Revenge of the Cube Dweller (22 page)

“So were you named after Lucille Ball?” Kim asks as our food consumption wanes.

“Actually, yes. I look like a Lucy,” Lucy says laughing.

“Lucy is number seven in the family and I am number eight,” I say. “Our parents let the older kids name the babies when they came home. It was sort of a way to ease jealousy and make it fun.”

“Like a pet?”

“Sort of,” I allow. “Anyway, when Lucy came home in July 1956 and had a head of red hair, the only one in the family, the kids all voted to name her Lucy.”

“Thank goodness I wasn’t a boy!” Lucy laughs. “I’d probably be called Howdy.”

“So where did Tanzie come from?” Dan asks.

“Well, when Tanzie came home,” Lucy begins, “we were watching
You Bet Your Life
—you know, that game show with Groucho Marx? He had two sisters on, Tanzie and Dorcas, who won all the money. When we voted, Tanzie beat out Dorcas by my single vote.”

“Yes, barely a toddler and she got the swing vote determining my future,” I say.

“I might have had some help.” Lucy laughs.

“Wow, I’ve never heard of anything like that before.” Kim looks at Dan.

“We have a fairly unique family,” I say.

“Oh yes.” Lucy laughs. “That we do.”

We spend the rest of the evening retelling classic O’Leary family stories, from the litany of unusual houseguests to the menagerie of pets that also took advantage of our open-door policy. “In those days no one had leashes or anything. You fed the dog. The dog stayed around, so it was your dog,” Lucy says.

“Alexander was this huge standard poodle mix with a mass of gray curls. We’d had him all of a week when he bit the mailman three times, so animal control showed up at the door and took Alexander away and issued my father a ticket. He was furious. ‘I feed a stray dog and now it’s my problem? I need to go to court? Ridiculous!’” Lucy has the brogue down perfectly.

“So we all go to court and my father tells the judge, ‘Everyone else is eating off the government, why shouldn’t my dog?’”

Kim and Dan howl with laughter. “Your father sounds like a real character,” Kim says.

“Both our parents were,” Lucy responds. “They’ve been gone for quite a while, though.”

“So, did you ever get another dog?” Dan asks.

“We never saw poor Alexander again,” I answer. “But we had another stray take up residence by the weekend. We never turned anyone away.”

A
gainst my suggestion, we decide to forgo dessert and instead walk back to the condos, saying our good-byes in the hall.

“So what was that at dinner, Lucy?” I ask as I take my coat off. “Did you talk to Dan about what we’re doing?”

“No. I told you I didn’t,” Lucy says defensively.

“You never answered my question before,” I correct. “You sure hinted around that you did.”

“I was just playing with you, Tanzie. Lighten up.”

I see no useful purpose in continuing along these lines and elect to change the subject.

“So what did you find today?” I ask as I watch Lucy divide what remains of the zinfandel between our glasses.

“Quite a bit, actually. These guys are real bastards. They have all kinds of environmental issues. They pay the fines when they
are caught, but they do nothing to take preventive action. They have a gas plant near Longview, Texas, that is spewing CO, NOX, VOCs, formaldehydes, and H
₂
S, way over regulatory limits. From the files, it looks like they fudge on their reporting. I don’t know why the TCEQ hasn’t shut them down; I would think they would be fairly visible.”

“You’ve lost me, Lucy.”

“In layman’s terms, there are limits on what can be released into the air. The company is supposed to measure emissions and report them to the regulatory agency, in this case the Texas Council for Environmental Quality, or TCEQ. Those poor people who live out there are breathing really bad air and don’t know it. The plant dates back to the ’60s, and I can’t figure out why the TCEQ hasn’t been on their doorstep doing their own independent testing.

“There is a reference to an entity called BQR Environmental Services, but I don’t know what Bishop uses them for. There are a couple of memos indicating that they rely on this service to mitigate the damages. I don’t see how, though. The internal plant measurements show very high levels that are completely different on the regulatory reports they send in. I think we have enough to at least call the enforcement division and file a complaint.”

“BQR Environmental Services,” I repeat. “Let me do some research on it first, okay, Lucy?”

“Why?” she asks, suddenly upset. “Why do you always take their side?”

“I’m not taking sides, Lucy. I’m just being prudent. It’s a good thing. I don’t jump to conclusions. I don’t alert the media. I don’t shout from the rooftops!”

“You don’t do anything!” Lucy accuses. “You’re so worried
about your reputation among those debutantes you hang out with in Houston. ‘Oh my goodness. Maybe they won’t invite me to the gala or something.’ Why can’t you see past your silly little life? Why don’t you want something with more meaning?”

“Like sitting in a jail cell? That kind of meaning?” I ask, furious. “I don’t expect you to want what I want, but you need to know that I
am
on your side here. We agree on a lot of things, Lucy. I just want to take time to pull it all together. If you release information too early, people have time to spin it their way. You know how to read environmental records, but I know how to investigate things. That’s what I do. So let me investigate my way.”

Lucy looks at me, and I can tell the wheels are spinning under that mop of red curls.

“Okay,” she says finally. “But you have one week to take action on this Longview plant. There are real people who will get sick, and I am not comfortable sitting on that knowledge without taking action. The pipeline thing you can figure out on your own, or call me if you need more help. But I’m not like you, Tanzie. I feel too deeply for people.”

Point taken once again, Lucy
. “All right. Fair enough.” I am instantly relieved I had not burdened Lucy with the meeting notes about the Bishop cover-up. I can see now that would have been a disaster.

