Archer Securities

by Jove Belle

  Trinity had no idea what to do with it, or the house, without Ornella. Yvonne was pushing hard for Trinity to join her in Costa Rica, suggesting that Graciela would benefit from having a mentor close by. And she’d also mentioned, not so subtly, how nice it would be to have someone there to warm her bed when her boyfriend, Adam, was off saving some endangered plankton. Trinity wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Essentially, Yvonne had said she saw Trinity as good enough to fill in, but not good enough for full time. It wasn’t new, Yvonne’s attitude toward Trinity in relation to Adam, but she’d never said it quite so boldly before.

  Trinity unlocked the car, climbed in, and stretched across to unlock the passenger door for Carol. The Volvo was slow to start, having sat long enough for the engine to cool. Trinity gave the engine a moment to warm up before she shifted into gear and pulled out of the lot.

  “Sure is strange, the way things work out,” Carol said; her whole body sagged with the announcement.

  “Sure is.” Trinity wished for a distraction, but the road was long, wide, and free of traffic, save them. The only thing to do was talk to Carol. “What will you do now?”

  In the past, Carol had talked about going back to Jamaica.

  “I don’t know. My own kids are spread all over the planet, and I miss home something fierce. But I also feel in my bones like I should be here for a spell longer.”

  Trinity glanced out the window as the blacktop rolled slowly by. She’d never been much of a driver, preferring the bus or even her bike. It was odd to sit on this side of the car.

  “What about you, Trinity? Will you keep the house?”

  Trinity took another deep breath. “I’ve been asking myself that same question.”

  “What else is there for you?”

  “Everything.” Trinity didn’t know what that entailed exactly, but she repeated the answer more firmly, “Everything.”

  * * *

  No matter how hard Laila scratched, she never got any deeper than surface level. She knew Trinity Washington was responsible for the shortages at Archer, but every thread she pulled simply evaporated into nothing. This was not how puzzles were supposed to work. When she pulled, the mystery should have unraveled.

  Instead, Laila was close to unraveling.

  With her tongue in cheek response about housekeeping, Trinity had taunted Laila. She’d said it playfully, laying down the challenge. Similar to a child playing Marco Polo in the dead of night, she’d dared Laila to find her.

  God help her, Laila had tried.

  Ivar, her forensic accountant, had scoured the accounts. While he’d been able to sort out the particulars of which financial nuggets were legitimate business and which ones were fraudulent, tantamount to embezzlement, he hadn’t been able to determine where anything went after it left Archer’s systems.

  He’d brought in a computer guy. Best in the business, Ivar had assured her. Considering the standards Ivar held himself to when it came to work, she counted his endorsement as highly valuable. He had come up similarly empty handed. He’d traced a few financial transactions to the international border, but refused to go beyond that point. Apparently, some institutions enforced their banking security stridently enough to frighten him off.

  And so Laila had been left with a Robin-Hood-shaped specter who was siphoning money away from Archer and dispersing it, as far as Laila could tell, to the financially needy. Trinity had teased Laila that day at Open Doors because she could. She was that good, and she knew it. Unless she confessed, which was exceptionally unlikely, she was untouchable. There wasn’t a damn thing Laila could do about it.

  Rather than making Laila angry, she was intrigued. She’d never come up against a wall such as this before. That made Trinity unique, and to Laila, that was irresistible. She was like the cobra swaying to the lyrical flute music, desperate to strike but too enchanted to do so. Trinity was cast as the snake charmer.

  After far too many days in a row, Laila was no closer to proving her theory. It was as if she was trapped in an insane loop, and she wasn’t sure if she was chasing Trinity or the other way around. All signs indicated that Trinity was quietly dangerous, with the ability to destroy lives, and Laila had no idea what she’d do if she ever caught her.

  That was how Laila found herself standing on the sidewalk outside of Trinity’s squatty Portland style home in this quiet Rancho Verde neighborhood. She’d been there, leaned up against a stop sign, for at least twenty minutes. No one had gone in or out of the house, and no lights were visible from this vantage point. It was possible that Trinity wasn’t home, but that seemed unlikely given her work schedule at Archer.

  Her phone buzzed, alerting her to a text message. It was from Sia.

  Gabe asked about you. I gave him your number. You’re welcome.

  She texted back, unsure who Gabe was or why he needed her number.

  Gabe? WTF Sia.

  Moments later, her phone buzzed twice, one right after the other. The first message was from an unknown number. The other from Sia.

  Gabe! The hottie in the pool at my engagement party. You asked about him. Recently single. Workaholic. Looks smokin’ in a Speedo. How can you possibly forget about that?

  The other message, the unknown number, was presumably Gabe. Laila ignored it for a moment.

  Working!!!!!!!

  After she hit send, she flipped over to the other new message.

  Are you stalking me, Ms Hollister?

  That got her attention. Laila straightened up and glanced around. Nothing had changed. Before she could respond, another message from the same number came through.

  Should I call the police and report you for lurking? Or would you like to come inside?

  As soon as Laila finished reading, the front door to Trinity’s house opened. Trinity stepped out onto the porch and smiled at Laila. Her head was tilted to one side, and her dark braids flowed down over her shoulders, red highlights shining in the early morning light.

