Don Bruns - Stuff to spy for

“Until we’re done.”

“Which is when?”

We’d be done in four or five days. The Sarah thing should be done at the end of the month. “Three, four weeks tops. Em, I’m not interested in her. It just seemed so innocent, and-”

“You’re helping Sarah destroy a marriage. You’re helping her break up this Sandler Conroy and his wife. Am I right?”

“Well, I think the marriage-”

“Am I right?”

“Yes.” How could I argue that point.

“How did she ever get involved with this guy?”

I said I was making a clean confession. That isn’t exactly true. I was leaving out a certain part of the story. I figured that Em would buy most of the story. The hooker part, I wasn’t so sure about. “Dating service. Once she found out he was married, it was too late. She was hooked.”

“Skip,” she looked into my eyes, and I knew she was going to agree, “you fall into some of the strangest situations.”

“Em. Let me finally break even. I’m going to make over twenty thousand dollars. Do you realize that I’ve never had that much money at one time in my life?”

She nodded. This beautiful, sexy woman who probably made over $100,000 a year, she got it. She couldn’t argue with me. I knew it.

“So I’ve got to pretend that you’re dating someone else?”

“No. It’s a couple, three weeks, Em. That’s all. And it stays inside the company.”

We both still had a full plate of food. I thought that confiding in Em would make me feel better. Instead, a partial confession only made me feel worse. I could feel a burning in my stomach, and I couldn’t touch another bite of food.

“I’m not happy about it, Skip.”

“I didn’t expect you would be.”

“What if I told you I’d leave you because of this?”

“Would you?”

She sipped on her glass of water.

One of the servers stepped out from behind the buffet counter and headed toward the restroom. He turned to look at Em. A lot of guys do. As he turned and stared, he slid on a spot of grease and fell hard on the tile floor. Em never even noticed, and I immediately thought to myself, a lot of people had taken a fall for Emily. She just shrugged it off.

“Well, would you? Leave me?”

The server picked himself up, made a point of looking the other way, and continued toward the restroom.

“I should.”

“Don’t.”

She slid out of the booth and stood up. “I won’t.”

I let out the breath that I’d been holding.

“But this stays at Synco Systems, right?”

“It does.” My cell phone rang, “Born in the U.S.A.” blaring from the little black box.

“Hello.”

“Skip Moore?”

I couldn’t place the voice, and I didn’t recognize the phone number.

“Yes?”

“You represent the company that is installing a security system at Synco Systems?”

“I do.” I smiled. I was the point man for big jobs.

“And you’re dating Sarah Crumbly?”

I glanced up at Em, standing there, waiting for me to come out of the yellow vinyl booth and walk her to her car.

“Well-”

“I need to talk to you. As soon as possible.”

The female on the other end sounded very businesslike.

“And you are?”

She hesitated. “I’m Carol Conroy. My husband is Sandler Conroy, president of Synco Systems, and I think you need to know some things about the death of Ralph Walters.”

“M onte Carlo. Have you ever been there?”

I hadn’t been out of the state of Florida. Travel had been pretty much out of the question. My mother didn’t have any money and neither did I. I dreamed about traveling, and I knew where Monte Carlo was. I saw it on a Discovery Channel show one day.

Sarah looked into my eyes, and I felt a cold shiver. I looked away. I kept repeating to myself, hooker. She’s a hooker.

“I won like two thousand euros in the Casino. It was so cool. I mean, much more class than Vegas, you know?”

I had no clue.

“It’s this beautiful old building with ornate chandeliers and thick carpet. And just like in that James Bond movie, Casino Royal, guys wear suits and tuxedos and a lot of the women have formal dresses.” There was a faraway look in her eyes. “Sandy promised me we’d go back once this project is done.”

Casino Royal was filmed on Paradise Island in the Bahamas. But I didn’t tell her that. And, as far as ever going to Monte Carlo, or the Bahamas for that matter, well, I couldn’t even imagine.

“And Cannes, Skip. Sparkling blue waters, quaint stucco buildings with orange tile roofs that descend like stair steps down to the ocean. During the film festival. Oh, my God, I met Adrian Grenier from Entourage, and we saw Angelina and Brad, and Daniel Craig. And, Skip,” her eyes got big, “we sat front row to see U2, and then went backstage. I mean-”

It was almost more than I wanted to hear. Em had never done half of those things, and she could afford them.

“I met Bono. Bono, Skip. He kissed my hand.”

Now it was getting tiresome.

“And Sandy leased a yacht that went on forever. I don’t know how big it was, but you could sunbathe totally nude on the deck and nobody batted an eye.”

What? I would bat an eye. Among other things. Who talked like this? Who experienced this kind of lifestyle?

I cleared my throat. “You did?”

She flashed me a shy smile. “Uh-huh.”

I tried to picture that.

“Honest to God, Skip, I never thought I’d do anything like that. And then he asked if I’d like to work here at Synco Systems. Well, you can imagine it would have been very hard to say no.”

Duh. We were sipping coffee in the break room. I’d taken Jim Jobs through the building, and, surprisingly, he’d understood everything. He’d even made some suggestions regarding placement of some of our hardware. He’d left in what James affectionately called the Jim Jobs mobile. Now, Sarah and I were talking. Our first “date,” and I kept thinking how happy Em would be.

“Have you ever met Carol?”

I didn’t know what to say. I had an appointment with Sandler’s wife in a couple of hours, but I didn’t feel it was a good idea to tell Sandler’s girlfriend. And I wasn’t about to tell my girlfriend. The whole thing was so sordid.

“No.”

“I have. Several times. I was invited to a cocktail party at their house just last week.”

“You visited their house?”

“She’s a bitch.”

“He told you that.”

“She’s with him for status. That’s all. And I think she keeps an eye on Sandy for her daddy.”

And Sarah was with Sandler for the money.

“Anyway, it will soon be over. Once Sandy gets the money, he’s promised me we’re out of here.”

She was a year younger than James, Em, and me. And her financial future seemed to be set. Maybe James had been right. If I’d been born a good-looking blonde girl, I might have sold my body and my soul to be in her shoes. Then again, maybe not.

“By the way, can you park your car in front of my condo tonight?”

“Sure.” James was going to pick me up and drive me back to our dingy apartment.

“Sandy seems to think his wife is suspicious of me.”

Suspicious? From what Sarah had told me, Carol Conroy could have enough evidence to kick Sandler out for good.

She slowly stood up, letting me admire her figure in a short red dress that pulled tight at her chest. “God, I hope he gets his paycheck soon.”

I hoped I got mine soon. What had started out to be a really good opportunity was fast becoming a nightmare.

“Then, I’ll see you tonight.” She paused for a moment. “Well, I’ll see your car. She gave me that soft smile. Sarah reached down and touched my hand giving it a gentle squeeze.