Comfort Me

  Comfort Me

  Other Books by Debbie Viguié

  The Psalm 23 Mysteries

  The Lord is My Shepherd

  I Shall Not Want

  Lie Down in Green Pastures

  Beside Still Waters

  Restoreth My Soul

  In the Paths of Righteousness

  For His Name’s Sake

  Walk Through the Valley

  The Shadow of Death

  I Will Fear No Evil

  Thou Art With Me

  Thy Rod and Thy Staff

  The Kiss Trilogy

  Kiss of Night

  Kiss of Death

  Kiss of Revenge

  Sweet Seasons

  The Summer of Cotton Candy

  The Fall of Candy Corn

  The Winter of Candy Canes

  The Spring of Candy Apples

  Comfort Me

  Psalm 23 Mysteries

  By Debbie Viguié

  Published by Big Pink Bow

  Comfort Me

  Copyright © 2017 by Debbie Viguié

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9906971-5-2

  Published by Big Pink Bow

  www.bigpinkbow.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Dedicated to Diane Woodall - without your help I would have gone crazy this past year.

  Thank you to everyone who helped make this book a reality, particularly Barbara Reynolds, Rick Reynolds, Calliope Collacott, and Chrissy Current. I also need to thank all the fans who have waited so patiently for this book.

  1

  Cindy Preston dreaded Tuesdays now that they had become the new Mondays. It had been a month since she quit her job at the church. She had immediately signed up with a temp agency and she kept getting four-day assignments, always starting on a Tuesday because somehow people didn’t realize they were going to need a temporary administrative assistant until Monday mid-morning. At that point they’d call the staffing agency which would then call her. For someone who had always avoided uncertainty and change the process had been agonizing.

  It was Tuesday and she had another slip of paper in her hand with another new address on it. This assignment would be different, though. Supposedly the company was going to need her services for four to six weeks while they conducted interviews for a permanent administrative assistant.

  She arrived at the building. A chain link fence surrounded the entire property. Friendly place, she thought with a grimace. The gate was open and she pulled slowly up to the guard station.

  The guard, a tall thin man with a shock of red hair, scowled at her. “Can I help you, Miss?”

  “Yes, I’m Cindy Preston, the new temp. Mr. Cartwright is expecting me,” she said.

  “Let me see your driver’s license,” he said, scowl still firmly in place.

  Cindy fished it out of her purse, wishing that there wasn’t a cold little knot of dread settling in her stomach. She was working overtime trying not to feel negative about the place.

  He handed it back to her. “Park in the back row,” he said pointing to the section of cars farthest from the building. “Take the elevator to the fifth floor.”

  “Thank you,” she started to say, but he’d already turned away, effectively dismissing her.

  Cindy eased her car forward and then made her way to the parking section he’d indicated. She got the very last slot in the row which had her in the far corner by the chain link fences. She was also the farthest away from the building she could possibly be.

  “It’s going to be fine,” she told herself as she turned off the ignition.

  She pulled her deck of cards out of her purse and then got out of the car. She locked it, shouldered her purse, and then began cutting the cards one-handed, her hand held at waist-level while she walked toward the building.

  By the looks of it, there were probably only a total of five or six floors in the building. What it lacked in height, though, it more than made up for in sprawling bulk. She was walking toward a massive open door that a forklift was driving slowly out of. Several other large pieces of equipment were parked in the area closest to the building.

  Above the entrance was a simple sign that read Rayburn NextGen Solutions. She marched toward it, eyes moving around the parking lot as she went, trying to get a feel for the place and the people and equipment that might be nearby.

  Cindy realized that as her stomach tightened up more she was shuffling the cards faster and faster. Change was hard. She’d gotten used to having a little change in her life over the last few years, but this felt like a lot. It was hard not knowing where she was going to work or what was going to be expected of her once she got there. So far there was no luck finding a permanent job. It was probably just as well. She couldn’t imagine working for any of the places that she’d temped for. Her stress levels were high which was why she’d been using the cards a lot more lately to try and calm herself down. It was a habit she’d thought herself nearly broken of until the job crisis. There were worse habits, that was for sure. At least hers wasn’t dangerous or rude or messy.

  She made it to the front of the building and peered anxiously into the building’s darkened maw. She took a timid step forward, half-expecting to see another forklift to come barreling toward her.

  There was a lot of noise, shouting, the sounds of equipment moving, but nothing seemed to be coming at her. She took a couple more steps, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dimness after the bright light outside. There was a wall to her right that ran about ten feet before ending abruptly. An elevator door was in the middle of it. She moved quickly to the elevator and pressed the call button.

  When the doors slid open she stepped forward hastily and nearly collided with a large man in an expensive grey suit who was trying to exit.

