Executive Dirt: A Sedona O'Hala Mystery (26 page)

Mark nodded. “A woman didn’t drag Joe into the bathroom or Cary into your garden.”

I agreed. “Monique probably has access to Lawrence’s email, and even though I think she’d stoop pretty low to get ahead, she couldn’t have murdered either Joe or Cary on her own.”

“She and Lawrence together?”

“It’s possible.  She was dating Lawrence when he was at Clockworks and got hired on with Borgot after he landed the job there. She could be the brains behind the operation.” I shook my head. “I doubt it, though.”

Mark smiled. “You’re not dismissing your own sex, are you?  Maybe she is smart enough.”

I had overlooked a guilty woman before, but it wasn’t because I was sexist. “She wears the words ‘Doll Baby’ on the back of her pants!”

He raised an eyebrow and laughed.

“Okay, it’s possible she uses her sex as a distraction.  It’s possible she’s smarter than she appears.  But when would she have time to code languages?  She’s on the phone all day!”

“I’ll look into her background anyway, just in case.”

“Okay.  And I’ll make sure none of these people get behind me where I can’t see them.”

Mark sighed. “Good idea. And start looking for another job.”

I nodded.  That was another very good idea.

Chapter 36

I wasn’t entirely surprised to see Huntington’s Viper in the lot again on Friday morning. The venture capitalist meetings were supposedly over, but he could easily have set up a private meeting.

Trying not to be obvious about it, I scanned the parking lot for a motorcycle. There was no specific reason for Mark to be here, not really, but someone who worked inside this building was up to their neck in theft and murder.

The lack of a motorcycle in the lot didn’t settle my nerves.

Once upstairs, I checked my email first just in case there was a notice about another venture capitalist meeting. There wasn’t anything on the schedule for the wealthy donors, but there was a meeting for the rest of us tomorrow.  Lawrence wanted everyone to attend a special seven a.m. Saturday meeting to discuss patents and what it would take to be named on one.

“As if.”  Since I didn’t care about patents, I would definitely miss it.

I left my backpack in my cube, but kept my car keys and phone in my pocket. I considered carrying the backpack with me, but it would be too noticeable while I nosed around checking up on Huntington. If he was after additional information, the most logical place for him to be would be with the CEO, but Kay, our admin, informed me the boss was out for the day.

Two of the meeting rooms were in use. Barging in wasn’t really an option.

I wandered through the maze, checking the cubicles, but Huntington wasn’t likely to be digging into Borgot’s financial health out in the open.  There were no cookies or snacks left from yesterday’s meeting so I couldn’t pretend to drop by the meeting rooms with leftovers.

“Screw it.”  I grabbed a notepad and headed to the meeting rooms. I opened the door with my head down as though reading notes and then stopped quickly as soon as I had a foot inside.

The room was quiet, and to my surprise Howard was its only occupant.  Before I could excuse myself, he started talking. “That’s why you make the big bucks.  Figure it out and make sure it’s unique enough to patent.”  He reached around his laptop and hit the mute button on the teleconference phone before addressing me.  “Don’t tell me you are here to bug me about a patent because you won the contest for naming the phone assistant!”

I stopped in the process of stepping back. “What? No. Wrong meeting.”  I stepped away and pulled the door after me, but didn’t close it fast enough.

“Well, your idea isn’t good enough,” he called after me. “Save your questions for tomorrow.”

I slammed the door closed. Him and his stupid patents. I had completely forgotten the naming contest even though I had suggested the owner of the phones should be able to name the personal assistant voice themselves.  Maybe I should have checked all my emails before looking for Huntington.

Before I could barge into the second meeting room, I noticed Lawrence glide into the elevator.  Now that was interesting.  He was our prime suspect, and he wasn’t in the meeting with Huntington.  And neither was John, the CEO.

Had Huntington’s plan gone awry?  Was he sitting in one of these rooms wasting time with innocent bystanders while Lawrence went about his nefarious business?

I hit the stairwell, knowing I could make it to the first floor before the elevator arrived. I really should have kept my pack. Maybe I should just start leaving it in the car.

