The P.U.R.E. Read online

At ten thirty, Bob returned.

  “Marilyn! Good. You’re here. I need to speak privately with you in the other conference room down the hall,” Bob said.

  She shot out of her seat and declared with passion, “Most definitely.” She took her notepad with her.

  They returned a half hour later, both flushed in the face. It must have been one hell of a meeting, and I wished I had manufactured an excuse to loiter outside the room they used.

  Slipping into his seat, Bob said, “Our engagement has obviously taken an unusual twist with Kenneth Petrovich’s murder. In light of the suspicious nature of his death, Arthur has asked us to re-examine some of Aphrodite’s more sensitive areas, such as inventory and receivables. That being said, because I haven’t been comfortable with the job we did on the physical inventory observation, Aphrodite will recount while we observe. Scarlett, you’ll observe the Dallas inventory, and Tony, you’ll do the same in El Paso.”

  I tapped my pen on the palm of my hand as I scanned the faces in the room. Bob had said before he thought Jon’s and my work was flawed because our counts contradicted Aphrodite’s records. Less than a week earlier, he’d been willing to sign off despite the differences. Did he still believe our work to be subpar given what he told Arthur? Why did he assign Tony to redo my work?

  My palm began to sting from the pen’s repeated impact.

  “Jon, you’ll assist Scarlett, and Gayle you’ll assist Tony, so the pair of you can learn from your mistakes.”

  Tony? Seriously?

  I slapped my pen down on the table. “Excuse me, Bob, but what mistakes? You just said there is suspicion Aphrodite’s records might not be up to snuff. The discrepancies Jon and I noted in the first go round have had nothing to do with the quality of our work. Those differences were one hundred percent to do with something Aphrodite did.”

  “It doesn’t matter who screwed up the first time,” Doug said, “but we sure can’t take any chances with our second shot.”

  “But—”

  “Gayle! Moving on.” Bob’s sneer proclaimed he would brook no further discussion on the subject.

  I glanced at Jon, and he shrugged but didn’t look too happy either. He was politically savvy enough to know better than to challenge the partner in charge of the job. I still hadn’t mastered that skill.

  Marilyn was probably thrilled over the redo of the inventories, egos be damned, but she showed no emotion whatsoever.

  If Marilyn’s fat lady was singing, I despised her tune.

  “Aphrodite will re-inventory day after tomorrow starting at seven a.m.,” Bob said. “The short notice is to prevent any cover-ups. Tony, you and Gayle will need to fly to El Paso tomorrow night.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.” Tony looked particularly pleased with himself.

  I wanted to slap the insufferable ass. The idea of having to tag along as his flunky infuriated me.

  Doug flashed a smirk my way.

  Fine. He’d be the last to know what I found on Jayna’s desk.

  12

  With Bob on site, I’d stashed the copies in my briefcase and didn’t dare pull them out to show Jon. I kept my head down all day despite a few inquiring gazes from him. I also stayed away from Jayna’s office.

  Bob’s directives still churned in my system like rotten chili when Doug sent us home at five.

  I snatched my car keys and decided to get a frozen yogurt to literally and figuratively cool off. My car must have possessed a mind of its own because it drove us to Jon’s parking lot instead.

  I’d not yet had a chance to tell Jon about what I’d found on Jayna’s desk and hoped he was home, though like me, I doubted he’d had much of an opportunity to make any sort of plans. We didn’t often end our day at five—more like seven or eight.

  I rang his doorbell and waited. Voices inside trickled to my ears, but I attributed them to his television. I rang again. Footsteps moved toward the door. He cracked it open. The face in the narrow opening didn’t belong to Jon but to his ex-fiancée, Thalia.

  “Yes?”

  Should I leave? No. Act normal because we’re friends, and friends do visit each other for friendly reasons.

  “Uh … is Jon home?” I asked.

  Come on, Lindley. A little more self-confidence.

  “He is, but he’s in the shower right now.” Her brow furrowed. She pointed and wagged a finger at me. “I met you a few weeks ago, didn’t I? What was your name again? Scarlett?”

