Hotshot (Buchanan-Renard #11)

Hotshot (Buchanan-Renard #11) Page 7

Mimi nodded. “Miriam was sick a long time, and he was always at her side. I think the worry wore him out. Both he and his son were very close to her. Erik took a semester off from college to be with his mother in those final weeks, but Eileen . . . well, she didn’t have much use for her mother once she took ill. Eileen is what you would call . . .”

“A very self-involved woman,” Lars supplied.

“I was going to say bitch,” Mimi said. “She’s a real bitch.”

Peyton laughed. Lars looked shocked.

“How do you know so much about the family?” Peyton asked.

Mimi shrugged. “I listen. Being an assistant gives me a lot of time to do nothing but listen. I’m sort of invisible now. People gossip and they don’t seem to notice I’m standing right next to them. When you’ve been demoted the way I have, I guess they figure I’m nobody. I certainly can’t do them any damage. Who would listen to me? Working as an accountant, I never had time to gossip. These days I’m ashamed to admit gossip is the highlight of my days. That and chocolate.” She shook her head. “I really have to get out of here.” Turning to Lars, she said, “That job at the Quickie Market is looking better and better, except I can’t live on minimum wage. No one can.” She scooted off the desk. “Come on, both of you. I’ll make tacos at my place.”

Peyton hated going outside, especially in the evening. No matter how many layers she wore, she still froze. The temperature had already dropped well below zero, and the wind chill was so brutal it made her bones feel brittle. The heater in her car didn’t start blowing warm air until she was pulling up to Mimi’s apartment building. Peyton felt as though her toes needed to be defrosted. She didn’t think she was ever going to get used to this kind of arctic cold.

An hour later she and Lars and Mimi were sitting around a small coffee table in the tiny one-bedroom apartment, coming up with one outrageous plan after another to take Drew down a notch. Mimi and Lars drank beer, but Peyton, still chilled, sipped hot tea.

“I can’t stay here,” Peyton said. “I’m going to quit, but I wish there was a way to let Randolph Swift and his son know what Drew has been doing. Tell me more about Randolph.”

“He’s a good man,” Mimi said. “And he’s kind. He built this community. I know the area looks bleak and dreary now, but when it thaws, it’s a pretty place to live. Randolph cares about his employees.”

Mimi took a drink of her beer and tilted the bottle toward Peyton. “If he ever comes back, you wouldn’t be able to get to him. There’s no way you’ll get past that gargoyle, Eileen.”

Lars choked on his drink. “Gargoyle? I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Eventually Randolph will find out what Drew’s doing,” Peyton said. “Someone will tell him. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I agree, and I’m sure Eileen realizes it, too. But if Randolph retires, and Drew takes charge, it will be easier to handle the women who try to make trouble. Drew might be able to get away with his sick behavior for several more years.”

“Someone needs to stop him,” Peyton countered.

And get proof to take to Randolph Swift, she thought. But how?

She had time to think about it because Drew was traveling with Eileen on what he called a buying trip and was going to be away from the office for ten days. Surely, in that time Peyton could think of something brilliant to do that would trap the letch. And if it didn’t work out, at least she’d know she had tried.

It became routine to go to Mimi’s apartment after work with Lars. The three of them would take turns bringing in carryout or buying groceries to cook dinner. Mimi and Lars had become her confidants and her good friends. She was going to miss them when she left. She knew they were miserable and wished they could go with her, but what was the good in that? Then all three of them would be unemployed.

The office was quiet during the days Drew was gone, but they went by quickly. He was due back the following Monday.

Thursday night while Peyton was getting ready for bed, she came up with a plan of action. It was riddled with flaws, but she still thought she could pull it off. She had Friday to discuss it with Mimi and Lars, and the entire weekend to work out the details while she packed for her trip back to Texas. Monday, after meeting with Drew, she would get out of Dalton as fast as she could. Once she was finished wrecking his life, she doubted he would want her to give two weeks’ notice.

