out to the kitchen to the chorus of starving furry beings. That was going to be her next gadget; she decided sleepily, a cat feeder she could program to drop food into a dish at a prescribed time. It couldn’t be that difficult and it would make her life a lot more pleasant. She headed back to bed, but remembered to text Susan and asked her if she wanted to come by for brunch. Since Susan’s husband was typically working on Sundays, she was normally free to visit.

Her phone rang at eight. It was the weekend supervisor at AzTech about a problem with a special run. They talked about it for a bit, figured out a solution and after apologizing for bothering her, he went back to fix the problem and get the job finished.

May as well get up, she thought and got dressed in black jeans and a purple, short sleeved sweater. Her feet still twanging, she put on black imitation snakeskin sandals with a low heel. She checked her phone and there was a text from Susan saying she would be there at ten and another text from Joel with the information on the Chinese restaurant for dinner later that week.

After a quick peek in Tempest’s wing to see if her purse and keys were on her chair where she usually left them, Otter went into the kitchen and began assembling the brunch she promised Susan. She made a pitcher of orange pineapple juice from concentrate and made enough crusts for three quiches. She decided to make three because the leftovers would be great for lunches during the week or dinner in a pinch. She mixed up the filling for the crusts. One was going to be spinach, roast beef and cheddar. One would be ham, mushroom and Swiss and the last one would be green pepper, pepperoni and 3 cheeses. She cut up fruit and made a fruit salad and put it in the coldest part of the refrigerator. She made a small carafe of coffee and a larger one of spiced tea to be iced.

The quiches were in the oven for only a few minutes when Tempest came in.

“You know I can’t sleep if I can smell food,” she grumbled. She was perfectly made up and wearing a red V-neck, blue jeans and black boots. “Who is the breakfast for, Joel?”

“No, Susan is coming over for brunch.”

“You mean he didn’t stay over?”

“No, he carried something in for me, kissed me on the forehead and left. His job called him.”

“That’s it?”

“Well we have a date for dinner later this week.”

“And he just kissed you on the forehead?”

“Yes,”

Tempest’s eyes narrowed. “The bastard, he has no right to treat you like that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s going to brush you off, give you the ‘let’s be friends’ speech.”

“Probably not right away. I didn’t tell you what we found on the porch when we got here.”

“Oh, what was that, another dead body?’

“Not quite,” Otter went into her sitting room and brought out the freshly charged computer and the Jabberwocky. “This was waiting for me, with my name on it.”

Tempest just stared for a minute. “This is crazy. Who left this for you? Do you think it was the widow?”

“They didn’t leave a name, so I don’t know.” Otter said drily.

“So this is why you asked Susan over for brunch.”

“Well I often ask Susan over for brunch on a Sunday morning, but yeah, this was the motivation today.”

“Does she know?”

“I didn’t tell her. I figured she needed to see it.”

“And this is why you think Joel will hang around for a while.”

“Unfortunately,”

“Well there are more where he came from.”

“The morgue? I don’t think I want anyone else from there.”

“That’s not what I meant, silly. I meant we can find you lots of other men.”

“You know, I’m thinking it would be nice to have a steady guy for a change,” Otter said as she opened the oven to check on her pies. “I’m tired of the serial dating.”

“You had an awfully late night last night,” Tempest said, “You’re just tired.”

“No, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I believe I’m ready to stick with one guy. I know it will take a while to find one who wants to be serious with me, but I think I’m ready to start looking. Johnny was a long time ago.”

“Wow, ok. If that’s what you want, then that’s what you want.”

Otter started taking the quiches out of the oven and putting them on hot pads on the butcher block island. Tempest set the table and folded the napkins into fancy shapes just as Susan knocked on the front door.

She brought Duke, much to Stella’s delight. The trim little kitty came running out of Otter’s room, trotted right up to him and smacked him on the face. She turned and ran back in the direction of Otter’s room, with Duke hot on her tail.

“It’s amazing how much they like playing together,” Susan said taking off her jacket. “When Duke realizes we are coming here, he gets all excited.”

