Trove (The Katie Walsh Mysteries) (7 page)

A bit apprehensive, Katie stood before the heavy oak door. Why was she here?
Oh right, I needed to know why he picked Alec.
She needed to know that his selection was aboveboard… and more importantly, why he didn’t pick her, why he didn’t have faith in her.

She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and knocked. She waited a moment and when she heard nothing, she raised her hand to knock harder. As she was about to rap the thick wood, the door opened and she went sailing through, landing on the floor.

She rose, trying to rearrange her clothes with an air of dignity. “I knew I should have taken ballet classes instead of tap dancing.”

A deep, rich laugh rose from the chair behind the desk. “My dear Katie, that last move was certainly an acceptable pirouette. You constantly amaze and amuse me with your ability to regroup so quickly.” He flashed a smile as he rose to meet her as she walked toward his desk.

Confused, Katie spun around to see who had opened the door. She turned back to face him. “How did you open the door… from your—”

“I’ve had a remote control installed. It saves me from getting up when I’m in the middle of something.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t know you get that many visitors. Still, I can sympathize with the aggravation of being interrupted at a crucial moment.”

He waved his hand towards the sitting area. “Please sit. I’ve taken the liberty of having fresh coffee and scones sent up.”

“Mm, sounds delish. You know I can’t help myself when it comes to good scones,” she said as she sat on the leather sofa, while he opted for the wingback chair. Katie poured the coffee and set his cup on the table in front of him. She quickly bit into one of the scones. She shook her head, briefly closing her eyes in bliss. “Mm, absolutely wonderful.”

She looked at him sitting in the chair, his silver hair neatly coiffed as always. His clear blue eyes were focused on her.
The only thing missing was a pipe
.

He smiled. “So shall we get down to brass tacks? Much as I love your visits, they are generally related to something you need to know. What can I help you with this time?”

She swallowed. Did she really only visit with him when she needed something? Was she that self-centered, self-focused? She set the scone back on the plate and brushed her mouth free of any stray crumbs. “I need to know why Alec MacGowan was given the director’s position, my position.”

He arched his eyebrows. “It was never yours, my child. Did you not wonder why you never had anything in writing? Did you not think it odd that it has been almost six months since the division was announced and yet never once was there anything in writing concerning you and the director’s position?”

He was right. It had bothered her that there had been nothing in writing. “But I thought…”

“I agree there was the possibility of it. Your expertise is surpassed by few and definitely no one at the Institute, but you are… how shall I say this delicately… you are lacking in social interactions with your colleagues. While you excel in delivering exciting and new results, you suffer from not dealing with the diverse group of researchers here at the Institute.”

“Because I don’t kiss people’s butts… that’s why I didn’t get the position?” she asked, her voice rising. “After all I’ve done, all I’ve accomplished, you withheld the promotion because I excel in a unique environment.”

“It’s more than that, Katie, much more. You’ve changed since your parents…” He hesitated. “Before their untimely deaths, you used to laugh, smile, enjoy life, but since then you’ve become withdrawn, dare I say distrustful—”

She jumped up and started pacing. “Distrustful? Don’t you think I have a right to? My parents died because some arrogant, hot-shot digger put his selfish quest for fame and fortune ahead of basic safety protocols. His ginormous ego killed them. And what happened to him? He lost his research grant and his fellow academics closed ranks around him, protected him. So yeah, forgive me if I’m distrustful. They saved him and left me to face my loss… alone.”

Dr. Austin steepled his fingers. “I’m not saying you have no right to react that way. I’m saying that it’s affected your personal relationships.”

Katie spun around and faced him, her hands planted on her hips. “How? I don’t have any relationship issues.”

“That’s my point. You don’t have any relationship issues because you don’t have any relationships.”

She felt her breath sucked out of her as sure as if she’d been punched in the stomach. Katie sank into the sofa. His words sliced through her armor, wounding her, scarring her soul in tiny little cuts that hurt a thousand times more than a single gouge. She fought back the tears, the hurt.

“You don’t trust people, Katie. You look for excuses to keep people at a distance.” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Your inability to release the anger, the hurt you keep bottled up inside, would lead to your failure in the director’s role. The director needs to work with others, engender cooperation—”

“And I don’t. The Ice Princess freezes people in their tracks.” She shook her head. “They avoid me, all except Lucy Millar, and she just loves to torment me.”

“Is that what you think she’s doing?” He sighed. “Lucy’s a good example. You’ve been here eight years and yet you’ve never attempted to get to know her. In your mind
, she’s out to get you. I think you’d be surprised to know that she was the one who brought Dr. MacGowan to my attention.” He raised his in hand in a “stop” motion. “And before you get upset and start vilifying her, I interviewed him myself. I found him quite personable and very knowledgeable.”

Katie rubbed her temple. “I see your point. I have issues. I’m a failure.”

“That’s not what I said, Katie. Don’t harden that armor you shield yourself in. Take it off. And yes, my child, we all have issues. The question is what we do about them. It’s been ten years since the accident. If you don’t come to terms with the damage it’s caused you now, then I’m afraid you never will.”

She wiped the silent tears from her cheeks and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with my new boss.” She
turned and walked quickly to the door, exiting before he could say anything or before she cried.

****

She walked across the lobby, her heels clicking on the tile floor as she headed to the door on the opposite side.
Is it too early for vodka?
She grabbed the handle, took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped in. She squinted, expecting to be blinded by intense lights as was the décor in her previous work area, but the lighting here was subdued, pleasing actually. There was an open work area on the left with four plasma monitors, each glowing in standby-mode blue. Each, she estimated, was about fifty inches in size with new rectangular glass-topped conference tables placed beneath them. She looked closer. They weren’t conference tables. They were the equivalent of touch-screen tablets, only gargantuan. At the far end of the room were two open space work areas.

