Likely Suspects (8 page)

As promised, Mark showed up a little before lunchtime. “Place seems like a ghost town,” he announced, taking a seat in Martin’s office. “It’s still a good thing you have the enhanced security, just in case.”

“A
ny news?” I was impatient.

“
O’Connell called this morning, a little while after you did. He passed along a casualty list, some bomb specifications, but nothing in terms of persons of interest,” he said matter-of-factly.

“How many?”
I asked, even though I really didn’t want to know.

“
Two. The hotdog vendor and a woman. She seems random. Doesn’t work at MT, no connection to Marty I’m aware of. Probably just wrong place, wrong time.”

I felt
awful. I hated to think people had died, especially since I should have stopped this from happening in the first place. I felt sick to my stomach.

“What was he
r name?” Martin asked, concern evident in his voice.

Mark pulled out his notepad and flipped through a few pages. “Jillian
Monroe,” he read as I watched Martin’s expression carefully for any sign of recognition.

“Never heard of he
r,” Martin confirmed. “Poor woman. The hotdog vendor, too.” He was solemn and looked exactly how I felt. It was obvious we both felt responsible for these deaths.

“The two of you
need to remember you didn’t do this.” Mark focused on me. “You are going to help track down this motherfucker. You got it?”

“Damn straight.
”

“Okay
, good.” Mark was acting as cheerleader today. He probably thought we could use it since it felt like we were on the losing team. Unfortunately, from my score sheet, we were the losing team. “I’m going back to work, but I’ll come by tonight to bring some things I think you can both use.” He looked at Martin. “And you, sir, need to consider taking a break until we get some things straightened out, or at the very least, start wearing your bullet-resistant suits. You had those custom-made for a reason.”

Martin hedged.
“I’ll think about it. I had some important meetings today, and I didn’t want to come in looking sub-par.” I gaped at him. Could he be this shallow? “See you tonight, Jabber.” Martin walked him to the door, and I waved to Mark as he left.

But
as soon as the door was shut, I dove in head first. “You and your unilateral decisions can kiss my ass.” I turned on him like a rabid dog. “You will start taking precautions, and you
will
take some time off. You can tell the Board today when you meet with them. Your security consultant insists.”

“Yo
u work for me,” he snarled.

“Yes,
but let me make one thing perfectly clear. If you don’t listen, I can walk away. No one is trying to kill me, and quite frankly, I don’t want to get shot because I’m standing too close to you.” I wasn’t being completely fair. I was taking the two deaths out on him, but I didn’t care. He was still playing games, and he needed to realize just how serious this matter was.

“So go,” he growled.
We were standing inches apart.

“Un-fucking-believable.
” I was prepared to leave but stopped myself and turned back. “Your business means more to you than your life?”

“It’s
all I have.”

“
Get over yourself. You are a living, breathing, human being, at least for the moment, and if all of this came crashing down tomorrow, you would still be the same person.” He didn’t respond, and I expected death rays to shoot from his eyes.

“No.
I wouldn’t. I would be nothing,” he said in a low bitter tone as he went back to his desk, trying to busy himself with work. I stormed out of the office, slamming the door.

“Narcissistic prick.
” I wasn’t going to leave, but staying and fighting wasn’t helping either of us. I had a job to do, and despite my better judgment, I planned to see it through until the end. I stomped back to my office where I sat smoldering for a couple of minutes. Finally, I opened my door and sat down on the couch, staring across the hallway at him. He was behind his desk working as if nothing had just transpired. I half-expected him to call security and have me removed from the building. However, that would have been bad for business, and business was obviously the only thing he was capable of thinking about.

After twenty minutes
, he grabbed his portfolio and opened his office door. “Let’s go, the Board is waiting.” He wasn’t asking. He was ordering, and I didn’t say a word.

I
grabbed a pad and pen and followed him to the elevator. We rode in silence, neither of us acknowledging the other. I followed him down the hall to yet another conference room. There were ten people assembled around the rectangular table. I recognized Blake Denton, but he was the only one.

I was going to take a seat in the back
of the room, where the other assistants were gathered, but Martin put his hand on my arm. I looked up, confused. He was no longer acting as if I was a total stranger, but I could see the anger still resonating in his eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen
of the Board, I need to make an announcement,” he began. “As you are all aware, recently I have received numerous threats. Yesterday’s explosion, while still under investigation, may have been intended for me.” He took a breath and stared into my eyes, looking for reassurance. “Therefore, I think it is in the best interest of our employees that I take a vacation or sabbatical, if you will, until this situation is resolved.”

S
ome of the board members had questions, but he continued speaking, ignoring them. “I discussed the issue with my security consulting firm, and they agreed it would be wise for the situation to be resolved before anyone else is endangered. I trust you are all capable of running the company for the next few weeks in my absence.”

“What about the Dubai acquisition?” a woman asked.

