“How long had you been employed at Fairchild Ltd.?”
“Six years.”
“What exactly are your duties there?”
“Chemist.”
“I understand that you’re a chemist, but what did you do on a daily basis?”
“I created fragrances.”
“What is that process like?”
“I have a team of people around me that help me with the formulation and experimentation for the creation of new fragrances.”
“I see. How are those formulas preserved and protected?”
Before Jacques answered the question, he could see that Detective Carson was scribbling on a yellow notepad. He had been since the start of the interview. “We have a password protected computer system.”
“How many people had access to these computers?”
“Five people.”
“Does each individual have their own password?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever shared your password with anyone?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
The detective leaned forward, drumming his fingers against the wooden table, his eyes slanted. “Mr. Germain, can you tell me why your password was used just prior to the theft and subsequent leaking of those formulas?”
Jacques snapped back. “Leaking? No. I have no clue. Obviously, the system was breached.” He ground his teeth together, trying to hold back the expletive that was in his throat. Jacques knew exactly where the man was going, but showing him his anger would only make him push more.
“Did you do it?”
“No. I have no need to steal what already belonged to me since I created that formula. It was not the first time nor will it be the last time I’d made one. I suggest instead of grilling me, you get someone with more intelligence and find the thief or thieves that did this,” Jacques said, staring the detective in the eyes.
After the policeman didn’t have a comeback, Jacques asked, “Now, is this interview over?”
O’Bryan nodded. “For now, yes. But we will be in touch.”
Jacques backed his chair from under the table. The interrogator stood, offered his hand, but Jacques ignored it, turned and walked out of the door, leaving his lawyer and the detectives behind. John hurried to catch him and threw his arm around his shoulders.
“Jacques, it is going to be alright. We will get to the bottom of this. I have investigators working around the clock. I’ll be in touch with you in a few days.”
“John, this is ridiculous. It would be helpful to know what they’ve found out so far. I’m questioning if they grilled the rest of my staff as they did me. Or have they already pegged me as the culprit?”
“We will get to the bottom of this,” John repeated himself.
Both men headed out the door. Before Jacques stepped inside his awaiting limo, he turned to John. “I hope you get some answers sooner rather than later.” He stepped inside and pressed the electronic button to lower the window.
John moved closer to the vehicle and Jacques extended his hand through the open space waiting for John to take it. “I appreciate you being here with me, brother.”
“It didn’t look like you needed me at all. You handled it nicely,” John replied.
Shaking hands vigorously, John placed his other hand on top of Jacques’s. “I’m on it, man, I promise. I’ll call you in a few days.”
Jacques flicked the switch and watched as the tinted glass rose up smoothly, shading him from the outside. As the car pulled away from the curb, he gave the driver the address to his apartment. He wanted to check on things and since he still had four hours before his flight it was a good time to do so.
When he got to his apartment, he watered his plants, grabbed a garbage bag and cleaned out his refrigerator since he didn’t know when he’d be back. After pulling the strings to secure the bag he sorted through the stack of mail he’d picked up from the box downstairs. He made a mental note to be sure to have it held at the post office until he returned for good.
Lifting the garbage bag, he looked around the spacious area before going downstairs and dropping the trash in the big gondola. Looking up once again at the building, he stepped inside the black Lincoln Town Car and headed to the airport.
On the plane ride back to Chicago, Jacques sat nursing a glass of vodka as he stared out of the window. He decided to drown out his thoughts about the interview and the ten thousand possible outcomes of the whole mess.
* * * * *
Patrice was excited about going to her parents’ house and was happy that everyone agreed to meet her there. She couldn’t wait to tell them the good news and hoped that her mother would see her dedication to taking the family business to the next level.
As she pulled along the curb, she saw that her sisters had already taken the spots in the driveway. Getting out of the car, she walked swiftly to the house, but before she could put her key in the lock, her father answered the door.
Patrice was so happy to see that her father was home and could hear her news along with everyone else. The fifty-five-year-old retired firefighter had a very special relationship with each of his daughters. Patrice could always count on him for support.
“Treecie, baby,” Russell said, holding the door open. “They’re waiting for you.”
As Patrice embraced him, she saw her father’s coat in the chair in the corner. “You’re not leaving are you Daddy?” she asked, walking into the foyer.
“I was going down to the barbershop, but your momma told me that you had some big announcement, so I’m going to wait.”
Again, Patrice hugged him tightly. “Good, because I wanted you to hear it from me.”
Closing the door behind her, Russell said, “You’d better get in there then.”
Patrice and her father walked through the house to the stairs that lead to the family room in the lower level. All three of her sisters were sitting near the L-shaped couch along with their mother. “What’s up, y’all,” she said, dropping her purse in the nearest empty recliner.
She walked over and kissed her mother on the cheek and then sat next to her. She looked at her sister Renee. “Guess who came into the shop yesterday?”
“Who?”
“Angela Simpson.”
“Really, what is she doing in Chicago?” Renee asked.
