Lost Hours Page 4

  I walk out the small meeting room where I´ve been talking with Paula Hawkins. I watch her closely from the hallway as I leave. Her bowed head with copious straight red hair hiding her beautiful face. I can see tears in those narrow green eyes. She shakes her head, runs her fingers through her hair and straightens her black pencil skirt. Elegant, feminine and majestic. She resembles an ancient Celtic goddess.

  Paula raises her eyes and catches me watching her like a dope. I smile, trying to push out of my mind all the turmoil that swamps it. Building up my courage I walk towards the office where Charlotte, the deceased´s wife waits.

  It looks like the pill she took has taken hold, quieting her down a bit. But her eyes are still screaming in despair. Madness and confusion lurk behind her glassy stare.

  “Mrs. Parker,” I greet her. She stares at me and shakes her head in a weighty motion.

  “She doesn´t want to talk,” says the white bearded man that has been beside her since they arrived.

  “ I can understand Mr…” I want to know who this guy is.

  “Heston. I´m her father, father in law to Mr. Parker.”

  “Mr. Heston, I need to talk to your daughter.”

  “What is it?” She mumbles, resigned. Her voice is velvety and enigmatic. Her blue eyes, burdened with grief, try to focus on me. She runs her bony hands down her cheeks nervously.

  “Do you know if your husband was in any kind of trouble?” I coax, going to the heart of the matter, even if I know it´s a delicate question. I could lose this woman´s cooperation for good.

  “Of course, not. Do you know who my husband was? The best creative advertising genius in New York. The best! I can take you to our apartment so you can see for yourself, all the prizes he has won.” She is upset and jumpy, with the total lack of humility that I was expecting.

  “That won´t be necessary Mrs. Parker. We found traces of cocaine in his nostrils.

  I want to put her on the spot. I want her to talk. She goes pales and stares into space.

  “Sometimes he overdid it with the drugs… only at times,” she accepts, “but he wasn´t in any trouble with a dealer or anything, if that´s what you´re after. Forget about the drugs, be so kind to get off your butt and find who killed my husband.” That is not a request, it´s a threat.

  Charlotte stands up staring at me fixedly and starts trembling violently. Her father, with a worried and serious expression, holds on to her. A few seconds later she begins to spasm uncontrollably and she falls heavily on the plush carpet. I run to her and struggle to take her pulse. The convulsion get even more violent and she is unconscious, if not for her racing pulse and the quivering, you would think she´d died.

  “Call an ambulance, right now!” I call out loudly.

  “Not again Charlotte, not again…” Her father mumbles, obviously in great distress.

  I have spent two hours questioning most of the employees at the DIC agency and I can´t come up with anything. Not a single suspect, no one who would stand out, aspiring to take Parker´s important position.

  Crime scene investigators continue to toil in the crime scene. Meanwhile the director of the agency begs us to get finished quickly so they can get back to normal. The employees are very upset and in the middle of an important advertising campaign, which, by the way, they wonder how it will be completed without their brilliant mastermind.

  “Please try to get things done outside our premises, I beg you.” She´s a stocky forty-and-a-bunch year old. Her blue eyes host a glacial glare. Her nose seems to be too small in a face dominated by heavy cheeks and overly thin lips. I´ve never liked thin lips.

  “We´re doing the best we can Mrs. Hemsley. We can´t overlook a single detail of the crime scene. We won´t be able to leave until we´re finished.” I reply gently, though I´m exhausted and in a bad mood. Every time I think about Ana and what she did to me, I feel like biting the head off whoever crosses my path.

  Samantha Hemsley sighs and rolls her eyes, retreating to her office. I´ve been watching her all day, and I can tell she hasn´t been able to concentrate on her work the whole morning. For minutes at a time, she has been staring at a picture on her desk. In the picture, her younger self, a lot more attractive than in the present. She´s holding a cute five-year-old girl, both are smiling and carefree. The background is a not too realistic seascape.

  After an absence of two hours, Steve is finally back. He´s soaked to the bone. I didn´t even realize it had started to rain. I hope he has good news for me, or has found out something that I might have missed.

