The Inheritance, page 26
The desire she’d recognized in Phyla’s dark eyes hadn’t gone away, though, and the dual messages were confusing, to say the least. At times, Phyla brushed up against her when reaching for something, or their legs would come together when they were seated next to one another. One time, Ash had walked into the dressing room thinking it was empty.
It hadn’t been. When she’d seen Phyla standing in the shower beneath the competing sprays of water, Ash had stood like a deer caught in the headlights of an onrushing car. Watching those beautiful breasts rise and fall and knowing that staring at the naked curves would soon overpower her self-control, Ash had turned to leave.
Phyla’s voice held a pleading note when she’d whispered her name. “Ash.” When she’d turned, those expressive eyes had very nearly pulled Ash into her arms. Like a coward, albeit a confused coward, she’d fled. She knew what she wanted and guessed Phyla wanted it, too, but she wasn’t willing to take that chance.
Luckily, the uneasy truce had held, and Ash had resolved to make the time to talk to her very, very soon.
The cold night felt good after her visit with Darby at Code One, where the heated air from so many bodies dancing in so many different ways sometimes could seem oppressive or cloying. She felt better than she had in years. Her head was clearing, she was getting the best sleep she’d had since taking on the responsibility of keeping Barney safe, and she really hadn’t had that many PTSD issues crop up lately.
Since it was late enough for the doors to be locked in the M building, Ash swiped her card over the lock and let herself in. She waved at Della, who no longer made her go through the metal detector. Sure, it was because Phyla had told them to stop wasting Ash’s time, but she appreciated the hard-working security guard who always had a wave or a kind word to give when Ash walked through the lobby.
Della had switched shifts so she could be home more with her husband, who required extra care since his latest operation. She began at eight in the evening, and seeing her now made Ash realize she’d stayed at Code One longer than she’d originally thought.
Phyla had also provided her with her own personal penthouse elevator card, and as Ash slipped her card into the slot, she thought about the first time she’d ridden it to the seventy-fourth floor. It didn’t seem possible that the evening before that day, she’d been rousted out of the alley beside the building. Her life had changed, and while she’d begun having tender feelings for Phyla, she wasn’t sure she was cut out to be the head of any business or corporation, let alone an amalgam of interests the size of Redux.
Daphne had gone home by the time Ash stepped off the elevator, but the light was still on in Phyla’s office. She walked into a business meeting between Phyla, Jessica, and Andre, one she’d thought would be finished by now. She saw, too, that Daphne hadn’t gone home as she’d originally thought. She was seated at the table with her pen poised over her notepad. Phyla recorded all her meetings, but she still had Daphne take notes on different things, specifically her impressions about how people were acting, what nervous gestures they used and when, things that Phyla could use to give her a slight edge over whomever she was meeting.
Phyla glanced at Ash. “I thought you’d be attending this meeting.”
“Sorry. I just needed to get out and clear my head.”
“Well, we’re almost done here. I’ll see you in the morning.”
By now, Ash knew the curt dismissal didn’t mean Phyla was irritated or angry at her. It was her way of ordering things in her universe, and if she came off as perfunctory, it was usually nothing more than having a ton of facts perfectly ordered in her head with little to no room for extraneous interruptions.
Ash had wanted to check on Barney anyway, so she found her way out to the firepit they’d called home for the last few weeks. The blankets had been laid out nice and neat, and Ash settled in, figuring Barney was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. She smiled to herself, thinking how cool it was that Barney actually had a bathroom with a shower and everything. The walls of the shower room were open at the very top, with the overhanging roof protecting the interior from any rain, sleet, or snow falling outside. It was that opening that allowed Barney to be able to use the bathroom with a minimal amount of anxiety, something Ash was grateful for. She’d never seen him happier, and as Diva settled in next to her, she ran her hand over the soft head and closed her eyes to wait.
