Trust Me

body unless it became absolutely necessary. It wasn’t necessary yet.
    There was time to think. Time to act.
    The most important thing to remember was that she was no longer five years old. She was not a helpless child trapped in the clutches of an insane man.
    And she was no closer to Vernon Tate’s body than she had been three minutes ago. The walls were not closing in on her.
    She considered the possibility of hammering on the steel walls with one of the stainless steel freezer trays. She might be able to generate enough noise to attract someone’s attention.
    The flaw in that scheme was that it was highly unlikely that any of the neighboring shopkeepers had come in to work this early.
    She needed another way to communicate.
    She slid all the way down into a crouching position. Desdemona hugged her knees and tried to wrench her gaze away from Vernon Tate’s body.
    The slight movement caused the edge of her red jacket to shift. There was a small clunk as the object inside the right pocket brushed against the freezer wall.
    Desdemona belatedly remembered her beautiful PDA X-1000. She had stuck it into her jacket this morning, just as she always did before she left for work.
    Some men gave a woman flowers. Some gave perfume. But some a rare few, no doubt, had an instinct for giving a woman the perfect gift.

    Stark got Desdemona’s email message as soon as he switched on his computer.
    To: [email protected]
    From: [email protected]
    Trapped in freezer. Dead body. Please hurry.
    Stark read the short message twice. It crossed his mind that Desdemona might be playing a joke on him. He picked up the telephone and dialed her apartment number.
    There was no answer.
    He dialed the Right Touch number. Again no response.
    An unpleasant sensation gripped him. Desdemona was not comfortable enough yet with computers to play games on them.
    He took a few seconds to type out a reply.
    To: [email protected]
    From: [email protected]
    I’m on my way.
    He surged to his feet and headed for the door.
    Maud looked up in alarm as he went past her desk. “Mr. Stark, is something wrong?”
    “Something’s come up. Tell Dane he’ll have to handle the Connelly Manufacturing people by himself. If they don’t like the fact that I’m not at the meeting, reschedule. You can reach me on my PDA.”
    “Yes, Mr. Stark.” Maud straightened her shoulders. “Trust me, sir. I’ll handle everything here. Flexibility is the hallmark of a successful secretary. We must learn to adapt to life’s constantly changing winds. The branch that cannot bend will surely break.”
    Stark didn’t have time to think of an adequate response.
    He took the elevator to the street floor of the high-rise building and ran most of the six blocks to Pioneer Square. It was faster than getting the car out of the garage or trying to catch a cab.
    He reached Right Touch a few minutes later. He went down the alley and found the rear door open. When he stepped inside, he immediately saw the heavy steel shelving that blocked the freezer door.
    It did not take him long to move it.
    He jerked open the freezer door.
    “Stark.” Desdemona exploded out of the freezer and into his arms. She clutched her PDA X-1000 in one hand. She pushed her face into his chest and clung to him. “I got your message. I got it. I was going crazy, and then I got your message. I knew you’d come.”
    “What the hell happened here?” Stark hugged her fiercely.
    Then he saw Vernon Tate’s body in the corner of the freezer.

    Hours later, after the police had finally left, Emote Espresso was overrun by Wainwrights.
    They were everywhere, and they were all doing Shock and Horror. Stark decided that he had never really seen shock and horror done until now when he witnessed a whole family of theater people doing it.
    Henry and Kirsten slumped elegantly on counter stools, espresso cups in hand. Bess and Augustus were draped languidly over a tiny table. They stirred their lattes with slow, desultory motions. Juliet, still somewhat ashen, sat at another table and toyed with a cup of cappuccino. Even Macbeth was there. He had Jason and Kyle with him.
    Stark noted that Tony was the only one who was missing. Apparently he had not yet gotten the word.
    Desdemona was center stage, seated at a small table. There was a cup of tea in front of her. Stark sat across from her.
    “I still can’t believe that poor Vernon is dead,” Desdemona said for the hundredth time. “He was such a pleasant man.