Free Bay of Deception by Timothy Allan Pipes

sit in the large custom chair beneath him and the executive placed a Diet Coke on the desk’s edge before Oliver, then sat back after opening his own. Oliver reached over, popped open the drink and took a sip. 
    “Please forgive the lighting, Detective,” Jeffers said  as he swiveled back and forth in his over-sized command chair.  “An unfortunate side effect of my size is a sensitivity to light.  I hope it's not too dark for you."  Jeffers smiled, shark-like.  "But then, you didn't come here to discuss my sense of decor, did you, Detective?”
    Not long after becoming a policeman, Oliver discovered just how often both criminals and cops employed the art of subterfuge.  He’d found this true without fail in the case of the former and too often in the latter.  Always the cat and mouse game and rarely if ever was anything clear or in the open light of day.  He hated setting people up and he especially hated being set up, and it'd been a long time since he’d felt this much a patsy.  It was as if Jeffers didn’t care if he knew it and this more than anything, made him uneasy.  He gave up any hope of getting anything useful from Jeffers, and yet he couldn’t allow himself to walk away empty-handed. 
    “My understanding is that Carol Montoya worked for you personally,” Oliver said, pulling out a pen and notepad.
    “That’s correct.” Jeffers halted his chair’s slight rocking.  “She worked her way up the secretarial pool here at JenelCo while attending Monterey Peninsula College and became my Executive Assistant when she got her A.A.  All of us at JenelCo were deeply saddened by the tragedy which struck she and her family.” 
    “I noticed your new assistant already had her personally engraved desk,” Oliver stated, wanting to phrase this right.  “Yet I was of the understanding you were Ms. Montoya’s latest supervisor.”  
    Jeffers was motionless for several seconds before replying. 
    “I have always believed one should not speak ill of the dead and yet this will eventually come out.”  The giant shifted back once again before continuing.  “Ms. Montoya had been suffering from psychological problems for the last few years, finally going on disability for the last month.  It was my understanding that she’d been seeing a psychiatrist and though she seemed to stabilize for a time, eventually she was forced to go on medication for depression.  It was not long after that she went on disability.”   
    “Do you know the name of the psychologist?”  Oliver readied his pen.
    “No, Detective, I don’t.” Jeffers responding after a slight hesitation.  After a moment, he picked up the phone, which appeared toy-like in his grip and turned toward Oliver. 
    “But I can tell you when her last appointment was, if you’ll give me a minute.”  He punched a single button and waited.  “Ms. Sanders, please call records and have them bring Carol Montoya’s personal employee box to my office, including her insurance records.”  Without waiting for a reply, Jeffers replaced the hand set to its base. 
    “Was Ms. Montoya close to anybody here at JenelCo?"  Oliver asked, opting to use the time it took to transport the files.  "Perhaps somebody she worked or lunched with on a regular basis?”  
    “I’m afraid I’m of little use to you there either, Detective,” Jeffers sighed, sadly.  “My day is largely a succession of meetings, few of which end by lunch time so I wouldn’t know who she broke bread with.”
    Oliver gave a perfunctory smile and tapped pen to note pad. “Do you have any idea why somebody would want to harm Ms. Montoya or perhaps know of somebody she’d had a falling out with?”
    “Ms. Montoya was a very private person, Detective," Jeffers said.  "Though we worked together for five years, we only went to lunch, perhaps a half dozen times at most.  To be completely honest, I’m not even sure if she has family in the area.”  
    Oliver stared at the