At Last Page 7

  Dee pasted on a smile and moved toward the woman.

  “Hi, sorry Ms. Desrosiers isn’t available at this time. How can I help?”

  The woman swung around. She was about Dee’s height of five four, with a pretty oval face marred by thin lips, which at this moment were less then friendly.

  “Who are you?”

  The coarse voice made Dee shiver. “I’m Deirdre Lawrence, Ms. Desrosiers’ assistant. Pardon me, but who are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I do.” The woman sniffed, her snub nose obviously a problem, as it sounded like a pig’s.

  Dee looked over at Chloe who was grinning like a Cheshire cat and she tried not to laugh too. The sound had been amusing but then the woman probably couldn’t help that.

  “How is it that we can help you?”

  The woman’s tangled brown hair swung around as she glared at Dee. “I want to know where that she-devil Ager went. She promised my Milly marriage and I’m going to make sure she does, or I’ll want compensation from Desrosiers.”

  Dee’s stomach somersaulted, not because Christine had bedded poor Milly. For an intelligent woman she hadn’t been the most discreet over the years. There had been at least six women. The last rumor was about the manager of the local bank. Not surprising she left.

  “I’m afraid the company can’t be responsible for Ms. Ager’s personal affairs…Mrs.?”

  “Riggle, the name’s Riggle. If my husband finds out…well, I can tell you it won’t be a happy time for anyone. Especially her that runs this place. Bringing a woman like that here. I know my lawyer will make her pay.”

  The woman’s voice was increasing in volume at each sentence. Dee sucked in a silent breath.

  “Mrs. Riggle, I’m sorry that you have had to deal with this, but Ms. Desrosiers doesn’t know where Ms. Ager went. If she did, I’m very sure she would impart that knowledge to you.”

  Another snort. “Don’t give me that. Those people all stick together. She was probably screwing her too.”

  “No.” Composing herself she quietly added. “I’m sure that isn’t the case. Please leave your number with reception and if we find out where Ms. Ager is, we will inform you.” Dee’s heart dived at the mention that Gene might have been involved with Christine. No, it would have come out in the grapevine.

  Mrs. Riggle gave her trademark snort and muttered as she left the building.

  Dee didn’t move for a few moments and then sighed in relief. She turned and walked over to Chloe. “Well that was different.”

  “I think I know Milly. She was in my year in high school. A bit of a hard case…bully probably, but I don’t know that for sure. Didn’t know she was a lesbian. Can’t imagine her and Ager, but what do I know.” Chloe shrugged. “She’s wrong about Ms. Desrosiers…if it were true Christine couldn’t help herself but brag.”

  The words were comforting in a way since it indicated Gene might be open to a relationship with a woman, but it could all be fiction. Gene’s world was this place, and no matter what, Dee was going to try to help her keep it.

  “Dad and I have an appointment at eleven-thirty that is definitely real and important. When she arrives make sure she has the best coffee and cakes on the house.” Dee turned back to the door marked private. Her stomach was wobbling on so many levels she needed the haven, as Gene called it, of their lab.

  †

  Grady’s town center was actually quite pleasant. Blue-gray painted wooden buildings, probably used predominantly because of the logging in the area, were neat and tidy. Nothing was empty or neglected. The traffic, as Quinn found out yesterday, was busy. What was just outside or within an hour of this town that would generate the volume? Because obviously it wasn’t the perfume factory. Then like a dipstick she realized…the airport. Damn I’m such an idiot at times. Of course, it’s a gateway. She had a thought and frowned. Shouldn’t that help this town if the factory died? Not that she wanted it to but if it did. Could the town survive? Towns with less potential had survived, so why not Grady? One for Tay to consider when I tell her Sheila’s new plan. God damn that woman, she has no idea at times. If only Arnold hadn’t had that stroke, he would have considered other possibilities. Not Sheila.