After twenty minutes and no Barney, Ash knocked on the bathroom door. When she didn’t hear a friendly “What?” she pushed the door open and checked inside. Empty. Tamping down the tiny bit of panic fluttering in her belly, she first made a complete circuit of the outdoor patio and then headed inside to ask Della whether she’d seen him.
Since the doors were kept locked after hours, Della had very little to do but occasionally make her rounds, check the entry and exit points, and watch the camera feeds inside the security office. That’s where Ash found her. When she walked in, Della looked up from her log with questioning eyes.
Since Ash’s anxiety was beginning to ramp up, she didn’t waste time on friendly chitchat. “Have you seen Barney tonight?”
Della’s brows furrowed, “No, now that you mention it, I haven’t. What’s wrong? He’s not out there?”
“No. You came on at eight, right? He usually shows up around five or six. Is there any way to talk to the last guard and see if he saw him?”
“I can check the logs for you, honey.” She turned back one page of the long, three-ring binder on her desk. Ash’s heart stopped when Della’s brows pulled down low, and she murmured, “Oh, Lord.” She looked up at Ash. “The new security officer was on shift this afternoon and—”
“What?” The log was upside down for Ash, so she quickly flipped it around to read what it said. She read out loud, “Saw transient leaving bathroom in patio enclosure. Brought subject into security office. Subject became combative. Subdued subject and called police. They arrested same. NFI.” All the blood drained from Ash’s face. “Fuck.”
Even though Diva was leaning heavily into her legs, Ash turned and ran out of the building. Her brain kept telling her Barney was fine, but that little voice in the back of her mind was firing off panicked thoughts she couldn’t control. She ran the entire two miles to the nearest police substation and slid to a stop in front of the front desk officer. “You guys arrested an old guy earlier. His name’s Barney. Um, Barney Stettheimer. Is he here?”
The cop was an asshole Ash had dealt with many times on the street. He took a noisy drink from a dirty coffee cup and then took a massive bite of a pastrami on rye. With his mouth full, he shook his head. “That old coot? Crazier than a bag of cats on roller skates. Fucker flipped out in his cell and collapsed. I told ‘em he was just faking it, but the sarge called meds anyway. They scooped him up and took him to Eldridge.”
Ash fought past the panic that was causing her brain to wink in and out. It crossed her mind that maybe she should call Doc, but she didn’t have time. If Barney was freaking out, he needed her there to make them let him out into the fresh air where he could breathe. That’s all she needed to do was to get him outside, and he’d be fine again.
The ER was only four blocks away from the substation, and it wasn’t long before Ash was running up to the admitting desk. “They brought an old man in earlier. The police brought him. Barney Stettheimer. I need to see him. All he needs is to go outside, and he’ll be okay. Please.”
Diva jumped up and put her front paws around Ash’s waist and pressed in with her head as she’d been taught to do whenever Ash was experiencing extreme stress, but Ash was only peripherally aware of a pressure on her stomach.
The nurse’s kind eyes softened when he asked, “Are you related to Mr. Stettheimer?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, honey. Maybe you should come back here and sit down.”
Her anxiety was pegging past the redline now. She knew she was yelling but couldn’t stop herself. “What do you mean? Tell me what you mean! What the fuck’s going on?”
One of the ER doctors came out, and when the nurse explained what was wrong, the doctor, an older woman with a head full of grey hair and an air of authority surrounding her came around the desk and put a hand on Ash’s arm. “I’m sorry. If you’d just come to our social services area.”
Ash’s growl was low and threatening now. “Fuck social services. Tell me where Barney is. Now.”
The doctor’s face was as kind as the nurse’s when she quietly said, “I’m afraid Mr. Stettheimer didn’t make it. He never regained consciousness and passed away an hour ago. His heart wasn’t strong, but we did everything we could to stabilize him.”
Ash opened her eyes to a long, deserted road out in the middle of nowhere. There was an open field to her right and a forest to the left. Diva stuck close to her leg as she turned left and headed into the woods.
