Avarice or Innocence (JOHN LOGAN FILES Book 1)

by Marshall Huffman

  “Something like that,” Terry relied.

  “Can I do anything? Anything at all to help?” Jim asked, concerned for his friend.

  “Not really. It will work itself out. I guess you could agree to sell the company or get financing to buy me out,” Terry suggested.

  “Other than that,” Jim quickly replied.

  “No, there is really nothing you can do. I would really appreciate it if you would not to mention this to Stephanie. She might let something slip and then I would have to deal with that as well,” Terry said.

  “Alright. I will respect that. I won’t say a thing. I give you my word,” Jim told him.

  “That’s good enough for me. Look, I have a lot to do. We will talk again later, and thanks,” Terry said.

  “For what?”

  “For not asking if it was true. I appreciate that.”

  “I never thought it for a minute. I know you too well,” Jim replied.

  “Thanks just the same,” he said and went back to his office.

  Linda arrived an hour later with a list of places she wanted to go. Jim handed the travel arrangements over to Martha and set about talking to the people in charge at each facility they had been using for the Beta tests. It was time consuming but at last he was able to coordinate a reasonable time schedule.

  It was dark by the time he dragged his tired body out to the car. He sat staring out the windshield for some time before he finally worked up the energy to drive home. The only saving grace was the fact that the traffic would be light at this time of night. He cleared the main gate and headed home.

  A note from Stephanie informed him that she was at aerobics class and was going to have a bite to eat later. He could either go out for dinner or rummage around in the refrigerator for something of substance. He elected to stay home and eat junk food with a Diet Coke. Quite a combination, all in all.

  He settled in on the couch and watched the Discovery Channel. Stephanie, closing the front door, startled him awake.

  “Sorry. I thought you would be up in bed,” she said, realizing Jim was asleep on the sofa.

  “I must have drifted off,” he said, looking at his watch, “Is it almost midnight?”

  “Just about,” she replied, setting her duffel bag in the closet.

  “It’s kind of late isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Oh, you know how it is when a bunch of us get together to gab,” she said, heading for the stairs, “You coming to bed?” she asked.

  “Yeah. It was a rough day. I hope I didn’t sleep too long on the couch,” he replied.

  “Take a Melatonin. That will put you out like a light,” she said climbing the stairs.

  “Usually does,” he replied.

  Stephanie headed to the shower immediately.

  “You going to take a shower at this time of night?” he asked.

  “The restaurant allowed smoking. I hate that smell. I want to get it off of me,” she quickly answered.

  “I didn’t notice it,” Jim said, getting ready to climb into bed.

  “I’ll be out in a minute. Here, take your pill,” she said, handing him one from the bottle and a glass of water. He downed it and slid between the sheets. They felt cool and refreshing. Within minutes the sound of the shower started to fade and soon he had drifted off to sleep.

  The last thing he remembered was wishing he could tell her about the problems that Terry and Carla were having. She was so good at helping people. He was sure she could help but he had given his word so he kept his mouth shut.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jim arrived at work the next day feeling apprehensive and tired. He had tossed and turned all night. Something was still not right, he could feel it, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Could they have a spy in the company? The term sounded so silly to him. Still he knew industrial spying was big business. It would not be beneath Mr. Aikimoto, he was sure of that. He seemed harmless enough on the surface but there was something about the way he could hide behind his eyes. He wondered what Terry could have been talking to him about for so long. Probably having to apologize for his partner’s lack of good business sense. Linda was waiting with Martha just outside of his office door.

  “Good morning ladies,” he said, trying to shake off his tiredness.

  “Ms. Taylor is waiting to see you Mr. Ashton,” Martha said as he stepped out of the elevator.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked hesitantly.

  “Oh no. I just want to make sure I understand the parameters of my job,” Linda said.

  “Follow me in,” he said, opening the door to his office.

  “Would you like anything?” Martha inquired.

  “Nothing for me. Maybe Linda would like something?” he said turning to her.

  “No thank you, I’m fine,” she told him.

  He offered her a seat and sat down at his desk. A stack of messages was neatly placed by his phone. He resisted the temptation to look at them.

  “What is it that you need to know Miss Taylor?”

  “It’s about this trip. I think I may have overstepped my authority when I spoke up yesterday. I am not sure Bob is going to think too highly of me when I get back,” she blurted out.

  “Has he said anything?” Jim asked.

  “Not in so many words. That’s just it, he has always chatted away with me in the lab but since the meeting he hasn’t said two words. It’s totally unlike him,” she told him.

  “Miss Taylor, let’s face it, he has a heck of a big job to do and not much time to do it in. I think you are making a mountain out of a molehill. I will talk to Bob myself and I will make it perfectly clear that this is something that has to be done and I feel you are the one for the job. And when you come back, if you still feel that a problem exists, I’ll handle it. Fair enough?”

  “I just don’t want trouble. I have always enjoyed working with Bob and I don’t want anything to jeopardize that relationship,” she answered.

