1 Executive Lunch

by Maria E. Schneider

  "Huh?" I turned to find a customer waving at me from the other side of the table.

  "Do you have any more free t-shirts?" he asked.

  "I, uh--" Looking around, I didn't see any shirts. No one had given me free t-shirts to give away. Why did Dan get the best goodies? Remembering what Kathy had said about looking for give-aways, I said, "Let me look in back."

  I scooted back around the partition. Looking through the junk, I spied a hard drive. There was an entire box of them, maybe two or three. I grabbed what I needed. Turbo could have left me at least one instead of giving Dan enough to triple his setup. Stepping back out front I said, "No, sorry, no shirts."

  The guy, dressed in a suit that probably cost him several hundred dollars, looked very disappointed. "You gotta be kidding me! I told my kid I'd bring him one."

  "Have you tried the resort shop? I'm pretty sure they have shirts in there."

  "Those aren't free!" He blinked. "Are they?"

  I rolled my eyes, but managed to direct the look at the floor. "Uh, no. I just thought your kid might like them better."

  He snorted.

  A loud clatter behind me got my attention. I turned, but couldn't see behind the partition. "Turbo?"

  I started to peer around the corner, but then thought better of it. I didn't want to try and explain to Turbo that I had been back there working on replacing my own hard drive. I didn't have time to tell him the story about poor Kathy either--and doing so would only make the case for him that I shouldn't be back there doing my own work.

  Whoever was back there grunted as they lifted something. I scrabbled out the front way to get back to my booth before he came out.

  From a safe distance, I looked back. A few suits were wandering around, coming back from lunch. None were behind the table that was meant to separate the crowds from the demonstrators. I didn't see anyone that looked like Turbo or Bruce. In fact, I didn't see anyone come out from the partitioned area.

  I frowned. Of course, it didn't matter. If Turbo had been back there for some reason, he wasn't likely to show his face to the public. It wasn't part of his job. Whoever was back there was probably like me, just grabbing something they needed for their own station.

  Back at my demo, I got busy replacing the drive. Bending down, the first thing I noticed was my knees. "Oh, no!" The fresh, off-white pants I had just put on had a smear of dust across one side.

  "How's it going, Sedona?" Gary's voice interrupted my dismay.

  I turned to find Gary with two customers. "Oh…fine." I tried for a smile, but probably failed.

  He grabbed some fliers. Leaning closer he confided in a loud whisper, "Don't worry. By three the place will be cleared out."

  I waved, keeping my knees turned away from him.

  When they were gone, I discovered that brushing at my pants only ground the dirt smudges in. Would anyone notice if I gave the presentation from behind the machines? Probably, because I'd look like an idiot.

  By two o'clock, I was so hungry I almost started chewing on my sleeve. With the crowds thinning, I wanted nothing more than food and a hike into the blissful silence of the mountains. Unfortunately, I doubted those with devious purposes would find me if I was out wandering the hills. I kept working until three-thirty when the crowds were down to casual wanderers that looked more lost than interested.

  Letting the machines continue to run their silent demo, I went upstairs and changed out of the ruined pantsuit into a new pair of dress shorts and a polo top. I looked professional enough in case my invisible audience cared.

  I checked on Kathy again, but she wasn't in her room.

  Intent on finding her, being available, and getting food, I went to the hotel restaurant.

  It solved two problems, probably all three. Kathy was there looking a lot perkier than I felt. "Hey Kathy, how are you feeling?"

  She chewed a big mouthful of sandwich and waved me over. A waiter followed me and took my order.

  "I'm good," she said. "Got an ice pack. Had room service take care of my suit. You get them to clean yours?"

  I hadn't thought about having room service do my laundry, but I was going to be short at least one pair of pants if I didn't. "I'm fine, no worries. How is your head?"

  "Couple of aspirin. I laid down for an hour. Got a little queasy and decided I better eat. On the way through Ross stopped me, and I had to help with some clients."

  "Oh no!"