  “Watch where you’re going,” he grunted as he brushed past her.

  “Sorry,” she said, wincing, as she stood for a moment before getting on the elevator.

  She pushed the button for floor five, noting that there were six floors in the building. There was also a card reader on the keypad above the floor buttons. She wondered if she’d need a card to get to her floor.

  The doors slid closed, though, and the elevator lurched sharply upward. The elevator had unadorned walls and ugly, old flooring that had probably once been cream colored. The whole thing smelled of oil and machinery. It was the type of elevator she would have expected to find in a factory and not an office building. If what she’d seen downstairs was any indication, though, this place might well be more factory than office.

  The elevator came to a hard stop when it reached her floor which jolted her and put her slightly off balance. She nearly dropped her cards and her heart flew into her mouth. Playing 52 Card Pickup in there was not her idea of a good time.

  She hurried off the elevator then stood, trying to figure out which way to go. To her left there were half a dozen cubicles, separated by walls that only went up about four feet. To her right it looked like there were a couple of offices. Like the elevator everything looked drab, functional, but at least it was carpeted and didn’t smell of steel and grease.

  She’d been told to ask for Mr. Kenneth Cartwright. She turned to the right. The rooms that could be offices had their doors clos
ed, and there were no identifying marks on them to denote what they were or who might be behind them. She turned back the other way and approached the first cubicle.

  The guy sitting in it had dark skin and close-cropped black hair. He was wearing a tie and a pale blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was frowning at something he was staring at on his computer screen.

  “Excuse me,” she said.

  He actually jumped, clearly startled and looked up at her with large eyes. He blinked several times rapidly and then asked, “Who are you?”

  “My name is Cindy Preston. I’m the new temp. I was told to ask for Mr. Cartwright.”

  He nodded, his face relaxing into a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. We don’t get a lot of visitors up here.”

  “It’s fine, I’m sorry for interrupting you,” she said.

  He stood. “I’m Leo. Nice to meet you, Cindy,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Thank you. Nice to meet you, Leo.”

  She switched her deck of cards to her left hand so she could shake his hand. After a second he let go and sat back down. “Mr. Cartwright’s office is the first one just on the other side of the elevator,” he said. “He likes to keep an eye on all of us.” His tone was joking but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “Okay, thank you.”

  She turned to go. After she’d taken a couple of steps he called after her, “Good luck, Cindy.”

  She turned, “Why do you say that?” she asked, fear coiling inside her.

  He looked at her like she was crazy, “Because you’re starting a new job. Good luck on that,” he said, speaking slowly as though she were an idiot for not getting it.

  Which she was. Of course that was how he’d meant it. She’d thought for a second that he was making a disparaging comment about Mr. Cartwright since he clearly didn’t like the fact that the man kept his eyes on everyone so closely.

  “Sorry, first day jitters,” she apologized.

  “You’re all good,” he said, turning back to his computer monitor.

  Cindy was still shuffling the cards left-handed when she stopped in front of the unmarked door. She glanced back questioningly but Leo was absorbed back into his work.

  She knocked on the door and waited, listening for an answer. She didn’t hear one. She knocked again, much louder this time, and turned her head so her ear was close to the door. Again she couldn’t hear anything. It looked like a sturdy door. It was possible that Mr. Cartwright was saying something and she couldn’t hear him.

  She stood there for a moment, wondering what to do. There was a clock on a nearby wall that let her know it was ten minutes after eight. She’d have to allow more time the next morning to park her car and walk to the building. She sighed, frustrated. Starting late on the first day was not a good thing.

  She wished there was an administrative assistant, someone she could flag down and ask for help, but that was likely the role she was here to fill.

  So, I better get around to filling it, she told herself resolutely.

  She tried the doorknob and discovered that it turned freely in her hand. She pushed the door open just a little way and knocked again, “Mr. Cartwright, I’m Cindy, the temp, are you in?”

  When silence continued to greet her she cautiously opened the door further and stepped inside. A terrible thought flashed through her mind and she sent up a quick prayer that she wasn’t about to find him dead. A few years ago that would have seemed ridiculous to her, but now it just seemed like a good precaution.

  “Hello?” she called, stepping all the way in.

  The office was spacious. There was a mahogany desk at the far end of the room with an overstuffed chair behind it. There were two other chairs, one by the door and one in front of the desk. There was a bookshelf on the wall that was filled with what looked to be law books. The opposite wall held a large, framed diploma.

  There were no bodies. At least, none that she could see. That was a relief. Of course, she didn’t really want to step around the desk to find out.

