Malevolent (14 page)

When she entered the hospital, she headed straight for the security office and was relieved to see Jeremy watching the monitors. He looked up as she entered and smiled. “Afternoon, Ms. Frederick. You get your car looked at?”

“Yes. I wanted to thank you again for getting it running. I took it to the mechanic yesterday.”

“They get you back to a hundred percent?”

“Yes, but that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The mechanic said there was practically no chance the terminal came off accidentally.”

Jeremy frowned. “He thinks it was deliberate? But who would do that?”

“I’ve been having some trouble since David…anyway, I think someone’s following me, trying to scare me.”

Jeremy straightened in his seat, clearly concerned. “If someone’s bothering you, then you need to go to the police.”

“I have, and there’s nothing they can do. There’s been no threat, and I have no idea who it is. But I’m not interested in becoming a victim in order for them to have a clue.”

“Of course not!”

“Anyway, all of this is to say that I parked in the visitor’s section in front of the building, so please don’t have me towed.”

Jeremy nodded. “And don’t you go walking out to that car without me.”

“I won’t. Thank you.”

“Be careful, Ms. Frederick.”

Emma nodded and headed out of the security office. She was so preoccupied that when she rounded the corner into the hallway, she almost ran right into a bouquet of flowers.

“Oh,” she said as she drew up short, then took a step back. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay,” a voice said, and the flowers lowered.
 

A man’s face emerged and his eyes widened. “Emma?”

She slowed her racing mind long enough to focus on the man with the flowers. “Stephen. It’s been a long time.”

She’d dated Stephen for three years of high school. He was the only child of one of New Orleans’s “good” families and had a bright future ahead of him following in his father’s footsteps as a lawyer. He was good-looking, popular, and intelligent, but he’d been more invested in their relationship than Emma. When she got word of her college scholarship in Dallas, Stephen had begged her to stay, even said he’d marry her, which probably would have sent his highbrow parents over the edge. But aside from knowing she wasn’t remotely ready to be a wife, Emma also wasn’t convinced that Stephen was “the one.”
 

The breakup had been heart-wrenching. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him and had been surprised with how badly he’d taken her rejection of the marriage proposal, but over the summer, his feelings cooled and they were on decent terms when she left for school. He even helped her pack her car. They’d stayed in touch by email for six months or so, then as most college students do, they got involved in their campus lives, and communication got less frequent until it finally stopped altogether.

“When did you move back?” he asked.

“About a year ago.”

“You look great,” he said with a huge smile. “But then, you always did.”

“Thanks. So do you.” And he did. He’d put on some bulk since high school, and his long wavy locks were darker and military short, but he still had the chiseled face and wide grin.

“Do you work here?” he asked. “Wow. That’s a stupid question given that you’re wearing a badge.”

“I’m a critical care nurse.”

“Wow. That’s a tough area.”

“It is, but it’s also very rewarding. I considered working for a specialist—weekday office hours and a regular schedule were tempting—but ultimately, I felt trauma was my calling.”

“I bet you’re great at it. You were always the calm in the middle of a storm.” His smile vanished and he shuffled in place. “I heard about…you know. I’m really sorry, Emma. I can’t imagine how horrible all that has been for you.”

“Thank you. It’s been…something. I don’t know that I can even describe it.”

“If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. I know we haven’t been in touch for a while, but I’m always there for you. We should get together for lunch or dinner and catch up—whatever works for your schedule.”

“That would be great.”

He put the flowers down and pulled a card out from his wallet and handed it to her. “Business hours you can reach me at the firm. My cell number’s on the bottom.”

Emma took the card and slipped it into her pocket. “Thank you. I’ll give you a call as soon as I catch a break.”

“It was good seeing you again,” he said, and gave her arm a squeeze.

“You too. I have to run or I’ll be late for my shift.”

She gave him a wave and hurried down the hall to clock in.
 

It had been nice seeing Stephen again—a smiling face from her past. She’d been gone for so long that most of her old friends had moved. A couple still remained, but they were knee-deep in baby diapers, a completely different place in life than Emma. Maybe when all of this was over, she’d take Stephen up on that offer for a meal and conversation. Right now, she wasn’t about to take the chance of bringing someone else into her circle. She was already worried about Shaye. She didn’t need another person on her conscience.

###

Shaye walked down the hallway of Wellman Oil and Gas and knocked on the door at the end of the hall. The nameplate on the door read “Richard LeDoux—Operations Manager.”

“Come in,” a deep voice yelled from inside.

Shaye opened the door and stepped inside. The man behind the desk waved at her as he yelled at someone on the phone. He was a big guy—muscles clearly visible beneath his polo shirt with the oil company logo on it—and younger than Shaye had expected. She’d figured that the man yelling behind the door would be midfifties. To have this position so young, Mr. LeDoux was either born into the right family or had serious skills. Since his last name wasn’t Wellman, she was going with the latter.

“That’s not negotiable,” he said and slammed the phone down. He looked up at Shaye and waved her to the chair across the desk from him. “Please sit. I’m sorry for the language. No, that’s not true. I’m not really sorry as the jackass deserved every word I said, but I apologize that you had to hear it.”

“That’s all right. I’ve had a word or two for jackasses in my day.”

He smiled. “Kindred spirits then. What can I do for you, Ms. Archer? Greta said you needed some information on a former employee? You don’t look like a cop or one of those hard-ons from an insurance company.”

