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

risk. But they’ve already shelled out a tanker’s worth of capitol to buy a contract and no one wants to eat that kind of loss.”
    “I didn’t think Intel would outsource like that.” Intel was the lifeblood of our community. If you didn’t work there, someone you knew did. Intel employees donated time and money and equipment to help upgrade the schools, library and even the Hudson P.D. Heck the new theatre at the high school had been named after the company. I couldn’t fathom a situation where they looked outside their own walls when they had many of the best technical minds in the country at their disposal.
    “Budgets are tight everywhere and it doesn’t make sense to devote someone from manufacturing or design to come up with a solution when we could purchase one with a lot less cost and effort.”
    His explanation made sense. A great deal of sense, but I couldn’t get past Valentino’s involvement. “The man’s dirty Neil, I can feel it.” I pounded on my chest for emphasis.
    “His wife was kidnapped and someone’s been sending him gruesome warnings. That doesn’t make him Snidely Whiplash.”
    I almost told him about my cleaning job at Safari the night before, but I didn’t want to fight with him when he was on his way to work and already in a pissy mood. The more I thought on it, I was sure Valentino had only played ignorant when we’d been introduced yesterday. Not that I was particularly memorable, but coupled with the fact that he’d granted me a boon and not had my hide arrested for snooping, something was off.
    And with my day free, I was determined to find out what.

Fourteen

    I might be able to get into this exercise thing. I told myself as I stumbled back up the hill. Not that I was enjoying the physical exertion, but it gave me a good reason to check out the house where Neil had stopped yesterday. His car wasn’t in the drive this morning and I’d waited in my skulking spot for ten minutes, until my toes went numb. Eventually, I would break down and ask him why he’d stopped there, who owned the place and why he hadn’t told me about his detour, but for now, I’d go the Nancy Drew route.
    My song—Blue Oyster Cult Burning for you —finished halfway up the hill and the only sound came from my sneakers hitting the pavement and a less pronounced wheezing. Tempted to stop and switch songs, I pushed harder, my thighs going from a slow burn to a fiery inferno. Almost there, a few more steps and the torture would be behind me. I promised my aching body I would reward it and walk the final half mile.
    An engine purred from behind me and without looking I moved to the shoulder of the road. I had no idea what side I was supposed to be on, it wasn’t like driving a car, so I was jogging with the flow of traffic and would continue to do so until told otherwise.
    “Mrs. Phillips?” I jumped at the sound of my name, glad the music was off. I wasn’t coordinated enough to jog and look over at the same time, so I slowed my pace to a walk.
    “What…can I… do for… you?” I huffed. The silver car was a BMW and very new, judging from the look of it. The man who’d addressed me was unfamiliar, dressed in a gray suit with an exceptionally hideous red tie. Large sunglasses hid his eyes, but a friendly smile lit his face. The car and the suit was a little too over the top for my neighborhood and if he hadn’t called to me by name I would have assumed he was lost.
    “My employer would like a moment of your time.” The man said with an apologetic smile. “If you would be so kind to get in the car, I’d be happy to give you a ride.”
    “Who’s your employer?” I asked.
    “Mr. Valentino.”
    I stopped cold and the car, which had been keeping pace with me, did as well. “Are you kidding?” Had I passed out from lack of oxygen or stumbled into a mafia movie? Who the hell made an offer like that? Markus fricking Valentino, apparently.
    The driver answered as if I’d asked a genuine question. “No Ma’am. If you would just get into the vehicle please….”
“Not gonna happen, buster.” I told him while searching for a shortcut he couldn’t follow.
    Before I could decide on a course of action, the window in the rear of the car rolled down and a new voice commanded my attention. “Either get in the car, Mrs. Phillips or I’ll be forced to alert the authorities to your trespassing on my property.”
    The man himself. Valentino’s eyes were hidden behind designer