Lauren walked into Justiciar headquarters with a feeling of trepidation. She had no real excuse to stay away from work anymore, now that Joe was where she could find him. The kids needed to go to school, and she would have just sat around the house all day if she wasn't at Joe's bedside. However, she was also cognisant of the fact that many of the coworkers who greeted her with warm wishes and consolation about Joe's injuries had also witnessed her being lewd with someone who wasn't Joe, and she couldn't help wondering what they were thinking as they welcomed her back.
"Good to see you back, kid," Ralph said, enfolding her in a hug she didn't ask for.
"Thanks." She quickly got out of the hug and turned to address everyone, who hovered around the two of them. "Listen, everybody. Those of you who were at the party, and witnessed something inappropriate between me and my good friend... I want you to know that it was inappropriate, and I will own up to it. I will also own up to the fact that it hurt my husband and it hurt Rachel, who is recovering at home today but should be back soon. I will also let you know that since they've returned, we've discussed the incident at length and have all agreed that it was a one-time, impulsive thing that in no way reflects anything going on in our respective marriages, and that it will never happen again."
She'd rehearsed this speech over and over again as she drove into work in the Nissan Versa. Most of it was true. She had discussed it at length with Rachel last night. She had yet to discuss it with Joe. That conversation was going to be long and hard, and she also had the added burden of bringing Joanie into it. She was going to have to be very, very careful.
She didn't mention the drugging, because it would have made her seem like she wasn't taking responsibility for her actions. Her coworkers knew her to be a calm, capable and proactive person, never prone to self-pity, and without any evidence of wrongdoing she would have looked like a crazy conspiracy theorist too. She also didn't want to let on to anyone that she was suspicious one of them had drugged her and Al's drinks, because if one of them felt threatened they might do something dangerous.
Ralph.
Rachel had so casually thrown out that he was the one who'd done it, and Lauren had been so shocked that Rachel had known about it at all and that Al had confessed to what had happened between them, that she hadn't taken the time to unpack what Rachel's statement meant. She'd made the accusation without any evidence, by taking the fact that she'd left them under Ralph's supervision, and the fact that Ralph had been gone when they'd woken up, and adding them up to a felony. Had Rachel had any idea what she'd been doing making that accusation? And why had she been so casual about it? Wouldn't the idea of Ralph being a creep and a dirtbag scare her, make her angry? Lauren herself didn't know how to feel about it; she'd known Ralph for years, and he'd never come across as creepy, although Rachel had once told her Ralph had been overly attentive to her on occasion. Maybe he had some kind of crush on her? Still, that was no justification for spiking his own partner's drink.
No. She had no evidence yet. She couldn't let on to Ralph that she suspected him, and she couldn't let herself feel anything but professional toward him, for the sake of the continued operation of the company. She'd already been gone two days, and that must have already put a dent in the rota. Starting an intra-office war would tank them, especially if there was nothing to it.
"Well, we're all glad you're back," Ralph said, and there was not a hint of any ill intent in his eyes.
He placed his hand on Lauren's shoulder, and Lauren noticed the scratches on the back of it. "Do you have a cat, Ralph?" she asked.
His brow furrowed. "No, why?"
"I used to have one, and that scratch on your hand reminded me of the ones I used to get when Neko wasn't having any of my affection." She took his hand and examined it. "Geez, something got you good, it must have bled a little. You should put some ointment on it."
He pulled his hand away and changed the subject. "Listen, if you want to jockey a desk today, we can rejig the rota."
"Actually, can I see what's going on today? Maybe if I do some work close to VGH I can visit Joe when I have a break."
"Oh, yeah, sure, whatever you want. Are you sure you'll be on game?"
"Ralph, have you ever known me not to be on game?"
"Well, there was that incident at the nightclub that caused us to pay higher premiums in perpetuity."
Odd that he'd brought up another incident involving a mickey. "If Sanderson had been there instead of my husband, it would have been fine. Joe gets a little overprotective when my safety is compromised. He's not a professional."
"Well, anyway. If you can work the changes in the rota, pick what you want."
By this time the rest of them had drifted away to their own work, the aforementioned Sanderson among them; she'd made sure to make the comment about him out of his hearing, because she didn't want to hurt his feelings. His absence that night wasn't his fault; he'd had a family emergency.
She went and unlocked the door to her office. She sat at her desk and turned on her computer. When she logged into her work email, she discovered the usual requests for updates from clients, questions about scheduling from coworkers, and files of data to be opened and reviewed. She opened the window for today's rota and reviewed who was scheduled to be where.
It took her some time to catch up on the work left over from the two days she was away, so she didn't notice an email further down her inbox until later in the day.
It was sent from an email address she didn't recognize. Normally she would send such emails to her junk mail folder, but the subject line stopped her short.
RE: It's not your fault.
It was dated Sunday morning. There was an attachment to the email.
