Southern Justice, Part 40

I’m Fixin’ To present part 40 of Southern Justice:

On Monday morning before Chris Adams exited his car in the Pic-Ric Products’ parking lot, he made sure the glove compartment was completely secure, after he had placed inside it the stolen list of Rick Senior’s assets with the forgery on the bottom of it.

As he walked toward the business’ front door he made a mental note to find Jones as soon as he got inside. He was anxious about the phone call from him that he had missed over the weekend.

It turned out he didn’t have to look very far, because when he started down the hallway he saw Jones and Vickie standing at his office door staring toward the inside of it.

That’s when it hit him—he suddenly remembered that after his and Patty’s rendezvous the past Saturday night, he had left everything as-was when they made their departure. He had been in such a state that he hadn’t even remembered to close his office door.

Jones had this incredulous look on his face when he asked, “What the hell happened here Chris? Shall I call security?”

Almost in panic Chris stuttered, “No-no-no, it’s all right! I was just looking for something this weekend, and I was, uh, in a real big hurry.”

Jones continued to observe the bare desk and the items strewn about as he said, “I sure hope you found whatever you were looking for.”

“Yes,” Chris answered breathlessly, “I did. I found everything I was looking for.”

Vickie took a step toward the doorway and said, “I’ll try to put your office back together for you.”

Chris gently took her arm and guided her away from the door as he said, “No, thank you, I’ll take care of it later.” Then as he closed the office door behind him he turned toward Jones and asked, “Could we have coffee in your office, Jones?”

Jones shook his head in bewilderment and said, “Sure, follow me.”

Once the three of them were settled with their coffee Chris looked at Jones and said, “I’m sorry I missed your phone call this weekend. By the time I picked up your message on Sunday night and called you back you had already left. What was it about?”

“I just wanted to confirm that you were right about the lake house near mine,” Jones told him. “They were there this past weekend—that fat lawyer and the grieving widow. While we were fishing I saw them on their deck getting a little sun while they were enjoying their cocktails. Then later in the day I saw them again cruising around in their pontoon boat.”

With some concern in his voice Chris asked, “You didn’t let them see you, did you?”

“No, I’m sure they didn’t recognize me. I was just another fisherman wearing a hat and sunglasses. But why is it important whether they recognized me or not?”

“I’m not real sure at the moment, but I think maybe it could be important later that they not know who their neighbors are. Did you accomplish anything with our lawyer, other than catching fish?” Chris asked.

“The report isn’t due until tomorrow,” Jones quipped. “How about you, did you accomplish anything this weekend?” Jones asked with a suspicious look in his eyes.

“Uh, like you said, the meeting isn’t due until tomorrow,” Chris said as he stood up to go.

Vickie stood up at the same time, looked at Chris and said, “I’m not going to ask any questions. My woman’s intuition and the look on your face gives me an idea of how your office got in the condition it’s in. I’ll be at my desk if you gentlemen need me.”

After she was gone Jones asked, “What the heck was that all about, intuition and the look on your face?”

Ignoring the question Chris said, “Like we agreed, the reports are due at tomorrow’s meeting. I’ll be in my office, also.” Then he walked out the door.

After restoring his office from the destruction which had been wrought upon it, Chris sat down at his desk and attacked the mountain of work confronting him.

His day ended a few minutes after six in the evening, and not long afterwards he merged into the traffic, wondering if she would be there when he got home.

She was, along with a very pleasant surprise.

(tmdunagan@aol.com)