  Thalia stared down at me from somewhere around six feet, a lot taller than my measly five feet two inches. I despised being short, and I especially hated having to crane my head back to make eye contact. At least her voice sounded whinier than I remembered.

  Don’t back down or act surprised she’s here. So what if they got back together and were having makeup sex. So what. Not my business. No sirree. Play it cool, wrap it up, and get out.

  “Yes, we met. I’m Gayle.” I tried to peer around her. “I was in the neighborhood and wanted to talk shop with Jon for a second. Are you guys getting ready to go out?”

  Jon appeared within my line of sight, shirtless and wet-haired, jeans hanging low on his hips, and prevented Thalia from answering my question. He slowed as he approached the door.

  I was taken aback by his partially undressed state. Before me stood someone I barely recognized. Someone with powerfully broad shoulders, and a taut, muscular stomach. Someone who obviously worked out. A lot. Bench presses, sit-ups and preacher curls, oh my! His chest displayed enough hair to label him a man, not a boy nor a gorilla. Who knew so much male yumminess lurked beneath his starched button-downs and conservative ties.

  Gayle! Stop!

  “Gayle!” he said with unexpected enthusiasm. “Come in, come in. What brings you here?” He ran a hand through his hair, finger combing wet cowlicks into submission.

  I stayed outside. “Sorry to drop by unannounced. I wanted to talk privately with you about a few work topics, but I think I’ve come at a bad time.” I glanced back and forth between him and Thalia to convey my unspoken acknowledgement of their reunion and its aftermath. “We’ll catch up sometime before I go to El Paso. Nice to see you again, Thalia.”

  She gave me a fluttery wave goodbye. Jon stood mute and motionless.

  Awkward.

  I took a backward step, spun on my heel, and started to walk toward my car. They murmured to each other behind me, so I picked up my pace. “Gayle! Wait!” Jon called to my back. Bare feet slapped against the pavement as he covered the ground between us in a couple of strides.

  I stopped and faced him when his hand landed on my shoulder. “Come inside for a bit. Thalia’s only here to pick up some of her stuff and drop off the key. She’ll be leaving soon.” He said the last bit pointedly as he peered over his shoulder.

  Thalia had her arms crossed in front of her. Either I had foiled her agenda, or she was pissed he might have a new girlfriend so soon. Some nerve she had, considering she’d begun seeing someone else behind Jon’s back before they called off their engagement. I fumed for him, assuming he was over her, not that their relationship was my business—because of course it wasn’t. He was my friend. Friends looked out for each other.

  “Stay, Gayle. Please?”

  Thalia huffed and went back inside.

  Jon leaned close. “She let herself in while I was in the shower and nearly gave me a heart attack when I found her in my living room. If you stay, she’ll speed up her pace.” He regarded me with those brown velvet eyes of his. “I want to get your take on today’s events, too.”

  I smiled because he wanted me there, but mostly because he hadn’t gotten back together with Thalia. “Okay. I really do have some juicy stuff to tell you.”

  We entered his apartment, and he said, “Hold those thoughts while I get a shirt. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared.

  Thalia chilled me with her silence as she inspected her belongings.

  I pointed to the box containing her pink angora sweater. “I was admiring your sweate
r the other night. It’s so lovely. Can I ask where you purchased it?”

  “It was a gift. I never cared much for it,” she said flatly.

  Jon rejoined us, and the dour set of Thalia’s lips reversed their arc into a smile.

  “Didn’t you give me that pink sweater for Valentine’s day last year? Remember, we rented a romantic little cabin in the mountains of North Carolina.”

  “So I did.” He turned to me and, with a sly twitch of his lips, said, “I got it at Dillard’s, Gayle. Thalia said it reminded her of the wallpaper in her grandmother’s kitchen.”

  He snickered, and I laughed until I noticed Thalia’s clenched jaw and pinched lips. If looks could kill or maim, I’d have been drawn and quartered—and Jon castrated.

  We made short work of loading up Thalia’s stuff. As she made the final trip to her SUV, I gave her an excellent imitation of the fluttery wave she’d given me earlier. I knew it was a bitchy thing to do, but by then I’d had enough of her silent hostility and not-so-subtle barbs at Jon.

