The Journal: A Prophecy, A President & Death

by Parker, W. Leland

“How about absolutely everything.”

  “Uhhhh, gosh. That was, good grief, six years ago? I’m not going to remember much.”

  “Let’s try anyway,” says Hinton, as he opens his note pad.

  “Oooookay. I was the VP of Sales then; and the girl that was working as my admin, left.”

  “Why?”

  “She had gotten sick, and–”

  “Sick from what?”

  “I think they decided it was food poisoning.”

  “Okay, go on.”

  “And so, while she was out we hired a temp.”

  “And was that Miss Brayson?”

  “No, that girl just disappeared.”

  “Really. So you hired a temp before Miss Brayson that walked off the job?”

  “Yeah, she um, actually, she just didn’t show up for work one day.”

  “Go on.”

  “It was Monday morning, and she didn’t show. We had a call from the agency that morning checking how she was working out; we told them what had gone on, and they apologized, and to make it up to us they told us they were rushing over their very best girl, Miss Brayson.”

  “I see. Go on.”

  “That’s it. She was great—IS great; and as far as I can see is not at all mixed up with Calvin and this abduction plot.”

  “I see. Well, let’s just be sure. You know, do the smart thing and check out everything that might help us on this.”

  “Okay, but I bet you’ll find investigating Brayson is a huge waste of time.”

  “I’mmm guessing that was just a figure of speech.”

  “What? Oh, yes. I-I don’t bet,” says the minister with a laugh.

  “’Cause I’ve got a twenty-dollar bill that’s just itching to prove you wrong!”

  “Sorry.”

  “Oh, well. So, Miss Brayson is hired, as a temp only; and she’s doing a great job …”

  “Yeah, she was a temp. But I think she was with a different agency, and was not happy there, so we offered her the job.”

  “Was this allowed? I mean, by her agency.”

  “Uhh, I don’t remember, I didn’t handle that personally, but I remember her saying she could work for us at some point. I had one of my managers handle it.”

  “Hmm. Was she highly credentialed, Miss Brayson?”

  “You know, I don’t know if I’d ever seen anything beyond a business card. We were in a jam, and they sent over whom they said—and I can believe—was their very best girl. After that, her work ethics were her credentials. That’s why I still say that I think you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

  “Hmm.” Says Hinton, who thinks a moment then asks, “So the agency from which the girl who walked off sent Brayson over.”

  “Right.”

  “Then what was this about,” he checks his notes, “you said that you thought Brayson was from a different agency?”

  “Yeah, like I said, I didn’t handle it directly, but I remember something along those lines.”

  “Hmm. Do you remember the name of the manager who handled it?”

  “Yeah, that would have been Ken Hutchinson.”

  Hinton thinks a few moments further then asks, “Whatever happened to the girl that got sick? What was her name?”

  “Oh, gosh; um … Rita, or Reva. Something with an R.”

  “And what became of her?”

  “Regina! That’s what she went by; but her name was actually, Virginia, I think; and I’m not sure where she is now. She did recover, and I think she applied for her old job back, but wound up working at another software company.”

  “And did you hear anything further from the agency about the girl that disappeared?”

  “Not that I can recall. Wait, you know, I do remember some confusion about her, some big mix up as to whom we talked to when she walked off. That’s how this other agency factors in.”

  “And what was her name?”

  “Oh, gracious! I really don’t remember. She was only there about three, four days.”

  “Hmm. If you’ll excuse me a moment,” says Hinton, who then looks around at where everyone is seated; and, since he doesn’t want to leave Robert alone, he adds, “On second thought, please follow me.” He leads Robert to the kitchen via the hall, and poking his head inside he asks Lauren, “Agent Coles, do we still have people over at Mr. Market’s office?”

  Through the cracked door Robert looks at his wife who looks at him and sees the alarm on his face when he hears that there are agents at his job.

  Lauren replies, “I don’t know, check with Pratt.”

  Robert interjects, “You have investigators at my company?”

