Man in Control Read online

Page 7


  She was aghast at the comment. He never made personal remarks. She shifted restlessly in her chair. “It isn’t dignified,” she stammered.

  He moved a step closer. “Jodie, a job shouldn’t mimic jail. If you don’t like what you do, where you do it, you’re wasting the major part of your life.”

  She knew that. She tasted panic when she swallowed. But jobs were thin on the ground and she had the chance for advancement in this one. She put to the back of her mind Brody’s comments on her shortcomings as a manager.

  “I like my job very much,” she lied.

  His eyes slid over her with something like possession. “No, you don’t. Pity. You have a gift for computer programming. I’ll bet you haven’t written a single routine since you’ve been here.”

  Her face clenched. “Don’t you have something to do? Because I’m busy.”

  “Suit yourself. As soon after five as you can make it, please,” he said, adding deliberately, “I have a dinner date.”

  With Kirry. Always with Kirry. She knew it. She hated Kirry. She hated him, too. But she smiled. “No problem. See you.” She turned on her computer and pulled up her memo file to see what tasks were upcoming. She ignored Alexander, who gave her another long, curious appraisal before he left her alone.

  She felt the sting of his presence all the way to her poor heart. He was so much a part of her life that it was like being amputated when she thought of a lifetime without his complicated presence.

  For the first time, she thought about moving to another city. Ritter Oil Corporation had a headquarters office in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Perhaps she could get a transfer there…and do what, she asked herself? She was barely qualified for the predominantly clerical job she was doing now, and painfully unqualified for firing people, even if they deserved it. She’d let her pride force her into taking this job, because Alexander kept asking when she was going to start working after her graduation from business college. He probably hadn’t meant that he thought she was taking advantage of his financial help—but she took it that way. So she went to work for the first company that offered her a job, just to shut him up.

  In retrospect, she should have looked a little harder. She’d been under consideration for a job with the local police department, as a computer specialist. She had the skills to write programs, to restructure software. She was a whiz at opening protected files, finding lost documents, tracking down suspicious e-mails and finding ways to circumvent write-protected software. Her professor had recommended her for a career in law enforcement as a cyber crime specialist, but she’d jumped at the first post-college job that came her way.

  Now here she was, stuck in a dead-end job that she didn’t even like, kept in a cubicle like a box of printer paper and only taken out when some higher-up needed her to take a letter or organize a schedule, or compile his notes…

  She had a vision of herself as a cardboard box full of supplies and started giggling.

  Another administrative assistant stuck her head in the cubicle. “Better keep it down,” she advised softly. “They’ve had a complaint about the noise levels in here.”

  “I’m only laughing to myself,” Jodie protested, shocked.

  “They want us quiet while we’re working. No personal phone calls, no talking to ourselves—and there’s a new memo about the length of time people are taking in the bathroom…”

  “Oh, good God!” Jodie burst out furiously.

  The other woman put a feverish hand to her lips and looked around nervously. “Shhh!” she cautioned.

  Jodie stood up and gave the woman her best military salute.

  Sadly the vice president in charge of personnel was walking by her cubicle at the time. He stopped, eyeing both women suspiciously.

  Already in trouble, and not giving a damn anymore, Jodie saluted him, too.

  Surprisingly he had to suppress a smile. He wiped it off quickly. “Back to work, girls,” he cautioned and kept walking.

  The other woman moved closer. “Now see what you’ve done!” she hissed. “We’ll both be on report!”

  “If he tries to put me on report, I’ll put him on report as well,” Jodie replied coolly. “Nobody calls me a ‘girl’ in a working office!”

  The other woman threw up her hands and walked out.

  Jodie turned her attention back to her chores and put the incident out of her mind. But it was very disturbing to realize how much authority the company had over her working life, and she didn’t like it. She wondered if old man Ritter, the head of the corporation, encouraged such office politics. From what she’d heard about him, he was something of a renegade. He didn’t seem to like rules and regulations very much, but, then, he couldn’t be everywhere. Maybe he didn’t even know the suppressive tactics his executives used to keep employees under control here.

  Being cautioned never to speak was bad enough, and personalization of cubicles was strictly forbidden by company policy. But to have executives complain about the time employees spent in the bathroom made Jodie furious. She had a girlfriend who was a diabetic, and made frequent trips to the rest room in school. Some teachers had made it very difficult for her until her parents had requested a teacher conference to explain their daughter’s health problem. She had a feeling no sort of conference would help at this job.

  She went back to work, but the day had been disturbing in more ways than one.

  At exactly five minutes past quitting time, she walked into the little coffee shop downstairs. Alexander had a table, and he was waiting for her. He’d already ordered the French Vanilla cappuccino she liked so much, along with chocolate biscotti.

  She was surprised by his memory of her preferences. She draped her old coat over the empty chair at the corner table and sat down. Fortunately the shop wasn’t crowded, as it was early in the evening, and there were no customers anywhere near them.

  “Right on time,” Alexander noted, checking his expensive wristwatch.

