“All good I hope.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s good. It’s all about elevating you to heavy hitter land. They’re saying it’s all but a done deal. That VP guy––”
“Gerald Thorn, head of sales?”
“Yeah, that guy. Word is he only needs to approve it.”
“Really? Well what the hell is he waiting for? I got the orders.”
“Dunno. As far as I can tell, you’re number one for the month.”
“How’s that?”
“Your name is up on the board.”
“Really?” Go Darby. Go Darby. Go Darby.
“Yeah, but I heard you still need his John Hancock to make it official.”
“Shit. Gerald’s probably wanting to make sure this isn’t a flash in the pan or that I won’t have the same problems I had with the Gopher guys. What’s the other thing?”
“Harold’s starting to dig around for info on this company.”
“How do you know?”
“One of my peeps is in IT. He says Harold has a lackey going through your browsing history.”
“Are you serious?”
“Totally. I told you they do this shit.”
“That nosey bastard.”
“If he finds anything, he’ll blab to Gerald about it. If that happens, you can kiss that dream of becoming a heavy hitter goodbye.”
“What a prick. Thanks for cluing me in.” I kicked the waste container below my desk. I always did when I felt like kicking something.
“Come on; let’s check out the wall. It’ll cheer you up.”
Five minutes later I stood in Teleco’s break room staring at my name on the wall. I felt great, invincible really. I’d almost forgotten about my Harold troubles when he walked in.
Shock and dismay appeared on Harold’s face when he spotted the plaque. It was like he’d just been told there was no Santa Claus after believing there was one his entire life.
“Yo, Darb, you da man!” Tav said extra loudly as he patted my back.
There was a big grin on my face when we left the break room. I couldn’t shake it. I was so happy. I felt like I had really accomplished something. This wasn’t dumb luck like the Gopher guys had been. I had actually thought of a plan, executed it, and was now enjoying the rewards.
“So how does it feel to be a heavy hitter?”
“I’m not one yet. Don’t jinx it.”
“You’re going to get it.”
“Yeah, but until it’s final…it’s all about the closure, you know?”
“I hear you. Was it worth it?”
“Seeing Harold’s face when he saw the plaque on the wall was a MasterCard moment––priceless.”
Chapter 103
Seeing Darby’s name on the wall almost sent Harold back to the hospital. But he wasn’t about to give Darby the satisfaction. Now more than ever, he was determined to get to the bottom of Darby’s so-called fast track to success.
“So what are you saying, Sayid? This guy don’t surf the Internet?”
“I did not say that. I said he keeps his online habits to a minimum.”
“Keep looking. There must be some clue somewhere. There always is.”
“Well it turns out Darby use to surf the Internet a lot and then suddenly all activity dropped. It’s as if he decided to never access the Internet at Teleco again.”
“So this guy stopped going on the Internet?”
“It appears that way. I can give you six months of usage before the activity stopped. It’s the best I can do.”
Harold poured over the sites Darby had visited in the last six months. There had to be something. A pattern. But it was all random stupid stuff.
Darby looked up what was playing at the movies. He browsed Netflix and Amazon a lot. He followed a blog that specialized in giving reviews for the latest and greatest late night products. There was also the day he spent looking up all things cheese, how to build an igloo, NASCAR drivers that had the most sponsors, Triad gangs in Hong Kong, food that caused farting, panning for gold...and then it struck Harold.
Darby’s client was a toy company in Hong Kong.
“Hey, Sayid, can you do a word search on his history?”
“Sure. Tell me the words.”
“Triad and Hong Kong.”
Sayid punched in the keywords and ran a check.
“We have a hit…and another…and more. He’s definitely dabbled in this area.”
“Get me a print-out of it all.” Could Darby seriously be involved with the Triads? Harold’s frown was finally turning upside down.
A quick Google search revealed that Darby’s toy company client had a website. The homepage had the company’s name and featured some of the toys they sold. There was a product page where one could punch in their information to request a catalog. Lastly, every page told the visitor to call a sales associate for information. The site was boring and drab. How the hell are they pulling in business?
The contact information was a phone number and email. That was it. One couldn’t get any more basic with the email: [email protected].
Harold picked up his phone and dialed the number. The phone rang five times before a recording came on, first in Chinese and then English: I’m sorry but our sales associates are busy helping other customers. Please leave your name and number and we will call you back shortly. Beeeep. Harold tried again and got the message again. Google searches led him nowhere. The only thing about the company that appeared to exist was their website.
Harold called five more times that day. Each time he got the same message. The time difference with Hong Kong finally dawned on him and he waited until after 5 p.m. San Francisco time to call––9 a.m. in Hong Kong. But when the time rolled around, there still was no answer. He called sixty more times in the next two hours with no results. And with each call his suspicion increased. Something wasn’t right. What kind of multinational company doesn’t have a receptionist to answer the phones?
A fake one.
Chapter 104
Waking up in a strange bed paled in comparison. No one could prepare for a kidnapping. Leslie was still woozy when she regained consciousness. She remembered bits and pieces of the attack. It was night. He came from behind. The rag reeked of chloroform. That’s how he got Sulyn. It’s how he got me. But I got him right in the leg. She remembered that.
