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to Dyan. “Let’s start with my office.”
    A pair of peace lilies on stands flanked the door to Fredelle’s office. Somehow I wasn’t surprised that Fredelle’s workspace had a row of African violets in the large east-facing window that looked over the parking lot. I turned to the motivational posters over the filing cabinet ( Follow Your Dream , Climb Every Mountain , and Believe in Yourself ). Underneath the posters, a collection of porcelain puppies nudged a framed photo of Fredelle and what had to be Quovadicon employees taken at a staff picnic. Reg Van Zandt was front and center in his wheelchair. Fredelle beamed behind him. To the right Dyan had simpered at the camera. There was no sign of Autumn, but she was new. A very pregnant lady, blond and beaming, stood waving. A few dozen men in shorts and baseball caps grinned sheepishly in the background. I didn’t see Mel or Del, but the girl seemed familiar.
    “Who’s this?”
    “Oh dear, that’s our Missy,” Fredelle said. “Missy Manderly. She was on staff for ten years, ever since she finished high school. She knew everyone and everything about Quovadicon. She married one of the office supply sales reps who used to drop in a bit more often than was absolutely necessary. This was taken the week before she went on maternity leave. She’s just had twins.”
    “That’s dramatic.”
    “If anybody could ever manage twins with ease, it’s Missy.”
    “I’ve seen her before.”
    “Well, Woodbridge isn’t all that big, as you know. They bought an old house off Long March Road and fixed it up.”
    “My friend Jack has a business in that area. Perhaps I’ve seen her around there. Some people are more memorable than others. That smile makes a real impression.”
    “It hasn’t been the same since she left. Dyan George may think she’s efficient, but she can’t hold a candle to Missy. Missy was perfectly organized and sensible and levelheaded.” Fredelle lowered her voice. “Dyan’s all about control, not really about how to get the job done. I’m just lucky that the whole office hasn’t quit since she came on.”
    “Yes, I noticed that she makes digs about people to their faces and behind their backs.”
    “You mean Autumn? She doesn’t even notice. She’s very sweet, and even though I find myself defending her from Dyan, she’s not the brightest bulb in the chandelier.”
    I coughed, surprised at the usually gentle Fredelle’s comment.
    She shrugged. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. But she’s one of the usual cases.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Mr. Van Zandt wanted her hired. Mr. Halliday, that’s Autumn’s dad, is a really good friend and a business associate of his. He wanted his daughter to have a safe place to work and not end up in a bigger city where bad things can happen. You may have noticed, she’s kind of, um, naïve. So she’ll stay until she decides to move on or finds another college to go to, if she can get accepted. That’s the way it works here. Family firm. People first.”
    “And this person?” I pointed to the second row and the shy fellow who’d avoided eye contact with us earlier. He hadn’t hung around for an intro.
    Her face softened. “Oh dear. Poor Robbie.”
    “Poor Robbie?”
    She smiled as though her imaginary puppy had made a puddle on my carpet. “He’s so shy.”
    “Oh. And ‘poor Robbie’ is . . . ?”
    “Robert Van Zandt. The owner’s son.”
    I wasn’t sure what the subtext to this was. “And he works here, too?”
    “Mmm,” she said. “Well, of course he does. As I said, family and friends first with Mr. Van Zandt, you know.”
    “What does Robbie do?” I made sure I didn’t say poor Robbie . Chances were I’d meet this person, and I didn’t want to have any prejudices toward him. Or worse, blurt out, You must be poor Robbie .
    “He’s not under me, here in administration. He does some kind of liaison with clients and backup for client service. He’s actually quite