Page 32 of The Burnt
“Up late?” Charlie asked.
Declan shifted a bit and winced. “Didn’t you get my text? Since you weren’t here, I stayed late at Bar-None last night.”
Charlie smiled. He hadn’t received the text. Declan had probably typed it and forgotten to press ‘send’.
Declan hoisted himself up on one elbow. “I’m beginning to think that place might not be good for me. I’m getting too old for bar life.”
“You’re notthatold,” Charlie said, snuggling up to him. “It’s just a hangover.”
Declan hoisted himself around and landed his feet on the floor. His body was now wrapped in the top sheet making Declan look like he was wearing an ill-fitting toga. He stared groggily at Charlie.
“Here,” Charlie said, passing him the smoothie. Declan had a long sip on the straw and sighed.
Charlie scowled. “I have no idea what’s in that, but it made me gag when I tried it.”
Declan looked at him in disbelief. “You sipped from my straw?”
“Yeah. And it tastes like ogre snot.”
“You should never sip from another guy’s straw.”
Charlie was amused. The guy who could fish a dead body out of a swamp—or so Charlie had read in an early news report—was actually grossed out by sharing a drinking straw. “You’ve never complained about me putting your things in my mouth before.”
“But…it’s my straw…”
Charlie rubbed Declan’s back. “Well, then don’t use the straw. Coffee’s on the counter. I’m heading downstairs to tidy up. Mrs Beckerman comes in today and I want everything perfect for her.”
Charlie leaned over, gave Declan a kiss on the head then headed back down the stairs. He went to the car and retrieved his personal laptop, then returned to his desk where he spent the next thirty minutes getting it to talk to the office’s Wi-Fi and printer. He’d have to ask Declan if they had money to buy him a new work computer now that Mrs Beckerman would be using the other one. Charlie also didn’t have a phone for his desk. For now he could just use his cell phone. What if Mrs Beckerman got a call for him? He programmed his cell number into the main office phone on her desk so she could easily transfer any calls. She probably had her own way of doing things, but since she’d been away, he had implemented a number of changes tothings like passwords and security codes.He wondered if she’d approve. The more Charlie thought about Mrs Beckerman’s return, the more nervous he became.
As if on cue, she walked into the room. She was bundled in a winter coat and carried a large, black bag, looking like a very serious Mary Poppins.
“Good morning, Charlie,” she said in a perfunctory voice, then headed into the kitchenette.
Mrs Beckerman returned without her coat. She was wearing a dark-grey business suit. “First things first,” she said as she dropped her bag onto her chair, then reached in and pulled out a large handful of magazines. She marched toward the coffee table. Charlie realised too late that he’d forgotten to deal with the stack of files. She fanned out the new magazines, then picked up the old ones along with the files. She strode back to her desk, dumping the outdated periodicals noisily into the recycle bin. “There,” she said, with a determined look on her face. “Better already.”
As she set the files down on her desk, she looked toward where Charlie was sitting. “I see you’ve been busy. Very nice-looking office you’ve made for yourself.”
“Uh, thanks. Can I get you a coffee?” he said, standing up and moving toward her.
“Thank you, Charlie, but that won’t be necessary. Fetching coffee ismyjob now.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.”
She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a mass of loose electronics cables. She held them out to Charlie.
“Sorry. Let me take those,” he muttered.
Mrs Beckerman closed the drawer and began to adjust the chair to suit her. Charlie resisted the urge to explain how the chair worked. She looked up. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Oh, sorry. I just thought, if you had any questions…”
She gave him a withering glance.
“I’ll just be over here if you need anything.” He slunk back to his chair and busied himself on his computer. He pulled up the report on the Simon Griffin interview and reviewed his notes.
“Charlie?”
Charlie jumped. Mrs Beckerman was standing at his desk. How could she move so quietly?