  Quinn snuggled into her overcoat; there was that cold wind again. It made her want to retreat to the nearest coffee shop for a hot drink. She’d had that experience and, frankly, she knew she wasn’t welcome there. In a way it was her fault. Tay had often reproached her for her less than sympathetic attitude toward others’ plights except, of course, in the instance of a friend.

  Tay had been her first friend when Quinn arrived in New York fifteen years ago fresh from a business college with a master’s degree in economics. Tay’s mother had been the apartment manager where she found a rental. Tay was ten years her senior and, remarkably, had taken Quinn under her wing and they’d been firm friends ever since. Together they had gone through the trauma of her mom’s cancer and demise two years later. She had urged Tay to take a chance on love when she met a young soldier called Colin shortly after. Even agreeing, against her better judgement, to be maid of honor at their wedding a year later. Then holding Tay’s hand when she found out that he’d been killed in a friendly fire operation, though they didn’t find that out until six years later. Ruby had been born six months after Colin’s death—he hadn’t known Tay was pregnant. Life was never easy, and Tay had helped her see that, in fact the words she’d used this morning, because sometimes there are things worth saving that defy logic, resonated hard. Tay had said those very words to her after finding out Quinn had placed a mom-and-pop business into liquidation because she’d taken their largest customer away for non-delivery of goods…

  “Okay, Quinn, Ruby is in bed and will sleep through a tornado, thank goodness. Takes after her dad. He never woke when they had the jackhammers out rebuilding the apartment opposite.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know about that. I do know you want to ask me something, or is it just the usual that you live vicariously through what I do?”

  “Absolutely, I miss not working but—”

  “Ruby is worth it.”

  “Yes. So, what’s new in your world? Any juicy corporate intrigue?”

  Quinn shook her head and picked up the glass of wine and took a sip. “Do you know Shanks Leather Goods?”

  Tay frowned and then nodded. “Yes, my mom used to have our shoes fixed there.” She chuckled. “Old man Shanks used to give us kids a balloon when we went to collect our shoes. Nice man, his wife was great too. I remember there was always a treat for everyone. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, they defaulted on a big contract that I took away and I hear they had to liquidate.”

  Tay glared at her. “Did you find out why they defaulted?”

  “Not my problem. I get paid to have the product moving. So, what shall we—”

  “No, Quinn, no, that isn’t good enough. Don’t you have a heart? Forget that I know you do so tell me why you can’t use it for someone other than me and Ruby?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because sometimes there are things worth saving that defy logic. Please try to remember that.”

  Yesterday she had finally understood Tay’s words. Looking at the clock on the General Store’s wall, Quinn saw it was ten thirty. She wasn’t due for an appointment until eleven thirty at Desrosiers. What to do in the meantime? She spied a sign indicating a museum. What better way to research a town?

  †

  Gene stared at Charles, sure her mouth was open like a guppy.

  “They all agreed to ship us the materials?”

  “Yes, all of them.” Charles grinned, and Gene saw a beautiful set of white teeth.

  “How did you do that?” Gene stood, walked over to the man she had met the night before for the first time, and who had been her janitor until now. It looked like he was going to be the spark that gave her company another chance.

  “Well, I reminded them of the good standing Desrosiers had over th
e years and for many of them it’s almost as long as the company has been around. I figured they owed you a bit of slack.”

  Gene’s eyes widened. “They believed you?”

  “Nope.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “I told them that if they wanted to have their bills paid, they’d need to help Desrosiers produce product. No product, no sales, and therefore no money.” Charles shrugged. “The other explanation sounded better for you.”

  Gene didn’t know what to say. It was a short-term solution and right now she’d take anything. Maybe this tactic could be used with the bank, though she highly doubted it.

  “Thank you, Charles. Now I need to get together the information for the bank, and it isn’t going to be easy without Wendy. Maybe I’ll have Chloe call her and ask if she would come in for a couple of hours.”

  Charlie shook his head. “I found out last night that her fiancé has taken her to Yellowstone Park and they won’t be back until the weekend.”

