Company Inc: 2Nd Editon: Who’S Trying to Kill the Company Shrink? 2Nd Edition

By Rebecca Bass

Rape, murder, stalkingnot in the violent streets of a seething metropolis, but in the corridors of a major corporation in a sleepy Southern setting. A novel twist adds a contemporary feature: the perp is an untreated victim of childhood sexual abuse at the hands of his parish priest, a factor that becomes central in the final resolution. Company Inc is a mystery, a Whodunit. Someone is out to get Jack Enright, who runs an Employee Assistance Program for SEPCO, a large southern multi-state electric utility. The story begins with Enright becoming involved in the case of an employee who was raped; she charges she was raped by a top company executive at a company function! In the course of trying to arrange help for the woman, Jack discovers that the executive has been transferred to corporate headquarters out of state; that various people connected to the situation are being stalked, and one actually killed; and that his own status with the company is threatened. Finally it becomes clear to Jack that it is his very life that is being threatened. After the second attempt on his life, Jack and his wife are forced into hiding until the new company head offers Jack a separation with a large severance package. Believing they are no longer threatened, they take a final romantic trip to their favorite oceanfront fishing area, only to have the murderer follow them in one last attempt to kill Jack. The story comes to a horrific bloody climax, and only then does Jack discover the reality of his peril.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493158744

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Rebecca Bass.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2013923444

ISBN:      Hardcover   978-1-4931-5873-7

                Softcover    978-1-4931-5872-0

                eBook         978-1-4931-5874-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 1/3/2014

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

The phone rang just after one thirty in the morning. Ellen always slept soundly when Jack was on the road, and she answered it only after the third ring. The woman on the phone was sobbing. I need to speak to Jack Enright, she said. Ellen turned on the light and grabbed the pad and pen on the right table. This is Ellen Enright, Jack’s wife. Jack isn’t home. I can take a message for him, or I can give you the number at his motel.

There was more sobbing from the woman on the phone.

Talk to me, miss. Are you in danger? Please talk to me. Ellen waited.

The bastard raped me, the other woman sobbed.

Ellen took a deep breath. She wondered how Jack dealt with these situations so well. Although there weren’t many after-hours calls, the ones that came in the middle of the night were always about some crisis, some serious trouble.

Is he there now? Are you away from him? she asked.

I’m bleeding. He beat the shit out of me.

Tell me where you are. I can call for help. I’ll call the police.

No! No police.

Ellen wasn’t a counselor, but she sensed that the woman was going to hang up. Just a minute, just a minute, miss. I won’t call the police. I promise. There are other people who can help. Please don’t hang up. Is he still there? She knew she had to keep the woman on the phone.

He’s gone. The door is locked.

Where are you?

You’re going to call the police, aren’t you? The other woman snuffled.

I’m going to call Jack. I told you I wouldn’t call the police. If Jack is going to help you he has to know where you are.

I’m at the Silver Sands in Whalebone. Room 1733.

Ellen wrote as fast as she ever had. "Listen, miss. There are people who could help. There’s a rape crises group on the island…

No. No, I won’t talk to them.

But they could be there in a matter of minutes. The man might come back. You could still be in danger. You need medical help now.

Bay won’t be back. He’s gone.

Ellen had done as much as she knew to do. Listen, Miss… .

Jell. My name is Annette Jell.

Listen, Miss Jell, be sure your door is locked. I’m going to call Jack just as soon as I hang up. If you don’t hear from him in five minutes, call me right back. Will you do that? Will you call me back?

Yes. Annette was calmer.

OK. Recheck your door and I’ll call Jack.

Ellen broke the connection and found Jack’s number at the motel and dialed the number. The phone rang seven times before the desk clerk answered.

She heard the buzz. Jack was a light sleeper.

Jack? It’s Ellie.

Ellie? What’s wrong?

Nothing’s wrong here, honey, but you’ve got some business. A woman named Annette Jell called. She’s at the Silver Sands in Whalebone. Someone raped her and beat her up. She’s in room 1733.

