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    Purgatory, Inc.
    Purgatory, Inc.
    Purgatory, Inc.
    Ebook287 pages3 hours

    Purgatory, Inc.

    By M.E. Clayton

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    What happens when your boss ends up dead and no one is sad about it?

    Unfortunately, a suspect pool that includes the whole damn city.

    Callie
    As the human resources manager for Melko Medical Industries, Callie Callows knows firsthand how vicious their boss is. If Callie could, she’d set up an anti-depressant dispenser next to the coffee machine in the break rooms. The real shame of the situation is that Melko is a great company to work for, and everyone had been happy to work there. At least, until Satan Re-born had started working there, too.

    So, when the vicious viper turns up dead, the question isn’t who would want her dead; the question is who wouldn’t want to see her dead. Still, a dead body isn’t the worst of it...I mean, it is, but it isn’t. The real drama comes when Callie recognizes one of the lead detectives investigating the case as the same man that she left sprawled out, passed out, and naked in bed the Saturday morning before.

    Theodore
    As one of the lead detectives in a murder case where the suspect pool includes almost everyone under the sun, Theodore Marsden has enough stress in his life. Still, when the murderer could be anyone from one of the victim’s employees to the kid who bagged her groceries to the nuns down the street to...well, you get the picture...it’s anyone’s guess who killed the horrible woman.

    So, when Theo begins to do what it is he does, he discovers a bigger issue at hand. Granted, a dead body is a pretty big issue, but when he comes across the one person who can narrow down the list of suspects, not only doesn't she like talking to the police, but she’s the same uninhibited spitfire who had snuck out of his bed Saturday morning, leaving him pissed off and wanting more.

    When a murder really should take precedence over everything else...
    While the main focus really should be letting the police do their jobs and find Margot Livingston’s killer, Callie can’t get that night with Theo out of her mind. Even though he’s had to recuse himself from the case because of his association with Callie, that doesn’t mean the drama is over.

    While the case is still ongoing, Theo is doing his best to juggle his attraction to Callie and remaining professional enough as not to jeopardize Margot Livingston’s murder case. However, the more time he spends with Callie, the more he can’t get her out of his mind.

    No matter what Callie and Theo have going on, one thing still remains: there’s a murderer on the loose, and no one knows whether to be frightened or thankful. Relationship drama or not, is Callie working alongside a murderer? Theo’s going to do everything he can to make sure that she’s not.

    NOTE: This book contains adult language, adult situations, explicit sexual encounters, violence, and murder. If sensitive to any of the aforementioned issues, please do not purchase.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherM.E. Clayton
    Release dateDec 25, 2018
    ISBN9780463193228
    Purgatory, Inc.
    Author

    M.E. Clayton

    M.E. Clayton works fulltime and writes as a hobby only. She is also an avid reader and Pinterest addict. When she's not working, reading, writing, or on Pinterest, she is spending time with her family and friends, or her dog, Boy, or her cat, Seatbelt. She lives in California with her husband and enjoys doing nothing but reading. Seriously. She does nothing but read. However, that's how she likes it.

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      Book preview

      Purgatory, Inc. - M.E. Clayton

      Just a couple of things before I let you go and get your read on. While I am doing my best to work with better editing and proofreading software, all my books are solo, independent works. I write my books, proofread my books, edit my books, create the covers, etc. I have one beta who gives me feedback on my stories, but other than that, all my books are independent projects.

      That being said, I apologize, in advance, for the typos, grammar inconsistencies, or any other mistakes I may make. Since writing is strictly a hobby for me, I haven’t looked into commitments in regard to publishers, editors, etc. My hope is that my stories are enjoyable enough that a few mistakes, here and there, can be overlooked. However, if you’re a stickler for grammar, my books are probably not for you.

      Also, I am an avid reader-I mean an AVID reader. I love to read above any other hobby. However, the only downside to my reading obsession is when I fall in love with a series, but I have to wait for the additional books to come out. So, because I feel that disappointment down to my soul, when I started publishing my works, I vowed to publish all books in my series all at once. No waiting here…LOL. Now, the exception to that will be if enough readers request additional stories based off the standalone, such as in Facing the Enemy. At that point, if I decide to move forward with a requested series, I will make sure all additional books are available all at once. As much as this is a hobby for me, I am writing these books for all of you, as well as myself.

      Thank you, for everything!

