Likely Suspects

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Likely Suspects Page 4

by G. K. Parks


  “Figured you’d keep an eye on me?”

  “Maybe I thought you’d like to keep an eye on me.” He grinned. “Just part of the job description, right?” Before I could respond, he headed out the door. “I have a meeting, but we’ll catch up later. I’d like a full report before end of business today.”

  “And the fun begins.” I closed the door and checked to see if it had a lock. It didn’t, but I wanted one installed as soon as possible. I didn’t need any random people spying on my work.

  In the meantime, I rearranged the room, placing the sofa against the side wall and the table next to it. I scooted the desk farther toward the back wall and angled it so it was facing the door but not head-on. I pulled the rolling office chair behind the desk and looked at the computer sitting on top of it. I turned it on, and the MT logo popped up, asking for a username and password. I would need that information before I could start looking around on the MT network.

  I made a mental checklist of things I needed: a door lock, computer passwords, and a non-networked laptop, so I could record my personal observations without worry. I rummaged through the desk, checking the three drawers. All of which were empty. There was a small closet on the back wall. Inside was a mop and bucket, an old vacuum cleaner, and an empty box. Clean out janitor’s closet, I added to my list. I sat down in the chair, testing out the seat. A coffeepot and a few mugs would be nice, in addition to general office supplies. When I could no longer come up with anything else I needed, I went in search of Griffin to see what I could mark off my list.

  Her office was down the hall in the opposite direction, next to Martin’s. I suspected this was so he could call her in at a moment’s notice to pour him a drink or rub his feet. I knocked on the door, but instead of asking who it was or telling me to come in, she opened the door.

  “May I help you?” she asked, standing in the doorway. She must have been afraid I was going to steal her office supplies.

  “Yes.” I felt like a child asking for a new toy. “I was wondering if I could get some basic office supplies, pens, paper, paperclips,” I paused, “a stapler in case I want to get really crazy and end it all.” She didn’t seem amused by my joking. She nodded her head, so I continued. “I’m also going to need a username and password to access the computer and a lock put on my door.”

  “Key or keypad?” She was all business and very serious about her job.

  I contemplated the implications of each. “Um…key,” I decided since it would be easier to detect if someone broke into my office the old-fashioned way, by tool marks on the lock, instead of trying to figure out if my office had been hacked.

  “I’ll call the locksmith. The lock will be installed this afternoon. If you come with me, we can get the office supplies now. I will have to schedule an appointment with IT to set up computer access for you.”

  I followed her to a storage room. Inside were stacks of legal pads, pens, markers, and the like. She handed me an empty copy paper box and asked if I needed any more assistance.

  “I’m good.” I had the feeling she couldn’t wait to get away from me, or perhaps she just needed to hurry back to guard her paperclips.

  “Very well.” She went back to her office and shut the door.

  After loading up on the essentials, I filled my drawers with supplies, left a legal pad and a couple of pens on top of my desk, and began making notes. On the first sheet of paper, I expanded my mental checklist. On the second sheet, I began writing observations about security implementations and improvements to recommend to Martin. The only thing I had come up with so far was the security officers were too friendly.

  I needed to get a hold of an employee manifest to begin cross-referencing names to previous criminal records and see if anyone had reason to hold a grudge. An ex-employee list would be even more helpful. I also needed a floor plan of the building, so I could see how things were laid out and where offices and facilities were located. Just as I was getting ready to ask Griffin if she had a map of the building, there was a knock on my door.

  “Come in,” I called.

  Martin poked his head inside. “How’s it coming along?” I told him I needed computer access, employee manifests, and a layout of the building, so he logged onto my computer using his own username and password. “There.” He clicked open on a few documents. “That should be everything you need for now. We can work on a more detailed list later. I just had a few minutes in between meetings and thought I’d check on you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, not looking up from the screen.

  He was halfway out the door when he paused. “My office, four o’clock, okay?”

  “I’ll be there.” I liked all-business Martin a lot better than after-hours Martin.

  I spent the next few hours making lists of employees based on seniority and position within the company. I wasn’t sure who should be my main focus; therefore, I listed all one hundred and eighty-two full-time, senior level employees and grouped them from mailroom to controlling officer positions.

  I studied the building schematic to get a feel for the layout. This would make it easier to check on different employees and also to scrutinize any security weaknesses in the building. There were seventeen floors, and the top was only occupied by Martin, Griffin, and myself. The rest of the floor was empty conference rooms and extra office space. I’m sure meetings were scheduled here, but as for daily activities, the top floor was the least trafficked and theoretically the safest. Every other floor was divided into departments, such as technical support, consumer hotline, accounting, marketing, and so on. I was drawing my own representation of the building when there was another knock at the door.

  “Yes?” I asked, not getting up. The door opened, but there was no other sound. I looked up. “May I help you?”

  A timid-looking man stood in the doorway. “I’m here to install the lock,” he said, chomping on his bubblegum.

  “Go ahead. It won’t bother me.”