If Lawrence was sneaking off to code languages, did that mean he had another buyer lined up?  Rohit had been arrested and while it hadn’t made the news, surely Lawrence would figure it out if he hadn’t already.

I peeked through the small glass window on the stairwell door.

When Larry exited through the front door, I slid out of the stairwell and then waited at the front door until he hopped inside a yellow sports coupe.

There was no need to follow him.  If he went somewhere to code, I’d only know his hideout, and it was likely his own home. If he met with someone, I’d have no way of knowing if they were new buyers of the code or just more hoods he happened to know.

Just as I retreated, Huntington’s Viper edged out of its parking spot.  He had to wait for two cars, but he turned in the same direction as Lawrence’s yellow car.

Now how did Huntington think he could follow Lawrence discreetly in the Viper? If Lawrence was into cars at all, and from the looks of the yellow roadster it was probable, Lawrence would notice something as spiffy as the Viper tailing behind him.

I rolled my eyes, my speech for Huntington half formed when I noticed a black car pull out.  The windows were not tinted.

Clint Lewis shot out onto the road even faster than Huntington and headed in the same direction.

I ran into the parking lot and jumped into my own car. I wasn’t sure I’d gotten enough of a look at Clint’s car to spot it outright again, but Huntington’s Viper was an easy target.  If I could glimpse that, I’d be able to follow without a problem.

A tiny Ford Fusion slammed on its brakes when I pulled out of the parking lot, but it was an overreaction. I had plenty of time to speed off ahead of it.

I took to the road like a professional racer, zipping into the far lane and gunning it.  Driving Huntington’s Porsche had spoiled me.  The SUV, Mercedes or not, did not have the takeoff of his latest car.  Maybe he had to drive the Viper because Detective Saunders hadn’t released his Porsche yet.

I smiled an evil grin, not feeling the least bit sorry for Huntington. My glee was followed by a moment of panic before I finally caught sight of the Viper. The black car was still tailing behind it. Our entourage drove rapidly, but not overly so.

We took two turns before I was sure. If I had to bet money, we were headed for Alpine Hills where Monique said Lawrence lived.  That wouldn’t yield anything useful to me.  I wondered if Huntington knew he was being followed? And did Clint know I was following
him
?

“This is ridiculous.”  My stray thoughts had me looking in my rear view mirror.  Was I being followed?  Was there anyone
left
to follow me?

I stayed on the trail long enough to verify we were headed to the ritzy part of town and then pulled into a gas station on Pine Ridge Parkway. I watched traffic for a full minute, but if someone was following me, I couldn’t spot the tail.

My phone was relatively useless because I didn’t have Huntington’s number with me. I’d never called him on this phone.  Then again, I did know his Alpine Hills condo number.  He’d always set his phones to roll over to his cell.

I dialed the number. It rang, but he obviously wasn’t at the condo.  On the third ring it clicked and spattered.  I smiled.  The condo number was a land line so chances were good it was transferring the call.

He picked up on the seventh ring.

“Huntington?  Sedona.  Did you know you’re being followed?”

“This isn’t a good time,” he said tersely.

He was almost always terse with me unless he was trying to convince me of the ease and benefit of some new job. “It’s never a good time to be followed,” I said. “Black car.  I missed the brand because I didn’t get close enough.  Maybe an Infinity.”

“I meant it wasn’t a good time for me to talk,” he muttered.

“Never good to talk while driving and following a suspect.  The guy in the black car is Clint Lewis.”

There was a long pause before he finally said, “The ballet guy?”

“Yup. Ex-marine, karate guy. He was at the investor meeting with you yesterday. Black guy with a trimmed beard.  He’s shorter than you by a foot.”

“The guy sitting next to me?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?”

I rolled my eyes.  My thinking patterns were never likely to match his. “Clint has been around a lot lately.”

“Yeah.  But is he following me or Lawrence?  Gotta go.”

“One more thing, Huntington. Lawrence lives in Alpine—” There was no point in finishing the sentence. He’d already cut the connection.

The only net positive was that if anyone looked for me at work, they’d assume I was in one of the meetings because my backpack was still in my cube.

With that happy thought, I drove back to work.  As soon as I arrived I texted Mark to tell him about Clint and Huntington.