Drew surprised her by coming home early. He was back Friday morning. He was in a foul mood and stayed sequestered in his office most of the day. He didn’t want interruptions and, more important to Peyton, he left her alone. She was just closing up to go home when she heard him through the door snarling at someone over the phone. His anger was palpable. She could hear his heavy breathing as he berated whomever he was talking to, and then she heard a loud noise, as though he had just thrown something into the wall. Peyton looked around the office. It was empty. Everyone had just left and she was the only one there. Fear raced down her spine, and her instincts told her to get out of there as soon as possible. If anything happened, no one would hear her.

She had her coat on and was digging through her purse for her keys when he shouted her name. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she bolted out of the office and ran down the hall. She had just turned the corner when she heard him shout her name again. She didn’t respond and rushed up a flight of stairs to the garage entrance. Afraid that he might be coming after her, she didn’t go directly to her car but ran to the floor above, reasoning that if he didn’t see her, he would assume she was still inside working.

Was her fear unreasonable? A door opened, then slammed shut. She ducked down between two cars and waited. She felt foolish and told herself she was overreacting, but panic was edging in on her, and she couldn’t seem to control it.

Drew was a man who was used to getting whatever he wanted, but was he really capable of violence? How far would he go to get his way?

Later that night, she found out just how dangerous he was.

It was well past midnight. She was huddled under the covers and just drifting off to sleep when she heard a car zoom past, then screech to a stop and back up. She didn’t know what possessed her to get out of bed and peek out the window, but she thanked God she did, for there, backing into a parking spot, was Drew’s big SUV. The back tires were on the curb and the vehicle sat diagonally across the lines, taking up two parking spaces. She watched Drew get out, slam the door, and stagger across the lot. The harsh light from the lamppost cast an eerie glow on his scowl. He looked angry and determined, and he terrified her. She ran to drag a heavy chair over to the door and shoved it under the doorknob, then checked to make certain she had locked the deadbolt.

Suddenly he started beating on her door with his fists. Then, ramming his shoulder against it, he tried to break the lock. The door shook and she knew it was only a matter of seconds before he forced his way in. She raced to the phone to call the front desk.

“There’s a drunk man trying to break into my room,” she cried out. “Please call the police.”

The older teenager manning the desk said, “I’ll come help you.”

She didn’t know if he would also call the police, so she decided she’d better do it, but she was so rattled she dropped the phone and had to dive under the bed to get it.

“Let me in, Peyton. I’m going to make you feel real good, baby. Come on now. You know you want it. I’ll make you want it.”

Over and over he promised to make her feel good, but his voice was getting louder and angrier. Peyton frantically searched the room for something to use as a weapon. It was the old man in the room next to hers who inadvertently saved her. He opened his door and shouted a litany of curses, ending with the threat that he would call the police if Drew didn’t stop making a racket and leave.

“Go on, get out of here. I’ll call the cops on you. Go on before they arrest you.”

The pounding on the door stopped, and she heard Drew threaten the old man. Then she heard the young clerk asking if everything was all right. Drew started muttering, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. A minute later, she heard his car motor racing as he peeled out of the parking lot.

“He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone.” She must have whispered those words a hundred times while she sat on the floor in the tiny bathroom. Her back was pressed against the bathtub, and her feet were pushing against the door so that no one could come inside. He was gone, and she was safe now. The enormity of what had almost happened hit, and she folded her knees under her chin and wrapped her arms around them, rocking back and forth as she began to sob.

She didn’t sleep at all that night. She stayed locked in the bathroom until the sun came up, then she packed a bag and drove to Mimi’s. Her friend liked to sleep in on weekends, and it wasn’t even eight o’clock when Peyton knocked on her door. Mimi didn’t complain. She took one look at Peyton and knew something terrible had happened.

After Peyton told her everything, Mimi was horrified. “If he had gotten in . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut, took a breath, and said, “He would have raped you. My God, I knew he was a womanizer, but this . . . You should go to the police. I’ll get dressed and go with you. You should file a report.”

“And what do I tell them? That a man I’m afraid of banged on my door late at night and wanted to come inside. He didn’t break any laws. He made a lot of noise; he was told to go away, and he left.”