  The man got to work and in a few minutes was finished. “You’re all set, ma’am.” He handed me a key.

  “Do I have to sign something, escort you back down, or anything?” I was curious if individuals could just wander around the building if they had the proper credentials.

  “No, it’s all taken care of. The security guys brought me up here to Mrs. Griffin who signed the work order and then sent me down the hall.”

  “Okay, thanks.” He started to leave. “Is this the only key?” I called after him.

  “No, the other one is down at security, in case you get locked out.”

  “Great. I lose things all the time.” I tried to sound sincere, but I was unenthused by the fact security likely had keys to every office in the building. It made sense but posed quite a bit of risk for a CEO who was being threatened.

  After the locksmith left, I looked at my watch. It was almost four o’clock. Maybe Martin was back in his office. I logged off the computer and took the key to my new lock. I shut the door, made sure it worked properly, and headed across the hallway. Martin’s windows were set to clear, and no one was inside. I knocked, although it looked empty, and noticed the door had a keycard mechanism.

  “What the hell.” I swiped my security badge through the slot to see if I got the all-access, behind-the-scenes pass. Amazingly enough, the door opened. I stood in the doorway, feeling like an intruder. Get over it; you are just checking out his security, remember that. I closed the door and heard the lock click into place. There must be a button at the desk that unlocked the door for any outside visitor who could easily be seen through the glass. Maybe the security protocols were better than I expected. I walked the length of the room and decided to check out the lavatory. It was small and windowless with a sink, washbasin, and toilet. Nothing too fancy. Just as I was getting ready to leave, Martin walked in.

  “Making yourself at home?” He went to the wet bar and poured a drink. He reached for a second glass, but I shook my head.

  “I’m beginning to think your live
r is probably the only thing in danger in this building.”

  He laughed. “Well, it is five o’clock somewhere. Plus, I’m done for the day. I figured we could discuss what you’ve learned so far and take it from there.”

  “Okay, let me grab my notes and belongings. I’ll be right back.” I was out the door before he could reply.

  Six

  I collected my notes and the rest of my things, figuring I could leave after my meeting with Martin, locked my door, and headed back into his office. The door was propped open, and he was sitting on the sofa. His suit jacket was folded over the back of the couch, and his tie was undone and hanging around his neck. The first three buttons of his shirt were open, and he had one leg propped on the seat. For a brief moment, I thought I walked into a life-sized ad for cologne or vodka, but I quickly pushed the thought out of my head.

  “Shut the door,” he instructed, swirling the ice cubes around his glass. I kicked the doorstop out of the way and placed my belongings on one of the mahogany tables. “Come, sit down.” He indicated the other end of the couch, and I sat primly. “You know you can relax. I won’t bite,” he grinned mischievously, “well, unless you ask nicely.”

  “Mr. Martin,” I began, disregarding his playboy demeanor, “shall we get on with it?”

  He cocked an eyebrow up. “Most definitely.”

  I regretted my wording but continued anyway. I told him what I had noticed about this floor, the security in his office, how I would need to run more extensive background checks on the employees, and that I needed a list of past employees. His green eyes stared intensely as I spoke; it was rather unnerving. When I was finished with my list, he simply nodded.

  “Okay, everything seems doable.” He smirked at his own word usage. He glanced out the glass window into the hallway and spotted Griffin leaving her office. He sat up straighter and leaned toward me. “Laugh,” he instructed, reaching out and rubbing his thumb across my cheek before tucking my hair gently behind my ear.

  I laughed uncomfortably. Now what game was he playing? I noticed out of the corner of my eye Griffin staring at us as she hurried past to the elevator. As soon as she was out of visual range, he leaned back.

  “What the hell?” I blurted out, scooting even farther away from him.

  “Perpetuating some misinformation. If people think there is something scandalous going on, they won’t be too concerned with why you are really here.”

  “It could backfire, you know.”

  He waved my warning away. “Trust me. I know how these things work. Gossip mills like juicy stories about private consultants, not new security hires.”

  “Basically, last night when I told you your idea for an undercover security analyst was a bad idea, you just overlooked that?” Obviously, he was still playing games despite my insistence to be upfront and serious.

  “I took it under consideration and then made a unilateral decision. It happens fairly often. You’ll get used to it.”

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Any minute the headache would set in. “Fine, we will do it your way.” I was tired of arguing. “So, the twenty-something people last night, how much misinformation did you give them?”

  “Let’s put it this way. You’re the only woman who applied for the job, and you got hired. You aren’t sitting downstairs in the security office, so maybe it wasn’t because of your shooting ability.” He cocked an eyebrow up, and I fought the urge to call him a pretentious, chauvinistic pig.

  “And of course, you’re crazy enough for them to think last night was just you playing an elaborate cops and robbers game for shits and giggles.” I was trying very hard not to take things personally or be pissed.

  His green eyes brightened. “Exactly.”

  I wanted to get back to business, so I let it go. His plan did have some merit. Worst case, people would think he hired a security consultant who was also sleeping with the boss, which I wouldn’t have minded so much if I weren’t the consultant.

