Design on a Crime by Ginny Aiken

Author:Ginny Aiken
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-07-04T05:11:00+00:00

"You don't have to stay and clean up this mess, Miss Farrell," Ozzie said. "I can certainly do it myself."

Sure, and in the meantime, pitch anything incriminating. "That's fine, Ozzie. Since it looks as though I'll have to deal with all of this one day, I'd just as soon get started now."

His sad face tightened into anger, and his lips sprouted a white rim. "Very well, miss. Please do let me know if I can be of assistance."

What was his deal? Hadn't he realized even the twentieth century was done and gone? He reminded me of a Victorian butler in a black-and-white classic movie.

"Thanks, Ozzie."

It didn't take long to realize that whatever the person who tossed the place wanted, they thought they'd find it among Marge's papers. A blanket of sales records hid the mahogany desk and cordovan leather executive chair. Because of the chaos, it was going to take time to sort through the mess and familiarize myself with Marge's filing system.

I started a series of piles. Receipts went into one, estate inventories into another, a year's worth of appraisals into the next. The rest wound up on the miscellaneous pile. This one grew at an alarming rate.

I picked up what looked like a memo, but a phrase caught my eye. "It is exceedingly mean-spirited of you to continue to deny me the opportunity to advance. To leave and seek employment elsewhere at this stage in my life would be sheer folly, as you well know.

"Forgiveness is a virtue, and while you assure me you've given it, your actions appear far more those of an extortionist extracting yet another drop of blood from her victim.

"I have more than paid restitution for my transgression, and you have even said you understood the desperation that drove me to it, yet you still seem to relish withholding the opportunity, the right, that would otherwise be mine. I don't know how much longer I can bear the status quo. Every man has a breaking point, and I'm afraid mine is frighteningly close. I dread to think what might push me over the edge, and much more what I might do once that happens."

The thinly veiled threat was signed by Ozzie.

And I was alone with him in this huge, empty warehouse. Not good.

I folded the memo, stuffed it into the zippered side pouch of my backpack purse, and then ran back into the hallway. "On second thought, Ozzie," I called, my voice reedy and shaky, "I'm heading home now. I'll wait until the power's back. The window in Marge's office doesn't let in as much light as I thought at first. See ya!"

Ozzie did have a motive for murder. And although I spent a few minutes with him during the intermission, most of the time I was on my own.

Who knows what he did while I was gone.

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