Every time she tried to sit up, carpet bombs went off in her head. She quickly gave up on the effort. Her throat was raspy and dry. She couldn’t see anything, only darkness. A dark room…a basement?
Leslie did her best to mentally log the observations she could manage. She was aware that her hands were tied together behind her back with some type of cloth material. Not tightly, though; there was a little play––enough to give her hope of escaping. Her feet were bound at the ankles with similar material. Things were starting to look up––well, as up as things can look for a person being held hostage by a psychopath.
There was a gag tied around her mouth. It prevented her from licking her lips. And how she wanted to lick her chapped lips right now. She could feel the tightness in them. They probably looked like dried prunes. Like the ties around her wrists and ankles, the gag was a little loose. She moved her jaw back and forth and with some prodding from her tongue, was able to push the cloth out of her mouth and wiggle it down below her chin.
She gasped for air, sucking greedily in and blowing forcefully. Why aren’t the bindings tied tightly? Is this a trap? Was she expected to loosen the bindings only to face the devil himself?
Leslie had still not determined what she was lying on. It was hard and cold. Certainly not metal, she could tell that much. It was some kind of container, judging from the high walls. And then her toes discovered a drain. Where are my shoes? Why am I in a tub?
Leslie struggled, floundered felt more like it, to sit up again but couldn’t quite manage with her hands tied behind her back. And then the wooziness hit her again, forcing her to lie back down. She tried to fight it, to resist the vulnera
bility of sleep, but it felt like fifty-pound dumbbells were attached to her eyelids. She was out in seconds.
Chapter 105
It was business as usual at Teleco, until I exited the elevator. Walking toward my cubicle, I heard Numb Nuts shouting.
“Hey, everybody. Look at Darby. He’s walking like his shit don’t smell. Is that it, Darby? You think your shit don’t smell? Are you suddenly better than everyone on this floor? Huh?” Harold unnecessarily questioned.
I ignored the fool as I dropped off my bag and headed to the break room to grab a coffee. When I got there, I admired my name on the wall for second. Was I walking differently now? I blew it off and started fixing myself a drink. That’s when I noticed that Harold had followed me in. I pretended not to see him and started to sing about the wicked witch being dead.
“Cut the crap. I’m on to you. I called your toy company and no one picks up the phone there.”
“I know. I’ve been telling them they need to get a receptionist. Ever since they’ve started doing business with Teleco, sales have gone through the roof. They’re so busy. This is truly a result of the wireless business solutions––”
Harold cut me off by slamming his fist on the counter next to me. “Don’t fuck with me Darby,” he said as he leaned in closer. “Triad.”
I froze like a popsicle on the inside. On the outside I was Kool Moe Dee. Giving the Hunchback the slightest idea he was onto to something would’ve been devastating. “Triads? What’s this gibberish you’re learning in night school Harold?”
He remained quiet and smiled, grinning like a man-sized Augustus Gloop from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. And then he turned around and waddled away.
I waited until he was completely out of sight, and then a few more seconds after just to be sure, before letting out a big breath of air. Shit!
When I got back to my desk, I tried calling Leslie again but there was no answer. I had sent her a text message the morning after I flaked on her explaining why I didn’t return her calls about our dinner date and then followed up with a call. I thought everything would be cool but maybe it wasn’t. Was she really ignoring me? I didn’t think she was the type to get dramatic. I had thought a coma was reason enough. After the fourth message, I stopped calling. Normally I wouldn’t leave so many––it was very needy behavior––but I really wanted to see her. I could swing by the house. I might just do that.
The rest of the day I sat in my cubicle, restless. Deciding what to do about Harold had become my top priority, numero uno. I had an idea, maybe worthy of Darbytastic status, but I had been flip-flopping back and forth over it. Tav was no help. His answer was “No” as usual. But I had to throw Harold off track. The brown nose was up to no good and I was beginning to panic.
So I did what any normal person in my position would have done. I called Chu.
Chapter 106
“Hello, Chu? Is that you?”
“Darby, you in Hong Kong?”
“No, I’m still in San Francisco, but I need to speak to Sing. It’s important. Is he there?”
“No, I’m not with Sing. Don’t know where he is.”
“Do you know when you might see him again? It’s important.”
“No. What’s the problem? Maybe I can help?”
I never thought to ask Chu for help. I don’t know why. I get along better with Chu than Sing. “Chu, I think you can help me. I need a favor.”
“What is it?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I really didn’t need you to do this. And I’m being very serious here. Everything is going well with the Get Organized program right?”
“Yeah!”
“Well, I’ve run into a snag on my end.”
“What’s a snag?” Chu asked, now concerned.
“Snag means problem. But it’s one I can handle. I just need your help. I need you to pretend to be the CEO of the toy company.”
There was silence on the phone. I knew Chu hadn’t hung up on me because I could still hear his breathing. “You want me to be boss of company?”
“And be part of a very, very short, informal video conference call with some people here at Teleco.”