      Contact Me

      I really appreciate you reading my book and I would love to hear from you! Now, unfortunately, because I do have a full-time job and one part-time job, plus a family that I love spending time with, I’m not very active on social media. However, for the sites I do participate in, here are my social media coordinates:

      Website

      News & Updates

      Author Pages

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      Other Books

      Dedication

      For anyone who has ever had one of those bosses…LOL.

      Prologue

      They were all fucking idiots; every last one of them.

      How could I be expected to take this division to the next level when I was surrounded by incompetent fools? I mean, how hard was it to follow simple directions anyway?

      Also, fuck the company’s view on employee growth and development. If H.R. had the intelligence to hire competent people with brains to begin with, I wouldn’t have to waste my time showing them how to tie their own fucking shoes.

      I mean, fuck.

      I had that twit, Beverly, talking about brainstorming work and home time management like I gave a fuck about her family or anyone else’s. If they didn’t want to put in the work hours, then they shouldn’t be here. They could take their useless degrees and go flip burgers somewhere if they wanted to be home in time for dinner every night.

      Besides, I was the boss. If I said that no one was going home until a project was completed, then no one was going the fuck home. Plus, it wasn’t like they didn’t get paid for their goddamn time. In my opinion, they got paid way more than what they were worth. Unfortunately-or I guess, fortunately for them-Melko paid well, whether you deserved it or not.

      Plain and simple.

      Then there was that stupid bitch, Callie, from H.R., and she was always trying to tell me that I needed to watch how I spoke to people. She was always telling me that I needed to understand that everyone responded to criticism differently, and that I needed to be sensitive to that. Well, fuck that shit. I wasn’t here to hold my employees’ dicks or pet their pussies. If they didn’t have the backbone required to work for me, then they could quit. It wasn’t like it was that hard to replace a fucking idiot anyway.

      Goddamn it, this was my domain. I was the queen of this fucking castle, and if they didn’t like it, they could leave. Or, better yet, I’d be more than happy to show them out the fucking door.

      Plus, if it weren’t enough that Callie and Beverly were stupid cunts, I had those two Hispanic bitches, Lucia and Carmen, thinking that they could hide behind equal opportunity. I was all for equal opportunity if the people benefitting from it weren’t stupid. My team was made up of four women and four men, and the only thing that made the women tolerable were the men. Sure, Brent, Cody, Jeremiah, and Ryan were just as stupid and shortsighted as the women, but at least they were nice to look at.

      The more that I thought about my management team, the more that I needed to get out of here and grab a drink. If I stayed and gave anymore thought to how stupid my team was, I’d burn the building down.

      I shut my computer down, then gathered my stuff. I was pulling my jacket off the garment rack when I heard a noise behind me. I whirled around, but I couldn’t make out much with the darkness enveloping the office floor. It was past ten at night and there was no reason for anyone to be in the building, except for me. The cleaning crew didn’t show up on this floor until after midnight.

      I stepped out of the doorway from my office, and I had to squint my eyes to try to make out anything or anyone in the darkness. Hello? Who’s here?

      I jumped slightly when I saw a figure slowly emerging from the hallway to my right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.

      I narrowed my eyes. What the fuck? I hadn’t authorized any overtime. Besides me, there was no reason for anyone to still be in the building after hours. I also sure as fuck didn’t appreciate being startled. What in the hell are you still doing here?

      Uhm, I’m actually here to see you.

      I folded my arms across my chest, my jacket wrapped around in between my arms with my purse hanging off my shoulder. "And this couldn’t wait until the morning? You had to see me now?"

      A careless shrug of the shoulder was all I got. Morning wouldn’t have worked for me.

      Just like that, I saw red.

      Like I gave a fuck what would work and what wouldn’t work for anyone other than me. I was the boss. I don’t have time for you right now. In case it’s escaped your notice, it’s past ten o’clock at night. I turned, and then over my shoulder, I added, Don’t make me remind you who calls the shots around here. You make time for me, not the other way around.

      I was on the floor before the confusion had ebbed, realizing what was happening. The pain radiating at my scalp when a hand had fisted in my hair, pulling and yanking me back, had stunned me. I was still slightly confused as the wind was knocked out of my lungs as I was thrown to the floor.

      However, realization and panic finally took root as I stared up into a pair of eyes that were filled with so much hate that I was rendered immobile by it.

      Spittle rained down on my face as words that I understood but couldn’t quite comprehend were thrown at me. You think you can bully people? You think you can just treat people like shit and it’s okay? The words turned into screams. You think you can fuck with people’s lives like you’re God or something?!