  “There must be someone else who understands the order book.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “Papa really should have made me do this internship as Grand-mère insisted. I feel so useless and with so many people depending on me, how do I step up?”

  Charles placed a gentle hand on her forearm and smiled.

  “You have stepped up, Gene. You are doing everything you can to keep Desrosiers afloat. I think that you need to concentrate on making perfume—after we deliver the report to the bank that is. Why your accountants didn’t flag that you were in big trouble is strange. They might have told Ms. Ager, but she obviously wasn’t one who relayed bad information to you.”

  “I don’t even know who the accountants are. Christine changed them about two years ago. She said the previous accountants were old fashioned. My father employed the Grayson’s when he set up the business. I liked them.” Gene sighed heavily.

  “Gene, you own the business…if you were happy with your accountants you should have stuck with them.” Charles shook his head.

  “Christine was convincing that we needed new blood for a new era.” She closed her eyes, realizing how weak her words sounded. I was weak and allowed my business to flounder and didn’t have a clue.

  “I’m sure she was. Look, don’t worry about the past, let’s look at the future. Is there any way you can inject more money into the business?”

  Gene considered the question carefully before answering.

  “I have my house, and I do have a couple of other properties where we grow our most prestigious roses.”

  “Really, so why is the bank after you? Doesn’t make any sense.” He rubbed his chin. “Let me get as much info as I can on your sales order book.”

  “I promised that woman the sales and debtors ledger by lunchtime.”

  Charles laughed. “Hey, lunchtime goes from 11am to 3pm depending on circumstances.

  Gene laughed. She liked the man. He wasn’t obviously buoyant, but insidiously his enthusiasm came through and made her believe.

  “Then shall we call it two this afternoon?”

  “Yes, we shall, Ms. Gene Desrosiers.”

  “I love making perfume, Charles. I actually believe it’s why I’m on this earth.” He frowned. “Don’t worry, I’m open to having other distractions.”

  Gene shook her head as she watched Charles leave. She’d have to find way to convince the Sutter woman that patience is a virtue and it could pay off. She suspected there was fat chance of that. Quinn Merchant hadn’t come across as a soft touch. Gene left the office and headed for the production lab…Larry might have the sample ready.

  †

  Max slumped down in the chair opposite Alice. The café was quiet with only three customers who had all been served.

  “Busy morning?” Alice asked quietly.

  “Not really, just the usual crowd, well except for Charlie and that Quinn woman.” Max scrunched up her face. “You will never guess. He and Quinn won the quiz last night and, blow me away, they gave us the trophy. He said they played for our team. What do you make of that?”

  Alice didn’t quite know what to make of it. “I guess we have free drinks behind the bar when we go in at the weekend. But that isn’t why you look…upset.”

  Max shook her head. “What did Megan want? She hasn’t given us the time of day for at least a year.”

  “I know, but this isn’t about us or them, it’s about Grady and Desrosiers.”

  Max’s cloudy expression lightened in interest. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  Alice repeated the information Megan had given her and noted that Max listened intently but for once didn’t interrupt, which was something she was renowned for.

  “Darren comes for lunch tomorrow, why don’t we ambush him and tell him what’s going on. I know for sure he wants to run for mayor again and the vote is in three months. He’ll be unbeatable for years if he helps to keep Desrosiers alive in Grady.” Max became animated as she spoke.

  “I love you, Max. Don’t ever forget that.” Alice reached across the table and took a fidgeting hand in hers.

  Max gave her an intense stare and Alice’s body became suffused in a warm glow. “Mutual, my love. Does this mean we have to attend a family function by any chance? Because other than Dee, I’m not exactly the flavor of the month.”

  Alice chuckled. “Thank goodness, I only want you to be my flavor of the month, in fact every month for every year.”

  Max blew her a kiss. “Got that in spades, my dear.”

  The bell above the door announced a new customer.

  “Later.” Max winked and moved away from the table. “Hey, Steve, you’re early?”

