Voted Out Page 5

  As recruitment officer, Amanda should have been dealing with the guy, but it appeared Gloria had placed her trust in her instead.

  Hard-pressed to feel flattered by the vote of confidence, Liliane confronted the man with a stern gaze. “Well, I guess the guy at the campaign office skipped that part, didn’t he? We’re not training you unless you’re working, and we’re not paying you until after you worked. It’s that simple.”

  The man growled. “Listen, buttercup, I was told your trainer has hooters bigger than Juicy Candy, the stripper at Teasers. I need the fifty bucks to buy her a drink.”

  Buttercup? And hooters? They ran electoral training sessions, not nipple tassel workshops.

  Disgusted by the adjectives, Liliane pointed her screwdriver at the boar. “I suggest you leave before I call the cops. They’ll love arresting you for soliciting and threatening an election officer.”

  The guy held her gaze for what felt like an eternity. Then he abruptly backed away and stormed out.

  “Maybe we should have a security guard in the office in the evening?” Gloria extended a shaky hand. “And maybe you should give me that pink screwdriver before you’re tempted to stab the next visitor?”

  “Good idea.” She didn’t mean to threaten the guy, but acknowledging it could have been perceived as such, Liliane relinquished the potential weapon. “When you have a chance, could you please make a list of the security agencies in town and bring it to me in my office? I’ll call them first thing in the morning.”

  Aside from Election Day, her budget didn’t include any money for extra security. She could make a request for additional funds to Headquarters and wait for their approval before hiring a guard. With any luck, she might receive an answer before the end of the election period.

  Or I can make the request, hire the guard, then seek forgiveness later. That sounded like a more efficient use of her time. Meanwhile she needed to have a talk with Jasmin about the new mandatory dress code coming into effect now.

  Chapter Five

  ~Keep calm & plan revenge.~

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  Eyes closed, Liliane extended her hand toward the night table. She touched the smooth and cold surface of her iPhone, but then it slipped from her fingers and landed with a faint thud before she had a chance to push the snooze button.

  Sweet chocolate.

  By the time she found it under the bed and killed the alarm, it would have awoken her daughter had she not vacationed across the ocean.

  “Sorry, handsome.” She intended to creep out of bed, not deprive him of an extra hour of sleep.

  At this rate, he might reconsider staying with her and move to a hotel to get some rest. He’d come home around midnight after chasing corroborating evidence. His obvious frustration at his lack of success had resembled hers although Liliane knew better than to ask him for details. It had taken an hour or so before they worked the tension out of their bodies. In the end, the strong and steady beating of his heart against her ear had lured her into dreamland.

  When she didn’t hear anything, she reached out to feel for him. “Handsome?”

  Expecting warm flesh, she was stunned to encounter crumpled sheets and her nightgown rolled into a ball. She bolted into a seating position. The early morning sun filtered through the blinds.

  He’d left behind his fading scent, the indentation of his head into the pillow next to her, and the elusive memory of a soft kiss.

  I guess it wasn’t a dream.

  A strong invigorating scent wafted into the bedroom, teasing her nostrils. Hoping to catch him, and hug him before he departed, she slipped on her nightgown and ventured into the kitchen. Her laptop lay on the kitchen table with a sticky note pasted to the top.

  Good morning, sweetkin

  I hope I didn’t wake you. I’m off to check a lead. If I can, I’ll go see you at the office and we can have lunch, but no promises.

  I made coffee just for you. Have a great day. Love xox

  Love. In the heat of passion, he’d whispered the words.

  Her sigh of contentment was muffled by the chime of her iPhone. She glanced at the screen and smiled. The number added another bright touch to her magnificent morning. The tip of her finger throbbed in anticipation as she touched the green circle to accept the call.

  The cheerful face of her daughter filled the tiny screen. “Hi, Mom. Miss me?”

  Always. “Sure I do. I’ve hardly had any laundry to do since you left. I’m bored.” It felt great to tease Ariana.

