The Curse of the Holy Pail #2 (18 page)

"You worked a long time for Sterling Price," I noted. "Did you get along with his family?"

"Millie Price and I were especially close over the years. And Kyle has always been very respectful and sweet to me."

"And Karla?"

Carmen started in on the second half of her muffin, using the chewing time to think about her answer. "Karla. Well, Karla can be difficult."

"In what way?"

"For starters, she has no respect for me, never did. And she badgered her father a lot, especially about the business. As soon as she finished her MBA and started working at the company, nothing was good enough for her."

Carmen took a deep breath and pushed it out before continuing. "She and her father often argued about the management of the company. Sometimes I think he wished he'd never put her on the board. She always stirred up the meetings and they took forever when she was there. She was never satisfied, always wanted to change the way things were done." Carmen laughed. "Her daddy was a successful businessman long before she arrived on the scene, I can tell you that."

The brittle, petite blond in the cream silk suit came to my mind. Somehow, I could see Karla Blake being a mover and a shaker, and difficult. But I could also sympathize. Change in business is good and necessary to survive in our modern economy. And being a woman struggling to be heard in a staid company was sure to be tricky and frustrating. I saw it all the time in law, even at Woobie. Female lawyers often had to work harder to prove their competency, and those who were assertive and opinionated were labeled as bitchy.

An energy surge flooded my thoughts, and I remembered something Steele had said the night I called him. "What about Jackson Blake?" I asked Carmen.

She smiled before answering. It was an affectionate and motherly smile. "Jackson's a lamb. He's always a gentleman, very sweet, and extremely smart. He's done wonders for the company." She paused. "Besides being beautiful, I don't know what he sees in Karla. She treats him terribly."

A possibility was expanding in my brain like yeast dough rising in a toasty kitchen. Karla wanted changes in the company, but no one would listen to her. Steele said she didn't get along with the board of directors. Suddenly Jackson is on the scene, married to Karla and rising meteorically to senior vice president from field engineer. Steele had also said that Jackson was good for the company, saving it from stagnation and instigating positive changes.

Was Jackson a shill for his wife? Was he the promoter of Karla's progressive ideas, getting them heard and approved by a gender-prejudiced board? And did Sterling Price discover that he was being duped by his daughter and pay for it with his life? Amy had said that Sterling seemed angry with both Blakes that morning and had given orders that neither was allowed in to see him.

But what about Jackson and Stella? And Kyle and Stella? And Sterling and Stella? It was looking like a con game, with the men the shells and Stella the little ball. Keep your eye on the ball, ladies and gentlemen. Which one will she be under next?

And what about the Holy Pail? Where did that fit in? I knew for sure that Stella and Jackson were both interested in it, but Stella didn't mention it to Kyle at all during their time in the study. Was Karla searching for it, too? And if the vandals of last night were looking for it, who were they or who sent them?

A dull throb was making itself known behind my eyes. Reaching into my tote bag, I extracted a small container of Tylenol caplets and popped two, downing them with iced tea.

"Headache?" Carmen asked.

"Mmm, just starting," I said, "gonna be a doozy." The waitress came over with more tea and I thanked her.

"So," I said to Carmen, getting back on track, "exactly why did Sterling break off his engagement to Stella? Did she fool around on him?"

I already knew the answer to the last part, but wanted to hear what Carmen had to say on the subject.

"Actually, he broke it off with her because of the baby."

"Baby? You mean Stella's pregnant?" I asked curiously, remembering what Kyle had told Stella.

Carmen gave me a wicked grin. "That's what she claims. Personally, I think she wanted to make sure he married her. Of course, the little fool either didn't know or didn't remember that Sterling couldn't have children." She stopped when she saw the surprise on my face. "That's right, all his children were adopted, even Eldon, his first. Several years after Eldon died, Millie and Sterling adopted the twins.

"Of course, once she made that little announcement, Sterling knew she was sleeping with someone else. He just didn't realize it was his own son until the week before he died."

All this new data was making my headache worse. "If Kyle slept with Stella, why did Sterling buy the Center for him and make him a joint tenant in the house in Newport Coast? Why would you give such gifts to someone who betrayed you?" I asked with the fingers of one hand gently massaging my right temple.

Carmen looked surprised, but collected herself quickly. "But of course," she said with a smile, "you were the notary on the documents. They were on my desk with a note from Sterling when I returned."

She waved the waitress over and asked for our check before continuing.

"Kyle came by the office one day early last week. He and his father were behind closed doors a long time. I think that's when he confessed to the baby being his. Sterling had just broken up with Stella the day before, and she was supposed to be all moved out that day by the time he got home."

The check came, and Carmen and I each plunked down our share of money.

"I know this because Sterling asked me to send one of our private security guards to the house that morning to make sure she was packing and not taking anything of his. I think if she'd had any family, he would have thrown her out of the house the minute she told him about the baby. Anyway, Kyle came by, told his father about the two of them and that the baby was his. Immediately, Sterling gave her a reprieve until the end of the month. Even had me call off the security guards."

"So Sterling bought Kyle a business and gave him half the house, just like that?" I asked incredulously. "Was it a wedding present or a baby gift?"

Carmen, noting the sarcasm in my voice, shot me a displeased look.

"I see you find it bizarre," she said. "But that was Sterling for you. He never could stay mad at the kids, no matter what. And you have to understand that Sterling always felt that he had failed Kyle somehow. It bothered him that his son was aimless and unmotivated, while his daughter had the backbone of a Hun."

"Does Karla know about the house and the Center?" I asked.