  She nodded and swallowed another bite. "That's the way it goes. I'm okay though. I don't know what I ran into. I'm just glad you were there when I fell."

  I didn't think it prudent to tell her that I hadn't even seen her until I stepped on her. No need to assign my name to any of her bruises. She had probably been lying there a while before I found her. Not that she looked like it now. Her brown hair was back in a professional bob. There wasn't a single crease in her reapplied makeup. Even with a hidden bump on her head, she played up-and-coming better than I ever would. She cared and it showed.

  I sighed and sat up straighter. "I'm going to go for a swim later. Want to join me?"

  "Didn't bring a suit." Her lightly plucked eyebrows came together in a frown.

  "They have some in the shop at the front."

  "Look, Sedona." Her pale brown eyes glanced towards the outside patio where several men were lounging. Almost everyone except Kathy had changed out of their business suits. She cleared her throat and whispered, "You don't want to go around in your swimsuit. Trust me. The guys will talk."

  I stopped chewing. "I wasn't going to tour the place in it, just swim!"

  She shrugged. "You don't want to be seen in it, even under water. They'll talk."

  I didn't bother to tell her it was too late. We finished our dessert out on the patio in relative silence and then went our separate ways.

  Chapter 18

  Tuesday was the same hell, only this time I kept food nearby and didn't skip lunch. By the time the day was over, I was almost used to the schedule. I thought I had things pretty well in hand until the phone rang that evening.

  It was Turbo. He was back in Denton.

  "I thought you were here," I said, surprised.

  "I got a phone call from Sally telling me to come back on Monday. She said something about Strandfrost not wanting to pay my way for the entire week. I wasn't too worried until this morning."

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "I found out they flew Bruce back too. I thought they called me back because someone decided we both didn't have to be there. But then…not having Bruce there…that's really bad."

  "It is?"

  There was a long pause. I didn't know if it was Turbo being Turbo or if he was waiting for my turtle brain to come up with the answer. Finally he sighed, and I knew that I had failed. "You're on an important case. Don't you find it a little suspicious that they flew back your only protection?"

  He probably should have been more concerned that I hadn't even noticed he was gone. Some detective I was. "Uh…when did you leave?"

  "Got the call just before lunch on Monday. Sally had my ticket purchased for the afternoon. Basically once the setup was done, I got sent back."

  "You went back yesterday?" Though I hadn't seen him or Bruce, I hadn't thought much of it. In fact, I had been looking over my shoulder all day, expecting Turbo to scold me for doing something wrong. If anything, I had been trying to avoid him, not find him.

  "Yeah, I ran into Allen right after we finished your setup on Monday. He asked if we had everything done. I said yes, of course. Sally called an hour later and told me I had a flight. I had to go straight to the airport, which is why I didn't get a chance to tell you I was leaving."

  I wasn't sure what to make of the situation, but it was too late to panic. "I guess it's okay that you went back. I've been managing okay."

  "That's what I figured--until yesterday when I found out that Bruce had been sent back too, just a different flight than mine."

  "What difference does that make?"

&
nbsp; "I started asking some questions and verified with Sally that the order for us to come back came from Allen, not Gary."

  Turbo made Allen's very name sound sinister. "But you don't really work for Allen anymore."

  "Exactly. Even if Allen thought it was a waste of money, he should have told you to send us home, not just had Sally arrange it."

  "Allen doesn't know that you're helping with the investigation, right? Or that Bruce is undercover?"

  "Damn right, he isn't supposed to know. But he knows he was caught red-handed bilking Strandfrost. Even though he didn't get arrested, I bet he knows he's being watched."

  "Well, okay. But why would he be suspicious of Bruce? Or you?" Allen didn't act on the ball enough to have gotten suspicious. Then again, he didn't look bright enough to try and cash checks either.

  "Bruce is new. He's the most obvious candidate to be watching him. And there's someone else I bet he thinks is watching him too, and I don't mean me."

  It was a thin hint. "You mean me?"

  "You're a threat to him whether he thinks you're watching or not."