“Blake and I had the meeting this morning.
I think they are ready to sign, but I will still be close by if issues should arise. In the meantime, I will appoint Mr. Denton as acting Chair until further notice.” Martin waited for additional questions.

“Why are you leaving now?
Things have been going on for weeks, and we don’t even know yet if the food cart explosion had anything to do with you? It might have all been an accident,” Denton argued, trying to get him to stay. That was one hell of a friend, I thought, or perhaps he was afraid of screwing up if he was left with the keys to the castle.

Martin’s expression was forlorn.
“My girlfriend, Alexis,” he wrapped his arm around my waist, and I resisted the urge to beat him to death with it, “has been filling in as my personal assistant, and yesterday, if it hadn’t been for her, we might both have been hurt or worse. It’s time I take these matters more seriously for everyone’s sake. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt or killed on my account.”

“Mr. Martin,” an older
, balding man addressed him now, “what about the banquet?”

He
pondered this for a moment. “I will contact legal and have the papers drawn up for Mr. Denton to temporarily replace me, but I am still planning to attend the banquet. Our charity work is very important, and nothing should detract from it. Afterward, I will hold a press conference announcing my sabbatical in hopes of helping to insulate the company from any further threats.”

Another woman spoke up. “W
e shall take a vote. Those in favor of temporarily placing Mr. Denton as acting Chair until Mr. Martin’s return say aye.” Everyone agreed; Denton slightly begrudgingly. I couldn’t tell if it was for show or if he honestly had reservations.

“Good.
I’m glad everything is settled. Now, if you’ll excuse us, it’s been a rough day.” Martin led me out of the room and to the elevators. “Later,” he whispered, and I remained silent for fear someone would overhear what I had to say. As we stood waiting for the elevator to arrive, Denton came down the corridor.

“James, hang on,” he called, rushing to get to us.
“Are you sure about this? I’ve never been in charge of quite so much before.”

“You’ll be fine, Blake.”
Martin patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve got the entire Board to back you. Come by my office in an hour and you can sign the paperwork.”

“See you the
n, sir,” he said respectfully. “It was lovely meeting you, Alexis. I’m glad James found someone to make him realize there is more to life than just work.” I tried to look coy, but I wasn’t sure how well I conveyed false emotions. It wasn’t easy to feign romance when murder was on my mind. Luckily, the elevator provided an escape from the awkwardness.

“An hour, don’t be late.
It wouldn’t look good for the acting Chair,” Martin teased as the doors closed, and we began our ascent back to the seventeenth floor.

“Are you out of your f
ucking mind?” I asked as the elevator began rising. I hit the stop button, and we were halted between floors.

“I must be
to do exactly what you told me to do.” I resisted the urge to slap him across the face.

“I
f you agreed, you could have said so ahead of time instead of blindsiding me, especially with the announcement about your girlfriend.” I used air quotes. I was pissed because this asshole just slapped a target on my back, but I didn’t want to say it. I knew it was a possibility when I signed on to the job.

“Sorry
, sweetheart,” he spat, “but you got what you wanted, so be happy about it.” He hit the resume button, and we continued to the seventeenth floor. “I could lose everything doing this. So get off your high horse and do your goddamn job.” He stomped to his office while I remained in the elevator, stunned.

Was I being
completely unreasonable? Oh, that manipulative son-of-a-bitch. The doors started to close, and I shoved them aside and went straight to my office to call Mark.

“I need everything you have on
those ex-employees. I also need you to cross-reference anyone suspicious with any type of gang or criminal organizations. Check out drug and arms dealers working near Dubai. If there is any connection to anything or anyone, I need to know. It’s a long shot, but I want to get this job over with before I shoot the bastard myself.”

I sat in my office, rubbing my temples. The fighting needed to stop, especially before I killed Martin. The main reason I was angry at him was because I was angry at myself. Two innocent people died because I was sitting around playing secretary and babysitter instead of tracking down leads. Sure, Martin was eccentric, he didn’t listen, and he could go from serious to teasing at a moment’s notice. I knew this when I took the job, but I still took it. That was my mistake.

Perhaps I was also afraid
the little voice in the back of my head telling me I had no idea what I was doing was right. I didn’t have any idea what I was doing; if I did, things would be different now. Although, thoughts like this led the other little voice inside my head to point out if I wasn’t here, or if I didn’t know what I was doing, Martin would be a chalk outline of some goo on the pavement. I sighed audibly and put my head on my desk. If only all the voices in my head could just get along. I laughed at the absurdity. I must be clinically insane.

I sat up in my chair and turned on the computer
, clicking open on the company e-mail and selecting Martin as my contact. “I’m waving the white flag. Can I come over?” I typed the message and hit send. It was incredibly childish, but I couldn’t blame him any longer. And I was too proud to apologize in person. He responded immediately.

