Page 27 of X's and O's
Except there was no way Paul Jeddersen had called Clean Sweep Cleaning Services on Sunday night to cancel his contract.
Because he’d been very much dead by that point.
“Does anyone but Violet have any questions?” Francine huffed.
The two other staff members shook their heads.
Francine waved them toward the door. “Go on then.”
They both got up and left without saying anything, and Francine switched her attention back to me. “Violet, it’s not the end of the world that you lost a client. Of course I want you to try your best to keep them happy, and first impressions count for a lot. But—”
I couldn’t listen to her babble another moment. “Could I please just listen to the message? Please.” And then I tacked on just so she didn’t think I was a complete nutjob, “It’ll help me understand where I went wrong.”
Francine shrugged a shoulder and pulled her phone from the top drawer of her desk. “I suppose I can’tbegrudge a woman the chance to better herself. I will warn you; this message is not something I would have normally played for an employee, but if you’re insisting…” She threw up her hands, like she couldn’t help if I was ridiculous.
I pressed my lips together, fighting the urge to roll my eyes, but Francine, perhaps in her early fifties, had clearly been brainwashed by boomer parents or the patriarchy, so comments like that were probably to be expected.
She scrolled through her phone for a moment, then hit ‘play’ on a voicemail.
“Ah, hello. This is Mr. Paul Jeddersen. I live on Olympic Drive.”
I froze.
Because it was most definitelynotMr. Paul Jeddersen.
But I recognized the voice anyway because it had been playing in my nightmares for the last two nights.
“I had the utmost pleasure of meeting one of your cleaning staff today,” X said. “She was very nice. Sweet. Sexy. Beautiful, actually. So incredibly beautiful she’s all I can think about—”
There was a noise in the background that cut “Paul” off.
Something that sounded a lot like someone elbowing him in the ribs.
He coughed once. “Sorry about that. I…might have had a tiny stroke. What I’m calling to say is that I won’t be requiring your cleaning services any longer. Your employee made quite a mess with some eggs… What?”
More background noises.
“Okay! Sheesh. I’m hanging up.”
There was a beep, signaling the message had ended.
Francine frowned at me like a disappointed parent, who’d caught their teenager making out with a boy on the back seat of his car. “Violet, I don’t appreciate you flirting with clients. And what mess did you make?”
If only she knew.
8
X
Her name was Violet Garrisen.
That had been easy enough to find out once I’d found the ripped shreds of her work uniform. All it had taken was a quick stop in at my parents’ house and a twenty-dollar bill pressed into my youngest brother’s hand as a bribe.
The little genius had hacked Clean Sweep’s database in under three minutes, handing me a Post-it note with Violet’s full name, address, and phone number.
“You want her bank details too?” Hendrix asked.
If I’d had any money to put in it, I would have, but my bank account was pretty much down to negative figures, so I shook my head.
