The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag (16 page)

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Authors: Jennifer L. Hart

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BOOK: The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag
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He stroked my back. “Candie Valentino?” He asked.

“You know me too well.” I mumbled. “There’s no mystery left in our relationship.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Neil kissed my neck and I sighed and shook my head.

He really was too patient with me and I felt compelled to apologize again for ditching him last night. “I’m sorry about dinner.”

He pulled back and searched my eyes for a moment. “Yeah, me too. I feel so cheap and used after yesterday morning….”

I chuckled. “You do not so quit trying to guilt me. Besides, I promised you a rain check and my agenda is clear for the next forty-eight hours. How about tonight?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Neil agreed, then groaned when the alarm on his phone sounded. “God, I hate this!” He reached over and silenced the noise.

“By this you mean…?”

“This damn schedule. I don’t mind the twelve hour shifts normally, but I’m starting to believe I should just sleep at work until this damn project is resolved.”

I didn’t like that idea at all. “How much longer do you think—?”

“No frigging clue. It’s like all the engineers have us running around chasing our tails while they dither about minutiae that gets us nowhere. The back-up power supply, the electrician, the frigging color of the processor for chrissakes. Borrowing trouble and squandering time if you ask me.” He rose gracefully from the air mattress but for once I wasn’t fixated on his backside.

“Power supply?” I asked my voice faint and hollow in my own ears. “Which company are they using?”

Neil pulled a T-shirt over his head and stepped into a faded pair of blue jeans. “Changes from minute to minute. The bid went to Safari, but there have been a few glitches with the latest model for upgrades and the higher-ups are nervous; don’t want to take the risk. But they’ve already shelled out a tanker’s worth of capitol to buy a contract and no one wants to eat that kind of loss.”

“I didn’t think Intel would outsource like that.” Intel was the lifeblood of our community. If you didn’t work there, someone you knew did. Intel employees donated time and money and equipment to help upgrade the schools, library and even the Hudson P.D. Heck the new theatre at the high school had been named after the company. I couldn’t fathom a situation where they looked outside their own walls when they had many of the best technical minds in the country at their disposal.

“Budgets are tight everywhere and it doesn’t make sense to devote someone from manufacturing or design to come up with a solution when we could purchase one with a lot less cost and effort.”

His explanation made sense. A great deal of sense, but I couldn’t get past Valentino’s involvement. “The man’s dirty Neil, I can feel it.” I pounded on my chest for emphasis.

“His wife was kidnapped and someone’s been sending him gruesome warnings. That doesn’t make him Snidely Whiplash.”

I almost told him about my cleaning job at Safari the night before, but I didn’t want to fight with him when he was on his way to work and already in a pissy mood. The more I thought on it, I was sure Valentino had only played ignorant when we’d been introduced yesterday. Not that I was particularly memorable, but coupled with the fact that he’d granted me a boon and not had my hide arrested for snooping, something was off.

And with my day free, I was determined to find out what.

 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

I might be able to get into this exercise thing.
I told myself as I stumbled back up the hill. Not that I was enjoying the physical exertion, but it gave me a good reason to check out the house where Neil had stopped yesterday. His car wasn’t in the drive this morning and I’d waited in my skulking spot for ten minutes, until my toes went numb. Eventually, I would break down and ask him why he’d stopped there, who owned the place and why he hadn’t told me about his detour, but for now, I’d go the Nancy Drew route.

My song—Blue Oyster Cult
Burning for You
—finished halfway up the hill and the only sound came from my sneakers hitting the pavement and a less pronounced wheezing. Tempted to stop and switch songs, I pushed harder, my thighs going from a slow burn to a fiery inferno. Almost there, a few more steps and the torture would be behind me. I promised my aching body I would reward it and walk the final half mile.

An engine purred from behind me and without looking I moved to the shoulder of the road. I had no idea what side I was supposed to be on, it wasn’t like driving a car, so I was jogging with the flow of traffic and would continue to do so until told otherwise.