“Cease fire accepted
,” his message read. I took a deep breath. Be calm, try to understand, and resist the urge to argue. I repeated these things a few times before opening my office door and going across the hall.

He
buzzed me in, and I sat on the couch closest to his desk and watched as he worked. Checking the time, Denton was going to be here in a few minutes.

He
glanced up at my still form. “Nice to see you back to work.”

“I’m sorry
this is the only way I know to keep you safe,” I muttered. That was as close to an apology as he was going to get. We locked eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then decided against it and went back to reading the forms for temporarily signing over his company.

“I guess you can be the witness.
” He stared at the paper. “Someone from legal is coming up to notarize it, but it’s good form to have a third party witness the event.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe you could also play the part of doting girl
friend when Denton’s up here. It might help sell the fact you aren’t my added security.”

“Sure.”

“Look.” He dropped the paper on the desk and was about to say something, but there was a knock on the door. We both turned at the intrusion. “Never mind,” he mumbled as he changed the glass from opaque to clear and buzzed in Denton and someone else, presumably from legal.

The papers were signed
, and all the formalities were completed rather quickly. “Let’s toast to your temporary job,” Martin said jovially, going to the wet bar and pouring some scotch into two glasses for himself and Denton.

Denton
picked up a glass. “No,” he raised it in the air, “to returning to your rightful position as quickly as possible.” They clinked glasses together, and Martin turned to look at me. I was leaning against his desk, playing with the hem on my jacket.

“I’m sorry
, Alex.” This was his way of apologizing. “What would you like?”

“Nothing, dear.
” I beamed at him. The sweetness factor was going to give me cavities; I was sure of it.

“C’mon
, Alexis,” Denton was pouring liquor into a glass, “drink with us, at least to the good fortune of having Jimmy around more. I know it must be tough being in a relationship with such a workaholic.”

“It is tough.
” I walked over to the men, eyeing Martin, and Denton handed me the drink he had just poured.

“To us,”
Martin toasted, clinking his glass with mine.

“I’m going to leave the two of you alone, but if you n
eed anything, man, let me know.” Denton was almost to the door when Martin spoke up.

“Just so you know, the o
ffice doesn’t come with the job.” He grinned, trying to convey it was all in good fun.

“
No problem. I already have a nice office,” Denton said as he left.

“So, Jimmy,” I couldn’t resist, “are we okay with this arrangement?”

“As long as you never call me Jimmy again.”

“Deal.”
He didn’t want to fight anymore either, and what was done was done. It was time to move on and wrap this thing up so we could both get back to our lives. 

We
spent the rest of the afternoon packing up anything he deemed essential or private. I went to my office and retrieved my laptop, notes, and handgun since the cleaning staff didn’t need to think I was part of the threat.

It was before four
when we walked out of the MT building. The police were still in the lobby and patrolling the area out front. It would probably be a few more days before they were gone, and then it would be as if nothing happened at all. Marcal brought the car around, and we got in and rode back to Martin’s compound in silence.

*       *       *

A few hours later, Mark arrived with a truckload of equipment. He had some surveillance cameras, flak jackets, a shotgun, box of shells, and motion sensors.

“What did you do?
Raid the supply van?” I asked as he unceremoniously dumped the equipment across the dining room table.

“It’s nothing
we needed. We’ve updated our equipment since you were there, and I thought you could use some hand-me-downs on loan, of course.”

“Of course,
” I mimicked, breaking down the shotgun to make sure it wasn’t loaded.

“I figured
we could set up some more cameras or sensors in those blind spots we found the other day, just to make things more secure.”

“Great.
” Martin seemed less than excited. “I love feeling like I live in a fishbowl.” Mark ignored him and began hauling a camera and mounting equipment to the western exit. Martin and I exchanged a look.

“You want to help or should I?” I asked.

“I’ll go. I need to make sure he doesn’t set up surveillance in my bedroom or bathroom. I don’t need some random sex tapes hitting the internet.” He seemed so sincere I just stared at him, trying to determine if he was kidding or not.

“I wouldn’t advise having any
guests over, at least until this is straightened out.” I chose serious, which was obviously the wrong choice. He looked at me like I was insane.

“You ever heard
a joke before?” I didn’t comment, and he went to find Mark.

I took the shotgun and
box of shells and placed them in the kitchen. The box of shells went under the kitchen sink and the gun on top of the cabinets. I wanted them within reach but not any place overly obvious or in the way. I would have to remember to tell Martin to inform Rosemarie before she came to clean. If not, she might have an unpleasant surprise. The flak jackets I hung in the coat closet on the second floor near the stairs.

I went out to check on the guys.
Mark was on a ladder, and Martin was handing him various tools. “You got a handle on this?” I hoped they wouldn’t want help.

“Yea
h, we got it covered,” Mark responded. Before he could ask for anything else, I continued.