  “Yes, sir; it’s standard procedure.”

  As they walk back to the living room, an uneasy Robert Market adds, “But, we’ve got a big presentation this– Tomorrow … a presentation that I’ve already abandoned them on. Can my guys do their work? I hope you haven’t pulled the place apart!”

  “I’m sorry but I really don’t know the situation there.”

  “Is it alright if I call and see what’s going on?”

  Directing him back to the living room Hinton says, “Tell you what, I can ask when I get someone on the phone.”

  Still uncomfortable, but making his way back to his seat he all but grumbles, “I’d sure sleep better if I could talk to one of my guys.”

  Excusing himself so he can talk to Pratt in private, Hinton closes the matter saying, “Perhaps you would, sir, but for now, this is what we’re gonna do. So please wait for me there.” Hinton steps out into the foyer where he can still see everyone, and tries to reach Pratt on the walkie-talkie but there is no response. Pratt is supposed to be following Mary, but when he cannot be reached Hinton grumbles, “Humph, probably watching a double feature.” Not to be thwarted, he remembers and reaches into his pocket to retrieve Pratt’s business card and tries to reach him on his cell phone. “Pratt?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I tried to reach you on the radio, but there was no answer.”

  “I had to switch that off, you can’t be inconspicuous with that thing on.” He is at the moment peering through a pair of binoculars, sitting in his car parked at a gas station, which is strategically located across the street from a grocery store where Mary, who has a brand new hairdo, is picking up some groceries.

  “Oh, I figured you were at the multiplex.”

  Silence. Then, “What do you want, Agent Hinton?”

  “I needed to know if you guys still have someone over at Phone Tools, Mr. Market’s company.”

  “Yes, one of our guys is working with one of their VPs.”

  “Any objection to me talking with him?”

  “None.”

  “Thanks. Do you have his number?”

  “Yes, hold on.” Agent Pratt maneuvers his phone so he can look up and provide the number.”

  “Thanks again,” says Hinton, then adds, “Sorry ’bout the multiplex crack.”

  “I’m getting used to you.”

  Hinton laughs. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. Goodbye;” then calls the NSA agent in charge at Robert’s company—an Agent Bob Caldwell. After a brief introduction, which wasn’t even necessary because Caldwell had already been briefed on Hinton, they move on to the point the call. “So, Agent Caldwell, what I’m after are the specifics surrounding a Virginia Banks, who used to work there. Perhaps they’ll remember her better as Regina. So, if you can get a home number, next of kin, that sort of thing.”

  “Agent Hinton, do you mind if I ask what all this is about?”

  “I’m just trying to figure something out.”

  “If I didn’t know any better I’d say it sounds like you’re investigating Carla Brayson.”

  “No, just following up on a hunch.”

  “Do you mind sharing that hunch with me—considering this is my assignment?”

  “Not at all, but after you give me the number and I make one quick phone call.”

  “You know, Clarkson made a note about you bein
g trouble, and my boss said to watch my back around you.”

  “Your boss? Who the heck is your boss, and what did I ever do to him?”

  “Never mind that, I’ve got a ton of stuff to get through here, so if you want me to get this number you need to tell me exactly what you’re doing.”

  Hinton grumbles, “Delightful, now I’m making enemies in departments I don’t work in with people I don’t even know!”

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Okay, here’s the deal. I was talking with the father here. He tells me about this Brayson person that you’re looking for; he tells me, not that I was asking, ’cause that’s your assignment, not mine. He tells me that she was hired when another temp, whose name he couldn’t remember, up and disappeared.”

  “Yeah, and …”

  “Well, seeing that her disappearance conveniently lead to Miss Brayson being hired, I was just wondering what actually became of her?”

  “Do you think she’s a part of the plot?”

  “No, I think she’s dead.”

  “Oh! Okay. Why don’t you pass this on to research staff?”

  “Cause its two something on a Sunday afternoon and I’m here in Nothing-Better-To-Do New York. Besides I think they may have finally been sent home.”

