Hiding in Plain Sight Page 5

  At four minutes before twelve o’clock, Janine pushed a button on the phone and stood up, stretching and yawning like she was just waking up.

  “Time for lunch,” she said. “We can keep working on those after we eat.”

  As I followed her along the hall, I wondered whether “we” would turn out to mean “me” again, as had been happening since my arrival. The lunchroom, located right across the hall from the conference room, was the only area I’d seen so far that wasn’t a soft ecru colour. It was done in an antique yellow wash with burgundy and teal accents.

  “Different decorator?” I asked, looking around at the striking effect.

  “Debbie designed this.” Janine smiled. “Nice, isn’t it? The workers that did it were fast, too. Just a few days and it was done. Good thing, because everything was a mess with the room torn apart.”

  “Where’d everyone eat then?” I asked.

  “At our desks,” she said. “I hated that, it was so boring. Plus the microwave was in the Yaegers’ office and the fridge was stuck in the conference room. It wasn’t exactly convenient if you wanted something hot or cold.”

  “How long ago was it done?”

  “I dunno, three, four weeks, I guess. Wait, it was right around the time of the robbery. I remember because water leaked all over the carpet in the conference room and we didn’t know if the fridge was doing it or if it was the water cooler.”

  “And which was it?”

  “The repairman couldn’t find anything wrong with either of them, so he said it was probably the fridge. Like, something leaked out from it being moved around or tipped the wrong way or whatever. He must have been right ’cause it never happened again.”

  “Huh,” I said, which might not have made me sound much like a brilliant detective. To be honest, it was only day one and I was already discouraged. Short of someone jumping up and confessing, I didn’t see how I was going to figure this one out. Not with leaky fridges and urgent letters as my only clues.

  Carol was the next to arrive for lunch. She made a big production of seating herself as far away from us as possible, then opened a brown paper bag and pulled out a sandwich wrapped in waxed paper. It looked like the twin of what Janine was eating, a thin slice of ham on white bread. I felt a bit smug chomping into my thick sandwich of tuna with chopped celery on whole wheat.

  Joey and the Yaegers wandered in next, and I noticed that Janine sat up a little straighter and seemed much more animated. Remembering her comments about a boyfriend earlier, I wondered if perhaps they had a secret relationship. There was no sign of anything like that from him, but then he might just be better at hiding things.

  Angi sailed in a moment later, breezing by with a burst of friendly chatter directed, it seemed, at everyone in general and no one in particular.

  “I just don’t know,” she said, waving her hand dramatically, “how one person can be so creative. I believe I might be a genius of some sort.”

  “All that and beauty too,” Stuart said dryly. This earned him an elbow in the side from his wife, but then she laughed and patted the seat beside her for Angi to join them.

  “I suppose,” Angi slid into the seat, “you’re all dying to know what brilliant design I’ve come up with this time.”

  “Not really.” This came from Joey, who was opening a container of yoghurt. “But you’re going to force it on us, so we might as well get it over with.”

  “Those two will kill each other one of these days,” Janine hissed into my ear.

  “Ha! You’d just love that, wouldn’t you?” Angi said with a toss of her head. “Like I’m going to talk about it in front of a thieving scoundrel such as yourself.”

  I could hardly believe my ears! She’d just out-and-out called Joey a thief, right in front of everybody. I snuck a furtive peek at him to see how he was reacting, but he seemed remarkably undisturbed.

  “You, Angi dear, wouldn’t know what to do with a unique idea if it smacked you in the forehead,” he tossed back, plunging his spoon into the yoghurt. “We couldn’t possibly expect you to recognize originality in others.”

  This remark earned him a grape, which Angi hurled at him from her seat. He caught it easily and popped it into his mouth with a smile.

  “Surely we haven’t sunk to the puerile level of having food fights.” Darla stood in the doorway, arms folded and one eyebrow raised. In spite of her serious tone and stance, there was a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth, and I could tell she was just barely keeping her-self from laughing.

  “Food fights?” Angi echoed innocently, getting ready to lob another grape even as she spoke. “Of course not.”

  Another grape flew through the air, but too high, and Joey had to half-stand to catch it. He popped it into his yoghurt dish and stirred.

  While Angi and Joey continued the playful combat throughout lunch, I heard Janine let out a barely audible but obviously longing sigh.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I spent the rest of the day working on the bills while Janine managed to look busy without actually (as far as I could see) accomplishing anything. She kept up a steady stream of chatter between talking on the phone and telling me bits of gossip about the various staff members. Unfortunately, none of it was likely to be helpful in my investigation, unless the fact that Carol wore dreadful colour combinations or that James smoked cigarillos on the sly somehow figured into the solution.

  James hadn’t joined us in the lunchroom, and I wondered if he’d kept working and eaten at his desk, or maybe gone out somewhere to eat, or what the story was, but I didn’t want to ask any more questions than I already had. It was true that Janine seemed only too happy to have something to talk about, but too much curiosity was bound to strike her as odd at some point.

  By quitting time I’d learned nothing that seemed the least bit helpful. If anything, the bits of information I’d gathered throughout the day were likely to confuse me. It was pretty discouraging.

