Chapter Five

Faith read her printout of Steve Zurich’s preliminary report while she drank her Monday morning coffee. When she’d finished the last of the four pages, she put the report down, sighed, and flipped through the scanned newspaper clippings.

Most of the information duplicated what she’d already read in online company profiles and news feeds. Victor was married to a woman named Emmeline who was born into a society family. She was the company’s namesake and wealthy widow of the company’s founder. One gossip column mentioned they lived in a stately mansion, owned a condo in Vail and a fifteen-room “cottage” in Maine, and a few years ago, Victor had purchased a half interest in a thoroughbred racehorse. From the society page copies, she concluded he and his wife attended every gala event in Palm Beach.

She stared at one of the photos. Victor’s chest was puffed out, and he stood like a reigning king. The caption said he’d declined repeated requests to run for an open congressional seat, but pledged financial support to the nominee of the party.

Her blood heated. He didn’t deserve to be happy and successful. He didn’t deserve accolades, didn’t deserve respect. He was a common criminal, even though he had no police record. Somehow she had to reveal his true colors to the world.

She shoved the useless report into her desk drawer, logged back onto the Internet, and continued with her own investigation. Her fingers flew over the familiar rows of plastic keys, each with its neat block letter and slightly concave upper face. The clicking of the keys soothed her nerves. Working alone on a computer, she was comfortable and in control. Unlike people, the machine didn’t care about personalities, or money, or manners, just precise commands, proper logic, and established procedures.

If only the problems in life could be solved like a computing problem.

An hour later, she had an unsolvable computing problem. The error message read:

The information you have requested is not available online.

Please visit our office for access to the pertinent microfiche records.

Her search of the marriage records in New York City had hit another dead end.

In previous searches, she’d uncovered an obscure reference to Victor’s address in his maternal grandmother’s obituary and deduced that shortly after he raped her mother he’d left Williamsburg and gone to New York. About a year after she was born, when he was twenty-two, he’d applied for a marriage license with a Ruby Swain. This morning, she’d hoped to dig up some information about that marriage. She’d tracked down the likely location of the records, but they were too old to be online.

She made a mental note to find and contact a detective in New York who could search the archives, then turned her attention to the computer system at Emmeline’s.

The Unix operating system was full of security holes, and the source code was readily available for anyone to modify. The email system should be easy to hack.

Faith smiled sadly, remembering Richard, the computer lab partner who had taught her advanced hacking skills her sophomore year of college. His genius IQ and insatiable curiosity had drawn her to him, and for a while, she’d had a crush on him, or more correctly, his exceptional brain. Being a socially stunted geek and hanging around with other geeks like Richard, she’d learned many skills outside the realm of a normal engineering curriculum.

For a while, she’d enjoyed the thrill of sitting by Richard’s side, helping him circumvent corporate security firewalls and probe system loopholes, plant messages for security personnel informing them they’d been outsmarted, and triumphantly back out leaving everything intact. But Richard lost his hero status when he devised a plan to break the law and hack a military database simply to prove it could be done. Fearful of the ramifications of being caught, she’d told Richard to count her out. He’d been scornful of her reluctance, belittling her capabilities and inflaming her insecurities.

The hurt was still there, sending out poisonous messages whenever she had thoughts of the future and someday meeting another interesting man. The little negative voice never failed to warn her to protect her heart and not even think about a serious relationship. She’d seen Richard’s behavior as proof of her mother’s warnings: Men couldn’t be trusted to do the right thing, and love was stupid. Trusting would make her vulnerable to getting her heart bruised again. She’d heeded her mother’s advice and avoided men, that way she’d never have to face the pain of loss.

There’s no time for emotion or analysis of the past or future now.

She pushed the disturbing memories away and concentrated on remembering the wealth of skills she’d learned from Richard, one of which would prove useful today. That skill could get past Emmeline’s pathetic system defenses and give her access to copies of all Victor Telemann’s new and archived emails.

A ripple of anticipation and excitement raced down her spine, followed quickly by a reprimand from her conscience. She was eating a forbidden fruit and excitement was a bad sign. It might be revealing she had bad genes passed on by her father.

Chewing her lip, she told herself violating Victor’s privacy was a necessary evil that would bring a criminal to justice and reading a few emails was nowhere near as invasive as the communication monitoring in the system she’d helped design for the government. She logged onto the Unix network server, typed two lines of code at the prompt, and then stretched her finger toward enter.

Gladys Pooson stepped through the doorway.

