Chapter 5 - The Offer Galen Thought She Would TakeThe detective wanted Jolie to change her routines.
Different routes.
Different arrival times.
No early-morning jobs alone.
Temporary camera at her house.
Jolie agreed to all of it.
Then spent the next day furious that she had agreed.
“I built my business around being dependable,” she told Cullen over the phone.
“Being alive is generally considered dependable.”
“That isn’t funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“You sound like my grandmother.”
“Your grandmother sounds intelligent.”
“She also thinks microwaves destroy vitamins.”
“I withdraw the compliment.”
That silence lasted three seconds.
Then Jolie laughed.
Cullen found himself smiling in his office.
It happened too easily now.
He didn’t like how much he noticed.
On Thursday, Galen called again.
This time, Jolie was prepared.
She was sitting in the Amarillo Police Department interview room with the detective nearby.
Cullen was not allowed inside.
He waited in the hallway.
The call lasted four minutes.
When Jolie emerged, her face was pale.
“What happened?”
“He offered me ten thousand dollars.”
Cullen’s eyes hardened.
“For what?”
“To sign a statement saying I accidentally used an industrial product on the glass.”
“You told him no.”
“Obviously.”
“What else?”
“He said nobody had to know.”
Cullen’s voice became very quiet.
“And?”
“He said if I signed, he’d make sure ‘all this trouble’ stopped.”
Cullen turned toward the detective.
“That’s a threat.”
“We’re treating it seriously.”
“Treat it faster.”
Jolie touched Cullen’s sleeve.
“Don’t.”
He looked down at her hand.
She removed it immediately.
“Sorry.”
“No.”
His answer came too quickly.
Jolie looked away.
The detective cleared his throat.
“We’re building the case. Galen denied being near Strickland. We now have evidence contradicting that. The financial records involving Wade are being reviewed.”
“Can you arrest either of them?”
“Not yet.”
Cullen hated the words.
Jolie seemed to accept them better.
“What can we do?”
“Keep documenting. Avoid contact. Call immediately if either approaches you.”
Outside, Cullen walked Jolie to her truck.
Two new tires.
New lock on the equipment compartment.
A small security camera mounted near the rear window.
“You replaced the lock too?”
“Company expense.”
“Cullen.”
“Send me another check.”
She stared at him.
He stared back.
Finally, she shook her head.
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“By your ex-wife?”
“Frequently.”
Jolie winced.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Jolie said, “Posie has a school carnival Saturday.”
“That was a dramatic change of subject.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you look like you’re about to interrogate a tire.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
She opened the driver’s door.
“What about the carnival?”
Jolie hesitated.
Then looked mildly annoyed at herself.
“She asked if you were coming.”
Cullen blinked.
“Why would I be coming?”
“Exactly what I asked.”
“What did she say?”
“That you need practice having fun.”
Cullen stared.
Jolie’s mouth twitched.
“She may have heard that phrase somewhere.”
“You.”
“Possibly.”
“What time?”
Now Jolie looked genuinely surprised.
“You want to come?”
“No. But apparently my personal development has been scheduled.”
Saturday afternoon, Cullen Strickland stood in the playground of Ridgeview Elementary holding three orange carnival tickets and questioning every decision that had brought him there.
Children screamed around him.
A teacher dressed as a scarecrow sold cupcakes.
Someone had placed a plastic spider inside his jacket pocket without his knowledge.
Then Posie appeared carrying a beanbag.
“You came!”
“I was told attendance was mandatory.”
“It is.”
Jolie followed.
She wore jeans and a rust-colored sweater.
No cleaning uniform.
No gloves.
No defensive posture.
For one second, Cullen simply looked at her.
Jolie noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was definitely something.”
“You look different.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“Because I’m not carrying a squeegee?”
“Possibly.”
“Careful, Mr. Strickland. That almost sounded like a compliment.”
Before he could answer, Posie grabbed his hand.
“Ring toss.”