“I’m neither.” She pulled out a business card and passed it to him.
 

His eyebrows went up. “PI? You look like you should still be in college. You must be one of those annoying overachievers.”

“I suppose you would know.”

He stared for a moment, then laughed. “Yeah, I guess I would. So what can I do you for, Shaye Archer, Private Investigator?”

“I wanted to know what you could tell me about David Grange.”

“Well, he used to work here and now he’s dead.”

“I know the highlights. I’m working for his wife.”

Richard frowned. “I didn’t think the state was pressing charges, given the circumstances and all. That’s what they said on the news, anyway.”

“There are no charges against my client for David’s death. She hired me because she’s being stalked, and the stalker is leaving her mementos related to David.”

“Seriously? Man, that is screwed up.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I can tell you aside from his job description and pay range. There were several levels of management between us, so aside from a brief conversation the day he interviewed, I never really talked to him.”

“Would you be willing to check his personnel file and see if he listed any next of kin other than Emma?”

“Sure. If you think it will help.”

“I honestly don’t know, but I’m checking everything I can. Would it be all right if I spoke to the employees who worked with him?”

Richard reached for his keyboard and started typing. “You’ll want to talk to Charlie Evans. The assistants work in pairs, so if anyone knows something about David, it will probably be Charlie.” He stopped typing and looked at the screen. “And it looks like you’re in luck. Charlie’s crew just got back from offshore.”

He grabbed his phone. “Hey, send Charlie Evans to the conference room. There’s someone who needs to speak to him.” He hung up and rose from his chair. “I hope it’s okay if I set you up in the conference room. I would stick around but I have a meeting with the owners in ten minutes.”

“That’s no problem at all.”

Richard opened his office door and she followed him back up the hall to the first room on the right. He flipped on the light and waved her inside. “I’ll have Greta check that personnel file for you. If you need to talk to anyone else, let her know and she’ll run them down if they’re here, give you contact information for them if they’re not.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate all your help.”

He grinned and winked at her, then hurried back down the hallway. Shaye poured herself a cup of water from the cooler in the corner. If Charlie Evans was as helpful as Richard, and actually knew something relevant, today might start looking up.

A couple of minutes later, a scruffy blond-haired man walked into the conference room and gave her a wary glance. Shaye put him late twenties to early thirties, and he had a look about him that said he was no stranger to trouble.
 

“The boss says you wanted to see me,” he said.

“Yes. My name is Shaye Archer.” She stuck out her hand. Charlie gave it a single shake and released it almost immediately. “Why don’t you have a seat?” she said.

Charlie pulled out one of the chairs and dropped into it, his arms crossed. Shaye shut the door to the conference room and sat on the same side of the table as him but a little ways down. Enough space to keep him from being crowded, but no table in between to make him feel like he was on trial. Eleonore had taught her well.

“I’m a private investigator working for David Grange’s wife,” Shaye said.

Charlie’s eyes widened. “This is about David?”

She nodded and his shoulders relaxed a little. Apparently, Charlie thought his own butt was in a sling. Now that he knew the summons wasn’t about him, he wasn’t as anxious. “Ms. Grange has had some trouble lately. Someone is harassing her, and they seem to know a lot about David and their marriage.”

“She don’t know who it is?”

“No. But he’s gone so far as to break into her house, so she’s rightfully scared.”

“Why don’t the police do something?”

“They don’t have any evidence to work with.”

Charlie snorted. “And Emma ain’t got the clout to make them jump. Cops suck.”

“The rules suck.”

He shrugged. “Amounts to the same thing for the people who need help, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it does. Can you tell me anything about David—specifically about family, friends, his past?”

“Ron got him the interview. Said they were cousins. He didn’t talk about no other family, except Emma, of course.”

“Was he friends with any of the other employees?”

“Not really.” He shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable. “Look, I know you ain’t supposed to speak ill of the dead and all, but the truth is I didn’t like David much. He was weird—nice one minute, then he’d completely lose his shit the next. It’s hard to be around people when you don’t know what’s going to set them off.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like this one time when we was offshore, some of us were playing poker. Willie was talking smack about his own mom, saying as how she was a crazy bitch who’d ran his dad off and probably caused his heart attack. David gets all antsy and tells Willie to shut up—that he didn’t know anything and maybe his dad was just another piece of shit that abandoned his family because it was convenient.”

“Willie’s talk made David mad.”

“More like furious. I know it probably sounded bad, but in Willie’s defense, I’ve known his family my whole life and his mother is definitely a crazy bitch. I’m surprised his dad stuck around as long as he did.”

“What did David do?” she asked.

“Willie told him to shut up since he didn’t know nothing about nothing. David’s face turns dark red and before we knew it, he flips the table over and launches across it, grabbing Willie by the throat. It took four of us to pry him off of Willie. If we hadn’t been there…”

“You think David would have killed Willie?”

“I know it. If you coulda seen the look on his face. I ain’t never seen anyone look that way. Don’t ever want to again.”

“Did you report what happened to management?” she asked, even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.
 

“No. Willie didn’t want to be on the hook for someone losing his job. A couple of us tried to talk Willie into reporting it, but he said David was a soldier and we should all cut him some slack this once. Willie served too. His whole family did. Willie said sometimes you see things that screw with you, and hopefully, David would work it out.”

“Did Willie ever talk to David about the attack?”