“Her mother is ill, so she came to see about her,” Patrice replied.
Myra frowned. “I hope it’s not anything serious. I’ve known Lela since you girls were in third grade. Nice woman.”
“I didn’t ask, but Angela was impressed with the products in the shop and asked if I could create a fragrance for her.” Patrice waited to get a response from her family, but everyone was sitting quietly looking at her as if they were expecting her to say more.
“Fragrance? You’ve never done a fragrance, have you?” Faith finally asked.
Patrice exhaled. “Uh, no. I haven’t.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s a great idea, but do you even know the first thing about the process?” Faith said.
“I know that essential oils are one of the ingredients in making a perfume and I know them like the back of my hand,” Patrice said in defense.
“How are you going to pull this off? Remember we talked about this being a big deal. I hope you didn’t promise Angela that you could do this, Treecie.”
Patrice laid her hand on her mother’s thigh. “Not to worry. I actually found the person who is going to help me.”
“Already?” Faith asked.
Patrice nodded, a wide smile growing on her face. “Yes ma’am, I sure did.”
“Who?” Jennifer asked.
“This guy I met at the WPC Conference. His name is Jacques Germain.”
“What kind of name is Jacques?” Jennifer asked.
“He’s a brotha to
o,” Patrice added.
“Are you sure that he can help you, Treecie?” Myra asked.
“Was he cute?” Jennifer asked.
Patrice looked between both her mother and sister. She didn’t think this was going to be so hard, but evidently she was wrong. “Jenn, what does his being cute have to do with whether he can help me pull this off?”
Jennifer shrugged. “I’m just asking because you said that he was a brother. I was wondering if he was cute.”
Patrice rolled her eyes. “Just because you’ve been married all of, what, a week or so doesn’t mean that you can try to play matchmaker.”
“I’m not. I don’t even know the guy.”
Renee cleared her throat. “Let’s stay focused now,” she said, before turning to Patrice. “Treecie, you don’t have to pay this man any money, do you?”
Patrice didn’t have the heart to tell them that she hadn’t gotten that far with him yet. If she did then they would probably tear her apart. She didn’t feel like arguing with them. She had been pumped up about the project, but after hearing her family’s reaction, it seemed to let all the air out.
“If you’re asking me if I think he’s going to swindle me out of any money the answer is absolutely not,” Patrice explained calmly. She didn’t want them to hear the disappointment in her voice. She had to pretend that their words didn’t sting, when they really did.
“Do you think you can have it done by Valentine’s Day?” Myra asked.
“Valentine’s Day is about six weeks away, Treecie,” Renee said.
Russell stepped forward, clearing his throat loudly. “Wait a minute, girls, let’s not be so rough on Treecie.”
Patrice glanced at him, giving him a slight smile. Yet again, Daddy to the rescue. She turned to Renee and looked her in the eye. “I know how much time I have to get it done, Renee,” she said, exhaling before addressing her mother’s statement.
“Mom, I haven’t gotten into any details with him because he had to go out of town. As soon as he gets back, we will take things from there. I’m sure that he can do it, Mom, so stop worrying.”
Myra got up from her seat and turned around to her husband who was standing behind the sofa. “Russell, I’m not being hard on Patrice. I know that she is ambitious and likes to try to do the impossible. I don’t want her to be let down.”
Russell came to stand next to his wife, enveloping her with his right arm, pulling her close. “Let’s give her a chance,” he said, before planting a kiss on her forehead and giving Patrice a wink.
Myra stepped away from her husband and walked over to Patrice, who stood immediately. She grabbed her hands and squeezed them gently. “Treecie, I trust you, baby, but I know how you are when you get excited. I want you to stay grounded and go into this thing with your eyes wide open.”
“I will, I promise. This is going to be fantastic.”
Russell grabbed Myra’s hand. “I’m sure she will, baby. Why don’t we go out for dinner?” Russell said, squeezing Myra’s hand then headed for the stairs.
“Treecie, I want to meet this guy,” Myra said over her right shoulder.
“Okay,” Patrice said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she sat back down.
Once her parents had disappeared up the stairs, she scooted closer to her sisters.
“There’s more to this, isn’t there, Treecie?” Faith said.
“Yes,” Patrice said, turning to Jennifer. “Jenn, the man is fine.” Patrice slowly moved her head from left to right. “I had dinner with him the other night and he told me that when he comes back we were going to make a fragrance and love.”
Jennifer giggled. “Really? He’s a bold one.”
“Yeah and what did you say?” Renee asked.
Patrice was quiet. She knew that it was out of character for her but there was something about this man that made her react to him differently.
Jennifer rushed over to the sofa and sat next to Patrice, pushing at her shoulder. “You agreed, didn’t you?”
Patrice batted her eyes playfully at her sister.
Renee gasped. “You did. Oooo, Treecie.”
“Girl, you don’t even know this man,” Faith added.
“I know, I know. But—” Patrice started but was cut off by Jennifer.
