Tuesday
To his credit, Stokes didn’t deny it. “It wasn’t me; it was someone on my team.” He turned to the bartender, who was hovering nearby. “Whatever you have on draft,” he said. The bartender motioned to an array of spigots a few feet away, all with colorful logos.
Stokes looked them over. “Pale Ale will do.”
The bartender nodded his approval.
I changed the subject. “If you needed to check up on me, you should have contacted me directly.”
“We were still doing recon on the terrain.”
Team? Recon? Terrain? Was this how security chiefs spoke in the hallowed corporate corridors now? “This isn’t about reviving the videos, is it?”
The bartender brought Stokes a frosted mug of Pale Ale. Stokes shook his head grudgingly. “No. I’ll get to the point. We know you ‘retrieved’ a flash drive from Gregory Parks the day he died.”
“And you know this how?”
“That doesn’t matter.” His pale eyes turned steely. He took a swig of his ale.
“It does to me.”
He went quiet for a moment. Had he not expected to be challenged? Did he expect me to capitulate like a “good girl”?
He rubbed his nose and broke eye contact. “Charlotte Hollander told me.”
He was lying. Or at least not telling me the entire truth. “Are you the ones who’ve been bugging my phone? And hacking into my computer?”
He looked surprised. “No. Is there a reason I should be?”
That response appeared to be genuine, but everybody lies when it comes to protecting their interests. “By the way, what happened to Hollander? She seems to have disappeared.”
He turned it back on me. “Why do you care?”
I gave him the same answer I’d given the HR official, which, if he was a decent security person, he already knew. “The video of course. We were planning to resurrect it. Now I’m told she was transferred.”
He cleared his throat. “That’s right.”
“Where?”
“Sorry. That’s on a need-to-know basis.”
“Seriously? Do you really think the world cares about one executive at one company?”
“You’d be surprised.” He took a long pull on his ale. “Back to the drive. Hollander told us you had it. We need it.”
But I wasn’t ready to talk about the drive. “You blew up Dolan’s office, didn’t you?”
“I can’t comment about that.”
“What are you, ex-CIA or something?”
“Or something.”
“Look, Mr. Stokes, or whatever your name is, I’ve had enough of whatever cat-and-mouse game you’re playing. We’re done here.” I swiveled away from him, about to slide off my stool and leave.
“We’re not done, Ms. Foreman.”
“Yes. We are. I left a message for Hollander telling her I would give the drive back to her. And that’s who I’ll give it to.”
“You don’t understand. She’s gone. And she’s not coming back.”
I froze. “Is she dead?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
I let out a breath. “Well, then, exactly what are you aware of?”
“Look.” He leaned toward me and slid his hands down to his knees, an aggressive position for someone on a barstool. “I’m trying to do this the nice way. But if you don’t cooperate, you’ll force me to take other measures.”
“Look, Stokes. I don’t like threats.” I mimicked his body language and tone. “I don’t owe you anything. Two hours ago I didn’t know you existed. You say you work at Delcroft, but I don’t know that for sure. I may not have the information you do, but I’m not an idiot. If you really are from Delcroft, you already have the conversations and emails.” Even I knew that corporate emails were subject to eavesdropping by employees’ superiors.
He colored from the neck up. More of a slow burn than an explosion. But I was on a roll. “I have an idea of what’s on that drive. Or could be. But until I’m sure it will get to the right people, I’m not handing it over to anyone.”
“You might want to reconsider that. Your life could become unpleasant.”
I swigged the last of my wine. “If anything happens to me, anything at all, I’ll know who’s responsible. And I’ll make sure other people know too.”
He kept his mouth shut. He was probably wondering how he’d screwed this up. But I didn’t know if I was right either. I didn’t want the drive, but something about this guy irritated the hell out of me. I just couldn’t give it to him. I wanted to tell him I knew he was at Hollander’s last weekend, behaving like a common thief. Then again, Luke and I were there too.
He levered himself off the stool and pulled his ball cap farther down his forehead. “This was not a smart move on your part.” His voice was laced with acid.
I rose too, opened my bag, and pulled out my wallet. “It may not be. But I have nothing to hide. What about you?”
He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I threw a ten on the bar. He’d have to pay for his own drink. “By the way, it would be nice of you to call off your dogs. The ones that are tailing me, tapping my phone, and hacking my computer.” I didn’t believe him when he’d denied it. “Or perhaps I should call your CEO. Brian Riordan, right?”
He surprised me with his reply. “Miss Foreman, it wasn’t us hacking into your comms. But you can be damn sure it will be going forward.”