Page 51
Story: The Lemon Drop Kid
Brigid nodded approvingly. “That’s the bare bones of it. It was more sophisticated than simply turning in different paperwork, but when you boil it down, yes.”
“I remember Tom complaining about it that last week. He didn’t elaborate, but since he never wanted me included in the loop, I didn’t think much about it.”
Brigid said to Raleigh, “As you can imagine, once Tom and Casper were gone, we lost a lot of oversight. Astrid refused to replace Tom because she said the VP position would be Casper’s once he was exonerated.” She met my eyes. “I think that was her way of reassuring herself that you were coming back.”
My throat closed. I nodded.
“But we did need that extra aegis. Astrid was, understandably, distracted this past year. It was a-a difficult year for her. Not as difficult as it was for you, of course.” Her smile was sympathetic.
Raleigh said, “What happened when you went to Astrid with your suspicions?”
“Obviously, it was a delicate situation,” Brigid said. “She was my boss. Malcolm was her husband. In the end, I didn’t need to spell it out. She understood immediately and said she would deal with it.”
I made a pained sound—it just slipped out.
Brigid reached across the table to cover my hand. “I’m so sorry, Casper.”
Raleigh was as still and silent as a block of stone beside me.
Brigid said, “Once I understood what was at stake, how much money was involved, I realized that Malcolm was almost certainly involved in Tom’s death.” She said to me, “I want you to know, Casper, not for one instant did I believe you hadanythingto do with that. I didn’t want to think it wasanyone of us. I was sure it had to be an outsider. That someone had gained access to the universal code.”
I nodded.
“But once I understood that Malcolm was embezzling from the company, I knew he had to be the one who killed Tom. Even then, it was so hard to believe. Astrid and I didn’t even mention that aspect of it when we spoke that evening. But we knew what the other was thinking.”
Raleigh said unemotionally, “Do you have physical evidence of the embezzlement?”
“Yes. I have boxes of evidence sitting in my garage. I removed as many files from the office as I safely could without arousing suspicion. That was after Astrid…”
I said, “Thank you for that.”
“Ofcourse.”
The overhead lights flashed twice. The bartender called, “Closing time, folks. Drive safely. See you tomorrow night.”
The diehard patrons still scattered around the room began to shuffle toward the door.
Brigid hastily gathered her purse and coat. “My gosh, it’s so late! My husband will be wondering what happened to me.”
I said to Raleigh, “Will give you give me a ride home?”
I had sort of taken it for granted, but he was sitting there silent and unmoving, as if he’d forgotten where he was.
He looked at me—it was a long, strange look—and then he slid out of the booth. “Yes. Of course.” He did not sound thrilled at the prospect.
What the hell? My gaze fell on the rolled newspaper sticking out of his jacket pocket, and abruptly, I knew exactly what the hell it was.
My heart plummeted about fifty feet.
Well, I’d known it was coming. I’d intended to give him a heads up when he dropped by that evening. I hadn’t said anything I didn’t believe to be the truth during that interview. All the same, I knew that, had I been interviewed that morning instead of Friday, I’d have tempered my answers, at least as far as Raleigh was concerned.
The jukebox was still playing as we walked out of the bar into the frigid night.
…holiday greetings and gay happy meetings…
Not so much, as it turned out.
The three of us crossed the parking lot together. I kissed Brigid goodnight. We watched her start her car and pull out onto the highway, and then Raleigh and I walked in silence to his SUV.
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