“And you had the nerve to talk about me sleeping with Simeon when I went on vacation.”
“Yeah, I know I did, Jenn. I really don’t know how to explain it and I’ve never felt this way about a man before. He’s just different is all I can say.”
“What do you think it is about him that attracts you?” Jennifer asked.
Patrice gave them a dreamy-eyed look. “Everything and nothing in particular, if that makes any sense. I even like the way he talks. He’s so proper and the words just come out. He dresses in tapered slacks, vests, bow ties, brown shoes.”
“Oh, he’s Charlie Brown,” Renee joked.
“No, Renee, he’s not Charlie Brown. You’d have to see him to understand what I mean.”
“When can we meet this guy?” Faith asked.
“I’ll let you know.”
Patrice could understand her sister’s concern about her teaming up with and getting personally involved with Jacques but in her heart she knew that everything was going to work out fine.
“Are you guys going to leave me hanging like this? All this negativity as many times as you’ve made dumb-ass mistakes?” Patrice turned to Jennifer. “I don’t appreciate it.”
Jennifer quickly moved closer to her. “Don’t act like that, Treecie. We only want what’s best for you. I know in your heart you know that.”
“Yes, and we want you to succeed with this fragrance. We’re just saying the things that other people wouldn’t tell you, is all,” Faith said, dropping to her knees in front of Patrice.
“We all support each other and I didn’t feel that way this evening,” Patrice said honestly.
Renee stood to her feet and pushed her way closer to Patrice, causing Faith to lose her balance and Jennifer and Patrice to fall over. “We were pretty rough on you, sweetie. Look at how many times you’ve been rough on us.”
Patrice was well aware of her sometimes-flippant remarks on occasion, so she shouldn’t be this upset with her sisters. She exhaled and covered Faith’s hand, which was on top of her knee. “I know, all for one,” she started with her other sister’s stacking their hands on hers and they said together. “And one for all.”
Patrice, Jennifer and Renee fell back against the couch and Faith leaned forward laughing.
“I still want to meet this guy,” Faith said, getting up from the floor.
Jennifer stood. “Me, too,” she said looking at Patrice. “And not for what you think. I want to meet the guy who has my hard, big-mouthed, opinionated sister’s nose wide open. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush when you talked about a guy before.”
Both Renee and Patrice stood together and she pulled her sister close. “Me neither, so this should be interesting,” Renee said, kissing Patrice’s cheek.
Patrice watched her sisters grab their purses. “Hey, where are you guys going? I thought we were going to eat dinner.”
Jennifer threw her hand forward. “Mom and Dad went out and I’ve already cooked at home, so that’s where I’m going. Do you want to come? I made plenty.”
Patrice didn’t want to interfere with her sister’s happily married life. It wasn’t Jennifer’s fault that she didn’t like to cook. “No, that’s okay,” she said, eyeing her other sisters. “What about you guys?”
“I’m going back to the office to finish a proposal,” Renee said, slipping her arm in her jacket.
“And I’m just going to pick up some take-out for me and Michael,” Faith said, swinging her purse on her arm.
Patrice threw up both hands. “I guess I’ll be picking up take-out
as well.” She bent to lift her purse from the chair. “I thought Mom was going to cook though.”
Renee leaned closer to her. “You better be glad Daddy took her out or she would still be interrogating you right now.”
Patrice’s eyes widened and she nodded. “Right. Thank God for Daddy.”
“Daddy to the rescue,” the girls said in unison.
Faith headed for the stairs and everyone followed her. “I’ll call you guys later,” Patrice said as they got to the top of the landing.
Before opening her car door, she watched each of her siblings get into their vehicles and gratefulness washed over her as she was happy they’d talked about how their response affected her. They were taught if they had to disagree with each other, they had to fix it because it was important to stay in a good relationship with your family. Patrice didn’t want to ever be without her sisters.
* * * * *
Later on that evening, Patrice was preparing her usual late-night snack of butter pecan ice cream when she heard her cell phone buzzing in the next room. She had placed it on the charger so that it would be ready for the next day. She picked it up as quickly as she could before she’d lost the call.
“This is Patrice.”
“Hi Patrice.”
Patrice knew the voice but took the phone down to confirm the caller. It was Jacques.
“Jacques?”
“Yes, I wanted to let you know that I was back in Chicago.”
“Already? You sure didn’t stay away long.”
“No, I took care of my business and came right back. Listen, I was calling for two reasons: first to ask how your day went without me and second to schedule a meeting with you for tomorrow.”
Patrice laughed at his first statement, but when she heard silence, she understood that he meant what he’d said. Clearing her voice she responded. “I had a great day and I’m available whenever you are. Sooner would help me.”
“I’m an early riser, so the earlier the better.”
“Okay, is seven o’clock good for you?” she suggested.
“Seven o’clock would be great. What time does your store open?”
“We open at nine o’clock.”
Be My Valentine: The McClendon Holiday Series, Book 3 Page 7
