Double Down (17 page)

“
No, since you found it, he needs to hear about it from you. I’m hoping he trusts me as much as you.” I put my hand on his arm. “I want to thank you for that. He should see this before someone else brings it to his attention. It could tell us a great deal if this reaches him from any source, other than IT.”

“
You think she was working with someone?”

“
It seems clear someone out there doesn’t like me. If they knew about this, it would be a perfect opportunity to try to discredit me.”

“
I found a couple of other things in the same file,” he said, handing me two more papers. One was a copy of a St. Louis newspaper article, and the other seemed to be a copy of a page from an accounting ledger. As I scanned the newspaper article, one name jumped out at me, Martin Sanders, the cook/union president who hated me and denied meeting with Monica. According the article, Martin was convicted of burglary several years ago in St. Louis, and sentenced to spend five years in jail.

I looked up at Mike. “Have you checked Martin’s personnel application yet?”

Mike smiled. “His answer to the question, ‘Have you ever been convicted of a crime?’ was no. He completed his application three years ago. According to the article, he got out of jail one year prior to coming to work for us. In his work history, he lists that time as self employed.”

“
Monica knew that he lied on his application! Call security and see if they can verify the conviction, and that Martin actually served time. Then contact his supervisor and have him put on suspension pending investigation. When he calls here, and trust me he will, have Charlene schedule an appointment with me some time next week. Mike, I really believe that this man is unbalanced. Since he already hates me, I’d rather handle this myself.” When Mike looked apprehensive I added, “I’ll make sure that security is with me during the interview, and I’ll even have them walk me out to my car afterwards.”

He nodded and made a note.

“
This other paper looks like something out of an accounting ledger. What do you think it is?” I asked.

Mike pointed at one entry listing union dues paid, and another which showed a disbursement to the National Teamsters Union. “I believe it’s from the local teamsters' union account books. If you look down the page, there are several cash withdrawals with no explanation. I think Monica found evidence that someone was taking money from the fund.”

“
And using this to blackmail them. Since Jerry McCrae would be the one authorizing expenditures, it could explain why he met with her during negotiations. Call the detective working Monica’s case and give him copies of all of these.” I made a mental note to be sure and tell Delgado as well.

Since it was still early, I decided to see if I could reach Dee in St. Louis. Her secretary put me through.

“
Hey girl, I heard about your accident. Are you okay? You’re not back to work already are you?”

“
I’m healing nicely. No. I just stopped in for a few minutes today. I plan to be back to work fulltime on Monday.” After a few more pleasantries, I got to the point of my call. “Now that Monica is dead, I’m finding out a lot about the things she was doing behind my back, like changing employee statements and blackmail. I can’t believe she wasn’t doing the same thing there.”

There was a long moment of silence. I waited, assuming that Dee was deciding how much to tell me. I heard a big sigh and then she began, “I guess I owe you an apology. When Monica first started here, she was a clerk. She worked hard and learned fast. I had no complaints. So when management suggested I promote her after the first year, I agreed. However, little by little as her responsibilities grew, so did my uneasiness. She began having one-on-one meetings with managers. When I asked what issues they discussed, I got vague answers. You have to understand, Val, I don’t have the support you do. When I asked questions, they told me she was doing a great job, and I should back off. As time passed, she handled more and more things that should have gone through me. I suspected she was changing complaint statements, maybe even blackmailing managers, but no one would speak up. I admit, when she came to me and asked to be transferred, I jumped at the chance to get rid of her.”

“
Thanks a lot. Couldn’t you have at least given me a heads up?”

“
If I had, you would have gone to your GM. He would have backed your decision to reject her transfer. We all know he’s the golden boy. No one would challenge his decision. If I kept her, in a few more months, she would have had my job. I’m a single mother with two kids to support. I’m sorry Val, but I couldn’t take that risk. I knew you could handle her. You’re better at your job than I am and well respected. She could never be the threat to you that she was to me. I know it sounds cowardly, but I did what I felt I had to do to survive.”

I had to admit she was right. If she had told me the truth, I never would have accepted Monica and Tony would have backed me. I lost a lot of respect for Dee, but I felt sorry for her too. Her situation was different. I wondered what I would have done in her place. There was no point in being angry, so I moved on. “Did Monica have anyone she was close to, someone she might have confided in?”

“
I know she was friends with Connie Rigdon. She’s one of our cocktail waitresses. I don’t know if they kept in touch after she left. It might be interesting to see who shows up at her funeral. I wondered if you were planning on coming, but since you just got out of the hospital, I guess that’s out of the question.”

“
When is it?”

“
Her mom told me they were shipping her body back today. She planned to have the funeral on Saturday evening. Let me know if you plan to send anyone from your property. I’ll make sure we have a room reserved.”

I hesitated only a moment before telling her I would be there. I called Tony and asked permission to represent the hotel at Monica’s funeral in St. Louis. I was sure Mike had already talked to him about the documents he’d found, but he didn’t mention them. He expressed concern about my health, but accepted my assurances that I would be fine. His secretary arranged for my plane tickets, and said she send flowers on behalf of the Royal. Now all I had to do was break it Mom and Delgado that I would be flying to St. Louis tomorrow.

Chapter Eleven

Fortunately, I got home a few minutes before Mom. Although, she didn’t have any idea how long I’d been out, she took one look at me and sent me to bed for a nap. Since I was tired, and I figured I would need all my strength for the inevitable confrontation that would ensue once I told her about my plans, I meekly complied. I slept for several hours, waking only when the phone rang. Delgado said he would be over shortly, giving me just enough time to repair the damage the nap had done to my hair and face.

