Likely Suspects (7 page)

I
was walking around my apartment. The drive home had been peaceful, but I was beginning to think this was the worst idea I ever had. Back out now, the voice in my head kept repeating. I did my best to ignore it and instead grabbed my go bag, which was already full of a weekend’s worth of supplies. Something I learned at the OIO, you could be whisked off at a moment’s notice, so always be prepared. I pulled out a suitcase and began to put more practical items inside: work clothes, a hairdryer, make-up, a side arm, and box of bullets. Then I unplugged the unnecessary appliances and adjusted the air conditioner, put a timer on the light in the living room, and picked up my gym bag.

With my three bags in hand
, I left my apartment for what I hoped would only be a few days. Realistically, I knew it would be a few weeks, at the very least. Our leads in the case were nonexistent. It was time we started overturning different stones or maybe just breaking a few until some answers appeared.

I drove
to Martin’s, enjoying the last few minutes of solitude. Arriving at his compound, I was once again amazed at its magnitude and architectural design. It was a large estate on the outskirts of the city, secluded from passersby and traffic by a hidden private road that led to a long driveway. The building itself was four stories; the bottom consisted of a completely finished garage that resembled an expensive car dealership’s showroom. Everything was password and key code access only. I dialed Martin’s cell phone.

“I’m ou
tside,” I said when he answered. “Can you buzz me in or something?” I needed to further analyze all of his home security measures, but first, I had to get into the house.

“Su
re, south side garage?” I glanced at the electronic compass on my dash.

“
I think so.” There was a possibility I was directionally challenged.

“Okay, be there in a minute.
”

The garage door opened
, and I was waved in by Marcal and directed into a parking space. Next to all of the expensive custom cars, my inexpensive subcompact looked painfully pathetic and homely. Marcal came around and opened my door.

“Carry your bags, Miss?” he asked in a polite tone.

“That’s okay.
I can do it.” I guess when you are born with a silver spoon in your mouth, like Martin was, it is easy to get accustomed to having help for the simplest tasks, like carrying bags.

Marcal
went back to whatever he was doing, probably standing around waiting for someone to need the garage door opened. I felt sorry for the man, but I was sure, despite all of his faults, Martin was very generous in his employees’ compensation. He had been with mine.

The door at
the top of the staircase opened, and Martin stuck his head into the garage. “Care to join the party, Miss Parker? Alex,” he corrected. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“I’m on my way.”
I headed for the staircase, but to my surprise, he descended the stairs and took the duffel and gym bag from my shoulder and carried them up. I gave him a sideways glance and followed him into the house.

Mark was inside
setting up some type of surveillance camera feed on a monitor, and he waved in my general direction, never looking up from the screen.

“Do you have a flo
or preference?” Martin asked as we passed the kitchen and living room on our way to a back staircase. I had only been in the house once and was quickly realizing how unfamiliar it was. Just another reason why this is a bad idea.

“Floor preference?” I repeated
, unsure what he meant.

He grinne
d. “Here at Chateau Martin,” he adopted a French accent, “our guests have a choice of either a second or third floor suite.”

“Doesn’t really matter
.” I wondered if he missed his life’s calling to be a bellhop or hotel concierge.

“Th
ird floor it is then.” He returned to his normal speech pattern. We went up another flight of stairs, and he showed me to the guest suite in the eastern wing. It was a large spacious room, larger than my apartment. It had a sitting room, bedroom, private bathroom, and French doors that opened onto a terrace overlooking an Infinity pool. “There are clean towels in the bathroom and under the cabinet. The bedclothes are fresh, but if you need additional pillows or blankets, they’re in the closet.” He pointed to a doorway.

“You
didn’t have to go to so much trouble. I could have slept on the couch.”

“No
nsense, you’re doing me a favor, so you should be comfortable. I’ll let you get settled, and you can meet us downstairs whenever you’re ready.” I nodded, and he left the room.

I opened the clos
et and then the drawers in the furniture. I checked out the bathroom and the cabinets. Everything was where he indicated it would be, and the rest was empty space. I took my gun out, debating whether or not I should be armed at all times, but I decided to see what Mark was setting up before I walked around the house like Rambo and stowed the gun back in the bag. I made sure the French doors were locked and pulled the curtains over the doors and windows. I didn’t like having an outside entrance or exit in my room. It didn’t seem like a great option when there were people trying to kill you or, in this case, Martin.

“That was quick,” Martin
commented as I descended the stairs.

“Well
, I didn’t think I needed to dress for dinner,” I retorted. “What are we working on?” I leaned over Mark’s shoulder to look at the screen.