He texted back almost immediately. “Clint was following Lawrence. Steve pulled over. Clint kept going.”

Interesting. “Was Lawrence headed home?”

“No. Had a tee time at Alpine Hills golf course.”

A light went off in my brain. “Any chance Huntington noticed if John, the CEO of Borgot, was at the course?”

I waited impatiently, but I’d been dead on.  When the response came, it was one word. “Affirmative.”

Fiend.  No wonder Lawrence had to schedule an early Saturday meeting for the rest of us.  He was busy playing golf today.

I had another thought. “Did Clint join them on the course?”

“Negative.”

Hmm.  So why was he following Lawrence?

Chapter 37

I didn’t think anything could ruin my Saturday until the phone rang at the ungodly hour of six-thirty.  I looked at my phone. “It’s Sean.”

Mark opened one eye and sighed.

I mumbled something into the phone that didn’t have ‘good morning’ in it.

Sean was unnecessarily terse. “You don’t need to sew a baby bumper.  Mom wants to do it, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings by telling her you already offered.”

Brenda and Huntington had done any and all offering when it came to baby bumpers, but I wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if it was Sean making an excuse because he’d seen the awkward baby bibs on my table. “Great. I’m sure it will turn out perfect.”  I still didn’t even know what a baby bumper
was
never mind how to make one.  “I’m pretty busy anyway.”  Distracted by Mark getting up and heading to the shower, I nearly mentioned the case, but Sean would go ballistic if he had any inkling there was still a game afoot. 

“Just don’t bring up baby bumpers again,” Sean instructed. “Don’t mention baby bibs either. Ever.”

“Sure, fine, whatever.”

Sean grunted and hung up.  No point in him faking pleasantries more than necessary.

Since Mark was already up and moving, I put coffee on. I wanted to check my bank account anyway.

Just as Howard had informed me, I had won the naming contest and a cool five thousand dollars had been sent to my bank account.  I verified the amount had been deposited.

The money was definitely cause for a celebration.  Oh sure, I’d have to save most of the bonus because the Borgot job wasn’t likely to last, but it was a thrill to have won the prize.

Just as Mark came into the living room, the doorbell rang.

“This place is like a train station this morning,” Mark said.

I opened the door to find Brenda on the stoop.

Brenda was slimming down from her pregnancy with remarkable speed.  She was walking every day to make up for the fact she was on maternity leave and not doing rounds at her hospital job. Motherhood definitely agreed with her.

“Sedona,” she cried, her big brown eyes holding back tears, “Sean says you can’t do the baby bumper!”  She wrung her hands.

“That was his opinion, yes. I didn’t say I wasn’t doing it.”  As soon as the words were uttered, I realized I had trapped myself. A few seconds ago, I had technically been relieved of the project because Sean had decided Mom should do it. “Wait,” I said, looking at Mark for inspiration.  He just shook his head at me and did not provide a new excuse.

“My mom is sewing one too,” I blurted out. “She’s better at it and faster.”

Brenda flapped her hands. “I don’t know how to sew either, but I thought between the two of us, we could figure it out. I left the baby with Sean. I didn’t tell him I was coming over here, but we can do it! We’ll sew it together, and won’t he be surprised!”

If there was one thing in this world that was worse than me sewing, it had to be me trying to sew with Brenda.

“Oh, no.” I shook my head vehemently. “There is no way we can sew anything that complex today.”  In desperation, I turned to Mark again.

“I’m not going to do it,” was his response.

That hadn’t been the kind of help I was hoping for.  Neither was the beep of the alarm for the backyard.  I started towards the kitchen, but the second and third warning beeps were much closer together this time.

Mark muttered something about it being too light outside for raccoons.

Whatever Radar and Turbo had improved, it wasn’t the noise.  The backyard exploded with the sound of a banshee attacking a ghost.

Brenda screamed.

Mark spun for the bedroom where he had left his gun. “You two stay here and get down!”

As if. “Brenda, hide behind the couch! Call 911 if anything goes wrong.”  I shadowed Mark as he positioned himself by the side of the back door.

“Shit!” He threw the bolt and the door wide in one motion as he crouched low.