  Thursday morning at dawn, Liliane drove the two young adults to the bus station in town, then Ariana and her travel companion rode the bus all day before arriving late in Winnipeg for their night flight to Paris, France. Only five days had passed, still it felt like an eternity.

  Her daughter had been accepted to the University of Winnipeg in education. At the end of August, she would move on campus, roughly seven hours away from home. Liliane needed to get used to the idea she wouldn’t see her only child for weeks at a time.

  Her daughter chuckled. “Aren’t you working or painting?”

  “Yes, I am.” Too much of one and not enough of the other. The small blank canvas resting on an easel in her studio beckoned Liliane to quit her election job.

  Dillon, her daughter’s trustworthy travel companion, waved beside Ariana. “Hi, Ari’s mom.”

  “Hello, Dillon.” Pleased to see with her own eyes they looked happy and safe, Liliane waved back. “How’s the trip so far? Are you having fun in Paris?”

  “The trip is amazing. We’re having lunch in a small café before heading to the railway station to catch our train for Amsterdam.” Her daughter exchanged a quick look with her companion. “Mom, do you have time to talk before you leave for work? Dillon and I would like to run something by you.”

  “I’m in no rush to go anywhere.” As finance officer, she could afford to show up late for work where as a mother, she couldn’t miss the opportunity to chat with her daughter. “Let me put you on the kitchen table so I can grab a bagel and a cup of coffee.”

  ~ * ~

  Though the young travelers remained secretive about their reasons, Liliane consented to their request of organizing a family supper upon their return in two and a half weeks and inviting Jasper, Dillon’s dad.

  While many ideas swirled in Liliane’s mind, none made sense unless one of their children intended to make a major life change.

  She drove into the office’s parking lot mid-morning, ninety minutes later than usual, but she didn’t care. Talking with Ariana and Dillon had put a few things in perspective. The position of finance officer was a job, a temporary job, not a personal crusade or a life and death situation. She needed to do her best, but not lose sleep over the results.

  The number of parking spaces alongside the building sufficed for the election staff and the few electors coming in and out every day, but during their training sessions, workers ended up parking in front of the dumpster and on the sidewalk. So far, the bylaw enforcement officers had turned a blind eye to the infractions and Liliane hoped they continued. She would hate for a disgruntled employee to barge into her office with a parking ticket and ask her to pay the fine. No money was allocated in her budget for parking infractions.

  As she locked the door of her car, Liliane scanned the lot but didn’t see Nathalie’s blue minivan. On most days, her friend had already arrived by this time. An uneasy feeling churned her stomach. When she drove by Nathalie’s house last night, the windows were dark, the garage door was up, but the minivan was neither in it nor in the driveway.

  Concerned for her friend, she entered the lobby. “Morning, Gloria.”

  “Good morning, Liliane.” The receptionist stood to present her with a sheet of paper. “The contact numbers for the security companies. I didn’t want to slip it under the door in case someone else stumbles on it.”

  As Liliane read between the lines, one name popped into her mind. “I take it he sneaked into my office again?”


  Gloria sat back in her chair. “I heard a door open and close in The Catacombs while he ventured in that neighborhood. Since neither you nor Nathalie were in, I figure...you know.”

  That he entered one of our offices. It scared Liliane to imagine which one he targeted. And why. “Have you seen or heard from Nathalie this morning?”

  The election office phone rang. Gloria shook her head in her direction as she picked up the receiver. “Election office. Bureau des élections. How may I help you? Comment puis-je vous aider?”

  Liliane walked into her office. At first sight, nothing on her desk appeared misplaced, but she couldn’t help thinking it felt like she’d stepped into a bad mystery novel where everyone died at the end.

  Seated at her desk, she placed the sheet Gloria gave her on her keyboard and pulled her iPhone from her purse. First things first. Before hiring a security guard, she needed to check on her friend. She wrote a short text message.

