connected to the case will be reimbursed by me on Friday morning or early afternoon. Though I usually leave around three on Fridays, so anytime up until then, just stop in with your documentation and I’ll write the check.”
“How do I document my hours?” Mallory asked.
“You just keep track on a daily basis and add them up at the end of the week.” Susanna appeared somewhat confused by the question. “Surely you’re familiar with time sheets?”
“I meant, how will you know if I actually worked that number of hours?”
“I guess I’m just going to have to trust you on that.” Susanna stood to indicate the meeting had concluded. “But of course, if after several sixty-hour weeks you’ve nothing to report, I might start to wonder just what you were doing all that time.”
Before Mallory could respond, Susanna walked around the desk and said, “You can find your way out, I trust?”
“I wouldn’t be much of an investigator if I couldn’t,” Mallory said drily as she rose and swung her bag over her shoulder, “since it’s a straight shot down the hall from here to the front door.”
“I’ll see you on Friday, then.” Susanna leaned back against her desk, her arms folded over her chest.
“Not this Friday, I’m afraid,” Mallory told her. “Until I’m licensed, I can’t charge for my services. I can start my investigation as a friend of the family, but I can’t do the work ‘for hire.’”
“Who would know if you did?”
“I would.”
“I see.” Susanna raised an eyebrow. “Will there be a problem…?”
“I don’t anticipate one. The license comes from the county, and I’m well known there.”
“How long will this take?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know when I know.”
“Then you’ll save your hours and bill them when the time comes.”
“We’ll see. A lot can happen between then and now.” Mallory walked to the door. “You should know one thing about me. I’m a good investigator. I can’t find evidence where there isn’t any, but I will find whatever is there. And if there comes a point when I feel I can’t do any more on this case, you will be the first to know. So you won’t have to worry about firing me for dragging out an investigation that’s going nowhere. I’ll have quit long before that.”
Mallory left the office and walked down the silent hall toward the door, her footfalls little more than whispers on the thick carpets. She passed no one on her way out, and wondered if Robert and Susanna were the only souls in the house.
Someone must clean this place,
she was thinking as she let herself out.
Someone must cook and take care of all the details of everyday life.
She was pretty certain that someone wasn’t Susanna Jones.
She got into her car and left the way she came, following the lane to the gate, which opened on its own at her approach. Off to her right, a landscaping crew worked on extensive flower beds that lined the drive on either side. She drove slowly, noting the lush swaths of peonies and roses that appeared to be newly planted, some flowering shrubs she didn’t recognize, and dozens and dozens of perennials already in bloom.
Whose idea was that?
she wondered.
Not Robert Magellan’s, certainly. The man didn’t appear to have much of an interest in anything. And probably not Susanna’s, either. She didn’t strike Mallory as the type to concern herself with such tasks, though Mal could be wrong about that.
What Susanna did strike Mallory as was distrustful. Cool. Detached. Except, she suspected, when it came to Robert.
The gates closed behind her, and Mallory headed back toward Conroy. At first, she hadn’t been sure she liked the idea of having to sign what amounted to a confidentiality agreement, but she saw no harm in it. After all Robert Magellan had been through, it was probably a good idea, though she was pretty certain the idea had been Susanna’s rather than Robert’s. Mallory smiled and turned on the radio. It
“How do I document my hours?” Mallory asked.
“You just keep track on a daily basis and add them up at the end of the week.” Susanna appeared somewhat confused by the question. “Surely you’re familiar with time sheets?”
“I meant, how will you know if I actually worked that number of hours?”
“I guess I’m just going to have to trust you on that.” Susanna stood to indicate the meeting had concluded. “But of course, if after several sixty-hour weeks you’ve nothing to report, I might start to wonder just what you were doing all that time.”
Before Mallory could respond, Susanna walked around the desk and said, “You can find your way out, I trust?”
“I wouldn’t be much of an investigator if I couldn’t,” Mallory said drily as she rose and swung her bag over her shoulder, “since it’s a straight shot down the hall from here to the front door.”
“I’ll see you on Friday, then.” Susanna leaned back against her desk, her arms folded over her chest.
“Not this Friday, I’m afraid,” Mallory told her. “Until I’m licensed, I can’t charge for my services. I can start my investigation as a friend of the family, but I can’t do the work ‘for hire.’”
“Who would know if you did?”
“I would.”
“I see.” Susanna raised an eyebrow. “Will there be a problem…?”
“I don’t anticipate one. The license comes from the county, and I’m well known there.”
“How long will this take?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know when I know.”
“Then you’ll save your hours and bill them when the time comes.”
“We’ll see. A lot can happen between then and now.” Mallory walked to the door. “You should know one thing about me. I’m a good investigator. I can’t find evidence where there isn’t any, but I will find whatever is there. And if there comes a point when I feel I can’t do any more on this case, you will be the first to know. So you won’t have to worry about firing me for dragging out an investigation that’s going nowhere. I’ll have quit long before that.”
Mallory left the office and walked down the silent hall toward the door, her footfalls little more than whispers on the thick carpets. She passed no one on her way out, and wondered if Robert and Susanna were the only souls in the house.
Someone must clean this place,
she was thinking as she let herself out.
Someone must cook and take care of all the details of everyday life.
She was pretty certain that someone wasn’t Susanna Jones.
She got into her car and left the way she came, following the lane to the gate, which opened on its own at her approach. Off to her right, a landscaping crew worked on extensive flower beds that lined the drive on either side. She drove slowly, noting the lush swaths of peonies and roses that appeared to be newly planted, some flowering shrubs she didn’t recognize, and dozens and dozens of perennials already in bloom.
Whose idea was that?
she wondered.
Not Robert Magellan’s, certainly. The man didn’t appear to have much of an interest in anything. And probably not Susanna’s, either. She didn’t strike Mallory as the type to concern herself with such tasks, though Mal could be wrong about that.
What Susanna did strike Mallory as was distrustful. Cool. Detached. Except, she suspected, when it came to Robert.
The gates closed behind her, and Mallory headed back toward Conroy. At first, she hadn’t been sure she liked the idea of having to sign what amounted to a confidentiality agreement, but she saw no harm in it. After all Robert Magellan had been through, it was probably a good idea, though she was pretty certain the idea had been Susanna’s rather than Robert’s. Mallory smiled and turned on the radio. It
Similar Books
