The CEO Came DOA

by Heather Haven

  That left the board members, not so easy to corral. I’d have Richard and his gang do a background check on each before I tackled the board in person. Which led me to thinking about what my brother had found out about the CFO and CTO. I’d know more at our afternoon meeting.

  * * * *

  I arrived at the entrance to the Collier compound around eleven-fifteen. A wide asphalt drive served as roadway to the private and heavily guarded five-acre complex.

  The day was developing into a windy and moist one, where an umbrella did you no good at all. Even a hat was useless against the unpleasant gusts arising when least expected. My hair was one big ball of frizz, despite the use of every hair product known to man.

  I took my foot off the accelerator and tapped the brake repeatedly, inching my way through the hoards of television reporters milling around the fifteen-foot high wrought iron gate. I’ve never met a reporter yet who was bothered by inclement weather; job requirement.

  On each side of the driveway vans holding their equipment sat ready to transmit anything the reporters deemed newsworthy. Hopefully, I’d refrain from running over one of them so the transmission wouldn’t be about me.

  A pushy woman from KTFO banged on my window incessantly, microphone in hand. I ignored her and continued to crawl toward the small gatehouse where two uniformed guards waited. I wondered how I would be able to roll down the window to let them know who I was without having Her Pushiness shove the mic in my face.

  I needn’t have worried. The guards must have been on the lookout for me, because one beefy looking guard bounded out of the gatehouse attached to a large and snarling German shepherd. Wagging his tail at about a hundred miles an hour, I sensed a canine love of job that would have sent me packing if he was coming after me. Fortunately, he wasn’t, but headed straight for Her Pushiness. She went packing big time.

  Satisfied with a job well done, the dog barked his head off at the remaining ring of reporters. After spraying them with his saliva – good boy – they, too, withdrew in a hurry to the safety of their designated vans. With a smile on my face, I pulled up to the gatehouse and rolled down my window. The second pumped up guard wearing a sidearm – but no dog - came out. He stuck his head in the window.

  “Identification, please.”

  I showed my ID and the guard scrutinized it with great care.

  “Keep it to under ten miles an hour, please, Ms. Alvarez.”

  He touched his cap in a slight salute and hit a remote clicker twice. The front gate slowly opened. One of the reporters behind me must have stepped out of his van, because the dog started his snarling, snapping, and barking routine, barely controlled by the first guard. The second guard gestured for me to drive through. I edged forward feeling like I was going into a top-secret military base instead of the home of a whackadoodle techie who made good.

  I followed the drive speckled with Royal Palm trees for probably half a mile. On the way a peacock took his time crossing the road while displaying gorgeous fan-shaped tail feathers. Off to the side, several flamingos and ducks frolicked in a large pond fed by a dancing waterfall.

  Another uniformed man, dressed more like a custodian or groundskeeper, followed wild Canada geese around with a rake and shovel cleaning up after them. He looked up when he heard my car and gave me a friendly wave. I waved back feeling like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.

  “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” I muttered.

  I swung around to the end of the drive. There stood a three-story glass and cement-colored structure, vaguely reminiscent of Frank Lloyd Wright’s work. Balcony railings dripped with green foliage. Behind them, sliding glass doors or plate glass windows offset what could have been an austere building. Large and imposing, it managed to look light and airy even in the gloom of a wintry California day.

  A smiling but anxious Katie was waiting for me at the top of the front entrance’s polished cement steps. I got out of the car and gave the façade another once over.

  “Wow,” was all I could say. “This is some place.”

  “That’s what most people say when they first come here. And the entire structure inside and out is built from cement. Wait ‘til you see.”

  Katie continued to smile, but I could see it was an effort. Eyes red from crying, she carried an icepack in one hand. She opened one of the two front doors adorned with white and silver Christmas wreaths, and stepped aside.

  Unbuttoning my coat, I took a few steps inside then froze in place. Katie followed me and reached out a hand for my coat, all the while watching my reaction to the billionaire’s home.

