Death of the Office Witch by Marlys Millhiser

Author:Marlys Millhiser
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504010252
Publisher: Chicken Soup for the Soul

20

How do you know Edward Esterhazie?” Richard Morse confronted Charlie, who was about to go looking for Ed and her mineral water. “You never told me. Charlie, I’m devastated.”

Charlie was beginning to notice other people having a little trouble with consonants, and with standing still without rocking, and with dilating pupils. “Why do I never notice what I’m supposed to?”

“You didn’t notice twenty percent of Legionnaires’ Disease was Esterhazie money? We’re talking cement here. Charlie, I’m disappointed in you.”

“I never heard of Legionnaires’ Disease. Well, I’ve heard of the disease, but—”

“You never heard of Leg—that was box office. Smash. Hit. I can’t believe what I am hearing. And what’s that Dalrymple doing here? Don’t I pay enough in taxes I shouldn’t have to put up with police gate crashers?”

“Take it easy, Richard.” Charlie’s boss could be a belligerent drunk. She tried to deflect his attention. “Who are the Oriental types?” She’d noticed three more.

“Japanese. They just bought Ursa Major.”

“God, did I not notice that, too?”

“Won’t be announced till tomorrow. You making any headway tonight? I’m counting on you, Charlie. Congdon and Morse has got to get the cops off its back and itself back to business.”

She wanted to ask how he could count on someone who devastated and disappointed him, but was growing weary of the smart-ass repartee. Probably just the time of the month.

The timing of the party had been a major blunder from the beginning, and she watched Richard Morse walk off with a disconsolate droop to his shoulder blades. Things were not going according to plan. The entertainment press here was probably quizzing guests on their reactions to the murder at the agency and the strange disappearance of Mary Ann Leffler instead of the fantastic possibilities of Phantom of the Alpine Tunnel. This kind of blunder was not like Richard.

He’s desperate, Charlie. That should be telling you something. Just because you don’t want to hear it, doesn’t mean it isn’t so.

Where would she and Libby be without him?

Wind rippled the surface of the pool and sent goosebumps climbing Charlie’s exposed spine and puckered her nipples into hard little tingles. There were other agencies, and she was good at what she did. Besides, she could always go into real estate.

The four Japanese businessmen stood together in front of the lemon tree on the other side of the pool. It was lighted from under water, and the night was dark enough that she saw their hands holding drink glasses or gesturing out in front of their bodies more clearly than the faces attached above.

Edna Thurlow’s daughter, Tessie, and grandson, Sonny, stood apart, appeared to have little to say to each other, looked like they’d rather be home in bed. Charlie didn’t recognize most of the people in between. Until she saw Edward Cement-Mixer Esterhazie, a glass in both hands, leaning over tiny Cyndi Seagal’s no-longer tiny cleavage. They stood just inside the door, and Cyndi was doing her sexually vulnerable gig.

Sorry Dorothy, but Oz will never be the same.

Dr. Evan Podhurst was here.

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