Oh, Jesus. Just a minute, Ellie.

She heard him rustling for paper. What’s the room number again?

Room 1733.

How did she sound, hon?

She was crying a lot. She said she was bleeding. I told her I’d call the police for her, but she almost hung up on me. She wouldn’t consider the rape crisis people.

You did good, Ellie. I’ll take it from here. Did she know the man?

Ellie looked at her pad. She hadn’t written it down.

Jack. Let me think. She cursed herself for not writing it when the woman said the name. Jack, I think she mentioned someone named Bay.

Bay? Oh, shit. Listen, honey, I’ll take it from here. Bring the dog inside and check the doors. I’ll be in tomorrow sometime. I’ll call as soon as I get a chance. Thanks for taking the call. I hate it that you get stuck with that. I love you, Ellie.

I love you too, Jack.

Putting on her robe she turned on the patio lights and walked outside to the kennel. Moon, the big old yellow Lab was asleep. Some watchdog you are, Ellie told her as she waited for Moon to urinate. A robber would have to go into your kennel and kick your doghouse to get you to bark.

Moon wagged her tail and rubbed against Ellie. She knew she was going to get to go inside the house, a real treat. She ran across the patio and waited for Ellie on the back steps. Pushing her way past Ellie she sat in front of the refrigerator and looked up hopefully.

Not tonight, Moon. I’ll get you a nummie in the morning. Moon looked at the refrigerator again. Go to your room, Moon, Ellie told her.

Moon bolted through the dining room and the hall and was in the bathroom before Ellie got to the light switch in the kitchen. She turned on the light in the bathroom. Moon had already helped herself to some water from the commode, as the droplets of water on the floor attested, and was busy rubbing herself on Jack’s towel.

Moon had always loved to rub herself on Jack’s towel. She rubbed herself back and forth making little grunting sounds in her throat. Ellie knew the next part of the ritual, and it always made her laugh. Moon sneezed. She put the lid down on the commode to keep Moon from drinking any more water. Moon was getting old and her bladder control was getting tenuous. Ellie pulled Jack’s towel from the rack and spread it on the floor for Moon.

The dog lay down on it immediately and gave the towel a perfunctory rub with her neck and sneezed again. Ellie patted her head and turned off the light. She felt better about being alone in the house now that Moon was with her.

She sat cross-legged on the bed for a while and watched TV, flicking the channel changer from station to station. Nothing interested her, but she was too anxious to sleep. She turned off the light in the bedroom just before dawn and lay there thinking about Annette Jell and the pain she must be feeling.

As soon as he got off the phone with Ellie, Jack called room 1733 of the Silver Sands Motel. He heard the person at the other end pick up.

This is Jack Enright, he said immediately.

Mr. Enright, this is Annette Jell. I’ve been raped.

Ms. Jell, are you in danger at this moment?

No. He’s gone. My door is locked. Annette Jell started to cry.

Listen, Ms. Jell… Annette, I’m not too far from Whalebone. I can be at your motel in about an hour. Would you like for me to get you some medical help?

I told your wife, no police.

I’m not talking about the police, Annette. I could call an ambulance or get some medical help to your room.

No, no, don’t do that. I don’t want a bunch of people running in and out of here.

Would you come with me to a doctor if I came to get you?

There was silence on the other end of the line. He wondered if she would hang up. We have to get some medical help for you, Annette he said calmly. We can talk about where you want to go when I get there.

OK, she said.

Your door is locked?

Yes.

If you need to talk to someone, you have my home phone number. My wife is there. Call her if you want to talk to someone. Will you do that, Ms. Jell?

Yes.

Jack called the desk at his motel. I’m going to be checking out immediately, he said. Could you have my bill ready?

Sure, the clerk said sleepily.

Jack stuffed his clothes into his bag and took it and his briefcase to the company car. He signed the American Express slip at the desk and was driving toward the freeway in less than fifteen minutes.