  I’m at office. Where are you? Are you ok? Need help?

  After sending the text, Liliane used her election Blackberry to call the three security companies in town. The third company gave her the cheapest quote, so she booked an evening guard starting tonight right away.

  Nathalie’s reply came in while Liliane checked her emails.

  Hospital with Connor. Broken wrist. Long story. No work today. See you tomorrow at gym @ 5:30 a.m.

  If Liliane recalled correctly, Connor was Nathalie’s youngest grandson. How grandma ended up at the hospital with him was a mystery Liliane would unveil bright and early tomorrow.

  The urgent email she received an hour later from the finance department at Election Headquarters rubbed her the wrong way.

  As returning officer, Thomas possessed a government credit card he used for electoral purchases. Outside the election period, he was responsible to submit his own financial reconciliation to Headquarters, but during an election, the responsibility fell upon the finance officer.

  A week ago, Liliane had requested his receipts so she could reconcile his monthly credit card statement. He’d refused to hand them over, insisting he’d already dealt with it.

  I can’t believe I took him at his word. Now they blamed her because the reconciliation wasn’t submitted in time. Her aversion for the man reached a lethal level.

  Knocks on her door interrupted her database search for the monthly statement. “Come in.”

  Gloria stepped inside. “Sorry to bother you, but there’s a couple in the lobby who would like to vote by special ballot.”

  Eligible electors were allowed to come in anytime during business hours to vote, so Liliane failed to grasp the problem. “And?”

  The receptionist’s face twisted in an apologetic grimace. “Ahmad left the office before you arrived and he’s not back yet.”

  What? Liliane hired three special ballot coordinators, and though she allowed them to build their own schedule, she ascertained they understood the necessity of covering all the shifts. Asking why Ahmad walked out wouldn’t serve any useful purpose at the moment, so she bit her tongue.

  In the absence of a coordinator, the returning officer, or his assistant, held the authority to assist any electors, though Liliane doubted Leonard had been trained. “Who’s in? Thomas or Leonard?”

  Gloria rolled her eyes. “Neither.”

  Of course none of them showed up to work. What was I thinking asking another stupid question? “I’ll take care of them, but when Ahmad gets back, I want to see him in my office. Right away.”

  The coordinator had better have a good excuse or explanation, or else today would be Ahmad’s last day in the office.

  A young couple waited in the lobby. The woman supported a huge belly with both her hands. Afraid she might deliver her baby before she had a chance to vote, Liliane invited her to enter the special ballot office first.

  The beefy man accompanying the pregnant woman followed, but Liliane stopped him before he crossed the doorway. “One at a time. It won’t be long.”

  Puffing his chest, he glared. “She’s my wife. It’s my job to tell her who to vote for.”

  Your job? No polite adjectives could begin to describe the husband—or how Liliane felt about his statement. “Your wife will vote here. Alone. That’s the rule. You, on the other hand, are given two choices. Sit in the lobby or at the police station. What will it be?”

  Liliane never bluffed, and with the disastrous morning she’d endured so far, she didn’t feel inclined to make an exception for this misogynistic prick.

  ~ * ~

  Its name and the color of its facade had changed a dozen times in Thomas’ lifetime, still the cheap motel at the edge of town had been part of the landscape for as long as he remembered. Six months ago, Yvan Chartrand, the new owner, had renamed it Aurora Inn and approached Thomas to revamp the interior and exterior in a bid to attract a more respectable clientele.

  Being the owner of the biggest construction company in town presented obvious advantages. Thomas could make or break deals, outbid his competitors, and add private clauses to any contracts without consulting or sharing the details with anyone. When Chartrand asked him for a quote, not only did Thomas give him one he knew would match his closest competitor, but he also offered a five percent discount in exchange for a free room.

  Chartrand had jumped at the opportunity of hosting Thomas’ visiting clients or representatives. Though Thomas alluded to such arrangements, he never intended to use the room for business purposes. His personal enjoyment came first, and the new Aurora Inn was the perfect place to indulge his vices in secret. Thomas had made the deal and accepted the room key without dispelling the owner’s erroneous assumptions.

