Читать книгу Unexpected Outcome - Dawn Stewardson - Страница 9

FIRST THING Monday morning Dana was at Four Corners once more, ready to step into her role as Dana Mayfield.

After she’d spent a few minutes asking Robert last-minute questions, he said he’d show her to the office she’d be using. Surprisingly, he led her over to the short hallway near the top of the stairs.

When she told him she hadn’t expected to be on the “executive floor,” he smiled.

“You’ll have more privacy here,” he said.

She knew that had to be true. Tucked away and out of sight would perfectly describe the location.

“As you’ll see when you get the grand tour,” he continued, “our office area downstairs is basically open concept.”

“You’re saying it’s not quite ideal for someone doing undercover work.”

He smiled again. “Exactly. I didn’t think you’d want people looking over your shoulder.

“And these two offices are just sitting empty. Both Noah and our director of logistics, Chris Vidal, prefer to be on the main floor. They interact a lot with the rest of the staff, so being up here wouldn’t work as well.

“That, by the way,” he added, pointing toward a narrow back staircase, “will take you down to a hall that runs from the alley door to the main office area.”

The stairs, she saw, also led to the top floor. When she asked what was up there, Robert said, “It’s mostly dead storage. Filing cabinets full of old records and all sorts of other ghosts from the past thirty years.”

She resisted the impulse to say that, considering costs in Manhattan, it was an incredibly expensive storage area.

Then she had the disconcerting sense Robert had ESP as he said, “We’ve got more room than we really need.

“Initially, we figured we’d use that space for additional employees as the business grew. But modern technology exploded, the work world changed and we didn’t grow, people-wise, the way we’d anticipated.”

Opening the office door, he ushered her inside. “Helen put some supplies in the desk and had that computer moved in. If there’s anything else you need, just tell her.”

“Thanks, I will.”

She eyed the computer for a second, hoping it was loaded with software she knew, then turned her attention back to Robert.

He’d taken a couple of keys from his pocket and was saying, “These are for the door and the desk. And I should show you this.” He produced a sheet of paper and gave it to her along with the keys.

“After you left on Friday, I drafted a memo about you—made you sound as nonthreatening as I could.”

She began skimming it. Addressed to “All Staff,” it said that, in light of recent problems, he and Larry had hired an organizational design expert to look at the company’s operations with fresh eyes.

It went on to say that while her findings might result in a few modifications to current practices, no changes would be made without the direct involvement of any employees affected.

“That was a good idea,” she said once she’d finished reading. “People do tend to feel threatened by a stranger coming in and poking around.”

He nodded. “I’d like to know how much anxiety you think there actually is. As well as have you keep me up-to-date on your progress. So let’s set a regular time to touch base each day.”

“Sure.”

“Maybe late afternoon? Four-thirty or so? My office?”

“Fine.”

She’d assumed from the beginning that this was more his project than Larry’s, and by now she knew she was right. Which was perfectly okay.

She got positive vibes from him, but she couldn’t say the same about his partner.

In fact, on a couple of occasions during their meeting last week, she’d had the impression that Larry had only agreed to hire an investigator because Robert was pushing the idea.

“Is there anything else we should discuss before you get started?” he said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then I’ll ask Helen to have Noah come up.”

“Noah?”

“Uh-huh. Since we haven’t told him you’re really a P.I., there’s no risk of his blowing your cover. Whereas both Larry and I have been known to say things without thinking.

“Besides, the obvious person to introduce you around is the one in charge of day-to-day operations.”

“Ah. Good point.”

There was no arguing with Robert’s logic. But more than once over the weekend, a distracting image of Noah Haine had tiptoed through her mind. And she had a horrible suspicion that having the real thing at her side would prove a much bigger distraction than any image.

To stop herself from worrying about that, she sat down at the desk and jiggled the mouse, bringing the computer to life. Fortunately, it was loaded with Office—which was what she was used to.

She was just resisting the temptation to check whether Free Cell had been deleted when she heard footsteps in the hall. Her pulse began a funny little dance.

