When Lila arrived at her office, she deposited the coffee, the muffin she’d purchased in the lobby café, and her bag on her desk. The room had one window overlooking the parking garage below, which sat next to a pond dotted with a few weeping willow trees. Focusing on the lone car parked at a slant on the top level of the garage, she inhaled. Could someone be watching her? After observing the car for a few minutes, she pulled her gaze away.
Jack’s tortured face flashed before her eyes. He deserved better than a horrendous death. Perhaps his last words were the ramblings of a man on the precipice of death, but something urged her to take his request serious. If she chose to accept his last assignment, she’d also have to assume his warnings were legitimate. Sipping the hot coffee, she weighed her options with the full understanding she could be wading into dangerous waters.
Scooping up her uneaten muffin, Lila dashed out of her office. She raced along a back corridor, slowing as she reached the end of the hall. Blue lights from computer monitors filtered out of an opened door. Lila knocked, and then stepped inside.
“Hey Lila. What’s up?” Marshall Radley said, twirling around in his chair to face her, sporting hip square glasses and a Dallas Cowboys hat he always wore flipped backward. He’d been working as the firm’s IT guy for three years. Lila had gotten to know him when she first started and needed help setting up her computer. He’d told Lila that he played guitar in a band after hours. Today, the driving music of Prince played in the background.
“I need a huge favor.” She stepped closer, thankful Marshall was the one on duty and not the other, less friendly, IT guy. The huge room housed the firm’s servers, IT equipment, and security cameras. During the day, three techs worked the room, managed the help line, and performed any other tasks necessary to keep the firm secured and the employees productive. “I’m sure you’ve heard about Jack’s death.”
“Yea. Horrible. I liked the guy. He wasn’t as stuffy as some around here.” Marshall tossed an empty microwave dinner tray in the trash.
She eyed the three rows of monitors featuring footage from the multitude of security cameras mounted throughout the office. “Have you noticed anyone up on twenty-four?”
Marshall reached over to the control panel and the music quieted. He consulted one of the computers before turning back to her. “One of the assistants was up there moving some boxes, but she left about half hour ago.”
Lila blew out a breath. After hours, everyone was required to use their badge to operate the elevators and get into the office. Lila assumed Marshall checked the database for the twenty-fourth floor. “I have a meeting later this morning with Talcott and Hilary. I need a document out of Jack’s office to prepare my report.” She glanced around the room, although she understood only one IT person worked the overnight shift. “Do you think you can switch the security cameras off on twenty-four, especially around Jack’s office, for say, five minutes? I don’t want them to see me creeping into his office. I misplaced a document. I don’t want to involve Jack’s assistant by asking her for it. Besides, I need it right away and she’s not in. Now that Jack’s gone, I can’t afford a screwup.”
Marshall tapped his fingers together and nodded. “Got it.” He glanced at the clock. “You have seven minutes.” He grinned. “Lila the badass.”
She smiled. “Undercover badass.” Devious acts weren’t usually her modus operandi, but if she had any hope of retrieving the files, she’d have get comfortable in spy mode. “Thanks, Marshall. You’re a lifesaver, but please take this to the grave.” She handed him the muffin. “Breakfast is on me.”
She loped from the twenty-first to the twenty-fourth floor using the firm’s interior staircase. Marshall said the floor was vacant, but she opened the door a fraction and listened for sounds of life. No bits of conversation, music or scuffling of feet met her ears. The absence of sound, however, didn’t mean the floor was empty. Lila pushed open the door and stepped through. Glancing from her gray pumps to the shiny wooden floor, she slipped off her shoes.
Lila headed right and made a turn into the copy room in the center of the floor. Dashing through the workroom, with four large printers, stacks of copy paper, and shelves of office supplies, Lila exited on the opposite side of the room. Two offices down without detection and she’d be golden, for the moment. Jack’s office, located at the midpoint along the hall, had double the square footage of hers.
