Free Twisted Hunger by Marilyn Campbell Page A

her, but the fact remained that her initial reaction, combined with her failure to mention that the late, great caterer was her mother, indicated that she probably had a hidden agenda for working in his office.
    The big unanswered question was still whether she had merely taken advantage of a golden opportunity to advance her career and possibly learn something about her mother’s unfortunate demise, or had she somehow bribed his former aide to create the opportunity to play detective? If it was the latter, exactly what did she suspect, and why?
    He had learned of her relationship shortly after he interviewed her for the position. Naturally, he could have rejected her at that point, but it seemed much better to bring her into the fold and let her personally discover what a good man he was.
    Meanwhile, she was turning out to be a true asset to his office, a real jewel in a time when good help was so hard to find.
    * * *
    “I know I told you it was a draft copy,” Ellery told the new stenographer. “But I can’t give it to the senator with all these typos. You’ll need to make all the corrections I’ve noted then bring it back immediately. He needs to take it with him when he leaves today.” Ellery shook her head as the young man walked out. She didn’t know what was going on today, but no one seemed to be able to do anything right the first time. On top of that, the telephone had not stopped ringing for more than a few seconds all day. As if to punctuate that thought, it rang again.
    Before she could recite her greeting to the caller, a man’s voice said, “I’d like to make a reservation for dinner for five at six this evening.”
    “I’m sorry. You have the wrong number. This is an office, not a restaurant.” She hung up and pulled her address book out of her purse. Carefully inserted amongst names and addresses was the transcription of the code Carl Brevowski used when contacting her.
    A “dinner reservation for five” meant he would meet her near the fountain in the Yorkshire Hotel courtyard. “Six” actually meant nine-thirty.
    The fact that she had just made an appointment at that same hotel for eight o’clock seemed too perfect for this to be a mere coincidence. There were dozens of other public locations for which he had given her codes. Could Brevowski really be watching her that closely without her noticing him? As unlikely as that was, she also found it very hard to believe that he could get away with tapping the senator’s telephone lines, but she didn’t have a more logical explanation for Brevowski’s uncanny insight.
    Her reply of “I’m sorry” indicated that she would be able to meet him as requested. If she had not been able to make it, she would have said, “You must be mistaken”, in which case he would have offered an alternate arrangement.
    It all seemed like such a waste of time and effort. She had met with Brevowski once a week, on different days and at different places, since she’d started working for the senator, and not once had she had anything negative to tell him.
    The first week of May, she had spent every minute attached to the hip of Jones’ departing aide. That woman had granted her boss sainthood, as had most of the other staff members Ellery met. That certainly dashed Mr. Brevowski’s hope that she would quickly uncover some juicy secret about Jones. The second week, the aide was too occupied with farewells to be much help and it was all Ellery could do to keep up with her new job.
    Last week, she went into the office an hour early each day to familiarize herself with the files kept in her office. As she expected, none contained any surprises.
    She was pleased to note that, between her previous experience and the training session, she was quickly operating as though she’d worked there for years instead of weeks.
    At least this week she had something specific to tell Brevowski, although it wasn’t what he was hoping for. Senator Jones had spoken before a