Twenty-Four
Phyla arrived at the office at her usual time. Six o’clock came early for most people, but she was habitually awake by four, always swam fifteen laps before showering and meeting Neville in front of her house at five thirty on the dot. Even though Phyla had tried to convince her otherwise, Ash didn’t usually wander into the office until eight, although she’d gradually moved that up since she and Barney had begun sleeping on the back patio.
She had to admit that offering them the use of the firepit area had been one of her better ideas. Ash was more rested than she’d ever seen, and on a couple of occasions, they’d invited Phyla to join them for a barbecue in their new “home.” At first, Phyla had thought them crazy when they asked her to join them, telling her they intended to start up the grill and cook Barney’s favorite, brats and sauerkraut, in weather that sometimes dipped below thirty degrees.
The first time, Ash had bullied her into her coat and gloves and dragged her outside, and damned if Phyla didn’t have the most wonderful time warming her hands over the gas fire and eating brats wrapped in hideous white bread buns heaped in Wildbrine dill and garlic sauerkraut. Phyla smiled at the memory but quickly schooled her features when Daphne walked in with the printed version of the day’s itinerary. It wouldn’t do to have people thinking she was going soft, even though lately her smile did appear at the most unexpected times.
Daphne set the paper on the breakfast table and turned questioning eyes on Phyla. “Is Ms. Redux not coming in today? It’s only that the two of you have a meeting with Elondra Thackery at ten this morning.” She felt silly calling her Ms. Redux. In her mind, Ash had changed from the homeless woman who’d walked in off the street and made a fool of her in front of her boss to someone Daphne had begrudgingly begun to look forward to seeing. But Phyla had told her to call her that, so call her that she did.
Phyla was already on the way to the table to continue her marathon morning reading. “She’s always here by eight, and there’s no reason to think that won’t happen today. Did you cancel this afternoon’s appointment with Senator Finch?”
Daphne glanced at her cell phone before answering.
“I take it you find your phone more interesting than me?” Phyla’s tone was biting and angry and unforgiving of such a breach of protocol. Nothing took precedence over Phyla McGuire. Nothing.
The phone clattered to the marble floor, and Daphne scrambled to pick it up. Daphne’s voice shook as she turned to face Phyla again. “No. Of course not. It’s nothing. And, yes, I canceled the Senator.” She hurried for the door, knowing she wanted to be out of Phyla’s line of fire after doing something so monumentally stupid as to check her phone while speaking to her.
“Then what is it?”
The tone was so peremptory that it brought Daphne up short. She returned to the breakfast table since Phyla didn’t like people shouting at her from across the room. Never mind that she was only six or seven paces away. She didn’t want to risk further irritating her boss since she hadn’t exactly been in her good graces since Ash had arrived. “It’s just that it’s already eight forty-five. I was double-checking since it’s true that Ms. Redux is always here by eight.”
Phyla rose and strode to her computer. Her newest business acquisition was experiencing some growing pains from the capital she’d infused into its anemic performance objectives, and the conference call she’d initiated that morning to shake up its upper management must have taken longer than she’d thought. She tapped the spacebar to wake it and then stared at the time. “Go find her.”
After a half hour of waiting, Phyla punched autodial for Daphne. “Well?”
The sound of the wind muffled Daphne’s words, but she caught “Bedding” and “Bathroom” and “Still looking.”
After another half hour, Phyla rode the elevator down to the lobby, where she found Daphne arguing with one of the daytime security guards. “What’s going on? You’ve taken an hour to do a job that should have taken ten minutes. Where is Ash?”
Daphne held her hands out to her sides, and her aggravation bled over in her response, “I haven’t found her yet. I knew you’d want me to turn over every leaf and stone, so I’m trying to get this idiot to stop checking people through the metal detector long enough to answer my questions.”
Phyla pursed her lips, then stepped to the metal detector. She ripped the plug from the wall and rounded on the guard. “Now. Where is Ms. Redux?”