“Well he likes the pool too,” Otter said, hanging Susan’s coat in the closet.

“Of course, but I think he likes coming for his little buddy the most.”

“Could be,”

“I have some good news for you Otter. A detective said he would look at Clark’s case.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“Well I had to vouch for you to a couple of them before Addison said he’d take a look. Once he said he would, I gave him the appointment book and told him about Marvin Jones. He said he’d reach out to Michigan and see what they say.”

“I have more,” Otter said gesturing to the counter. “Someone left this on my doorstep.”

“Someone sure wants you to be involved in this.” She looked at the box that Otter brought out. “Interesting they just put your formal name of Mackenzie on the label. They didn’t use your nickname of Otter nor your last name and there is no address written on it either.”

“Yeah, we noticed that,” Otter said.

“We?”

“Joel and I,” Otter said. “I ran into him while I was at an event for Tempest’s client and he offered to drive me home.”

“I thought you were going to some kind of sex toy expo or something, you ran into Joel
there
?”

“Of course, she didn’t,” Tempest chimed in, “When the police showed up in response to a prank call, he came out of the restaurant next door.”

“Oh my God, I heard about this. It’s been going around all the departments. There was something about a dominatrix party 911 call and a drop house that turned out to be a hoax and there were lots of women in black leather and high heeled boots and there were slaves and all sorts of crazy talk. You mean it was real?”

“Well, yeah,” Tempest said. “And this guy drives Otter home and leaves after giving her a kiss on the forehead. Can you believe it?”

“He’s probably just being a gentleman,” Susan said. “They haven’t actually been out on a date yet.”

“Nobody acts like a gentleman to my best friend,” Tempest muttered.

“It’s not an insult Tempest,” Otter said. She turned to Susan, “He and I are having dinner later this week.”

“He just wants to talk about the murder,” Tempest said. “I don’t trust him one bit.”

“Then there’s this box,” Otter said, trying to change the subject. “I have no idea who it’s from. I’m thinking it may be related to Clark because of the running joke we had about that poem.”

“Jabberwocky,” Susan said opening up the lap top. “A very weird poem if I remember correctly.” She touched some keys on the keyboard. “Password protected. Of course. Did he leave you any numbers?”

“No, he didn’t, try Jabberwocky for the heck of it.”

“Not working. Too easy is my guess.” Susan stopped messing with the computer and picked up the dragon. “Do you know if Clark was getting any money from the people he blackmailed?”

“According to his wife, he thought of himself as some kind of sword of Jesus Christ and he didn’t ask for money. Apparently at first he tried to force them to reform their evil ways. When that didn’t work he forced them to do little things for him. The IT guy says he asked for passwords and information.”

“Did he give it to him?”

“You don’t know our IT guy. He had a lot of fun making all kinds of fake passwords and giving him false information.”

“Maybe someone didn’t think it so funny and killed him,” Tempest said.

“Interesting little animal,” Susan said to Otter as she examined the toy.

“I think he’s kind of cute. I’ll put him with my dragon collection.”

“I looked over your blackmail list too,” Susan said, “You aren’t on there.”

“No and neither is Michael or any members of management.”

“My dad isn’t on there either,” Susan said with a hint of relief in her voice.

“Maybe he has another list for management,” Tempest said.

“Good heavens, I hope not,” Otter said.

“We don’t know for sure what this nonsense is,” Susan gestured to the lap top with the toy. “So there is no point in taking it right now. I took everything else you gave me into evidence and gave it to Detective Addison. He plans to get in touch with you and he will have a lot of questions.”

“Thanks Susan. I really appreciate it.”

“If you’re right, we need to find a killer and you may be in some danger. I can’t ‘not do’ something.”

“I appreciate it all the same.”

“Let’s get some food,” Tempest said. “That’s the reason you came over here, isn’t it?

Susan saw the table and grinned at both of them. “This is so pretty! You’re making me feel so special.”

“If we can’t glam up breakfast once in a while, then life would not be worth living.” Tempest said as she took the juice out of the refrigerator as well as the fruit salad.