Firmly, she reminded herself she was an adult, not a teenager at the mercy of raging hormones. Despite that, all it took was Noah reaching her doorway and gracing her with one of his warm smiles to make her feel a distinct…

But it wasn’t a feeling that had anything to do with raging hormones. It was merely a fresh flicker of awareness that he was an attractive man. And she had no difficulty ignoring flickers.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same about those darned smiles. She’d have to work at developing an immunity to them. Starting now.

When he closed her door and lowered himself into a chair, an unsettling sense that he’d just assumed control seized her—despite the fact that she was the one on the business side of the desk.

Then he smiled again and said, “Before we get going, how about filling me in on how you’ll be approaching things. My uncle was pretty vague.”

“Well, that’s probably because I was pretty vague with him. OD isn’t an exact science—as I’m sure you know. But generally speaking, I’ll just start by getting people to talk about the company and their role in it. Then, depending on where that leads…”

Noah said nothing, simply sat watching her. She began to feel unsettled again.

He had a master’s degree in business. A genuine one, as opposed to the one that existed on her trumped-up credentials. And that meant he could easily be far more knowledgeable about OD than she was.

If she inadvertently said anything dumb, would he pick up on it? She certainly hoped not.

“In this instance,” she continued, telling herself she was doing fine thus far, “with Robert’s memo referring to the fact that there’ve been specific problems, people will be expecting me to ask about them. So I will.

“Actually, since two of the major ones happened at the warehouse, I’d like to begin by talking with the staff there.”

“You’re going to make them nervous,” he said quietly.

“I’ll do my best not to.”

THE FOUR CORNERS WAREHOUSE was only a few blocks from its head office, on one of the multitude of piers reaching out into the Hudson River.

Noah opened the door and ushered Dana inside, thinking—not for the first time—that the work crew the insurance company had sent in had done wonders.

“Seeing this place now,” he said, “you wouldn’t believe what a charred disaster it was after the fire. Just about everything being stored had suffered either smoke or water damage. And the air was so acrid you could feel it searing your lungs.”

She nodded. “I’ve been in burned-out buildings.”

“Oh?”

Wondering why she would have been, he waited for her to elaborate.

She didn’t, merely glanced around, then said, “How soon after they had the fire out were you in here?”

“Well, it was out by about two in the morning. The fire marshal didn’t let me have a look until after dawn, though. And even then it barely qualified as a look because they had it taped off as a crime scene.”

“But you’re saying you were here most of the night?”

He nodded. “I came as soon as I heard we had trouble. One of the administrators is always on call, either Robert, Larry or me. And it was me that night.”

“Is that unusual? Having an admin person on call in this type of business?”

He shrugged. “Every so often a problem comes up after hours. Five o’clock here is only two in L.A.

“Fortunately, though, our problems usually have to do with a missed delivery or that sort of thing. Not a fire.”

When she smiled, his heart gave a little thud against his ribs.

He warned himself to watch out.

Nothing had changed over the weekend. This still wasn’t a good time for him to get interested in a woman. Particularly not this woman.

“Who discovered the fire?” she was saying. “Not that it has anything to do with my job here, but you’ve got me curious.”

“Well, a security company patrols this pier and the ones closest to it.”

Her nod showed she’d already known that, making him think Robert and Larry must have done a thorough job of filling her in.

“Their guard called 911,” he continued. “Then, once the fire trucks were on their way, he contacted our answering service. And they phoned me.

“I got here not long after the firefighters. I just live over in Murray Hill.”

She started to ask another question, stopping as Stu Refkin appeared from behind a crate in the back.

He eyed them for a moment, then raked his fingers through his graying hair and started across the floor.

“This is our warehouse manager,” Noah said as he reached them. “Stu Refkin, Dana Mayfield.”

The man extended his hand, looking far from happy.

“We got the boss’s memo about you,” he said. “But I didn’t expect to see you so soon.

“No offense,” he quickly added.

She smiled. “None taken.”

“Good. Then let me go get my men. I know they’ll want to meet you.”