  “Yeah, no work again at the factory. I’m beginning to think there’s a problem. I’ll have my usual, Max.”

  “Got it, Steve. Take a seat I’ll bring it over.” Max glanced at Alice and smiled.

  †

  Her phone was ringing incessantly with the Titanic flute ringtone that made Quinn cringe as the curator of the museum gave her a sharp look. Quinn was reminded of her fourth-grade teacher who really hated her.

  “Sorry.” Quinn retrieved her phone and looked at the number. It was Sheila.

  “Hi, Sheila, what can I do for you?”

  “Have you the merchandise?”

  “Well no, I’m due to have a factory tour in…well ten minutes. I might be a bit late. Then an appointment at lunchtime with the owner and hopefully the product will be available.” Even she wasn’t convinced of the last words she spoke.

  “Quinn, don’t let me down.” The call ended abruptly.

  “Okay, I’ll do my best.” She muttered to the blank screen, placing it on mute, then back in her pocket. Thank god Sheila doesn’t like video calling.

  Walking over to the reception area and the curator, she smiled. “There’s lots about Henderson Logging but not much about Desrosiers. Why is that if you don’t mind me asking?” The curator was a woman probably in her seventies, probably working for nothing more than that she might meet people to talk to during the day.

  “We do have an extensive history of the Desrosiers family here, but it’s in the annex. This is new history, well at least less than fifty years old. I can show you where.”

  “Sorry, I wish I could but I’m due at the factory in about five minutes and I’m going to be late. Thank you. If I have the time before I leave, I will take you up on showing me where.”

  The woman nodded. “The Desrosiers family brought culture to Grady and the area. It’s a little like our own piece of European royalty.”

  Quinn wanted to know more but knew that the factory was at least a twenty-minute walk away. Damn I really should have taken up the rental car Sheila arranged.

  “I may definitely be back for that titbit. Thank you. Sorry I didn’t get your name.”

  “Sara Rally. My forebears have lived in this area for over two centuries.”

  Quinn nodded and left the building, pretty darn sure she wouldn’t have the opportunity to hir
e a taxi to help her out of her timing dilemma.

  Chapter Nine

  “Hi, how can I help?” Chloe smiled warmly at the visitor.

  “I have an appointment with a Felix Lawrence. I’m Quinn Merchant.”

  “Ah yes, Ms. Merchant. Dee told me to tell them as soon as you arrived. May I fetch you a coffee or something to eat?” Chloe’s fingers tapped in a number on her phone keypad as she asked.

  “No,” Quinn replied shortly, “but thank you.”

  “Hi, Felix, Ms. Merchant is here to see you.” Chloe’s expression remained impassive as she listened to Felix. “I’ll call Dee immediately.” Ending the conversation, she looked at the tall woman in front of her.

  “Felix is just tied up for a few minutes. I’ll call Dee and she will be with you shortly. If you want to take a seat?” Pointing to the chairs near the window.

  “Who is Dee?”

  “Oh, Deirdre Lawrence. She is Felix’s daughter and Ms. Desrosiers’ right hand in the research lab. There isn’t anything she doesn’t know about creating a perfume, second to the boss that is.”

  “Okay.” Quinn wandered over to sit on one of the chairs.

  Moments later Chloe connected to Dee.

  “Hey, Dee, your visitor is here. You didn’t tell me she was drop-dead gorgeous.” Chloe chuckled. “Well you will be seeing her soon enough. I’ve checked the register for this afternoon and she has an appointment with Ms. Desrosiers at one and it’s eleven-fifty. She’s a busy girl.” Chloe frowned and glanced at the visitor. “Dee is there any truth in the rumor that Desrosiers is about to close down? Sure, we can catch up after work. I’d say Maxali’s but…sure, five thirty work for you? Great, see you in a minute.”

  Once more Chloe glanced at the woman in the room with her. Did Quinn Merchant have the power to help or hinder the company? Maybe she’d find out later.