  “Look, um, Hinton, I’ve got orders; but I think that you’re on to something there. Are you hoping that the girl that got sick will likely know the name of the temp who replaced her?”

  “Yes. She must have had to train her or tell her where things were.”

  “Couldn’t we get the name from one of these guys, or maybe via HR?”

  “Trust me, we’ll get much more flavor from a worker than some manager.”

  Agent Caldwell thinks about it and says, “Okay. Do you know how to do a conference call, so I’m not violating anything?”

  “Oh, God, I don’t know how to do that on this phone. Can you hold on?”

  “Well, while you figure that out, I’ll see if I can find her current number. I’ll call you back.”

  Hinton calls out, “James, can you come here a moment?”

  James, who is still playing a video game with Joseph, pauses the game and walks over to Hinton who asks him if he knows how to use the conference call feature on his phone. He doesn’t, but it only takes him seconds to figure it out.

  Hinton smiles at him and says, “Thanks future Agent Market.”

  James smiles back, “Your lips to God’s ears,” and returns to resume play with Joseph.

  Robert, however, intercepts him in route and asks if he knows if Hinton was talking with his office. Unfortunately, James has no idea, which does little to ease the increasing concerns of the worried CEO on the eve of his company’s biggest presentation. About two minutes later, Agent Caldwell calls back.

  Hinton proceeds to conference in the admin who worked for Robert before the temp and ultimately, Carla Brayson. “Good afternoon. Is this the Virginia Banks, who worked for the Phone Tools company about six years ago?”

  A lady answers, “Yes. I’m Mrs. Carter now, but that’s me. Whom am I speaking with?”

  “Well, congratulations Mrs. Carter. My name is Albert Hinton, and I’m an investigator for the FBI. We are looking into the disappearance of the temp who filled in for you at Phone Tools.”

  “Susan?”

  “Yes. What can you tell us about Susan?”

  “Susan McCormick. She was a very sharp girl, is all I know.”

  “Really.”

  “Oh yes, she was an expert in almost every software program, and picked up on things like nobody else.”

  “Did you like her—Personally?”

  “I didn’t know her all that well, we only spoke face to face about two or three times. I was in the hospital recovering from an illness.”

  “I’m sorry, I hope that’s all well behind you.”

  “Oh yes, but at the time it got to be pretty bad.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re alright.”

  “Mr. …”

  “Hinton.”

  “Hinton. I guess that’s Officer Hinton.”

  “Actually it’s agent, but go on.”

  “I’m sorry, Agent Hinton, what’s this about?”

  “Well, Mrs. Carter, if you can keep this under wraps, we want to know why Susan walked off the job.”

  “I see.” She thinks a moment then offers, “You want to know what I think?”

  “It would be a great help.”

  “I think it has something to do with the agency of the girl who replaced her.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Something strange how she came out of no where.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, when Susan disappeared, they called me to recommend a different agency, but I didn’t know of any others that had someone who could report to Mr. Market in that small town office of his—he was working mostly from his home town office back then.”

  “Go on.”

  “When they called me back and said the agency was sending over another girl, it didn’t make sense. That same agency had told me that Susan was the only person they had who could work in either Middletown or the city. So where this girl come from, and what agency did she come from?”

  “Did you tell anyone about your concerns?”

  “I was in the hospital; I did mention it to a couple of girls who came to see me, but …”

  “They didn’t believe you.”

  “Well they were in such a jam, and so happy with this new girl, they didn’t want to look at a gift horse, you know? But not me, I was determined to call and check into it! I have a very suspicious nature! In fact I know I could work for the FBI!”

  “We get that a lot,” says Hinton with typical dryness. “So, did you ever look further?”

  “Well, with my health issues at the time, I couldn’t really take the time.”

  “I understand. Thank you. You have been a tremendous help.”

