minimum merit increase every year, I want to earn it.
‘ Troy.’
‘ Troy& ?’
‘ Troy Jones.’
My brows furrowed as if I were trying to place the name.
‘ Troy Jones the traffic reporter for K-JAM radio,’ she snipped. ‘ You said you called him and that you were going to follow up because he hadn’ t called you back.’
This was another one of those times that I felt sorry for her. I couldn’ t imagine trying to supervise an employee who was so pathologically passive-aggressive. But that’ s what she gets for getting to me before I had my first Diet Coke of the day. And for being Lizbeth.
‘ As a matter of fact, I did. He said he needed to look into it, and he’ d get back to me.’
Her face lit up. ‘ Did it sound hopeful? Maybe I’ ll call, too. Give him a bit of a-’
‘ He has to check with his boss,’ I said hurriedly. ‘ He likes the idea, but it’ s a sticky situation& office politics and whatnot. I got the definite impression that he would have a problem with it if we applied pressure.’
Lizbeth nodded, told me to keep her posted, and left to do whatever nefarious bidding was next on her agenda.
As soon as she was gone, I collapsed with relief. That’ d teach me to try to be clever. Because fact was, everything I’ d told her was true: I had called him, and he’ d said he needed to check into it and get back to me. Only the ‘ it’ had nothing to do with being a spokesman for L.A. Rideshare. I hadn’ t even brought up the subject.
‘ It’ was trying to find out who Buddy Fitch was& and what he might have done to Marissa.
That alone required supreme finesse. I had called Troy to thank him for sending the yearbooks. Then, while I had him on the line, I asked nonchalantly if he knew of a Buddy Fitch. Of course he asked why. Although I tried to stall him off by alluding vaguely to the list, I could tell the curiosity was eating him alive.
‘ One of the items on the list says, Make Buddy Fitch pay,’ I finally admitted. ‘ But I don’ t know who he was or what he did.’
‘ It says to make him pay?’
‘ Yeah.’
‘ Boy, it’ s weird to think my sister would write something so vengeful. It doesn’ t sound like her at all.’
‘ It doesn’ t?’
‘ Not Marissa. If she was that pissed off, then this guy must really have it coming. He must have-’
‘ Troy, I’ m sure it was nothing bad,’ I interrupted, hoping to shift his train of thought, at least for now. If the idea that Marissa was the victim of any sort of cruelty was going to get planted in his head, it wasn’ t going to be me with a shovel in my hand and dirt under my fingernails. ‘ Maybe he played a friendly practical joke on her and she wanted to do something funny back.’
‘ Yeah& maybe,’ Troy said, his voice skeptical. ‘ So he wasn’ t in any of the yearbooks?’
‘ Nope. That’ s why I was hoping you might be able to ask around for me. I thought he could be a family friend or someone she worked with.’
‘ Okay. I’ ll ask my parents, and I’ ll try calling her old boss. I’ ll let you know as soon as I find anything out.’ Then he added apologetically, ‘ It could take a while, though. I’ m swamped at work right now-the station’ s got some big fair coming up, and I’ ve been roped into helping out. How fast do you need this?’
‘ No hurry. I just need to have everything done before her birthday, so we’ ve got time.’
‘ Not that much time. Just over four months left.’
I understood the warning underlying Troy’ s words. As far as he knew, I’ d been working diligently on completing the list since the accident last July and not merely since I’ d seen him at the cemetery six weeks ago. By his calculations, then, my time was half-over rather than only just beginning.
‘ Well, I didn’ t want to pressure you,’ I said by way of explanation.
‘ I just don’ t know how long it’ s going to take to find this guy. But I really meant what I told you before. Anything I can do to help I’ m glad to.’
If ever there was an opening for me to make Lizbeth happy and ask Troy to sign on as a spokesman for my company, this was it. Yet I couldn’ t make myself do it-not after he’ d just told me he was so busy. Not while I was already asking him for another favor.
Instead, I merely thanked him, and even when he asked me directly if there was anything else he could do& anything at all, I demurely declined.
It didn’ t matter anyway, I assured myself. The traffic reporter project was yesterday’ s news. I sat at my desk, having escaped Lizbeth’ s scrutiny earlier that morning, and was secretly making plans for the gas giveaway. Granted, I still hadn’ t gotten a go-ahead from Bigwood-which meant S.C. Electric hadn’ t yet said yes-but I felt certain it was going to happen. I was in the midst of pondering whether I’ d have the nerve to call them myself when Bigwood’ s secretary, Phyllis, strode into my office.
‘ You’ re late,’ she said in her road-gravel voice.
‘ Late? For what?’
She crossed her arms, which were twisted with muscle. Phyllis terrified me. Between her leathery skin, broad frame, and salt-and-pepper hair that she kept pulled back in a bun, she gave every indication that the rumors that she used to ride with the Hell’ s Angels were true. ‘ The directors meeting started at ten. Everybody’ s already there.’
I was invited to a directors meeting? Me? This sort of thing never happened to anyone here, much less me. If any of my predecessors went to a directors meeting, they never made it out alive because I’ d sure never heard about it.
