The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Swept Under the Rug

Between lawyers, court fees and supporting two households, I’m seeing red wherever I turn.”
    I shot him a confident smile. “So, can I get back to work now? I wanna be out of here before midnight.”
    “Sure, sure. Tom will be leaving as soon as I finish my rounds. If you need anything hit star three for the security desk.” My new buddy tipped his ball cap at me and sauntered to the elevator. I made a show of pulling out a roll of paper towels, the Windex that almost got me killed and spritzing the open doors to Valentino’s office.
    The elevator dinged and Richard stomped past Sloan. “There are no invoices in that God forsaken vehicle!” He snapped.
    “Really? I could have sworn I put them there earlier. Sorry about that, I guess I’ll call Mr. Garner tomorrow. Would you mind vacuuming in the office?” All this acting was giving me a migraine.
    Richard grumbled, but I could tell his protests were halfhearted as he unplugged the vacuum and jauntily pushed it toward the open doors. I wanted to sag as the tail end of adrenalin departed from my system, but I was still on camera.
    All that effort and I hadn’t unearthed anything noteworthy. The idea that Valentino had recognized me but played dumb this afternoon and then supported my phony claim turned my knees to jelly. What was his deal? He’d called the FBI about his wife’s possible abduction, but didn’t care enough to console her when she was shaken by the dead bird or display her picture in his office. I thought back to my brief conversation with Amelia. He wanted what someone else possessed and now someone else had his wife. But where the hell did I fit in?
    Realizing I was standing around staring at nothing, I dropped the window supplies back into the cart and extracted my Swiffer duster to do the blinds and windowsills. The drone of the vacuum emanated from the open office, but it didn’t sound like Richard was moving it at all. I couldn’t muster the will to care, for once not at all concerned about my reputation. No way would I come back here, as I planned to tell Garner tomorrow. I refused to be a pawn in whatever twisted crap was going on with Valentino.
    Strangely detached, I watched the duster slide gracefully over the blinds, trapping grit and allergens in its fluffy grip. I held it up to my face, thinking it looked like a bird after a mud bath. Falcon, Hawk, Phoenix, ran through my head again and again. Falcon was Valentino’s potentially Earth changing solar storage unit, the hawk had been charred and left for Candie and the Phoenix had kicked it all off in that first note. The note Valentino hadn’t wanted the FBI to see, but my paranoia had daunted him.
    Shaking my head, I discarded the skanky duster in the trash and removed the garbage bag and placed it on my cart. Was I coming between Valentino and something he wanted? Truly, I didn’t believe the man was dangerous, but did I really know of what he might be capable when pushed. Perhaps my reprieve tonight was his way of setting me up for something more sinister.
    Inhaling, I coughed and almost doubled over from the choking smell of a too full vacuum bag. “Hey, Richard, finish up, we’re heading out.”
    No force on the planet would make me come back here.

    * * * *
    Neil was sprawled on the air mattress by the time I walked through the door. The chiming clock on the mantel tolled twelve as I dropped my coat on the hall tree and stumbled toward the bathroom.
    A quick shower and I supposed the worst of the astringent smell was off, but I shampooed twice to be sure. Not having the energy to properly dry myself off, I swathed my dripping carcass in a terry robe and blotted my hair with a towel. I combed through the tangles, ripping a few strands out, not caring all that much. The pain kept me from tumbling face first into the mirror.
    I shut off the light before opening the door. A quick check on the boys revealed everyone in bed and asleep. My feet dragged on our thin carpet as I headed for the air mattress. Given my exhaustion, I flopped onto the makeshift bed with enough force to wake the dead, but Neil didn’t stir. I listened to his even breaths until sleep claimed me.
    Although physically spent, my mind agitated like an unbalanced load of wash and I wasn’t surprised to find myself in a basement, having no memory of how I’d gotten there. Little light permeated the crusty arrow slit window several feet above my head and the smell of mildew overpowered my nose. I