Faith’s heart skipped a beat, and her fingers froze. Trying to act casual, she reached for the end key. Hit it. It activated a pre-programmed macro. She held her breath as the window on her monitor cleared then flashed up a block of code for a data entry form.

She aimed a smile at Gladys. “Hi, is there something I can do for you?”

Behind her friendly mask, her pulse pounded madly in her throat. The thick carpeting in the hallway made hearing people approach almost impossible. She needed to be more aware, stay alert and on guard. Keeping her job and access to the computer system was priority one. No one could discover her snooping.

Especially anyone who might report her to Victor.

…

Four forty-five. Time to make his move and find out if Emmeline’s was harboring a corporate spy.

Kent ducked into the small private restroom attached to his office, checked his appearance in the mirror, and smoothed down his lucky silk tie. Jack passed him the keys to the new car, and he stashed them in his pocket, then walking beside Jack, he headed for the elevator. When they stepped out onto the fourth floor, he saw the door to Josie Ashland’s office was open and nodded to Jack.

Jack strolled down the empty hallway, glanced in the proper doorway, continued a few paces, then turned and came back. He flashed Kent a grin and a thumbs-up, she’s-in-there-and-alone, before boarding the elevator for home.

Wondering what prompted Jack’s grin, Kent launched his approach. He’d braced himself for a warthog face by the time he stopped at the doorway to size up his target.

Relief washed over him. The woman’s eyes were trained on her computer monitor and her fingers poised over the keyboard, but he saw enough to know she was pleasant to look at. Shiny brown hair, cute little chin, slightly pursed, red lips that looked absolutely luscious. He usually preferred blondes, but in this case he wasn’t choosing. And if he had to spend time with a potential spy, at least this one would be easy on the eyes.

Rapid clicks and clacks flowed from the room as she worked. He made a quick scan of the tiny office. Not a picture, or plant, or personal item in sight. No cartoons thumbtacked to a corkboard. No clues to her interests or personality unless the lack of feminine nesting paraphernalia meant she was prepared for a quick departure in the case her true reason for being there was exposed.

He cleared his throat.

She started and glanced up.

Gorgeous blue eyes. “Hi, are you Josie Ashland?”

She tapped a single key on her keyboard then gave him a stiff little smile. “Yes. Can I do something for you?”

“I hope so.” He strolled into the office and extended his hand. “I’m Kent. I work over in the financial department.”

The windowless room was filled with harsh artificial light and the scent of synthetic cinnamon air freshener. He thought of the phrase a rose cloistered in a broom closet as she took his hand.

He shook her hand gently, prolonging the contact for a few seconds more than necessary. Her skin was soft and warm, and he had a ridiculous fantasy of her fingertips roaming over his bare back.

She drew her hand away. “Hi, Kent. What do you need?” The greeting held a note of apprehension.

He pulled his mind back to the reason for his visit. “I understand you’re a computer wiz, and I was hoping to steal you away from Gladys after you’re finished with the website. We need someone in financials on a permanent basis, and I wanted to put a good word in for us early so you’d keep us in mind.”

“Well, I’m flattered, but I really haven’t given any thought to where I’ll work next. This could be a several-month project.”

Not if you’re working for the competition. Your ass will be out that door so quick, you’ll be dizzy.

“I understand the timeframe is fluid,” he said with a shrug. “We just ask that you keep us in mind. When this assignment starts winding down, come over and see what we’re offering.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. Thanks.” Her tone indicated a desire to put a period at the end of their conversation.

“Have you been working around town long?”

“No. My last job was in Norfolk, Virginia.”

“Oh. How are you finding your way around?”

“Good.”

He slid the keys to the new Mustang out of his pocket and moved closer to her desk. “I’ve lived here all my life and know the area pretty well. If you need help finding anything or getting settled, I’d be glad to help.”

“Thanks.”

Her one-word answers gave up little information, and her reticence added to his suspicion. He didn’t want her to babble. In fact, babbling women drove him crazy. But why wasn’t she making any attempt to engage in polite conversation?

He stood where the monitor would block her view of his hand and casually placed his keys on the desk. “The furniture in here is arranged kind of weird. I can shift things around for you if you’d rather have the desk face a wall.”

“No thanks, I like it this way.”

She moistened her lips in a nervous little gesture. He noticed the seductive motion of her tongue, and his blood pressure responded with an odd sudden spike.

He nodded and pretended nonchalance. “Okay then. I’m heading out. Nice to meet you. I’ll be in touch.”

