Graham scanned his notes for the eight cases on which he was currently working. He set aside the first three, even though he still had a lot to do on them. For the next two, he typed up his summary of what he’d found, with all the necessary proof from the Internet and any footage or evidence Guy had found in his preliminary investigations. He sent those off to the contact. Two of them, he and Guy had worked on almost around the clock, trying to get some of their priority cases done so they had time to spend on the new work coming in and figure out who was screwing with them. Guy did the surveillance and Graham hacked their systems or tracked them online.
One case was rather odd—a woman was trying to prove her son was trying to kill her so he could steal her dog, to which she’d left her entire eighty-million-dollar fortune. They had it all set up and should be running the sting soon. The other one was a husband who was stealing from his wife and his wife was stealing from her job. It was strange but not out of the ordinary among the situations they investigated. But there was something they were missing. Graham was sure of it, and he and Guy needed time to discuss them.
The last one was Caspian Winery. It had only been a small incident. One bottle of bad wine but Dorothea had been very upset and was adamant that they look into it. In almost one hundred years, a vinegar-tasting wine had never been shipped. Either someone at the winery was going to be fired for incompetence or it had been done deliberately. Either way Dorothea wanted some answers... now. So he’d spent almost forty-eight hours straight, minus a few catnaps, to get further ahead on all of the assignments and perform some research on Caspian Winery staff, the Liquor Control Board of Ontario—which was no easy feat—the shippers and the resort staff. It had taken a lot of time. And he had but a few answers for her. The bottle just seemed to appear. From all they’d been able to find out thus far, no other spoiled bottles of wine had shown up anywhere. Caspian had tested 200 bottles to ensure they were quality wine. No other bad tasting wine had been found. And he and Guy had decided to do their own test. They’d gone go to over twenty liquor stores and bought a bottle from each to test it. The five they had tested had been really fine ice wine. A little too fine and a little too hard on the head. He pressed his hand gingerly to his forehead, to ease the gentle throbbing. It has seemed like a good idea at the time.
He scrubbed his hand down his face, groaning at the bristles he encountered. A jaw-splitting yawn complete with tears, threatened to send him off to sleep immediately. A quick glance at his cell phone told him he had been at this for too long. Add the wine in there and he wasn’t sure how he’d made it past five hours. Searching through all of Caspian Winery’s employees and trying to find the little bugger who might have hacked their system was keeping him busy. It didn’t really shock him that he’d been searching for so long; he’d done it plenty of times before. What did surprise him though, were the twenty text messages and ten calls he’d missed. Clicking to check them out, he realized he’d inadvertently muted his phone. When he saw that several were from Guy, he skimmed through them. Nothing too serious, only that he hadn’t found any answers either. And he wanted a cure for a wine hangover.
Graham laughed, only to groan when the noise was too much for his headache.
Frowning, he moved a few things on his desk, eventually uncovering the office phone only to discover the receiver was off the hook. Then it dawned on him that had been the buzzing noise he’d heard at some point but had chosen to ignore, mainly because he thought it was from the alcohol he’d been indulging in. He knew if there had been anything really serious, Guy would have shown up at the office but since he was out sleuthing around, he probably didn’t want to stop either.
Graham was about to listen to the messages when someone knocked on the outer office door. The sudden noise caused his head to snap up like he was going through whiplash. He quickly pulled up his schedule as he tried to clear the cobwebs from his head; the visitor was presumably the first of two interviews for their new tech assistant position.
The worst part was that Guy had left the downstairs door unlocked, probably because he knew Graham would forget the interviews.
Crap!
“Just a minute.” He had no idea if the person could hear him.
Swearing profusely, he stretched his eyes wide and then tried to blink away the tiredness. When that didn’t work, he stepped into the bathroom tucked in the corner, just down the hall from the reception area of their offices. He splashed cold water on his face, soaked his head, combed his hair straight back, pulled on some clean clothes he kept at the office and downed half a cup of coffee on his way to the door. He pasted on a genial smile and pulled open the locked door, only to discover there wasn’t anyone there. He stepped into the hallway in time to see a blonde-haired woman’s head disappearing from view. He ran to the top of the stairs.