Along the right side were two rooms that appeared to be offices. As she walked along, she saw nameplates outside each door. The one on the left labeled “Alec MacGowan, Ph.D.” and the one on the right “Katie Walsh, Ph.D.” Neither one held any more information.

She dropped her laptop in her office, took a quick look around, and went in search of the coffee machine. Some days she wished there were a way she could hook up an IV filled with the liquid gold, ensuring her she’d have a steady supply all day. She walked past Alec’s office, then back-stepped and stuck her head in. His desk lamp was on, but the office was empty. She took a deep breath and stepped in. There was a high-backed black leather chair behind the cherry desk. Off to the right there was a small conference table surrounded by three upholstered armchairs. The desk and conference table area sat on a large oriental area rug in colors of grey, black, red, and white, with an exposed floor of some stone she couldn’t identify. On the opposite wall was a room-length, waist-high credenza that matched the desk. While the office seemed to be the same size as hers, and furnished the same, it was clearly personalized. Placed sporadically along the top of the credenza were a combination of framed pictures and what appeared to be archaeological artifacts or more likely replicas. She hoped he hadn’t smuggled them from one of his digs or worse, bought them off the black market in antiquities. So much potential to unlock the past was lost when stolen artifacts ended up in the hands of private collectors.

“Looks like he intends to stay for a while.” Katie was puzzled. Why would he want this job? Surely it lacked the excitement a digger would thrive on. Why was he here?

She walked over to the credenza and picked up one of the pictures. In the picture she saw much younger versions of Alec and Robert and a blond man standing between them clearly enjoying themselves aboard a fishing boat. The blond man was holding a striper. She estimated the fish to be a bit over two feet in length. Alec was signaling thumbs-up. She smiled as she noted a genuine camaraderie reflected in their expressions.

“That was Josh’s first ocean catch. He’d only fished fresh water before that day.”

She jumped at the sound and dropped the frame. She watched in horror as it teetered on the edge of the credenza before crashing to the stone floor, shattering the glass.

She was mortified. Not only had she been caught snooping in his office, she’d just trashed his personal property. “I’m so terribly sorry,” she said, as she felt the stains of scarlet spread on her cheeks. “Obviously I will replace it,” she said as she knelt down and picked up the larger pieces, avoiding his intense gaze.

“Leave it.”

She ignored him, concentrating on the mess in front of her. She just couldn’t leave the glass scattered all over the floor.

“I said ‘leave it.’”

She glanced up at him.

He winked when he caught her eye. “Last thing I need is for you to cut your hand. I can’t have an industrial accident on your first day at work with me. It wouldn’t look good.” He laughed softly as he approached her. “Besides, just think of the paperwork I’d have to deal with.” He reached down, grabbed her elbow and applied enough pressure to force her to stand up.

She pulled her elbow back to her body and slowly turned to face him. “I really am sorry. What size is the frame? Is it a four by six or five by seven? I have a hard time telling the difference. Just let me—”

He interrupted her. “Relax. The picture is fine, no harm done,” he said as he carefully took the glass pieces from her hand and tossed them into the trash receptacle.

She jerked her hand back and rubbed it down her thigh, wiping it clean of any glass shards and trying to ignore the tingling caused by his touch. “I was just checking out the new space and I saw your desk lamp on.” She looked around the office and continued, “So I stuck my head in and when I noticed you weren’t here I took a quick look around. I’m interested in other people’s photographs.”
Particularly yours
, she thought. “It gives me a sense of the ‘real’ person,” she said, casting her hazel green eyes over his face, trying to gauge his mood.

The teasing laughter she remembered from that night echoed back at her. “I get it, Katie. You’re curious about me, admit it.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “We actually have a lot to learn about each other.”

Damn, she could feel her face flame hotter. “Actually,” she said, refusing to look at him, “I was really looking for the coffee maker. I presume we have one here. I can’t function without it.”

“Around the corner, just past my office you’ll find a small kitchen. I was just brewing a pot when I heard you. It should be just about done. Join me?”

She followed him to the kitchen. There was a full-size refrigerator, microwave, toaster oven, and a coffee maker. Her mouth twitched with amusement. “Looks like I’ll never need to leave the office.”

“We don’t have a stove. Wouldn’t you miss a home-cooked meal every once in a while?” he asked, a gleam lighting his grey eyes.

“I’m a baker,” she said, shaking her head, not sure if he was mocking her, “not a cook.”

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. His mouth curved into a smile. “Are you telling me that there is something that Dr. Katie Walsh doesn’t do well?”

She couldn’t help but notice how his grey slacks pulled taut across his thighs when he stood like that. “I never said that I could do everything,” she replied as her eyes lifted to meet his. “That comment was uncalled for.”

“Excuse me,” he said gently, dropping his arms to his side. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was teasing you.”

She leaned her back against the opposite counter, her hands in her dress pockets. “Dr. MacGowan, I think I should be honest with you. I’m actively looking for another position within the Institute.” She pushed a wayward curl off her forehead. “As I said in London, I don’t think I can work for you under… under all the circumstances.”

He retrieved two coffee mugs from the cabinet next to the sink and set them on the counter next to the coffee pot. He turned and faced her, looking at her intently. “Why are you trying to run away from me, Katie?”

The words spilled out before she could stop them. “It’s what I do best.” She gasped when she heard them.
Oh, just let me find a rock and crawl under it
, she thought as the heat burned her cheeks.