Death by Honeymoon

Chapter 15

Greerson was thrilled to hear from Cindy when she called.

“Meet me at five tonight, at the St. Regis lobby. There’s a lovely spot for coffee there.”

The lobby of the St. Regis was a wonderful place to collect herself. Cindy got there half an hour earlier and sat down on the plush red velvet sofas, waiting for Greerson to appear. Everything in the hotel was in perfect order, guests dressed elegantly, hotel attendants solicitous about one’s every need. There was a large, round, gold clock over the registration desk. Sitting here it seemed as if nothing untoward could ever happen, that all were taken care of.

Greerson entered dressed in a pin-striped suit. He was well dressed, prepared as usual. He greeted her warmly, and led her to the cafe behind the lobby. It was a perfect spot for coffee. Greerson ordered his coffee black.

“How are you, Cindy?” he put his hand on hers.

“Doing better,” she said and smiled. She felt comforted for a moment. For a moment she wondered why she had never liked him. Just passing feelings that meant nothing, she thought.

“We have a little gift for you,” Greerson said then, taking Cindy by surprise . “There’s a policy in the company that when there is a death of an employee, we offer the spouse a grievance check to help them get back on their feet. In honor of Clint and how much he meant to us, let us present this to you.”

He handed the envelope to Cindy. “I’m sure it will be a while before the insurance kicks in and everything else is taken care of. This will hold you nicely until then. You won’t have to worry, and can settle back into your life.”

Cindy looked at it. Ten thousand dollars. What was this, some kind of bribe? Some kind of payoff, to keep her silent? Was that was Clint’s life was worth? Ten thousand dollars?

Cindy let it sit on the table for now.

The waiter poured both of them cups of steaming coffee.

“So, tell me how your days are going?” Greerson said, lifting the cup to his mouth.

“Busy going through Clint’s files,” she said, “trying to understand everything.”

Greerson put the cup down. He didn’t like it. “What is there to understand?”

“All kinds of things,” said Cindy.

He paused, looking disconcerted. He cleared his throat.

“I hear that you’re sending emails to people in the company asking about this and that, as well.”

“I’m looking for answers,” she said bluntly, “about why Clint died.”

He picked up his cup, drained it. “Still with that? “

“It wasn’t a natural death.”

“You should be out unwinding, getting a massage, talking to friends, going back to your job.”

It struck Cindy that Greerson thought that by accepting the check, she would go along with the company’s plans and wishes, forget about probing further .

Greerson leaned forward, “Actually,” he said, “We have questions as well. We’d like to review some of Clint’s files ourselves. There are reports he was working on that we need now. Letters, documents, things like that. I’m sure you understand.”

Cindy understood better than he could ever know. They wanted his files. They probably searched for them and realized Clint had taken them off the company computer before he died. They must have thought he had hard copies stored at the house as well.

There was no way she was going to give them to him . “I’ll have to check with my lawyer,” she said.

“What lawyer?” Greerson looked surprised.

“My personal lawyer,” Cindy said lightly.

“Clint’s business files have nothing to do with you,” Greerson’s voice grew steely. “Actually, they’re company property. Clint worked on them while he was in our employ.”

Cindy smiled, “I’ll just have to check.” She was buying time.

Greerson’s face became drawn. “Are you going to make this hard for us Cindy? We don’t take well to playing games.”

It was clearly a warning. “I’m not playing games,” she said, “I’m just going step by step.”

Greerson reached out then and touched Cindy’s arm kindly. “I know this all must be overwhelming for you,” he said. “Why don’t you give us the name of your lawyer and we’ll work it out with him.”

Cindy blanched. There was no lawyer.

“Let me think about it,” Cindy said.

“What exactly is there to think about?” Greerson said, his eyes narrowing.

Cindy felt intimidated. He was setting up a deal for her, as he had done with Greg. But she wasn’t buying it. She had no intention of doing what Greerson wanted. Maybe the company did own Clint’s files, but she had a right to know what was in them first . It was her husband that had lost his life. She couldn’t let it all be for nothing.

Greerson looked at the envelope laying on the table. “There’s something you’re forgetting,” he said, sliding the envelope towards her.

She looked at it, then slid it back.

“That’s blood money,” she said coldly. “You can keep it.”

Greerson stared back at her, his eyes turning to ice.

He grabbed the envelope, got up swiftly, smoothed his suit, and without another word, turned and left.