Fast Women Page 5

  Chapter Three

  “You’ve got to admit, the place is cleaner,” Riley said when he came into Gabe’s office the next morning to find him scowling at his desk.

  “So clean I can’t find anything.” Gabe shuffled through the papers on his desk. “She stacked things.”

  “That’s a woman for you.” Riley sat down across from him and stretched out his legs. “Look on the bright side. She’s concentrating on the bathroom now. That can only be good.”

  “She’ll find some way to make it ruin my day.”

  “You know, we’re going to have to make her permanent.”

  “Oh, God.” Gabe knew he was right, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. “So what happened yesterday?”

  “I did the Hot Lunch. Gina’s cheating. What a surprise.”

  “Anybody we know?”

  Riley shook his head. “Never saw him before. He was wearing a really ugly tie and looking at Gina like she was the best thing that ever happened to him. If only he knew. She waved and said to give you her best.”

  Gabe shook his head. “And people think detective work is exciting.”

  “What happened at O&D?”

  Gabe told him.

  “Jack’s cheating again?” Riley said. “He never learns.”

  “That’s it, keep an open mind.” Gabe sighed. “I don’t think any of them are guilty. But I do think Trevor lied about the accusations she made. I find it hard to believe that he’s playing around.”

  “True,” Riley said. “It’s not like Trevor to work with his hands.”

  “And I know he lied to me about how she wanted him to get the money to her.” Gabe leaned back. “I think he went to meet her.”

  “And Jack knows?”

  “Maybe. Budge Jenkins called me first. Then I got a follow-up call from Jack that played down the whole thing, told me not to start investigating until we’d talked. And then I got a call from Trevor trying to cancel the meeting.” He shook his head. “You have to wonder what would happen if Budge met a problem he couldn’t tattle on, Jack met one he couldn’t solve with fast talk and charm, and Trevor met one he couldn’t delay out of existence.”

  “So Trevor and Jack are hiding something and they haven’t clued Budge in.” Riley thought about it and grinned. “I’d hate to be Budge right about now.”

  Gabe nodded. “I have this ugly feeling that the way to find out who’s blackmailing the clients is to investigate the clients.”

  “Let me do the easy one,” Riley said, standing up. “I’ll find out if Jack’s cheating.”

  Gabe shook his head. “We’re not going to investigate it. They don’t want us to, and we don’t have the time.”

  “I might do it just for the hell of it,” Riley said.

  “It wouldn’t be just for the hell of it,” Gabe said. “It’d be to nail Jack Dysart. I can’t believe you’re still hostile about that woman after fourteen years.”

  “What woman?” Riley said and went out, passing Nell on her way in.

  “I need your appointment book,” she said to Gabe briskly.

  “Why?” he said, feeling the need to annoy her.

  “Because your appointments are not in the computer, and I need to put them in.”

  “Fine.” Gabe handed over his datebook.

  “Thank you.” She took it and turned back to the door.

  “Mrs. Dysart,” he said, hating what he had to say next.

  “Yes?” she said, patiently.

  “Would you like a permanent job?”

  She surprised him by pausing for a minute. “Would I get to fix your business cards?”

  “No.”

  She sighed. “Yes, I’d like a permanent job.”

  “You’re hired,” he said. “Don’t change anything.”

  She shot him a look that was completely unreadable and left.

  “Yes, she’s going to be a great help,” he said to the empty room and turned back to his neatly stacked desk to get some work done.

  * * *

  An hour later, with both partners gone and the bathroom still to be cleaned, Nell began to enter Gabe’s appointments into the agency’s antique computer system. After typing in his future workload, Nell went back through the book for the past year and realized she’d misjudged him. He might be a controlling fiend, but he was a hardworking controlling fiend. No wonder he hadn’t caught Lynnie embezzling; he’d barely had time to catch his breath. A significant amount of the work he’d done was background checks for Ogilvie and Dysart, and Nell stopped long enough to flip through Riley’s past appointments, too. Even more O&D, close to a quarter of their business.

