Chapter 19: Lying Low

I DIDN’T LIKE what I saw at brunch Sunday morning and hustled myself back to my room. It looks like the Committee is meeting. Stan Metzger of the PNW Publishing Group walked in beside René Fortier, the founder of one of the largest Internet services groups in the country. I was shocked to see the CEO of Allied Cellular with them.

Personal Assistant

I ran to my room and called Cinnamon. I’d had to buy an International SIM when I landed, so, of course, she had no idea who was calling. She still answered on first ring, sounding a little panicked.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“It’s me, Deb. Are you okay?”

“Oh, thank God! I’ve been so worried,” she said. “Where are you?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been really lucky. How are you?”

“Seattle is a mess. Downtown is fine and so is your apartment. Parts of town are still without power and the East Side is a virtual blackout. According to the news there are still 700,000 customers without power.”

“Good Lord! I need you to go down and check my office.”

“I did. Am. I’m there now. I’m sorry, Deb. It’s a real mess.”

“Still no power?”

“Oh, you’ve got power, all right,” she answered, “but the place has been ransacked. When I say a mess, I mean everything is torn up. Someone came in and vandalized it during the storm. A window was broken and there’s water damage. I got a glass company to come in and do an emergency repair on the window this morning.”

“You’re terrific, Cinnamon. Please be sure Maizie’s bed is cleaned up. I don’t want the poor girl to lie on any glass.”

“Deb? There’s no glass in the room. The window was broken from inside. I was only in here once, after Dag’s memorial, but I’m sure there’s a chair missing. It’s probably in the Sound.”

“I need you to give me a verbal survey of the room,” I said, panic just at bay. “Stand in the middle of the office and start facing the window. Describe the damage as you turn to you left.”

“Sure. The window has been repaired. The sofa is hacked to ribbons, cushions on the floor. Maizie’s bed is pretty much shredded. There’s an overturned pedestal table with a vase broken on the floor. Then, through the door to the outer office...”

“Wait,” I said. “What about the television mounted on the wall.”

“There’s no television. Oh, I see. There’s a wire cut off and hanging out of the wall. It looks like they took the screen. Sorry.”

“Okay,” I answered. “You’re at the door into the office. Continue.” I held my breath.

“The outer office is in the same condition. Desk drawers have been pulled out and emptied. The file cabinet is trashed. I can see through the bathroom door that the shelves have been torn out of the medicine cabinet. Back in this room, desk drawers are lying on the floor with contents dumped out. Books have all been stripped of the shelves. The desk is turned on edge. There’s another pedestal table near the wall and a painting has been slashed open and torn off the wall. The curtains were pulled down from the windows. A recliner chair, also cut to shreds. I’m sure there was another chair near the window that isn’t here. And the coffee table is upside down. I’m sorry, Deb. It’s really a mess. I got the window replaced but have just been taking pictures of everything else so you can file an insurance claim. Do you want me to call the police? I don’t have anything that would tell them I work for you and I couldn’t get hold of you when I tried earlier.”

I breathed. Cinnamon couldn’t have missed another room behind the desk with shelves for computer servers. The vault was still secure.

“It sounds like I’m going to have to pretty much start over.” A tear was leaking out of my eye. Everything that was Dag’s was destroyed. Even Maizie’s bed. “I’ll need you to call Jordan Grant. He’ll come over to investigate. Thank you for getting the window repaired.”

“Wait till you see the bill.”

“I’ll bet they gouged me on that one,” I said. “I’m going to want to go through everything that’s left both to reclaim our files and to see if I can identify anything missing. I guess you don’t need to come back to the office.”

“I’ll make sure everything is kept for you, Deb,” Cinnamon said softly. “But I’m not going to let you come back to this mess. Is there anything here you especially don’t want me to look at? I’ll try not to be nosy while I’m cleaning.”

“Really, Cinnamon. You don’t have to do that.”

“You hired me, remember?”

“Yeah. Are you sure you want to work for me? It can get kind of dangerous.”

“Pharmaceuticals were getting kind of boring,” she said. “I sent in my resignation Friday.”

“Cinnamon, did your boss know you were there Thursday night?”

“No. I wasn’t supposed to be there. I hid out until I thought it was safe to come and see you. The girls aren’t supposed to be at a party with a group they work with. You know what I mean? It’s something about a law called ‘quid pro quo.’ Responsibilities as a hostess in the Condo never cross with your responsibilities in your day job.”

“But your CEO was there Thursday night,” I said. “Can you tell me anything about him?”

“Mostly, he’s a really nice man. I never even met him the first year I was with Bio-Research. He sent me a congratulations letter when I got promoted to Senior Marketing Manager. That’s what bugs, me Deb. The members of the Committee all seem like really nice guys. I don’t know all of them, but the one’s I’ve met have been the least likely to, you know, want to have sex with you on the sofa. They all have their minds somewhere else.”

“Yeah. On money,” I said absently. That might mean I won’t have as much trouble with Mr. Rentz as I was afraid. “Tell me about Mr. Reinholdt’s family.”

“He has a nice wife who looks like she came out of a Pillsbury cookbook, if you know what I mean,” she giggled. “I think three grown children. That’s really all the personal information I know about him.”