Dawn Stewardson - Unexpected Outcome

“He ran with a bad crowd as a kid and eventually did a stretch for a B and E. It was his parole officer who got him the job at Four Corners.”

“Now, that’s an interesting wrinkle.”

She nodded. “According to Robert, they’ve never had a single problem with Tony. But Larry figures… Well, I already told you what he thinks.”

“That there’s a rotten apple in the warehouse,” Jack said.

“At least one. Maybe two or three.”

“Yeah, they could all have been in on it. But, you know, something isn’t sitting right with me.”

“What?”

“It’s just too obvious. I mean both the arson and this pointing toward the same people seems like overkill.”

She nodded again, glad to hear her father’s line of reasoning coincided with hers. “And there’s another thing. They all offered to take lie detector tests.”

That made him grin. “Sounds as if they watch too many cop shows.”

“Maybe. But Tanaka arranged for it. And according to the tests, none of them had anything to do with either the arson or the theft of the containers.”

“’Course…those things can be beaten.”

“Uh-huh. So if it was only one of them involved, and he managed to do that…”

Jack nodded, then said, “I think you were right. This really could be an interesting case.”

FIRST THING Monday morning Dana was at Four Corners once more, ready to step into her role as Dana Mayfield.

After she’d spent a few minutes asking Robert last-minute questions, he said he’d show her to the office she’d be using. Surprisingly, he led her over to the short hallway near the top of the stairs.

When she told him she hadn’t expected to be on the “executive floor,” he smiled.

“You’ll have more privacy here,” he said.

She knew that had to be true. Tucked away and out of sight would perfectly describe the location.

“As you’ll see when you get the grand tour,” he continued, “our office area downstairs is basically open concept.”

“You’re saying it’s not quite ideal for someone doing undercover work.”

He smiled again. “Exactly. I didn’t think you’d want people looking over your shoulder.

“And these two offices are just sitting empty. Both Noah and our director of logistics, Chris Vidal, prefer to be on the main floor. They interact a lot with the rest of the staff, so being up here wouldn’t work as well.

“That, by the way,” he added, pointing toward a narrow back staircase, “will take you down to a hall that runs from the alley door to the main office area.”

The stairs, she saw, also led to the top floor. When she asked what was up there, Robert said, “It’s mostly dead storage. Filing cabinets full of old records and all sorts of other ghosts from the past thirty years.”

She resisted the impulse to say that, considering costs in Manhattan, it was an incredibly expensive storage area.

Then she had the disconcerting sense Robert had ESP as he said, “We’ve got more room than we really need.

“Initially, we figured we’d use that space for additional employees as the business grew. But modern technology exploded, the work world changed and we didn’t grow, people-wise, the way we’d anticipated.”

Opening the office door, he ushered her inside. “Helen put some supplies in the desk and had that computer moved in. If there’s anything else you need, just tell her.”

“Thanks, I will.”

She eyed the computer for a second, hoping it was loaded with software she knew, then turned her attention back to Robert.

He’d taken a couple of keys from his pocket and was saying, “These are for the door and the desk. And I should show you this.” He produced a sheet of paper and gave it to her along with the keys.

“After you left on Friday, I drafted a memo about you—made you sound as nonthreatening as I could.”

She began skimming it. Addressed to “All Staff,” it said that, in light of recent problems, he and Larry had hired an organizational design expert to look at the company’s operations with fresh eyes.

It went on to say that while her findings might result in a few modifications to current practices, no changes would be made without the direct involvement of any employees affected.

“That was a good idea,” she said once she’d finished reading. “People do tend to feel threatened by a stranger coming in and poking around.”

He nodded. “I’d like to know how much anxiety you think there actually is. As well as have you keep me up-to-date on your progress. So let’s set a regular time to touch base each day.”

“Sure.”

“Maybe late afternoon? Four-thirty or so? My office?”

“Fine.”

She’d assumed from the beginning that this was more his project than Larry’s, and by now she knew she was right. Which was perfectly okay.

She got positive vibes from him, but she couldn’t say the same about his partner.

In fact, on a couple of occasions during their meeting last week, she’d had the impression that Larry had only agreed to hire an investigator because Robert was pushing the idea.

“Is there anything else we should discuss before you get started?” he said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then I’ll ask Helen to have Noah come up.”

“Noah?”

“Uh-huh. Since we haven’t told him you’re really a P.I., there’s no risk of his blowing your cover. Whereas both Larry and I have been known to say things without thinking.

“Besides, the obvious person to introduce you around is the one in charge of day-to-day operations.”

“Ah. Good point.”

There was no arguing with Robert’s logic. But more than once over the weekend, a distracting image of Noah Haine had tiptoed through her mind. And she had a horrible suspicion that having the real thing at her side would prove a much bigger distraction than any image.

To stop herself from worrying about that, she sat down at the desk and jiggled the mouse, bringing the computer to life. Fortunately, it was loaded with Office—which was what she was used to.

She was just resisting the temptation to check whether Free Cell had been deleted when she heard footsteps in the hall. Her pulse began a funny little dance.

Firmly, she reminded herself she was an adult, not a teenager at the mercy of raging hormones. Despite that, all it took was Noah reaching her doorway and gracing her with one of his warm smiles to make her feel a distinct…

But it wasn’t a feeling that had anything to do with raging hormones. It was merely a fresh flicker of awareness that he was an attractive man. And she had no difficulty ignoring flickers.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same about those darned smiles. She’d have to work at developing an immunity to them. Starting now.

When he closed her door and lowered himself into a chair, an unsettling sense that he’d just assumed control seized her—despite the fact that she was the one on the business side of the desk.

Then he smiled again and said, “Before we get going, how about filling me in on how you’ll be approaching things. My uncle was pretty vague.”

“Well, that’s probably because I was pretty vague with him. OD isn’t an exact science—as I’m sure you know. But generally speaking, I’ll just start by getting people to talk about the company and their role in it. Then, depending on where that leads…”

Noah said nothing, simply sat watching her. She began to feel unsettled again.

He had a master’s degree in business. A genuine one, as opposed to the one that existed on her trumped-up credentials. And that meant he could easily be far more knowledgeable about OD than she was.

If she inadvertently said anything dumb, would he pick up on it? She certainly hoped not.