Alex Harris 00 - Armed

leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. “I wanted to ask you out to dinner. I’m just not sure of the timing.”
    I started to tell him I would love to have dinner and would tonight be too soon, when the phone rang. I reached for it trying to keep the agitation out of my voice.
    “Thanks, Ruth. Send him in.” I turned to John and shrugged. “Mr. Absher is here.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

    “I can’t believe it. I talked with Elvira shortly before I left for Oregon. You’ll have to excuse me for a minute.”
    Mr. Poupée directed Oliver Absher toward the men’s room and a few minutes later he returned.
    “Oliver, why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”
    Mr. Absher loosened his tie. “Do you mind?” he gestured to Mr. Poupée as he gave up and pulled it from around his neck.
    He bunched it up and shoved it into his jacket pocket. I saw what Mrs. Scott found so attractive. His skin was lightly tanned and his eyes, while surrounded by lines still had a brightness to them. Of medium height and build I could picture them together. I coughed, trying to hide the tears I felt coming for this man and a future he would never have with Mrs. Scott. Life is short. I needed to grab it with all my might and take a chance.
    Oliver Absher reached for a glass of water Mr. Poupée had poured. “When I returned to the office yesterday, I found a package waiting for me from Elvira. I tried calling her several times with no luck so I asked Joyce to book me a flight.”
    “We closed early yesterday for the funeral. I’m sorry. We should have waited for you.”
    “It’s okay, William,” Mr. Absher said softly, pain in his voice. “I’ll go out to the cemetery later.”
    “Mr. Absher, you mentioned something in the card about Mrs. Scott having a dilemma. Can you explain?” John asked.
    “Yes, and then I’ll show you the package.” Mr. Absher took another sip of water and continued, “Last month I came here for the annual meeting. The year before I couldn’t make it and the year before that you canceled.”
    “That’s right,” interrupted Mr. Poupée. “We overhauled the factory then and canceled.”
    “You have a sales representative, Emmanuelle Roberts. Emmanuelle is an unusual name so I felt certain, but when I saw her, I knew.”
    “Knew what, Mr. Absher?” I asked.
    “Several years back another manufacturing firm outside of Chicago had a scandal with missing money. The owner, a good friend of mine, had a young woman working for him. Emmanuelle Roberts. They couldn’t prove anything, but traced the missing money to a few months after she started. At any rate, when I saw her here I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to come directly to you, William, but I needed to check out a few things first.”
    “Wouldn’t these things have come out in her interview for employment here?” John asked.
    “I talked with her during the interview process, but Richard made the final decision. It’s a bit tricky for past employers to say negative things when you call for references and if they didn’t press charges against her they would have no proof,” Mr. Poupée explained.
    “Why didn’t the firm in Chicago press charges?” I asked.
    “They were just about to go public with the company. A scandal would have negated the whole deal.”
    “And you told Mrs. Scott,” John said.
    “Yes. We went out to dinner and she sensed something was wrong. I told her of my concerns and decided I would look into it a bit more on my end and she would keep an eye on Ms. Roberts. Funny thing though, she seemed to suspect Emmanuelle of something already.”
    “Keep an eye on her? How do you mean?” I flashed back to my conversation with Mrs. Haddock and wondered if Mrs. Scott stalked Emmanuelle and Emmanuelle found out and killed her. But who stalked Mrs. Scott? Maybe the two women followed each other, finally collided, and one of them ended up dead.
    “I don’t know exactly. Elvira said she’d watch her though Ms. Roberts worked at home a lot. After I confirmed my suspicions, which, by the way, doesn’t mean I found out she did anything, I called Elvira. At that point she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to involve you, William, but she didn’t know how to get rid of Emmanuelle without bringing you into it. And while we had our suspicions, we had no proof Emmanuelle had ever done anything wrong. Just a lot of gossip. She dated someone from the company in Chicago that did indeed get terminated