The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag (15 page)

Chapter Thirteen

“This office is strictly off-limits. What are you doing in here?” Sloan withdrew a walkie-talkie from his guard uniform.

“Um, cleaning?” I gestured to the mountain of supplies just beyond the door.

“Valentino asked you to clean his office?” His gravelly voice was laced with skepticism. I nodded eagerly, praying I could talk my way out of whatever Sloan had in store.

“So why did I see you scrounging through the desk out there on my monitors? And how come you’re in here, with all of your cleaning stuff out there?” He raised one eyebrow and I swallowed. Crap, there must have been a second camera monitoring behind Sierra’s desk. What, Valentino didn’t trust his employees?

“Sierra promised to leave the key with security, but I guess she forgot. So I took a shot that it was still in her desk. And I was figuring out what I need in here. Mr. V was in a hurry this afternoon and I didn’t get a chance to scope out his set up.” Queen of B.S. working her magic.

“I’ll have to verify that with Tom.” Sloan obviously didn’t buy my excuse. “Step outside, hands where I can see ‘em.” It wasn’t a request.

Circling the desk, I moved purposefully out into the reception area and headed to my cart. “I hope this won’t take too long, I promised my partner we’d be done in a half hour.” My nerves prickled like a startled hedge hog.

Sloan spoke into his hand unit. “Yeah, Tom, did Sierra or Mr. Valentino leave instructions for the cleaning service to take care of Mr. Valentino’s office?” I held my breath and accepted a time of reckoning was at hand. Static crackled over the walkie-talkie and the reply came, too low for me to hear.

“You do that then. We’ll wait here.” Sloan stared at me, a self-assured smirk on his face. “Tom’s calling Mr. Valentino at home, just to be sure.”

Not wanting him to see my panic, I bent over and stared at a bottle of Windex.

“Hands where I can see them!” Sloan ordered and I whirled to face the barrel of a gun leveled at my head. I raised my arms above my head, too fearful to feel ridiculous.

“Away from the cart, now.” His eyes cut to Sierra’s desk and I took the hint, stepping out of reach of my stuff.

“This is a simple misunderstanding. Do I look like a corporate spy to you?” I wiped my sweaty palms on my bleach-stained jeans.

“Don’t play games with me, little girl. I know you lied about your identity to get this job. I ran your social security number myself and out popped the Laundry Hag Cleaning Services, much to my surprise. What I don’t know is why you lied, when you could have used me for a reference. I intend to find out.”

The radio squawked and Sloan reached for it with one hand while training the gun on me with the other.

His dark eyes narrowed. “He did. Huh. No, no that’s it for now.” Sloan replaced the unit on his belt and holstered his weapon while I concentrated on not keeling over in relief. Valentino had vouched for me? He must have recognized me then, but the question remained, why?

“I want some answers.” Sloan crossed his arms and stood with feet planted. The man was huge, bulkier than Neil and maybe an inch shorter he towered over my five four stature. The thought of my husband gave me an epiphany. Maybe I could still spin this in my favor.

“My husband and I are having some troubles,” I told him. “Our marriage counselor, Dr. Robert Ludlum, suggested we take a break, to reevaluate our priorities.”

Something flickered on Sloan’s face at the mention of Dr. Bob. “That sounds like the quack all right. Next thing you know, you’ll be sitting in divorce court, wondering why you listened to the bastard to begin with.”

Nodding, I caught his gaze, hoping to fabricate a little solidarity between Dr. Bob’s hapless victims. “I guess I needed a clean break, you know? Using my maiden name was a knee-jerk reaction.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you didn’t list me as a reference.”

I shrugged, striving for an unsure posture. “You hadn’t paid me yet and I didn’t receive any feedback, so how was I to know if you were happy with the results? I couldn’t take the chance; I
need
this job, especially if I’m headed for divorce court.”

Sloan scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know what you mean. Between lawyers, court fees and supporting two households, I’m seeing red wherever I turn.”

I shot him a confident smile. “So, can I get back to work now? I wanna be out of here before midnight.”

“Sure, sure. Tom will be leaving as soon as I finish my rounds. If you need anything, hit star three for the security desk.” My new buddy tipped his ball cap at me and sauntered to the elevator. I made a show of pulling out a roll of paper towels, the Windex that almost got me killed and spritzing the open doors to Valentino’s office.

The elevator dinged and Richard stomped past Sloan. “There are no invoices in that God forsaken vehicle!” He snapped.

“Really? I could have sworn I put them in there earlier. Sorry about that, I guess I’ll call Mr. Garner tomorrow. Would you mind vacuuming in the office?” All this acting was giving me a migraine.

Richard grumbled, but I could tell his protests were halfhearted as he unplugged the vacuum and jauntily pushed it toward the open doors. I wanted to sag as the tail end of adrenalin departed from my system, but I was still on camera.

