“Another post from the stalker.”
“Really?” She left her laptop and took up her place over his shoulder again.
He tilted his monitor upright and watched the play of emotions across her face. “You don’t find it funny?”
“I suppose.” A tiny frown had wedged itself between her brows. “It’s just so strange. What kind of mind comes up with these types of ideas? What kind of person would terrorize a whole company with this stuff?”
He whistled. “That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. Leah’s the human resources manager and it’s my understanding she has a background in psychotherapy. I know Wilhemina has been consulting with her a lot and if there was an easy answer, I’m sure they would have nabbed the culprit already.”
“You’re a people expert, Rex. What do you think?”
Though her expression never changed, she suddenly radiated an intensity Rex couldn’t miss. His answer meant something, although for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what.
Leaning back in his chair, he folded his arms across his chest. “A pervert might get a thrill from this sort of thing, sending the posts and watching the fallout.”
“Do you think that’s what’s happening here?”
“No.”
“You sound convinced.”
He shrugged. “I’ve gotten my fair share of these e-mails. Pulling something like this for any length of time involves a good bit of computer expertise and even more risk. At the very least our stalker will lose his, or her, job. Perhaps even face prosecution. I don’t see anyone doing this for a thrill. Whoever’s sending these posts has some other reason.”
She eyed him with a question in her eyes. “Really? Like what?”
“I don’t have a clue. But when I think of all the files that forward from the various computers with each of these posts, cluttering up the network and peoples’ in-boxes, I can’t help but wonder if someone isn’t trying to cover up something.” He shifted his gaze to the computer monitor, thinking about all the work stored on his system. He rented Web storage and obsessively backed up his files just in case his system crashed. His data couldn’t be easily replaced.
“Have you looked at any of those posts, Rex? I glanced at a few and there was all kinds of stuff. Memos to research and development. Production schedules. Inventory logs. Even someone’s request to accounting to be paid for a personal day because he needed a day off from the Sensuous Collection.”
“I looked at a few to begin with but now I just click Send. I don’t have time.”
Nodding, April returned to her laptop and slid it across the bar to work. “Wilhemina said this has been going on for weeks, but it must be really hush-hush because we hadn’t heard a thing about it in my office. What do you think of the way she’s handling the situation?”
That was a loaded question and Rex wasn’t exactly sure what to say. On the one hand, he didn’t mind sharing his opinion because he trusted April, but on the other, she did work for the company. Given her concerns about her job performance, he didn’t want to raise doubts about the integrity of her upper management. He decided on honesty.
“I don’t understand what the problem is. I’m no computer guru but it seems to me if someone is sending something over the network there should be a record somewhere. I realize it’s impractical to monitor every transmission but impractical shouldn’t mean impossible.”
He cleared his in-box then closed the e-mail program. “This company isn’t some mom-and-pop business without resources and Wilhemina doesn’t strike me as having a lot of patience for mysteries. She’s a sharp businesswoman.”
April tapped out a quick series of keystrokes. “What do you think the problem is?”
“I get the impression that there’s more to this situation than she’s letting on. I could be wrong, but I just get that feeling.”
His answer seemed to content April and they fell back into silence again. Opening his business e-mail program, he scrolled through his in-box, prioritizing as he went. Bingo. There was a post from Harold. He opened it.
Good to hear from you, Rex. I’ll be in the office late catching up from my trip. Give a call or log on to my private chat room and we’ll talk about EHS.
He glanced over at April and decided a phone call was out of the question. Logging on to the Internet, he maneuvered to the research foundation’s chat area, instead.
Harold was as good as his word. He responded instantly to Rex’s greeting. His message popped up on the screen:
Have you gotten that Ph.D. in massage therapy yet?
Rex smiled, envisioning the debonair director, a man in his mid-sixties who walked between the worlds of research science and business with an understanding of both that Rex admired. Harold Snyder was most at home in his lab but he understood what it took to operate a large research foundation, to be at the whim of federal grants and private funding. He wore a business suit just as comfortably as a lab coat.
They exchanged pleasantries and then Rex got straight to the point.
I suspect my assistant is suffering from EHS. I’ve been researching online and not coming up with much information.
Glancing up at April to make sure she was occupied with her own work, he found her frowning down at her laptop screen, not paying attention to him at all. Good. He fixed his gaze on his monitor as Harold’s reply appeared.
No surprise. There’s not much information out there. This foundation is the leading source of research analysis on the topic and as you know, we’re a private institution. Tell me more about her specific symptoms. Maybe I can help with a diagnosis.
Rex went on to describe the way sparks flew whenever April first touched bare skin, her unique working arrangement and her exhaustive energy level.
Harold replied by explaining the EHS basics.
Humans are dependent on the electrical and magnetic forces of nature. Electrostatic electricity is believed to be relatively harmless, but when it accumulates in a body, it can cause a wide range of reactions, from irritability, clumsiness, fatigue or mania in people whose systems overreact to this electricity.
