From Brownies, Bodies and Breaking the Code,

Now available from The Wild Rose Press

(unpublished excerpt: may vary from final published version)

CodeBuster guests started to arrive for the potluck at eleven and the office party got underway. I renewed acquaintance with several wives and husbands then at noon we all started to gravitate toward the downstairs lobby. The CodeBusters Holiday buffet was an annual event we sponsored for the tenants in our building as well as our families. The other building occupants reciprocated in the summer with a barbeque. I joined the CodeBuster potluck providers in the atrium and put my brownies on the dessert table with their identifying label then joined Denise and her husband David in one of the lines. Paul was across the lobby/atrium, standing with his co-workers.

“He’s a good looking guy,” Denise said in a low voice.

I had to admit he was. Paul Henderson was big and broad-shouldered with an anchorman’s clean-cut profile. He worked in the insurance office on the first floor. I’d met him in the building’s gym when he and I were both working out. We’d chatted then we’d had a couple of lunches. I watched him examine the various food labels. Paul had an allergy to nuts, more annoying than life-threatening.

“Yeah, he is.” I took a plate from the stack at the end of the buffet table. Gus Colcannon was in a line on the other side of the room, talking with Charlie Gordon and John Slocum, the head of R&D.

“He’s a good looking guy, too,” Denise commented.

Since Charlie was plain and John was plainer, I knew who she meant. “He’s taken.”

“You could give that blonde a run for her money.”

Denise was a loyal friend and a bad liar. “That chick I saw him with the other day was a size two,” I said as I took a dollop of mashed potatoes. “I haven’t seen size two since I was ten years old. Nah. He’s taken.” I stifled a surge of disappointment at the thought. Gus Colcannon was cute in a bookish, nerdy sort of way. What a pity some babe had snared him.

Even though I’d vowed to take just a smidgen of food my plate soon filled up. We started for the cafeteria, turned over to us for this event. I glimpsed Paul inside. He gestured to a seat next to him but I shook my head. “Going up,” I said and pointed to the elevators.

“Coward,” Denise called after me with a laugh. She and David went into the cafeteria, joining other co-workers who were already seated.

I laughed, too, and scooted into the elevator behind Charlie, Gus, Nelson, and some strangers. Charlie made room for me. “I made sure to grab a couple of your brownies.” He nodded toward the extra plate in his right hand.

I glanced down. “Those aren’t mine, Charlie.”

“Huh?” He hefted the plate, which held two brownies nestled next to brightly decorated Christmas cookies. “They had your sign on ‘em.”

 I shook my head. “Mine had powdered sugar on top, not frosting.”

“What?”

I turned. Gus Colcannon was behind me. I nodded towards Charlie’s plate. “Those aren’t my brownies. Somebody must have mixed up the signs.”

“There was another plate of brownies,” Nelson said. He was tall and lanky with a Jimmy Stewart face that was almost handsome. I’d heard via the Rumor Mill that his brother or sister was sick, causing him to be absent a lot lately. “Somebody must have mixed up the signs.” The woman standing next to him nodded. She was a small, wiry person with sun-roughened skin. I didn’t recognize her but that wasn’t surprising. A lot of family members came to this event and I didn’t know everyone’s spouse.

“Damn,” Charlie said. “I wanted one of yours, Jessie. I hate brownies that have those nut chunks in ‘em. Yours are chopped up just right.”

The elevator door dinged open and we all stepped out. That’s when it hit me.

It must have hit Gus at the same moment. “Allergies,” he said. He set his plate down on the small credenza near the elevator and punched the ‘down’ button.

I set my plate next to his. “How did the signs get mixed up?” I muttered.

“You guys coming?” Charlie called out.

“No, go ahead.” I waved him off as the elevator doors opened. Gus and I stepped in.

“Did somebody else bring brownies?” he asked as the elevator glided downward.

“I don’t know.” I chewed impatiently on a fingernail. “How did the signs get mixed up?”

“Did you check the label with your name on it?”

“What?”

“Did you check it?” The elevator doors opened and Gus led the way out through a crowd of people gathered in the elevator lobby.

“No, I didn’t. It had my name on it so …”

He stopped. “Stay here. Let me check.”

“What -- why?” I peered past him. People were gathered in a group near the cafeteria, talking loudly. “What’s happening?”

He was gone, pushing through the crowd into the cafeteria only to come back almost immediately. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“They’re calling an ambulance.” He led the way into the elevator and punched the button for our floor.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “I just put the label on my plate and --”

“I know.” He tapped a staccato rhythm on the rail at the back of the elevator car.

“But I didn’t -- how did -- why --”

“Don’t worry about it. Just stay with me. We need to check and see if --”

The doors opened and we stepped out. “Check what?”

“Come on.” He jerked my arm.

“Hey. Watch it.” I tried to pull my arm away but he had me in a viselike grip.

“Come on. We’ve got to find Charlie.” He tugged me through the entry foyer, past the receptionist desk and toward the kitchen/lunchroom.

“Charlie? Why do we have to find Charlie?”

Colcannon stopped so fast I ran into him. I smelled a tangy, woodsy aftershave and felt the hard planes of his body, rigid and solid. I peeked around his shoulder.

Charlie was lying on his back on the gray and white linoleum floor in the fifth floor lunchroom, the plate of brownies scattered nearby.