Promise Not To Tell(44)
Laurel shook her head and rose from her chair. She was as cool and unflustered as usual.
“No, nothing else,” Kate said.
She shot to her feet, eager to escape.
He waited until they had both left the room before he went back to his desk. He stood for a moment, staring at the closed door of his office. He had to find the thief and he had to do it soon. He was running out of time. The rumors of Night Watch’s financial problems were already starting to circulate. That kind of gossip spread fast in the tech world. If it got out that he was being systematically fleeced, he could forget any hope of securing another round of venture capital. It was okay to burn through cash. That was expected with a start-up. But getting scammed by someone in your own company was a killer.
He crossed the office, opened a door and entered the sanctuary of his private executive restroom. He washed his hands exactly fifteen times, very thoroughly, under very warm water.
When the ritual was complete, a sense of relief descended. He knew it would be short-lived, but at least he could think more clearly again.
He would see someone about the OCD thing when he had some time. But first he had to regain control of his business and find out who was stealing from him.
CHAPTER 27
Kate Delbridge carried her latte across the lightly crowded break room to the table where Tucker Fleming was sitting alone.
Tucker was, as usual, transfixed by whatever he was looking at on his phone. He glanced up when she arrived, acknowledged her presence with a short, impatient inclination of his head and immediately returned his attention to the screen of his device.
“Everything okay in the Zero-Zero-Zero Suite?” he asked.
Somewhere back at the start, for reasons no one had ever discovered, Josh Preston’s office had acquired the title of the Zero-Zero-Zero Suite.
“I’m not sure,” Kate said. “The boss is really wired today. He could hardly sit still when Laurel and I briefed him on the new marketing and promo plans.”
“Preston has always been the twitchy type.”
“Yes, but this is the worst I’ve ever seen him. I swear, he’s really nervous about something.”
Tucker shrugged. “Maybe he’s heard the rumors that have started up around the office.”
“You mean about the embezzlement? I’m sure he has. Heck, even I’ve heard those stories and I’m usually the last to know what’s going on around here. I’m surprised Preston hasn’t brought in a cybersecurity firm to investigate.”
“Once he does that, he won’t have a chance in hell of controlling the situation. The rumors about embezzlement will get very loud and the pool of potential investors will dry up overnight.”
“You’re probably right.”
She peeled the lid off the latte. Some people had a problem trying to carry on a conversation with a person who could not pry himself away from his phone, but she was used to it. Like most start-ups, Night Watch was populated with highly caffeinated workers who were convinced that they had evolved the ability to live two parallel lives – one on their devices and one in the real world. She was pretty sure that for a lot of them it was the real-world life that suffered. It just couldn’t compete with the never-ending stimulation of the online life. Personally, she preferred the real world.
Tucker Fleming had recently received a big bonus and been made employee of the month because of his latest Night Watch app. He was in his midtwenties and there was no denying he’d hit the genetic lottery with his looks. But he had a short, unpredictable temper. He was also impulsive. Those personality characteristics wouldn’t be a problem, however, so long as he kept coming up with moneymaking apps.
Ultimately, of course, Tucker Fleming was doomed to obsolescence. Like coloratura sopranos, football stars and prima ballerinas, the careers of the hotshots in the tech world were invariably fated to be short-lived. Tucker was a blazing star now, but there was always another generation of wizards coming up who were even faster, sharper and more in tune with the machines. Even the best programmers were viewed as over-the-hill at an age when their counterparts in other businesses were just starting to hit their career heights.
As for her, she just wrote content for the Night Watch blogs and social media. The thing about writing was that someone, somewhere always needed a good writer.
She drank some coffee and lowered the cup. “Did the cops talk to you about Sandra yet?”
“Yeah.” Tucker focused on the screen of his phone. “I told ’em that I was a colleague and that we’d worked together but that I didn’t know her very well. I mentioned that I’d heard rumors that she was into the drug scene. What about you?”
“The cops haven’t interviewed me yet. They probably won’t. It wasn’t like Sandra and I were close. I barely knew her. You know how it is – IT people never have any patience with those of us who got degrees in English.”
“I’ll bet the police will go with the theory that it was some kind of drug deal gone bad.”
“Think so?”
“It’s the most logical explanation,” Tucker said. “Like I told the cops, Sandra had gotten weird lately.”
CHAPTER 28
Josh Preston left the office shortly before five. Cabot waited for him just outside the exit door of the building’s underground garage. When Preston brought his very distinctive, very expensive sports car to a halt to check traffic before pulling out onto the street, Cabot walked to the driver’s-side window, wallet open, his investigator’s license in full view.