 
# DUPLICITY

Book 2

### Relentless Pursuit

First Edition

Peggy Lea Baker

Published at www.Smashwords.com

Copyright 2019 Peggy Lea Baker

RELENTLESS PURSUIT is a fictional work. Names, characters, places, and incidents may be real or imaginary and used with permission where required. Similarities to persons, living or dead, or specific businesses or events, are unintentional, coincidental, or used with permission. Similarly, general locations are used with permission, or fall within public domain rules, regulations, or the law.

All rights reserved.

This e-book, or parts thereof, is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or shared without the author's written permission. To share this book with others, please purchase additional copies for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the author's invested time and conscientious work.

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# Acknowledgments

Thank you to these extraordinary individuals, for their

time, talents, skills, expertise, and ongoing encouragement

Lauren Haugan – BETA Reader

Susan Martin – BETA Reader

Candice Smith – BETA Reader

Charene Zimos – BETA Reader

Cameron Fraser – Spanish Translation Consultant

# CHAPTER 1

Janet Feldman enjoyed her casual dinner date with co-workers, Alex Paulsen, and Tony Cho. It was a nice break from a long workday, even if but a brief respite, before going back for a late-night work session with her difficult boss. All three worked for GHD Global Security and Investigations. Their San Francisco office was one of several similar offices located in various parts of the world, with headquarters based on the east coast of the United States, in the State of Virginia.

In recent months, Janet had moved to the City by the Bay hoping to move forward with her life and find some measure of relief from the trying events she'd experienced nearly two years earlier. Desperately searching for her abducted friend, Sally Irwin, had culminated in the horrific realization that her best friend had been forced into participating in the 'oldest profession.' The string of events leading up to the actual rescue of Sally had a serious impact on Janet as well. Both women ultimately paid for those experiences with diagnoses of PTSD. And although Janet's diagnosis was less severe than Sally's, either way, neither one would ever be the same again. Her nagging question was whether or not she and Sally would be able to remain friends or end up moving in different directions. Only time would tell.

Janet met Alex and Tony her first day at Global. Both were born and raised in the area. Alex grew up in Daly City. He was twenty-eight, just over six feet tall, blue-eyed, with sandy blonde hair neatly trimmed, although one small hank of hair liked to droop slightly just above his right eye. He had an obvious interest in Janet; although he never came right out and said anything nor had they ever officially dated.

Tony grew up in the Sunset district of San Francisco. He was of Asian descent, shorter than Alex by about three inches, with dark eyes that often seemed to suggest he was up to something mischievous. His hair was dark and not as short as Alex's, but still neatly trimmed. Most of the time, he displayed a playful personality and loved to tease people, especially his buddy, Alex. He also liked to keep tabs on any office drama since he had a good view from his desk of the various bullpens in the suite.

Because it was so late, when they left the restaurant, both Alex and Tony were understandably concerned about Janet returning to work at that time of night and being alone with her difficult and demanding boss. They even suggested they return to the office with her, just to be on the safe side. She declined their offer, but they still insisted on escorting her back to the building before sharing a cab to their homes.

Once inside the very spacious but now softly lit lobby, Janet quietly approached a desk staffed by a building security officer. She let him know of her intentions, then headed for the bank of elevators that serviced the nearly fifty floors of the building located in the financial district of downtown San Francisco.

She felt a momentary shiver up her spine as she waited for an elevator car. It surprised her, but she shook it off, figuring it only had to do with the fact that she had to spend more time with her boss. While waiting, Janet recalled the sudden and unexpected demand by her boss, Ray Martindale, insisting that she work late. It was on the heels of two phone calls he'd received earlier in the day and while she was sitting with him in his office. Regarding both calls, he was his usual hot-tempered and demanding self. That, alone, kept her on edge.

