A stack of file folders was neatly arranged on one side, while a half-dozen pens, all facing in the same direction, were perfectly centered on the desk blotter. The only non-business items were a digital clock and two framed pictures. The first picture was of a young man dressed in a suit, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Dean assumed it was Jeff Byrne's son, Randy. Next to it was a full-face picture of Cynthia Byrne. Her hair was shorter and the smile on her face made her all the more attractive.
A large drawer on the left side of the desk contained files on various branch offices of the company while the drawers on the right, three in all, contained blank paper, company circulars and a few maps. Apart from the pictures, there was nothing personal in or on the desk. The top drawer contained the usual assortment of pens, pencils and paperclips. There was no computer.
Dean felt a movement behind him and looked up to see a young man in his early twenties looking down at him. He wore an Alfred E. Newman smile and was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt without a tie.
"Hi," he said, "That there's Mrs. Byrne, Jeff's wife."
"Yes, I know. I've met her." Dean rose and introduced himself
"Me too. My sister lives up in Parkside and sometimes I hook a ride up with Jeff so's I can visit." He extended his hand. "I'm Jackie Rudman. We're all sorry as hell Jeff's gone. He was okay. Do you guys think he skipped?" Dean shrugged his shoulders and perused the reports, hoping the young man would take a hint and leave. "Neat writer, ain't he? He was great with detail-always by hand. Never saw him type. I suppose you get lots of skips, don't you?"
Before Dean could answer, Mayer returned and Rudman beat a hasty retreat to his cubby hole. Dean was left standing there, Cynthia Byrne's picture in hand, a report in another.
"She's quite a looker, isn't she?" Mayer said, "And quite a lady."
"Yes," replied Dean. "I guess you've met her."
"A few Christmas parties, that sort of thing." Mayer answered.
Dean replaced the picture. "Did they get along?"
Mayer thought a minute. "Are you married?" he asked.
"No, why?" answered Dean.
"Then maybe you wouldn't understand but they were what marriage is supposed to be. I know. And I know what marriage ought not to be! I'm working on wife number three and I think she's working on somebody else. Jeff and Cindy? They were like Barbie and Ken, for cripe's sake."
"Did Byrne fool around?" Someone behind them laughed out loud and Dean turned to see a young man cover his mouth and apologize.