  You better wait for me in the room at the end of the building, baby doll.

  Unlike most rooms in the motel, the one Chartrand assigned to him featured two exits. One door connected with the inside hallway while the other—the one Thomas opened—led into the parking lot located behind the building.

  Rose, a twenty-year-old aspiring actress, bolted into bed. Her smile and her breasts perked up without assistance—unlike his wife’s—and her silver sandals added a touch of sophistication to the lilac transparent negligee he bought her on his last trip out of town. “You’re late. I have a class tonight, remember?”

  Women who showed genuine interest in him were showered with expensive gifts and granted generous allowances. While he never regretted his human investments, Thomas also never forgot the things he paid for. In Rose’s case, it included summer tuition and private acting classes.

  “Don’t worry, baby doll. You’ll be out of here by 4:00 p.m.” He sat at the edge of the bed. Sex wasn’t the principal motive behind their meeting this afternoon, though he aimed for a quickie before dismissing her. “I need you to make a few phone calls for me.”

  “Why?” Her long black hair brushed the sheets as she crawled toward him. “Can’t your secretary make them for you?”

  “No.” From his pocket, he retrieved an election cell phone he borrowed from the inventory room. “This is a secret role-playing game and she’s not an actress.”

  Thomas couldn’t risk asking anyone but Rose. Aside from being gorgeous and talented, the girl loved money. Hefty payments would ensure her silence. Rose was already listed on his company payroll as a ghost employee, but to increase her allowance, he added her as a revising agent and forced Sophie to sign her timesheet.

  The snowstorm that blanketed their corner of the woods at the end of March would remain ingrained in Thomas’ brain as a curse and a blessing for a long time. Rose had sent him a message and he’d checked it as he ventured into his youngest son’s garage to borrow his snow blower. He never expected to see his son Jeremy in the garage early in the morning, let alone on the hood of his truck banging a married woman while his wife slept in the house.

  With his phone in his hand, Thomas had berated them for carrying out an illicit affair. Jeremy was a mama’s boy. Thomas’ wife had always pulled her youngest son ou
t of the stickiest situations without making him face the consequences of his actions, but that time Thomas put his foot down. He threatened to expose them if they ever saw each other again. Both assumed he’d snapped a photo when in reality he wouldn’t have dared. His daughter-in-law might not be a bombshell, but she possessed an explosive temperament. If she were ever confronted with proofs of her husband’s dalliance, Thomas didn’t doubt she would move back to Newfoundland and take his only grandson with her. While both his sons displayed poor taste in women—Thomas didn’t care for either of his daughters-in-law—he didn’t want to lose little Tommy.

  He was pleased to have had the foresight of hiring Sophie as revision supervisor. Fear and blackmail proved to be powerful tools. In order to keep her husband from learning the truth, Sophie would ensure Rose receive adequate compensation from his electoral budget for all the services she provided him.

  Time to take care of Liliane.

  ~ * ~

  In the last few days, Liliane had come to associate knocks on her door with problems, the correlation growing higher by the hour. The latest knocks raised the hair at the back of her neck.

  She glanced at her iPhone. 12:39 p.m. Her stomach growled. Maybe she should go out for lunch—and never come back. “Come in.”

  Damien walked in with two brown bags and a thin envelope tucked under his arm. “Hungry?”

  The logo of the fast food restaurant from across the street caught her eyes and the smell enticed her taste buds.

  “Starving.” Eating greasy hamburgers in her office wasn’t what she had in mind for lunch, but it would appease her stomach. She pointed at the chair folded against the wall. “Have a seat.”

  Her guest placed both bags on her desk, but kept the envelope. “I wasn’t sure what you fancied, so I bought hamburgers, chicken burgers, fries, garden salads, and apple turnovers. Serve yourself.”