Short, slightly bald, and very rotund, he expressed little tolerance for excuses, no matter what the reason. He expected staff to dig in and go the extra mile with their work responsibilities but rarely paid overtime in exchange and with nary a word of thanks. Although illegal, he insisted that extra time off offered in exchange was sufficient. The problem was that most staff didn't get to use any extra time off. When a previous employee decided to report him to human resources, she ended up getting fired before the day was over. No one could understand how Ray managed to get away a lot of his sketchy business practices, but he did.

Ray Martindale, Vice President and Managing Director of the Western Division of GHD Global Security and Investigations. He seemed to take great pleasure in badgering and bullying his staff. As his executive assistant, Janet managed to keep up appearances that she could handle him, but deep down, she was generally uncomfortable around the man. At first, she was fearful of him but soon learned she could usually call his bluff and he'd back down.

At the outset of her new job at Global, Janet was excited about and intrigued by the scope of Global's business reach. As a whole, Global handled everything from workplace violence and product contamination cases, to kidnapping and extortion situations that sometimes touched on drugs and human trafficking, and finally threats of terrorism. Some offices were busier with certain aspects of the company's scope of work than others. Either way, specialists traveled across the globe to meet with clients to assess and evaluate security or crisis needs of their businesses and corporations. The San Francisco office primarily serviced companies on the Pacific Rim. That included Asia, the South Pacific, South, and Central America, as well as parts of the United States and Canada.

Initially, it had not occurred to her that part some of the situations they addressed somewhat mirrored the type of activity that took place at the Quail Club where her friend had been taken. The difference, she decided, was that even though Sally had been a victim of kidnapping, extortion wasn't part of it. There was never a demand for any ransom for her friend's safe return.

A soft ding signaled the arrival of a car, and she waited for one of two elevators that serviced her floor. Her ascent was swift, but in that brief amount of time, she contemplated how agreeable, though grudgingly, her boss was about her dinner date with Alex and Tony. Of course, he did agree that she'd have to eat anyway, as justification for his approval, but in his next breath demanded she return immediately afterward to help him finish a time-sensitive proposal they had been working on for the past two weeks. In fact, his actual last words to her were, _"Just be back here precisely at eight!"_

The elevator slowed, the car stopped, and the doors opened. Janet took in a deep breath in anticipation of enduring a few more hours with Ray and stepped out into a corridor lit only by security lighting in a few places and a very dark Global office suite directly across from her. She moved closer to the wide and heavy glass door entrance to the office suite. Except for the regulatory green-lit exit signs within, there was no indication anyone else was around.

GHD Global. On her first day at work, she had to ask what GHD stood for. Evidently, three businessmen began the company over a decade ago; Jaxon Gerrard, Michael Hannity, and Cameron Davis. Thus, GHD Securities was born. After three years, however, they sold the business, and the name to the fledgling company changed to Global Enterprises. Soon after, the new owners decided to merge both names, hence GHD Global Enterprises. Finally, two years later, the business expanded into a security and investigations company due to the increasing threat of violence and exploitation around the world and became GHD Global Security and Investigations.

At this moment, however, she had to ask, w _here is my boss and why is the office dark?_ Uneasiness swept over her. Her first inclination was to get back on the elevator and leave. _Perhaps he stepped out to get some dinner too,_ she silently thought. _But when he returns, he'll expect me to be here waiting_. With the sure expectation that he would show up soon, she decided to go in and get settled. She withdrew her access card and started to hold it up to the scan pad but stopped. The large glass door was slightly ajar and propped open with a wooden wedge. She thought it odd Ray would do that. He knew her access card would allow her access. He also knew that leaving the door propped open meant the entire suite would be vulnerable to access by anyone. It was a direct violation of their company's strict safety protocols, as well as that of the building management.

The only other reason he might have propped open the door was to re-enter without his access card, surmising he may have needed to use the restroom and didn't have it on him at the time. But why are all the lights turned off?