“I’ve set up a constant feed on a single
screen that way all entrances and exits can be monitored. I’ve also installed a few cameras in the hallways and around the exterior, and I have the feed alternating on this monitor.” He indicated a second screen I hadn’t noticed. “I’ve set it up so Marty can wire it directly into his home security system and use the cameras as motion sensors if need be.”

“Is there a d
irect line to the home security firm or 911 dispatch?” I inquired, tapping a key to manually alternate the camera feed.

Mark looked at
Martin. “Where does your home security system direct a problem?”

“It’s a two-step process.
First, the security firm checks to make sure it wasn’t accidental, and then the police are notified.”

“ETA in the event of an
emergency?” I asked. It felt good to be in control again.

“Not
sure. They’ve promised within five minutes, but I’ve never had to use it,” Martin replied, rubbing the stubble on his chin as he thought about it.

“Ok
ay. Hopefully, we won’t have to test it out,” Mark echoed my thoughts exactly.

“I’m going to need a tour of the
house and grounds,” I piped up. “I need to know where you have security and what types of security. How many employees do you have? Maids? Cooks? Personal bodyguards? What kind of access do they have? The whole shebang.”

Martin
almost laughed. “Do I really seem that pretentious to you?”

“I’m going to a
ssume that’s rhetorical.” I refused to give him a straight answer, and he feigned being insulted. Mark laughed.

“T
here’s Marcal. He’s my go-to guy. You.” Martin was counting people off on his fingers. “There’s a cleaning lady, Rosemarie. She comes in twice a month, and Marcal let’s her in. Anyone else I’m missing?”

“You mean
there are people trying to kill you, kidnap you, or blow you up, and you don’t have any personal security?” I was annoyed by his nonchalance.

“What do you t
hink I hired you for?” Okay, so maybe he had a point, but one person was not a security detail. Plus, I wasn’t originally hired to be a twenty-four hour bodyguard either.

“
Decoration?” I suggested. “Had I known, I would have recommended hiring full-time bodyguards. Some big burly men with names like Bruiser, Brawler, and Killer.”

“Brawler an
d Killer were busy.” He smirked. “Plus, you’re much smarter and a lot easier on the eyes.” I glared at him.

“Ok
ay, kids, play nice,” Mark interrupted our argument. “Let’s take a tour of the house, see what blind spots we might have missed, if there are any doors ajar or windows open.” He stood between us.

“Oh.
” Martin grabbed a tablet off the table. “We can bring this along, mobile version of the monitors. Watch ourselves walk the perimeter.” He seemed like a kid wanting to play cops and robbers once again.

Over the next two hours
, I got a very detailed view of the entire estate, inside and out. Martin’s sleeping quarters and private office were on the fourth floor.  He also had French doors with a balcony, but being that high up wouldn’t pose too much of a risk, I hoped.

The security system and
additional cameras Mark set up did a decent job covering the grounds. Each entrance was keypad and card required. It made sense why Martin never felt the need for more personal security or staff; his house was well protected. Any unwanted entry would be loudly announced, and the police would be called.

Mark assured me
Rosemarie and Marcal were on the level, and both had worked for Martin for at least a decade. Once we were all satisfied the compound was secure and I was familiar enough not to wander into the garden while looking for the bathroom, we returned to the second floor.

“E
verything’s set. I’ll try to get some of my guys to patrol around or at least drive by periodically to make sure everything is okay,” Mark reassured us. “Plus, you’ve got Alex here. She’s like a pit bull, only scarier.”

“Gee
, thanks.”

“It’s been a long
day. Things are as secure as they can be, at least for now. I would stay to keep an eye out, but I’ve got to get back to work. We were in the middle of planning an op when I got the message about the explosion. I will check in with you in the morning,” Mark promised.

“No problem.
I’m sorry I kept you this long, Jabber.” Martin extended his hand.

“
Not a problem. Catch you tomorrow.”

After Mark left, Martin turned to me.
“Alex, can I interest you in some dinner?” He seemed to deflate slightly as he slumped into a chair. I could tell the events of today were weighing on him, and he had been going nonstop since it all began.

“Sit down, relax.”
I got up and went into the kitchen. “I can probably scrounge something up for both of us.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he prot
ested.

“Don’t get used to it.
Just because I’m pretending to be your girlfriend doesn’t mean I’m going to start cooking or cleaning for you, not on a regular basis anyway. But today things blew up, literally, so I got this.”

“Okay.”
We had a lot to discuss, but tonight, neither of us was up for it.

I awoke with a start.
There was someone in the room. I heard a noise. My thinking was garbled, and I grabbed my gun from the table and pointed it directly at the cause of the sound as I tried to blink the sleep from my eyes.

“Don’t shoot, it’s just me,” Martin
responded in a soothing voice, his hands slightly raised. He was wearing swimming trunks and nothing else.

