Free Monahan 02 Artificial Intentions by Rosemarie A D'Amico

throughout the years of senior executives arguing with the auditors to sign off on different accounting treatments kept echoing in the back of my mind. I needed to know where a company could pad the statements.
    I gave up in disgust at six o’clock and left the office. I was surprised to see Lou waiting for me beside the dark Lincoln in front of the building.
    “Don’t you have a life?” I joked.
    He held the door of the car open for me and gave me a little smile.
    “I was always on call until I heard from Mr. Connaught. I intend to keep at it until I hear differently from you.”
    He was concentrating on the traffic as we pulled away from the curb.
    “Lou,” I called from the back seat. His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror.
    “Can I ask you a question?”
    He nodded.
    “Why weren’t you driving Mr. Connaught on the night he was killed?”
    He maneuvered around a stalled car blocking our lane and didn’t answer me until his attention allowed.
    “I’m not sure when he was killed, ma’am, but I didn’t drive him on Wednesday. When I went to pick him up on Wednesday morning at his apartment, he never showed. I just thought he’d gone to the office early. He did that some times. But then his secretary, Miss Carrie called me, all in a panic, around ten o’clock that morning wanting to know where he was.”
    This was all news to me.
    “You mean he never showed up for the directors’ meeting on Wednesday morning?”
    “Not that I’m aware of ma’am.”
    “Do you know when they found his body?”
    “No ma’am.”
    Why hadn’t I asked any of these questions earlier? I grabbed the cellular phone that was mounted between the seats and dialed Cleve’s cell number. I looked at my watch and hoped I got him before he got on the plane. I had insisted he go home for the weekend.
    The phone wasn’t through one ring before he answered.
    “Cleveland Johnston.”
    “Hi. It’s Kate. Did you report Tommy as missing when he didn’t show for the board meeting?”
    “Yes,” he said slowly.
    “What time?”
    “Around six that night.”
    “Did the police do anything?”
    “No. They said a person has to be missing more than twenty-four hours before they could consider them as missing.”
    “But where was he?”
    “They don’t know, Kate.”
    “I know that. I’m just thinking out loud.”
    “The police are looking into it.”
    “Sure they are. I’m their prime suspect so that means they’re not looking elsewhere.”
    “You’re not their prime suspect. They’re just covering all the bases.”
    I needed to know. Something was burning inside me and I needed to know, now.
    “Cleve, can I get into Tommy’s apartment?”
    “Sure. It’s yours now anyway. I understand the police are done looking through it and the doorman has the key and instructions to let you in. The law firm sent over a letter today.”
    I told Lou we had a change of plans and we headed for Tommy’s apartment.
    chapter eleven
    I was nervous and apprehensive now that I was here, and I tried to look casual as I stood under the awning-covered entrance to the apartment building and looked across the busy street at Central Park. I felt at “sixes and sevens” as my grandmother used to say, and my feet seemed cemented to the ground. Lou had insisted on waiting for me and was lounging beside the car. I walked back over to where he was standing several yards down the street.
    “I’ll take you up on your offer,” I told him.
    When we had pulled up in front of the building he had offered to introduce me to the doorman who manned the desk in the lobby of the apartment building.
    “I’ve known him for some time now, Miss,” he had said. “I often wait for Mr. Connaught in the lobby.”
    In my typically independent way I had refused his offer, but was now having second thoughts about the whole thing. I wasn’t even sure in fact if I wanted to go into the apartment. What did I expect to find?
    Lou led the way through the revolving entrance