Chapter 3

Not knowing Peter Givens gave me no foundation to react to Dickie's statement. I couldn't really be shocked or saddened at the news, and it probably showed in voice. "And his death is somehow tied to... the rest of this?"

The words hit Dickie like a blow. His shoulders tensed, and he turned slowly to glare at me silently. Finally, he walked a few paces toward me, leaving the corner of the desk between us, pressing his legs against it as if it was the only thing keeping him from coming after me.

"Oh, yes, it has much to do with the rest of... 'this, '" he said, spreading his arms wide. Somehow, he seemed to grow with his anger. Even from a few paces away, he seemed to tower over me. "The police said there was no note, none of the standard signals to indicate the depths of depression that would usually lead suicide. It was as if he'd gotten home from a work, poured himself a glass of wine, and just decided at that moment to hang himself." He went to take a drink of the scotch he'd poured for himself, only to realize it was still sitting on the counter behind him. He didn't break eye contact, but it was obvious he was thinking about pausing and retracing his steps to retrieve the liquor. Instead, he just leaned forward and gripped the edge of the desk. His face looked a bit purple, and I worried for a moment that he might be on the edge of collapse. But he continued speaking without any sign of distress in his voice.

"Before Michael and I learned of Peter's death, he came to me and told me he had also changed his mind about letting Tonya go. He had to choke the words out, and his face made it obvious that he would much rather say anything else. I asked him over and over why he had changed his mind, but like some damn pull-string toy, all he would say was 'I've just changed my mind, that's all.' I even asked him if he'd slept with her, but he refused to answer to answer yes or no. I watched a man who had previously bragged about every woman he'd slept with simply shake his head, refusing to answer the question. But in his eyes was the look of a man who had much more that he wanted to say, but was being forced against his will to hold his tongue."

"No matter what I said, he was adamant that Tonya was staying. His change of heart, combined with Peter's stance the day before, made it two against one. Then..." his voice trailed from indignant to pained in a heartbeat, "... the police came round with the news that Peter had hung himself in his apartment." He took a deep breath, striving to keep his composure.

"Peter was a good man, a good listener, someone to whom you could always take a problem when you needed a ready ear and a few well-placed comments to get back on track. I always believed that he would have scaled the corporate ladder as far as he wanted to go. Yet, he was a decent enough fellow that you rooted for him to advance, to thrive. There was no reason in the world for him to kill himself... other than her."

Dickie finally did turn back to the counter, grabbing the scotch and downing it swiftly, without stopping. By the time he faced me again, his color had returned to normal, and his voice had regained some of its strength.

"With Peter gone, Michael and I were deadlocked over Tonya staying with the company. Unfortunately for her, a tie would not go in her favor. If I wanted her gone, she was out. While I couldn't understand how she had managed to manipulate my two colleagues into such a rapid change of heart, her ability to do so made me feel like a target. If she wanted to stay, she had to have my vote, and I didn't plan to give her the chance to do to me what she had done to Peter and Michael."