by Tinnean
“Why… yes. I wasn’t aware you were familiar with the situation.”
“Anson, the WBIS is my organization. I’m aware of everything that goes on within it.”
“Er…” Davies looked as though he was unsure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Yes. Well, as I was saying, Bill went missing the same time Matheson was in Phoenix on some bullshit operation.”
“A lot of people were in Phoenix at the same time,” I growled.
The Boss held up his hand, and I took the advice I’d given my own agent and kept my mouth shut. “Thank you, Mark. Now, tell me something, Anson. What is your position here at the WBIS?” he asked in his mildest tone.
“Ex-excuse me?” Davies stammered. The Boss raised an eyebrow. “You know as well as I do! I’m Director of Public Relations.”
“Yes, you are. And as such, what is the scope of your responsibilities?”
“I… I see to it that the WBIS flies under the radar, that the public remains ignorant of our existence.”
“Precisely.” He steepled his fingers and tapped the tips together. “And yet you felt it was necessary to involve yourself in the matter of another department.”
“Yes, it was! I love this organization. It’s my life. And I’ve been telling you since that mess in ’93 that Vincent is going to be the ruin of the WBIS!”
The Boss turned to me. “Mark, I’ll talk to you later about your handling of this matter. Return to your department.”
“Yes, sir.” I wasn’t going to challenge him in front of Davies, who was smirking as if the ball was in his court, but the files I’d e-mailed The Boss should have proved beyond a doubt that Davies was a useless piece of shit.
And if he was still Director of PR at the end of the day, then I was out of there. I’d had it.
Chapter 14
I walked into my outer office to find Ms. Parker with her head buried on her arms, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
“Goddammit!” I never knew what to do with crying women.
She jumped and turned her face away, sniffling and wiping her palms over her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vincent. I didn’t want to leave the office without anyone… but now that you’re back, I’ll just—”
I handed her a handkerchief. “Come into my office, please.”
She dried her eyes and blew her nose. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
I waited until she rose and entered my office. “Sit down. Can I get you anything?”
“No, oh no, I’m fine.”
Could have fooled me.
My cell phone vibrated for the second time, and I took it out. It was Granger. I flipped it open. “Where are you?”
“And good morning to you too, Mark. I’m on five. Macintyre’s got some new gowns, and I’ve been trying them on. I want to tell you, I look pretty damn good in them! There’s this green lace number—”
“Forget about them and get your ass up to seven.”
“Is something wrong?” His voice suddenly became anxious. “Patti?”
“I’m hoping you can shed some light on this. Just get up here.” I shut the phone and put it away. “Now suppose you tell me what’s bothering you, Ms. Parker?”
Her eyes welled up with tears again. “I… it’s….” She attempted to pull herself together. “Howard had to cancel. Gershom is sending him out on some local job.”
“So did you reschedule him?”
She nodded. “W-Wednesday at the same time.”
“Okay. See? It’s not the end of the world. There’s no need to get upset.” I patted her shoulder.
Her lower lip trembled, and a single tear spilled over and ran down her cheek.
Jesus, I’d never seen my unflappable secretary so distressed.
I cleared my throat. “You’re not crying because Gershom’s an asshole, are you?”
She smiled. She probably thought it was a reassuring smile, but it missed that by a mile and a half when her face crumpled and she began sobbing again.
Someone flung open the door to the outer office, and it slammed against the wall. That’s gonna leave a dent I thought as I reached for my Glock, half expecting one of Gershom’s goons to come tearing into my office, ready to blow my head off, but it was Ms. DiNois who rushed in. She took one look at Ms. Parker and ran to her, dropping to her knees beside her. “Gabe called me.” She took the handkerchief and mopped up Ms. Parker’s eyes. “He’ll be here as soon as he gets changed.” Ms. DiNois stroked her shoulder and continued to murmur soothingly.
I stood there with my hand still inside my suit jacket. What the fuck was going on?