Her eyes widened. She stood quickly and looked out into the hallway to make sure no one was looking, then quietly closed and locked her door and returned to her computer.
She opened the email.
There was no body to the email, only the attachment.
She opened the attachment.
Her hand flew to her mouth as she realized it was a photo. She recognized Rachel's apartment, the party, her coworkers dressed to the nines. Herself, laughing with Rachel on one side.
A man's back. A hand holding something over a glass.
She recognized the head of hair, the blazer, the arms of eyeglasses over the ears, even though she couldn't see his face.
She had to get out of here.
First, though, she forwarded the email to her personal email address, then to Al's and Rachel's emails, typing I got this in my work email before sending it. Then she deleted the email and emptied her recycling bin to make sure it was gone completely. Then she looked at the rota again and inserted herself in a spot as far away from the office as possible, not necessarily close to VGH but she didn't care. Suddenly she didn't feel safe at work anymore.
As if the threat had awakened her warrior instinct, she looked to the bookshelf, and to the rack that held her sword.
The rack was empty.
"What the fuck?" she breathed.
Someone had broken into her office and taken her sword. She opened her door and checked the lock for signs of jimmying. It looked clean. Someone must have used a key. She had a key, and she'd given a copy to Joe in case she lost hers.
Ralph had a key to the master box that held all the keys in case anyone lost theirs.
She couldn't confront Ralph about this. Not now. She just needed to get out.
She made sure her purse was stocked with her usual self-defence tools: her pepper spray, her rape alarm and her little illegal zapper.
She didn't say goodbye to anybody. She fled to her car and screamed out of there. She attached her phone to the hands free mount and began making calls. First she called the investigators she'd moved on the rota and let them know their schedule had changed for the day.
Next she called Al's phone. It rang a few times before it was picked up.
Silence for a second. Then, "Lauren?"
It was Rachel.
"Hey, girl!" she said too brightly, feeling like she'd been caught in something, even though she had every right to call Al. She just hadn't expected Rachel to pick up. "Oh, hey, I guess Al left his phone with you because yours is still with the police?"
"Yes," Rachel said stonily. "I really should go in and get a replacement, maybe a pay as you go, just until I get mine back. Al's at work, but he left his so I can keep in contact with the outside world, and open the front door for visitors." A pause. "Were you trying to reach him? He's at work."
She cleared her throat. "Well, yes, but I'm glad I got you, because I want to talk to you too."
"Oh, yeah?"
Rachel's tone was scaring her. It didn't sound very friendly. Maybe she wasn't as cool with what had happened between Lauren and Al as she'd claimed. "Yeah. Check your email. I forwarded something that arrived in my work inbox Sunday morning. Do you have the email of the detectives who talked to you yesterday?"
Now Rachel's tone changed. "Yeah, I think so. Holy shit, is there something in the email that has to do with... what happened?"
"I think so. I think one of our coworkers covertly took a photo and sent it to me with an untraceable email address because they didn't want the person in this photo to know they sent it. You'll see why when you see it."
"I'll forward it to the detectives, then," she said. "I'm also going to forward the photo of the two of you."
"What?! Why?"
"Al and I discovered last night that neither of you could have taken that picture while you were in that position. It had to be taken by someone at least a foot or two away from you."
Lauren felt like the car was a roller coaster going quickly up and down the hills and curves. She thought she might be sick. "Someone was in the room with us while we were...?"
Rachel cleared her throat and said, "Apparently so."
"Oh my God." She gripped the wheel harder to keep herself steady, but she was also picturing herself throttling the person who'd taken that picture of them. "So, someone not only drugged us, but someone took our picture and tried to send that picture to you and to Joe but, because the data on Al's phone wasn't on, they weren't successful."
"So... you were right, then."
"That we were drugged?"
Silence for a moment, then, "Yeah."
"Believe me, I take no pleasure in being right, especially when I know who it was that did it; but more than that, I hate that this is coming between us. I can feel it, Rachel." Her vision was blurring with tears, and she wiped them furiously away because she was driving. "It made me do the worst thing I could do to a friend and I can't even remember it."
"Oh, sweetie," Rachel said, sniffling. "I don't hate you, okay? I still fucking love you. I'm just... I don't know... I had a harrowing couple of days, and I also did some things I'm not proud of, and coming home to Al's confession, on top of it all, left me feeling... so raw."
"I'm so sorry. For all you went through. You and Joe."
"You went through a lot too, worrying about us, searching for us. Digging up dead dogs."
"Ah, you know about Charlie."
"Yeah," she said, sighing. "That was a real shame."
"I want to be with you, Rachel. I want to have you in my arms. I want to be naked with you. I can't feel better about us until I can do that."
She heard Rachel's quickening breath on the other end. "I know. Me too. It's dangerous right now, though. Joe's laid up and you need to be with him, and Al's around me a lot, taking care of me."
