Chapter Ten

 

 

Two days later, while Joe was off with another client, Bellamy went into the office and was surprised to see Anderson at his desk. Well, nice he’d decided to come to work. She looked at him and, without breaking her stride, said, “Paul, my office. Now.”

Now was as good a time as any to find out if he had anything to do with the shooting two days before. They had no proof. They pretty much had nothing, as a matter of fact. No fingerprints, and the bullets and shell casings found at the scene could have been purchased almost anywhere, from an independent gun shop to a big box store. All she could hope for was to rattle him into confessing.

Bellamy put her purse in a drawer in her desk, then picked up the phone and dialed Ian. When he answered, she said, “Paul’s here. I’m getting ready to talk to him. Do you want to be part of that?”

“Absolutely,” came the immediate response. “I’ll be there in just a minute.”

Bellamy replaced the receiver in the cradle and looked up as Anderson walked in. “Have a seat,” she said quietly.

For once, hubris and belligerence wasn’t rolling off Anderson. He seemed almost…scared. Nervous, certainly.

She sat behind her desk and looked at him, not saying anything for a few moments. She’d been trained, and found it to be true, that many people didn’t know what to do with silence. They felt the need to fill it, whether with words or activity. Anderson did the latter. He rubbed his palms on his thighs and cleared his throat, glancing around the room, not making eye contact with her.

Ian walked into the room, and Anderson popped up from his chair. Ian motioned him to sit and closed the office door. Ian walked over to the other chair, grabbed it and pulled it over to the side of Bellamy’s desk and sat down.

Bellamy took one more moment then, in a steady and quiet voice, said, “Now, then. Where were you on Monday?”

“I told you, I had a family emergency,” he said, his voice tight and higher than normal. “It’s personal.”

“Uh-huh.” She drew in a breath. “But you did come into work. What time did you leave for this family emergency?” She fought the urge to use air quotes.

“Around ten.”

Right around the time someone was taking pot shots at her. She didn’t buy it. Narrowing her eyes, she asked “And you had to deal with this personal emergency, the one you told me wasn’t too serious, yesterday as well?”

“Yes.” He crossed his legs, balancing one ankle on the opposite knee, and started bouncing the foot that was on the floor.

He seemed awfully nervous for someone who was trying to come across as innocent. She traded glances with Ian and pushed on as she looked at Anderson again. “What if I were to tell you that the police are at your house right now with a search warrant?”

Anderson’s cheeks went white. He surged to his feet. “What?”

Ian straightened but remained seated. “Sit down, Paul.”

Anderson looked at him and slowly parked his ass in the chair again. His gaze darted from Ian to Bellamy and back again to Ian. “W-why would the cops be at my house?” Belligerence started to rise. “What has she been telling you about me? I haven’t done anything.”

Ian’s brows climbed, but his even words didn’t reflect his surprise at the blatant lie. “You mean besides being insubordinate every chance you got, even going so far as to try to sabotage her efforts?” Anderson opened his mouth to respond but Ian slashed a hand through the air. “Never mind that. We’re not here to discuss how Bellamy was far more patient about your behavior than I ever meant her to be. Now, you need to direct your responses to your boss,” he instructed. “I’m here as a witness and to offer support to her.”

Anderson seemed to wilt. He stared down at the hands he twisted in his lap. “I only meant to scare her,” he muttered.

It was Bellamy’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “What was that?”

He looked up and briefly met her eyes before his gaze skittered away. “I only meant to scare you. I thought, with the timing, everyone would just assume it was the stalker. I figured if you quit, Ian would finally put me in the Director position.”

“I’m going to be blunt here, Paul. That never would have happened.” Ian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Mainly because of the way you’ve acted since I put Bellamy in that job. Paul, you don’t have twenty-five years’ experience with us. You have five years repeated five times. Bellamy might be younger than you, but with her police training, she’s more qualified. And if you’d been willing to take an objective look at this, you’d have seen that. You could have learned a lot from her, but all you’ve done is obstruct her at every turn.”

“But I—”

“No.” Ian shook his head.

Bellamy quietly let out the breath she’d been holding. “Paul, I think you’ll have to agree that someone who thinks it’s a good idea to shoot at a rival isn’t fit to be the chief of security. Wouldn’t you say?”

He mumbled, “Yeah,” and slumped in the chair.

Bellamy picked up the phone and dialed Detective Rivera’s cell phone. When he answered, she said, “Paul Anderson, my assistant director, is the one who shot at me the day before yesterday.”

“Can you hold him there?”

She heard the jangle of keys. “Absolutely,” she told him. “I’ll sit on him if I have to,” she added, giving Anderson the glare she’d been wanting to let loose from the start.

“All right. I’m headed to my car now. Give me fifteen.”

“Sure thing,” she answered. When there was no response, she pulled the phone away from her ear to see the call had ended. She glanced over at Ian and said, “Why can’t men say goodbye when they’re done with a call? It’s not like cell phones give you a dial tone so you know.”