  We spent the next hour printing out lists of employees, along with blueprints of the building which he kindly marked and labeled based on department and office. I needed to call Mark and see if he could run backgrounds on everyone or give me access to the crime databases so I could do my own checks. I also asked Martin to think of any personal problems or issues with specific employees or departments which might warrant further investigation.

  By six o’clock, I was ready to go home. I had more lists and tasks than I cared to think about, and most of these could be done on my own time, away from curious eyes. We rode the elevator down to the lobby together.

  “What time does everyone go home?” I asked as the doors dinged open.

  “Depends. If we are dealing with foreign business, it might be really late due to time zone differences, but on a normal day, the place is pretty much dead by 4:30. We have a night crew who cleans and provides additional building security. Sometimes we have a stray worker, maybe from marketing or something, working on a presentation or trying to meet a deadline.”

  “Names would be good.”

  “I’ll have those for you tomorrow,” he assured.

  “Good evening, sir,” a different security guard said as we walked out together.

  “Night, Todd,” Martin replied, not bothering to glance up. I followed Martin to the parking garage. His car and driver, Marcal, were waiting for him.

  “Good night, Miss Parker.” He opened the back door. “See you tomorrow.”

  I headed to my own parked car. I had a lot of work to do. I pulled out my cell phone and called Mark. “Are you still at the office?” I asked when he answered. I didn’t feel like exchanging pleasantries. I was tired and still steamed about last night.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I’m coming over. See you in a few.” I clicked end call and drove to the OIO, figuring we might as well start burning the midnight oil while things were fresh on my mind.

  * * *

  Mark and I sat in his office. He had ordered takeout, and we were surrounded by Chinese food cartons and piles of paperwork.

  “You mean to tell me you’ve already run backgrounds on Martin Tech employees?” I asked around a mouthful of orange chicken.

  “Yeah, first thing I did when Marty came to me with the death threats.” He put his chopsticks into his carton and rummaged through his notepad, looking for something. “Here.” He produced a sheet of paper. “I narrowed the list down to some likely suspects.” There were twenty or so names on it.

  “Current or past employees?” I skimmed the list, but none of the names stood out. Although after reading almost two hundred employee names earlier in the day, I wasn’t sure I would recognize my own name.

  “Current. Marty never gave me the list of past employees. I don’t think he’s much for recordkeeping.” Typically, disgruntled past employees posed a threat because current employees didn’t want to risk losing their jobs.

  “All right, I guess we’ll do this the old-fashioned way.” I adopted a valley girl accent. “Hi, I’m like totally new here, so I’m going to follow you around and be your friend, and you can tell me like all your deep dark secrets. Have you ever fantasized about the boss or like wanting to kill the boss?”

  Mark laughed. “You should work on being a bit more subtle.”

  “But what fun would that be?” I took a sip of my soda. “How did you determine who made the cut?” I indicated the names on his suspect list.

  “Previous criminal records, history of violence, y’know, the usual.”

  “I thought it was the company line not to profile,” I teased, and he rolled his eyes.

  “You know, as well as I do, the greatest predictor of committing a future crime is a history of past crimes.”

  “Wouldn’t the company background checks have eliminated ex-cons?” How stringent were Martin Tech’s hiring policies and applicant reviews?

  “They do a decent job, but some have jackets without convictions. And others might have just slipped through.”
>
  “Lovely,” I replied sarcastically.

  “Honestly, most of this stuff was fairly petty, if I remember right. Minor drug offenses, some domestic disturbances, nothing screamed out conspiracy or murder to me.” He flipped through a stack of papers containing a list of offenses by our pool of potential persons of interest.

  “Does anyone seem smart enough to pull something like this off?” I asked. “Granted, everything has been unsuccessful so far, so maybe whoever’s behind this is stupid or just unlucky.”

  “I don’t know their GPAs or if they are members of MENSA.”

  “At least it’s a start. If anything, it will eliminate some potential suspects.” I looked back at the paper. “For my own clarification, are we positive the threats are on the level? Martin is eccentric. Maybe has a few screws loose. Perhaps he missed his meds one day and hallucinated the whole damn thing.”

  Mark shook his head. “I wish that were the case. It would be a much better alternative. Unfortunately, he’s on the level. He might be slightly unorthodox in his methodology, but he’s a stand-up guy. Don’t let the eccentricity or the playboy act fool you.”

  “Fine.” I tossed my takeout container into the trashcan. “I guess I’ll take these,” I picked up the list of names and the corresponding files, “and see if I can’t narrow this down further.”

  “Good luck.”

  “I’m sure I’ll need it,” I retorted.

  Seven

  The next morning at MT, I moved in some personal effects: a coffeepot, a couple of mugs, a laptop computer, and a side arm and box of ammunition, just the essentials. I was surprised there were no metal detectors to alert security of incoming weaponry, and I made a mental note to discuss this with Martin. Jeffrey greeted me on my way to the elevators, and I slid my ID card through the slot and rode up to the seventeenth floor alone.

 

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