A gold-plated wall plaque reading Jack R. Struthers greeted her. A lump grew in her throat. Inhaling, she twisted the knob, pushed open the door, and gasped. Jack’s essence had already been sucked out of his office. Dark cherry furniture remained, but his desktop had been cleared. Boxes were stacked on top of each other. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, which had been bursting with law textbooks and journals, now were empty. The photos of family ski trips through the years that Jack loved discussing were missing from his credenza. All evidence of someone who’d built a career, spanning almost twenty years, had been reduced to blank walls and empty drawers.
Why would they clean out his office so soon? Was someone else at the firm aware of Jack’s suspicions, and were they out to ensure no else knew what he knew? Perhaps other partners had been targeted. Her breathing settled when the notion occurred that the police had cleared the office to hunt for evidence of Jack’s killer. No, the conclusion didn’t make sense. Jack’s office contained mounds of confidential material. Handing over those documents en masse to the police would violate the firm’s commitment to their clients. A search warrant would be necessary, narrowing the scope of materials law enforcement could obtain. None of that could be done so quickly, could it?
She shivered under the blast of cold air, even colder in the vast emptiness of the office.
Lila ran a hand over the smooth wooden desk surface. If the files had been in his office, where were they now? She pulled open his lap drawer. Empty. She shut the drawer and moved on to one of the side drawers. Nothing. Just as she pulled open the last drawer, she froze when the office door thrust open.
“What are you doing here?”
Chapter 8
Cody set his cell phone inside the locker and then aligned his eyes in front of a retinal scanner. The light flashed green and he moved to the door. He settled his hand on the cool screen then watched the door slide open. Guess I’m legal, he mused as he stepped into the hive.
Cody held in a groan as he stepped next to Paul.
“Ready to get outshined,” Paul wore a white Veridian polo shirt. He double clicked his company pen, crossed his arms and stood wide-legged as if surveying his kingdom.
“Sure, you’ll look spiffy clean after I’ve wiped the floor with your ass.” Cody dismissed Paul as he moved farther into the room.
Rick entered. “Glad you two made it in. Everyone in the bullpen!” Rick led them to an open conference area with whiteboards, huge computer screens, and funky electric blue seating. A large acrylic table occupied the center. Rick stood near the whiteboard while he sipped a cup of tea as everyone assembled. Once the group had settled, Rick cleared his throat. “I want to welcome Paul and Cody to our team.” As he explained everyone’s roles it became evident to Cody that the man knew his stuff.
“Glad to be here, boss,” Paul said, rubbing his hands together, a wide grin plastered across his face.
Rick cut a side glance at Paul before turning back to the group. “Before we continue, remember the Veridian benefit this evening. We’re all expected to be there, that includes Cody and Paul. It’s black tie, so look nice.”
Several groans rumbled through the group.
Rick rolled his eyes. “Many people would kill for an invitation. Consider yourselves lucky.” He turned to Paul and Cody. “Stop at the company dry cleaners before you leave today. We’ve arranged to have tuxedos in your sizes delivered.”
Cody’s skin prickled as he considered how they determined his suit size. But they knew his mother had diabetes so figuring out his suit size wouldn’t be too difficult.
�
�We’re a small group, compared to other project teams but I think you’ll find us fun to work with.” Rick crossed his arms. “Bear with me, everyone, as I give an overview of DDI to the two newbies. Veridian is committed to the future and pushing the bounds of technology. Everyone knows AI, artificial intelligence, is next the frontier in intelligence and while millions, perhaps billions of people will find their jobs no longer necessary, we’ll always be relevant as the masterminds of the future. We’re pushing past AI and pressing toward ASI, artificial superintelligence.”
Cody hated the notion of being responsible for the extinction of jobs and heralding in computers to take the place of humans. As a young kid, he envisioned helping people and enhancing lives. He hadn’t considered the ethics of advanced technology. As a college student, he’d been forced to grapple with his own battle lines. For the moment, he’d have to put those ethical arguments aside.