“So what about the meeting? What did you hear?” Lucy pumps as she drains the rest of her wine.

“Not too much. Just posturing. Insurance stuff. Nothing too conclusive,” I lie.

When I get to my cube the next morning, I have two things I want to investigate: Do hot flashes burn calories, and who is BQR Environmental Services?

If hot flashes in fact do burn calories, then perhaps there is an upside to the discomfort I have been feeling lately and I will be wearing smaller pants soon. Google has conflicting answers and nothing scientifically compelling, so I move on to the second item. There is nothing on Google regarding BQR. So I look at the payment register, noting what looks like a monthly $5,000 payment to them dating back as far as the report goes. I write down the check number for one of the payments and take the elevator up to Corporate Accounting on twenty. I have been here a few times before while doing walk-throughs for my audits.

I see Cindy in the file room and ask if she can pull a canceled check for me.

“Check 260112 from the general account.”

“We don’t get the checks,” she explains, “but we get copies from the bank statements.”

“Does it have the back side, so I can see the endorsement?”

“No. But I can request it from the bank. Do you want me to?”

“How long will it take?”

“Not sure. Maybe I can get online and see if I can access it without bothering them.”

“Thanks, Cindy. I appreciate it.”

Cindy is one of the most efficient people at Bishop. She is a tad grumpy and her dress is so flashy that it borders on clownish. Her permed platinum hair is festooned with sequined combs, and she favors costume jewelry in the form of huge earrings, numerous bangles, and a ring larger than most plumbing fixtures. Cindy’s bowling-alley style notwithstanding, she
is usually invaluable for getting information quickly and accurately. In the time it takes me to check out the coffee bar and get a glass of ice water to cool down the inferno blazing from my neck, Cindy has gotten what I need.

“Here you go, Tanzie,” she says, proudly handing me the documents.

I take the check copy and look at the endorsement, noting the first of many red flags. There is no stamp “For Deposit Only,” used by most companies to restrictively endorse the checks they receive. Instead, the check has a name signed on the back. I can’t decipher the signature. Only the
Q
between the first and last names is legible. I take the check copy with me back to my desk on six and ponder what to do.

I decide to go to the TCEQ website, and there is, of all things, an organization chart going all the way from the governor of Texas and other elected officials to the field-level flunkies responsible for doing the inspections. The letter
Q
stands out as the middle initial of Bonnie Q. Reynolds, a field inspector in the north Texas region for air quality. Now this makes perfect sense. Bonnie is looking the other way on the Longview plant and taking a nice payment for the effort. I wonder how many other inspectors are on the take. I also wonder if similar arrangements have been made with the DOT for the Houston pipeline.
Why hasn’t the Department of Transportation done their inspections? No one said anything at the meeting the other night
. I am deep in thought and speculation when Todd stops by my cube.

“What’s up?” I ask, shoving my paperwork into my desk drawer.

“It’s Wednesday. Don’t tell me you forgot. Coffee Wednesday. You weren’t here last week.”

“Oops. Sorry, Todd. I was … um, sick … well, out of town, but don’t tell anybody.” I smile sheepishly. I grab my purse and we head to the elevators.

“That new coffee in the break room is horrible,” Todd says as we wait. “Did you know they changed from Starbucks?”

“Yeah, I think I read it somewhere.”

We walk over to a trendy little place adjacent to the Bishop building that I can only assume will triple its revenue given the switch to Best Java at Bishop. I pay for Todd’s coffee and my latte and walk over to a booth near the front window.

“Wanna hear something funny?” Todd begins. “Baldwin called the Help Desk Monday because he needed to change his password. He didn’t know how to do it unless it was about to expire and gave him a prompt. He needed me to walk him through it. Here he runs this huge company and can’t figure out how to change his password.”

My shaking hand starts to make little waves in my latte.

“Why did he need it changed?” I ask trying not to act too interested.

“Well, actually he thinks his computer got hacked,” Todd whispers, leaning toward me.

“Really.”

“What I heard is that he tried to log in to his computer over the weekend but it was locked. The error notice said he was the user locking it. Then when he was able to log in, the screen was in some confidential file or something. I’m not sure, but he was pretty hot about it. There’s some forensic specialist coming up here from Dallas next week. I have to get a workspace set up for him down on our floor.”

“What will he be able to do?”

“Well, he can create a list of the IP addresses accessing Baldwin’s account and then see where they are coming from.”

“Oh really. How can they tell where the IP address comes from?” I ask, trying not to spill my latte as I bring it to my mouth.

“Well, they can only get within a geographic range, like Moscow or New York. In order to find out who owns the IP address, it usually takes a court order, and that could take over a year.”

I relax a bit as I take in that last factoid. “Sounds complicated.”

I look at my watch. “We need to head back, Todd. I’m sort of in the middle of something.”

“Sure. No problem.” Todd and I get up and head back to the Bishop building.

“Thanks for the coffee, Tanzie,” Todd says as the elevator door opens on the third floor.

“You’re very welcome, Todd. Very welcome.”

I sit at my desk and try to process this new information. I make a mental list of all the places from which I have hacked into Baldwin’s computer. There is the Internet café in Houston, but I used cash. There is the library, but surely the librarian won’t remember me. Even if she does, the description of a dumpy middle-aged woman with expensive shoes will hardly be incriminating. Then I remember my initial login from Grant’s computer. That could be a problem. Still, if Todd is right, Baldwin and his investigator will not have that information, so I needn’t take immediate action. I calm down and focus on the positives. At least I know what is going on, so I have that in my favor.