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

sunglasses, but I could feel the intensity focused on me. I really didn’t want to fend off the Hudson P.D. or—shudder— the feds. He had me over a barrel and he knew it, the smug bastard.
    I drew up as tall as my five-foot four-inch frame allowed and reached for the handle. Valentino slid over, probably wanting some distance between his Armani suit and my sweaty stench. The leather interior cradled my sore backside and I took a moment to feel for my cell phone, ready to call in the cavalry, or Marty, if the situation went south.
    Valentino waited for the car to start moving before he turned to face me. “I applaud your tenacity, Mrs. Phillips. I understand you aren’t the type of woman to give up but you’re in way over your head and mucking up my affairs. I cannot allow that to continue.”
    I swallowed at the perceived threat, calling myself all kinds of stupid. No one knew I was with him and if he wanted me to disappear, I’m sure he’d be able to arrange it.
    “Why didn’t you stop Garner from hiring me?” I asked, fear making me bold. “And why did you cover for me last night. Wouldn’t it have been easier to have Sloan call the cops and have me under police supervision?”
    Valentino rubbed the bridge of his nose. “My father taught me to keep my friends close and my enemies closer. I’m not sure which category you fall under, but you present a problem in either case.”
    “I only want to help Candie.” I told him honestly.
    “That makes two of us, but you are in no position to help her. I am able, but not with your constant interference.”
    I pondered his words. He said he could help Candie, not that he would. “Tell me about Amelia Kettering.” I ordered.
    Valentino removed his sunglasses, his eyes wide. “Who told you about her?”
    He didn’t have to sound so incredulous. “She did. From our conversation, I gather she doesn’t hold you in high esteem.”
    “Jealous harpy,” Valentino muttered, then sighed. “Candie went through an experimental phase in college, not so uncommon. Amelia built it up to be more than it was. Started threatening to tell Candies’ parents about their relationship, hoping they’d sequester her away from the world. A classic, if I can’t have her, no one can. Candie ended their affair and asked Amelia not to contact her again.”
    “Your suggestion, I suppose?”
    Valentino didn’t respond, but I had my answer. No matter what he said, I knew this man didn’t put up with threats in any form.
    He smiled, just a wry quirk of his lips. “I can tell you’ve painted me as the villain here, but I assure you I’ve always made her well-being a top priority.”
    I pondered that for a moment. “Do you know where she is?”
    “I’m sure Candie is safe. It’s no secret that she was unhappy here and it’s easy to believe she’s taken off for a bit. She always did have a love for drama, but I’m involved with several projects which require my attention and I can’t run after her like some moon-struck adolescent.”
    Unbelievable. He was claiming she ran off in a fit of pique. And he hadn’t denied knowledge of her whereabouts. I gazed out of the car window sightlessly for a minute. If what he said was true, then why had he bothered to call the FBI? And what about the notes and the dead bird? I was dying to ask him about Falcon, but afraid to push too hard.
    “What did the other note say? The one you found after Candie disappeared.” I asked him, not believing for a second he would tell me.
    “Telling you that defeats the purpose of asking you to back off from your investigation, does it not?” He reached into a pocket of his overcoat and extracted a business envelope. “For your trouble.”
    I starred at the offering. “Buying my silence, Mr. Valentino?”
    “Think of it more as a peace offering. As well as compensation for all your hard work. I asked Sierra to include a letter of recommendation, so you won’t be forced to make up references in the future.”
    I blushed to the roots of my hair. Was it my fault that all of my clients left the area, or died, after utilizing my services?
    “And here we are.” The car stopped and I recognized the ugly camper out the front windshield. The dutiful chauffer had merely been circling our development until Valentino spoke his piece.
    “Take a vacation, Mrs. Phillips. You’ve earned it.” He pressed the thick envelope into my hand and before I knew what was happening, I stood on the sidewalk,