“DDI is the most sensitive project we have going at Veridian,” Rick continued. “Imagine knowing people better than they know themselves. Our basic questions are: What if we can anticipate your every need? What happens when all of your needs are taken care of? You have more time to think, to evolve, to be. We have several secondary studies running within the larger project. One of those studies involves monitoring a group of test subjects. We’re mapping their every movement, keystroke, website visit, and document they create or edit, even at their jobs. We know where they are at any given moment. We know if they have a doctor’s appointment, and we subsequently know if they’re healthy or have some underlying condition. With our new search engine technology, we will have deep, personal intel about the user. We are involved in testing the limits of a new social media platform which also includes using drones not only as delivery vehicles but as an eye in sky. Imagine if we can anticipate whether someone is thinking about committing a crime? Your tasks are to collect and evaluate pieces of data, and to gather the intel by any means possible.”
Cody shifted in his seat as farfetched movies and books of the past were now not so improbable. “You said one of those studies involves test subject, does that mean other studies use simulations?”
After sipping his tea, Rick tapped his forefinger on the table. “Most of the people are real but it will be up to you to determine the authenticity of the data.”
“I’m ready to get started,” Paul said.
Leaning on the table, one of the engineers addressed Cody, “Moby Patel, here.” The man gave him a quick wave.
Moby, who Cody estimated to be around his age, had unkempt black hair, a strand falling into his left eye, and a faded wrinkled dress shirt he paired with jeans.
“This is cutting edge stuff. People will crave what we create.” Moby tapped his green Veridian pen on the table.
Next to Moby sat a middle-aged man with thick, round glasses which made him appear as if his DNA had been crossed with a common housefly. This man nodded with such vigor even his sparse splattering of white hair shook. “Name’s Stanley Walls.” He extended his hand to Cody, then Paul, before settling back into his seat.
A petite woman with a pencil jutting from her black hair, smirked. “Newbies. Don’t get caught up in the ethics. You have to look at this opportunity like the scientists we are, on the hunt for a blockbuster breakthrough. We’re providing knowledge for the future. You’ll get used to the way we do things.”
Rick nodded. “That’s right, Sher.” He reached over and pressed a button on a nearby computer. The screen populated with photos. “These are Veridian drones. We’re using the technology to map various aspects of the lives of our test subjects. As you can see, these drones are small, giving us the ability to monitor the subjects in an unobtrusive manner.”
For the next two hours Cody learned about the unique and secret nature of the project and his role on the team. The more he learned, the more concerned he became. He suspected he’d just landed in the snake pit of Veridian.
Lila jumped and tore her hand away from the drawer. With eyes wide, she stared at Jack’s assistant. “Naomi, I didn’t know anyone was here.” Her heart thundered as if a hundred racehorses trekked across her chest. “I…I just wanted to step into Jack’s office. We are, I mean we were working on several cases together.”
Naomi frowned, her crow’s feet accented her dark eyes. “You shouldn’t be in here.” She leaned out into the hall before straightening. “Mr. Talcott asked me to pack up Jack’s office yesterday afternoon. I worked until after eight o’clock to get everything organized.” Her gaze swept the room as if assessing the office.
Lila nodded as her heart steadied. “I needed important files for cases Jack and I were working on.”
“Of course.” Naomi’s eyes softened. “I’m so sorry. Jack was a good man and a brilliant attorney. But I don’t have to tell you.”
“Yes, he was. I’d like to make him proud and continue his work. If the partners see it that way.”
“I think Jack would like that.” Naomi folded her arms across her white blouse. “All files have been placed in banker’s boxes in the work room, and I’ve already sent his personal belongings home. If you need something, Mr. Talcott has instructed me to get authorization from him.”
“Of course. I have a meeting with Mr. Talcott later this morning so I’m sure we’ll work through all of the client logistics.” Lila forced herself to move slowly toward the door to avoid the appearance of being caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She cast an exaggerated gaze toward Jack’s desk and sniffled. “I’ll really miss him.”