“I’m going
to check into some things. Can you keep an eye out?”

“Yeah,
we’ll manage while you’re gone,” Mark replied.

“Okay, I’ll be back later.
”

“Take the remote
access key,” Martin said as I reached the door. “It’s in the crystal bowl on the counter. It’ll get you in and out of the garage.” I retrieved the remote and took my car back to my apartment.

*       *       *

“Feels good to be home.” I took my notes out and began to re-evaluate the detailed logs I had on employees. I was looking for anyone with criminal connections who would have the knowhow to make a bomb. As far as motivation went, I was still stumped. Maybe they, whoever they were, didn’t like Martin for personal reasons or perhaps the Dubai acquisition was motivation enough to threaten him. Anything could be motive, especially when dealing with irrational people, and irrational people were the ones most likely to make bombs or shoot up a place.

T
he employee files I had were limited. MT employed people of all races and ethnic backgrounds, none of which struck me as particularly radical or having obvious gang or terrorist ties. I looked for anyone with potential organized crime connections. Still no luck. Finally, I considered who might have dealings with weapons or drug trafficking. This, of course, was a much more difficult avenue to pursue. Did I have any ATF or DEA friends who owed me a favor? My brain was being sluggish. I could feel a thought gnawing at the corners of my mind, but it just wouldn’t surface. It felt like I was trying to think my way through quicksand.

“This is ridiculous,
” I said to my empty room. “Think, Parker,” I commanded my brain to function. I ran through the list of things I knew: threatening letter, kidnapping attempt, manufacturing sabotage, a bomb. All of it happened near work or at work. The letters weren’t sent to Martin’s residence. The kidnapping and the explosion both happened outside MT. Was it someone with a beef with the company or a beef with Martin?

They don’t know where he lives.
The thought flashed across my mind like lightning. Obviously, I didn’t know this for a fact, but it would make more sense to attack someone at a private residence than in broad daylight in front of potentially hundreds of witnesses. I grabbed the dry erase note board I kept on my fridge and scribbled out the thought. Another thought struck me. Unless the attacks are supposed to be in public to scare Martin into stepping down from his job. Maybe isolate him at home and finish him off. Too much speculation on my part. I went back to the original thought; they didn’t know where he lived.

I started back over.
Everything’s been at work. I was sitting on my bed now, and I lay against the pillows. I missed my pillow and the comfort of my own bed. Okay, everything happened at work. Can the motive be work related? The only work related thing I was aware of was the Dubai acquisition. Evidently, there must be more going on than just one acquisition. I needed to ask what other big projects were in the works at MT. I added that to my note board before closing my eyes to try to clear my head. 

Opening
my eyes, I glanced at the digital clock on my nightstand. “Dammit,” I swore and got out of bed. I had fallen asleep. These late nights and early mornings were counterproductive. I picked up my note board and everything I brought with me, locked my apartment, and drove back to Martin’s compound. It was a little after one a.m., and I hoped Mark was still filling in as bodyguard and wasn’t too pissed about the inconvenience.

I arr
ived at Martin’s quickly, given the almost nonexistent traffic, and I used the remote to pull into the garage. I shut the door and took the steps up to the main level two at a time. I didn’t see Mark’s car and suspected he must have left for the night. The house was dark, and I was paranoid about tripping some new unforeseen security measure. But no alarms blared as I entered the living room. The table lamp was on, and Martin was sitting on the couch. His arm was outstretched over the back of the sofa, a half empty glass in his hand and an almost empty bottle of single malt on the coffee table.

“Sorry, I was checking on
some things and lost track of time. Did Mark leave?”

“S’okay,” he
slurred. He tilted his drink-holding hand, as if to examine his watch, and spilled the contents onto the couch cushion. “What time is it?” In his intoxicated state, he was unable to focus or notice the spilled drink.

“I think it’s time fo
r you to get some sleep.”

“No.
” He looked up with those green eyes, reminding me of a wounded animal. “I’m going to finish my drink first.” He put the glass on the table and poured the rest of the bottle into it. I sat down on the non-soppy cushion and figured I’d wait him out.

“
Y’know what?” he slurred, his tone semi-angry. “They already fucking won.”

I really didn’t like
drunken people, but when running low on sodium pentothal, drunk could be helpful in finding out some truths. Although, I would have preferred a quiet night of him sleeping and me staring at the surveillance feed, especially after our fight earlier.

“Who?”
I tentatively asked.

“Whoever.
” He took a sip. “The faceless, letter writing, hotdog bombing bastards, and I liked those hotdogs, too.” I swallowed, trying to avoid focusing on the casualties. We sat sullenly for a moment.

“We’re going to stop them.
” I didn’t want to go into details and start asking questions when he was in this state; it was enough trouble trying to get him to focus and stay on topic when he was sober.