We deal with the effects of electricity constantly. Think about electronic-equipment processing plants. Operators on assembly lines wear antistatic wrist straps. Computer techs ground themselves before working on systems. When you understand this, you won’t find it so strange for that balance to be occasionally off in a human body. We haven’t yet determined which field—the electric, magnetic or electrostatic—is most severe in producing adverse biological effects, but our observations so far lead me to believe that all three can have subtle, yet profound effects on an individual’s health. Think of EHS as an allergy.
An allergy perhaps, but one that could be treated in a world that relied on electricity?
What can offset the symptoms?
To Rex’s profound good fortune, Harold proved more knowledgeable on the subject than he’d had the right to hope.
The solution could be as simple as moving the sufferer away from the source of electricity—or to a comfortable distance as Harold suspected April had done with her computer system.
There were also detection devices available like gauss meters and electric field detectors to test for electromagnetic radiation that triggered symptoms in EHS sufferers.
Demand switches were another type of device that proved helpful at controlling symptoms. This switch could be installed at the meter board in a sufferer’s home to control the supply of electricity to the various rooms.
Aligning the body’s magnetic fields was another area currently being studied. Though this research was still in the early phases and Harold warned against crackpots out to make a buck by selling expensive mattresses and jewelry that may or may not have an effect, he believed there was merit in their findings so far.
We deal with a reputable firm that makes electrostatic devices for electrical circuitry manufacturers. I’ll have my assistant forward the information to you. Get in touch with this guy
and tell him I sent you. But the place to start is to ascertain your assistant’s symptoms and how severely she’s reacting. Bring her to the foundation the next time you’re in Phoenix. We have the equipment to test her specific sensitivities. You’ll be able to proceed from there.
Rex agreed and was already mentally calculating how he could rearrange their schedule to allow for a few extra days during their Phoenix run.
After thanking Harold and agreeing to take him up on his offer, Rex logged off the chat and sat back in his chair to absorb everything he’d just learned.
“April, what happens when you sit in front of your computer?” he asked.
She shot him an absent glance, jiggled the mouse impatiently. “I try not to.”
“But when you do.”
She shrugged. “I sort of melt into the chair. Within an hour my muscles ache and my head gets foggy and I can’t think.”
“Getting up and moving around doesn’t help?” He already suspected the answer.
“Not enough to offset the effects once they start. If I stand, I don’t have any problems. I feel great. So I stand.”
Which confirmed Harold’s suspicions about distance and left Rex debating his best approach to convincing April to explore her unique symptoms.
And letting him be with her when she did.
To: J.P. Mooney (mailto:[email protected])
Date: 18 Mar 2003 23:34:01-0000
Subject: Mission Accomplished
Dear Brother-in-law,
I’ve listened to Paula complain about you working seven days a week for so long that I’m just popping online on the chance that you’ll be in for a few hours in the morning while I’ll be sleeping late to recover from the effects of too many rich meals. Don’t bother asking Paula to call and interrogate me because I’m unplugging the phone.
I just returned from Florida and I do wish you could have seen April. You would have been amazed and so proud. She works behind the scenes while Rex conducts his focus groups, researching on her computer—that crazy setup traveled with her!—and running interference with the local marketing researchers. She’s flying, John! I don’t know what else to say. She is more self-assured than I’ve ever seen her and handles herself so beautifully that I’m convinced we did the best thing by nudging her out of the nest.
I admit I was wrong about one thing, though. I told you that Rex would have her eating out of his hand but it appears to be the other way around. ;-) The man is completely enchanted by her. Even my marketing director who made the trip with me noticed how amazing these two are together.
That’s the good news. Now for the not-so-good news. My security chief is still going through the motions and coming up with lots of possibilities and nothing concrete. I know you said an investigation of this size takes time, but I don’t have much. April has given the board Rex’s nighttime computer excursions and they’ve latched on to this like a dog with a bone.
They’ve used this time that I’ve been away to brainstorm and have called a meeting for the crack of dawn on Monday, where I’m sure they’ll try to strong-arm me into bringing in another independent consultant. I intend to stall, but I don’t know how much longer that particular tactic will work. The natives are getting restless but I have to admit that this two-day break from the madness was welcomed even if it did jeopardize my position.
This trip also enabled me to spend some quality time with my marketing director and pick his brain about what’s going on between him and my network administrator. I wanted to know if their involvement predated my arrival or was a result of sex on the brain. Unfortunately, I’m still not sure, but Charles’s attitude about Jacqui surprised me. He was very free with his opinions about all the executive staff, most of whom he respects—even my VP of sales, who by his own admission gets under his skin. He wasn’t very complimentary about Jacqui, though. I even sensed a little hostility.
I know what you would say, John, with your suspicious mind, and I agree. Charles may very well be blowing smoke to throw me off the scent. I can’t say for sure, but I did consider it, which proves that your private-eye skills are rubbing off on me.