Janet tentatively opened the door and stepped inside. Another unexpected and involuntary quiver shot up her spine, and she wondered if she should call building security. She tentatively took a few more steps, then reacted with a start when the heavy glass door quietly closed with a soft click then decided she must have inadvertently moved the wedge. The click meant the door was now electronically locked. In some ways, she was glad due to her own safety concerns, but at the same time, if Ray were on his way back from the restroom, he'd be very angry if he found himself locked out. She decided to wait at the reception desk for a few minutes, to let him in, if necessary.

The quiet was eerie then she thought she heard voices coming from somewhere within the suite. Cautiously she stepped away from the reception desk to get a better view of the suite and to listen. With her eyes now adjusted to the darkness, she quickly glanced around the suite. Ray's office door was shut with no noticeable light showing through the long narrow adjacent window, and the privacy mini blinds were also closed. She quietly walked to her desk and set her bag down but continued to listen. She realized muffled voices were coming from the conference room. The door was closed but she could see a faint line of light at the threshold. Someone was in the room.

Suddenly she heard a loud voice. It was Ray, and it was obvious he was either on a phone call or someone was with him. Either way, he was angry. As if in reply to her unspoken question, she heard another voice and then one other. Three men but the voices of the other two did not sound familiar. One thing was certain, it was obvious they were arguing, but she couldn't quite make out what they were saying. She carefully crept closer, not wanting anyone to know she was out in the suite listening. At the same time, she was surprised at her feelings of concern for her boss and his safety.

The volume of the conversation escalated, and she heard warnings from each of them. Suddenly, two gunshots echoed throughout the stillness of the office suite. Janet reacted with a jerk and for a split second stood frozen, then hurriedly retreated to her desk. She grabbed her bag and crawled beneath her desk then pulled her task chair in close. Almost immediately she realized she would still be visible to anyone since the legs of the desk raised it off the floor a few inches. Frantic, she desperately tried to figure out how to avoid detection. She placed her oversized black bag between her legs and the backside of the desk hoping it would be sufficient.

Suddenly the conference room door opened throwing light into the suite. Almost as suddenly the light went out, and all she could see was the beam of a flashlight bouncing around accompanied by heavy footsteps. Someone was coming her way. She remained beneath her desk watching the beam of light move back and forth casting odd shadows throughout the suite. Janet wished they would leave. Then two men started arguing again, but neither one was Ray.

"It's got to be in there somewhere!" one of them said.

The other argued back. "There's no time to look! Come on! Someone may have heard the gunshots and called the cops."

"Who's gonna hear!" the first man insisted. "There's nobody in the place this time of night! And what about the merchandise he was also supposed to hand over, huh?" He kept stalling. "That's what started everything! How are we going to explain why we're coming back empty-handed and that we probably killed the guy instead?"

"I don't care! I just wanna get out of here. We'll figure something out."

"Yeah, but without the merchandise, we're screwed."

"We'll find someone else. There are women all over this town. We'll just grab one and make our delivery. Let's go!"

Janet nearly gave herself away with a tiny gasp. Merchandise? Women all over town? Just exactly why did Ray want me to come back late tonight if he had planned to meet these two guys here as well?

One of the men wasn't ready to leave. "Let's at least get the money he owes us!" he said.

"Look!" the second man replied. "If we get caught in here and with a dead guy, we're going to prison for the rest of our lives; with or without the merchandise and with or without the money."

"Maybe she'll show up anyway," the first man said. "We'll nab her and take her with us. In fact, we should take _him_ with us! As proof, he tried to double-cross us!"

"We can't drag a dead body outta here without being seen! And I don't want to wait around here for some woman he promised would show up. Like I said, we can grab someone else down on the street. A working girl. Now let's go!"

"He wasn't dead!" the first man said. "He was still moving and moaning. We could force him to walk outta here."

"Yeah, well he'd probably be dead by the time we got down to the street. You saw the way he was bleeding, so there's no point to walking him out. Besides, I don't care," the second man said. "He deserves to die. He's cheap. We take all the risks, but he pocket's most of the cash. And I tried his office door when we first got here, remember? It was locked. Now come on!"