  The door rattled, and she looked up from her computer screen to see her handsome son come in with a paper bag in one hand and a drink in the other.

  “Lunch,” Jase said, hitting her with the irresistible smile that had been getting him out of trouble for twenty-one years. “Also I wanted to check out your new salt mine.”

  Nell smiled back in spite of herself. He was such an all-American boy, tall and sturdy and open. “You look wonderful.”

  “You have to say that, you’re my mother.” He put the bag and the drink on the desk and kissed her cheek. “Aunt Suze says you’re supposed to eat, so eat. I don’t want her on my case.”

  Nell ignored the bag and picked up the drink. “What’s in here?”

  “Chocolate milkshake. She said to get high-calorie.” He looked around the reception room. “So you’ve been here a day and a half and it still looks like this? What have you been doing with your time?”

  “Getting to know my boss,” Nell said as Jase sat on the couch, the spindly legs creaking under his weight. “He’s tricky. I may have to sneak some things past him.” She opened the bag and tried not to recoil at the smell of the hot grease. You look like hell, she told herself. Eat. She took out a french fry. “So what’s new? How’s Bethany?”

  “I wouldn’t know. Haven’t seen her in a couple of weeks.”

  “Again?” Nell put the french fry back. “Jase, that’s your fourth girl this year.”

  “Hey, you don’t want me getting too serious too young, do you?”

  “No,” Nell said. “But—”

  “Then be grateful I play the field. That way when I’m ready to settle down, I’ll settle down. No cheating.” Jase faltered a little. “I mean, there’s no point in getting serious now, two more years of undergrad to go, and who knows what after that. I don’t even know what I want to be when I grow up.” He smiled at her again, as sunny and as guileless as when he was six.

  “I love you,” Nell said.

  “I know,” Jase said. “You have to. You’re my mom. It’s part of the deal. Now eat something.”

  “I am.” Nell reached in the bag for the french fries. “See?” She chewed a fry, trying not to gag at the taste of the grease. “Although I have to admit I’m not a big french fry fan.”

  “You used to be,” Jase said. “You used to pour vinegar over them like Grandma did, remember? One of the best smells I know is vinegar and hot oil because of you two.”

  “Well, at least I gave you some good memories,” Nell said.

  “You gave me a boatload.” Jase stood up and leaned across the desk to kiss her again. “I have to go. Promise me you’ll eat that.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot,” Nell said.

  When he was gone, she dumped the bag in the trash and went back to the computer and Gabe’s datebook. It really was amazing the amount of work the man did. Imagine what he could accomplish once she’d organized him.

  She began to type again, keying in words while she thought about all the things she could do to fix McKenna Investigations.

  * * *

  On Wednesday, Nell got to the agency at nine sharp, but Gabe wasn’t there. She was surprised to feel vaguely let down, as if she’d braced herself for nothing. It was like pushing hard on a door that opened easily; she felt stupid and clumsy, all at once. She made coffee and poured Riley a cup and took it in
to him, and then she went into the bathroom to start on the final frontier.

  “What are you doing?” Riley called when he came out of his office half an hour later to give her his empty cup.

  “Cleaning your bathroom,” Nell said, drying her hands on a paper towel as she came out to find him staring at the four white garbage bags she’d managed to fill so far. “You won’t let me do anything else right now, and you have dirt in there from the Cold War.”

  Riley frowned. “What did you want to do instead?”

  “Fix the business cards. Repaint the window. Replace the couch,” Nell said, her voice getting grim. “Speak sharply to Lynnie. But the boss says no.” She looked up at him. “You’re a partner in this place. Give me permission to do what I want.” It sounded like an order so she added, “Please.”

  “Cross Gabe?” Riley shook his head. “No.”

  Nell turned back to the bathroom. “Fine, then go out and do something so I can type the report.”

  “We never talk anymore,” Riley said, but he said it on his way out.

