Armed With Steele (30 page)

“Oh!” Her hand flew up to the delicate instrument hooked over her right ear. “I-I’m so sorry, Michael. I’ll…I’ll go get a fresh pair of double A’s right now.”

She scurried out of the room, leaving me to wonder what the hell an Aardvark password was, and why she’d picked now of all times to start asking about Orange Financial.

* * * *

“And after he showed me how to process the invoices, Michael walked me back to the gold mine.”

“The gold mine?”

Nate threw me a confused look, then shifted his gaze to the oven door. He pulled it open just enough to sneak a peek at the frozen pizza he’d brought over. Neither one of us had had much time to prepare anything after work, and we were both sick of carry-out.

“Yeah. It’s the main filing room. Where every document that has to do with billing is stored on site…for a minimum of seven years.”

A devilish grin spread across his face. “And were you able to spend much time exploring this goldmine of information?”

“Not yet. Michael was there with me the entire time today.” The aroma of oven-baked pizza started to tease my nose—dinner wasn’t long off. I crossed the room to grab plates from the cupboard. “But you’d better damn well believe I’m going to find a way to get back in there tomorrow.”

Nate chuckled and pulled on an oven mitt. “Damn, I love it when you talk like that.”

* * * *

I woke early Friday morning. Had a certain storage room calling my name. Only, I still wasn’t sure how to access it without being seen by Michael’s over-observant secretary—the one who always seemed to pop up when I was in the middle of something.

By the time I stepped out of the shower, I’d come to a conclusion: it was time to try the stairs again.

I pulled into Maxwell’s lot thirty-five minutes before the start of my shift and took my usual parking spot in the back row. Then I boogied inside. A quick scan of the lobby found no witnesses of my early arrival. I breathed a sigh of relief, and walked at a quick clip down the side hall.

Soon I was past the elevator bank. When I reached the stairwell door, I stopped. Surely no one would be taking the stairs this early in the morning, would they?

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open a few inches. Listened.

Silence.

With a second sigh of relief, I stepped inside. Maybe my luck was finally starting to turn around. I climbed the first section of stairs to the landing in between floors, paused to tuck my car keys into my purse, then started on the last flight of stairs.

The door up ahead opened and I froze in my tracks. Even in the stairwell’s dim lighting I could tell my visitor’s tailor-made suit was pressed to perfection. As he began his descent, I took in his carefully styled hair, steel gray eyes and red power tie.

It was Milo Finnegan, and Vanessa had described him to a tee.

I gripped my purse tight and pulled it higher up onto my shoulder. High enough that my fingers touched the pendant hanging from my necklace. This time I would be ready.

Mr. Finnegan slowed his pace as he reached the landing, then stopped, blocking my path. “Good morning. I…I don’t believe we’ve met.” He extended his right hand. “I’m Milo Finnegan, the Human Resources director.”

“Good morning, Mr. Finnegan,” I said with a nod. Let go of my purse to extend my hand as well. “You’re right, I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to meet yet. I’m Jessica. Jessica Hartley.”

A smile, smooth as silk, appeared on his lips and he took my hand in his. “Ah, Michael’s new AA.” He gave me a quick, full, once-over. Then he drew my hand up to those same lips and kissed the back of it. “So glad to have you aboard, Miss Hartley.” Steel gray eyes flashed up to mine under cover of a thick set of dark lashes.

Was this what Grace had to put up with every time she took the stairs? I resisted the urge to yank my hand away from him. No matter how badly I wanted to scurry away or find some hand sanitizer,
stat
, I needed to stay and play the role I’d promised to play.

So instead I batted my eyes and smiled back. “Why, thank you, Mr. Finnegan.”

His right eyebrow flickered, and his smile grew a fraction. “Please forgive me, I’ve a meeting to attend. But I do so look forward to seeing you around.”

With that, he kissed my hand once more, released it, and continued on his way. I exhaled a long, shaky breath. No more taking the stairs. Not even if the freaking building caught fire—I’d rather jump than risk this stairwell again.

When I got my wits about me, I scrambled up the remaining steps to the second floor. My exchange with Milo had eaten up some of my precious minutes, so time was now of the essence. I reached the second floor, slid out the stairwell door, and crept toward the hallway.

No one in sight. No voices detected. I walked in stealth mode the dozen or so steps to the storage room and ducked inside.

Row upon row of filing cabinets greeted me, oh glory day. But their cold, steel faces offered no indication as to where I should look first. I wove among them, looking for the cabinet I’d filed my papers in the day before. Grace hadn’t been gone long—if I was filing in there, chances were good that she’d filed there as well.

Three rows back and two to the right, I found the cabinet. I stood on tiptoe to peek over the top toward the door. The coast was still clear.

I grasped the drawer handle in my right hand, pushed the metal button beside it in with my thumb to release the locking mechanism, and pulled the drawer open. It squeaked under the strain of its contents. I cringed. Waited. Heard no one coming.

So I continued to pull the drawer open. Folder labels began to pop into view.

August. September. October.

Footsteps entered the storage room. “Any luck?”

I froze. My eyes lasered to the aisle way, expecting to be caught red-handed. But no one was there.