      I could have fought back, but shock at anyone daring to challenge me had really paralyzed me. The shock also had me ignoring the glint off the steel coming towards me. The plunges into my chest, neck, face…were they really happening?

      Christ, they were.

      I was being stabbed to death, but all I could think about was how dare anyone attack me because…well, didn’t they know who the fuck I was?

      Chapter 1

      The Ninth Circle of Hell.

      Callie~

      If you could name it, I had it.

      I had the lavender-infused hand cream that was supposed to calm and soothe the spirit tucked safely away in my desk drawer. I had the essential oil-infused bead bracelets that I religiously doused in lavender, peppermint, and lemongrass every evening adorning my delicate left wrist. My computer’s screensaver background was a relaxing dark grey with inspirational quotes thrown haphazardly across the computer screen. I had even traded in my preferred choice of musical background tunes to play nothing but symphonic music; soothing and relaxing.

      Once upon a time I, Callie Callows, used to just use regular hand cream that didn’t boast of any relaxing properties. Once upon a time, bracelets had been simple fashion accessories. Once upon a time, my computer screensavers had been quirky and fun. Once upon a time, the music playing at work had come from my iPod playlist that had everything from N.W.A. to Olivia Newton-John to George Strait.

      Once upon a time, my office had been filled with pictures of my family, friends, and my favorite sports teams. Once upon a time, I’d had gifts that had been given to me by my co-workers lining the bookshelves.

      Once upon a time, my department had been recognized as the best in the western region. The back wall of my office could attest to that fact with all the plaques and certificates of achievements and recognition. My department used to have an open-door policy, and I’d had always made sure that my face was recognizable throughout the building.

      I was the Human Resources Manager for The Melko Corporation’s Northern California Division. Melko had offices located all throughout the country, and they specialized in medicinal science. Their Northern California office consisted of nothing but administrative work while their Central and Southern California Divisions were a combination of administrative and scientific. They had labs while the NCD had only one small on-site lab that was used for minor testing. All in all, Melko boasted of fourteen locations throughout the nation with Baltimore, Maryland housing its headquarters. The locations varied from science labs to administrative work to actual hospitals for experimental treatments.

      Once upon a time, I’d been living the dream. I had graduated high school as valedictorian, then had gone on to graduate from Stanford with honors. I had interned for Melko during my junior and senior years in college, and I’d known, without a doubt, that Melko had been the place for me. I had worked my way up from being one of the many human resources assistants at Melko NCD to the Human Resources Manager position.

      For five glorious years, I had worked my ass off to be a fair and approachable human resource manager. I had made sure to walk each of the fifteen floors that made up Melko NCD, and I had made sure that my face was familiar and friendly. I had wanted to shake the bad reputation that could often plague human resources.

      Then The Ninth Circle of Hell had descended upon us all, and my life hasn’t been the same since. Erasing all those once upon a times, I lived in Dante’s Purgatory with my own personal chapter now, and that chapter was titled Hell in Deadly, Six-Inch, Red-Bottom Heels.

      A year ago, the Division Manager for NCD had retired. He had put in a solid thirty years and had wanted to move on to the next phase of his life. Malcolm Hughes had been a wonderful and dedicated boss. He had managed to balance the good with the bad. He had been encouraging, yet firm. He had been strong, yet fair. Malcolm had just had it all. His retirement party had been attended by everyone. Even some team members from the central and southern divisions had made the trip up north to celebrate his retirement.

      When Malcolm had announced his retirement, everyone had been on pins and needles over the flurry of rumors and speculation over who would be taking his place. I had put my money on Lucia Mendez, thinking that Lucia had been the best fit out of everyone qualified.

      However, I’d been wrong.

      So very wrong.

      No, really.

      So very, very, very wrong.

      A week after Malcolm’s official last day, Melko corporate employees had shown up with his replacement, Margot Livingston.

      Margot. Fucking. Livingston.

      Now, take the worse boss that you’d ever worked for, multiply them by a billion, and that was Margot.

      An entire year later, the lavender scents, the calming beads, the prayers, the yoga, the aroma therapy, the masseuses, the pedicures, the self-help books…none of them had made any progress in restoring my once happy soul. Where I used to be a beacon of light for this division, I was now the enemy, and it was all because Margot Livingston was a grade-A bitch.

      Margot was a horrible, awful, evil human being, and everyone was blaming me for not being able to end Margot’s reign of terror, though I wanted to.