“What are you doing?
What time is it?” My brain wasn’t functioning. Where was I? How did I get here? I thought back. Last night, after dinner, I stayed downstairs on the couch, checking out the surveillance feed and trying to work out new leads. I had gotten my handgun, just in case. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“I’m sorry
. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologized. “I didn’t know you were down here. You know you really didn’t have to sleep on the couch. I gave you the guestroom for a reason.” He was still frozen in place. “Can you put the gun down?”

“Sorry.”
I felt hungover even though I didn’t drink the night before. My brain and body were both sluggish. I clicked the safety on and put the gun down. “What are you doing?”

“Just going for an early morning swim before work,” he replied as if this was simply what he did every morning.
Maybe it was.

I rubbed my eyes.
“You’re going to work? I assumed after yesterday you were giving everyone the rest of the week off. Today is Friday, after all. It could have been a nice three day weekend.” We should have discussed some things last night.

“I told everyone to use their best judgment when deciding to come to work today.
If they took the day off, they would still be paid, given the traumatic events of yesterday. But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to show up. I’m in charge, and I have to put on a brave face.”

“But you’re the face
they were trying to blow up.”

“Can’t let the bad guys wi
n,” he replied matter-of-factly, heading for the sliding door. I got up and followed him outside. The sun was barely even over the horizon. It was definitely too early to be awake, let alone arguing. I sat down on one of the chaise lounges as he got into the pool. “Care to join me?”

“No.
I’m attempting to be your bodyguard. I want to make sure no one is out here with the intent to drown you.”

“Looks all clear to me.”
He glanced around the enclosed pool area.

“Good.”
That was enough conversation for this early in the morning. I fought the urge to sleep, but eventually, I gave in and dozed on the chair until the splashing stopped. I opened one eye and watched him exit the pool and grab a towel. I had to admit it wasn’t necessarily a bad sight to wake up to.

*       *       *

Martin and I were riding to the MT building together in the back of his town car. He was reading the newspaper and ignoring me.

“What’s so important
that you need to go to work today?” I asked. He slowly folded the paper and placed it neatly on his lap, giving me his full attention.

“I have an acquisition meeting this morning
, and the Board and I are set to meet this afternoon to discuss yesterday’s events.”

“Fine, but I’m foll
owing you around all day. Maybe yesterday was just a warning or perhaps another failed attempt. Either way, I’m sure they will be back. The longer this goes on, the more desperate they will become.” He needed to realize I was speaking from experience and not being overly dramatic. He considered my point for a few moments.

“How’s your
note-taking?” he finally asked, and I gave him a deadpan look.

“I suppose it should be sufficient.”
I knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Wonderful.
” He smiled slightly, picked up his paper, and resumed reading. I gave the paper a dirty look and continued to sit quietly for the rest of the ride.

Marcal dropped
us off in front of the building instead of in the garage. The crime scene tape still surrounded much of the sidewalk, and a few police officers were loitering about. The damaged front door was replaced with cardboard, and security was beefed up inside. Instead of being greeted by the laidback Jeffrey Myers, metal detectors and an employee ID scanner were installed at the doors. Two armed guards were standing by, and there were a few local LEOs in the lobby.

“You set all this in motion yesterday?” I whis
pered.

“I’m more than just
a pretty face.” Martin swiped his card through the scanner and headed through the metal detector.

“Um, Mr. Martin,” I stammered.
I was carrying today, and the metal detector would loudly take note of this fact.

“Right this way, M
iss Parker.”

I swiped my card and began
to approach the metal detector wearily. “I’m not sure these things agree with me.” I was trying to tip him off, but he just stood there, smirking like a Cheshire cat. I walked through the metal detector and nothing happened. Great, it’s broken. What was the point of having a metal detector if it didn’t even work properly? We continued to the elevators, and once the doors closed, allowing a moment of privacy, I spoke up.

“Your metal detector is broken.”
He laughed.

“No, it’s work
ing just fine. I had the computer programmed to disable metal detection temporarily after certain IDs are swiped.” I thought about this for a moment. It seemed practical, but at the same time, it left gaps in the security system.

“N
ot a good idea. It leaves loopholes. You need to get that changed.” He shrugged noncommittally. Martin and his damn unilateral decisions, I wanted to hit him.

The doors opened on the
seventeenth floor, and Detective O’Connell stood waiting in the hallway. “Mr. Martin. Ms. Parker,” he greeted us, and I gave him a weary look.

“What can I do for you?” Martin asked as he swiped his card and opened his office door.
“Please.” He held the door for the detective to enter, and I followed the men inside.

“We’ve identified the cause of the explosion,” O’Connell stated.
“It was a small incendiary device, similar to a pipe bomb, with a remote detonator. The device was fairly simplistic, and the radio detonator needed to be within a two hundred foot radius. The bomb squad believes it must have had a few seconds delay from the time the detonator switch was flipped until the bomb actually exploded.”

