“Well, would you? Leave me?”
The server picked himself up, made a point of looking the other way, and continued toward the restroom.
“I should.”
“Don’t.”
She slid out of the booth and stood up. “I won’t.”
I let out the breath that I’d been holding.
“But this stays at Synco Systems, right?”
“It does.” My cell phone rang, “Born in the U.S.A.” blaring from the little black box.
“Hello.”
“Skip Moore?”
I couldn’t place the voice, and I didn’t recognize the phone number.
“Yes?”
“You represent the company that is installing a security system at Synco Systems?”
“I do.” I smiled. I was the point man for big jobs.
“And you’re dating Sarah Crumbly?”
I glanced up at Em, standing there, waiting for me to come out of the yellow vinyl booth and walk her to her car.
“Well-”
“I need to talk to you. As soon as possible.”
The female on the other end sounded very businesslike.
“And you are?”
She hesitated. “I’m Carol Conroy. My husband is Sandler Conroy, president of Synco Systems, and I think you need to know some things about the death of Ralph Walters.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“M onte Carlo. Have you ever been there?”
I hadn’t been out of the state of Florida. Travel had been pretty much out of the question. My mother didn’t have any money and neither did I. I dreamed about traveling, and I knew where Monte Carlo was. I saw it on a Discovery Channel show one day.
Sarah looked into my eyes, and I felt a cold shiver. I looked away. I kept repeating to myself, hooker. She’s a hooker.
“I won like two thousand euros in the Casino. It was so cool. I mean, much more class than Vegas, you know?”
I had no clue.
“It’s this beautiful old building with ornate chandeliers and thick carpet. And just like in that James Bond movie, Casino Royal, guys wear suits and tuxedos and a lot of the women have formal dresses.” There was a faraway look in her eyes. “Sandy promised me we’d go back once this project is done.”
Casino Royal was filmed on Paradise Island in the Bahamas. But I didn’t tell her that. And, as far as ever going to Monte Carlo, or the Bahamas for that matter, well, I couldn’t even imagine.
“And Cannes, Skip. Sparkling blue waters, quaint stucco buildings with orange tile roofs that descend like stair steps down to the ocean. During the film festival. Oh, my God, I met Adrian Grenier from Entourage, and we saw Angelina and Brad, and Daniel Craig. And, Skip,” her eyes got big, “we sat front row to see U2, and then went backstage. I mean-”
It was almost more than I wanted to hear. Em had never done half of those things, and she could afford them.
“I met Bono. Bono, Skip. He kissed my hand.”
Now it was getting tiresome.
“And Sandy leased a yacht that went on forever. I don’t know how big it was, but you could sunbathe totally nude on the deck and nobody batted an eye.”
What? I would bat an eye. Among other things. Who talked like this? Who experienced this kind of lifestyle?
I cleared my throat. “You did?”
She flashed me a shy smile. “Uh-huh.”
I tried to picture that.
“Honest to God, Skip, I never thought I’d do anything like that. And then he asked if I’d like to work here at Synco Systems. Well, you can imagine it would have been very hard to say no.”
Duh. We were sipping coffee in the break room. I’d taken Jim Jobs through the building, and, surprisingly, he’d understood everything. He’d even made some suggestions regarding placement of some of our hardware. He’d left in what James affectionately called the Jim Jobs mobile. Now, Sarah and I were talking. Our first “date,” and I kept thinking how happy Em would be.
“Have you ever met Carol?”
I didn’t know what to say. I had an appointment with Sandler’s wife in a couple of hours, but I didn’t feel it was a good idea to tell Sandler’s girlfriend. And I wasn’t about to tell my girlfriend. The whole thing was so sordid.
“No.”
“I have. Several times. I was invited to a cocktail party at their house just last week.”
“You visited their house?”
“She’s a bitch.”
“He told you that.”
“She’s with him for status. That’s all. And I think she keeps an eye on Sandy for her daddy.”
And Sarah was with Sandler for the money.
“Anyway, it will soon be over. Once Sandy gets the money, he’s promised me we’re out of here.”
She was a year younger than James, Em, and me. And her financial future seemed to be set. Maybe James had been right. If I’d been born a good-looking blonde girl, I might have sold my body and my soul to be in her shoes. Then again, maybe not.
“By the way, can you park your car in front of my condo tonight?”
“Sure.” James was going to pick me up and drive me back to our dingy apartment.
“Sandy seems to think his wife is suspicious of me.”
Suspicious? From what Sarah had told me, Carol Conroy could have enough evidence to kick Sandler out for good.
She slowly stood up, letting me admire her figure in a short red dress that pulled tight at her chest. “God, I hope he gets his paycheck soon.”
I hoped I got mine soon. What had started out to be a really good opportunity was fast becoming a nightmare.
“Then, I’ll see you tonight.” She paused for a moment. “Well, I’ll see your car. She gave me that soft smile. Sarah reached down and touched my hand giving it a gentle squeeze.
“One more thing.” I hesitated. I hated this part of the sale, especially when I knew the client. “The contract calls for fifty percent up front and-”
“Skip. Are you afraid you won’t get paid?” She let go of my hand and gave me a quizzical look.
“No, no. But Michael, the boss, plays by the rules.” I figured if they didn’t pay half up front Michael would still authorize the installation. There was no way he was going to lose a sale this big.
“I’ll get you the check before you start the job. Which,” she looked at her gold Rolex watch, “should be in two days. Right?”
I nodded.
“We’re anxious to get started on a new project, Skip, and I know that Sandy wants the security system functional before we go into production.”
“You never did tell me what this big project is.”
Sarah put an index finger to her lips. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone. I’m not even supposed to know.”
All kinds of secrets going on at Synco Systems.
“But it has something to do with the Department of Defense. I’m pretty sure that’s who it is. Pretty sure.”
“The federal government?” I pushed my chair back and stood up. The top of her golden head barely reached my shoulder.
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“No.”
“They’re putting in a new computer network program and we’ve come up with a system that is fool proof. Ralph,” she hesitated, a catch in her voice, “Ralph told me just yesterday, that there was no way anyone could hack this system.”
I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that our job involved the Department of Defense. I wasn’t supposed to mention the fact that I was Sarah’s pretend boyfriend, and I certainly couldn’t tell Sarah that I knew she was a prostitute. And, oh yeah, I wasn’t going to tell anyone that Carol Conroy wanted to talk to me about Ralph Walters’s suicide. And I was this guy who wasn’t any good at keeping secrets.
CHAPTER NINE
T he Red Derby was a tiny bar that was crammed into a little stucco strip of four buildings on Biscayne Bay Boulevard. The lounge sported a neon red derby hat that flashed outside the door, and I wondered how a bar like this got its name. Did the owner wear a red derby? Did anyone wear a red derby? I’d never even seen anybody wear a derby in my entire life.