For two hours, Cullen was defeated by children at ring toss, beanbag throw, and miniature bowling.
He won a stuffed armadillo only after spending fourteen dollars on a game designed for kindergarteners.
Posie named it Craig.
“Why Craig?” Cullen asked.
“He looks like a Craig.”
Cullen could not argue with that.
Late in the afternoon, Jolie and Cullen stood near the fence while Posie painted a pumpkin.
“You’re good with her,” Jolie said.
He looked uncomfortable.
“I lost twelve dollars to a child selling raffle tickets.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.”
Jolie watched him.
Cullen stared toward Posie.
“I wanted children once.”
The confession came quietly.
Jolie said nothing.
“My ex-wife did too. For a while.”
“What happened?”
“We kept postponing everything.”
“Work?”
“Mostly me.”
He watched Posie paint one side of the pumpkin entirely purple.
“I thought there would always be another year.”
Jolie’s voice softened.
“There usually is.”
“Until there isn’t.”
They stood beside each other.
Not touching.
Close enough to know they could.
Then Cullen’s phone rang.
Ben Harlan.
“Cullen, you need to come to the store.”
“What happened?”
“We opened one of your father’s old accounting cabinets.”
Cullen looked at Jolie.
Ben continued.
“There are files on Voss.”
An hour later, Jolie, Cullen, and the detective stood in Carl Strickland’s former office.
The records dated back eleven years.
Complaints.
Invoice corrections.
Photographs.
Three different properties where glass damage had occurred while Voss Building Services held contracts.
Each incident had been blamed on an employee.
Each replacement job had been handled by a company connected to one of Galen’s acquaintances.
Then they found the Polk Building file.
Jolie recognized the photograph immediately.
“That’s mine.”
Cullen looked at her.
“The damage you were blamed for?”
“Yes.”
Inside the folder was a handwritten statement.
An employee states she used only approved product. Voss claims otherwise. Employee appears credible. Investigate replacement-company relationship before paying invoice.
Carl Strickland.
Jolie stared at the handwriting.
“He believed me.”
“Looks like he did.”
“He never met me.”
“Maybe he didn’t need to.”
Her eyes filled.
For years, she had carried that photograph as proof she needed to protect herself.
Now, hidden in a dead man’s cabinet, she had found proof that at least one stranger had seen what she could not prove.
She covered her mouth.
Cullen moved beside her.
He did not touch her.
Not until she leaned against him.
Then his hand settled carefully on her shoulder.
Jolie cried for exactly thirty seconds.
Then stepped away, embarrassed.
“Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“I hate crying in offices.”
“Specific dislike.”
“Bad history.”
The detective interrupted.
“There’s enough here for subpoenas and a broader fraud investigation.”
Cullen nodded.
Then Ben entered carrying another folder.
“You need to see the email printout.”
It had been found behind the Voss files.
Carl had printed an email from Galen ten months before his death.
You’re making a mistake, Carl.
You think that little Cantrell woman can do better?
People like her always get desperate eventually.
When she ruins something expensive, don’t come asking me to fix it.
Jolie’s skin turned cold.
“How did he know my name ten months before I got the Strickland account?”
Nobody answered.
Because according to every record Jolie had seen, she had never been considered for the Strickland contract until six months after Carl died.
Cullen searched the remaining documents.
Then found a yellow sticky note on the back of a photograph.
Call Cantrell when current contract ends.
Saw her cleaning Miller’s windows in wind. Checks corners twice. Keeps records. Better than Voss.
— C.S.
Jolie stared at the words.
Carl Strickland had noticed her.
Years before Cullen did.
He had planned to hire her.
And somehow Galen had found out.
Cullen looked at Jolie.
“This started before you ever cleaned one of our windows.”
She nodded slowly.
Galen had not simply wanted his old account back.
May you like
He had been angry that Carl Strickland had chosen Jolie before she even knew she was being considered.
And for years, Galen had waited for a chance to prove Carl wrong.
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