  “I usually am,” she said absently, sipping her cappuccino. “This is wonderful,” she added with a tiny smile.

  He seemed puzzled. “Don’t you come here often?”

  “Actually, it’s not something I can fit into my budget,” she confessed.

  Now it was shock that claimed his features. “You make a good salary,” he commented.

  “If you want to rent someplace with good security, it costs more,” she told him. “I have to dress nicely for work, and that costs, too. By the time I add in utilities and food and bus fare, there isn’t a lot left. We aren’t all in your income tax bracket, Alexander,” she added without rancor.

  He let his attention wander to his own cappuccino. He sipped it quietly.

  “I never think of you as being in a different economic class,” he said.

  “Don’t you?” She knew better, and her thoughts were bitter. She couldn’t forget what she’d overheard him say to his sister, that she was only blue collar and she didn’t fit in with them.

  He sat up straight. “Something’s worrying you,” he said flatly. “You’re not the same. You haven’t been since the party.”

  Her face felt numb. She couldn’t lower her pride enough to tell him what she’d overheard. It was just too much, on top of everything else that had gone haywire lately.

  “Why can’t you talk to me?” he persisted.

  She looked up at him with buried resentments, hurt pride, and outraged sentiment plain in her cold eyes. “It would be like talking to the floor,” she said. “If you’re here, it’s because you want something. So, what is it?”

  His expression was eloquent. He sipped cappuccino carefully and then put the delicate cup in its saucer with precision.

  “Why do you think I want something?”

  She felt ancient. “Margie invites me to parties so that I can cook and clean up the kitchen, if Jessie isn’t available,” she said in a tone without inflection. “Or if she’s sick and needs nursing. You come to see me if you need something typed, or a computer program tweaked, or some
clue traced back to an ISP online. Neither of you ever come near me unless I’m useful.”

  His breath caught. “Jodie, it’s not like that!”

  She looked at him steadily. “Yes, it is. It always has been. I’m not complaining,” she added at once. “I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t been for you and Margie. I owe you more than I can ever repay in my lifetime. It’s just that since you’re here, there’s something you need done, and I know it. No problem. Tell me what you want me to do.”

  His eyes closed and opened again, on a pained expression. It was true. He and Margie had used her shamelessly, but without realizing they were so obvious. He hated the thought.

  “It’s a little late to develop a conscience,” she added with a faint smile. “It’s out of character, anyway. Come on. What is it?”

  He toyed with his biscotti. “I told you that we’re tracking a link to the drug cartel.”

  She nodded.

  “In your company,” he added.

  “You said I couldn’t help,” she reminded him.

  “Well, I was wrong. In fact, you’re the only one who can help me with this.”

  A few weeks ago, she’d have joked about getting a badge or a gun. Now she just waited for answers. The days of friendly teasing were long gone.

  He met her searching gaze. “I want you to pretend that we’re developing a relationship,” he said, “so that I have a reason to hang around your division.”

  She didn’t react. She was proud of herself. It would have been painfully easy to dump the thick, creamy cappuccino all over his immaculate trousers and anoint him with the cream.

  His eyebrow jerked. “Yes, you’re right, I’m using you. It’s the only way I can find to do surveillance. I can’t hang around Jasper or people will think I’m keen on him!”

  That thought provoked a faint smile. “His wife wouldn’t like it.”

  He shrugged. “Will you do it?”

  She hesitated.

  He anticipated that. He took out a photograph and slid it across the table to her.

  She picked it up. It was of two young boys, about five or six, both smiling broadly. They had thick, straight black hair and black eyes and dark complexions. They looked Latin. She looked back up at Alexander with a question in her eyes.

  “Their mother was tired of having drug users in her neighborhood. They met in an abandoned house next door to her. There were frequent disputes, usually followed by running gun battles. The dealer who made the house his headquarters got ambitious. He decided to double-cross the new drug leadership that came in after Manuel Lopez’s old territory was finally divided,” he said carelessly. “Mama Garcia kept a close eye on what was going on, and kept the police informed. She made the fatal error of telling her infrequent neighbor that his days in her neighborhood were numbered. He told his supplier.

  “All this got back to the new dealer network. So when they came to take out the double-crossing dealer, they were quite particular about where they placed the shots. They knew where Mama Garcia lived, and they targeted her along with their rival. Miguel and Juan were hit almost twenty times with automatic weapon fire. They died in the firefight, along with the rebellious dealer. Their mother was wounded and will probably never walk again.”

  She winced as she looked at the photograph of the two little boys, so happy and smiling. Both dead, over drugs.

  He saw her discomfort and nodded. “The local distributor I’m after ordered the hit. He works in this building, in this corporation, in this division.” He leaned forward, and she’d never seen him look so menacing. “I’m going to take him out. So, I’ll ask you one more time, Jodie. Will you help me?”

  Five

  Jodie groaned inwardly. She knew as she looked one last time at the photograph that she couldn’t let a child-killer walk the streets, no matter what the sacrifice to herself.

  She handed him back the photograph. “Yes, I’ll do it,” she said in a subdued tone. “When do I start?”