  “What a mess there with the corpses bride… “he mumbles.

  “A little more respect there buddy. How´s she doing?”

  “In a coma. An overdose of crack and cocaine.”

  “What about Mr. Parker?”

  “Oddly enough they haven´t been able to find any traces of drugs in the body, my friend. Cause of death: a longitudinal cut to the neck. The murderer is a real pro, the cut was very precise.”

  I frown and shake my head. I could have bet on the victim being on drugs. I look towards the office where I know Paula Hawkins is. I remember her words; she thought Josh was high when he tried to get to her, minutes before the murder.

  “The weirdest thing of all is that he didn´t seem to fight back, that he would let the murderer break the glass and slash his throat,” Steve continues, muttering to himself. I nod. “The people at forensics are going nuts, there are no prints except the victim´s, and none of the employees has a record. One of those complicated cases, boss?”

  “Tell me about it. Which one isn´t? Remember the last case, the one with the model Patricia Larson? Who would have thought the murderer was her best friend, also a model ?

  “And let me add, one angelical being, descended from heaven.”

  “More like hell, Steve, ascended from hell.”

  CHAPTER 4

  PAULA

  Friday, December 5, 2003

  I´d been working for three months at the DIC advertising agency, and in that time, I´d become Josh Parker´s right hand. I knew Lisa and Nicole envied me every time Josh would “invite” me to his office and I´d remain there for hours at a time, explaining my ideas, helping with his creative process.

  But to my surprise, Charlotte, the most competitive and arrogant member of the team, treated me much better. At the start, it was she who objected most strenuously to the inclusion of two more women to the creative team. Eventually, though, she accepted it and was glad there were two more minds at work, which allowed her to leave at a more decent time. Work buildup was no longer an issue.

  I´d realized soon enough that flirting was pervasive. As I sat at my work station, I could feel Josh´s gaze on me. I would then smile at him coquettishly and he´d reply with an impish grin and continue to work on his sketches or the computer screen. We acted like two teenagers, and I thoroughly enjoyed the tingling it caused in my lower abdomen.

  Anyway, that Friday something happened. Something unexpected that I ´d been hoping for, for a long time. My phone rang, it was Josh calling from his office, you could guess the smile on his face from his tone.

  “Could you come over for a minute?”

  “Of course.”

  As was customary, I walked swinging my hips provocatively to his office. I opened the door and sat before the boss. I could literally feel the weight of Lisa, Nicole and Charlotte´s stare on me.

  Josh clenched his hands in front of him, leaned forward and looked at me in a different way.

  “What´s the matter?” I asked giggling, “has my mascara smeared or something?”

  “No, not at all… You look stunning as always.”

  He smiled enigmatically. Charming, irresistible. “I was wondering if you had any plans for tonight.” I paused for a second and that made him uncertain. “I imagine there´s a lot of demand for a woman like you.”

  “Not really.” I answered thinking about my cheap lonely apartment in Queens. A single room flat in a squalid fifties buildin
g.

  “Well then, would you like to come to dinner with me?” he suggested very formally.

  “It would be a pleasure, Mr. Parker.”

  I rose, patted down my fitted khaki skirt and walked slowly to my office. I could feel Josh´s stare on my butt every inch of the way. As I reach the door to my office I turned to wink at him and tried to concentrate on my work.

  The day stretched unbearably. As with any typical Friday, there was no one left in the office by seven. Apparently, everyone had plans and were in a hurry. Lisa, Nicole and Charlotte had left and I was waiting for Josh to leave his office.

  “Should we go Miss.?” Asked Josh from behind me. I was totally focused on some sketches he had sent me earlier that evening.

  “So, where are you taking me?” I asked mischievously as I shut down the computer.

  “It´s a surprise.”

  I trembled as he put his hand on my waist and wondered if my makeup was still OK and my clothes unwrinkled after twelve hours of work.

