Cast into Doubt

TWENTY-ONE

Shelby sat calmly in the waiting area outside of Elliott Markson’s office. She had stopped by her apartment, and she was properly dressed for her own termination. A well-known designer had once told her that navy blue was the color of power, and she had taken that suggestion to heart. She had on one of her very favorite suits, a Ralph Lauren, with the faintest pinstripe, and some heels that were rather higher than she might normally wear. They would at least put her at Elliott Markson’s eye level. She tapped one foot idly, and pretended not to notice the delay. Finally, the intercom on his secretary’s desk buzzed.

The secretary turned to Shelby. ‘You can go in now,’ she said.

Shelby went to the office door, took a deep breath, turned the knob and strode in. She knew he would be seated, watching her, and she met his gaze without flinching as she crossed the large, paneled office and put a hand on the chair in front of his desk. The desktop was virtually empty, with no photos, awards, or even art objects to give any clues about the man behind the desk.

‘May I?’ she asked.

‘Please,’ he said.

Now that she sat and really looked at him up close, she realized that Elliott Markson was not as young as she had previously thought. He was probably about her age. He had gray at his temples, and she noticed reading glasses sitting on his desktop.

‘You wanted to see me,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ he said. He placed his elbows on the desktop, and steepled his hands in front of his face. Automatically, Shelby noticed the excellent quality of his suit and shirt. ‘First of all,’ he said, ‘how are you doing?’

Shelby was briefly taken aback. For a moment she thought he wanted her to let her guard down. She wasn’t about to. ‘Fine,’ she said.

‘How about your grandson?’ he asked.

This question surprised her. But she was not unnerved. ‘He’s doing well. Thank you for asking.’

Elliott Markson waved a hand as if to dispense with the platitudes. ‘Now, Ms Sloan, I know that you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. But it came to my attention recently that you engaged our head of security to investigate your daughter’s death. This was, essentially, a private matter.’

Shelby was not about to start making excuses, or protest that Perry had insisted on using company time for the job. She waited.

‘And this is the sort of misappropriation of company time and funds which is no longer going to be tolerated here at Markson’s. The culture at Markson’s has to change in order for the business to survive. My uncle, before he died, had lost all perspective. He let his employees take their birthdays off and bought all their kids presents at Christmas. He would have approved of Mr Wilcox acting as your personal gumshoe. I am not that kind of employer. I am not Santa Claus.’

‘I understand,’ said Shelby. Part of her wanted to just stand up and announce that she was leaving, before he had a chance to fire her.

Elliott Markson held his hands open wide. ‘No . . . protestations? Explanations?’

Shelby shook her head. ‘It’s terrible to me to think that Perry’s job was jeopardized because he tried to help me. It was completely my fault.’

‘So it seems. But Mr Wilcox has not lost his job.’

‘I’m grateful for that,’ said Shelby.

Markson nodded. ‘Ms Sloan, you’ve missed a lot of work lately, and have given us no indication of when you plan to return.’

Here it comes, Shelby thought. She took a deep breath, and thought that there were a million things she could do with her experience and her qualifications. Sometimes it was best to make a change, and sometimes the only way to make a change was to be forced into it. Shelby raised her chin and waited for the blow.

‘That being said, I realize that you have been thrown into some extraordinary circumstances lately.’ Elliott Markson frowned slightly. ‘Your grandson is suffering a terrible loss. It’s very difficult to lose your mother at such a young age,’ he said. ‘Very difficult.’

Shelby felt truly nonplussed. She had expected hostility. ‘Yes, it is,’ she said.

‘I do realize how important it is for you to help him through this. There are times in life when one’s career has to take a back seat,’ he said.

Shelby stared at him.

Elliott Markson met her gaze. ‘You seem surprised.’

‘I . . . I was expecting . . .’ she said.

‘To be fired?’ he asked.

Shelby hesitated. ‘Frankly, yes. It crossed my mind.’

‘Should you be fired?’ he asked coolly.

Shelby remained calm. ‘No. I’m good at my job. I will get back to it as soon as . . . as possible,’ she said.

Elliott Markson did not look at her. ‘My uncle had great respect for you, and he was a keen judge of character. I am trying to implement a lot of changes at Markson’s to streamline operations, including in your department. But I think they can wait until you are ready to return.’

Shelby could hardly believe her ears. Part of her wanted to bow to him, murmuring thanks, and back out of the room. But some things had not changed and there was no use pretending that they had. ‘This situation is still very complicated,’ she said. ‘In the coming months, years maybe, there are going to be times when my grandson will need me. He has no mother now. I’m always going to put him first.’

Elliott Markson’s expression was impassive. ‘As you must,’ he said.

Shelby left Markson’s office feeling lighter in spirit than she had in a long time. No matter how willing she was to walk away if need be, she had to admit that she did not want to lose her job. And now, it seemed, she was being allowed a respite. Her job was safe and she had even received a glimmer of understanding from an unlikely source. She felt almost happy.