"We can break it down!" the first man said.

"We don't have time! Let's go!"

_"Damn!_ " the first man said.

_"Now!"_ the second man demanded.

Janet heard the shuffling of feet.

"I don't know where you think we're going to find someone to hand over," the first man said.

"Yeah, well, we can't go back without something of value. You know that!" the second man said.

"Yeah, well, no prostitute will do!" the first man said.

"And if you hadn't shot Ray, we wouldn't have this problem, would we!" the second man said. "We'd have our money and the merchandise he promised."

"Well it was his fault," the first man said. "He pulled a gun first! I was just defending myself!"

Janet heard more shuffling feet.

"Suit yourself," the second man said. "Stay if you like, but I'm outta here!"

Janet could hear heavy footsteps hurry away, indicating at least one of them was leaving. Seconds later more footsteps followed. She heard the entry door open then a remark that knotted her stomach.

"Look!" the second man said. "Someone moved the wedge."

"What'd you mean?"

"The wedge. See? The block of wood. We left it in place so we could get back in if we had to. It's inside now, and the door was closed which means someone else must be in here." A light shined around again. Janet could tell they were coming back. They stopped next to her desk casting the beam of light around the darkened suite. She remained as still as possible.

One of them whispered. "Maybe she _is_ here and heard everything."

There was silence. Janet struggled to maintain her composure to avoid detection. Flashlights continued to play around the suite. However, at the street level far below, she heard sounds of multiple sirens approaching.

"We don't have time to look," the second man said. "We need to get out of here before the cops find us."

Moments later the heavy glass door closed with a soft click then it grew quiet again. Janet remained where she was. Her breathing was shallow, and her heart pounded. She wanted to get out of the office too, but based on what she'd just overheard, she knew it wasn't safe. And in spite of their concerns about getting caught, she was sure those two men would be watching for her from somewhere. She remained where she was and silently began to count to one hundred.

# CHAPTER 2

Earlier that Monday morning Janet awoke to her annoying alarm clock and stretched. She grimaced then remembered a few years back someone she worked with would always greet everyone on Mondays with a trademark phrase, "Happy _moan_ -day."

With little enthusiasm, she showered and dressed, grabbed an apple to eat on the bus ride into town, then locked her apartment and headed out. It was her routine. Shouldering a large handbag, she made her way down a steep incline to the street and hurried to the corner bus stop in her Potrero Hill neighborhood. Being December, it was damp and dark going into work and just as damp and dark coming home in the evening, but she'd gotten used to it.

Today's ride into town was not much different than any other day with lots of stops and starts as commuters climbed onboard. She passed the time gazing at all the festive holiday decorations along the way.

By the time they reached Market Street, the bus was packed. Janet prepared to get off at a light rail station to catch a train to take her farther downtown. The bus finally came to a stop, and she disembarked along with several others.

The train ride was less comfortable as the car jerked and rattled its way along. Janet tuned out the noise and other distractions by thinking about her new job in San Francisco and how much she loved the City with all its energy and eclectic lifestyles. She enjoyed the variety of venues; things so unique to this bustling community. On the other hand, she missed the southern California beaches and shopping with friends or catching a movie and going out for ice cream afterward. She hadn't made many friends yet, other than her association with co-workers, Alex and Tony, in particular, but outside of them, that's where it ended. Once everyone left for the day, she was alone.

She mulled over a recent phone call from a former co-worker and friend at her last job. Stacy had some other concerns and reminded her that as happy as she thought she was, she still couldn't run away from her past and especially the trauma associated with Sally's abduction from that swanky Bel Air party nearly six months ago. Her parting words of caution were to find a new therapist and take care of herself.

"Distracting yourself with work and just spending time with co-workers during the day won't make everything else you have to deal with go away," Stacy had said. "You're still going to have to learn to cope with all that other stuff that happened to Sally and you, which is why you need to see another shrink," she said.