  An elegant, black Mercedes was waiting for us on the street. Very gentlemanly, Josh helped me into the back seat and signaled the driver to go.

  I was very nervous, his presence overwhelmed me and for a moment I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.

  We drove down the night streets of New York until we reached 60th St., close to Central Park. The driver dropped us off at the north tower of the Time Warner Center. I knew the fancy Asiate Restaurant was located on the 35th floor of the Oriental Mandarin Hotel. I immediately assumed that was where I was to have my first date with Josh. I could never have afforded to even have a drink there.

  “Am I well-dressed enough?” I asked as we rode up on the elevator. “After twelve hours in the office, maybe I should´ve stopped at home to change or…”

  “You look gorgeous.” He interrupted me, caressing my hand reassuringly.

  As we walked into the Asiate, a serious, elegant oriental host greeted us.

  “Ah, Mr. Parker. Welcome. Will it be your usual table?”

  “Yes please.”

  We walked into an immense room where we were seated at a secluded table near a huge window. The whole city of New York was at our feet.

  “Do you like it?” Asked Josh

  “I love it!”

  I let Josh take over. I can´t even remember what we ate. A multitude of delicious dishes with minute quantities of exquisitely decorated delicacies were brought to us.

  A little bit tipsy, Josh began to open up to me. His stunningly blue eyes were a bit glassy from the drink, but he remained the charismatic, elegant man he always was.

  “I like you Paula. I like you very much. Is it terrible for me to say that I´d love to kiss your lips, right here, right now?”

  “You forgot to say `and with the whole of New York as a background´.” I giggled nervously.

  “I´ll say it if it means you will say yes.” I wonder if he actually thought I might say no. He looked around us, and not thinking of anything but my lips, he leaned towards me, gently put his hand around my neck and kissed me for what must have been the best seconds of my life up to that moment. How had I been able to live for twenty-six years without those kisses? His tongue playfully wrapping around mine, his fleshy lips ardently enveloping mine.

  “Let´s get out of here.” Josh urged.

  He paid the check and we left hurriedly. On the way down the thirty-five floors in the lift, our lips never parted.

  We didn´t have far to walk to Josh´s apartment, located in front of Central Park on the Upper East Side.

  Entering the sybaritic apartment, I was unable to see anything as Josh guided me hurriedly to his ample, comfy bed.

  He pushed me savagely onto the fluffy comforter. Without parting his lips from mine, he began to undress me skillfully. I tore at his clothes.

  He parted my thighs and slowly penetrated me without preamble; slowly at first, calmly looking into my eyes. He caressed every inch of skin, nibbling at my hardened nipples, pushing deeper, harder.

  Oh-my-God! That was heavenly, that´s what it was. I whimpered and sighed, letting Josh´s expertise guide me until, after about half an hour we both climaxed and slumped on the bed, side by side, panting looking beyond the ceiling.

  “That was incredible” Josh laughed, turning to look at me. He caressed my breasts tenderly while I took in each of his sweaty, well defined muscles.

  “Again?” I laughed playfully.

  “You don´t have to ask me twice.”

  PAULA

  Wednesday, October 9, 2013

  Paul has been observing me all day. Shit, I shouldn´t have told him about Josh. I was afraid I might have been considered a suspect because of our past affair. It had been ten years! I have been in love with Matthew for the last nine years. He is the love of my life, while the affair with Josh was just for fun… a mistake, as I could tell from what happened the night before, before he… before. Dear God! I can´t even say it! Before he was murdered.

  At ten past five I am ready to leave the office. The truth is I hardly got anything done. It was Josh who assigned our tasks. As with the rest of the office staff, Nicole and Lisa haven´t done a thing either. It has been a chaotic day and poor Samantha is distraught. Everything needs to get back to normal: a serious, well respected advertising agency that would probably lose some of its clientele.

  I haven´t watched the TV or read any newspapers, but I know we are news because of Josh Parker´s murder. I´m afraid of what might happen, and I curse myself for having run out leaving Josh with the murderer. I try to remember if I saw something strange, if I met someone on my way out, something or a person I might have missed due to the flustered state I was in.

