Murder Takes a Dare: The First Marisa Adair Mystery Adventure (Marisa Adair Mysteries Book 1) (13 page)

Marisa’s anger threatened to boil over, but she knew she couldn’t give into the luxury of exploding. Instead, she pushed the papers across the desk to him. “You can do a written corrective action addressing her failure to keep her workstation locked, with sterner consequences for a subsequent infraction.” She decided to take a risk. “You can call the corporate human resources office. They’ll confirm what I’m telling you.”

With a small prayer, Marisa played her trump card. “Remember, Payton, if you act on your own, against my and the corporate human resources office advice, and a lawsuit is filed, you’re on your own. No backup from high-powered, corporate attorneys. And I wonder what that will do to your ambitions and your schemes.”

His mouth twisted in a snarl of fury. Visibly, Reed took a deep breath. He even smiled. “Marisa, you win. Ross stays.” Something flickered in the smooth lines of his face.

Marisa thought it might have been an unwilling respect, but it was gone too quickly for her to tell.

Reed reached into his dark blue suit coat to dig in the inner pocket.

Horrified, Marisa started to rise.
Is he pulling out a gun? Had he meant to kill me after he killed Jonah? Had he lost his nerve after gunning down Jonah the day before?

He pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. He extracted a cigarette, clamped it between his lips, and flicked the lighter.

Marisa fell back into her chair. “You can’t smoke in here!”

He glared and spoke around the cigarette. “I am the boss, and I can do whatever the hell I want.”

“You’ll set off the fire alarm and the sprinkler system! There will be a hell of mess in here! The computer—”

He lit the cigarette, drew deeply, and expelled the smoke directly into her face.

Marisa automatically scooted backward, away from the noxious cloud. Her elbow bumped the water bottle. Before she could think it through, she grabbed the bottle and sprayed water directly into Reed’s face.

The fire on the end of the cigarette extinguished with a hiss. His eyes widened in rage. His mouth fell open, the wet cigarette stuck to his bottom lip. A single, thin plume of smoke dismally rose from the cigarette. Water dripped from his face onto his white shirt and blue jacket.

Reed leaped to his feet, trembling with rage. He threw the cigarette to the floor. His face flushed nearly purple, his eyes bulged, and he leaned over her, his hands clenched into fists. He opened his mouth.

I am so fired,
Marisa thought.

Reed laughed.

Marisa sucked in a surprised breath.

His hands opened and his face lightened as he dropped back into the chair, his body shaking with laughter. He pulled a snowy handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the water. “Marisa, when I get this hospital on firmer ground, I intend to create a chief operating officer position. The COO would be my right-hand person. You’re intelligent, savvy, and you’re great at your job. The patients, the families, and the staff, at the management and the front-line levels, like you and respect you. You’re obviously not afraid of me. I want you…as my COO.” A ghost of a smile appeared as he reached across the desk and touched her clenched hand. 

Marisa felt as if her entire world tilted madly, sliding everything out of its familiar pattern. Fleetingly, she wondered if she’d fallen asleep at her desk, and this was some sort of twisted dream. She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued.

“If it works out, I will take you with me on my rise to the top. I think we’re more alike than you will admit, Marisa. There’s more to you than the conservative suits and school marm hairstyle. You have an untamed side to your personality, one you generally keep hidden.” Reed’s eyes seemed to gleam with secret knowledge.

With a stab of fear, Marisa wondered if Payton had seen her at the strip club the previous night.

“There’s a hidden side to you, a darker side, a hungry predatory prism, the part of you constantly pushing the envelope to get what you want.” Reed leaned across the desk, his eyes on her face. “I think you cross the line sometimes, but you don’t violate your code of honor. And it’s a code you’ve developed for yourself, not one based on society and its rules. Marisa, that unique code of honor and that refusal to give up are what puts you closer to me than you want to admit. I believe we’re compatible on many levels.” His hand squeezed hers once, gently. “Just think about it.”

By the time she found her voice, he was gone.

