Chapter 66
619 Words
Greg made a choking sound.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, shall I?” He pressed down and Greg’s face turned red. “Shall I?”
“Y – y – yes,” Greg choked out.
“OK, good. So. As I was saying, as the former head of Olivia Jameson’s security detail, you’ll have all the information on her stalker readily available to hand over to me, the new head of her security detail. Isn’t that right?”
Greg nodded.
“And you’ll be very pleased to give me all of that before I go. Correct?”
Greg nodded again. He was now turning a strange color of purple.
“Hey, man,” Chris observed. “Maybe let up. Just a touch.”
Dallas leaned back slightly and Greg sucked in some air. “So, me and the boys will be out in the waiting area, enjoying a cup of coffee with Cordelia – who you really should treat more nicely, by the way – while you gather all the intel you have. I want it all, Wallace… every note, every e-mail, every record of every single f*****g text and image that sick prick ever sent her. Times, dates, places. Anybody you talked to and suspected; anybody you even considered maybe talking to and suspecting. Everything. Am I being sufficiently clear?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah what?”
“Yeah, I’ll get it all to you. Twenty minutes.”
Dallas removed his arm. “Perfect.”
****
It was less than seventeen minutes later that Greg emerged from his office with several folders, a floor plan of Olivia’s house, and half-a-dozen USB drives. He almost threw it all at Dallas.
“That’s everything,” he said.
“Thank you so much,” Dallas said. “Olivia asked you to please send her your final invoice and she’ll settle it immediately.”
Greg glowered and left the room without another word.
The men nodded at Cordelia and she got to her feet. “Mr. Foreman?”
“Dallas, hon.”
“Dallas.” She hesitated. “If you ever need a PA or receptionist experienced in personal security, maybe you’ll keep me in mind?”
He paused. “You looking to change jobs, Cordelia?”
She nodded.
“Can’t blame you, really,” Chris said. “He’s not very nice, is he?”
She shook her head. “But I get medical here, and my son is very sick. I – I’ve been looking for something else, but most places don’t offer the right kind of insurance for our situation.”
“What’s wrong with your son?” Jim asked softly.
“Cancer,” she said. “A brain tumor.”
That stopped them. After seeing what Emma was up against with her leukemia, they had a whole new understanding and appreciation for what that illness did to people – both the patients and their loved ones. They looked at the gray streaks in her dark hair, the shadows and lines around her brown eyes.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dallas said. “Maybe you can come by on Monday morning for an interview?”
Cordelia started. “Really?”
“Really.” Dallas gave her his card. “Ten o’clock?”
“Yes… yes, thank you.” Her eyes were teary again. "And if you see Liv, please tell her how glad I am that she’s OK.”
“Maybe you can tell her yourself, Cordelia,” Dallas said. “She’ll be at my office on Monday, helping us to get up-to-speed on her stalker situation.” He grinned. “With a bit of luck, you’ll be working with her again soon.”
- Writer