“Excuse me? Are you Tarin?” He was thankful he’d put her name in his scheduler because he couldn’t remember a thing from her resume. He hoped he’d filed it somewhere where he could quickly find it.
The woman turned slowly to study him. Her hazel eyes were arresting and he couldn’t help but notice she was gorgeous—not that she was playing that card. She was dressed very conservatively in a dark blue pantsuit, she wore no makeup and her hair was slicked back as though it was wet.
Graham felt like the kid in grammar school on the receiving end of a teacher’s glare. Without a word, she turned and continued down a few more steps before hesitating and turning back. She now had a look of resolve but also one of determination.
“I am. And you are?”
“Graham, owner of Knights Associates.” He cringed when her eyebrows shot upward and her eyes drifted over him before settling on his face. “Look, it’s been a long day—” A quick glance at his watch let him know how stupid that comment was. It was only 9:00 a.m. Without another word, he returned to his office. He headed straight for the coffee and downed another cup. His stomach clenched and twisted, protesting inadequate feedings over the last few days. He reached to fill it again, when he realized the coffee pot was empty. Searching the cupboard, he discovered he was totally out of caffeine. Leaning over the end of the counter, he filled his cup with water from the dispenser and took a drink.
“Hmm-hmm.”
He spun around so fast that he sloshed the last bit of his drink over the edges of his mug. The woman looked almost as startled as he felt. The lowered eyebrows and pursed lips like she was staring at a weirdo she couldn’t trust was his undoing. It was similar to the response many gave the homeless guy, Bill, before they walked away from him in disgust. Graham couldn’t help it; he hunched his body, arching his back, leaving his left arm swinging down toward the ground and then twisted his face.
Her appalled look at his Hunchback of Notre Dame impression made him laugh as he straightened up.
“This was a mistake.” She slowly stepped backward, not taking her eyes off him.
He moved toward her and couldn’t mistake the fear in her eyes or the rigidity of her body. He stopped, flipping up his hands. “I’m really not as bad as I look. I’ve had a long night. Well, actually make that a few days. Sorry for the joke. I have a little off-kilter sense of humor.”
He refilled his cup and took a drink. “This job isn’t easy. You’ll have regular hours if you’re lucky but I don’t keep regular hours. When I have a project, I work pretty much until it’s done. Still want to be interviewed?”
Her gaze was steady on him, watching him, deciphering him. It bothered him that she appeared so skeptical as if wondering if she could trust him. She reached for something near her neck and after grasping a few times at what he wasn’t sure, she finally dropped her hand. It reminded him of his sister and her habit of tugging on her long hair. He wondered if she’d recently cut hers.
“Look, I’m busy. I’m sorry I’m not at my best but this is who I am. I won’t apologize for that. But by George, I think I’ve found a winner,” he said in his best English accent. He took another drink of water.
“Can I have one of those?”
Her voice, coming from not far behind him, jolted him, letting him know how tired he was. “Uh, yeah sure.”
He grabbed a mug and poured her some water. He had her sit behind the desk in the outer office, the reception area as Bailey called it. To him it his workout space, which he now realized would have to change. He pulled up a folding chair and sat across the desk from her.
“All right, can you tell me a bit about yourself?”
“I’ve worked with computers most of my life. I don’t have a degree or any formal training. All that I’ve learned is self-taught or from having apprenticed with some of the best programmers there are. I have a few as my references. I’m good at research, finding and getting rid of trojans, malware, ransomware, viruses. You name it, and I’ve dealt with it.”
“So what interested you to apply here?”
There was the slightest of hesitation before she answered. He sensed from her hesitation coupled with her evasive eyes that he wasn’t going to get a complete answer.