  "I am not--"

  "You've been promoted. You've taken over his people and projects. You're now the competition."

  "Okay fine," I agreed. Chewing on my lip, I had another idea. "Maybe Gary told Allen to call Sally and arrange for you guys to go back. Maybe he thought it looked funny to have you guys at the conference." There weren't any other engineering specialists at the conference unless you counted me, but as a lab rat technician, I had been even lower on the totem poll before my promotion.

  "You need to be more careful."

  He meant I needed to pay more attention. He was probably right, but the plan was for someone to approach me, not for me to go looking for trouble. "I think things are going fine." I ignored the sweat on the hand that held the phone. "Kathy has been giving me tips on where to be and what to do."

  "Maybe you should spend more time with her. You know. Don't eat alone."

  "Turbo, don't be ridiculous! While it's possible someone could shoot me, it's not likely that they'd hit me in this crowd."

  "Just be careful," he reiterated. "I'll see if I can figure out if Allen was sending us back to make sure you didn't have technical help or if he has some idea that Bruce is undercover. I'll be in touch if I learn more before you get back. Gotta go."

  "Okay." We hung up. I pinched the bridge of my nose and went in the bathroom to brush my teeth. There was only a couple of days left anyway. I could probably live through it. Right?

  Chapter 19

  Wednesday went by in a blur. I wanted to ask Kathy how she was doing, but we were both swamped all day. I kept glancing over at Dan's partition too, wondering what deals he was up to. I noticed he didn't spend very much time doing demos. He seemed to reel in customers and then walk off with them. Once he was in motion, I couldn't keep track of him, but his booth was empty a large part of the day.

  Any old customer could walk back behind his table or his partition. I rubbed the back of my head. Something about the bump on Kathy's head bothered me, and not just the fact that it had happened at all.

  Thursday morning, I tried to be extra cautious because it was the last day of the show. No one had so much as suggested I steal a pencil for them. If they were going to make a move, maybe they would do it today.

  Turbo had made me nervous. His ominous tone made me wish I could see Allen's booth from mine. Did he spend as much time doing demos as I did or was he like Dan, drifting around going wherever he pleased, meeting with...unsavory individuals?

  By lunchtime, the crowds were already thinning. Some people had headed home, but the rest of them weren't wasting the last day looking at demos. They were at the pool, the golf course, the mountains.

  I knew I wouldn't be missed at my booth, but instead of changing into shorts right away, I slipped behind the partitions. It wasn't any easier to see than the first time, but I knew where I was going and what to watch for. I placed my feet carefully. I listened.

  Dan was long gone and any voices were muted pieces of conversation.

  I found the boxes of equipment. I walked around two boxes and tried to remember where Kathy was when I found her. It wasn't immediately obvious, but it didn't matter. Nowhere that I looked could I find anything sticking out that was at shoulder or head height.

  The bump on Kathy's head was at the back of her head. Had she hit the partition? The only hard part to the partitions were the supports. They went straight up about ten feet. Pretty hard to run smack into one--probably even harder to hit it hard going backwards. They had some give to them too.

  Of course, I had backed up myself when I heard Dan's voice. Maybe she had backed up for some reason and hit...what? None of the boxes were piled head high and she had been closer to the real wall than the partition frames.

  Maybe she had fallen backwards and hit her head on the way down.

  Maybe I was losing my mind. If someone had been back here, they obviously hadn't been stealing the equipment. The boxes of hard drives were all piled as I had last seen them, next to extra servers and other stuff. In fact, it looked to me like several more boxes of equipment had been added to the pile.

  I took a last look around, but nothing made any more sense than before. Obviously I was just being paranoid.

  It didn't take long to return to my booth. Since I had been behind Dan's area, I knew he was gone. I was sure I should be also. If I started breaking the equipment down...even if Turbo didn't hear about it, it wasn't a good idea. Allen had sent Turbo back. Perhaps it was his way of making sure I stayed in my place--my old one, rather than the new one.

  I wandered around the resort, watching for Kathy. I wasn't sure what I could ask her that would make me feel better. If she had seen anyone else back there, she would have said so.