All that effort and I hadn’t unearthed anything noteworthy. The idea that Valentino had recognized me but played dumb this afternoon and then supported my phony claim turned my knees to jelly. What was his deal? He’d called the FBI about his wife’s possible abduction, but didn’t care enough to consol her when she was shaken by the dead bird or display her picture in his office. I thought back to my brief conversation with Amelia. He wanted what someone else possessed and now someone else had his wife. But where the hell did I fit in?

Realizing I was standing around staring at nothing, I dropped the window supplies back into the cart and extracted my Swiffer duster to do the blinds and windowsills. The drone of the vacuum emanated from the open office, but it didn’t sound like Richard was moving it at all. I couldn’t muster the will to care, for once not at all concerned about my reputation. No way would I come back here, as I planned to tell Garner tomorrow. I refused to be a pawn in whatever twisted crap was going on with Valentino.

Strangely detached, I watched the duster slide gracefully over the blinds, trapping grit and allergens in its fluffy grip. I held it up to my face, thinking it looked like a bird after a mud bath.
Falcon, Hawk, Phoenix,
ran through my head again and again. Falcon was Valentino’s potentially Earth changing solar storage unit, the hawk had been charred and left for Candie and the Phoenix had kicked it all off in that first note. The note Valentino hadn’t wanted the FBI to see, but my paranoia had daunted him.

Shaking my head, I discarded the skanky duster in the trash and removed the garbage bag and placed it on my cart. Was I coming between Valentino and something he wanted? Truly, I didn’t believe the man was dangerous, but did I really know of what he might be capable when pushed? Perhaps my reprieve tonight was his way of setting me up for something more sinister.

Inhaling, I coughed and almost doubled over from the choking smell of a too full vacuum bag. “Hey, Richard, finish up, we’re heading out.”

No force on the planet would make me come back here.

* * * *

Neil was sprawled on the air mattress by the time I walked through the door. The chiming clock on the mantel tolled twelve as I dropped my coat on the hall tree and stumbled toward the bathroom.

A quick shower and I supposed the worst of the astringent smell was off, but I shampooed twice to be sure. Not having the energy to properly dry myself off, I swathed my dripping carcass in a terry robe and blotted my hair with a towel. Combed through the tangles, I ripped a few strands out, not caring all that much as the pain kept me from tumbling face first into the mirror.

I shut off the light before opening the door. A quick check on the boys revealed everyone in bed and asleep. My feet dragged on our thin carpet as I headed for the air mattress. Given my exhaustion, I flopped onto the makeshift bed with enough force to wake the dead, but Neil didn’t stir. I listened to his even breaths until sleep claimed me.

Although physically spent, my mind agitated like an unbalanced load of wash and I wasn’t surprised to find myself in a basement, having no memory of how I’d gotten there. Little light permeated the crusty arrow slit window several feet above my head and the smell of mildew overpowered my nose. I turned, squinting into the darkness in hopes that I’d spot an exit. A clinking noise, like metal on metal caught my notice and I headed in the direction of the sound, feeling my way along the damp walls to orient myself better.

“Hello? Is someone there?” I called out, stumbling over a crate I didn’t noticed in time. The clinking grew louder and blood roared in my ears as my pulse rate kicked up beyond jogging levels. I walked for what seemed like forever, the basement bigger than I first realized. My hand hit a pipe and my eyes abruptly adjusted to the dim light. I’d reached what looked to be a large cylindrical tank with several pipes leading out like a mechanical spider with crooked legs. Deciding to back away and go around the tank, I stumbled and screamed as my ass met the concrete.

My teeth snapped together with such force that I saw stars. I groaned and pulled my feet underneath me, ready to start out again when I caught sight of what I’d tripped over. A woman was handcuffed to one of the pipes, a gag tied around the back of her head. Scrambling forward, I reached behind her to untie the fabric. The light was too dim to make out her features.

“Maggie, you’ve got to get out of here!” Her eyes were wild. She glanced from me to the far corner of the room. “He’ll kill you!”

My fingers followed the handcuffs that wrapped around the pipe, seeking a spot of rust or some other weakness that I could use to free her. “Who did this? Who brought you here?”

She yanked away from me, sliding down the pipe as far as she could go. “Leave me! Just get yourself out of here, now!”

I grabbed both of her secure wrists and tugged against the resistance of the pipe. A pop sounded, followed by a slow hiss and my vision was again obscured. Steam billowed from the tank and choking smog filled the air. I cringed away while keeping a hand on her.

“Who’s doing this?” I asked again, tugging on her arms. She cried out unintelligibly, and kicked me away with her foot. Some distant voice told me I was doing more harm than good, but I ignored it while I scrambled toward her. “I won’t leave you! Help me get you free!”

A high keening sound pierced the air and my gaze shot to the tank a second before the pressure reached critical….

I jolted up in bed, breathing hard, shaken to the core. Damn my overactive imagination right to the depths of Dante’s Inferno.

“You okay?” Neil’s deep bass rumbled in my ear and he put his arms around my heaving chest. I nodded and rested my head against his shoulder and focused on taking even breaths. “Just a dream.” I mumbled inanely.