“It’s not right. It’s just not right.” Mimi sounded as though she was going to cry. She put her arm around Peyton and led her to the bedroom. “Come on. You need to sleep. When you’re clearheaded we’ll figure out what to do.”

“It’s okay,” Peyton said. “I’m going to stop him. I know what to do.”

Afraid that Drew might come back to the motel, she stayed with Mimi all weekend, and on Sunday night she returned to pack up her things. By Monday morning, her car was loaded and ready to go. And so was she.

Drew didn’t come into the office until eleven, and Peyton grew more and more anxious, wondering what his demeanor would be when he saw her. Would he show any remorse for what he had done? Or would he ignore it? She was just checking the time on her watch when she heard the elevator doors open. She looked up and saw him head to the receptionist and greet her with a wide grin. After a few friendly words with her, he walked over to Peyton’s cubicle and cheerfully said good morning, then proceeded to his office. Peyton wasn’t really shocked by his behavior. In fact, she rather suspected Drew would be his usual smarmy self, and she was glad he was exactly that because it played into her plan.

With all the sweetness she could muster, she got up from her desk, knocked on his door, and asked him if she could have a moment of his time. Responding to her smile, he quickly agreed. He even pulled out a chair facing his massive desk for her.

She waited until he had taken his seat, then leaned forward and placed a digital recorder in the center of his desk.

“Do you mind if I record our conversation?”

He raised an eyebrow. Then he laughed. “Sure, go ahead.”

He leaned over the desk, pulled the recorder closer to him, and said, “I’ll even turn it on for you.” He pushed a button, sat back, and casually asked, “Have you decided to warm up yet?”

Instead of answering the question, she asked, “Aren’t you curious to know why I’m recording this conversation?”

“Not really,” he replied. “Now answer me. Are you going to warm up? Don’t you feel the electricity flowing between us? You want me as much as I want you.”

The man was certifiable.

“No, I don’t feel any electricity. What I want is for you to leave me alone.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he told her, smiling.

“We are not going to have a physical relationship, and as far as traveling with you, that’s out of the question. I don’t feel safe with you.”

He shrugged. “I’m your boss. If I say you go with me, then you go with me.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of sexual harassment?”

“That doesn’t mean anything here. And you will travel with me.”

“No.” She didn’t expound.

“No?” The smile was gone.

“That’s right, no,” she repeated calmly.

“You have a choice, Peyton. Either play ball with me or get fired. Don’t even think about asking for a transfer. I won’t let that happen, and I’m the one with all the power, not you.”

“What exactly does play ball with you mean?” She wanted to get it on the record.

“You know. Spread your legs for me. Whenever I want and as often as I want.”

She wanted to gag. She tried not to react.

Despite her efforts, her disgust must have shown because Drew looked displeased with her response. He leaned forward, frowning, and said, “Don’t look so shocked. I’ll make you like it. If I have to force you, I will. I always get my way.”

“Doesn’t your wife—”

He interrupted. “Is that it?” His voice softened and his frown eased. He looked earnest now. “You’re worried about my wife finding out? Eileen knows I like a little action on the side. She understands. It spices up our sex life, so she helps me get what I want, what I need. It’s a win-win.”

“What about Randolph Swift?”

“My father-in-law? What about him? He can get his own action,” he said with a chuckle. “The way he mopes around since his wife died is pretty pathetic. I doubt he can even get it up anymore.” He settled back in his big leather swivel chair and began to rock side to side, looking very smug. “Why he’d mourn after that old bat, I’ll never know. She was nothing but a bag of bones the last couple of years. You’d think he’d be glad to be rid of her.”

She didn’t want him to see how sickened she was, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her emotions inside. He was such a slimeball. “I was told the reputation of the company is very important to him. If he were to find out what you were doing . . . if there were a lawsuit . . .”

“He won’t find out,” he said confidently. “Eileen manages him.”

“I don’t understand. How does she manage him?”

“She makes sure he doesn’t hear anything negative about me. Eileen and I are progressive in our thinking, but Randolph is stuck in the past. He needs to go. So does that loser son of his. Once I get hold of this place, things will be different.”