“Mrs. Phillips?” I jumped at the sound of my name, glad the music was off. I wasn’t coordinated enough to jog and look over at the same time, so I slowed my pace to a walk.

“What…can I… do for… you?” I huffed. The silver car was a BMW and very new, judging from the look of it. The man who’d addressed me was unfamiliar, dressed in a gray suit with an exceptionally hideous red tie. Large sunglasses hid his eyes, but a friendly smile lit his face. The car and the suit was a little too over the top for my neighborhood and if he hadn’t called to me by name I would have assumed he was lost.

“My employer would like a moment of your time.” The man said with an apologetic smile. “If you would be so kind to get in the car, I’d be happy to give you a ride.”

“Who’s your employer?” I asked.

“Mr. Valentino.”

I stopped cold and the car, which had been keeping pace with me, did as well. “Are you kidding?” Had I passed out from lack of oxygen or stumbled into a mafia movie? Who the hell made an offer like that? Markus fricking Valentino, apparently.

The driver answered as if I’d asked a genuine question. “No Ma’am. If you would get into the vehicle please….” “Not gonna happen, buster.” I told him while searching for a shortcut he couldn’t follow.

Before I could decide on a course of action, the window in the rear of the car rolled down and a new voice commanded my attention. “Either get in the car, Mrs. Phillips or I’ll be forced to alert the authorities to your trespassing on my property.”

The man himself. Valentino’s eyes were hidden behind designer sunglasses, but I could feel the intensity focused on me. I really didn’t want to fend off the Hudson P.D. or—shudder—the feds. He had me over a barrel and he knew it, the smug bastard.

I drew up as tall as my five-foot four-inch frame allowed and reached for the handle. Valentino slid over, probably wanting some distance between his Armani suit and my sweaty stench. The leather interior cradled my sore backside and I took a moment to feel for my cell phone, ready to call in the cavalry—or Marty—if the situation went south.

Valentino waited for the car to start moving before he turned to face me. “I applaud your tenacity, Mrs. Phillips. I understand you aren’t the type of woman to give up but you’re in way over your head and mucking up my affairs. I cannot allow that to continue.”

I swallowed at the perceived threat, calling myself all kinds of stupid. No one knew I was with him and if he wanted me to disappear, I’m sure he’d be able to arrange it.

“Why didn’t you stop Garner from hiring me?” I asked, fear making me bold. “And why did you cover for me last night? Wouldn’t it have been easier to have Sloan call the cops and have me under police supervision?”

Valentino rubbed the bridge of his nose. “My father taught me to keep my friends close and my enemies closer. I’m not sure which category you fall under, but you present a problem in either case.”

“I only want to help Candie.” I told him honestly.

“That makes two of us, but you are in no position to help her. I am able, but not with your constant interference.”

I pondered his words. He said he could help Candie, not that he would. “Tell me about Amelia Kettering.” I ordered.

Valentino removed his sunglasses, his eyes wide. “Who told you about her?”

He didn’t have to sound so incredulous. “She did. From our conversation, I gather she doesn’t hold you in high esteem.”

“Jealous harpy.” Valentino muttered and then sighed. “Candie went through an experimental phase in college, not so uncommon. Amelia built it up to be more than it was. Started threatening to tell Candie’s parents about their relationship, hoping they’d sequester her away from the world. A classic
if I can’t have her, no one can
maneuver
.
Candie ended their affair and asked Amelia not to contact her again.”

“Your suggestion, I suppose?”

Valentino didn’t respond, but I had my answer. No matter what he said, I knew this man didn’t put up with threats in any form.

He smiled, a wry quirk of his lips. “I can tell you’ve painted me as the villain here, but I assure you I’ve always made her well-being a top priority.”

I pondered that for a moment. “Do you know where she is?”