“You are special,” Otter said as she cut slices of quiche and put them on plates, “but it’s just fun to put together a little informal elegance once in a while.”

“Do you know,” Susan said as she pulled out her chair, “That I buy dresses just so I have something special to wear to your house? I rarely have occasion to dress like a girl, and your little events make me feel like one.”

“Me too,” Otter said and made Susan laugh. “Tempest dresses up all the time but you and me—we have to wear uniforms and regulation shoes. It’s nice to be reminded that we’re women.”

“Oh, and the Halloween dance, I got to go and buy a dress for that too.”

“Me too,” Otter said, “I got a flowing blue dress with silver sparkles in it with a really nice drape so it moves right when I dance.”

“Who are you taking?”

“One of my customers, a guy named Bob. He goes dancing with me once in a while.” Otter said taking a napkin and putting it on her lap.

“So when did you talk to Clark’s wife?” Susan asked, taking a bite of fruit salad.

“I took some of Clark’s things to her yesterday,” Otter said, “Oh shoot; I forgot to tell you that. She knew he was blackmailing people, but claims she didn’t know to what extent. She got agitated when I suggested he might have been murdered. She and Clark were separated because they didn’t agree on this ‘Christ’s Sword’ thing and the last time she saw him he was having a meal with a blond woman in a diner next to the place where he was staying.”

“You certainly gathered a lot in a small amount of time.”

“And as I was leaving, that kid I told you about—Jeremy Redding—drove up to see Clark’s wife. She did not look happy to see him.”

“I’ll pass everything on to the detective. He’s going to have a lot to sort through.”

“Something just occurred to me,” Otter said, “I need to tell Michael and Mitch about this. I don’t want them to hear about it when a detective shows up in the office.”

“That would probably be a good idea,” Susan said.

“I hate to be the one to tell them,” Otter said, “I hope it doesn’t break Michael’s heart. He had a lot of faith in Clark.”

Chapter 7

 

India international text service:
Hello Tempest, this is your mother, Viola Blackthorn Claremont.

Blackthorn Marketing:
Mom, I know it’s you. You don’t have to spell out your full name.

India international text service:
I hope I didn’t wake you, I know you hate to get up early, but rising early is good for you.

Blackthorn Marketing:
You didn’t wake me because it’s 6pm. I told you about the time difference. How is your trip so far?

India international text service:
I am enjoying India immensely. Today we are going on a tour of Old and New Delhi. Tomorrow we are going to the birthplace of Lord Krishna.

India international text service:
Apparently Lord Krishna is a very popular guy here. I’m going to read up on him tonight.

Tempest sighed to herself; there was no point in trying to educate her mother.

Blackthorn Marketing:
I’m glad you’re having a good time, mom. How is Mr. Devon taking care of you?

India international text service:
Oh, he’s very competent, but I’m afraid he is in poor health. He’s been taking stomach pills and headache pills since we got here.

Tempest had hand-picked Mr. Devon herself to guide her mother and her mother’s church group through some of the spiritual places in India. He was quite adamant that he could handle Viola and her friends with no problem.

Blackthorn Marketing:
When did the pill taking start?

India international text service:
I didn’t notice it until after I had the elephant ride. It was quite exciting. The handler actually understood English and he was quite happy to accommodate me.

India international text service:
Mr. Devon didn’t approve of using a handler that he didn’t know, but it is my vacation and I didn’t see the harm.

Blackthorn Marketing:
So what happened then?

India international text service:
Well, the elephant just mis-stepped and crashed into a market stall. Nobody was hurt and I told Mr. Devon I was fine.

Blackthorn Marketing:
Where was the elephant’s trainer?

India international text service:
He turned away for a moment, and told me to wait, but I figured that since I paid the money I should enjoy my ride.

India international text service:
And I think Mr. Devon has some blood pressure problems too. His face goes all red and sometimes purple. Are you sure you checked to make sure he was fit enough to travel?

Teach him to think he had things under control, Tempest thought.

India international text service:
And day after tomorrow, we get to see the Taj Mahal. Then we are going on an overnight train ride.

Blackthorn Marketing:
I’m jealous, it sounds really fantastic.