Janet stared out the window as the train rumbled along. With Christmas and other holidays approaching, storefronts, one by one, began putting up displays to welcome the festive season. Part of her agreed with Stacy, and although she knew getting a new counselor was probably a good idea, right now a bigger part of her didn't want to think about any of that previous incident. The memories were still too fresh. Her self-prescribed coping mechanism was to push that all aside and re-focus on the colorful sights and cacophony of sounds outside her train window at the moment and get to work on time. Once there, she would focus on the job. That's it.

Stacy also encouraged her to make some new friends; people with whom she could comfortably spend time. She even suggested Janet find a boyfriend. Janet smiled at that thought. _Just like that. Find a boyfriend,_ but that wasn't on her agenda right now, either. It was all she could do to handle her job and get a good night's rest. Occasional recurring and terrifying nightmares still plagued her sleep. She circled back to Stacy's concerns. See a shrink? _Okay, but not yet; not unless the nightmares increase_. For now, she felt confident she was handling things pretty well.

A particularly rough jolt brought Janet back to the present. She let out a satisfied sigh. She _was_ relatively happy, all things considered, for the first time in many months.

The train approached her stop. She clutched her bag and stood up, grabbed an overhead strap to steady herself and waited as the train came to a stop. The minute the doors opened a crush of people pressed toward all available exits, anxious to get off.

Janet stepped down to the sidewalk and into a typical morning drizzle. She checked the time on a large ornate clock in a storefront window, now part of a colorful holiday display. It had become a familiar sight and was in the perfect place to check her arrival time each morning. "Seven forty-eight," she said then started on the short walk to her building.

The elevator ride to the twenty-first floor was swift. She waited for a few others to exit, then walked directly across to the impressive entrance displaying the name _GHD Global Security and Investigations_ stenciled across the large thick glass door. Two equally impressive side windows presented a spacious and opulent entry to the suite. She pulled opened the large glass door and walked inside.

Hazel Simpson, the company's receptionist, greeted her with her usual bright and cheery smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning, Hazel."

"How was your commute?" Hazel asked. She was always at her desk before anyone else arrived and greeted most staff in the same manner. At the same time, she always appeared to be busy with something.

Janet gave her the usual reply then walked to her work area and deposited her bag on her desk. She hung her coat on a nearby freestanding coat tree and glanced around. A few staff had already arrived. She gave a slight wave to one of them who made eye contact and smiled. Janet sat down taking a good look at her desk and the several file folders stacked up and waiting for her attention.

Her desk sat about ten feet away from her boss's office allowing for foot traffic between the two. His office was situated along a portion of one wall and overlooked a busy street far below. His door was closed as were the mini blinds in his tall narrow adjacent window. It hadn't taken her too long to become familiar with the eccentricities and expectations of her boss as well as the job overall. When his office door was closed, he was busy and did not want to be disturbed and at this particular moment that suited her just fine.

Although Ray was cranky most of the time, he did have an occasional moment when he could be pleasant, but only for an occasional and very brief moment. She'd learned to stand her ground with him and tolerate his frequent outbursts when things didn't go quite his way, which seemed to be most of the time.

She figured him to be one who was possessive, even of his staff. On one particular day, someone needed some help and asked Ray for Janet's assistance. Ray's response was loud. _"I'm the boss! She is mine, and NO you cannot use her!"_

Janet later learned his previous personal assistance left because of his angry, possessive, and demanding outbursts. Quitting crossed her mind, off and on as well, but she always talked herself out of it, determined to stay and somehow make the best of it. Besides, she had no desire to start looking for another new job.

Ray's customary demeanor was always gruff. He had no problem interrupting her work or conversations with others throughout the day, usually with the demand that he needed her for something which usually turned out to be not much of anything.