  “Hello Paula.” It´s Paul. Detective Tischmann smiling behind me. I rise from my desk and try to match his smile, hiding my nervousness. “I would like you to know, though it´s not proper procedure, that the drug tests have turned out negative. Josh was clean.”

  I don´t know what to say. I recall Josh was inattentive, altered, bordering on madness.

  “Really? Well the signs were all there.” I reply as naturally as I can.

  “Tell me Paula, what signs?”

  “I don´t know much about drugs, you see. His eyes were glassy and he was behaving strangely, upset and nervous… he couldn´t be still.”

  “So, how is it possible that he was seated while the murderer broke the glass, grabbed a piece and slashed him? That thick glass doesn´t break easy. It had to be done by someone with great strength.”

  “Maybe he was threatened” I muse.

  “Maybe,” murmurs Paul, “We´ll just have to keep looking. Thanks again Paula.”

  “It´s been a pleasure.”

  I pick up my stuff and leave. Lisa´s still in her cubicle, engrossed by something on her computer screen. As I walk towards the elevators I glimpse at the meeting room in which Josh was slain. The blood is still there. Three cops working meticulously inside the cordoned area. I can´t help but replay the scene in my mind. Josh grabbing at me, squeezing my breasts, licking my neck. I grieve, thinking about what we were to each other… what we could have been. Having to go through this situation hurts me deep inside, and once again the tears threaten to overflow my weary eyes.

  I manage to pull myself together, leaving behind a dense atmosphere, a day I wish had never been on the calendar.

  When I get home Matthew isn´t there. I fix myself a cup of hot cocoa and sit on the window sill to watch the rain, lost in my thoughts. I think about each and every minute I shared with Josh, many more than I will admit to others. I still can´t believe he´s dead. I still blame myself.

  19:30hrs.

  Matthew hasn´t come home yet and won´t take my calls. I slump on the sofa and turn on the TV. Every channel is talking about the demise of the DIC creative genius, Josh Parker and his gory death. Most reports are in the form of tributes to his work; they also talk about Charlotte, who is still in a hospital, in a deep coma. I am stunned by that, I had no idea
and start to cry again, unaware of the tears sliding down my cheeks. I don´t even notice when at seven thirty-three, Matthew walks in the door.

  “Are you alright honey?” he asks as he drops his laptop on the kitchen table.

  “It´s been a horrible day.” I run to him and hug him. He is wearing the green sweater I got him last year. I love how it looks on him, how it smells.

  “What happened?” He pecks me on the lips.

  “My boss, Josh, has been murdered.”

  “What!”

  “It was horrible. Haven´t you seen the news? His throat was slit. Look, I get goose bumps just thinking about it. Whoever did it must´ve been super strong to break the glass partition, grab a piece and cut him with it. I´ve literally crashed into that partition many times and haven´t left a scratch. I can´t imagine the strength need to actually break it.

  “They must have used something to break it, woman. But, why? Why was he killed?”

  “They are still working on the case.” I respond dejected. I feel guilty thinking about detective Tischmann; thinking about him in a forbidden way, almost obscene and provocative, especially with Matthew standing right here.

  “I´m sorry you had such a sucky day honey. Should we order pizza? Breaking our Tofu diet for one day won´t kill us.” He winks at me and goes into the bedroom to make the call.

  A half hour later an enormous, grease and cheese covered pizza arrives at our door. We are ready to sit in the living room with a romantic movie in the background.

  “I’d almost forgotten what pizza tastes like,” I remark, “Y´know? I met Joana yesterday as I was getting home. Matter of fact, we stopped at Jimmy´s for a few drinks before I came home. I didn´t want to wake you, you were sleeping like a baby.”

  “With Joana?” He asks, his eyes wide. I catch it with the corner of my eye. I suspect something.

  “You knew she was back in New York, didn´t you?”

  “Me? How was I to know?”

  “Don´t answer a question with another question Matthew.”

  “Darling, I didn´t know Joana was in town. Is that better?