Still, she was self-disciplined enough to manage to do a good imitation of a lark when called for. Shed driven through Starbucks for a Venti cappuccino and had been sipping on it nonstop during her commute. A healthy dose of caffeine now coursed through her system; at least her eyelids no longer drooped.
She opened the parking garage door with her new magnetic key card and smiled at the security guard seated at a desk just inside the door. The guards name tag identified her as Letitia, and she wasnt exactly intimidating with her three-inch fingernails and an avalanche of springy curls pointing every which way. But Jillian tried not to judge by appearances.
Letitia looked at her quizzically, and Jillian showed her the badge on a lanyard looped around her neck.
My first day, she said.
The roly-poly guard looked her over, then decided to smile, revealing a row of crooked but bright white teeth in her round face. Yeah? What department?
Im an admin in Timber Operations.
Dont tell me youre reporting to Conner Blake?
Yes, thats right.
The smile turned to a dubious frown. Good luck, sister. Youll need it.
Jillian saw no reason not to start her undercover work on the spot. Letitia could be a good resource, seeing as she knew everyone and saw them coming and going to and from the building. He couldnt be that bad.
If youre still here by lunchtime, therell be a betting pool started. Everyone puts in a dollar and guesses the exact hour youll quit. I usually pick 10:00 a.m. the second dayso far, Im up twenty bucks.
Really. Was Letitia having a joke at Jillians expense? What if I stay?
You think youre made of pretty strong stuff?
Jillian thrust out her chin. Yes, I do. No one could be as bad as my old boss. Imagine the ruthlessness of Attila the Hun combined with the incompetence of Barney Fife. She hoped Daniel never got wind of that description. He wasnt at all incompetent, but he could be ruthless when he wanted something.
Letitia snorted, almost a laugh. Maybe your old boss was bad, but was he a murderer?
Jillians heart thudded so loudly she was sure Letitia could hear it. Excuse me?
I guess you havent heard about Greg Tynes.
Oh, the man who was killed. Yes, I did hear something about that. Jillian didnt want to appear terminally ignorant.
Letitia nodded. He worked in Mr. Blakes department. We all think Mr. Blake did it.
Why? Jillian didnt have to fake her horror. Shed known someone at Mayall Lumber might be a killer, but shed never imagined it might be her boss.
Mr. Blake is mean, thats why.
Does he have a temper? She couldnt recall Conner ever losing his temper, but he did have a devilish streak.
Not a temper. Its more likea darkness, Letitia said, warming to her topic. Theres a reason that man cant keep an assistant. They always just Letitia lowered her voice to a whisper disappear.
Dear Lord.
Letitia clapped a hand over her mouth. Now Ive gone and said way more than I should. Never mind me. Im sure you and Mr. Blake will work out just fine.
We will. They had to.
As Jillian rode the elevator up to the third floor, she congratulated herself. With a little idle chitchat, shed laid some groundwork for getting to know Letitia better, and shed picked up some juicy gossip.
But she was also treading on dangerous territory. Her job was to observe and report, not ask questions, not snoop. In fact, Daniel had told her to talk as little as possible, and to keep to the truth as much as she could. Shed memorized a few pertinent facts about her fictionalized work background, and she was not supposed to elaborate.
But how was she going to learn anything important if she didnt talk to people?
Just before stepping out of the elevator, she checked her appearance one more time. Following Celestes advice, shed altered her wardrobe to look more like a working girl. She wasnt chairman of the board, she was a secretary. Shed chosen a pair of wheat-colored linen trousers and a blouse in muted earth-tone stripes. Leaving all her good jewelry at home, shed opted for inexpensive costume pieces.
But she hadnt compromised with the shoes. She loved her high heels; they made her feel tall and invincible.
She was pleased to see she had beat Conner to work. His office was open and dark. Since no one was aboutand since she was feeling braveshe fished the small, black disk out of her purse and peeled off the backing to expose the adhesive surface. Checking the hallway to make sure no one was coming, she dashed into Conners office, slapped the bug under the front ledge of his desk, then dashed out again.
If the grapevine said Conner was guilty, he was the one to target with her spy tricks.