Wil, who wants all your fingers crossed on Monday morning
John reached for his coffee mug with a smile, contemplating Wilhemina’s latest update. Her private-eye skills? She wished. She was a sharp cookie but she had a long way to go before he’d hire her. To her credit though, she had nailed several things cold. Paula wasn’t happy that he’d gotten up early this Saturday morning to come into the office and this wasn’t the first time in thirty-five years that she’d voiced her opinion.
Too, he would have cautioned Wilhemina to look past her marketing director’s obvious reaction to her questioning. She’d taken on a bizarre situation with this new company of hers and couldn’t take anything for granted—which, according to her had been the whole point of taking the job.
And he was feeling much better about April. About work, anyway. He refused to speculate on what she and Holt might or might not be developing in that department. He refused to be sucked into agonizing about what she was doing with this guy. That was Paula’s department. He hadn’t crossed the line with his own daughters and in all the ways that counted, April was his daughter, too.
If Holt could get her to enjoy working out from behind the computer then John owed him one. It was that simple. He just wanted to see April happy.
He knew she’d be happy if he would allow her to start investigating and after reading this post, he was tempted. She was top-of-the-line on the computer and he didn’t doubt that she could figure out exactly what was going on—both with Holt and the network stalker.
But according to this update, April was conducting herself very well in the field. She was proving herself very effective at inside surveillance and as far as John was concerned that was much more important than giving her a reason to get back behind the computer again. She needed to build her confidence and he didn’t want to pile too much on her shoulders.
Wilhemina hadn’t asked him to investigate anyway. She was giving her people a chance to deal with the situation and he understood why. As the new kid on the block, she had an opportunity to see what they were made of. She’d covered her ass by putting April in place and he knew his sister-in-law too well to think she’d miss the signs of a sinking ship.
He’d wait to see what happened at her meeting Monday morning. If things didn’t go well, he’d reevaluate. But John didn’t think he’d need to. Wilhemina didn’t need April’s help or his crossed fingers to bully that board into what she wanted.
13
APRIL’S FIRST CLUE that Saint Patrick’s Day was a well-loved holiday in Chicago came while disembarking the plane. In the blink of an eye, the world transformed from the whitewashed, serviceable decor of an airplane interior to a lush landscape of green. And that was just at the gate.
“Wow. Is there some sort of mandatory dress code to be in this city today?”
Rex gazed down at her, the warmth in those deep dark eyes winning a tingly reaction no matter how hard she tried to control herself. “I can’t believe you don’t own anything green.”
“It’s a wretched color on me.”
His smile deepened. “I find it hard to believe you’d look wretched in anything when you look so good in nothing.”
“Rex!” she said, not believing the man would say that within earshot of an elderly couple.
She didn’t have a chance to dwell on whether or not he’d been overheard because they no sooner stepped into the terminal when a small crowd rushed them and she didn’t need introductions to recognize the Holt family. Rex was the spitting image of his father, sans the silver hair and bright blue eyes.
The group cornered them between the gate and the attendant’s desk, greeting them noisily, introducing themselves and pressing in to hug Rex as if he was the president arriving for a national holiday.
April shook hands and smiled a lot, with a complete sense of unreality. Somehow seei
ng Rex’s family—his dad, mom, sisters, brothers-in-law and nieces and nephews—made him seem more real than he’d been when she’d had him all to herself.
Until this very second, Rex had been the man who could coax miracle reactions from her body, the man who could make her forget her common sense and long for the impossible. He’d been almost too good to be true, a figment of her imagination. Until now when she saw how very real he was.
He had a whole family who loved him.
He introduced her to everyone and as all his sisters, with the exception of Betsy, were married, she had her hands full sorting out which husband belonged to which sister.
“So what warranted the welcome reception today?” he asked while greeting the cluster of small children who gathered around his knees to beg for lollipops.
Uncle Rex didn’t disappoint. He produced a handful of the treats from his briefcase, the cheek-filling kind with bubble gum in the middle, and earned squeals of appreciation from the little ones and scowls from his sisters.
“No, you may not open that now, Carson,” Theresa, his second-to-youngest sister, told her son.
Juliet held the distinction of being the oldest sister and scowled as if she’d had a lot of practice. “I’m sending your nephews in the car with you, Uncle Rex.”
He just laughed.
“Of course we’d come welcome your plane,” his mom said. “You brought home a friend.”
Gina Holt was a beautiful woman whose youthful olive skin made her appear more like a sister to her daughters than a mother. She clearly adored her only son and held him at arm’s length to check him out before she hugged him. “I’m so glad you made it home for the holiday.”
“And with a woman friend,” Betsy said.
Gina shot her youngest a dark glance then hugged April as if she’d been missed as much as Rex.
“You’re lucky your grandparents didn’t show up.” His father laughed. “They’d be here if Grandpa didn’t insist on hearing the Rovers practice this morning, trust me.”
Between The Sheets Page 17