“I’ve been working for myself for about two-and-a-half years, so it’s been a while since I worked for someone else.” There was a slight pause. “I moved out here to help a... friend. I don’t have time to establish my company in a new market, so I really need a job. This seemed perfect. I know computers.” She held his gaze almost defiantly for several heartbeats before she looked down.
Graham asked her several more questions. One thing he hated was listening to people tell him all they knew when what he really needed was for them to show him what they could do.
“If you want to start the laptop in front of you, it’s only in sleep mode. I’ve given you a number of tasks to do. You’ve got twenty minutes. Let me know when you’re done. I’ll be in my office. Just knock.”
She nodded and immediately got to work, barely giving him any notice as he walked into his office, closing the door behind him. It felt as though he’d barely had time to sit when both the timer on his watch and the alarm on his computer sounded and she knocked at his door. If anyone had asked him, he would have sworn he’d been wide awake but the shock of it had him jerking so hard he almost toppled over backward in his chair. Only by flailing out his arms and snagging the windowsill behind him, did he prevent it. Looking around wide-eyed, it took a moment for it to sink in what was happening. The office looked the same as usual—a cot in the corner, papers all over Guy’s desk, none on his, a dart board on the far wall, his ten-speed bike tucked in the corner, a treadmill, a Bowflex machine and a few other odds and ends. When none of that caught his attention, his gaze flew to the door and the woman that was patiently knocking again. He was thankful she couldn’t see him.
He scrubbed his hands down his face, pried open his eyes and wearily got to his feet. He strolled to the door and opened it.
“I’m finished. Can I show you what I’ve done?”
“You know what, leave it. Let me go through it. If I need to, I’ll call you. I have all your contact information?”
She glanced away before taking a deep breath and looking him in the eye. Hers were the most arresting he’d ever seen, brown with flecks of amber scattered throughout. Mesmerizing.
“I have a new phone number and email address.” She quickly scribbled down her new information and handed it to him.
“Thank you, Tarin. Once I’m done with the interviews, I’ll let you know our decision. We’re looking to hire someone who can start right away.”
She nodded at his questioning look. “I’m available tomorrow, if you need me.”
“Great. Good to know because frankly, we needed someone yesterday. I’ll be in touch either way. Thanks for coming in.” He shook her offered hand and walked out with her. He locked up the office as he followed her down the long, single flight of stairs. He could tell by the slump of her shoulders that she was disappointed. There was no question she sounded good, but he’d have to spend some time going through her responses on the computer to really see.
The real issue he was having was there was something about her but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It wasn’t that she was lying but she was very careful with her answers, like she wanted to make sure she didn’t say too much. It bugged the heck out of him. As they stepped outside, the cool wind whipped around him and the freshness of it slapped him like a cold splash to the face. He closed his eyes and let it do its magic. Exhaustion was a gritty burn, numbing his brain and depleting his energy.
“Thank you.”
His eyes snapped open to stare at the beautiful, blonde-haired woman he’d completely forgotten about. That had never happened to him before. Then it dawned on him that he still had another interview to do before he could crash, which he intended to do for about fourteen hours. He nodded and then looked around. There were several people traversing the street, headed to wherever their busy schedules were taking them but none looked as though they were searching for a certain place. Sure that his next interview hadn’t arrived, he turned back to the hazel eyes that were studying him, with a bit of a perplexed frown. Another day, he’d have made a joke.
“Look I know this is rather... would you mind staying here for about five minutes and watching for a woman by the name of Heather? She’s my next interview but I really need to do a quick errand. I have to run down the street. “
“Sure, I have nothing better to do.”
The strange look in her eye that was gone even before he was sure he’d seen it, made him wonder if he wasn’t hallucinating. He was tired enough and too strung out to try to figure it out. Before she changed her mind, he strode down the street to get himself one of the best cafe mocha’s around. Straight coffee wasn’t going to keep him awake. And the exercise and cold would hopefully give him a second wind.