  One hour, three shelves, and two phone messages later, the door rattled opened, and Nell came out of the bathroom, expecting Gabe.

  A very young blonde came in, all but bouncing on her heels as she pushed the stubborn door shut with her tight little body. She beamed at Nell, and Nell smiled back, helpless not to.

  “You must be Nell,” the blonde said. “My mom told me about you. I’m Lu.”

  She held out her hand, and when Nell took it, her handshake was firm, almost painful. Like Gabe’s, Nell thought. She had his smart, dark eyes, too, which contrasted with her blonde, cheerful openness. Odd but attractive, Nell thought. “Very nice to meet you.”

  “My mom thinks you’re the best.” Lu stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, clearly prepared to make her own judgment.

  “She’s a nice woman,” Nell said.

  “Nice isn’t everything,” Lu said. “She’s a Pisces. They never get what they want. Especially when they’re married to Tauruses.” She shot a disgusted look at her father’s office door.

  “You’re not a Pisces,” Nell said.

  “I’m a Capricorn,” Lu said. “We get everything we want.” She jerked her head at Gabe’s door. “Is my dad in?”

  “Nope,” Nell said. “He’s out harassing the guilty.”

  “Maybe that’ll put him in a better mood.” Lu pulled her hands out of her pockets and plopped down on the couch, everything she had bouncing with her. As part of her miracle, the couch held. “He’s being impossible about this Europe thing.”

  “Europe thing?”

  “I want to go to France next month,” Lu said. “Get a Eurail pass, see the world. He wants me to go to OSU. He’s paid the tuition, which he feels is significant.”

  “I’ve paid tuition,” Nell said. “It is significant.”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to go,” Lu said. “It’s my life. I didn’t ask him to pay tuition.”

  “You probably didn’t have to,” Nell said. “Your dad strikes me as somebody who takes care of his own.”

  “Exactly. That’s pretty good for only knowing him three days.”

  “It’s been an intense three days.”

  “That’s what my mom said.” Lu studied her, narrowing her dark eyes until she looked uncomfortably like Gabe. “Mom says you’re going to run the place. She can’t get my dad to do anything. I mean, she divorced him and they stayed together.”

  “They’re divorced?” Nell said.

  “Hard to tell, isn’t it? He bought the house next door for her so she’d stay, and she did.” Lu shook her head. “I think that’s why my mom’s decided to go to France with me, although she’s not there yet. If Dad doesn’t want her to go, she won’t go.” She set her jaw. “I’m going.” She cast a careful look at Gabe’s door. “I think.”

  The door rattled again. “Hello, trouble,” Riley said as he came in, smacking Lu on the top of the head with the folder he was carrying. “Stop making your dad crazy. He’s taking it out on me.”

  “It’s good for you,” Lu said critically. “You get things too easy.”

  Riley detoured around her to drop the folder on Nell’s desk. “Everything you’ve ever wanted,” he told her. “Last part of a background check. Type away.” He looked back at Lu. “Would it kill you to spend a couple months in college and make your old man happy?”

  “It is not my mission in life to make my father happy,” Lu said airily. “I must follow my bliss.” She came back to earth. “Tell me you love me.”

  “I love you,” Riley said. “Now get out. This is a place of business.”

  “You know, if you have to tell people it’s a place of business, it kind of loses its impact,” Nell said.

  Riley grinned down at her. “And that’s enough lip from the help.”

  Nell smiled back and then caught Lu’s expression.

  “Hello,” Lu said.

  “Not hello,” Riley said. “Good-bye. I thought I threw you out of here.”

  “Just when it was getting interesting,” Lu said and left, yanking on the door to get it closed.

  “That’s an amazing child,” Nell said.

  “You have no idea. She’s had Gabe and Chloe whipped since birth. Some guy is going to have his hands full with that one.” Riley looked into the bathroom. “I can’t believe you’re still doing that. Go to lunch.”

  “One more shelf and I’m done,” Nell said and went in to finish.