Naomi’s hands fluttered around her neck. “Of course. I apologize if I seemed insensitive. You poor thing. Jack’s death has to be very upsetting. He thought of you as a rising star. I’m so sorry.”
Lila hated using emotion to steer this interaction. Although Jack’s death had impacted her, and she felt genuinely sad, she exploited those feelings to elicit sympathy. Wiping her eyes, Lila inhaled. “I’m so embarrassed.”
Naomi moved next to her and patted her shoulder. “This will be between us.”
“Thank you.” Lila gave her a weak smile and ambled to the door.
Naomi’s low black heels muffled against the thick carpet as she followed.
A click of the light switch shrouded the room.
“Looks like you’ve got the office all packed up.” Lila glanced around the room, this time with an honest sense of loss for her mentor and friend. For the hundredth time she wondered who’d want to kill him?
The fiftyish-looking woman nodded and glanced around the office as if to ensure she hadn’t left so much as a piece of paper. “I can’t understand the rush, but I’ve learned not to question when Mr. Talcott requests something.”
Lila pushed down the rising panic. What if the documents ended up in the wrong hands? Even if Jack had been talking out of his head, she owed it to him to at least try to find the documents, although she had no idea what they entailed. And if she found them, then what?
With a last sweep of the office, Lila stepped into the hall. “Probably best not to anger Mr. Talcott.” The thought Jack had done just that entered her mind. If his death had been an inside job, could she be next?
Naomi sighed. “Mr. Talcott has been on edge lately. I witnessed him on a rampage. He was screaming up a storm at his assistant last week.” Naomi shook her head. “If looks could kill, her family would be shopping for a casket.”
Two hours later, Lila once again opened the door to the twenty-fifth floor. Emerging from the stairwell, she stepped into the hall and glanced over the railing at the library four floors below. Several attorneys and staff personnel were either browsing the stacks or sitting at various sized tables in the center. The firm had spent millions renovating each floor. The library now had lots of natural light and greenery. Every time Lila caught a glimpse of the vines flowing over one wall of the library, her body jolted. Memories flooded back of another vine-clad wall simulating the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. She shook off the memory of The Order’s, now-abandoned, Virgi
nia headquarters, Babylon Hall. Today wasn’t the day to parade down that terrifying trail of memories.
Barb, master gatekeeper for all partners on this floor, eyed her from behind the circular reception desk. Even as an associate, Lila couldn’t simply walk into senior partner’s office, aside from Jack’s, which is what made his different. Lila approached the desk, rearranging her ID badge photo side outward. “Hello, Barb. Mr. Talcott is expecting me for an eight a.m. meeting.”
Barb glanced up and removed her half-moon glasses. The older woman always appeared impeccable from her fresh from the salon dark hair to her array of sophisticated suits. The gatekeeper flashed a smile. “They are in conference room C. Please head on back.”
“Thank you.” Nerves surfaced, and she pulled her notebook to her chest, hoping the status report she’d emailed would help save her job. Would the partners be satisfied with her summation of cases? She angled around the corner, her gray pumps tapping along the dark wood floor. Her heart thumped at the closed door and thick walls surrounding the room. Was she about to get fired? As she inhaled, she admonished herself. Creating more drama than necessary would serve her no good. I’m a damn good attorney. She usually saved the positive affirmations for mornings as she prepared to come to work but today required an additional reminder. After another deep breath, she knocked, and a few seconds later, the voice of Talcott granting her entrance wafted through the door.
“Ms. Caldwell. I appreciate your punctuality.” He extended his hand in a combination handshake and means to draw her into the room.
“Thank you.” Her gaze landed on the other two partners seated at the glass table, Hilary Foster and Steve Dorman. “Good morning.”
“Please have seat, Ms. Caldwell,” Talcott said. “May we call you Lila?”
“Please do.” She took the seat Talcott waved her toward, which was immediately across from the Dorman and Foster. Talcott sat in the head chair.
Order of Truth Page 5
