Death Loves a Messy Desk Read Free

Tell me about it, including the strained atmosphere.”
    “Not strained. Poisoned. I am the office manager of a company called Quovadicon, and the desk in question belongs to one of the IT people, a fairly new employee named Barb Douglas. She’s very good at what she does, but some people in the office are wasting a lot of time fussing about her work area. Fact is, Barb never has trouble finding anything that anyone asks for. She’s helpful and does lots of extra things for people.”
    “Hmm.” I’d met enough brilliant and creative people to know that a neat desk didn’t necessarily mean a superior employee and vice versa. “Have you spoken to her about it?”
    Her hand flew to her rosebud mouth. “I’d never humiliate her in front of everyone.”
    “I meant privately.”
    Fredelle leaned over to give Truffle a little scratch behind the ears. Sweet Marie got the same. “Of course, silly me. It’s just that I’m under a lot of pressure about this touchy situation. But I feel for her. She’s started a new job and people seem to have it in for her. Believe me, it’s costing me peace in the office.”
    I bet. “Is that awkward with your other direct reports?”
    “Oh. Barb doesn’t report to me. I do rely on her for lots of equipment troubleshooting and that kind of thing. She’s very good at explaining things and showing people what to do. Our regular guy is . . .”
    “A techie.”
    “Exactly. Even though I’ve known him all his life, he’s sweet, but incomprehensible.” Truffle and Sweet Marie rolled on their backs for belly rubs. Fredelle didn’t miss a beat as we chatted.
    “Is he bothered by the desk? Is he the source of the discord?”
    “Oh no. He thinks Barb is, well, magnificent. Anyway, he would never worry about something like her desk. He’s just a bit socially awkward and he gets upset easily. He’ll hate having us in his office and he’ll probably be defensive about his new friend, Barb. That’s another reason I wanted to be so careful about this.”
    “We’ll do a walk-through and we won’t make a big deal out of it. Unless you want me to go after work hours, you could tell your staff you want me to recommend efficiencies. Everyone can improve work with a few small changes. That way Barb doesn’t feel targeted, and your techie doesn’t need to get upset. Of course, you should be prepared for fallout from one side or the other.”
    “I suppose. But I have plenty of fallout anyway.”
    “I’ll do my best. No guarantees.”
    She sighed deeply. “Thank you so much. You know, I almost didn’t approach you. I understand that you are very good at this type of thing, but you look much more, um, oh I don’t know, on television. But in person you seem so kind and friendly. Of course, I should have realized you were a nice person when you decided to sign up for Therapy Dogs.”
    I let the second television reference slide without a comment. I didn’t want to speculate as to what um, oh I don’t know might mean. Our local station, WINY, has a hate-on for me—one look at the stock footage of me would convince you I was a serial killer. Sally says there’s no such thing as bad publicity, but I’m not so sure.
    “Where can I find you?”
    “Oh, of course! Quovadicon is in the Patterson Business Park out near the I-87. We’re at 120 Valley Drive. We have a beautiful new building. State of the art. We’re very proud of it.” She fished into her small pink leather handbag. “Here’s a business card.”
    Fredelle was very pleased, and I was happy for her. I would have liked to stay and get some background on the company, but it was time to head out to Sally’s.
    Two o’clock on Monday afternoon turned out to be good for Fredelle and for me, too, as it would be my last appointment of the day and I’d be able to avoid what passes for rush hour in Woodbridge.
    “Quovadicon sounds familiar.”
    Fredelle said, “Because of the owner.”
    I must have looked blank because she