She decided he enjoyed controlling her life at work and did so by keeping her very busy, even if the tasks were mundane and trivial much of the time. It also seemed to bother him when she interacted with other staff, especially if everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. More and more it felt like he treated her as a possession, rather than an employee. He did not want to share her with anyone else, but especially with other men in the office. He'd so much as said so to her at one point while they sat in his office one day _. "I'm not paying you to flirt with the males in this office. Stick to business!"_

Although she wasn't one to openly flirt with men, she did enjoy the opportunity to interact with others when she could, men and women alike. Otherwise, she did her best to stay occupied with her assignments.

Janet eventually found out Ray had been married years earlier. For some reason, he chose to share that detail of his personal life with her one afternoon. They were working on a particularly difficult contract which involved dealing with a woman whose demeanor and expectations reminded Janet of Ray in many ways. Ray, however, said the woman reminded him of someone irritating. He went on to share a little information about his former wife. It had been an unexpected tidbit of his personal life that she never expected he would have disclosed to her. He explained that the marriage hadn't lasted very long then hastily added, pointing a stubby finger at her, _"But that's just between you and me. I don't even know why I told you, so don't you go blabbing it all over the office,"_ he'd said, _"or I'll personally march you right out of here! Permanently!"_ She believed he meant it and kept his secret but couldn't help but wonder all the more about him.

Janet made the decision not to let her new boss get under her skin. That was especially true now. She did not want him to spoil Christmas for her.

Co-workers often worried about her and in particular, Alex Paulsen, a budget analyst in the Budgets Unit, in addition to co-worker, Tony Cho, also a budget analyst. They both worried about Ray's tirades and verbal expletives in the presence of everyone, but especially around Janet. They didn't like him disrespecting her with his crude language and inappropriate innuendos.

Alex and Tony occupied desks across from each other, which allowed them to discuss their work projects more easily, as well as anything else they wanted to talk about.

Tony, though, had a full view of Janet's work area, while Alex sat with his back to her desk forcing him to turn around if he wanted to see her. Once he asked his manager, Edna Harper, if he could switch desks with Tony but she emphatically said no. She was also gruff and to the point, and seemed to have a chip on her shoulder for some reason, but she wasn't nearly as bad as Ray Martindale.

"I don't know how she takes it," Alex said to Tony, referring to Janet this particular morning.

Tony was well aware of Alex's interest in Janet and would catch him watching her. "I know," he replied. "I really am surprised she hasn't quit already."

Right now, he and Alex were both watching Janet as she sat evidently intent on an assignment.

Ray's office door swung open suddenly. He stood glaring out at the clustered desks of support staff, arranged by department. Alex and Tony watched him march to Janet's desk.

She was fully aware of his presence, but remained calm and didn't acknowledge him until he was standing next to her. He cleared his throat to get her attention.

She looked up and smiled. "What can I do for you, Mr. Martindale?" She continued to smile. She had also discovered that in most cases, she could usually disarm him a little by staying calm and keeping a smile on her face.

He hesitated briefly then asked her to come to his office. She picked up a note pad and pen and followed but not without noticing Alex's and Tony's concerned looks. She gave them a slight thumbs-up before disappearing inside Ray's office. The door closed and all was quiet.

"I don't like it," Alex said, staring at the closed door. "Who knows what goes on when they're in there alone?"

"Take it easy, pal," Tony said. "She can take care of herself. You've seen that."

"I know but –"

"She'll be fine. Come on. We need to get back to work before our boss jumps all over us. You can talk to Janet at lunch."

Alex stared at the door a moment longer then reluctantly got back to work, entering figures into a spreadsheet but couldn't get his mind off of Janet.

Twenty minutes later, she quietly stepped out of Ray's office and went back to her desk, placing a couple of bulging files on it. Tony noticed but didn't say anything to Alex, who was, by now, fully engrossed in his work. No point in interrupting him and risking the wrath of their own boss. Alex had already been spoken to a couple of times during the past month with a warning from Edna that if he couldn't stay on task, she'd send him packing.

