“How could you?” Jo’s voice cracked.
“You don’t understand. It’s not what you’re making it out to be. If you’ll just listen to me for a minute.” Carla was pleading. Her voice rising with hurt at the accusation coming from her boss.
“Susan has laid it all out plain as day. I don’t and WON’T hear your excuses. Excuses are like assholes: everyone has one and they all stink.” The venom in her voice stung Carla to tears.
“Susan is telling only part of a story. You’re filling in the rest with suspicion.”
“You are scrambling.”
“You’re attacking me. What else would I do? You’ve put words in my mouth, finished half my sentences with your accusations and settled it all right there in that self righteous head of yours.”
“You’re pathetic. How dare you turn this on me. You took what wasn’t yours. You’re simply playing victim.”
“You’re so Hell bent on believing this, the truth doesn’t matter.”
“Then why are you still talking?”
Carla gasped and gritted her teeth. Susan had played this very well. She had manipulated people, lied and stolen from the company for months. Carla couldn’t get the paper trail assembled quickly enough once she’d suspected her. Now, she was going to lose her job, her respect and all for something she’d not done. Carla felt devastation fill her chest like water. She was drowning.
“You may resign.” Jo broke in. “It will look better, but may I suggest you look a little further than me for a reference.”
“Trust me Jo, your lack of good judgment here means I’d be better off with the Devil himself.”
“So I’ll say it with a clear conscience: Go to Hell.”
Carla smirked. “Race ya.”
She left the business she’d lived and breathed for more than a decade. With each step she reminded herself to stand tall, breathe deep and bite her tongue to keep the tears back. She snatched her keys and purse, marching to the parking lot.
Susan leaned casually against her desk.
“Leaving early?” she purred.
“Yes , Susan. I am.” Carla could feel blood rushing to her cheeks. Never before had she wanted to jump and punch someone until their bones and flesh were applesauce. “So this is what hate feels like.” She thought angrily.
“Kay, we’ll miss ya Sweetie.” Susan chewed her pen cap fighting a smile or maybe a laugh.
“Bet you will since I’m the last patsy. It will all fall on you now.”
“Don’t be so sure.” She grinned.
“That’s one thing I can say confidently. I’m not sure of anything anymore.” Her voice cracked but she kept moving.
Wistfully Susan sighed and headed to her boss’ office; such a shame: theft from her friend and collegue. It had been a tough decision to show Jo all that proof and even harder to get it all together; but things happen for a reason. It was time for Susan to shine and head for phase two.
Jo stared out the window. Her head throbbed. God she wanted a drink. Several in fact. The knock was soft but it thundered in her ears. She closed her eyes and winced. “What?”
“I’m sorry to bother you Jo. I just saw Carla leaving. Is everything alright?” She stood with a folder clutched demurely in her hands. Her eyes were big and full of concern.
“Not now Susan.”
"You’re right, of course. I’m sorry. But you should know, as hard as that was, you did the right
thing. You had no choice. You simply had to let her go.” Her voice was silky and reassuring.
"Who said I let her go?” Jo turned to see the color drain from Susan’s face. She thought she heard her teeth smack together.
“Oh. I just thought…” she sputtered.
“Like I said Susan, not now.”
“Of course. You’re right. I’ll just check back later.” She quickly closed the door avoiding her for the rest of the day.
Which dragged on for Jo. Had she done the right thing? Had she done it right? She played it back in her mind and it always seemed that it was. Susan had shown her the trail she’d found. Susan had seemed embarrassed to bring it to her attention almost afraid. What would Susan benefit from making this crap up about Carla? Jo made herself dizzy arguing in circles.
At last, she could take no more. She swiped up her bags, clicked off her computer and stalked out the door. She wasn’t that angry, but she gave the impression so people stayed out of her way. She slammed her blue Mercedes into gear and zoomed off. She needed to think.
The road drew out in front of her. She could smell the beginnings of Autum: sweet damp leaves, the panicky last blooms of flowers. She noticed mums began to appear on the lawns as well as cornstalks and pumpkins. She felt her mind begin to slow and relax. The sun dipped below the horizon as she pulled into the parking lot of Bucky's. Not having anyone to go home to, she was in no rush to be alone with her thoughts. She’d had enough of them for one afternoon. She sat at the end of the bar and ordered her usual. Steven brought it and they small talked as they had done often over these last several years. He could tell she was upset and brought her another martini. They seemed to disappear faster than normal. She kept it light and impersonal which suited him better. The night crept along. Having prolonged the inevitable and seeing it was almost nine, Jo dragged to her car and began the last leg home. Night seemed to swallow the turns on Little York Road, but it was better than that racetrack Mulberry. She hated that road and refused to travel it if at all possible. Fatigue crawled in behind her eyes, making them burn. She stepped on the gas. Suddenly, she just wanted to be home in her bed to hide like a little girl under the covers. She wanted to forget all the nastiness, the anger, the doubt. She wanted a great night’s sleep to erase. Jo let her mind drift.
The dog appeared, dashing from the hedge at the side of the road stopping only to stare at her headlights. Jo screamed , closing her eyes and mashing the brake pedal. The car pulled, brakes thudding like thick machine gun fire: duh-duh-duh. The air sizzled with spitting gravel and panic. She smelled burlap and hot sawdust as the airbag deployed. The engine kept grinding. It took her several minutes to remember how to shut it off. Then there was only the sound of crickets and night. A few tree frogs peeped concern for the lady in the big metal box. Jo reached in and plucked a flashlight from her glove box and got out to survey the damage. Rocks crunched under her feet as she felt her way up to the front. There it was: a crease down the hood and along the grill, a broken headlight. Dammit. She’d hit the hedge line pretty hard. She clicked her tongue and leaned in to get a closer look. She groaned. Turning to go back, she tripped.
“What the…” she stepped back and crouched low to see better.
On her knees, feeling her insides begin to twist; she saw it; or him. A work boot stuck precariously from under her car. She bent forward and tugged it, hoping it was empty; just a stray lonely shoe at the side of the road. It was sticky; heavy.
“Oh my God.”her hand went to her mouth to stifle the scream. “Mister?”
Tears began to stream down her face. Her hands shook. At the sight of him, she turned her head and vomited. Unless he was seven feet tall, she’d cut him in half. Blood soaked the ground making horrible mud.
“I-I-I’m sorry.”
Nothing.
“Help me.” Her voice quivered.
Stillness.
Her eyes sliced through the darkness to find a solution or help. She looked both ways as her mind switched gears. There was no one.