  “I understand. I’ll handle it delicately. Rest assured that he will understand your feelings and the importance of your assignment. Leave it to me,” he replied.

  “One other question is how do you want me to report my findings? Should I go to Bob, Terry, or you?”

  “Ah. Good question. Humm. The political correctness angle crops up. Under normal circumstances I would have you report to Bob but this is not a normal situation. No, I want you to report directly to me. I will explain to Bob that I have instructed you to do so. I’ll make sure that I take the heat for that decision,” he assured her.

  “Somehow it seems like another nail in my career coffin,” she sighed.

  “You’re worrying about the wrong things. I’ll make sure you are well taken care of. You will not suffer one bit because of this mission. Trust me,” he replied.

  “And the check is in the mail. All right Mr. Ashton, I do trust you. That’s why I really came here this morning. I just wanted you to know what I was feeling. I really don’t want to see anything happen to my career or the relationship I have with my fellow technicians.”

  “Leave it to me,” he said, standing to indicate that it was time for her to go. She quickly stood and looked at her watch.

  “I had best get a move on. I have twelve facilities to visit, I would hate to miss the very first leg of this conquest,” she joked.

  After she left, Jim read through the messages on his desk. He arranged them in order of importance and started returning the calls. The highest priority was to Wired Magazine. He had been keeping them interested with innuendoes and veiled promises of great things to come from DigitCom. He didn’t want them to lose interest.

  He spent the entire morning talking on the phone. Jim had never bought into the concept of micro-management. He preferred to hire good people and then let them have at it. He seldom got involved with the day to day aspects of the operation. That was typically Terry’s job, but today was different.

  Terry had called in and reminded Martha that he was going to be at a trade show
and would not be back until Friday. In all the excitement yesterday it had been forgotten. Normally everything ran like clockwork when Terry was gone but today everyone needed attention. It was a never ending parade of interruptions. He could only get through half of his messages and little was accomplished with his list of things to do.

  His talk with Bob Spitzer was cordial enough but impersonal and rather cold. He did not know Spitzer as well as Terry did and that was part of the problem. The other thing was that Bob was technically was under Terry’s department of responsibility so he was apprehensive about how the chain of command was being rearranged. He took his new orders with quiet reserve and went back to the lab. He did not like the fact that Linda Taylor was going directly to Ashton. At the very least he thought she should be reporting to Terry.

  Jim went from one meeting to another almost nonstop. He finally got some of his own work done after most of the staff had left for the evening. He was surprised to find that it was so late when he finally took a break to get a Diet Coke.

  He called home but only got the answering machine. He left a message that he was working late and would be home by ten or eleven at the latest. He settled back into his office and read through the Aikimoto proposal once again. He was looking for clues as to how they knew so much.

  An hour later he realized he had read the same line about three times. He was being totally unproductive. He wearily walked to his car and headed home.

  A car honking behind him startled him at one traffic light. It had been a very long, tedious, and tiring day. When he pulled into the driveway he noticed several lights were on in the house but when he opened the garage door he saw that Stephanie’s BMW was gone.

  He went inside and looked for a note but found none. He pushed the play button on the answering machine and listened to the endless chatter of Stephanie’s babbling friends. There was no message from her.

  He went upstairs, undressed and took a hot shower. After toweling off he lay down and within seconds was sound asleep. He awoke with a start around four a.m. The bedside light was still on and Stephanie was not there. He got up and went quickly through the house, checking the garage for her car.

  He looked at the day planner they both used to make sure he hadn’t forgotten some trip she had planned. Nothing indicated that she was going anywhere for two more weeks. He wasn’t really sure what to do next.

  It seemed silly to call the police. She would kill him if she had told him of some event and he had forgotten it. There was no one to call at this hour. He walked around the house for a few minutes, picking up the phone several times before actually dialing the police.

  “911. Are you reporting an emergency?” the impersonal voice said.

  “Ah, actually I’m not sure. I’m calling about my wife. She hasn’t come home and it’s almost 4:30 a.m.,” he said.

  “Has there been an accident?” the lady asked.

  “I don’t think so. I mean, I guess I really don’t know. It’s just that she isn’t here and she should have been home long ago,” he said.

  “You’re calling from 355-0990? Mr. Ashton?”

  “Yes. That’s correct,” he said, surprised that they knew that information so quickly.

  “Mr. Ashton, have you had any words with your wife recently?”

  “Words? Sure. We talked this morning before.....Oh. No, a not fight if that’s what you mean,” he said, dropping the tone of his voice.

  “Have you contacted local hospitals yet to see if she might be there?”

  “Well, no. You mean the emergency rooms?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “No. I didn’t think to do that. Is that where I should start?” he asked, feeling foolish for not thinking of that sooner.

  “That’s where I would start. After you have checked them out you can call this number, do you have a pen?” she asked.

  “Just a second,” he said, fumbling to get the drawer open. He found a pen and scrap of paper, “go ahead.”

  “399-5000. That’s our regular inquiry line. Do not call back on 911 unless it’s to report an emergency.”

  “Alright. I’ll call and let you know one way or the other,” he told her.