“No,” Vanessa grumbled. “I’ve tried everything I can think of. You’re the IT guy, can’t you figure it out?”

“I told you, I don’t have clearance for that.” There was a certain degree of malice in the mystery man’s tone. “You broke it,
you
fix it.”

“You know damn well that wasn’t my fault,” she hissed.

My arm holding the drawer open started to go numb. If I let go, it would slide shut on its own. But I had to do something, so I switched hands, not thinking such a simple act would make any noise.

I was wrong.

The drawer creaked. I held my breath and waited.

“Did you hear something?”

Trapped. My heart began to race. If Mr. IT decided to come take a look, they’d know I’d heard everything. And Vanessa would surely ask what I was doing here in the first place. But a new voice interrupted their conversation. A voice from the hallway.

“A package arrived for you, Miss Smith.”

“Thank you,
Lauren
. Just…put it on my desk, will you?”

“No can do, ma’am. This one has to be signed for.”

“Fine.” Vanessa’s quick footsteps stormed away from the entrance of the room, followed by a shorter, quieter stride.

That left one pair of feet unaccounted for: mystery IT guy’s. I held my breath and listened. Was he still there? Had he gone?

The squeak of a shoe, not yet broken in, echoed off the filing cabinets. And another. And another.

Sweat formed on my brow. What would I say? What excuse could I use?

Another squeak, closer yet.

Vanessa’s harsh whisper suddenly rang out. “Matthew?”

Matthew? So my stairwell bully was Vanessa’s mystery visitor after all. And he was about to have me cornered once more. Panic flowed freely through my veins at the thought.

The footsteps resumed, but in the opposite direction and at a more normal pace now. Relief washed over me.

“Look, I’ll keep trying downstairs. But he’s not happy with me for how it ended last time. Just…try to do some work on your end, alright?”

They walked off, so after a few seconds I deemed it safe to let the drawer slide shut. It clicked into place, and I listened for any approaching footsteps. But only silence greeted my ears, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

That’d been close.
Too
close. Next time I’d have to be more careful.

I glanced down at my watch. 8:01.

So much for my investigation.

Chapter 23

“So, how are things going?”

I was sitting in the kitchenette across from Lauren once more. Half my morning had been spent on customer callbacks, which sucked, and the other half with Michael learning more about the new financial software, which fried my brain. So while I knew I should be listening for clues, at the moment all I really wanted to do was eat lunch and decompress.

“Good. Learning tons.”

Lauren popped a cherry tomato into her mouth. “Awesome,” she said, chewing as she spoke.

I had to look away. That’s when I noticed Nerd A and B in line for the microwave openly staring at me. I threw them both a nasty look and turned back to my lunch. Oh, how I longed for the solitude of my kitchen table.

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of mail that’s come through this week.”

Nor do I really care.
“Oh?”

She began rambling about how busy she’d been, and I pretended to listen. Lauren seemed nice enough, but I really didn’t want to get sucked into any Maxwell drama with her. Before her story ended, though, I got a lucky break—my cell phone vibrated in my pocket.

I checked the number. Grace’s mom. “I…need to take this.” I stood and looked around, trying to identify a safe place for the conversation.

“The stairwell,” Lauren whispered, pointing to the door at the back of the room.

Not exactly my favorite place, but what choice did I have? I gave her a thumbs-up and hurried through the door.

“Hello?”

“Jessica? It’s Mrs. Sullivan. Did I catch you at a good time?”

“Oh, hi! Yes, yes you caught me at a perfectly fine time. Is everything okay? Did she…”
Please be awake, please be awake, please be awake…

“Yes, everything is fine, dear. And no, she’s not awake.” My heart sank. “But she’s trying, Jessica, she really is!” Mrs. Sullivan explained that Grace had been doing more twitching here and there, and how well her therapy was going. I listened half-heartedly, wondering why she’d called with such non
-
news. “So I was thinking maybe a visit from you might help push her over the edge.”

And there it was.

“Well, Sharon, I don’t know if that’ll do it or not, but I’d be more than happy to give it a try.” I looked down at my watch, and was surprised to see how late it’d gotten. “I’ll just plan on swinging by this evening.”

“Oh. I was hoping you could come a little sooner. Maybe, this afternoon yet?”

“Um, wow, I’d love to, really I would, but I’m at work.”

Shit.

“Work? Oh, you mean, with a client?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m with a client. Have the next few hours blocked out. Been planning it for a month. So you see, I can’t come until later.”

“Oh. I understand, dear.” Disappointment rang in every word.

I heard a door to the stairwell open below me.

“But I should be able to make it there around five-thirty.”

“Alright, dear. Maybe I’ll run a few errands and head back then. Sorry to interrupt your meeting.”

Footsteps echoed through the stairwell. Someone was coming. My time was up.

“No problem. Thanks for the update. Bye!”

I hung up and hurried back into the kitchenette. The room had cleared out considerably, but Lauren was still at our table keeping watch over my salad. I resumed my seat and smiled apologetically. “Sorry about that. You know how mothers can be.”

She smirked. “Yes, we can be that way.”

“You have kids?”

Lauren nodded, and worked to pack her empty salad container and fork back into her lunch bag. “I’ve got a thirteen-year-old daughter and a ten-year-old son.”