* * * * *

The morning sun filtering through Jonah’s blinds glinted on Russell’s thick lenses. His face was set in mule obstinate lines as he firmly tugged on the laptop. “Give me that computer.”

Marisa bared her teeth as she tried to pull the computer from Russell’s hands. “It was my idea to search Jonah’s apartment!” She dug her heels in the deep carpet of the cozy living room and unexpectedly pushed the computer toward him.

Surprised, he staggered backward, hitting the backs of his legs on the buttery soft sectional couch taking up two walls, and falling into the beige leather. Pulled forward and off balance, Marisa toppled next to him. Although his breath was knocked out of him in a masculine whoosh, he managed to retain his hold on the lap top.

Marisa growled in frustration. “Russell! I could have called the police when I found you here in Jonah’s apartment, obviously right after you’d broken and entered! But no, I thought it would be a better idea for us to work together!” In an attempt to catch him off guard, she tried to twist the computer away from him. They both tumbled off the couch, with Russell on the bottom and Marisa on top, both gripping the slender computer. Straddling Russell with her hands still desperately gripping the computer, Marisa twisted her head sharply toward the sound of the door opening.

“You two really should get a room.” At the open door of the condo, a tall, older woman leaned against the door frame. “Really, such a blatant demonstration of sexual chemistry is so embarrassing. I don’t know where to look.” She slid inside and closed the door.

Marisa opened her mouth to speak, but only managed a wheezing squeak. She cleared her throat. “Who are you and what are you doing here? The door was locked. You’re breaking and entering.”

With lithe grace, the woman glided forward a step, and cocked her head. Her face was smooth and tight, and the skin around her mouth was rigid, as if she’d had a face lift. Her ash blonde hair framed her face in neatly curving wings. Her blue eyes were cool and expressionless. With her height, her pure white tailored jacket and long, slim skirt, and her bone heels, she looked like a model who’d stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine geared toward the older set.

“You’re calm and reasonable in a tight spot. I’m impressed. However,” she reached into the small, bone purse, “this trumps any amount of reason.” She pulled out a small handgun, and trained it directly on them.

Marisa gasped.

Russell pushed Marisa off him. Regaining possession of the computer, he stood up. “What do you want?”

Marisa scrambled to her feet.

Russell firmly placed his body between her and the armed stranger.

She smiled, revealing perfectly even, smooth white teeth. The hand holding the gun was rock steady. “I want the same as you, I imagine. We are all here together, conspiring in breaking, entering, and searching a dead man’s apartment.”

Marisa stared at the gun. The bone inlay on the gun perfectly matched the woman’s purse and shoes. She had to clear her throat. “I am Marisa Adair. I was a friend of Jonah’s…”

“I know who you are, Ms. Adair. I also know Jonah finally got you alone in your little broom closet office and he told you what he was so desperate for you to hear. What did he say? I know Jonah dealt in information.” She waved her gun around the room. “He was obviously good at what he did. Not only was he evidently a confident young man not afraid of pastels—peach walls and cream and lilac curtains at the window—but he also managed to pay for this expensive condo, a sports car, and all of his toys. He not only sold information, but also accepted money from his ‘clients’ to keep quiet.

“What if he was blackmailing you, Ms. Adair? You lived a double life for years, yet you managed to keep your … colorful activities a secret. What would happen if your secrets became public? Your friend, Mrs. Althea Flaxton, is a wealthy woman. You didn’t want to take a chance on the conservative, former schoolteacher finding out the depths of your previous depravity and turning away from you in disgust. Why, she could be so shocked and appalled, she would have changed her will, thereby disinheriting you.”

Marisa was afraid of the gun, but she was also getting pissed off. “For one thing, you bony, half-starved bitch, Althea is a retired teacher and she is definitely not wealthy—”

Russell poked her.

“Ouch! Would you keep your hands to yourself?”

“Would you keep your mouth shut? Do you want to set her off?”