  Before me was the grandest three-story high living room I’ve ever seen. The ninety foot or more square room was decorated with a few select larger-than-life pieces. Masterfully arranged, your eye was drawn from the entrance to the other side, where a chrome and glass fireplace climbed to the top of the high ceiling. To the right of the fireplace a majestic white Christmas tree, decorated with bronze, silver, and crystal ornaments sparkled under pin spots of lighting.

  A hand-blown glass Chihuly chandelier, in shades of yellow and orange, hung mid-center of the room. Cascading down from the ceiling at nearly twenty feet, it was nearly half again as wide. It was the largest chandelier of Chihuly’s I’d ever seen, and I’m including his museum works. I have one of his small lamps. I cancelled a vacation to New York City to buy it.

  My eyes went to the perimeter glass wall. At the base, an outside pond continued into the living room. Winding its way inside, the water lapped at stone edgings. On the other side of the glass, the tropical rainforest I’d heard about shimmered in lush shades of green. Encased in a ceilinged structure that reached up to the sky, ferns, plants, and mature trees seemed to thrive. Colorful and exotic birds and flowers dotted the panorama making it more dreamlike than real. And what a contrast to the weather outside.

  Several Lucite or Plexiglas chairs stood by matching tables in conversational patterns. They encouraged you to sit down, relax, and admire the amazing scene for the living work of art it was. I turned to Katie.

  “Did David Collier make the furniture? I understand he worked in the art form. And what is it? Lucite or Plexiglas?”

  “Both names are applicable, Lucite or Plexiglas. It just means a higher quality of acrylic. And yes, David made those. It was his hobby. He has…had…a workshop in back with all the latest equipment, and an assistant to help him. He did the acrylic furniture throughout the house. He felt it was superior to glass in its lack of breakage. Another reason is that it weighs half as much as glass and can be cut and glued more easily, allowing more possibilities in design.”

  She paused and let out a small laugh. “I sound like an ad, I know, but he often talked of nothing else but his Plexiglas projects and computer chips.” Katie paused again without the laugh. “I’ll miss that.”

  “Was he working on a project now?”

  “He was always working on one thing or another in his spare time, but I don’t remember him mentioning any specific project.” She looked past me to the rainforest. “He and his assistant made all the Plexiglas in front of the rainforest. It may look like glass, but it’s not. The same with the floor. It’s a highly polished, textured cement, not granite.”

  “Really? So this is a house where nothing is as it seems.”

  “Well, I guess you could say that, Lee. It sounds a little more sinister than I like.”

  I smiled at her. “Then we won’t say it.”

  I took the two steps down into the living room, my heels echoing on the hard surface of the floor. I turned back to Katie as she pressed the small icepack against first one eye and then the other. When she noticed me noticing her, she gave out a small chuckle.

  “I didn’t have any cucumbers and I don’t like tea.” Katie waved the pack. “So this is it.”

  “Ice is best, anyway.” I paused. “Sorry for your loss.”

  She looked down and nodded. “Skye is waiting for you in David’s library. She got home fro
m school about ten minutes ago and went directly in there.”

  “I was surprised when you told me she went to school today,” I said, brushing my hands off into the pond. Two white and gold Koi came scurrying, but left disappointed.

  Seemingly eager to talk about something other than D. H. Collier’s death, Katie rushed on. “She’s working with three other students on a light refraction element for fly fishing. If it succeeds, you wouldn’t need any real lures on the end of your line. You could digitally change the size, shape, and color to whatever attracts the specific fish you’re trying to catch.”

  “Does she take after her father in that?”

  “She does, but Skye’s more of a team player. The team is hoping to win this year’s competition. She didn’t want to let them down. The deadline is next week.” She moved to the other side of the living room toward a hallway. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you where David’s office is.”