  “Not me. Call the 399-5000 number only if she is not at one of the hospitals. If you locate her then you do not need to call us back. Do you understand?” she said as if talking to a child.

  “I’m not stupid; of course I understand,” he shot back.

  “Uh-huh,” she replied and hung up.

  He called the emergency rooms in all six hospitals and no one by that name or matching her description was listed. It was almost 5:30 a.m. by the time he called the non-emergency number to report that his wife was still missing.

  They took down the basic information and told him that an officer would be around shortly. It was another forty-five minutes before they arrived at his house. He was working himself into quite a frantic state by the time they got there.

  Ashton answered the door as the policeman pressed the doorbell button.

  “Officers, please come in,” he said opening the door.

  “Mr. Ashton?”

  “Yes. Yes. Please, come in,” he told them.

  His hair was sticking up all over as a result of his constantly running of his hands through it.

  “I’m Officer Stockton and this is my partner, Officer Martin,” the older man said.

  “I’m James Ashton. I called about my wife. She is missing and I have checked the hospitals and no one by her description has been admitted,” he quickly explained.

  “Alright Mr. Ashton. What time did you discover her missing?” Officer Stockton asked, taking out a pad of paper and a gold Cross pen.

  “I noticed her car was gone when I got home around 10:30 p.m. last night. That in itself is not so unusual. She does a lot of volunteer work and has aerobics classes two or three nights a week. She usually leaves a note if she is going to be much after 10:00 p.m. I didn’t find a note. Again, that happens from time to time. Sometimes she just tells me and quite often it goes in one ear and out the other. I didn’t get too concerned at first.”

  “You were coming from?”

  “Work. I worked at my office until around 10:00 p.m. I called to tell her I was going to be late but only got the answering machine,” he explained.

  “You checked the answering machine for messages?” the younger office asked.

  “Yes. I found three others and mine but none from her to me,” he answered.

  “And what time did you start to get worried?” he asked.

  “After I took a shower I lay down on the bed and I must have drifted right off to sleep. I woke around 4:00 a.m. and realized the lights were still on and Stephanie, my wife, was still not home. I went and checked the garage to make sure. That’s when I called,” he told them.

  “Mr. Ashton. Have you and your wife had any...you know....conflicts?” Officer Stockton asked.

  “That’s what the lady at 911 asked. No. We haven’t had a fight in months. Maybe longer. Look, this isn’t about a domestic quarrel. She is missing and I think something has happened to her,” he said.

  “Happened to her? Like what?” Officer Martin interjected.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I called you. She isn’t here. There is no note and no reason that I can think of as to why she isn’t home,” he explained.

  “Mr. Ashton, I know this is a lousy question but are there any extra martial activities that could be going on, on either of your parts,” Stockton said looking Ashton right in the eye.

  “Oh heavens no. Look, I don’t have either the time or the inclination for fooling around. Stephanie is a great wife. She would never do such a thing,” he said forcefully.

  “But she does have a great deal of time on her hands. I take it she doesn’t work?” Martin asked.

  “No. She doesn’t have a job, but like I said, she does a great deal of volunteer work. Guys, we don’t have martial problems. At least not that type,” Ashton said, shaking his hea
d.

  Officer Martin had been wondering around the room, picking up various items and examining them. He found a picture in a gold frame and brought it over to Ashton.

  “This a recent picture of your wife?”

  “Fairly. I think it was taken last year around Christmas,” he told them.

  “Do you mind if we take it and have a copy made. We will return it right away.”

  “Sure. Whatever you need,” he told them.

  “Let’s start with a detailed description. Give me all the information you can think of including what she may have on,” Officer Stockton said, starting a new heading on his pad of paper.

  Ashton went through the usual items and gave them a complete description of her car as well. Blond hair, five-five, one hundred and twenty-five pounds, blue eyes. He told them she had a faint birthmark on her right shoulder. He wasn’t much help in telling them what she had on since she was still in bed when he left that morning. He gave them a quick tour through the house. They checked for missing personal items but as far as Jim could tell nothing was missing. They asked about her parents but they were both deceased.

  “Mr. Ashton, your wife is not going to be listed as officially missing until forty-eight hours have passed. That doesn’t mean we won’t be looking for her. It’s just a formality. We will turn our information over to missing persons if she has not been found or you have not contacted us by noon tomorrow,” Stockton explained.

  “So what do I do now? I can’t just wait around until someone calls or she does,” he said in exasperation.

  “I understand your feelings. I know how I would feel if my wife were missing, but there is very little you can do except to check with her close friends and see if they know anything. Maybe you overlooked some place she was going. Heck, I forget half of what my wife tells me,” Officer Stockton said, smiling.

  “Okay, I’ll call a few of her friends. I think I’ll sound pretty dumb, asking where my wife is,” he said.

  “It’s that or just sitting around waiting for the phone to ring. It will give you something to do, and who knows, you may get lucky,” Martin said.

  “Okay. What about going to work? I really need to get into the office sometime today,” he told them.