She smiled again, but he had the impression her good will was forced. “Thanks for stopping by.”

He gave her a small salute and left. Phase one complete.

…

Kent paced the lobby and checked his watch for the umpteenth time. Half an hour had passed since he’d positioned the keys and set up his intercept scenario, and Josie still hadn’t come down the elevator. What exactly was she doing up there after most everyone else had gone home? Was this the time of day she’d chosen to riffle through papers left out on executive’s desks?

Deciding to investigate, or maybe catch her in the act, he reached for the elevator call button. Before his fingertip made contact, the button dinged and the down arrow lit up. He tapped his foot and watched the ornate bronze indicator arrow over the elevator doors sweep in an arc to the left. It passed over the two and then continued toward the one.

Another ding. The doors opened. Josie stood inside, a contemplative expression on her face. He made a quick downward scan and got his first view of her shapely hips, smooth-skinned legs, and peek-a-boo, open-toed shoes. A smile tugged at his lips. This spy was sexy as hell.

He shook himself mentally and reined in his hormones. A sexy body was probably the bait. The horny male employees were supposed to spill their guts after a couple flutters of her eyelids.

As she walked off the elevator, he stepped into her path and captured her gaze. “Josie, what a pleasant surprise. You’re just the person I was looking for. I’m glad I caught you.”

She frowned and wariness clouded her eyes. “Why were you looking for me?”

He chuckled self-deprecatingly. “This doesn’t seem to be my day. I think I left my car keys on your desk. I was on my way back up to your office to check.”

The elevator doors closed behind her. “I didn’t notice them anywhere.”

“Would you mind going up with me and taking a look?” He hit the call button quickly before she could answer. The doors opened again.

She glanced around the lobby as if searching for a way to refuse. He watched her think for a second then draw in a deep breath. “I guess so.”

He motioned for her to board the elevator first, and she stepped by him. “I’m sorry to delay you. Do you have a husband or boyfriend you’re rushing home to?”

“No. I’m not in any hurry. That’s okay.” Her posture said just the opposite.

The doors opened at the fourth floor. They stepped out, and he followed her the six paces to her office. She pulled a key out of her purse and unlocked the door. No one else at Emmeline’s, except maybe Victor, locked his or her office, and he wondered why she felt it necessary. “Most people leave their offices open.”

“Crime is rampant these days. It never hurts to be cautious.”

Security was a reasonable explanation, and if she was on the up-and-up, her actions could be considered conscientious and admirable. But he intended to be cautious too. He filed away the info and let the subject drop.

She swung the door open, flicked on the lights, and walked inside.

He spotted his keys sitting where he’d left them. “I was right. There they are,” he said, pointing.

She picked the keys up, turned, and handed them over. “Here you go.”

Ignoring her why-would-this-fool-set-them-on-my-desk expression, he took the keys and flashed her another smile. “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”

She started toward the door, and he followed. Enjoying the light scent of her perfume, he stood next to her in the hallway and waited while she re-locked the door. The elevator was still at their level, and they stepped aboard.

“So where are you off to now?” he asked.

She stared in the direction of the buttons flashing red as the floors counted down. “Home.”

“If you don’t have plans, then maybe you’d join me for dinner. I have reservations for two downtown, but my mother called and told me she’s tied up and can’t make it.”

He watched her take a deep breath. Her breast rose and stretched the material of her jersey top.

“Thank you, but no thanks.”

“I owe you something for saving my skin. Without my keys, I’d be stranded in the city hunting for a locksmith. Plus I’d like to get to know you.”

Her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. “I really should go home.”

He put sincerity in his eyes. “I’d enjoy your company. No strings attached.”

“Thank you, Kent. But no.” She stepped off the elevator in the lobby and spoke to him over her shoulder as she streaked for the exit like a guided missile. “Have a good evening.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, watched her walk away, and his jaw dropped. She’d turned him down. She’d actually turned him down. He’d been brushed off, and his great plan to get to know her and uncover her secrets had crashed and burned.

The unfamiliar feeling of rejection caused a strange rolling in his gut as he quickly analyzed her actions. If she actually was a corporate spy, she might turn him down because she was afraid of dropping her guard and blowing her cover. Or because she didn’t see a payoff for spending time in his company. He grinned. Of course. He needed to dangle some bait and make her think he’d be a good source of insider information.

Kent squared his shoulders and focused on the sway of her sultry hips until she disappeared out the front door.

Well, Josie darling, this is only round one, and I’m not giving up. I’ll get you to talk to me for sure the next time.