Finally Ms. DiNois turned to face me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vincent. With everything that’s been happening, your call got Granger nervous, and since I’m just down the hall from your office, he asked me to make sure Patti is all right. Sweet—” She cleared her throat. “Ms. Parker, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” Ms. Parker’s face was red. “I’m so sorry.” She leaned forward and whispered, “It’s the hormones.”
What the fuck? She was too young to be going through menopause.
The slap of footsteps sounded on the tiled floor of the corridor, and then Granger skidded into my office, barefoot, out of breath, and holding the skirts of the green lace gown he’d enthused about up around his knees. I let out a low whistle. He did have good legs—even though he wasn’t on the job, they were smooth, tanned, and hairless.
“Gabe?” Ms. DiNois stared wide-eyed.
“I... I couldn’t take the time to change.” He ignored me completely, his gaze going from Matheson’s secretary to mine. Abruptly he looked sick. “The baby?” Baby? “Mark, get Futé up here!”
“No, Gabe, I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine.” Ms. Parker gave him a watery smile. “She’s fine!” She rested her palm on her abdomen.
“Are you sure?” His legs gave out from under him and he collapsed on the floor beside the two secretaries, the gown a puddle around him. And he started crying.
My desk phone rang, and I picked it up. “Yeah?” I growled. If whoever the fuck was on the other end didn’t know who they’d reached, asses were going to be kicked.
“It’s Macintyre. Is Granger there?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, tell him to get his ass back down here. And if that gown doesn’t come back in one piece, I’ll have his balls.” He slammed the phone down.
I gave my head a shake, even though that wouldn’t do anything for the ringing in my ear. I hung up the phone. “Gabe—”
There was a tap on my door. Jesus, now what?
“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Vincent, but my secretary bolted out of my office, and I saw her head this way. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. Nice dress, Granger.”
“Oh, hey, Matheson. Thanks.” Granger looked loopy, and I was glad I hadn’t been around when Ms. Parker told him she was pregnant. “We’re having a baby!”
Matheson looked from Ms. Parker to Ms. DiNois—it was a damn good thing he didn’t include me in that look—and Ms. Parker raised her hand. “Well. Congratulations.” His expression became thoughtful. “Mr. Vincent, I think I will take the rest of the day off.”
“Fine, fine.”
“Ms. DiNois, you may as well go home too.” She looked as if she were about to protest. “Oh, stay here as long as you need to.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He waved aside her gratitude and left, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “Someone mind telling me what’s going on?”
Ms. Parker was bent over Granger, murmuring to him and stroking his hair. She met my eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. I was going to tell you I’m pregnant, but I didn’t know how to.”
Because the only kind of maternity policy the WBIS had was none. Once it became known one of the secretarial staff was pregnant, she was congratulated, given a parting check and a pat on the back, and... encouraged... not to return.
It was time we joined the twenty-first century in this matter as well and came up
with something better.
“She wants to stay as long as she can,” Granger said, taking the handkerchief from Ms. DiNois and drying his face and eyes with it.
“I’ve got no problem with that.” I sure as hell wasn’t giving up an excellent secretary like Ms. Parker. “Do you want to come back?”
“I’d like to. I... I like working for you.”
“Okay then. I’ll talk to The Boss, and then I’ll bring it up with Humphrey.” If I still had a job here myself, that was.
“You will?” Granger bounded to his feet, almost stumbling on the gown’s voluminous skirts before he caught himself. Then he pulled me into a hug and pounded me on the back.
“Enough! Enough!” Why the fuck was he so surprised? “How long before you have to leave, Ms. Parker?”
“I’m four and a half months along, and since you’re not a taskmaster—”
“Jesus, don’t let that get out!”
“No, sir.” She offered a little smile. “My doctor says I’m in excellent health. So unless something unexpected crops up, probably not for another three or four months.”