  Laila stared at her for a moment, considering. How long had Trinity known she was here? How long had she waited to send the message and invite her inside? She was toying with Laila again, and her lack of control over the situation had Laila a little spun. She was used to seeing certain things with laser clarity. Human nuance, no, but clear actions on paper, yes. In this scenario, Trinity held all of the advantages. Laila was stepping into her world, guard down and flat-footed. It didn’t feel good.

  She squared up her shoulders and set her phone to silent. The buzz of another text message would distract her, and with someone like Trinity, Laila couldn’t afford unnecessary distraction.

  While Laila dithered, Trinity continued to smile. She arched one eyebrow and gestured for Trinity to join her. With her hand outstretched, she was like a siren calling to a sailor in the fog-filled early morning, and Laila was helpless against her pull.

  Trinity turned and re-entered the house. The door remained open, and Laila finally found her senses. She’d wanted to talk to Trinity again since they had met at Open Doors. Why was she hesitating now, when an invitation had clearly been issued?

  She walked swiftly from her place at the curb, across Trinity’s brick walk, and up the few steps to the porch. At the doorway, she hesitated to give her eyes a chance to adjust. The interior of Trinity’s house wasn’t as dark as it looked from the exterior. The sun cast a wide swath of light across the living room. With a quick, fortifying breath, Laila stepped inside.

  “Close the door, would you?” Trinity’s voice came from some undetermined part of the house.

  Laila complied and then said, “Where are you?”

  “Follow the hall.”

  There was a short hall on Laila’s right, just past a set of stairs. She moved in that direction and found Trinity in the first open door she came to. She sat at a computer station with a headset around her neck.

  “Hi, Laila.” She spoke simply, all pretense and teasing gone from her tone. It reminded Laila of the one genuine moment of their previous con
versation, when Trinity had said she didn’t think Laila was rude. Like this, Trinity was almost warm.

  Laila stood awkwardly in the open door. She shifted her weight and said, “Hello.”

  “Come in.” Trinity gestured to a chair sat opposite her, covered with a stack of magazines, including Popular Mechanics, Code, and Maxim. “Those can go on the floor.”

  There were several other similar stacks nearby, and Laila carefully transferred the magazines. She didn’t know why, but it was important to not disturb Trinity’s home more than necessary.

  “Thanks.” She sat on the edge of the seat, just as awkward and uncomfortable as she had been standing.

  Trinity nodded. “It took you longer than I expected.”

  Laila blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I thought you’d be here a week ago, banging down my door.”

  “I wanted to, but that’s hard to justify without proof.”

  “You have proof now?” Trinity looked amused, interested, but not worried.

  “No.” Laila shook her head.

  “You decided to come shake the tree and see what falls out?”

  “No, not that. I know nothing will fall. It would have by now if it was going to.” Laila stretched out the metaphor Trinity used, but it got twisted up between her mind and her mouth, and she wasn’t sure if it made any sense at all. “I mean, you’re too good for that.”

  Trinity stared at her, her expression impassive. “Why are you here, Laila?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Trinity quirked an eyebrow. “Would you like something to drink?” As she spoke, she twirled in her chair, opened a dorm-room sized refrigerator, and pulled out a bottle of fizzy water. She held it out to Laila with a one-sided smile.

  “Sure. Thanks.” Laila started to get up, but Trinity motioned for her to stay put. She tossed the drink, and Laila caught it easily.

  For something to do, Laila twisted the top off and took a long drink. After she’d swallowed, it clicked that it was the brand she usually bought, IZZE. She looked at the bottle, with its simple, almost retro logo, an idea taking root at the back of her brain. She shifted her focus to Trinity.

  “That’s your brand, right?” Trinity asked, that amused lilt that Laila couldn’t quite read coloring her tone again.

  “How did you…”

  “You can learn all sorts of stuff on the Internet.”

  “You looked me up?” The realization hit Laila like a wall.

  “Seems only fair, doesn’t it?” Trinity asked mildly.

  “Wow.” Laila stood, drawn inexplicably nearer to Trinity. “What else did you learn?”

  “Not much.” Trinity clicked a few buttons on her computer and turned the screen to give Laila a better view. A slideshow popped up, featuring details from Laila’s life.

  The first photo showed an exterior view of Hollister Investigations. It was located downtown in an old multi-level warehouse that had been converted to office space during a gentrification initiative several years ago. They’d updated and modernized some aspects of the building and left others alone. The result was an eclectic mix of technology that gave the location a funky, hip vibe.

  Next came a picture of Laila, standing in the lobby. She was staring at the old-school elevator with the metal fencing that covered the opening when the elevator was in use elsewhere. Presumably, it was to keep people from falling down the shaft. In Laila’s opinion, anyone dumb enough to walk into an open elevator shaft deserved to fall down it. That was natural selection at work in the modern era.

  There was a photo of Laila and Sia entering a dress boutique. Sia had that unnatural glow that was associated with brides-to-be. Laila looked sulky and suspicious. The window of the shop featured vintage wedding dresses that made Laila feel constricted and choked just from looking at them.