  Eventually, I drifted outside and found myself at the golf course. I didn't have to play, but that didn't mean that I couldn't make myself available to some creep wanting to steal from a charity.

  I inquired about lessons, but thought I had lost my hearing when the guy told me the prices. At last, I had found some thieves. Maybe not the ones Huntington was after, but certainly candidates. "You want how much for a half hour lesson?"

  "Seventy-five dollars. Normally it's a hundred and fifty, but since you are a guest of the resort, we give you a discount." Mister "TV-dreamboat" smiled smoothly, flashing perfect teeth. He looked to be in his twenties with a blond crew-cut short enough that it had to be real hair. He wore a green resort shirt that made his brown eyes stand out.

  "How many lessons will I need before I can play?"

  "Don't worry," he said, giving me an encouraging up-and-down look. "Couple of lessons, you'll be out there tearing it up."

  "Isn't golf kind of a hard game?"

  "Oh it is, it is. That is why we are here."

  I had a feeling he was here more to play up to rich older women that wanted a thrill. I didn't remember any of the golfers on TV having biceps that looked like overgrown tree limbs. "What exactly am I going to learn in a half hour?" At seventy-five dollars a pop, even on my new salary, I would be broke in a couple of months if I took golf lessons.

  "The basics. Do you have clubs or do you need to rent them?"

  I gave him a "get real" look. "I think I'll inspect the course. See if it looks beginner friendly."

  "Our resort has five tee boxes, which encompasses every skill level in golf. If you like, as part of your lesson, I can grab some clubs and show you the basics out on the course. Although in that case, you'll need to pay for the round of golf in addition to the lessons. I assure you it is well worth it. Our resort was designed and has been played by some of the most famous names in golf. Would you like me to bring around a cart?"

  I wasn't going to embarrass myself by asking if there was a charge for the cart because there had to be. Besides, I needed the exercise. He frowned as I started towards the first hole. "Uh, Miss?"

  "Yeah?"

  "You, uh, are
n't going to just walk around?"

  Since that was precisely what I intended to do, I nodded.

  He looked ill-at-ease, kind of like the doorman back at Huntington's condo whenever he saw me coming. "You need to watch for golf balls. It isn't safe out there. Perhaps you should take a cart." He emphasized the suggestion rather more sternly this time.

  "Fine." Dan was probably playing anyway, and if he saw me, there was no doubt in my mind that he would aim right for me.

  Joe Trainer didn't have any lessons scheduled so he drove me around and explained that I needed to be quiet and stop the cart when someone was hitting. I was right about Dan; we got to the second hole, and there he was with Gary and a couple of other guys. Gary waved his golf hat and gave a shout, "Come on over!"

  I had never seen the man in such a good mood. Since he knew about the plan, I could only assume he suspected one of the guys he was playing with, and he wanted me in attendance.

  With a rather weak smile, I stepped out of the cart and joined them on the tee box.

  Gary's golf cap, now back on his head, took ten years off his profile. The gray ring of hair visible on the sides of the hat made it appear he had a full head of hair rather than a rounded, bald top.

  "Do you golf?" He had asked me that before. The answer was still the same.

  I noticed that Autumn was in one of the carts. She looked pretty interested in her nail polish, so I strove for a more intellectual approach. "I'm a student of the game."

  "Did you see that shot I just hit?" Gary asked. "I hit that ball so hard I about came out of my shoes!"

  By staring very hard, I could see a golf ball on the short grass about halfway to the hole. "Wow." Okay, I was no expert, but it seemed to me that there wasn't any water or hazards or even a particularly threatening tree line in his way.

  "We could use an extra cart, ride along with us," Gary suggested.

  That helped clear up the question of his enthusiasm. With Autumn along, one of the men must be walking.

  "Sure." If my own enthusiasm was lacking, no one seemed to care. Joe Trainer knew his business. He hopped out of the cart with his forty-dollar-a-month tan and gave me a quick salute before jogging off.