The man wasn’t familiar to her, but then she never paid attention to the security guards. He stuttered some nonsense about being new and looked hopelessly toward the security office, where the more senior guard seemed to be hiding. When he received no help from that quarter, he turned and stammered, “I…I…I don’t know a Ms. Redux.”
When Phyla turned her steely gaze on the senior guard, the man jumped up and came hurrying over. “How can I help you, Ms. McGuire?”
The new guard squeaked, “Ms. McGuire?” Clearly, he hadn’t been on the job long enough to know who Daphne was, let alone Phyla.
Ignoring the new guard, Phyla glowered at the more senior man. “I’m not used to repeating myself. Where is Ms. Redux?”
The guard’s jowls wobbled as he shook his head. “We haven’t seen her today, ma’am. Barney either. Neither one.”
“Who was on duty over night?”
“That’d be Della, ma’am.”
“Get her on the phone.” She waited for him to find the number in the office. When he hurried out with the shared security cell phone and held it out to her, Phyla recoiled, “You don’t expect me to touch that, do you?”
The man blinked as he stupidly stared at the phone. “You wanted to speak to Della.”
Daphne grabbed the phone, pulled up the number he’d dialed, and plugged it into her cellphone. She disconnected his and tossed it back to him before pushing send on hers.
Della answered on the first ring. “Toby? What’s going on?”
“This is Ms. Porter calling for Ms. McGuire. Did you see Ash and Barney out on the patio last night?” She listened a few moments, and then her eyes widened. She looked at Phyla with real fear in her eyes.
Phyla’s eyes narrowed, and she held out her hand. When Daphne dutifully handed her the cell phone, Phyla took it and stepped away from all the people watching the spectacle of their ice queen boss deigning to deal with a security issue. “This is McGuire. What did you just tell my assistant?”
“Ms. McGuire. I put everything in the log, so I thought you knew.”
“What was I supposed to know?”
“Well, last night Ash, er, Ms. Redux came to ask me if I’d seen Barney. I hadn’t, so she asked me to check the log. That’s when we found it.”
“Found what?” Phyla had passed from irritated to pissed off at having to play twenty questions.
“Well, last night, before I came on at eight, one of the newer security men saw Barney coming out of the bathroom. He didn’t know that you’d given him permission to sleep on the back patio, so he grabbed him and brought him inside. Barney got agitated, so Jason, that’s the new security officer, subdued him and called the police, who came and arrested him for trespassing and assault.”
Despite close to twenty men and women in dark business suits waiting to be allowed past the metal detectors, the room was utterly silent as everyone watched to see what Phyla intended to do. She didn’t disappoint. First, she handed the phone back to Daphne. “Get the Police Commissioner on the phone. I’ll talk to him in my office.”
Next, she turned to the newest security officer, who’d backed away and was looking anywhere but at the flames shooting from the eyes of the woman who owned the entire M building where he worked. “Are you Jason?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re fired.”
“Yes, ma’am, I kind of figured that.”
Daphne joined Phyla on the elevator. They rode up in silence, and when the elevator doors opened, Daphne ran to her phone, looked at the number she’d found on her cellphone, and called the main number for the police department.
Phyla went immediately to her desk, and when she heard Daphne arguing with someone, she put the phone on speaker and punched the lit button. “This is Phyla McGuire. Who is this?”
“This is Captain Longtree, ma’am. I’m Commissioner Dunstead’s aide-de-camp. I was trying to explain to your assistant that the commissioner is in a meeting with—”
“I don’t care if he’s meeting with the pope. If he’s not on the phone in thirty seconds, I will have him removed from his duties as the Commissioner of Police. Would you like to bet your captain’s bars that I can’t make that happen?”
“I’m walking into the meeting now, ma’am.” There was a muffled conversation, and then Police Commissioner Dunstead came on the line.
“Phyla. How can I help you?” Dunstead was very aware of what side his bread was buttered on. He’d dealt with Phyla before and had no desire to go head-to-head with her anytime soon.
