He met Carpenter for lunch to discuss the P.I.’s failure to locate his missing secretary.
“You’re not helping much,” Carpenter had groused. He was a big beefy man, an ex-cop, who peppered his conversation with police terms. “You give me nuthin’ but a perp’s name and a common one at that, and you expect miracles.”
“She’s not a perp,” Edward reminded him.
He shrugged. “Yeah, whatever. What I really need is her Social. Then I can work some magic.”
“I’ve tried to get it, but Mrs. Dowd guards those personnel files like Cerberus.”
“Who?”
“The three-headed dog that guards the gates of hell.”
“Oh, right.” He gave Edward a piercing look. “You try going around her?”
“What?”
“You know, sneaking in and taking a peek? It’s not as if you’re going to sell Social Security numbers to the Russians or sumthin’.”
Edward grimaced. “I can’t do that—it’s illegal.”
“Well, duh. But we’ve tried to do it the right way—which, as an ex-cop, I fully supported, you know. But by now, we’re gonna have to admit defeat or try to be more creative in our thinkin’.”
“More creative, huh? Is that what you’d call it?”
“No one would have to know. It’s not like we’re breaking into Watergate or anything. We won’t get caught.”
Edward sat up. “Really?” He shook his head. “But she keeps her office—and her filing cabinet—locked. How can we get in?”
“Man, you’re such a straight arrow.” He laughed. “Now, you didn’t hear this from me, me being an upstanding citizen and all, but there are ways of getting into a locked office without leaving a trace.”
“You mean, like picking the lock?” He had no idea how to do that.
“Duh. Takes a few seconds. In, out, bing-bam-boom.”
“You expect me to do that?”
Carpenter smiled. “Well, for a small additional fee, I might be willing to help you...”
They met at Edward’s office at seven-thirty. The janitors had come and gone and they had the floor to themselves. It had been absurdly easy. Carpenter brought a ring of keys with him. He found the brand name key that matched the lock and slipped it into the hole. Holding a small rubber-coated hammer in one hand and the key with the other, he tapped the key and twisted it at the same time. It took two tries, then the door unlocked.
“How did you do that?”
“Bump key,” he said.
That meant nothing to Edward and Carpenter didn’t seem willing to explain further. They entered the office and went to the filing cabinet. It was locked, as expected.
“Never fear,” Carpenter said. He went to Mrs. Dowd’s desk and began opening drawers. She had left her lap drawer unlocked and he quickly found a silver key with an unmarked tag on it. He held it up. “Let’s try this one, shall we?”
It unlocked the cabinet at once.
“Shit,” Edward marveled. “Why didn’t we do this two months ago?”
Carpenter shrugged. “You had scruples, remember?”
Edward stepped back as Carpenter rooted through the files. He soon found Emily’s W-2 form and jotted down her personal information. He closed and relocked the cabinet and returned the key to the drawer. Carpenter showed Edward the data he had written down.
“Piece of cake,” he said.
Carpenter called the next day. “Your girl turned up in Kansas City. Hey, that’s a song, isn’t it?” He began singing: “Going to Kansas City, Kansas City here I come...”
“Okay, okay. Where in Kansas City?”
Carpenter read off an address. “Apparently, she’s got herself another job, too.” He read off another address.
Edward’s heart sank. “All right, thanks.”
It was three-hundred-fifty miles from St. Louis to Kansas City. Edward called in sick on a Friday and hit the interstate. He arrived mid-afternoon and drove directly to Emily’s work address. He couldn’t very well just show up in front of all those people. He would have to get her alone somehow. He consulted his map and found the address of her apartment. He got lost a couple of times before he spotted the apartment complex that Carpenter had told him about. It wasn’t much— another aging unimaginative structure just like the one she had lived in before. He parked in the lot on the same side of the building where Emily’s new apartment was and waited.
At five-thirty, Edward recognized her car as she pulled in. She parked and walked with her head down toward her building. His heart leapt just to see her. What had happened to her in these last two months? Who had she met? What did she think about me? Does she hate me?
He couldn’t believe it, but he was really here. Now comes the hard part, he thought.
He waited a few minutes to give her time to unwind and headed upstairs. He was very nervous, which wasn’t Dom-like at all, but it was real. He’d been a jerk and an idiot, putting her in danger like that. He wondered if the janitors had been telling the truth when they said they only demanded blowjobs from his sub.
His sub, he thought. I have no right to think of her as mine now. Be careful.
He stood outside her apartment door and took a deep breath. He knocked and waited. The door opened a crack and Emily’s lovely face peered out. When she saw him, her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open.
“Please let me in,” he said gently. “I’d like to talk to you.”
She shook her head and tears fell from her eyes but she didn’t slam the door in his face. He didn’t try to force his way in, he just waited. After a few seconds, she opened the door and stepped back.
He went in past her and stood in the living room. He found a handkerchief in his pocket and passed it over to Emily, who daubed at her face.
“How-how did you find me?”
“I hired a private detective,” he said.
“F-f-for me? Why?”
“I came to apologize. What I did was very wrong. It was stupid. You were in real danger and I shouldn’t have done it. I forgot about the janitors. I returned about a half-hour after you left, and realized my mistake. I’ve been looking for you ever since.”
She nodded and sat down on the couch and put her head in her hands. Edward came to her but feared touching her might send the wrong message. So he squatted down next to her and said softly, “I’m sorry. I know you must’ve been terrified, especially when that janitor came in to empty the trash.” He hoped to draw her out so he could understand what truly happened that day.
Emily nodded, her face buried in the handkerchief. “I-I was scared. And m-mad at you,” she said between sobs. “You said you’d be right back with my clothes!”
“I know.” He bit his lip. “Look, I was enjoying myself a little too much. And you paid the price. It was a stupid thing to do and I’m very sorry it happened.”
She nodded. Finally, she looked up at him. “I was so scared,” she repeated.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
She shook her head quickly, back and forth. Edward didn’t press. She would tell him in time—or not at all. He could only hope she might someday forgive him.
“All right,” he said, trying to change the subject. “So you up and moved to Kansas City. Why here?”
“I have family here.”
Edward looked around, wondering: So why is she living in this crappy apartment? She seemed to read his mind.
“My mother’s remarried and I didn’t want to impose on them, so I got my own place.”
He nodded. “I hear you have a new job. How’s that working out?”
Emily shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m a secretary for another manufacturer.”
“Is your boss nice?”
She wiggled her hand in the air. “He’s okay. It’s kinda boring, actually.”