Noah didn’t buy that for a second. As he’d warned Dana earlier, she was going to make all three of these fellows nervous.

A couple of minutes passed before Stu arrived back with Tony Zicco and Paul Coulter in tow.

Tony had dark hair, Paul’s was a sandy color, but there were more similarities than differences in their appearances. Both were early forties, a shade under six feet tall, with muscular builds that indicated they did physically demanding work.

After going through introductions a second time, Noah made a bit of small talk. Then his cellular rang, giving him an excuse to leave the four of them on their own.

It was Helen calling, with a question that only took a minute to answer. But when he clicked off, rather than rejoining the others, he wandered over to the window beside the door and stood, ostensibly staring out at the murky water of the Hudson.

In reality, he was watching the little group’s reflection in the glass, absently adding up how many years—in total—the three men had worked at Four Corners.

Stu had been with the company since start-up, for the first ten years as one of the warehouse grunt men, for the past twenty as manager.

Tony and Paul hadn’t been around forever but both were long-term employees.

He’d had a careful look through their files after the container incident, so he knew Paul had been around for close to eighteen years. And Tony had come on board about three years later—almost straight out of prison.

But he’d always been a good employee. Surely he wouldn’t go bad again after so much time had passed.

Or would he?

Maybe he’d needed big money for some reason and…

Telling himself speculation about that sort of thing was a waste of time, Noah focused on the reflection once more.

All three men looked worried, but they’d be a lot more so if they’d overheard some of the discussions he’d had with Robert and Larry. If they knew Larry kept harping on the point that lie detector tests weren’t foolproof, and insisting at least one of the warehouse people had to be part of what he’d taken to calling “the conspiracy”…

However, surely anyone who gave his conclusion much thought would question it. Because none of these three seemed like the sort who’d get involved in a master plan to cause the company grief.

So wouldn’t most people figure Larry was probably wrong? That someone else had tried to burn the place down?

And even though Tony had made a major-league slipup when he’d signed for those containers, that was a far cry from conspiring with the ship’s captain to steal a couple of them.

Noah let his gaze drift to Dana’s reflection, wondering what impression she was forming of these guys. Did she think one of them could be…

Of course, Robert had said he’d underplayed the sabotage angle with her. That he’d merely mentioned they thought it was possible someone was intentionally causing their problems.

Still, it would have occurred to her that the arsonist might be an employee.

He watched her for a few more seconds. And even though looking at her told him nothing about what was going on in her head, it was plain to see that those smiles she kept flashing weren’t getting her anywhere. She was still making the men uneasy.

Not only that…

Studying her image in the glass, he silently admitted she was making him uneasy, as well. Because something about her didn’t ring true.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he had that feeling, although the fact they were here in the warehouse accounted for part of it.

Based on what he knew about the way consultants worked, she should have had him introduce her to the office staff first. Made her way over here sometime after that.

So even though she’d given him a plausible reason for where she wanted to begin, the fact remained that she wasn’t behaving like a typical consultant.

And then there was her response when he’d asked her how she’d be proceeding.

She’d start by talking to people and see where it led. That was the extent of what she’d said—and it had set off a minor alarm in his brain.

People who specialized in organizational design, the ones he’d known in university, at least, were always more than eager to talk about the guiding principles they followed.

As Dana herself had said, OD wasn’t an exact science. Which seemed to make its practitioners feel they should work at convincing everyone they met that it deserved respect.

Not Dana, though.

He had the distinct feeling that the less she discussed the finer points of her profession the happier she’d be. Which had him thinking…

Regardless of her Web site, he was back to suspecting his uncle and Larry had lied to him, that she was either a cop or a P.I.

Maybe it wasn’t much more than a hunch, but he’d learned not to ignore his hunches. And if he was right about her, why were those two keeping him in the dark?

Only one obvious answer came to mind and he really didn’t like it.

Larry might keep talking about how he suspected the warehouse guys. But when he was alone with Robert he had to be suggesting Noah could be behind things.

The thought his uncle would even consider that was… Yet what other explanation made sense?