  “Sorry I dropped by unannounced.”

  He waved me off.

  “I made a huge discovery I’ve been dying to tell you about. You wanna get frozen yogurt and talk?”

  “Did you eat dinner yet?”

  “Uh, no. Frozen yogurt popped into my head, and that’s what I’ve had a craving for ever since.”

  “It’ll spoil your appetite.”

  “So what, Mom. I want fro-yo, dammit.”

  “Can I make a quick sandwich? I need to eat something more substantial first.”

  I heaved a beleaguered sigh. “Okay, but hurry up.”

  We went back inside his apartment, where I took a seat at his breakfast bar. I watched while he expertly assembled a man-sized meal of two sandwiches. To my surprise, he pushed one toward me. “Eat.”

  Turkey, avocado and bacon ranked among my favorites. I looked at him with a gimlet eye, sighed loudly and dug in.

  “Thanks, bossy sprockets. It’s delicious,” I said after swallowing a mouthful of heaven.

  He stood on the other side of the bar, eating his own sandwich after he got us both some iced tea. “I used to collect those. So … spill.”

  Good thing we both knew we were talking about Thomas the Tank Engine.

  “So … this morning, I went to talk to Jayna. At one point, she left me alone in her office while she fled to the ladies’ room. On her desk was a forecast of how the IPO funds were to be used. Below that was a manila folder. I grabbed the forecast and folder, ran and made copies of them before Jayna returned.” I paused to take a bite and a sip.

  “And?”

  “One of the uses of the IPO funds is to redeem five thousand preferred shares at eight hundred percent of face value. Inside the folder, I found documents pertaining to the owner of the preferred shares—Dalrymple Beauty Consultants and its parent company, Elizabethan Investments. Do either of those names ring a bell?”

  “No. Never heard of them,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “Guess who’s the sole owner of Elizabethan Investments?”

  “Kenneth Petrovich?”

  “No. Guess again.”

  He rolled his eyes and said blandly, “Leslie Turner.”

  I pouted. “Ugh, how’d you guess?”

  “I was right? Leslie Turner controls five thousand shares of Aphrodite through two holding companies?”

  “Yes. She originally owned half of the shares until Libby sold her the other half.”

  He gasped. “That means Bob has a financial interest in Aphrodite. Uh-oh.”

  “Can you say big time ethics violation?”

  “Why would he agree to do the audit and keep his wife’s interest a secret? They both stand to benefit to the tune of eight hundred percent of the face value of the stock. Do you know how much money we’re talking?”

  “Eight hundred thousand dollars,” I told him.

  “What? Wow! That much? Really?”

  I nodded. “Yes!”

  Jon’s eyes stayed motionless, his gaze fixed somewhere around my mouth. I was hungrier than I had originally thought and must have been wolfing down my food. I put down the sandwich mid-bite to use my napkin.

  I’ll bet Thalia never ate like a pig in front of him.

  No doubt my voracious appetite or the avocado mess I discovered when I wiped off my face appalled him.

  Precious, Gayle. Just precious.

  “A partnership interest in a firm like Anderson-Blakely is worth more than eight hundred thousand dollars.” Jon continued to fixate on my face as if in a trance.

  “He obviously thought he’d never be caught.” I forced myself to let the sandwich lie untouched for a few beats.

  “Or he didn’t know Leslie owned the shares. You’re not eating anymore. You can’t be done.”

  “I can tell your mother is Italian.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, my mother is definitely a member of the ‘mange, mange!’ club.”

  “I need to let my food settle a bit. Eating too fast is what happens when you have three very large older brothers. You learn to inhale your food or you starve.” I giggled in spite of myself.

  “How much older and larger are your brothers?”

  “Not much older, but much, much larger. Ian, Henry, and my twin, Gordon, all played football, baseball and basketball and are meaner than pit bulls on meth. As the only girl, and the youngest, I had to be sneaky and quick to survive the Lindley brothers.”

  “Traits that benefit you to this day, I’ve noticed. Are they overly protective of you since you’re so tiny?”