  The bathroom was better, but it still needed to be painted. Maybe she could do that when they weren’t looking, since she was permanent now. She climbed up on the toilet tank, balancing herself with one hand on the wall, and began to take old boxes and bottles down from the top shelf, dropping them into the trash can below and listening to them smash with satisfaction. Then she reached for the last box.

  It was pushed into the farthest corner and she had to pry it forward with her fingernails, but she finally got it to the edge of the shelf. It was small, about four by five inches, covered in cheap red-tooled leather. She climbed down from the toilet to look at it in the light, brushing off the dust to see the picture on top, an engraving of some kind of imp or devil. She heard the street door slam, heard Riley say he’d finished the background check, heard Gabe answer him, and looked at the box again.

  If there was trouble in there, Gabe was going to blame her. She took a deep breath and opened the box, but the only thing inside was a car title, its yellow paper blending with the yellow felt lining of the box.

  This cannot possibly upset him, she thought and went out to give it to him.

  * * *

  “This Jack Dysart thing,” Riley said as he followed Gabe into the office.

  “There is no Jack Dysart thing.” Gabe took off his jacket and sat down at his desk. “We have real work to do.” He was about to go on, but his new secretary knocked and came in, slender in her gray suit, pale against the dark wood of the door.

  “I found this,” she said and brought a small red box to the desk. “It was on the top shelf in the bathroom, and there’s nothing much in it, just a car title, but I thought—”

  “A title?” Gabe opened the box and took out the paper. It was a title transfer to Patrick McKenna for a 1977 Porsche 911 Carrera, dated May 27, 1978, and signed by Trevor Ogilvie. He looked at it closer.

  Trevor had sold the car to his dad for one dollar.

  He felt his skin go cool. His dad had put the box on the top shelf of the bathroom in 1978 where it wasn’t likely to be found by anybody working for him, certainly not by his twenty-one-year-old son or eleven-year-old nephew who might conceivably ask how he’d gotten such a cool car for a buck.

  What the hell had his dad done for Trevor in 1978 that was worth a 1977 Porsche?

  “What?” Riley said. Gabe pushed the box across the desk to him and watched Riley’s usual good humor fade from his face as he read the paper.

  “Is that what you were looking for?” Nell said, and
Gabe frowned at her. Jesus, it was like working with Chloe again. No train of thought at all, just random stations.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked patiently, and he must have been too patient because she frowned back at him.

  “I was cleaning your shelves,” she said, “and I noticed patterns in the dust that looked like somebody had been pulling books out. So I figured you were looking for something.”

  “No,” Gabe said and looked at Riley.

  “Not me,” Riley said. “But it was after the cleaners stopped coming. Lynnie?”

  Gabe shook his head. “If she found the box, why not just take it?” He frowned at the box. “Actually, why look for this at all?” He picked it up again. It was small, but there was plenty of room inside for something besides a title. “Unless she took what she wanted.” Something else about his dad and Trevor …

  Riley was frowning. “Yeah, but what the hell could she want—”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dysart, you’ve been a great help,” Gabe said, and Nell took a step back, looking as though she’d been slapped.

  “All right,” she said. “Listen, about the sign on the window—”

  “What?” Gabe frowned at her, impatient for her to be gone. “What sign?”

  “McKenna Investigations. It’s flaked completely off in places. I was thinking we could redesign—”

  “No, Mrs. Dysart. The window stays the way it has always been.” He looked at the box and thought, Although I may not know much about the way things have always been.

  “Then could I talk you into a new couch before the old one collapses?” she said, and he looked up, startled by the edge in her voice. Her eyes held a gleam that said she was repressing things best left unsaid and there was actually some color in her cheeks. Well, the hell with her, he had real problems.

  “We don’t get that many drop-ins,” he told her. “The couch stays.”

  She stood there for a moment, and then she said, “Your front door sticks, too,” and left.

  That is one angry woman, he thought, and looked at the box again. Hell.

  Riley took a deep breath. “So what did Patrick do for Trevor that he couldn’t put on the books?”