      Oh, Lord, how I wanted to.

      However, no one felt safe enough to put their grievances on paper and actually file a formal complaint against Margot. If I went after her without any documented proof, I knew that I’d be going after her alone, and I wasn’t quite ready to risk my job for people that weren’t going to back me up while I defended their misery.

      I’d seen it too many times.

      You go and stand up for a person, but once that someone was confronted with the accusation, they would claim ignorance or try to play if off as nothing.

      Still, I got it.

      I really did.

      No one wanted to be out of a job.

      However, that still didn’t change the facts. I’d fry, and I’d fry alone if I went after Margot without any documented proof of harassment with me.

      Nevertheless, that still didn’t mean that I shouldn’t be doing something about Margot. So, every time that Margot got out of hand, I’d have private opportunity talks with her, and I’d been logging the employee contact discussions just to play it safe.

      At least, it was Friday…well, Friday for most of us. Margot loved beating everyone up during the weekends with email, after email, after email of directions and demands.

      "You know headaches can’t be proven, right? I mean, you can just say that you have a headache without actually giving yourself one."

      I ignored the voice that I knew as well as my own and continued to thump my head against the top of my oak desk. The steady beat of each thump had actually turned out to be quite soothing. That was until one of Jeremiah Jackson’s (my work partner in crime) hands slipped in between my head and the desk, cushioning the thumps.

      I sat upright since he interrupted my groove and narrowed my eyes at him. You’re fucking with my morning meeting calming ritual, Jay.

      Jeremiah made himself at home by sitting on the corner of my desk. We’ve already been over this, babe. The only thing that’s going to work is a priest that’s authorized in exorcisms, he replied consolingly.

      I threw my head back against my chair and looked up at the ceiling. I wonder where I can fit that into the department’s budget.

      Employee morale, he suggested as if I were slow in the head for not thinking of it sooner.

      I brought my head back down and studied Jeremiah. You know, if you had any love for me whatsoever, you’d sacrifice your manhood and pipe her a good one, so that she can chill the fuck out.

      Jeremiah cringed. "I do love you, but you are out of your mind if you think that I’d ever go near that, he replied, shivering a bit. I’d bet my paycheck that she’s sporting a Venus Fly Trap, instead of a normal vagina."

      I lifted my brows at that visual. So, then what do you think about the rumors of her and Cody?

      Jeremiah shivered again. "I don’t think about them. Hell, I don’t want to think about them, he stressed. Now quit being melodramatic, and let’s get our asses up to the conference floor before she sends her flying monkeys after us." Jay’s pep talk sucked, but I still complied.

      I gathered my notebook, my notepad, and my pens. I had learned the hard way to always have an extra pen on hand in case the ink ran out of one of them. It would be so much easier to tape the meetings, but because Margot was so vicious, she had banned all recording devices from any of the meetings. We couldn’t have proof of her harassment now, could we?

      Jay and I had just entered the elevator to the top floor when Lucia Mendez and Brent Elliot scooted in behind us. Lucia was one of the senior department managers, and she nailed the mood as she hit the button for the fifteenth floor. Christ, why do I always feel like I’m in a scene from The Hunger Games every time she calls a meeting?

      Brent and Jay were both senior project managers, so we were all very familiar. Because it’s survival of the fittest around that snake, Brent answered.

      Jay shook his head. It’s pretty damn sad when we’re all willing to throw each other under the bus just to redirect her attention, yet we’re all okay with it, Jeremiah added. Talk about cheering everyone on to save themselves.

      Guilt felt like a sledgehammer to my chest. I was the manager of all employee relations, and I hadn’t been able to make even one dent in Margot’s professional personality. I’m sorry, guys. I’m trying. I really am. Normally, I wouldn’t speak so freely in front of people because my job title represented the upmost in confidentiality. However, Lucia, Brent, and Jeremiah were part of the cool-kids clique, and I trusted them.

      Jay immediately went to my defense. Nonsense, Callie. We are all very aware of what you’re dealing with. You don’t need to apologize to us.

      Brent and Lucia mumbled their agreement, but I still felt wretched about making so little progress with that succubus that enjoyed draining our souls.

      She was definitely the type to eat her young.

      The elevator doors opened, and we all walked out onto the fifteenth floor that was occupied by Margot only. She shared her space with her assistant and her secretary, and you weren’t allowed to bother her unless you’d been screened by both of them. It was like having to sit and wait to see The Great Wizard of Oz. Except that Margot wasn’t great, and

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