  I followed, observing her as I trailed behind. Today she wore a mustard-colored dress, too baggy and long. Mustard is a hard color to wear and not for the majority of us. I wouldn’t be caught dead in it, myself. But then I have been trained since birth by a maternal fashionista to look on that sort of thing as a disregard of one’s duty to the world at large. From bad to worse, on Katie’s feet a pair of hideous soft-soled UGGs moved silently atop the hard surfaced floor. I’d never be caught dead in a pair of UGGs, either. Oh gawd, I am my mother’s daughter.

  “I hope you don’t mind.” Katie threw the words over her shoulder, bringing me out of my usual mental wanderings. “But I’m going to leave you two alone. Skye wants to talk to you without me present.”

  In the adjacent hallway the cement wall color changed to off-white, done in an almost marbleized effect. The floors remained the same as the living room’s, polished to a rich, gleaming grey. I usually hate the color grey as witnessed by D. I.’s color palette, but this was beautifully alive. I’ve read the use of cement today is so sophisticated it can be made to look like any stone or texture desired. I had to believe it; I saw it with my own eyes.

  The hall was lit by what had to be indirect lighting, bathing the walls and floor in a soft glow. It looked natural, but I didn’t see a window anywhere.

  After many yards, we came to a large circular area. The outer, curved ‘u’ shaped glass wall displayed another spectacular view of the rainforest. The inner right of the circle allowed you to either continue walking down the hall or veer off in one of two separate directions.

  Katie stopped and turned around to me. “I know it seems confusing, but it’s really quite simple to navigate. This hall continues to David’s office, the library, and further on to the indoor/outdoor pool and tennis courts. The middle hall goes to a staircase, which leads up to the bedrooms; there are eight of them. The far right hall angles back to the kitchen and dining room then out to the garage where the cars are kept.”

  “Cars? How many did Collier have?”

  “Nine. He didn’t drive them so much as he liked to collect them. He left the driving and maintenance up to Marty. The latest addition is a Tesla. See that first door ahead on the left?”

  I nodded and she went on.

  “That’s David’s office. His has – had - a magnificent view of the rainforest. He sometimes went out and fed the birds and small animals. He loved the forest. He spent as much time in it as he could.”

  Her voice sounded so sad, her face looked so pained; I knew instantly theirs was more than an employee/employer relationship. Katie had been in love with D. H. Collier. I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it before.

  Of all the inventions of humans, the computer is going to rank

  near or at the top as history unfolds and we look back. It is the

  most awesome tool that we have ever invented. I feel incredibly

  lucky to be at exactly the right place in Silicon Valley, at exactly

  the right time, historically, where this invention has taken form.

  Steve Jobs

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I knocked on a smooth, faux marble door without a knob. It slid open silent and fast, reminding me of futuristic sci-fi movies. I stepped inside a huge angular room with eighteen-foot ceilings and recessed lighting. Three grey-black walls showcased shelves filled with books, older computers, monitors, and TV screens from every era displayed almost like a museum. Maps of the world in various sizes, antique and modern, hung from dowels in between. On the wall opposite a mammoth desk was a line of up-to-date monitors, now turned off.

  The fourth wall was glass or Plexiglas, showing another outstanding view of the lush rainforest. In one corner a door gave access to the outside. I’d been wondering how anyone got out there from the house.

  Inside the forest, a gentle rain began to fall. I heard nothing, but lavender and white orchids, green-grey ferns, and small limbs of trees, bobbed in tempo with the soft droplets of water. A small blue and yellow bird fluttered across the landscape. Unreal.

  “Daddy has it rain every hour on the half hour for ten minutes.”

  I turned to the sound of Skye’s voice. The high back chair spun around to reveal the girl. The enormous desk chair with its padded arms and neck rest, made her look small and very, very young. Her voice droned on without any inflection.

  “Computerized days and nights mimic a real rainforest to the minute. Sometimes I like to hear the rain falling.” She reached out and touched a switch on the desk. The soothing sound of a soft rain filled the room.