“You think the
sun glare I saw was from the bomber?” I half-asked, half-stated.

“We do.
Our crime scene guys recovered a lens on the sixth floor balcony, most likely from a binocular or monocular. The bomber was probably lying in wait. Do you normally follow the same routine?” O’Connell asked Martin.

“More or less,
at least during business hours.”

“I see.
” O’Connell frowned.

“How much of a lag between the switch and the explosion?
Do you think the delay was due to the distance and radio frequency transmitter or intentional to make getting away easier?” I asked.

“No way to know for sure,” O’Connell said.
“Either seems to be a reasonable explanation.” I bit my lip, thinking. “I’d like to advise you to lie low for a while, Mr. Martin. Stay out of the public eye. Maybe take a vacation. It’s reasonable to assume the hotdog stand exploding was meant for you. We are still investigating other avenues just to make sure, but…,” he trailed off.

“Thank you for the concern, Detectiv
e, but I will be just fine,” Martin said curtly, and the detective headed for the door.

“O’Connell,” I called, and h
e turned on his heel, “any suspects?”

“Sorry, I’m not at liberty to discuss an ongoing investigation.”
I sighed. I hate the company line, especially since he had already thoroughly discussed certain aspects of the investigation. “Have a good day.” 

“Did Mark cal
l this morning?” I asked as Martin settled in behind his desk, looking for the materials he needed for his morning meeting.

“Huh?”
He looked confused. I was amazed at how quickly he could lose himself in business.

“Mark.
Did he call?”

“Not that I
know of.” He returned to tapping away at his keyboard.

I
hit the top of his desk lightly with my palm to get his attention. “I am going to my office for a minute to check on some things and give Mark a call. Do not go to your meeting without me. Understand?” I felt like I was talking to a child.

“Okay.”

I
went to my office and opened the door. Then I unlocked my drawer and made sure my side arm and bullets were still secure. Maybe I was a tad bit obsessive. I fished my cell phone out of my purse and called Mark’s office. When the call went straight to voicemail, I tried his cell phone. After five rings, he answered.

“What?” he mumbled into the receiver.
It sounded like he had been asleep.

“Any news?”

“Parker, do you realize what time it is?”

“It’s mo
rning. You said you’d talk to us in the morning.”

“Cute,” h
e replied, sounding disgusted. “How ‘bout I come by in a couple of hours? We’ll talk then.”

“Thanks, sweetie.
” If he thought I was being cute, I might as well go with it. I heard him mumble something about a sarcastic bitch and then hang up the phone. I was on my way to Martin’s office when he met me in the doorway, legal pad and pen in hand.

“Let
’s go acquire some acquisitions.” He beamed brightly, seeming somewhat manic, but I followed him silently to the elevator.

Despite the fact
I had traversed the building numerous times over the last week, I had never seen the Marketing/Research floor this empty. Apparently most employees decided it was better to stay home with their loved ones than go to work where bombs might ruin their lunch hour. Martin led us into a large conference room equipped with a flat screen television mounted to the wall.

“Blake Denton, meet my…,” he
paused uncertainly.

“Alexis Parker.
” I introduced myself.

“Mr. Denton is our vice p
resident. He’s in charge of foreign acquisitions,” Martin said.

“
Pleasure to meet you, Miss Parker.” Denton gave my hand a slight squeeze. “I heard you were both very close to the accident yesterday. I’m glad you’re okay. It’s disconcerting.  No wonder so few workers came in today.” He seemed to be talking to neither of us, and I suspected he might be a bit shell-shocked.

“I gave
everyone the option of having the day off. I didn’t want to further traumatize anybody in the wake of such unfortunate events,” Martin said sympathetically. “I’m glad to see you didn’t abandon me today, too.” He winked at Denton. “You know how cunning our colleagues in Dubai are.”

“We’re in negotiation to
open some manufacturing and processing plants in the Middle East.” Denton was trying to catch me up to speed. “It will be highly lucrative for both MT and our foreign partners, if we get approval for the acquisition.”

“Alex
is here to take notes for us today,” Martin interjected. “I figured we might be short a few assistants.”

Denton
grinned. “Have a seat then. We’re just waiting for them to call.”

I spent the next hour and a half attempt
ing to take notes on things I didn’t understand. Hopefully, Martin and Denton were paying attention. After the call was over, Martin and I returned to his office.

“Has Mr. Denton received any threats
?” I asked.

“Not that
I’m aware of.”

“I
just figured since he’s a board member and VP, if this was company related, maybe he had gotten some threats, too.” I was pulling at straws, but it was another angle to consider.

“I think I’m the o
nly lucky son-of-a-bitch here,” he said bitterly.