  It’s only the first day, I reminded myself, but that did little to cheer me. Mrs. Thompson was supposed to go back to work in two weeks, and it was vital that her name be cleared before then.

  I’d promised Betts and her mom that I’d stop by on my way home each day, but somehow I wasn’t all that eager to admit that I hadn’t made the slightest progress. It was probably for that reason I popped into the hospital to see Mr. Stanley first.

  He was propped up, with the top of his bed raised, and his dinner was there on a tray but it was almost untouched.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” I asked as I plunked down in the visitor’s chair beside the bed.

  “I was,” he grumbled, “but this here food, if you can even call it that, ain’t fit to eat. Ruined my appetite.”

  I looked at the dinner plate, where a thin slice of meat lay in congealed, nearly transparent gravy. Beside it, limp green beans sat in a puddle of water next to a blob of mashed potatoes. I saw that he’d taken a few bites but most of it was undisturbed. I have to admit it didn’t exactly look appetizing.

  “It looks cold,” I said slowly. “Maybe there’s some-where I could heat it up for you.”

  “Nah,” he said, “it was warm when it got here. It just doesn’t taste like real food.”

  “Is there anything I could get for you? From the cafeteria, maybe?” I asked.

  “Thanks, little one,” he said, “but it’s probably all the same. I’ll have a bite of toast later. Anyway, how’s Ernie?”

  “He’s fine.” I smiled to show I meant it. “A bit headstrong, maybe.”

  “He is at that,” Mr. Stanley chuckled. “But he’s still a fine fellow underneath it all. I’m awful thankful you’re taking care of him.”

  “The days must be long for you in here,” I said after we’d chatted for a few more minutes. “Would you like me to bring something for you to read?”

  “Well, now, I think I would,” he said, nodding. “If it’s not too far out of your way, would you stop at the library and get me Seventeen by Booth Tark
ington?”

  I’d never heard of either the book or the author, so I hauled out my notepad and scribbled them down, told him I’d do my best to have it for him the next day, and left. The thought of his cold, dismal dinner made me stop in the hallway and add “fruit and snacks” underneath his book request.

  I stopped to call Mom before continuing on to the Thompsons’ house, just to let her know I’d be late for dinner. She asked how my first day had gone, said she’d put a plate in the fridge for me to reheat later, then told me she and Dad were going to the Austers’ place to play Canasta.

  As I made my way along Hubert Street, I couldn’t help thinking that Mom was starting to loosen up a bit. There was a time not too long ago when she’d have asked me a thousand questions about why I was going to be late, where I was going, how long I’d be there, and on and on. It used to drive me crazy, so it was kind of strange how I felt almost, well, sad that she’d let up on the interrogations. It’s not like I was feeling sorry for myself or thinking she just didn’t care anymore or anything crazy like that. Just that it was a bit strange to be treated less and less like her little girl. Which, of course, I no longer am.

  Anyway, I got to the Thompsons’ house and went around to the side door, which everyone uses. Betts answered my knock, shoved the door open, and turned away as I stepped inside.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice heavy and helpless. “The police arrested Mom.”

  “No!”

  “About three hours ago. They took her to the station, but Dad went down too because they said she’d be released once the charges were laid. Then I think they said she’ll have to go to court for a plea or trial or however it works. I wasn’t listening all that carefully, if you want the truth. Do you know anything about that stuff?”

  “No, not really. Anyway, that’s down the road. The best thing to do is deal with things as they happen and not worry too much about what’s supposed to happen later. Did your mom call her lawyer to meet her at the police station?”

  “I think she told Dad to do that when they were taking her to the car. Can you imagine!” Betts’s voice suddenly quavered and her mouth trembled as tears began. “My mom! In jail! I just can’t believe it. Why can’t they see that there’s no way she did something like that?”

  By the time she’d managed to get that much out, she’d broken right down and was sobbing too hard to say anything further. My heart went out to her, and I hugged her until she finally stopped.

  “It just feels so unreal, you know?” she said softly. “How can they even think that about her? I mean, why would my mother do something like that? She is not a criminal!”

  “I wish I knew what to say,” I said, feeling as helpless as she’d sounded earlier. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for all of you.”

  It was true, too, I couldn’t. I tried to visualize my own mother being arrested and charged with a crime, but the idea was so ludicrous I couldn’t summon any kind of mental picture of it. Of course, last week I’d have said that nothing like this could possibly happen to Betts’s mom, either.

  What I could understand was why it would be almost easy for the police to believe Mrs. Thompson was guilty. Not only did the evidence point straight at her, but the temptation of that much money created an obvious motive. The only consolation in that thought was knowing that kind of motive would apply to anyone.

  Not wanting to leave her alone, I stayed with Betts for the next hour and we talked about the whole thing, but it was like going around and around in circles.

  I had intended to leave right away when Mr. and Mrs. Thompson arrived home. Instead, I found that Mrs. Thompson really wanted to see me.

  “Shelby, I’ve told my lawyer about you, that you’re working at NUTEC and trying to see what you can find out from inside the office. He thinks I’m quite mad, I’m sure, but I made it clear I’m not budging on this. At least he’s not still talking about taking a plea bargain, but he’s got who knows how many cases, and every conversation we have, he manages to bring up money one way or another.