“Okay, once you’ve left to have the—” Three sets of eyes gave me the fisheye. What did they think I was going to say? “—the baby, I’ll borrow Ms. DiNois.”
“Um…” Granger had the strangest expression on his face, a combination of awe, pride, and disbelief. “Maybe we should tell you that Arianne is pregnant also. Only a few weeks, but….”
I ran a hand through my hair and stared at him. He had been a busy boy.
I went around my desk, checked my calendar, and sat down heavily.
Yeah. It was Monday.
Matheson had gone home. Ms. Parker didn’t start crying again, but Granger and Ms. DiNois thought it would be a good idea to take her home.
“You can’t go around in that,” I warned Granger. Was I supposed to think of him as a man or a woman when he was half-dressed like this?
“No, I’ll get it back to Macintyre.” He tugged at the sweetheart neckline of the gown. “I took out the falsies before I decided I didn’t have the time to change.” He raised the skirts again so he wouldn’t trip on them. He was six feet tall, but it was obvious he’d need to wear six-inch fuck-me heels to prevent the hem from dragging on the floor. “Arianne, stay with Patti and wait for me to come back for you.”
Ms. Parker was in the process of shutting down her computer. “I’m pregnant, not crippled! I can make it down to the first floor under my own steam,” she informed him acerbically, a sharp change from earlier.
Jesus, I was glad I’d never have to worry about my lover having a baby.
Granger went to my secretary, released his grip on the gown, and cupped her face in his hands. “Humor me, sweet?”
She wavered for a second, and he kissed her gently.
“Why don’t you and Ms. DiNois go down with him?” I suggested. And the only reason why I didn’t call him on unprofessional behavior was because I didn’t want Ms. Parker to start crying again. “You’ll be two floors closer to the ground floor.”
“Great idea, Mark.”
“I’m so sorry. I feel like such a dunce,” Ms. Parker murmured as the three of them walked out of my office, Granger with one arm around her, the gown’s skirts bunched up in his free hand, and Ms. DiNois on her other side.
Well, some of us had work to do. Although if Quinn had the day off, I’d go home too.
I called Gershom’s office. “It’s Vincent. I want to see him.”
“Oh… uh… I’m sorry, he’s out of the office. He… uh… won’t be in for the rest of the week.”
Shit.
“May I take a message?”
“Yeah. Tell him I want to see him first thing next Monday morning.”
“I’ll do that, Mr. Vincent.”
I hung up, stared at all the files I still had to go through, and got back to work.
Chapter 15
After a break for lunch in the cafeteria, I returned to my office and the files.
There was no fucking end to them, and hours later, I was still reading them.
They were stacked in three piles on my desk: strong contenders, possibilities, and not in this fucking lifetime. That pile was the largest, but the possibilities took the longest to get through, because there might be something in there that could tip them into the first pile.
I took the last file and opened it. Gill Ahrens was twenty-six. He’d been working for the WBIS for the past three years in Medical, and…
Oh, for fuck’s sake, was this going to be a repeat of the situation with Matheson?
Ahrens had grown up in a decent neighborhood, the youngest of four kids—and the only boy. He’d been a volunteer fireman from the time he’d graduated high school, went on to become an EMT and then a paramedic.
How the fuck had he been recruited to the WBIS?
The phone on Ms. Parker’s desk rang. I left the file on my desk and went to answer it. Normally I’d let it go to her voice mail, but I was still waiting for The Boss to summon me up to his office.
“Vincent,” I announced curtly.
There was a moment of silence, and then Ms. DiBlasi spoke. “I’m not about to ask why you’re answering your secretary’s phone.”
Good thing, because I had no intention of telling her. “What can I do for you, Ms. DiBlasi?”
“Mr. Wallace would like to speak with you. In his office.”
It was about fucking time. “I’m on my way up.”
“He’ll be so thrilled.” She hung up. It didn’t sound like she was my biggest fan right now.