Determined to look healthy, I took extra care with my makeup. I brushed my hair straight, using the flat iron to add shine. While searching in my overnight case for my blush, I discovered a bottle of perfume. I rarely wear perfume, but I thought why not? I could use all the help I could get. I struggled into a low cut turquoise silk dress Charlene had packed for some reason. I hoped it would prove enough of a distraction that Delgado wouldn’t examine my reasons for wanting to go to St. Louis too closely. The sling on my left arm didn’t help with my attempt at sex appeal, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. I got rid of the neck bandage. Makeup covered the bruise on my head, which had faded to pale yellow. My hair would hide both the scar and the bruise.

I stood at the window looking out as Delgado’s car rolled into the driveway. As usual, just the sight of him set my heart racing. The pale blue color of the pinstriped shirt he had on set off his dark hair and tan. I’d heard that people who lived together for a long time didn’t really look at each other anymore. Would I ever get tired of looking at him? Would there ever come a time when the sheer masculine beauty of the man wouldn’t astound me? I imagined that like Cary Grant, Delgado would one of those men for whom age adds to, rather than subtracts from, their appeal. I couldn’t begin to understand why he was attracted to me, but I was determined to enjoy it for as long as it lasted.

I met him at the door. He took one look at me, smiled, and pulled me into his arms. I stayed there, making the most of his kisses. They might be the last ones I would get tonight. Once he pulled away (in spite of our agreement, he was always the one who stopped first) I asked if he minded if we went out to dinner.

“
Mom has been working all day. I’d like to take her out for a change. I know she won’t let me cook, and frankly my skills in the kitchen are not all that great even when I have two working hands.”

He brushed his hand down my hair. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

I stepped back and twirled around. “What do you think? How do I look?”

“
Beautiful.” His eyes darkened. “If you’re mom weren’t here . . .”

I smiled. “What?”

He pulled me to him, hugged me tight, and then kissed me on the forehead. “Never mind. I’ll just keep reminding myself that you’re still an invalid, even if you don’t look like one. You go tell you mom. I’ll make some reservations. Where do you want to eat?”

I might have been tempted to find some excuse to get rid of Mom if I didn’t an ulterior motive for wanting to go out. I needed to be in a public place when I told them about going to St. Louis.

“
I don’t care as long as it isn’t on the strip or in a casino.”

Most of the best restaurants in Vegas are in the major strip hotels. However, when you work on the strip, that’s the last place you want to go. Dining anywhere in my own hotel was always a disaster. No matter whom I was with, managers and even employees would stop by my table to ask for advice, or run a problem by me, sliding in next to me in the booth, or even pulling up a chair. Since these were real people with real problems, I could never turn them down. Often the discussion lasted into dessert, with my original dinner companion hearing more than they should, while essentially being left out of the conversation.

Delgado selected a cozy steak and seafood restaurant popular with politicians and business executives several blocks off the strip.

Even though the place was packed, one smile from Delgado had the hostess falling all over herself to find him the perfect table, in spite of the Friday night crowd. If Delgado hadn’t stepped back to allow Mom and I to go first, I doubt she would have noticed we were with him. Fortunately, our waiter was a man. I ordered the lobster. Delgado wanted a steak, and Mom, always searching for new recipes, decided to try the house special featuring crab in a puff pastry.

While we waited for our salads, I asked Mom about her luncheon. When we had exhausted that topic, I steered the conversation to Delgado’s day. Finally, when I couldn’t stall any longer I told them about stopping in at work and calling Dee. I didn’t mention the documents Mike had found. I planned to share that information with Delgado later when we were alone. Our entrées arrived. As soon as everyone had their mouth full, I told them of my plans to attend the funeral.

As expected, Mom freaked out. “Valerie you simply aren’t well enough to be going half way across the county.”

“
Relax, Mom, It’s not like I’m going to walk the whole way. I’ll be sitting on a plane. I’ll have plenty of time to rest.” She was not pleased, and continued to rant quietly, while I attempted to reassure her.

Surprisingly, there was no explosion from Delgado. He stayed quiet, even excusing himself to go to the men’s room part way through the discussion. He didn’t even look mad. I was beginning to think I had overestimated his concern for me when he leaned over, and patting my mother’s hand said, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Peterson, I’ll take good care of her. I’ll make sure she gets plenty of rest.”

“
What?” I asked.

“
I’m going with you, of course.” He said it mildly like it was something we had agreed on, and then skewered me with flinty green eyes that said this wasn’t negotiable.

I'd prepared for a fight. I wasn’t prepared to have company. My agenda included finding out more about Monica’s life in St. Louis, interviewing friends and co-workers, not taking naps. Under normal circumstances, a romantic weekend away with Delgado would be right at the top of my wish list. However, in that fantasy, I had on sexy lingerie, not a sling. Instead going to a funeral, we stayed in and ordered room service. When I looked over at Mom, she was calmly eating her crab; apparently confident with Delgado along all would be well. This obviously wasn’t the moment to argue the point. When Mom wasn’t looking, I shot Delgado a look that said this discussion wasn’t over. He gave me a blazing smile that could have melted the ice off a glacier. Dazzled, but not daunted, I gave him a tight smile back.

We finished our desserts. Delgado called for the check, which he insisted on paying. Since my version of feminine equality, embraces letting a man pick up the check, I didn’t object. Besides, as he so aptly put it, he could afford it. I should have known he’d never give me the chance to talk to him alone. On the way home, he casually asked the specifics about my airline tickets. Walking us both to the door, he gave me a quick kiss, said he’d pick me up at five thirty and left. Resigned, I decided that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Delgado couldn’t very well stop me from talking to people, and that’s all I really wanted to do.

Once inside, I realized that nothing Charlene had packed for my recovery at Mom’s would be suitable for the trip. After Mom went to bed, I hopped in the rental car, and drove to my place to repack.