Hell, that was probably the real reason Robert had him playing tour guide for Dana. It would give her time with him. Time to figure out if he was the guilty one.

Gazing at her reflection again, he decided he had to establish whether she was a phony or not—and fast.

As the old saying went, forewarned was forearmed, and it had occurred to him, right off the bat, that she might get in the way of what he was doing.

Now he was thinking that, unless his hunch was wrong, there was little doubt she would.

Casually, he turned from the window and started toward the others.

When Dana noticed him coming, he said, “You’re going to be here for a while, so I’ll head back. Do some work until you need me again.”

“Well…fine.”

“My office is to the right of the front door. Just down the hall.”

“Fine,” she said again.

After nodding to the three men, he strode out of the warehouse and up the pier to West Street.

Ten minutes later he was at his computer, reading through those quotes from “clients” on Dana’s Web site and thinking it was strange that she wouldn’t have included the names of the client companies.

Or maybe it wasn’t strange. If they weren’t for real, they didn’t have names.

He reached for his phone and dialed the number on the screen, then listened to her voice telling him he’d reached the office of Dana Mayfield, organizational design consultant, and asking him to leave a message.

He hung up, not even marginally convinced his hunch was wrong, then went into a database that gave him the options of searching the city by either address, zip or phone number.

When he typed in her number, there was no hit. Yet it was obviously assigned, which meant she’d intentionally had it blocked.

A blocked business number? That made him even more suspicious. But how was he going to find out for sure if his suspicions were right? Follow her home?

No, that didn’t strike him as much of a plan. He’d be smarter to try charm. Befriend her. Get her talking about herself. Then catch her off guard.

Uh-huh, that was a far better idea.

Except that he was kind of rusty in the charm department. He’d been so busy around here lately that his social life was nothing but a faded memory.

Glancing at Dana’s photo once more, he told himself not to worry about the rust. Being charming to a woman who looked like her wouldn’t be tough. No matter how high the likelihood that she was a phony.

On the other hand, he’d never been a good actor. So if she was a detective…

Well, he’d just have to be careful. And hope for the best.

IT WAS QUARTER TO TWELVE before Dana got back from the warehouse, and she headed straight down the hall next to the front entrance.

The door of the first office along it was closed, but its nameplate told her it belonged to Chris Vidal, director of logistics.

Noah’s was the one farther along—the corner one—and he was at his desk. Seeing her, he shot her another of his devastating smiles.

It reminded her she’d decided to work on developing immunity to them. Although she might not work too hard.

After all, she didn’t have a rule about mixing pleasure with ex-business. So once her job here was through…

Telling herself to leave contemplating that until she was a lot closer to its being through—not to mention until she was absolutely certain Noah was one of the good guys—she said, “I just wanted to check that you’ll still be available later.”

“Sure. How did it go at the warehouse?”

“Not badly.”

“Good. Hey, it’s almost noon,” he added, glancing at his watch. “There’s a deli on Gansevoort that isn’t bad. Want to try it?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got to write myself some notes about this morning. And if I don’t do it now I’ll forget half of what I heard.”

“I can wait a bit,” he said casually.

“Well…actually, I’m going to skip lunch.”

“Ah.” He hesitated, then said, “Dana, if I just gave you the impression that… I was only talking about lunch.

“No, wait, I think that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to sound as if I might not be interested in…”

He shook his head and grinned. “I should probably stop before I get in even deeper. But what I was trying to say is that I didn’t have a hidden agenda. I just figured you might like someone to eat with.”

“Well, I appreciate that. And you didn’t give me the wrong impression. I’d decided to skip lunch before you said a word. I ended up spending a lot more time with Stu Refkin than I’d expected.”

“Ah,” he said a second time. “Okay, then. I’ll be back by one, so whatever works after that…”

“Fine. See you later.”

Starting for the stairs, she felt as if a little candle were glowing inside her. When a man stumbled all over his words talking to a woman…

Of course, she’d already been pretty sure the attraction was mutual, but “certain” was better than “pretty sure.” Much better.