  “So, I instructed him to copy the file for you. Every document, photo, every last scrap of evidence. He’s to have it ready for you tomorrow and I’ll send Keith to pick it up. I’ll give it to you when you come by after leaving NUTEC.”

  “There won’t be any problem for me to keep working there?” I asked. It seemed possible that now that she’d been charged officially she’d no longer have any authority at work. If she even still had a job, that is.

  “Oh, they’ll keep you all right. They have no choice. I’m still the boss, even though I’ll be suspended until there’s an actual verdict. If I were to be convicted, then they’d have cause to fire me, but not before. Anyway, Darla has been very supportive of me through this whole thing. She’ll do whatever I ask of her if she thinks it will help.”

  The problem was, Darla couldn’t help me because she didn’t know my real role at NUTEC, and I was still unwilling to have anyone there told the truth about that. Still, there was no point in adding to Mrs. Thompson’s worry at the moment. I said nothing and hoped that something would happen to clear my best friend’s mother very soon.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I’d barely walked into the kitchen at my place when I heard a crash from the living room. Since I knew I was home alone, it scared me half to death until I saw the black streak tear down the hall and disappear under the table behind me.

  “What have you done?” I asked, leaning down and shaking my head. Whatever it was, it sure didn’t sound like something Mom was going to be happy about.

  Ernie looked back at me, wild-eyed and terrified. I could almost see his little kitty heart pounding.

  “Oh, you’re all right,” I told him. “No need to put on a big show just to try to get out of trouble.” Then it occurred to me that maybe something had fallen on him and he could be hurt.

  “C’mere,” I whispered softly, holding my hand out toward him. “It’s okay, don’t be scared.”

  Ernie showed no sign of regaining his courage right then, and I figured trying to grab him would only lead to more trouble. Besides, he wasn’t bleeding or any-thing, so chances were good he’d only frightened him-self. Maybe, I thought, that will be a deterrent to future bad behaviour.

  I went to the living room to inspect the damage and found that he’d knocked over a ceramic peacock that my dad’s sister, Aunt Denise, had made. It was in dozens of pieces. I groaned inwardly and started gathering it up. This was bound to be the end of the line for Ernie. No way was Mom going to let me keep him another day.

  You’d almost think, with all the havoc he’d created, that would have been a relief, but oddly enough, it was-n’t. I was getting more and more fond of the little guy. Besides, I didn’t want to let Mr. Stanley down.

  There wasn’t much I could do about it, though I had a moment of temptation when I thought of cleaning it up and not saying anything. It was possible that Mom might not notice for a while. (Dad might never notice, being a guy and all, so it was only Mom I had to worry about.) I dismissed the idea quickly, though, because it’s been my experience that I’m not what you’d call lucky with that sort of situation. Somehow, I knew, it would come back and cause me grief.

  I gathered up all the brightly coloured chunks of ceramic and carried them to the kitchen, where I bagged them in a couple of paper bags and then a plastic one, which I tied. That went into the garbage in the porch, and I grabbed the broom and dustpan to go sweep up the rest. Before I could get there, though, the phone rang.

  “Hello?” The call display said unknown number. Probably a telemarketer.

  “Hey! You’re home.”

  “Greg!” My heart leapt with excitement and happiness to hear his voice on the other end.

  “Yeah. I called earlier and your mom said you were at work.”

  “Mmhmm. I started a new job today, at NUTEC.” I hesitated and then filled him in as quickly as I could on the whole stor
y.

  “There’s no danger,” I emphasized as I wrapped it up. Greg has a bit of a problem when he thinks I’m doing things that could get me hurt or killed. I guess boyfriends tend to be like that.

  “Be really careful anyway,” he said quietly. “If the stolen software is worth millions, well, there are people who would do almost anything to make sure they don’t lose that kind of money.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful,” I said. “Anyway, when are you coming home?”

  “Hopefully in a couple more days.” He made this funny sound then, like a he was clearing his throat and groaning at the same time. “I miss you like crazy, Shelby.”

  “Me too. I mean, I miss you. I can’t wait to see you.” I sighed and added, “I wish you were coming home now.”

  “I do too, in a way, but in another way I’m glad we’re here. This trip has been really good for Dad. I think it’s the closest he’s been to happy since my mom died.”

  Greg’s mother died in a fire two years ago, the summer before he and his dad moved to Little River. His father, Dr. Taylor, is a really nice guy, but you can always see this sadness in him, even behind laughter. I was happy to hear that the trip was doing him so much good.

  “He’s so much more like his old self, relaxed and everything,” Greg went on. “I’ve gotten used to seeing a hint of strain in him, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. It’s great to see him like this.”

  “I’m really glad to hear it, Greg,” I said. “I like your dad a lot.”

  “That’s one of the many things I admire about you,” Greg said softly. “You always think of others.”

  “Well, I’m pretty much a saint,” I said lightly, embarrassed by the compliment.

  “I’m not sure I’d go quite that far,” he said. “Anyway, I’d better get going. I’ll try to call you again when I know for sure what day we’re leaving to come home.”