Job or death in Philadelphia

"No feeding the dog at the table," Alexander said, without looking.

"Maybe Rachel should take a nap," Larissa suddenly suggested to my husband. "She woke up in the middle of the night, went outside and was absent for about an hour. She might have insomnia. I worry about her."

Alexander looked at me with a newfound interest. Secret about my investigating job burned a hole in me, but the story of the toilet tanks held me back.

"Elvis woke me up," I lied, petting the dog's silky fur. "He had an upset stomach and needed a long walk."

"Elvis should be on a diet and eat only the vet-recommended food," Alexander said wearily. "And you keep feeding him human food at the table."

Yeah, right! What have dogs been eating for the last ten thousand years? Human food! They stuck around us because of pancakes and prime ribs. However, I didn't plan to argue with my husband tonight, but would simply get into my cozy bed and cuddle up with the new Janet Evanovich mystery novel.

Past midnight, I suddenly remembered to call Debbie to tell her about the polygraph test tomorrow. I grabbed the receiver, locked myself up in the bathroom, and turned on the water, so my hubby wouldn't hear me talking.

Debbie sounded surprised, at the least.

"A polygraph test? Do you mean a `lie detector'? Why do I have to take it? Gamma Woods claimed that the money and jewelry stolen from her when she was getting her stuff ready to move out of the office. Did you read my Irregular Incident Report?"

No, I didn't. Joe neglected to introduce me to it.

"Debbie, I know, it's terribly unfair, and it shouldn't have happened to you. But it happened. That's why we are working for you, to help you become whole again. Of course, it's unfair that you have to take this polygraph test, but this is a powerful tool to show people you're not a liar. By the way, the judge might order this Gamma Woods woman to take the test as well. Tomorrow morning at twelve, I will pick you up and take you there."

Disconnecting, I sighed with relief. The last thing would be for her to find out that I didn't know where the office of Planet Security was.

In deep thoughts, I opened the bathroom door and collided with Alex.

"Are you taking a shower with a phone?" he asked carefully.

"No, I was just checking my e-mails."

"It's a regular phone. It doesn't have a wireless network connection."

"That's why I couldn't check anything," I said coolly, and congratulated myself on a sharp comeback. In the kitchen, I warmed up milk and had it with honey: my best way to get asleep fast.

In the morning, I let myself stay in bed longer than usual, preparing for an important day. Larissa did all the morning routine for the girls and Alexander. In the morning, I let myself stay in bed a bit longer than usual, preparing for an important day. Larissa did all the morning routine for the girls and Alexander. Since I no longer had to wake up at the break of dawn to work and see the kids off to school, I stayed in bed as long as it was humanly possible.

I called Joe's office at a quarter of nine, but nobody answered. He didn't pick up his home phone, either. His cell phone was off. He was probably wearing off his pants in court. Cursing at his cheapness and reluctance to get a secretary, I left two voice messages and sent a text message to his mobile that I needed the exact time and place of the polygraph test.

In the kitchen, our new housemaid, Claudia Peres, was washing the floors. I tiptoed all the way across the wet floor to get my coffee, when I heard an entrance door opening and closing. Next, Elvis galloped into the kitchen, carrying a new toy in his mouth. Somehow, he missed my waking up and tried to make up for it now, jumping at me and offering to share the joy with him. When a hundred pounds of Elvis's muscles hit me in the stomach, I slipped on the wet floor and fell down. The quick-minded dog evaluated my brave movement for a second, and then put his new toy on my face, as I was sitting myself up. The toy, shaped like a life preserver, slid around my head and dropped on my shoulders.

"Oh," Claudia said, entering the kitchen with a brush and a bucket of water. She was a corpulent blonde Latino with a big nose and thick moustache. "Madam, take it off. You shouldn't put garbage on. This stupid dog took it from our front lawn. The other night, somebody dumped old toilets on our property. Jesus Maria, these people have no shame."

"Rachel, how are you today, dear?" Larissa came in, dressed in a long silk jacket and skirt of pale colors. My head mysteriously got stuck inside the ring, and our substitute grandmother rushed to help me take it off. She elegantly negotiated the wet tile floor with her kitten heel shoes.

"Oh," she exclaimed, turning Elvis's toy over. "It looks like a toilet seat. It's used and very dirty. Why would you hang it on your neck, Rachel?"

"Who let the dog out?" I asked indignantly.

"The dog ran away when Joe stopped by. He said he was admiring our landscaping, and asked if we started renovation of the house, because of the toilets sitting there on the front lawn." The old lady poured hot water for her tea and took a piece of paper from her pocket. "He left a note for you."

The note said: 555 Walnut Street at 2 pm.

In the next hour, I took a shower and got dressed for the trip. I wasn't even angry at my boss for his antics. We rarely, if ever, use our front driveway, because it takes too long to wait for the gates to open. This is the worst he could do, I thought. I will get back at him by solving the case and discovering the best material witnesses. The embryo of every lawsuit is greed, jealousy, revenge, or fear. Gamma and Debbie have just met, so there is no jealousy involved. Gamma got an offer for a different job with the company, so it's not greed or revenge that moved Gamma to destroy her new co-worker. Then, what we have left is fear. Gamma is afraid of something. It's plausible that Debbie, during her first orientation week, came across information damaging to Gamma. It was something that made Gamma believe that it was easier to get rid of the woman than to let her stay with the company with this information.

In the hallway, Claudia stopped me and asked me to call the township and ask them to remove the trash off the lawn. With a promise to call, I jumped into my Jaguar and took off, before something else came up.