With her free hand, the intruder wearily rubbed her forehead with her long, pink tipped fingers. “Jesus. You two are giving me a headache. I may shoot you just to get some peace and quiet.”

Russell smiled winningly. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We’re listening. Really.”

“Now where was I? Oh, your second motive for murdering Jonah.”

Marisa started to speak, but Russell’s shoe coming down on her foot changed her outraged comment to a squeal of pain.

“What would happen to your career if your secret life came out of the dark and into the light of day? Would your employer understand your propensity for carousing in various honky tonks?

“Happily for your ass, which was in a sling, you keep a loaded gun in your desk drawer. Of course, the gun is there for self-defense in case of workplace violence, but hey, you’re smart, resourceful, and flexible. You eased open the drawer, and stealthily hid the gun by your side in the folds of your skirt. You pretended to hear a noise outside the door. You got up, ostensibly to check for the source of the noise. You were behind him. Jonah had no idea he was in danger; he simply sat in his chair, patiently waiting for his fate. He had no reason for fear. You lifted the gun, cocked it, and you shot him in the back of the head.”

“Stop it!” Her fists clenched, Marisa took a step forward.

The woman’s body tightened, like a predatory cat preparing to lunge at her prey. “Don’t move. Jonah fell forward on your desk. You wiped off the gun; if anyone found it, you didn’t want your fresh prints on it. No one would think to check your hands or your skirt for evidence of a fired gun. You called for assistance. You made sure you were seen kneeling next to him, as if to help him. The receptionist told the police he didn’t see anyone enter or leave your office. That’s because no one did. You killed him to save yourself, your reputation, and your inheritance.”

Rage hit Marisa, not hot, not boiling, but cold and deadly. “You’re insane. Jonah’s occupation wasn’t Sunday school clean. He lived life as he chose, and it wasn’t my place to judge him. I’ve learned over the years life is rarely black and white; rather, it’s shades and degrees and variations of every color of the rainbow. I loved Jonah, for his love of life, his willingness to accept the good and bad in his friends, and his loving care of his grandmother. I would never have hurt him.”

The woman smiled. “I’d already reached that conclusion.” The gun moved to cover Russell. “And you must be Russell Meeks, the bumbling and diffident nursing home payroll coordinator, with baggy pants and eyes hidden by absurdly thick glasses. For a wimp, you certainly moved quickly to make yourself into a human shield for a woman you just met.”

Marisa shoved him to the side. “I can take my own bullet, thank you very much!” As she realized what she’d said, she paled.

“As an employee of the nursing home which housed Jonah’s grandmother, you had plenty of opportunity to connect with Jonah. And you also happened to be on the scene when Marisa found Zoe’s body, and you called in the anonymous report to the police. Perhaps you were the killer, returning to the scene of the crime.”

Marisa was getting tired of the stranger’s histrionics. “If you’re convinced we’re killers, why don’t you call the authorities?”

“I haven’t called anyone because I think you’re both maddening yet also innocent. Innocent and it is possible you don’t know what you know.”

“What?” Marisa was mystified.

The blonde head nodded. “Jonah was killed in your office and you found Zoe Walker’s body in the cemetery.”

Marisa turned on Russell. “I can’t believe you blabbed about that!”

Esther laughed. “He didn’t give you away, you just did that yourself. At any rate, your involvement with two murders in one day is quite a coincidence.” She reached behind her with an easy, feline grace, and clicked the deadbolt. “I have a theory. As shown by the statements of the receptionist, Brandon Proctor, and the auditor, Brad Jacobs, Jonah was so desperate to see you his hair was sticking up all over his head. Oh, wait, his hair always stuck up.” She smiled to herself. “What did he say, Ms. Adair?”

Marisa spread out her hands. “He died before he could say anything.”

Several moments passed. The cool blue gaze rested on the computer. “I bet the laptop’s files are password protected.” The sunlight from the window turned her hair to a golden glow. She motioned with the gun, and the pure silver caught the sun. “Take it into the kitchen and put it on the table.”