“Talk business? What I know about the phone business?”
“It’s like a meet and greet. Just say hi, and how happy you are with the service and how it’s helping your business. It’s a thank-you video.”
“No.”
“Why?
“Not my problem.”
“Chu you’re not listening, it’s both our problem.”
“No, you not listening. It’s your problem.”
“Okay, it’s my problem, but I need your help.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“In it for you? It solves the problem.”
“I don’t have a problem. You do. If this affects operations, then I will have a problem but it will be with you, Darby.”
The room for negotiation was quickly disappearing. While I initially thought this would be a slam-dunk, I was quickly reminded whom I did business with. Now more than ever I was more confused about gangs’ dynamics. Chu, always willing to go along, was the more approachable, happier gang member; Sing was the ass. This was a whole side to Chu that I had never seen before. This was a harder, meaner, much more authoritarian Chu.
“Okay, I’ll reduce my fee to eleven percent for the remaining weeks in my contract.” Lowering my fee was my best offer. I didn’t want to mess around. It’s the best I had and I threw it out there. I waited for what seemed like forever.
“Okay. I will do this. Five minutes, Darby. That’s it. And it’s ten percent.”
“Fine. Ten percent.”
Thank God Chu agreed to do it. He was screwing me, but it was a small price to pay for the bigger picture. I could afford to lose a few dollars on the deal but I couldn’t afford to lose my operation. I needed to keep Harold in check.
I still thought the idea was brilliant––Darbytastic even. The CEO of LC Toys, Inc., wanting to personally send a video message about how happy he was with Teleco is genius. Anything Harold could think of to bring up to management after this, they would quickly negate. Upper management was as predictable as Fat Sal was. All they wanted was happy customers who issued purchase orders up the yin-yang. Harold was toast.
Chapter 107
Later that evening I walked over to Shelia and Andy Funn’s place. I looked at the row of Victorians double-checking with my memory. I had actually never been here before but Leslie once mentioned to me it was the green and blue house opposite the park.
I could see the lights were on through the bay window, so I bounded up the steps like a triple jumper and knocked. A man answered––Leslie’s brother-in-law, I guessed.
“Hi, Andy. I’m Darby Stansfield,” I said extending my hand.
“Oh, yes, yes. Please, come inside.”
I stood uncomfortably in the middle of the living room. It was stiff and white, like a museum. A fancy sitting room that didn’t get much sitting. But Andy directed me to a chair anyway.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you. I wanted to talk to Leslie.”
“Leslie?” He seemed surprised. “Oh, she’s not here.”
I jerked back a bit. I wasn’t expecting that response.
“She hasn’t been around for, let’s see, two, maybe three days I think.”
“Three days?”
“Sheila and I thought she went to stay with you for a few days.”
“With me? I haven’t seen her in three days and she hasn’t returned my calls––that’s why I stopped by.”
Andy’s a matter-of-fact look didn’t disappear as he looked down at his shoes. “I see.”
“It didn’t occur to you something might be wrong, when she disappeared?”
“No,” he said innocently. “Leslie is very independent. In all the years I’ve known her she never seemed like the type to stay long in one place or rely on people much. Her taking off without saying anything is very much in her nature.”
&
nbsp; “Sheila thinks the same thing?”
“More so than I. Give it a few more days. I’m sure she’ll pop up.”
With Andy and Sheila being so blasé about Leslie’s disappearance––it made me wonder if I was overreacting. Honestly, I didn’t know what to think. Part of me thought Andy and Sheila were self-centered and don’t notice much outside of their world––it took them days to report their own kid missing, for christsake. Andy’s lack of attention to his houseguest suddenly disappearing wasn’t normal. Not to be a dick about it, but maybe if the Funns gave a shit about others, their daughter might still be alive.
For my own peace of mind, I decided to check with the two detectives she was working the case with. Maybe they had heard from her.
Chapter 108
Around eight thirty the next morning, I tested out the videoconference out with Chu. One of the brothers was able to hook a webcam up to Chu’s laptop. I would be using my MacBook on my end. The call was set for nine California time, midnight Hong Kong time, as a reason to keep it short. A very select group from upper management was invited. I wanted this to be informal, like a conference call that everyone gathers around.
The video worked okay. A little lag every now and then but that would play in our favor for keeping the call short.
“Will this work?” Chu asked.
“Yeah. It’ll be a piece of cake.”
“I’m going to set up the meeting with a couple of Powerpoint slides showing the progress your company has made. By the time I dial you in, all their questions would be answered. All you need to do is say thank you.”
At nine sharp I entered the conference room and just about died. There must have been more than thirty people crammed in there. What happened to my small, informal gathering? The most there should have been was five people, max. Word had gotten out and the entire team and most of the heavy hitters had showed up. Then I spotted Harold. He was in the back corner with a big grin on his face.
Okay, fucker, so this is how it’s going to be? “Hello everybody,” I said. “Thanks for coming. I didn’t expect this big of a turn out.”
Darby Stansfield Thriller Series (Books 1-3 & Bonus Novella) Page 22