India international text service:
Oh and I met this lovely man and he was so handsome. He kept telling me he wanted to come to the United States.

India international text service:
And after only a few days, he asked me to marry him. I was so flattered because he is so much younger than me

India international text service:
But as you know I already have a husband, so I had to turn him down. It would have been highly inappropriate, what would people at my church think?

Blackthorn Marketing:
I’m sure he was very disappointed mom.

Somewhat alarming, but not unusual with her mother, Tempest thought, Viola was a woman who forced her way between raindrops. Sometimes the people around her tended to get splashed now and again.

India international text service:
I have to go or I will miss the tour bus. My love to you and Otter, the puppies and the cats, and I’ll bring you back presents.

Blackthorn Marketing:
Bye mom, love you.

 

Otter drove to work feeling moody. Joel hadn’t contacted her again about dinner and what day they were supposed to meet. She hoped that wasn’t his typical pattern of turning up unexpectedly and then disappearing just as suddenly. Annie gloated about her newly painted porch on the drive to work and how much fun she had with all the “kids” that came over to help. Otter almost wished she had been there to see it, but knew she already had enough problems.

When she got to work, her mind automatically shifted to production mode and she made her way around the shop to check on all the departments and schedules. Everything looked good which lifted her spirits considerably so she went to her office, her purse and lunch bag still tucked under her arm.

The door was ajar which wasn’t all that unusual, but the room had been trashed. She stared in frozen horror at the unlocked, general filing cabinet that had been emptied on the floor, Clark’s box was turned over and searched through and it looked like someone tried to get into her locked filing cabinet that held her confidential documents.

She realized that she should have put her tampons in the locked cabinet too, as they were scattered all over the floor as well. She became indignant—why would anyone think she’d hide something in a box of tampons?

“Wow, Mackenzie, you really have a mess in here,” Ron Defray said from behind her.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” she said as she unlocked her cabinet and put her purse in there. She opened the mini fridge and put her lunch inside and turned to face him.

“Do you have any idea who did this?” He asked.

“Not yet, but the day is still young.”

“OMG, you keep those in your office?” He said in sincere shock. Otter looked where he was pointing and saw the pile of sanitary supplies.

“Of course,” she shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“This is a work place, that kind of thing doesn’t belong in here.”

“Why, because nobody lets you borrow any?”

“I always know when you girls have your periods,” Ron Defray smirked at her, “You all get so moody and snotty.” He ran his bullet casing along its chain.

“So what would be your reason for being moody and snotty? Are you in biological sync with us?”

“Ron Defray, you could be easily replaced by a hemorrhoid,” Sandy said in her five-pack-a-day voice. On the phone she had been mistaken for a man more than once. “Maybe you should just walk away before people start thinking you did this and came to gloat.”

“Now you listen…” Defray said, beginning to get red in the face.

“Walk away, Defray, just walk away.” Sandy said, shooing him with her hands.

“I think it would be a good idea for you to walk away right now Mr. Defray,” Mitch said in his heavily accented voice. “You are obviously causing turmoil.”

Ron Defray stood for a moment looking like he wanted to say something else, and then thought better of it. He tucked his bullet casing on a chain into his shirt, turned on his heel and marched off down the hall.

“Good heavens, what happened to your office?” Mitch asked Otter.

“I have suspicions someone was looking for something. I need to have a meeting with you and Michael at your earliest convenience,” Otter said. “I think we have a very serious situation here and it needs to be addressed.”

“Don’t tell me that you already want to withdraw from the shop coordinator position? That would be very disappointing.”

“Oh no! Nothing like that, it may be related to this and a lot of other issues.”

“Very well, Michael and I will be free at ten o’clock. We can meet then.”

“Thank you.”

“You have a hell of a mess here girl,” Sandy said as she watched Mitch’s retreating back.

“I know. I have to get someone to clean it up. I don’t have time to do it myself.”

“I’ll do it. The new girl is doing my stuff for me this morning and I need to stop hovering over her. It won’t take but a few minutes, since I put it together the first time.”