"Oh yes, and was she ever upset about it." Carmen looked out the window, then back to me, her mood turned thoughtful. "Karla pitched a nasty fit about it right after the funeral. Kyle picked that time, right after everyone left, when it was just the family, Stella, and me at the house, to announce that he and Stella were getting married and moving permanently into the house.

"But in Karla's defense," she said, "I don't think she was upset about Sterling giving the Center and the house to her brother. In fact, I think she would have been okay with it had Stella not been in the picture."

Carmen gathered up her purse and stood to leave. I followed suit. We both had jobs to return to, which gave me another thought.

On the way to the car, Carmen continued talking. "You see, Odelia, I think Sterling gave the Center and the house to Kyle in the hope that Kyle and Stella did, just by coincidence, fall in love. All fathers want their sons to have a solid foundation to support a family. That was how Sterling Price operated. He was always an optimist."

I mulled this over as we got into the car and buckled up. It was obvious to me that Carmen didn't know about Stella and Jackson. Once on the road, I voiced another question.

"Carmen, what's going to happen to you now that Sterling's gone? I imagine the office will need you more than ever, but how will your position change?"

She looked at me and smiled grimly. I glanced over a few times to take in her expression.

"Who knows, Odelia?" she said flatly, like a person giving up. "I'll just have to wait and see. I'm close to retirement age but hadn't planned on it just yet."

I dropped Carmen off in front of Sterling Homes. Just before she shut the car door, she leaned her head inside. "I almost forgot," she said. After digging around in her purse, she produced a slip of paper and held it out to me. "One of those kooks called about the Holy Pail. He's phoned several times. Here's his number, if you still want to pass it along to your friend."

"Sure, no problem," I replied as I took the phone message. "They can have a good chat about metal boxes with rusty hinges"

We laughed and exchanged waves as I drove off. Almost out of the parking lot, I glanced back through my rear-view mirror. Carmen Sepulveda was still standing in front of the entrance, staring after me. With her gray hair and dull, conservative suit, she reminded me of an old armchair discarded by the side of the road.

FIFTEEN

THE SURLY RENT-A-GUARD WAS Still at his post in the lobby of Woobie when I returned, but this time, I didn't have to undergo inspection. I simply held my ID aloft, and he waved me through the doors. If possible, he looked even crankier than this morning.

As soon as I entered the reception area, Joyce handed me two handwritten messages. One was from Tina, saying I was free to begin the cleanup in my office. The second was from Joe, saying that Lester Miles had invited me to lunch Saturday afternoon at twelve thirty at his home. Attached to the note was the address, somewhere in a city called Glendora, and a phone number. Also with Joe's note was a copy of a newspaper clipping. It was the recent article about lunchboxes Joe had mentioned at the Reality Check meeting. I folded it and stuffed it into my tote bag to be read later. There were also two messages on my voice mail. One was from Greg, letting me know he would be home Sunday afternoon and would call tonight. My heart did a pirouette like one of those dancing hippos in Fantasia.

My brows knitted together as I listened to the second message. It was from Mike Steele, saying he could not reach Trudie, and demanding that I call him. He sounded weak but fussy. And obviously he did not have a clue about his secretary's flight from the firm.

Mumbling under my breath, I looked up the hospital's phone number and dialed. The phone in his room only rang once before someone snatched it up.

"Steele," the familiar voice answered as if he were sitting in his squeaky chair here at Woobie.

"Hey, Steele," I said, "how are you feeling?"

"Grey?"

"The one and only," I answered, feeling rather spunky in his absence.

"Where's Trudie? I've been trying to reach her all day." He sounded testy but foggy, like a junkyard dog on Percodan.

"Didn't Tina tell you?" I asked. "Trudie quit. Guess all that working late got to her."

"Quit?" he asked with a half-hearted growl. "Now what the hell am I supposed to do?"

I shrugged as if he could see me and answered. "A temp is starting on Monday."

There was a big sigh on the other end. "I don't know why Tina can't find good help," Steele said.

I gave the phone a you-gotta-be-kidding look.

"Grey, I need you to bring the Westchester and Build-Rite files to the hospital. They're keeping me here another night at least, and I have to get some work done. Bring my recorder, too. And don't forget a box of tapes. And a couple of legal pads and some good pens. You know the kind I like. And don't forget my BlackBerry. It's in my suit coat, which should still be hanging behind my door," he demanded without stopping for a breath.

Hesitating only slightly, I plunged forward with my answer, which I knew would be met with the same excitement as news of an emergency root canal. After all, I was not his secretary. His secretary was long gone, thanks to him.

"I'll arrange to have it all sent over," I offered simply.

The silence was deafening. I tapped my foot and waited for a response. Nothing. I started wondering if maybe the drugs had kicked in and he was snoozing on the other end, phone held limp in his hand, drool escaping from the corner of his drug-slack mouth. I was about to gently hang up and let him sleep it off when I heard a throat being cleared. Uh-oh. I moved to shut the office door just in case he inspired me to scream and quit, joining Trudie in the unemployment line.

"Grey, may I remind you," Steele said with a superior tone more like his old self, "that I wouldn't be in here if it weren't for you"

"How do you figure that?" I asked incredulously.

"The police think those hoodlums were looking for something, Grey," Steele said, starting to raise his voice. "Something they obviously think you have, like that damn lunchbox."

"But I don't have the damn lunchbox," I responded, my own voice going up an octave. "I told the police that today. And, come on, you don't know that's what they were looking for. I mean, just because my office got the worst of it. If you hadn't stopped them, who knows what they would have done? Maybe even trashed your precious office."