Weekend Warriors (Sisterhood #1)(40)
“What type of business are you in, Miss Walley?”
“Bottle caps,” Kathryn said, looking around at the pictures of La Fond in various poses on different motorcycles. The room was like a shrine. To himself.
“Bottle caps?” La Fond echoed.
“Bottle caps. All bottles need caps. It started as a hobby. You know, collecting all kinds of caps. Then one day I got this idea and voilà! The company was born. We grossed twenty-three million last year and we’re still in the embryo stage.”
La Fond sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes greedy. “I can always find the time to take on a budding enterprise. Why don’t we schedule you for, let’s see,” he said scanning his appointment book, “a month from today. How does ten-thirty sound?”
“That sounds just fine.” She ran her fingers through her Orphan Annie wig and smiled. A month from now, you bastard, you won’t even remember this office exists. You’ll be too sore to even look at those pictures on the wall. She was up and off her chair with her hand on the doorknob before he could plough his way across the room. She noticed for the first time that his belly hung over his belt. There was no way she was shaking hands with this grotesque man. She walked through the doorway. “Is there a charge for this visit?”
“No. I’ll bill you when you come in the next time. Have my secretary write out an appointment card for you. Actually, my secretary is my wife. I don’t have to pay her a salary!” He laughed to show how smart he thought that was.
“Really,” Kathryn said as she eyeballed the woman behind the desk. Myra would know to the penny what the woman had paid for her outfit. Straight off Rodeo Drive, if she was any judge. No shortage of money here, she thought. She stared at the woman’s cleavage as she accepted the appointment card she handed her.
Two down and one to go.
In the car, she removed the green jacket and slipped into a long burnt orange lightweight coat. She looked around the parking lot to see if anyone was watching before she peeled off the Orphan Annie wig and plopped on a Tina Turner job. She adjusted the spiky, strawlike hair in the rearview mirror. She actually looked good in it. She hummed the words to “Proud Mary” as she turned on the ignition. Before she drove out of the parking lot, she scanned the map in her lap.
She had to backtrack and then head north for one mile, where she was supposed to make a left at the third traffic light. She closed her eyes, memorized the route and the landmarks. “Okay, Mr. Sidney Lee, you’re next.”
Thirty five minutes later she was seated across from Sidney Lee. It was hard to tell what he was, other than a fast-talking insurance salesman. Swanky offices with rich paneling, good furniture, Berber carpeting, trophies out the kazoo and a clear polished desk. She couldn’t make up her mind what nationality he was. He could have passed for Greek, Italian, or maybe even Jewish. But there was a cast to his eyes that said he had some kind of oriental blood in him. He went by the name Lee instead of Sid or Sidney. Strange.
“So, Miss Darnell, my secretary, tells me you want to buy some insurance. Well, you came to the right place. What exactly do you have in mind?”
“Well, Mr. Lee, the past five years have been extremely lucrative for my partner and myself. My accountants tell me I need to buy some Keyman insurance for both of us. He suggested ten million each to protect us, should anything happen down the road. We each want to take…oh, excuse me, my phone is ringing.”
Her heart beating trip-hammer fast, Kathryn realized something somewhere had gone awry. Her hello was cautious. She listened.
“Kathryn, Sidney Lee is not going on the ride. He canceled out this morning at eight-fifteen. He didn’t give a reason.” Kathryn continued to listen to Charles’s instructions, her heart fluttering in her chest. She turned away so Sidney Lee couldn’t see her frightened expression.
“Really, Shelia. I’m at Mr. Lee’s office now. Yes, I can do that. If you can hold on a minute, I’ll ask him. Mr. Lee, by any chance can you find the time in the next ninety minutes to meet with my partner and myself at the Beverly Hills Hotel? We really want to sign off on these policies today, since Shelia is leaving tonight for England. We can pay the whole year’s premium right up front and you can send the paperwork to our office later on. Do you see a problem?”
Lee’s face contorted, making him look more oriental. “Ninety minutes isn’t much time. Today doesn’t seem to be my day. I had to cancel a motorcycle benefit run for charity today.” Kathryn watched him, knowing greed would win out in the end. She felt like cheering when he nodded.
“Yes, Mr. Lee can make it.” She frowned as she listened to Charles telling her he’d reserved a villa under the name of Shelia Star, supposedly her partner’s name. “Villa number eleven. Tell him you can do business on the patio if he balks at being in a room with two women, which I don’t think he will, but just in case. Now listen carefully to the directions in case he wants to follow you. Try to avoid that scenario.” She listened, her trucker’s mind filing away the directions. “I’ll see you in a bit. Yes, I’ll tell him.”
Kathryn fought the urge to spit on the piece of scum standing in front of her. “I have a stop to make before I head back to the hotel. I’ll meet you there. We’re in villa eleven. We can sit on the patio and have drinks and lunch if you have the time. I hope that’s satisfactory. I really have to run.”