29 Reggie and Grace at Happy Time

The next morning Reggie rode with Grace to Happy Time for their screening interviews. This was weird because this was the very same temp agency her sister worked at some 11 years before for her first and last workday. They walked up to the receptionist to check in. She noticed her name. That she did not expect. This woman has been here how long?

"Are you Georgia Lass's sister?"

"Yes, I am. Did you know her?"

"No."

"OK. When will Ms. Herbig be seeing us?"

"Soon. You can wait right there."

"Right there?"

"Right there."

"Thank you."

"Your welcome."

The receptionist, Crystal was her name, watched everything they did. The waiting chairs were directly in her line of sight and she seemed never to take her eyes off them, and her face was frozen in one form, stone cold.

As the minutes dragged, she pulled out her handcuffs. Reggie liked to practice escaping handcuffs with anything handy that was small and slender enough to fit in the lock. She and Grace took turns working the lock mechanism under Crystal's stare. The woman didn't seem to have anything else to do. Both could unlock it on a first try even when locked from behind.

"Good morning, ladies."

They jumped and Reggie scrambled to put the cuffs away and they stood up. Reggie said, "Good morning."

Ms. Herbig said, "Let's see. You're Grace Hernandez. And you're Reggie Lass." She got that look on her face.

Reggie put it out there. Save small talk. "Yes, I'm her sister."

Ms. Herbig looked her over. Seemed satisfied and gave them a big smile. "How's your mother doing? I placed her several years back. Joy Lass I believe. At a law firm."

"She's fine. We appreciate your help."

"Well let's go back to my office and we'll get started."

They followed her to a large enclosed cubicle where she motioned for them to take seats. Reggie knew there was never any doubt about their getting through their screening tests and interviews here at Happy Time. Charlotte already recommended them both. And even the next level, the interview with her husband, Trip, at the club was not in doubt, although they knew they had to take it seriously. Charlotte had explained and this Ms. Herbig confirmed that the Montgomery Club was opening up a few jobs to more senior students at the university - to those who needed the work and could benefit from the exposure. Mr. Hesburgh volunteered to screen candidates himself. She had met him before, but never talked one on one. Reggie was up first, an interview later that morning with Trip.

She arrived well before the appointed time. This was the Montgomery Club and, as she expected, looked like the place was awash in money. Other than Charlotte she didn't know anyone who frequented the place and a job here would help her last year school finances and she hoped assure her getting into the police academy.

She was ushered into an office that looked used and it seemed to be his office and not just borrowed for the interviews. There were papers in stacks on the desk and real file cabinets. She expected this to be a conference room interview. She guessed he had more than one office, it was unlikely he worked full time from this Club. Maybe he volunteered here a lot. Trip was dressed casually, but looked serious. She knew from Charlotte and her brief encounters before that he in fact worked and often worked late. He didn't just sit on his money; he worked hard to grow it. And, the newspaper was a small part of what kept him busy.

"Hi. Reggie. Reggie Lass, please sit down." He glanced through the papers put together by Deloris over at Happy Time. She got the impression that he had already gone through them and was prepared. "Deloris has a lot of good things to say about you."

Reggie smiled, but that was not a question.

"By the way…are you Georgia Lass's sister?"

The verb tense seemed odd and she went along with it. "Yes I am. Do you know her?"

"I did. I…dated her for a short time. Once actually. I believe she mentioned you, too, but she didn't name you. How is she?"

OK, the verb tense collision moment of truth is here. "She died."

Trip's face betrayed a real ignorance of that fact. "When. I didn't know. Was it recent?"

"She died…a few years ago." This was technically true.

"I'm sorry to hear that and I'm sorry for your loss." Trip took on a melancholy air that she judged genuine and that was interesting. That must have been some date. "If you don't mind my asking, Mr. Hesburgh, when did you…meet her?"