I was driving along Pike Street towards Debbie's house when somebody honked at me. Looking around for an idiot, I saw Debbie in her gray Ford minivan waving madly at me. I parked and crossed the street to talk to her. The poor woman was shaking.

"Rachel, I've got a call from Matthew's school. Kids saw him in the woods behind the school, trying to set trees on fire. I have to get there before the police. I know how to stop him."

I got in her van, expecting to sit in filth. A single working mom with three kids doesn't have time for vacuuming the car. However, the van was spotless and even smelled good inside.

"Debbie, what exactly were they looking for when they hired you at NOSE?" I asked.

"Well, first they needed a native English speaker to teach ESL. I have some experience teaching English, since as a student I took a two-month trip to Mexico, where I volunteered as a teacher. It was a fun thing to do. After I agreed to take the job and had an interview with a human resources person, they gave me a new job description. It turned out that my position was called ESL Teacher/Job Developer, and that four days a week I was supposed to search for jobs for immigrants who are the clients of the company. In my mind, before I even started working, helping people to get decent jobs was like charity. If you know what I mean?"

I nodded.

She took a sip from her water bottle. "On May 4th, my first day of work, I received a fresh job description that ran on for two pages. Honestly, I worked for a couple of huge corporations in New York, and in other places, and I never saw a job description running through two pages. Besides teaching daily, consulting with students and developing new instruction materials, I'm supposed to hunt for jobs for immigrants, contact businesses and government agencies, and also recruit immigrants and refugees to become clients of this program. Also, I need to locate agencies and organizations, public and private, traditional and nontraditional, and pursue them in collaboration with this company. Besides, I have to perform case-working duty and to do clients' intake, to maintain voluminous case documentation."

"Sounds like an awful lot of jobs and responsibilities to me," I mumbled, impressed by her list.

"That's what I thought. I agree, it is a far cry from the teaching position I accepted." Debbie shrugged her shoulders angrily.

"Why would they trick you with a job description?"

"At first, I didn't know. Now, I understand that the people who work there, at the core of the program, are immigrants. They came to the country years ago, and they stayed with this company for ten to twenty years. They don't have an American education and they have a bizarre view of the ways American business operates. Until now, they had no problems dealing with the authorities and the job market. But now that the government has cut down on immigration, they desperately need somebody with perfect English and a knowledge of business. You know, before the 9/11 attack, the government accepted hundreds of thousands of new immigrants every year. The job market always needed more low-paid workers, and NOSE flourished. Somehow, they received a non-profit status that gave them significant privileges in conducting business. This surprised me at the very least, because they were making a hefty profit with their headhunt."

"How do they make their money?" I went from another end. Ultimately, I wanted to understand what information Debbie knew that would damage Gamma.

"This is the most interesting part," Debbie said, smiling. "I'm a Certified Public Accountant, so I always ask myself this question: How does the company make its money? And most of the time I would get no answer at all! At NOSE, I came across a very bizarre arrangement. I was helping Gamma to pack her documents, and… Oh, my God, it is a fire!" She screamed, parked the van, and ran out.

I followed her across the school parking lot into the woods that spread just three hundred feet away. Clouds of gray smoke were rising among the trees, without visible flames. Suddenly, a succession of sounds broke the silence. Either gunshots or burning evergreen branches.

"Matthew!" Debbie screamed and ran through the bushes, following her parental or maternal instinct. I tailgated her, breathing lungs full of bitter smoke. The cracking sounds were getting louder, and the next moment we stopped on the edge of a clear spot in the wood. Every tree and every bush around were burning like a torch. Fire, red and smoky, ran along the tree trunks like silk. I stopped in fascination and noticed a boy standing still in the midst of it all. Debbie grabbed her son from behind and tried to pull him out of the burning circle, but the fourteen-year-old just tossed her to the ground, with super strength, as if the fire gave him this creepy power.

"Matthew, let's go!" Debbie howled at the top of her lungs. She quickly rebounded back on her feet and grabbed her son again with both hands. The boy didn't look at her even once, just kept staring at the fire surrounding them. Suddenly, behind my back, the fire engine siren cut through the thick smoky air, and two shiny red fire trucks showed themselves among the trees.

I ran after Debbie and together we pulled her son away from the fire and out of the way of the fire crew. Matthew was taller and heavier than me, and in his stupor, his body felt like stone. Two firefighters were running toward us when Matthew saw them. He pushed his mother down again and hit me in my face with his elbow. For a second, I saw sparks flying, and my nose bled. The boy threw me off his back like a young mustang and ran towards the burning trees. Debbie got on her feet and ran after him, limping. Two heavily equipped firefighters ran behind her.

Without a sound or hesitation, Matthew ran into the burning bush. Debbie screamed hysterically but couldn't make herself go into the fire after her child. Considering the splitting pain in my eyes and nose, I didn't blame her. Two running firefighters passed her and entered the fire, looking like immortal creatures from outer space.

With a terrible noise, the fire engines finally opened their water supplies, and flooded the ground and my expensive shoes. I ran to Debbie, grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the clouds of smoke and steam and water. The police officer sent us to the ambulance, saying that the guys from the fire department got her son. "He's getting medical help," the cop added. "He got burned."

We found an ambulance parked in the school parking lot, and Debbie asked to look at her son. He was unconscious and heavily burned. His hair was gone; black cracks in his cheeks and hands oozed with a tear-like substance.

Debbie didn't even cry. Somebody gave her a bottle of water, she got into the ambulance, and they took off. A moment later, I realized I had an hour before the `lie detector' appointment.