Alex Harris 00 - Armed

I didn’t have a lot to do with her. But you work with someone and you see him or her everyday. She seemed nice, though I didn’t deal with her so I really have no first-hand experience. Andy really liked her. She accommodated his school schedule and he appreciated it.”
    “Do you know of anyone who didn’t like her?”
    Mitch gave a short laugh. “Well, Emmanuelle. Have you met her yet? She’s the sales rep. She works with Richard. She couldn’t stand Mrs. Scott. Of course, not too many people like Emmanuelle. She thinks she’s pretty hot stuff.” Mitch took off his glasses, looked at an imaginary spot, and put them back on. “She sure is beautiful, but she can be so unfriendly. A real bitch. Oh, I’m sorry. Excuse me.”
    Now Mitch turned red.
    “It’s okay. Why didn’t they get along?”
    Mitch shrugged his shoulders and folded his arms across his chest, a piece of his light hair casually falling onto his forehead. “I don’t really know. I don’t think they were ever fond of each other, but it seems to have escalated a bit in the last month. Emmanuelle’s very ambitious. Always kissing up to Mr. Poupée. I don’t know what she thought she would accomplish. This is a small company and we already have a VP of sales and marketing and I don’t see her as being a manufacturing VP or purchasing. There’s not a lot else in the way of high positions around here. She’s just one of those people. Climbing the corporate ladder and walking all over everyone is just normal behavior for some.”
    The coffeepot gurgled. I had forgotten all about it.
    “Mitch, have you noticed anyone acting funny, secretive in some way?”
    “No, should I?”
    “No. Just wondering.” I shrugged. “Trying to get a feel for what’s going on, what could possibly be a motive for what happened.”
    “So you think it was an inside job. I mean, that someone here at Poupée did this?” Mitch asked skeptically. “I don’t see it. Sure, we have petty squabbles like you have in any company, and some people got along better than others. But killing each other? Sorry, Alex. I think you’re off base.”
    “Do you have any ideas then?”
    Mitch hopped off the stool and walked over to the coffeemaker. “No. I just assumed someone broke in here and got scared when Elvira showed up.”
    “Any thoughts as to why someone would break in?”
    Mitch took out a small carton of fresh cream from the tiny refrigerator. “Well, you got me on that one. It’s Christmas? Someone desperate for money? I haven’t a clue. But there’re a lot of crazies in this world. Maybe someone just wanted to get out of the cold and got scared when they realized they weren’t alone.”
    “Maybe,” I answered, “but no one broke in. The doors were still unlocked. So a stranger coming in off the street would know the place was occupied. Besides, the factory isn’t in the center of town. I can’t see too many people walking around out here.” Detective Van der Burg’s words echoed in my head.
    “That’s true. Well, Alex,” Mitch paused to take a sip of his coffee, “you certainly have your work cut out for you.”
    “I guess I do,” I said with resignation. “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thanks and enjoy your coffee. Oh, one more thing. Did you by any chance give Mrs. Scott a package to mail?” I asked, thinking about the extra package on the postal receipt.
    “A package? No. Why?”
    “No reason. Thanks again.”
    “Come back anytime and good luck with your investigation, Nancy Drew.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

    Still early, I hadn’t seen anyone else arrive. I wandered down the hall stopping at the ladies room. I looked in the mirror and shook my head in dismay. Nancy Drew, as played by Pamela Sue Martin, I was not. More like Jessica Fletcher minus about thirty years. If I could change one thing about my appearance it would be my light brown hair. I kept it short because hair like mine had no business being long. Fine and flat I used lots of products to give it some oomph. At thirty-six I had never colored my hair and decided to remedy that.
    I turned off the light and headed back down the hall, this time stopping at a door marked Order Desk and went in hoping to catch Sandy before she started her day.
    “Hi, is Sandy in yet?”
    A young woman seated at one of the desks shook her head and resumed her computer work.
    “Do you know when she’ll be in?”
    “Should be any minute.”
    The nameplate on her desk said Monica