  I grimaced at his description of me. “I’m not tiny. Sometimes they’re overprotective. Other times they couldn’t give a rip. None of them live in Dallas, thank goodness.”

  “Petite, then. Where do they live?”

  “Ian’s in Houston with NASA. He’s a rocket scientist, literally. Henry lives in Los Alamos, New Mexico, and works at the labs. Gordon is at Harvard law. Who knows where he’ll end up—probably New York.”

  “Smart bunch you Lindleys are. Now, mange, mange, bellissima. Eat up so we can go get yogurt.” He pressed his palms together as if in prayer and bobbed them up and down in a stereotypical Italian gesture.

  “I have just the right amount of room left for yogurt right now. Maybe if I ate slowly all the time, I could shed a few extra pounds.” I patted my distended belly.

  He rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to lose any weight, Gayle. I wish perfectly healthy women didn’t feel compelled to starve themselves like fashion models. It’s ridiculous. Thalia never ate a damn thing but salads with lemon juice, and even that was on the side.”

  I pulled a face at the thought of such a boring and meager diet. “I really wasn’t fishing for a compliment, but thanks all the same.”

  “If you’re not going to finish that, can I have it?” he asked.

  “Knock yourself out.” I slid the plate to him.

  He polished the remains of my sandwich off in three quick bites, wiped his hands, and put our dishes in the dishwasher. Quite a tidy man but not too prissy to eat my leftovers, I happily noted.

  “Do you have any large and dangerous siblings you can crack open your secrets vault and tell me about?” I joked as he reached for his wallet and car keys.

  “I do. I have a sister who’s five years older and a brother who’s six years younger. My brother’s large and my sister’s dangerous. However, since you’ve breached my fortress walls, I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you.” He flashed me a crooked grin.

  “Ha ha. You Cripps are all spread out. You’re practically an only child.”

  “Not hardly,” he said with a lift of his eyebrow. “Let’s go.”

  “I gather you think you’re driving. I’m buying, regardless, since I invited you, and you made dinner,” I said as we walked outside.

  “Christine was quite upset the last time I rode in your car. You wouldn’t like her when she’s angry. So I am driving, but you may buy me a yogurt.”<
br />
  “Oh, I may, he says. Well, thank you for bestowing the rare privilege of buying you dessert, and thank you for allowing me to live with the knowledge that, gasp, Jon Cripps is not an only child. I think I done died and gone to heaven, Miss Scarlett.”

  Jon chuckled. “Where did you get the idea I changed my mind about killing you?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Okay, I did. I’ll let you slide this time, but if you breathe a word, I’ll take care of you.”

  I snorted as he unlocked and opened the door of his car for me. I tickled Christine on her hood as I passed and cooed, “There’s a beautiful girl, oh yes she is!” Awaiting me on the passenger seat lay two shiny New Mexico state quarters.

  13

  El Paso welcomed us with bright, cloudless skies. Despite my galling assignment, optimism warmed my heart, and a free omelet and banana from the hotel filled my stomach.

  Tony and I arrived at the inventory site right on time. After some fussing with his pencil and pad, Tony performed the required steps while I hovered at his elbow. A couple of times, he forgot to do his own test counts or require the client to prove boxes contained product. I’d prompt him. He’d count and ask me do the same so we could compare figures. We’d have fit right inside a Dilbert cartoon.

  Unbeknownst to Tony, I made a few additional test counts and took notes on the overall appearance of the site. Like the first time I visited, the size boasted meticulous attention to organization and cleanliness.

  The warehouse guys remembered me from before and were friendlier on my second visit, calling me ‘guera bonita’ or pretty blonde girl. Perhaps they appreciated the donuts I insisted Tony stop for.

  The rest of the day went off without a hitch.

  • • •

  Doug had left me alone while I was out of town. When I returned on Thursday, however, he started in on me again as soon as we were alone.

  “So Gayle, what do you say to you and me? Saturday night? We’ll mend some fences—go to dinner. Later you can wrap those nice legs of yours around me. I promise you’ll be screaming my name and God’s in the same breath. I’ll even go down on you afterwards, if you like.” I swear he licked his lips and winked at me as he pumped his hips.