  “It’s also kept at a constant temperature of eighty degrees Fahrenheit, with an eighty percent humidity level. It comprises a total of two acres and costs three thousand dollars a day to maintain. That’s not including the costs of the maintenance crew or the vets and scientists who come in twice a month to check on the small animals, birds and butterflies. Ten monitors cover breeding nests and dens. Daddy liked to see how they were doing.”

  Skye pointed to the row of blank monitors across from the desk and flipped another switch on the desktop. The monitors came to life, showing different close up shots of the rainforest.

  “Daddy wanted to bring in predators; have as much of the eco system as he could in there. I asked him not to. I didn’t want to see a snake eating one of those beautiful birds. The world is too filled with violence.” She looked up at me, tearless eyes devoid of any expression. “Don’t you think?”

  I had a momentary urge to tell her of the coroner’s findings on her father; of how he didn’t die from a broken neck or asphyxiation but by chemically altered Scopolamine. But putting aside my promise to Frank, the news might send her over the edge.

  “Skye, have you talked to anyone? A counselor? Someone who can help you through this?”

  My tone was easy, but inside my heart was pounding. Here was a child in the deepest kind of shock. She, in turn, asked a question of her own.

  “Katie said you wanted to look through Daddy’s office for something. What is that?”

  “Not sure until I find it.” My answer was deliberately vague.

  “Then go for it.” Skye jumped up from the chair in one awkward move. She crossed to the glass wall, hands clasped behind her back, staring out into the rainforest, talking all the while.

  “Have you wondered why the Plexiglas doesn’t fog over with all the heat and moisture from in there? It’s not just the glass being double tempered, there are, like, drying elements shooting up from above and below. The air currents help keep the birds from flying into the glass and hurting themselves. Sometimes the mice come up and sniff at it. So cool. Daddy said that if the world keeps going the way it’s going, these private rainforests will be all that are left. This one’s Brazilian.”

  I crossed to the window and stood alongside her. “Skye, did your father have an inventory made of the flora and fauna in the rainforest?”

  “Daddy inventoried everything. Why?”

  “Just looking for a certain tree, so if you could let me see the inventory, it would be great.” />
  “Sure, I can send you a copy.”

  “Thanks.”

  I pivoted away and went back to the desk. Skye turned to watch me, but didn’t move. Her manner was shy.

  “I wish you’d tell me what you’re looking for. Maybe I can help you. Daddy was always losing things, like his keys and wallet. He had his own locating system, chips attached to nearly everything he owned.”

  “Is that similar to ones you can get on the internet? You know, you clap to find?”

  “No.” She let out a mocking laugh. “His are far more sophisticated and much smaller; tied to a satellite. They have no range limitation. He called them a locator chip. He said soon there’ll be all kinds of service chips saving mankind from needless hours spent on mundane things. He believed they’d free up society, much the same as robotics did. Any single function performed by a machine or a living being can be performed by one of these; that’s what he said. We’ll depend on chips for everything one of these days.”

  She pulled back her sweater and pointed to her upper arm. I strained to see a small white dot on the skin.

  “I have one of the Read-Out chips implanted in my arm. It’s, like, more sophisticated than the locator chips. It lets me know if one of my migraines is coming on. I have a lot of those, but now I know when to take the medication beforehand so they’re not so bad.”

  She paused. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I? I can’t seem to help myself. If I just sit around, all I do is think. I hate it.” Her body trembled with her final words.

  “You know, now that I think of it, I could use some help.” I went to the ebony desk and pulled open a drawer at random. “I’m looking for a small black box, about the size of a ring box.”

  She smiled and rallied. “Do you think he chipped it?”

  “He might have. What was inside was worth a lot of money.”

  Once again, Skye didn’t allow space for her size. She rushed to the desk, her body glancing off mine. I tried to back up, but stumbled and fell into the chair. She wheeled around and the surprised look on her face made me laugh. She was contrition itself.