She placed the recording device in the back of her credenza, placing a ream of paper in front of it.
Now, with that task settled, she could start on her own work space. She wandered down the hall until she located someone else whod braved the early hour, another admin. Her name plate identified her as Iris Hardy.
Excuse me, Jillian began. Im Jillian Baxter, Mr. Blakes new admin. I wonder if you could help me.
Iris, a plain woman with a round face and the sort of dumpy clothes and hair that indicated shed stopped caring about her image, smiled sadly. Hes done something awful already?
Oh, gracious, no, Jillian said, appalled by the other womans attitude. It was like her colleagues were setting her up for failure. Hes not even in yet. Im organizing my work space and I need some office supplies. Should I requisition them?
Only if theres something special you want, Iris said. Otherwise, theres a big storeroom right around that corner. It says Supplies on the door, you cant miss it. Help yourself to whatever you need.
Thanks. Do you want to have lunch later? If you dont already have plans, that is. I might need advice on whats good in the cafeteria, and whats to be avoided.
Jillian had been trying for a note of humor, but it fell flat. Iris frowned.
Honey, you wont be here long enough for us to become friends. If you want to save yourself a lot of aggravation, quit now. She turned her attention back to her computer.
Jillian wondered if she looked frail. Otherwise, why would everyone assume she couldnt stand up to the rigors of a difficult boss? Conner couldnt be that bad.
Then again, with that cruel streak hed shown her in high school, maybe he made Simon Legree look like Mother Teresa. And if he really was the killer
She located the supply closet easily enough and opened the door, nearly colliding with a man on his way out. The slight man with thin, wiry hair and a face like a weasel widened his eyes in surprise when he saw her. It took her a moment, but she recognized his face from the Mayall Lumber Annual Report. This was Isaac Cuddy, the budget director.
Who the hell are you? he asked.
Jillian. Conner Blakes new assistant. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cuddy. She held out her hand, but he didnt reciprocate. He was carrying a large box overflowing with legal pads, pens, packing tape, staples and packets of coffee. Oh, sorry, guess your hands are full. Would you like some help carrying?
No, thank you, he said tersely. Ive got it.
No, thank you, he said tersely. Ive got it.
She held the door open, and he sashayed out.
What an unpleasant little man, she thought. And how odd was it that he was down here fetching his own office supplies? Surely he had an assistant, maybe a whole staff, to handle such mundane tasks.
With a shrug, she returned to gathering up hanging folders, file boxes and trash bags, pens and sticky notes, an extra ream of paper for her printer. She hauled it all back to her office area and dug in.
Shed been hoping the mess of paperwork might offer some insight into what Greg Tynes had been involved in before he died. Hed been an overseas timber buyer, which meant he worked for Conners department. But beyond spotting his name on a couple of invoices, nothing she found was of interest. Most of these papers, as far as she could tell, ought to be shredded, as they were duplicates of documents already filed in the computer system.
The filing cabinet used by Jillians predecessor was almost empty. Jillian remedied that, quickly setting up hanging files with neatly printed labels for invoices, contracts, correspondence and market research.
After almost two hours of dedicated organizing, Jillians desk was clear, with only a small stack of unpaid invoices and another of correspondence, all of which needed input from her new boss before she could take action. When she learned more about her job, she would probably be able to handle more things without bothering Conner. But whether he liked it or not, she would need his help getting settled in.
That thought worried her a bit. The less interaction she had with Conner Blake, the better. Just because he hadnt recognized her or her name yesterday didnt mean he wouldnt today.
What the hell?
Or right now. Jillians heart swooped as she looked up to find Conner glaring down his aristocratic nose at her.
Good morning, Mr. Blake. She refrained from pointing out that it was now almost nine oclock, when he said hed be here by seven.
What happened to all the stuff that was here? he demanded.
Sorted. Filed.
I had a system going here. You shouldnt have touched this stuff until you knew what it was and what I wanted done with it.
I can find anything you need.
I need a letter from Gustav Komoroski regarding a parcel of 520 hectares in northern Poland.
He was testing her. She rolled her desk chair to the filing cabinet, opened the drawer and was riffling the folders. She plucked out the single sheet of stationery, rolled back to her desk and handed it to him.
