Vineyard Blues by Philip R. Craig Page B

next stop: Ben Krane’s office. It was as good a time as any to beard the lion in his den.
    Krane Associates was housed in a white-fronted building just off Main Street. I didn’t know who the associates might be, but the business offered expertise in the law, real estate, estate planning, and other matters. Ben personally had his hand in all of these enterprises, and for all I knew, he might have had a whole team of experts working for him. When I went into the office, however, I was met by a single receptionist. According to the name card in front of her computer, she was Judith Gomes.
    Judith gave me a pleasant, professional smile.
    â€œHi. May I help you? My, what a darling little girl!”
    â€œMy daughter, Diana. Yes, she is a cutie, if I do say so myself.”
    â€œI’m sure you’re very proud of her! Now, how may I help you?”
    I sat down. “My name is Jackson. I work for your boss. I want to talk with you about him and his work.”
    Her smile disappeared faster than your lap when you stand.

—  13  —
    Judith Gomes was instantly careful, almost hostile. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, Mr. . . .”
    â€œJackson. My friends call me J.W.”
    â€œI’m afraid I can’t help you, Mr. Jackson. I have nothing to say about Mr. Krane.”
    I studied her face. Judith looked a little fragile behind her apparent anger. “Did he tell you to say that, or are you just being a loyal employee? If he told you to say it, you tell him that I’m no longer working for him. If he didn’t, then it’s you who may not be working for him.”
    But Judith turned out to have more spunk than I had guessed. “I haven’t spoken with Mr. Krane, and I have no intention of speaking to you either. Please leave this office immediately.”
    Is there anyone more valuable to a boss than a loyal secretary who will fend off the dogs and keep the family secrets?
    I felt a little smile run across my face. “I think you should ask Ben for a raise,” I said. “Meanwhile, if you can get in touch with him, I suggest that you do that right now. He asked me to work for him this morning and gave me carte blanche to do things my own way, including talking to you and anybody else who works for him. You, naturally, don’t believe that, so why don’t you pick up that phone and get the word from the horse’s mouth.”
    Her jaw was firm. “Mr. Krane is not in his office. I don’t know where he is. I’ll speak to him when he comes in.”
    Feisty Judith. “He’s probably got a beeper on his belt like all the other businesspeople in the world,” I said. “Give him a buzz.”
    She was stubborn. “I don’t think so, Mr. Jackson!”
    I bounced Diana on my knee. She was cute. Playing with her and her brother was a more appealing prospect than tracking down an arsonist. “In that case,” I said to Judith Gomes, “when you finally do talk to Ben, tell him about our conversation and inform him that I’m not working for him anymore. Tell him I’ll return his check if he’s already mailed it.” I got out of the chair. “Good-bye. I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again.” I started for the door.
    â€œWait.”
    I paused and looked at her. Her brow was furrowed as she was pricked by the famous horns of a dilemma: in her case, whether to risk offending her boss by calling him, or risk offending him by not calling him. Her hand seemed to want to go to the phone on her desk, but . . .
    I decided to help her out. “Look,” I said, “if he hasn’t told you about this deal with me, you’d be stupid to take my word for it. Be smart and call him. If he faults you for that, he’s more of an idiot than I think he is.”
    â€œIf you’re telling the truth, I would have heard from him already.” But the brow remained