  After the fifth or sixth photo—Laila in her apartment, running on her treadmill wearing only a sports bra and really short shorts, sweat dripping from her forehead—she’d had enough. “You can stop now.”

  Trinity hit a button and the slideshow dissolved from the screen.

  “Where did you get those?”

  “I didn’t take them, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “No, I just…” She shook her head. “I didn’t realize exactly how good you are.”

  Trinity curled her upper lip in a mild sneer. She waved her hand dismissively. “That was nothing.”

  “What else can you do?” Laila leaned on the desk, excited.

  Trinity shrugged. “Anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “Yeah.” Trinity nodded, her smile a little smug.

  “Prove it.”

  Trinity’s fingers flew over her keyboard. In seconds, window after window opened on her monitor, each with a new layer of information about Laila, including a copy of the lease for Hollister Investigations, Laila’s bank balance, and her movie rental history from Amazon Prime, including some porn titles that she’d rather forget about.

  An idea swelled in Laila’s mind, brilliant and bright and impossible to ignore. Without pausing to consider it, she blurted, “Come to work for me.”

  The words, once spoken aloud, buzzed in the air, taking on a life of their own.

  Trinity stopped typing and stared at Laila. “You’re kidding.”

  “I don’t do kidding.” Being able to joke with someone required a level of emotional nuance that she was simply incapable of.

  “Then you’ve clearly lost your mind.”

  Laila’s mind raced, calculating the angles and the implications of what she’d said. All points led back to the same place. “I’m serious. This is a legitimate proposal.”

  Trinity melted back into her chair, a salacious grin on her face. “Is it now? Tell me all the lurid details.”

  Laila’s face flushed with heat. Fuck. Trinity made her blush. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that. “No, not like that.” She sputtered indignantly, and Trinity’s smile grew.

  Before Laila could continue, Trinity held up one finger and sat upright, the picture of professionalism. She tapped a button on her keyboard as she slipped her headphones into place.

  “Hi, Vonnie,” Trinity greeted her caller and then paused, presumably listening. After a moment she said, “That’s great. Can I call you back in a minute? I’m with someone.” Then with a genuine smile and a nod, Trinity tapped her keyboard again and removed her headset completely. She set it on the desk in front of her.

  Laila licked her lips. “You’re good,” she said, trying to get through this before Trinity could twist her up again. “I mean, you’re really good. My guy couldn’t even come close to tracing your work. And what you just did there…” Laila shook her head. She didn’t have the right words to describe it.

  “Laila, is this a ham-fisted attempt to tease a confession out of me? Because, I gotta tell you, it’s not going to work.”

  “No. I’m done trying to link you to my investigation at Archer. That file is officially closed as of three this afternoon.”

  “Your uncle accepted that?”

  Trinity’s reference to Samar as her uncle was another example of how deeply she’d looked into Laila. Then again, it had probably taken Trinity longer to boot up her computer than it did for her to find that information.

  “Yes. I assured him that we’ve rooted out all sources of the losses and that they won’t reappear.”

  “Did you?”

  Laila shrugged. “You know we didn’t. But if this meeting goes well, you’ll do it for me.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You come to work for me, for Hollister Investigations. Put yourself on the right side of the law for a change.”

  The impenetrable, unreadable veil covered Trinity’s face again, her expression giving away nothing. Reading facial cues and body language was difficult for Laila, but she knew when someone was shutting down.

  “Laws are arbitrary rules created by powerful men to suit their
own needs. They rarely match up with what’s right.”

  That was interesting. Laila liked rules. They were clear and concise. Even when they were convoluted, they still made sense. They provided her with a set of parameters to work in. “I…” She paused. She needed to get this right.

  After a deep breath, she tried again, this time taking a different tack. “I suck at people. They don’t say what they really mean, and they get mad when I do. They are confusing and frustrating, and I just don’t think the way they do. Rules and laws make my life livable. They are the lines on the road that you stay between when driving. I’ve never thought of them as anything other than helpful.”

  “Laws are stupid. You are better than that.”

  “Can you give me an example?”

  “I can give you thousands.”

  For the next ten minutes, Trinity spoke without stopping. She talked about rape victims, immigration, banking practices, taxation for corporations, the middle class, voters’ rights… She was passionate and convincing, and Laila’s head spun with the barrage of information. When Trinity finished, she sat back with a huff. Her eyes flashed in challenge, and Laila was awed.

  “This is exactly why you need to come work for me. We’re really good at what we do. The best, really. You’ve done your research; you know it’s true. With you, we’d be even better, completely unparalleled. I doubt this makes a difference, but we offer an excellent benefits package, and I’ll double what Archer pays you.”

  After a long pause, Trinity said, “Why?”

  “Why?” Stupidly, Laila was unprepared for that question. It never occurred to her that she’d have to explain why Hollister was awesome.

  “Why would I want to give up what I have to work for your goodie two shoes investigation firm?”

  “This job at Archer isn’t the norm. That was a favor to Uncle Samar. We help people, Trinity. Real people with real problems.”

  “Go on.”

  “We had a client whose husband hid all their assets overseas and then left her. She went from the penthouse to welfare. We helped her expose her ex.”