He returned it to her with only a cursory glance. Call him. Ask him to resend the aerial photos to my email, which is
I know your email address. Shed figured that much out. Did he think she was mentally deficient?
Also explain to him that hell no longer be working with Greg Tynes, whos left the company. Ill be his contact until we hire a new overseas timber buyer.
Left the company. That was an interesting way to put it.
Jillian picked up her cobalt-blue Montblanc fountain pena birthday gift from Daniel two years ago. As his assistant, shed always received nice birthday gifts from him. She would miss that.
Before you do that, though, get me some coffee, Conner said. Strong as you can make it, two sugars, no cream. With that he turned on his heel, offering Jillian a sigh-worthy view of his hindquarters in a well-tailored pair of khaki pants.
For a few moments she simply stared as unwelcome memories flooded her mind. Conner had been a fixture at her family home for as long as Jillian could remember. He and her older brother, Jeff, had met at summer camp in sixth grade, then attended the same private school from seventh grade through high school. Theyd become as close as brothers, their parents had socialized, and Conner had been constantly underfoot.
Jillian had considered him a major annoyancealways raiding their fridge, making noise when she wanted to read, executing killer cannonballs in the pool while she swam laps.
But in eighth grade, her hormones had kicked in, and suddenly her brothers best friend had become infinitely interesting.
By then hed started to look more man than boy. He was driving, his voice had changed, and the donkey laugh that had so infuriated her had mellowed into a pleasing sound that tickled her nerve endings.
All Conner had to do was walk into a room, and she would turn into a puddle of quivering insecurity. Shed seen the girlfriends he sometimes dragged around with himlong-legged cheerleaders with cleavage and sleek hair and lots of mascaraand seethed with envy.
Shed lived for the day she would outgrow her awkward adolescence. She favored her Danish mothereveryone said soand Mona Baxter was beautiful. Jillian just knew that someday, when her teeth were straight and she grew boobs and lost her baby fat, Conner would finally notice her.
By the time she entered high school, Conner had stopped teasing her and ignored her altogether. It had broken her heart when he walked past her in the hall, looking through her as if she were invisiblehe was way too cool to talk to a freshman. But she hadnt given up hope. Shed planned their wedding, mentally decorated their future home and named their future children.
Then came that wonderful day. The day he saw her. Looked her up and down, in fact. Smiled that devilish smile of his and said, Jillybean, I need an assistant for my science fair project. Interested?
It embarrassed her even now to recall how pathetically grateful shed been for his attention, how shed fallen all over herself accepting his proposition and had decided that his use of her hated nickname was actually a term of endearment. Of course, far worse humiliation was soon to come.
Little did she know hed been sizing her up not in terms of her womanly assets, but because of her overall size and shapewhich was, to put it bluntly, short and fat. Hed required a female of certain dimensions for his science fair demonstration, and none of his long-legged bimbo girlfriends had fit the bill.
Jillian shook herself, realizing shed been staring after empty space for some unknown number of seconds after Conner had disappeared. She absolutely could not afford to lose herself in the past, to dwell on long-ago injustices.
She had a few present-day injustices to dwell on. Like the fact Conner hadnt even apologized for making her come in at seven when it was totally unnecessary. And scolding her like a child for doing what any well-trained assistant should doget things organized.
Then there was the business of ordering her to bring him coffee. She used to bring Daniel coffee all the time, but it wasnt something he expected or demanded. Hed taken her on as his assistant to make his life easier, and it was her choice to perform the more personal tasks that a lot of admins would balk at.
Then again, shed viewed her role with Daniel as far more personal than she should have. That was one mistake she wouldnt make again.
If she brought Conner coffee, she would be setting a precedent and earning the disapproval of secretaries everywhere. But if she drew a line in the sand now, he might fire her. She had to keep her eye on the goal: maintain her job at Mayall Lumber. Find out who killed Greg Tynes. Exonerate Stan Mayall of any wrongdoing.
So shed bring Conner his damn coffee, and shed do it with a smile. The bastard.
A few minutes later, she tapped on his door, a steaming mug in hand.