I looked around the outer office. This might be the last time I was in here. The coffeepot was still on, so I shut it off and then returned to my office. I flipped Ahrens’s file shut, slid the CD into its drive, and shut down my computer. If I was out on my ass, whoever tried to reboot it was going to be in for an unpleasant surprise.
After a final glance around the office, I put on my suit jacket, draped my overcoat over my arm, and walked out, locking the door behind me.
The corridor to the stairwell was empty, unusual for this time of day. I pulled open the door and jogged up to ten, to find something else unusual.
The corridor to The Boss’s office was deserted as well. Then I noticed people poking their heads out of their offices and jerking them back in when they spotted me. Word must have gotten out that all hell would be breaking loose soon. Not that it surprised me. The grapevine in any organization could be rabid.
Ms. DiBlasi observed me sourly as I entered the outer office. “Go right on in.”
“And good afternoon to you too,” I muttered under my breath. I smoothed back my hair, turned the doorknob, and walked in.
The Boss raised an eyebrow when he saw my overcoat, but didn’t say anything, just nodded toward a chair.
I folded the coat over the back of the chair, sat down, and waited.
He got right down to brass tacks. “You do like to stir things up, don’t you, Mark?”
“I won’t have my department fucked with.”
“No. That’s one of the reasons I gave you Interior Affairs.” He gazed at me beneath hooded lids, and I waited for him to bring up the e-mail I’d sent him. Instead, he tidied a stack of papers on his desk. “By the way, have you come to any decisions regarding the files Human Resources sent to you?”
“You were right about Rayne. She seems to be a solid bet. So does Johnson. Ahrens is promising, but I haven’t finished reading his file, and I’ve got some questions about his background. As for the others….” I shrugged. “I don’t know what they were thinking to even apply.”
“The prestige of working under you, Mark.”
No point in beating about the bush. “Would they be working under me?”
“Excuse me?”
“What did that son of a—what did Davies have to say?”
“Beyond what he said in your presence? More of the same.”
“And the information I e-mailed you?” He di
dn’t respond to that, and I wondered if that meant anything. “You know he doesn’t want me here.”
“I’m aware of that. He’d much prefer if it was someone like Phelps.”
“Who?” I stared at him. “You mean the guy who changes the toilet paper in the men’s room?”
He choked, swallowing his laughter. “He doesn’t quite do that. Phelps is a good man.”
“If you want to give him Interior Affairs—”
“Mark, if I didn’t want you to have your position, you’d still be out in the field, and I’d still be pretending I had no clue as to your real age.”
“Sir?” I’d been so thorough in concealing my actual date of birth. How could he… But then I remembered Quinn had been able to dig it up. If a spook could, so could the man who ran the WBIS.
“You’re not going to tell me you have no idea what I’m talking about, are you?”
“No, sir. But I don’t.”
This time he did laugh, and he shook his head. “Of course not.” His expression became thoughtful. “I was unaware Anson was overstepping his bounds to such a degree. Those files in the e-mail you sent were quite the eye-opener. I’ve persuaded him it would be in his best interest to retire.”
I’d thought The Boss had done that last year, but Davies had turned up again, a real pain in my ass if ever there was one.
“He insisted on training his successor—”
I opened my mouth to protest, and he held up a hand.
“I told him that wouldn’t be necessary. Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased.”
“The WBIS means a lot to him.” Or so he’d said.
“Too much, apparently, and that’s just one of the things that convinced me it’s time for him to step down. For a man who sits behind a desk, this should be a job, not his life.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’ll notice I clarified that.”
“Sir?”
“When you were in the field, this job was your life. And that was how it should be. Not only did the WBIS depend on you, but I did as well.” He tugged on his lower lip. “I’ve noticed since your promotion that it no longer is the case.”
“Are you unhappy with my work?” It wasn’t the promotion that had changed my priorities… it was becoming involved with Quinn.