  After Virginia hangs up, Agent Caldwell, who had been listening in silence, takes his phone off mute and says, “I’ve got McCormick’s mom’s number; her name is Darlene. And it’s Sharon, not Susan. She was twenty-four when she disappeared.”

  Hinton, impressed, says, “Geez, NSA huh?”

  To which Caldwell only says, “Yeah well, it’s what we do. You wanna handle this one too?”

  “Investigation—it’s what we do. Sure.”

  Mrs. Darlene McCormick answers the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Mrs. McCormick. My name is Albert Hinton ma’am; I’m an agent with the FBI. I’d–”

  “Oh, my God!” she interrupts; “I knew this day was coming. She’s dead isn’t she.”

  “I’m sorry ma’am, I’m not sure–”

  “My daughter, Sharon. You’re not calling to tell me you’ve found her dead?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Thank God! I thought for sure. I’m sorry, I … I’m sorry, may I help you?”

  “Well, to be clear ma’am, I am calling in reference to her leaving her job six years ago at Phone Tools.”

  “I know; that’s when she left town.”

  “Left town?”

  “Yes, she left us a note saying—I told all this to the police. I called the company she was working for and asked them what she did to get fired. What are you talking about? What is this about?”

  “Ma’am, I can answer those questions, but please be patient with me while I ask a few questions of my own. Now, if I have this straight, you got a note of some sort from your daughter, Sharon, saying she got fired from her job, and was leaving town?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the note was in her own handwriting?”

  “Yes, the police asked me that.”

  “And so you called the Phone Tools Company and asked why they fired her?”

  “Phone Tools Company? No, I called the temp agency where she worked. What’s the Phone Tools Company?”

  “I’ll explain in just a moment ma’am. S
o you called her job and they confirmed that she was fired.”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. And why did they say she was let go?”

  “I don’t remember; something about failure to do something. They sent a letter.”

  “Do you still have the letter?”

  “Yes.”

  “And after she left town, did you hear from her? Phone call, letter, anything?”

  “No. Not a word. Which is why I called the police. Now will you please tell me what this is about?”

  “Yes; just one more question. Was leaving town like that normal behavior for your daughter? Was she … a spur-of-the-moment type person?”

  Very quietly she says, “No. No she wasn’t.”

  “Well ma’am, I am working on an unrelated case, but I have reason to believe that you daughter may have been abducted, and there is hope that she could yet be alive.”

  “I thought so! No one believed me. Oh, my God, that would be– Oh, my God!”

  “Ma’am, I don’t want to create false expectations; this is just a hunch. Is it alright if we sent another agent by to speak with you in person, to look at that letter?”

  “Yes, sure, by all means!”

  “Okay ma’am, thank you for your cooperation.”

  “No, thank you! I’d completely given up. Maybe there’s a chance, right?”

  “Yes ma’am. Like I said, I don’t want to create false expectations, but there is a chance. I’d say the odds are fifty-fifty. Goodbye.”

  She hangs up. Agent Caldwell says, “I’ve got to hand it too you; when you’ve got a hunch, you’ve got a hunch!”

  Hinton, “I think you’re right about getting some researchers on this. This poor girl could be anywhere, and they will be the best way to find her.”

  “So you really think she’s alive?”

  “Well, like I said, there’s an equal chance of it. Look at it from the assailant’s point of view. You roll into town looking to infiltrate the father’s company. What better way than as a temp-hire. Only thing you need to be close to the father. So you slip his secretary a dose of poison and when the temp job opens up, there you go. But somehow something goes wrong and they call a different temp agency, or you don’t get your girl in place, so now you’ve got to get rid of the girl they hired.”

  “Why not just bump her off?”

  “If you’re trying to slip in, with as little commotion as possible, you don’t want the place crawling with police, asking questions. Besides, I’ve noticed a distinct reluctance to kill in this group. They could have just as easily taken out the secretary, but only chose to poison her—and with a non-lethal dose—and Calvin could have come at me with his weapon, but when I confronted him, I notice he was reaching for his taser, not his pistol.”