Abby did the only thing she could think of. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just remembered a story my aunt told me–about a client who died and she really missed him, and she wanted to make it up to his family. So I just thought I could send a–”
“It is completely unprofessional to share names of clients.” Liz said
“Yes, of course,” Abby said, reddening. “I just thought you could send them a message.” She trailed off. This was going nowhere, maybe she needed to leave and find someone else in the firm willing to disclose. But was that even likely?
“I can promise you that Sally’s clients and their families do not need any further contact.” Liz answered crisply. She stood up and waited for Abby to do the same. “Please don’t come here again, Miss Cowan.”
“One more thing, Miss Cowan.” Liz beckoned her back. “I thought you were dropping off some paperwork. Where is it?”
“Ah, yes, the paperwork.” Abby said blanky. She’d forgotten her excuse for visiting.
“May I see it please,” Liz said, icily.
Abby pretended to dig around her bag. She gave a weak laugh, “Ha, this is so silly, but I think I left those papers at home after all. All I have is this.”
She flashed Liz a print-out of the Cayman account.
“I don’t know what you’re implying but you need to leave now.”
“Wait,” Abby said, “There’s one more thing. Sally seems to have had these papers referring to clients like the one I just showed you.” Liz’s face remained impassive, surly. “Abel Woodward?” She peered at Liz’s face and saw a glimmer of fear. Bull’s eye. This Abe Woodward was worth investigating.
Liz now insisted on escorting Abby out of the office. Her curt farewell made it clear if Abby ever came snooping around again police would be called. So much for that.
She’d walked halfway down the block when she heard someone calling her name behind her.
It was a young man, early twenties, wearing a buttondown shirt, no tie. “Abby, I heard what you were asking–about weird, sudden accidents. There’s something you should know about Sally.”
“Wait, who are you exactly?”
“I’m Bryan. Kimball. I’m an intern. I heard you asking about clients who’s died suddenly. I wanted to tell you about this weird conversation I had with Sally, the week before she died.”
“Oh yeah?” Abby prompted.
The man hesitated. “She said, she said the easiest way to murder someone is to just run them over. So it looks like an accident. Then she said that if some accident ever happened to her–well, it meant that someone had made it happen.”
“Did she say anything about who would want to harm her?”
Bryan shook his head. “She wouldn’t say anything more about it, like she seemed to regret saying that much.”
— Von
“It is completely unprofessional to share names of clients.” Liz said
“Yes, of course,” Abby said, reddening. “I just thought you could send them a message.” She trailed off. This was going nowhere, maybe she needed to leave and find someone else in the firm willing to disclose. But was that even likely?
“I can promise you that Sally’s clients and their families do not need any further contact.” Liz answered crisply. She stood up and waited for Abby to do the same. “Please don’t come here again, Miss Cowan.”
“One more thing, Miss Cowan.” Liz beckoned her back. “I thought you were dropping off some paperwork. Where is it?”
“Ah, yes, the paperwork.” Abby said blanky. She’d forgotten her excuse for visiting.
“May I see it please,” Liz said, icily.
Abby pretended to dig around her bag. She gave a weak laugh, “Ha, this is so silly, but I think I left those papers at home after all. All I have is this.”
She flashed Liz a print-out of the Cayman account.
“I don’t know what you’re implying but you need to leave now.”
“Wait,” Abby said, “There’s one more thing. Sally seems to have had these papers referring to clients like the one I just showed you.” Liz’s face remained impassive, surly. “Abel Woodward?” She peered at Liz’s face and saw a glimmer of fear. Bull’s eye. This Abe Woodward was worth investigating.
Liz now insisted on escorting Abby out of the office. Her curt farewell made it clear if Abby ever came snooping around again police would be called. So much for that.
She’d walked halfway down the block when she heard someone calling her name behind her.
It was a young man, early twenties, wearing a buttondown shirt, no tie. “Abby, I heard what you were asking–about weird, sudden accidents. There’s something you should know about Sally.”
“Wait, who are you exactly?”
“I’m Bryan. Kimball. I’m an intern. I heard you asking about clients who’s died suddenly. I wanted to tell you about this weird conversation I had with Sally, the week before she died.”
“Oh yeah?” Abby prompted.
The man hesitated. “She said, she said the easiest way to murder someone is to just run them over. So it looks like an accident. Then she said that if some accident ever happened to her–well, it meant that someone had made it happen.”
“Did she say anything about who would want to harm her?”
Bryan shook his head. “She wouldn’t say anything more about it, like she seemed to regret saying that much.”
— Von
Oooh. OK. Abby is turning into a pretty good sleuth. This doesn't explain her residence in Barbie's guest house, unless I'm missing an episode. So, Aunt Sally was murdered for her money. Hmmmm. And Abby's now-lost money also? Hmmmm. ---Macoff
ReplyDeleteLiz is a real piece of work! Waiting for the next episode of “ Liz meets Sally!”
ReplyDelete