He kept his speed down on the road to the freeway. He knew that the police in the little jerkwater town would have a deputy or two sitting in cars in some supermarket parking lot. Nothing would give them more pleasure then nabbing one of the cream-colored cars with the red zigzag stripe down the side that marked it as a SEPCO vehicle.

On the freeway he pushed the speed limit a little, hoping that the state patrol would be involved elsewhere.

He got to the Silver Sands just after two-thirty. He started to drive up to the front door to park under the chi-chi concrete awning, but thought better of it and drove to the door on the side, parking in front of the steps. Walking quickly back to the front door, he strode purposefully past the desk clerk and a maid in secretive conversation and pressed the elevator button for the seventeenth floor.

Thinking again, he walked back to the desk and motioned to the clerk that he wanted to use the house phone. The clerk nodded and dialed 1733. He heard the phone picked up.

Ms. Jell? It’s Jack Enright. I’m downstairs.

OK, she said.

I’ll be right up.

He walked down the hall of the seventeenth floor and found her room and tapped on the door. It’s Enright, he said.

The door opened and she looked outside. She closed it again and he heard her remove the safety latch.

He stepped inside and even in the dim light escaping through the half-closed bathroom door he could see that blood was still oozing from her lip. He was impassive.

Ms. Jell—Annette—we have to get you some medical help, he said.

He pushed open the bathroom door and saw that her left eye was swollen shut. She walked past him to the basin to rinse a bloody bath cloth and press it to her lip. It won’t clot, she said. I can’t make it stop. Tears welled in her eyes.

That’s why we have to go to the hospital, Annette. Your lip might need a stitch.

What am I going to do about all these towels? She was beginning to sob. Most of the blood came from here. She turned and showed him the back of her head.

There was a goose-egg on the back of her head that had split from the force of a blow. Her hair was stiff and plastered to her neck.

He got my eye first, she said. When he hit me in the mouth, I fell and hit the commode. He… he did it here on the bathroom floor. She nudged the towels with her foot and looked away from him.

Jack wondered if she had a concussion. Annette, I’ll take care of the towels. I’m going to call Trent Memorial and tell them that we’re coming. We have to get you some help now.

I can’t go downstairs looking like this. Everyone will see me. Everyone will know. Tears ran down her face again and she brushed them away with her knuckle.

It isn’t even 3 o’clock yet, Annette. No one is downstairs except the desk clerk and he’s half asleep. There’s no one to see you. We’ll go down the elevator at the end of the hall and out the side door. I’m parked right there.

Jack’s tone was conversational and matter-of-fact. He walked into the bedroom and turned on the lamp beside the phone.

She followed him and stood looking around the bedroom. Oh my God, my things! she moaned. I have to pack my things.

Annette, I can come back for your things while the doctor is checking you out. Don’t worry about your stuff. We have to get you some medical help now.

He flipped through the phone book to the yellow pages and found the number of the hospital. I’m Jack Enright. I’m with the medical department of SEPCO. One of our employees has an emergency and I need to speak to a doctor.

The woman at the phone had handled much paperwork for SEPCO and knew the company’s benefits. They were good payers.

Just a moment, Mr. Enright. I’ll get a doctor, she said.

Jack sighed and waited. It was a small hospital. Since it was off season at the beach he knew the chances were good they wouldn’t be busy.

The phone clicked. Dr. Sawyer here. The voice said.

Dr. Sawyer, I’m Jack Enright. I’m with SEPCO’s employee assistance program. I have an employee here who needs medical help. Could you see her in the emergency room?

What’s the problem, Mr. Enright?

She has contusions. Her right eye is swollen closed, her lip is split and she has a wound on the back of her head. She might have a concussion.

Bring her on in, Mr. Enright. Should we have a social worker here?

What?

Was she raped, Mr. Enright?

You’ll have to talk to the woman about that, Dr. Sawyer. Perhaps she could use that service, though.

I see. We’ll be ready for you when you get here.

Jack picked up a pair of sunglasses and a beach hat and handed them