She decided to stop at the hospital and look in on her son-in-law on her way back to Manayunk. She needed to evaluate for herself whether or not she could safely bring Jeremy to see his father. If Rob was still unconscious, or too frightening in appearance, she was going to have to continue making excuses.

She drove to Dillworth Memorial, and parked in the attached, multistory garage. She went up to the seventh floor and found Rob’s room. When she walked in, she saw that the bed was empty.

For a moment her heart was seized with anxiety. She turned and rushed out to the nurse’s station.

‘Excuse me,’ she said.

The nurse looked up.

‘I’m looking for Rob Kendricks. He’s not in his room.’

The nurse glanced at a chart hanging above the desk and then turned around and put her question to another nurse who was examining vials in a cart behind her.

‘Oh, they took him down to x-ray. He’ll be back up in about . . .’ The nurse glanced at her watch. ‘Half an hour.’

‘Is he conscious?’ Shelby asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Really?’ Shelby asked. ‘That’s great.’

‘Yeah. He’s doing much better,’ said the nurse.

‘Can I wait in his room?’ Shelby asked.

The nurse grimaced. ‘It could be longer than half an hour. We’re backed up today. You can go down to the coffee shop and get some food. Try again after lunch.’

The moment she heard the words, Shelby realized how hungry she was. ‘That’s a great idea,’ she said. ‘I’ll be back a little later.’

Shelby took the elevator back down to the first floor, and entered the cheerful, cafeteria-style coffee shop. The line was long, but moved quickly. Shelby got herself a sandwich and a cup of tea, and, after paying, exited the line into the dining area. Every table seemed to be at least half-occupied. For a moment she regretted not getting something to go. She looked around the room for a table with one occupant who might not object to sharing.

All of a sudden, to her surprise, she saw a familiar face. It was Talia’s graduate assistant from the computer lab at Franklin. Shelby walked over to the table and spoke to the young woman with shaggy brown hair who was sipping at a cup of coffee and working on a computer notebook.

‘Faith?’ she said.

Talia’s assistant looked up at her. Her face lit up slightly. ‘Oh hi, Ms . . .’

‘Shelby.’

‘Right,’ said Faith self-consciously.

Shelby gestured to the empty seat across from Faith. ‘Would you mind if I sat down here,’ she said. ‘I don’t mean to interrupt your work.’

‘No, not at all,’ said Faith, clearing her jacket off the chair. ‘Please sit down.’

‘It’s just so crowded in here,’ Shelby apologized.

‘It is. I didn’t see you come in,’ said Faith. ‘I’m trying to keep up with everything.’

Shelby nodded. ‘What brings you to the hospital?’ she asked, shaking out her paper napkin and putting it in her lap.

‘I brought my mom for her physical therapy. She had a stroke years ago and she’s still not completely well. My dad usually brings her but he’s been under the weather lately, so I have to do it. Luckily, Dr Winter is really understanding about that. I know she takes care of your mother,’ Faith said.

‘Yes, she does,’ said Shelby, forcing herself not to make excuses or explanations.

Faith shook her head. ‘It’s so hard to do everything. My husband and I bought a house. Well, more like a construction site than a house. There’s so much to do,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘And we’re doing it ourselves.’

‘Whew,’ said Shelby.

‘Plus, it’s kind of a hike to get here. So I’m just lucky to have a boss like Dr Winter. And, really, I don’t mind. My parents need my help.’

Shelby thought about her sister’s dour face, the accusation in her every word. She doubted very much if Talia was understanding. She never seemed to think about other people and their lives. When Faith mentioned her parents, it probably just gave Talia an opening to describe her own martyrdom, her brother’s and sister’s indifference.

‘How about you?’ Faith asked politely.

‘What?’ Shelby asked.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘My son-in-law is here,’ said Shelby. ‘He was in an accident,’ she said.

‘That’s too bad,’ Faith murmured.

Shelby thought about trying to explain but she could see Faith’s gaze wandering back to her computer screen.

‘You go ahead,’ said Shelby. ‘Don’t let me interrupt you.’

‘I’m always playing catch-up,’ said Faith apologetically. She glanced at the clock. ‘I need to finish before my mom gets done.’

Shelby nodded and picked up her sandwich as Faith returned to tapping at her keyboard.

In a few minutes, Shelby heard a voice from over her shoulder. ‘OK, honey. I’m all done.’

Faith closed her computer and stood up. ‘Hey Mom,’ she said. ‘How’d it go?’

‘Oh they tortured me, as usual,’ the woman said with a chuckle.

Shelby turned in her chair.

‘Mom, this is Dr Winter’s sister. Mrs Sloan. Mrs Sloan, this is my mother, Peggy Ridley.’

Shelby stared at the plump, older woman with a pink, unlined face, who was leaning on a cane. A few weeks earlier, in a police station in St Thomas, this same woman had told her about Chloe’s last moments before her death.

The woman stared back at Shelby. ‘Oh my word,’ she said.