He paused before answering. He knew she was friends with his wife, but she guessed this all happened some time well before he met Charlotte. She doubted that Charlotte had said much about Reggie and he probably never mentioned George and this date. There would be no reason. "Really I can't forget. It was a sad time for me. It was when my Dad died in an accident here at the Club. That same day I met Georgia inside the Card Room the one you passed by to get back here. We got to know each other over a few drinks. She was quite remarkable. Very funny and smart. But just outside next to the golf course, right after I introduced her to my Dad, he was killed in a freak accident."

His face showed he didn't care for bringing that memory up. She said, "I'm sorry to hear that." She waited a bit. "Did you ever see her again?"

He paused again. Now her instincts were kicking into overdrive. She could read on his face, not guilt, but a simple weighing of how much to tell. Something more happened and he wasn't sure how far to go given her known connection to his wife. She projected her best and most trusting demeanor. He made a decision and said, "Yes. She came to the reception for my Dad's funeral here at the Club." Now he got an amused look on his face. "She brought a scruffy looking guy with her. Totally ill dressed for this place. She called him 'her insurance' whatever that meant."

Reggie smiled knowingly. "That would have been Mason."

"Yes. It was." He smiled at the memory now. "Do you know him?"

"Not well, but I know who is."

"Well, he's a lot more clever than he looks. He is, or was, like her big brother."

Reggie had learned a long time ago that she could hear more by not talking. When Trip hesitated again she prompted him and asked, "How so?"

Again Trip considered, but he was warming to her, she could tell. "We had a little dust up with my sister, Ashley. Actually, she was not happy with me, and she took it out on your sister. And George left early. Mason came up to me after she left and passed to me one of her earrings, a very expensive earring. He said that she must have dropped it, and that I should return it to her."

Reggie smiled. Genuinely interested. "What? She didn't lose it?"

"No, not at all. Mason had both in his pocket. She told me later she had given both back to him before she left the reception. That devious…"

"So did you?"

"Return it? Yes, I did. I went to her house and gave it back to her in person." And then he stopped.

Reggie's mind was working ahead and could guess how this ended. She decided not to push it further. There was nothing to be gained in manipulating a confession on something like that.

"When did this happen?" Reggie asked with a smile.

"I can't forget. It was late summer of 2004 when my Dad died."

George died in June of 2003, but Reggie was careful to show nothing of that on her face. "And you didn't see her after that?"

"No. I didn't. So, Reggie. If you want this job here, it's yours, but…but I may have something more lucrative for you to consider." He picked up a folder from the left side of his desk.

Thank you George. "Sure. I'm open."

"OK, well. It's a bit different. I'm supposed to recommend to my sister and her husband, she married a Thomas Ferguson, one person to do a special job for them. It's probably no more than 10 or 15 hours a week, depending, and mostly on weekends."

Reggie listened. Again there was no question and she had no idea what this job could be.

"They have a small boy, Tommy, my nephew, and they need someone that they can trust, that we can trust, to take care of him and the house while they're out, and sometimes while they're in."

"It's sounds like a babysitting job."

"Well, it's more a combination of the boy and the house, and it's a big house. They have a lot of money and my sister is particular about who she trusts. There are a few servants, but they want both a companion for him and someone to act in their place while they're out." He could see the reluctance on her face. "They're paying $100 dollars an hour, and, whatever faults my sister may have, she'll not be stingy in counting the hours. I'll make sure of that. And they pay in cash."

Reggie could count. "Done."

"Great I'll set up the meeting with them. You'll be the only one I'm sending over. Can I contact you at this number with the time and address?"

"Yes, that'll work fine." Reggie got up to leave. They shook hands. As she got to the door, she thought of one more question, and turned back. He looked up. "Mr. Hesburgh…"

"Reggie, please call me Trip."

"Do you happen to have that address Mason gave you for my sister?"

He thought about that. "I think I do. I never throw away…" He looked into his database. "Yes, here it is." He wrote it down on a postit and handed it to her.

"Thanks." Reggie left smiling. The address was not all that far from her home. She thought about that. She stopped on the way through the drawing room and saw nothing unusual. She didn't know what she expected. But after a long hiatus when all signs from her sister were gone, the trail back toward her sister was warming up. This was almost too easy.