So, Al hadn't told her everything after all. He hadn't told her Lauren had confessed to their relationship. Maybe she could surprise Rachel with that knowledge, in a way that could benefit both of them. She had to think about this.
Rachel said something, and Lauren had been too deep in thoughts of her naked to hear her. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"I said, if it wasn't for Charlie dying, none of this would have happened."
Lauren was so stunned by what she'd said, all she could say was, "Huh?!"
"I'll explain when we're together. You sound like you're driving. I should let you go."
"Okay. Thanks, Rachel. I fucking love you too, okay?"
"I know. Talk to you soon."
"Bye." She hung up.
She hadn't reached her destination yet. She thought about the next call she would make. Did she really need to make it, now? It seemed unnecessary.
She called it anyway.
It rang a few times before being picked up. "Good afternoon, Catalogue workroom."
"Hi, I'm looking for Alistair Mackenzie."
"This is Al," Al said, and, in a repeat of two years ago, said, "Is this HR?"
"No," she said, smiling, remembering that conversation that had brought them back together.
"I'm kidding. I know it's you, Lauren."
"So, you remember when I called this number last time?"
"Of course I do. It was the first time I'd heard your voice in thirty years."
"Yeah." Suddenly she was welling up again. "Shit. I'm so fucking emotional today."
"I'm glad you called," he said, voice heavy too. "I feel like I need to hear your voice every day or I don't feel right."
Shit. This wasn't right. So, why did she feel so happy to hear him say it? "Al... wait, I'm sorry, are you in the middle of work?"
"I can talk for a minute. How are you doing?"
"Uh, not very good, actually. I just talked to Rachel--"
"You did? Is she okay?"
"Oh, yeah, I called your phone and got her--"
"Oh, yeah, I gave it to her to use. So, wait, you were calling me?"
"Yeah, dummy, why do you think I called you at work?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, chuckling sheepishly, and it made her feel even more tender toward him.
"I was going to tell you to check your email. I forwarded you an email I found in my inbox this morning at work. There's a photo attached to it that is very enlightening."
"Oh! You mean..."
"Just have a look at it. I told Rachel and she says she's going to forward it to the police, along with the photo of us, apparently it was taken by a third party?"
He cleared his throat. "Yes. Rachel had a good eye for perspective, and she noticed something wrong with it almost as soon as she saw it."
"That's incredible. How didn't I notice it? I take photos every day!"
"I think you and I were both shocked by its very existence, and the possibility that our spouses might have seen it, and then we were full on looking for them, so it's understandable we didn't stop to examine it more closely." He paused. "It makes my skin crawl just thinking about it."
"I know. More so me. You'll know why when you see the email."
"Shit," he breathed. "Is it... the identity of the photographer?"
She thought about that for a second. "Maybe. Proving it will be another matter entirely, but if the police look into it, maybe put it together with any evidence they may have gotten from your apartment, maybe we'll have something."
"Okay," he said. "Well, so, I guess you're back at work?"
"Yeah, the kids are at school and I needed to do something. Joe's in the hospital and I couldn't just sit at home."
"Are you going to see him today?"
"Yeah," she said, suddenly feeling tired. "I have a lot to talk to him about."
"See if he'll tell you exactly what happened. Rachel still won't tell me the whole story."
"I'll try. He may not feel up to it until he gets back from hospital. Hey, Rachel told me something strange when I was talking to her today."
Silence for a moment. Then Al asked, "What's that?"
"She said if it wasn't for Charlie's death, this whole thing wouldn't have happened."
"There you go. I knew it. They were pulling a switcheroo, and something went wrong. Maybe they were duped into thinking they were purchasing a dog that looked like Charlie, but instead were lured into a trap where they were robbed and carjacked."
Lauren shook her head even though Al couldn't see it. "I can't believe it. Why leave a party so late at night to get a dog? Does such a thing require a cloak-and-dagger operation? Especially when Joe and Rachel knew they had two possibly drunk spouses they were leaving behind who'd done something unforgivable? Anyway, this is Johnny's dog we're talking about, why wouldn't he have gone and gotten it? No, I just can't see it. We still have the possibility that someone unhappy with the development did this to them, remember? Sunny and Tej are looking into it."
"Yeah. You're right, I'm sure. Still, what was that text exchange on Rachel's phone that indicated some exchange?"
"Maybe she can tell you. Maybe it has absolutely nothing to do with this. Maybe it's your birthday present like I suggested."
"Maybe," he said uncertainly.
"I guess I should let you go. That was really all I needed to tell you."
"Okay. Thanks for calling. It was good to hear from you."
"You too. Bye, Al."
"Bye."
She hung up, found the workplace of the target she was supposed to be surveilling, and parked a block away to keep a safe distance. She unzipped her camera from its case, set it up, and waited for the target to emerge, looking through the telescopic lens every once in a while. Hopefully he would come out soon and just go home to his wife, and then she could clock out for the day and go see Joe. Otherwise, it was going to be a long night.
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