  She stood there for a few seconds, debating what to do. She had no idea where her new boss was. She contemplated taking a seat in one of the chairs and waiting for him. That might be the best choice. Otherwise she’d be standing outside for who knew how long?

  She moved to the chair in front of the desk. As she did her eyes roved briefly across the desk. He kept it neat. Very, very neat. There was one small pile of papers in an inbox and stacked above it was an outbox with another similar pile of small papers. Aside from a phone, a computer monitor, and a pen there was nothing else on his desk.

  That was good to know. He probably prized organization and efficiency over everything. So, she’d just have to make sure she stayed on top of things to help it all go smoothly.

  “What are you doing trespassing in my office?” a rough voice demanded behind her.

  She spun around to see the man that she’d run into when getting on the elevator. At that moment she lost control of the deck of cards she was still shuffling and they went flying into the air, several of them smacking him in the chest.

  ~

  It was hard for Rabbi Jeremiah Silverman not to worry about Cindy. He hated that she no longer worked next door. Not only did he not get to see her most days for lunch but he also couldn’t keep tabs on her. He liked being with shouting distance in case something went wrong. It wasn’t paranoia, bad things did happen to Cindy. He just wanted to make sure he was always there when they did.

  Ever since they’d become engaged it seemed like their lives had been turned upside down even more than usual. He knew she didn’t like doing all the temp jobs and he didn’t like it either. Most of the assignments were short, far too short to run any kind of proper background check on her coworkers. She had made him promise not to do that after the first time, but still.,,

  His office door slammed open, startling him. Detective Mark Walters was standing, framed in the doorway. Behind him, looking nonplussed was Jeremiah’s overbearing and usually overprotective secretary, Marie.

  Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. “Does he have an appointment I’m not aware of?” he asked, directing his question to Marie.

  “No, he does not,” she said with a sniff. “He insisted on barging in here and there was nothing I could do to stop him.”

  He smiled at her. “It’s fine. Hold my calls, though, until the Detective leaves.”

  Marie scowled but gave a short nod before stalking off.

  “Well, come in and tell me what’s got you so upset,” Jeremiah said to Mark.

  The detective slammed the door behind him and stalked up to Jeremiah’s desk. His aggressiveness was unusual and one look at his face told Jeremiah that his friend was upset.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  “I’m here to talk to you about something important,” Mark said roughly.

  “What is it?” Jeremiah asked, growing concerned.

  “I need you to do something for me,” he said, his voice ominous.

  “And what exactly do you want me to do?”

  Mark locked eyes with him. “I need you to kill someone.”

  2

  Jeremiah lunged out of his chair and moved around the desk.

  “Quiet,” he hissed at Mark, pulling him farther away from the door.

  His heart was pounding as he was wondering what kind of trouble Mark had gotten himself into that he’d make that kind of a request of him. He looked at his friend. The detective was more than agitated, he was exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin was pale. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

  Jeremiah put a hand on his shoulder and then shoved him down onto the couch. Mark’s legs collapsed beneath him and he fell with a grunt. Jeremiah crouched down in front of him.

  “Look at me, Mark,” he said.

  The detective was staring moodily at the ground and didn’t lift his eyes.

  “Lo
ok at me!” Jeremiah snapped.

  Mark’s head jerked upward and he met Jeremiah’s stare.

  “Okay, tell me who you want...dead,” he said.

  Mark took a deep, shuddering breath. “That no good, unreliable, betrayer.”

  “And that would be?” Jeremiah asked.

  “My sorry excuse for a partner.”

  “Liam? You want to kill Liam?” Jeremiah asked surprised.

  “Kill him dead,” Mark said solemnly.

  ~

  Cindy flushed. “I’m so sorry,” she said, crouching down to pick up her scattered cards.

  “Are you always this clumsy?” the man demanded.

  Are you always this rude? she wanted desperately to ask. Instead she just shook her head. She finished picking up her cards and stood up.

  “I’m Cindy Preston, your new temp.”

  He was staring at her with narrowed eyes. She was surprised to realize that he was about her age. She had the impression of someone older. She realized after a moment it was the expensive suit and arrogant bearing that made him seem older. He would have been a handsome man if it wasn’t for the scowl plastered on his face.

  I have a friend who could buy and sell you a hundred times over, she thought to herself. Then she gave herself a mental nudge and forced a smile. She wasn’t going to make this any better by meeting his rudeness with hostility of her own.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “Follow me.”

  He turned and walked out of the office and she scurried behind. He passed Leo without even acknowledging him, though Leo, for his part, was watching Mr. Cartwright closely.

  Her new boss stopped at the cubicle next to Leo’s. There was no one in it and the computer monitor was dark. There were, though, papers and personal effects scattered all around.