He shrugged.

Right. Not important at the overall scheme of things. She looked again at Anderson. “Detective Rivera will be here in about fifteen minutes. Make yourself comfortable.”

Anderson’s shoulders drooped. Nostrils flared. Eyes went liquid.

Dear fluffy lord. The man was going to…

Fat tears started rolling down his cheeks right before he buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry!” His shoulders shook as his wails got louder.

Bellamy tried not to feel pity and failed. She put herself in his shoes and knew she’d have been livid if she’d been loyal to a company and had been passed over for a promotion she believed should have gone to her. But by no stretch of the imagination could she ever believe she would pull out a gun and shoot at someone. So, in the end, he deserved what he was feeling.

Within half an hour, Rivera arrived and carted Anderson off. That was one problem solved.

~ * ~

After lunch, Bellamy returned to her office and found a sealed envelope on her desk. Her name was handwritten on the front. She slipped the tip of her letter opener under the flap and slit open the envelope. She pulled out the folded paper and opened it, taking care to handle the paper as little as possible, just in case it was another note from the stalker.

And it was. This one read simply: You’re next.

She swallowed and crossed her arms, tucking suddenly cold fingers in her armpits. “Laura!” she called.

Her assistant walked into her office, a questioning look on her face.

“Did you put this on my desk?” Bellamy asked, pointing to the letter.

Laura shook her head. “I haven’t put anything on your desk today.” She walked closer and leaned in to look at the letter. She paled and jerked upright, her horrified gaze on Bellamy. “You think that I would—”

“No! God, no.” Bellamy pulled Laura to her side with a one-armed hug. “There’s no way you’re involved in all of this. That thought never crossed my mind. I was just wondering if someone gave it to you and asked you to pass it on to me. That’s all.”

The other woman mutely shook her head again.

Bellamy blew out a breath. Dropping her arm from Laura’s waist, she retrieved her cell phone from her purse. “I’m going to call Ian and Detective Rivera,” she said. “Would you please call Tyler and let him know?”

“What about Joe?”

Bellamy hesitated. She desperately wanted to call Joe, but she also wanted to do her damn job and take care of things like should would if he weren’t around. She shook her head, letting Laura know not to call him, and hit the speed dial button programed for Ian.

Once her calls were made, she sat down and stared at the letter. It didn’t make sense. Telling her that she was next implied someone else had already been hurt. To her knowledge, no one had.

So, was the stalker projecting her own sense of victory? Counting her chickens before they were hatched?

“Oh, hey there, Joe,” she heard Laura say loudly.

A murmur in his deep voice was his response, then he walked into her office. “Hey, babe,” he said, his expression open, his demeanor relaxed.

“Hey.” He would wonder why she hadn’t immediately called him. She decided to head him off at the pass. Grabbing a tissue from the box on the corner of her desk, she used it to pick up the letter by one corner and held it up. “I just got this,” she told him. “Or, rather, I walked in after lunch and found it on my desk.”

He walked around to her side and read the letter while she held it. She laid it back on the desk as he said, “Who’s been hurt?”

“No one, as far as I know.”

He stared down at the note. Abruptly he said, “How did things go with Anderson this morning?”

“Fine. It didn’t take long for him to confess.” She smiled. “I gave him the silent treatment, and he sang like a caged canary.”

“Good job.” He reached out and cupped the back of her neck, drawing her forward gently to place a kiss on her forehead. As he released her, he said, “Listen, I can’t stay. I have another job to deal with. But hopefully I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Okay.”

He gave her another kiss, this one a quick brush of lips against hers, then he was gone.

She blinked. That was weird. In and out when a phone call would’ve sufficed.

With a shrug she sat down and stared at the letter. If she was next, who was first? Who else flew in Keaton’s circle? Who would set off the stalker?

When it came to her, she stilled, breath caught in her throat, hands going cold and clammy. Gloria Alvarez, Daryl Keaton’s girlfriend. The short, chubby Latina the stalker had been so depreciating about in her earlier note.

Bellamy grabbed her purse and headed out. As she passed Laura’s desk, she commanded, “Find Daryl. I need Gloria’s address by the time I get out to my car.”

Her assistant popped to her feet. “What’s going on?”

Bellamy paused in the doorway to the outer office. “I think the stalker is going after Gloria. That’s why I’m ‘next’.” She gripped the strap of her purse. “Find Daryl and get me Gloria’s address,” she repeated and went on her way.

“Done. Be careful!” Laura called out.

Yeah. Riding the elevator to the ground floor, she called Detective Rivera to update him on what was happening. She got his voice mail and left a message, letting him know she was fairly certain Gloria was in danger and that she was headed over there right now.

She just hoped the stalker hadn’t already acted. She dreaded to think what she might find.