“Thanks, Sandy; you’re a super hero today.”

“Yeah, I am pretty awesome,” she said as she crouched down to sort the files, “but it sure fucking hurt when they tattooed that red ‘S” on my chest.”

 

“Clark McCartney was attempting to control and threaten nearly half the people in this shop.” Otter began. She was sitting in the conference room across from Michael and Mitch. They were both looking at her in utter shock.

“He confiscated Nolan’s grandfather’s knife and told him he destroyed it, but he kept it in his desk like a trophy. He gathered dirt from people’s pasts and used it to make them give him information.”

“Do you have proof of this?” Michael asked.

Otter produced a copy of the list from her computer.

“Here is his hit list of all the people he had on his radar and why. I don’t think he has anyone from management on this list, which seems kind of odd. If he was looking to control the shop, a member of management was what he would need.”

“How did you get involved in this in the first place?” Mitch asked.

“Well, things started showing up in my office to my attention,” Otter answered, not wanting to bring Greg into it. “This last weekend things were left on my front porch. Someone wanted me to know what Clark had been up to-- maybe several someones. Either way when it started coming to my home, I figured the police needed to be involved so I turned everything over to them.”

“You turned everything over to the police?” Mitch nearly shouted.

“She did what I think she had to do,” Michael said quietly to Mitch. He turned to Otter. “Thank you for letting us know what’s been happening.”

“You should have told us first,” Mitch said.

“I didn’t think it was going to be such a big deal,” Otter said.

“I wish I had known about this when he was alive,” Michael said, “Then we could have fixed it easily.”

Otter realized that Michael was coldly furious and it scared her a little. She was used to him losing his temper and yelling. This chilled anger was way more frightening.

“Then there are people murmuring that maybe someone on his list killed him, he didn’t kill himself.” Otter said. “I keep telling everyone I’m an engineer, not a detective and want to keep it that way. If there is anything to find, the police will find it.”

“That’s probably the best thing,” Mitch said. “They will go through everything and find out he killed himself and we can all stop wondering about it.”

“Oh and this morning when I came in, I discovered that someone had gone through my office. They left everything on the floor. I’m assuming that it’s related to this, as I see no other reason for someone to dig through my office like that when it’s much easier to ask me for what they want.”

“Once we find out this is all nothing,” Mitch emphasized, “Then we can all get back to work and forget about this unfortunate incident.”

“Mitch is right, Otter, it is all probably nothing,” Michael said looking her in the eye. “You should go back to work now and not worry about it.”

“You’re probably right, Michael,” Otter admitted, gathering up her things to go, “I need to get back on the floor.”

“Just let us know if there are any other things happening,” Mitch said as she reached the door. “We would like to know.”

“Of course,” Otter said and left.

“Do you think she will stay out of it?” Mitch asked Michael.

“She has a logical mind. She won’t pursue something that doesn’t make sense. Once the police find a rational explanation, she’ll be ok with it.”

“I hope you’re right, Michael. This place is chaotic enough without some other craziness in the mix.”

“And Otter knows that. She will do what needs to be done.”

It was an open secret that Otter took her lunch in the locked classroom. Sometimes Annie joined her and sometimes she ate by herself, but it was 30 minutes in the middle of the day when she could have some peace and a break from the action on the floor. Everyone knew they could call her on her cell phone if they really needed her, but otherwise they were to leave her alone unless it was an emergency.

This is why Otter was a little surprised when Michael unlocked the door and came in.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Michael said as he wedged himself into a desk.

“Of course not,” Otter said, sitting up a little straighter.

“You’ve worked for me for quite a while and I like to think I know you pretty well. I get the impression that you know a lot more than you told us in the conference room this morning.”

“Yeah, I do,” Otter admitted, “but it seemed to get Mitch agitated so I figured it best to minimize everything and not share the details.”

“Mitch is a great general manager, but he doesn’t like any disruption to his world,” Michael said, “You and I know that disruption is a natural occurrence and we adjust accordingly.”

“This is true.”

“So would you do me the courtesy of telling me the entire story including your speculations and everyone you’ve talked to.”

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