“I’m sure Candie is safe. It’s no secret she was unhappy here and it’s easy to believe she’s taken off for a bit. She always did have a love for drama, but I’m involved with several projects which require my attention and I can’t run after her like some moon-struck adolescent.”

Unbelievable. He was claiming she ran off in a fit of pique. And he hadn’t denied knowledge of her whereabouts. I gazed out of the car window sightlessly for a minute. If what he said was true, then why had he bothered to call the FBI? And what about the notes and the dead bird? I was dying to ask him about Falcon, but afraid to push too hard.

“What did the other note say? The one you found after Candie disappeared.” I asked him, not believing for a second he would tell me.

“Telling you that defeats the purpose of asking you to back off from your investigation, does it not?” He reached into a pocket of his overcoat and extracted a business envelope. “For your trouble.”

I starred at the offering. “Buying my silence, Mr. Valentino?”

“Think of it more as a peace offering. As well as compensation for all your hard work. I asked Sierra to include a letter of recommendation, so you won’t be forced to make up references in the future.”

I blushed to the roots of my hair. Was it my fault that all of my clients had left the area, or died, after utilizing my services?

“And here we are.” The car stopped and I recognized the ugly camper out the front windshield. The dutiful chauffer had merely been circling our development until Valentino spoke his piece.

“Take a vacation, Mrs. Phillips. You’ve earned it.” He pressed the thick envelope into my hand and before I knew what was happening, I stood on the sidewalk, watching his taillights disappear.

I opened the envelope and blinked. Cripes, that was a wad all right. The aforementioned letter was in there as well, a glowing reference from one of the area’s top businesses. Between the two, I could set up a slew of gigs to keep Marty employed full-time and branch out into other offices. There would be a nest egg for my little niece or nephew and plenty left over to narrow the financial gap for our family’s needs. Neil wouldn’t have to work so much overtime. The thought of having him home more was the greatest temptation.

The dream of Candie chained to the boiler haunted me as I trudged up the steps, and pondered my next move.

* * * *

“Wait, wait, back up a minute. You got in the car with him?” Neil was seated across from me in a booth at our favorite pub. Despite having worked a fourteen hour day, he’d arrived as if fresh from the shower. I, who actually was fresh from the shower, had already dripped some nacho cheese onto my dark blue cable-knit sweater. Damn tricksy appetizers.

I took a pull off my light beer and grimaced. Since I hadn’t finished my exercise regime, I denied myself a full calorie beverage. That alone should teach me not to get into the car with strange men, Marty aside. “I know it was stupid, but—”

“No excuses, Uncle Scrooge!” Neil raised his voice, but the place was busy with the Saturday night crown and no one glanced our way. “You tell me you know your actions were thoughtless and then try to reason through it! Like any justification is enough of a reason for putting yourself in harm’s way!”

“Simmer down, Neil. I promise; it won’t happen again.” I reached for his hand across the table and twined my fingers with his. This was not the scenario I’d imagined while scouring the bathroom floor earlier today. And I had no one to blame except for my big, fat, mouth. Couldn’t I have waited till desert to tell him about the encounter with Valentino?

He scrubbed his free hand across his face and sighed audibly. “Maggie, I’ll admit you were right about the fax. Valentino’s got something going on and I seriously doubt he’s been completely upfront with the feds. I understand you are worried about Candie, but please accept that you can’t do anything here. You need to stop painting a target on your ass. I’m begging you, stay out of the investigation.”

“What about the money?” I whispered, feeling dirty just considering holding on to it.

Neil shrugged and leaned back in his seat. “I believe you’ve earned it. What you do with it is your call.”

Our entrees arrived then, a chicken Caesar salad for me and a ½ lb burger with the works for Neil. I snitched a fry and chewed, while mulling over Neil’s position. Undoubtedly, my actions would give him an ulcer, but I needed to see Valentino one more time, if only to return the money. Despite what my husband said, I couldn’t justify keeping the windfall, no matter how tempting. My mother would have applauded my ethics, even if I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet for refusing a hefty boon.

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