  “Tomorrow at lunch. We’ll go out to eat. You can give me the grand tour on the way.”

  “Okay.”

  “You still look reluctant,” he said with narrowed eyes.

  “Brody just asked me out, for the first time,” she confessed, trying to sound more despondent than she actually was. It wouldn’t hurt to let Alexander know that she wasn’t pining over him.

  His expression was not easily read. “I thought he was engaged.”

  She grimaced. “Well, things are cooling off,” she defended herself. “His girlfriend travels all over the world. She just came back from trips to Mexico and Peru, and she doesn’t pay Brody much attention even when she’s here!” she muttered.

  “Peru?” He seemed thoughtful. He studied her quietly for a long moment before he spoke. “They’re still engaged, Jodie.”

  And he thought less of her because she was ignoring another woman’s rights. Of course he did. She didn’t like the idea, either, and she knew she wasn’t going to go out with Brody a week from Saturday. Not now. Alexander made her feel too guilty.

  She traced the rim of her china coffee cup. “You’re right,” she had to admit. “It’s just that she treats him so badly,” she added with a wistful smile. “He’s a sweet man. He’s always encouraging me in my job, telling me I can do things, believing in me.”

  “Which is no damned reason to have an affair with a man,” he said furiously. It made him angry to think that another man was trying to uplift Jodie’s ego when he’d done nothing but damage to it.

  She lowered her voice. “I am not having an affair with him!”

  “But you would, if he asked,” he said, his eyes as cold as green glass.

  She started to argue, then stopped. It would do no good to argue. Besides, it was her life, and he had no business telling her how to live it.

  “How do you want me to act while we’re pretending to get involved?” she countered sourly. “Do you want me to throw myself at you and start kissing you when you walk into my cubicle?”

  His eyes dilated. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Never mind,” she said, ruffled. “I’ll play it by ear.”

  He really did seem different, she thought, watching him hesitate uncharacteristically. He drew a diskette in a plastic holder out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her.

  “Another chore,” he added, glancing around to make sure they weren’t being observed. “I want you to check out these Web sites, and the e-mail addresses, without leaving footprints. I want to know if they’re legitimate and who owns them. They’re password protected and in code.”

  “No problem,” she said easily. “I can get behind any firewall they put up.”

  “Don’t leave an address they can trace back to you,” he emphasized. “These people won’t hesitate to kill children. They wouldn’t mind wasting you.”

  “I get the point. I’m not sloppy.” She slipped the diskette into her purse and finished her coffee. “Anything else?”

  “Yes. Margie said to tell you that she’s sorry.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “For what?”

  “For everything.” He searched her eyes. “And for the record, you don’t owe us endless favors, debt or no debt.”

  She got to her feet. “I know that. I’ll have this information for you tomorrow by the time you get here.”

  He got up, too, catching the bill before she had time to grab it. “My conference, my treat,” he said. He stared down at her with an intensity that was disturbing. “You’re still keeping something back,” he said in a deep, low tone.

  “Nothing of any importance,” she replied. It was disconcerting that he could read her expressions that well.

  His eyes narrowed. “Do you really like working here, Jodie?”

  “You’re the one who said I needed to stop loafing and get a job,” she accused with more bitterness than she realized. “So I got one.”

  He actually winced. “I said you needed to get your priorities straight,” he co
untered. “Not that you needed to jump into a job you hate.”

  “I like Brody.”

  “Brody isn’t the damned job,” he replied tersely. “You’re not cut out for monotony. It will kill your soul.”

  She knew that; she didn’t want to admit it. “Don’t you have a hot date?” she asked sarcastically, out of patience with his meddling.

  He sighed heavily. “Yes. Why don’t you?”

  “Men aren’t worth the trouble they cause,” she lied, turning.

  “Oh, you’d know?” he drawled sarcastically. “With your hectic social life?”

  She turned, furious. “When Brody’s free, look out,” she said.

  He didn’t reply. But he watched her all the way down the hall.

  She fumed all the way home. Alexander had such a nerve, she thought angrily. He could taunt her with his conquests, use her to do his decryption work, force her into becoming his accomplice in an investigation…!

  Wait a minute, she thought suddenly, her hand resting on her purse over the diskette he’d entrusted her with. He had some of the best cyber crime experts in the country on his payroll. Why was he farming out work to an amateur who didn’t even work for him?

  The answer came in slowly, as she recalled bits and pieces of information she’d heard during the Lopez investigation. She knew people in Jacobsville who kept in touch with her after her move to Houston. Someone had mentioned that there were suspicions of a mole in the law enforcement community, a shadowy figure who’d funneled information to Lopez so that he could escape capture.

  Then Alexander’s unusual request made sense. He suspected somebody in his organization of working with the drug dealers, and he wanted someone he could trust to do this investigation for him.

  She felt oddly touched by his confidence, not only in her ability, but also in her character. He’d refused to let her help him before, but now he was trusting her with explosive information. He was letting her into his life, even on a limited basis. He had to care about her, a little.

 

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