Edna Harper, the supervisor of the Budgets Unit, was every bit the classic spinster. They figured she was probably in her mid to late fifties. Her hair was streaked with gray and usually pulled back in a severe bun at the base of her head. She preferred to wear somber-looking clothing, mostly gray, brown, or black, but she never wore slacks, always a skirt and blouse and a blazer jacket of some kind. Her only makeup was a particular shade of deep pink lipstick that was in stark contrast to her sullen skin color.

Tony would quip that they'd be hard-pressed to find a smile cross her face. Alex always agreed. Her stern demeanor was accentuated by small brown eyes that seemed to squint most of the time. The overall look presented a rather foreboding personality when she marched around the office, as if on a combat mission. People would step aside to let her pass and avoid any unwanted skirmishes. Ray was the exception. Once, Tony noticed Ray and Edna on a certain collision course along one aisle. Both stopped abruptly. They eyed each other, but neither stepped aside. After a brief staring contest, both retreated and found different routes.

Tony's musing was interrupted when he suddenly sensed Edna's presence. He casually got back to work but didn't dare turn around. He waited until he heard her door click shut then relaxed a little and counted to ten before taking a look. She was nowhere to be seen and the blinds in the window alongside her door were completely shut. In addition to him and Alex, their finance team also included Peter Bradshaw and Marcus Cummings. Both men were in their late forties and dreaded interactions with Edna as well.

Tony made brief eye-contact with each of them, sitting at opposing desk close to theirs. They each exchanged knowing looks, then got back to their tasks.

Alex looked up then winced.

"What?" Tony asked.

"A slat of her blinds is tipped open," Alex said. "She's spying on us again. Does she really think we don't notice?"

"I sure wish we knew what her problem is," Tony said.

"I know, right?" Alex said. "We come to work, get stuff done in fact usually do good work with few errors, and then we go home. Doesn't she have anything better to do?"

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "I wonder what _she_ does all day to have time to spy on the rest of us. It's for sure we're kept plenty busy." He checked his watch. "Twenty more minutes before lunch. I'm really hungry. Where do we want to eat today?" he asked.

"Makes no difference to me," Alex replied. "Why don't we ask Janet and Hazel to join us? We'll let them decide."

"Hazel won't want to come," Tony said, "but Janet might." He looked at his watch again. "Eighteen minutes."

Alex grinned. "Staring at your watch won't make the time pass any faster, you know."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm really hungry." He looked at Alex with a pained expression.

"It's not working pal. I'm not buying it."

"But I really am hungry."

Edna's door suddenly flew open. "Get back to work!" she barked at them. "I don't pay you to entertain each other!"

Tony picked up a pen and began jotting notes on a piece of paper.

Alex kept typing on his keyboard. It was gibberish, but at least he appeared to be busy. As soon as Edna returned to her office, he deleted what he'd just typed, but from the corner of his eye, he could see a slat move again. He typed some more.

Just before noon, Alex called Hazel and Janet. Tony was right about Hazel, but Janet was eager to get out of the office for a while. A few minutes later, all three stood at the elevator waiting for a car to arrive. Once onboard, it began its rapid descent to the lobby, and for those few moments they discussed their lunchtime options. Once out of the building, they headed for the Embarcadero.

A popular walkup provided sandwiches, chips, and sodas. They found an available table undercover on a deck overlooking the Bay and got settled. From their vantage point, they could watch the activity on the busy waterway. The drizzle had given way sufficiently for a few pleasure craft to enjoy the midday weather. Container ships, tied up at the Port of Oakland across the bay, were either unloading large boxy containers or stacking numerous ones up to get ready to ship to parts unknown. A commuter ferry was inbound and let out a blast as it approached. A moment later, a pleasure craft scooted across in front of the bow of the ferry. The pilot let go another blast then soon pulled in and up to the pier to tie up and let off its passengers.

Alex took a bite of his sandwich before opening the discussion with a remark about Ray. "He sure seemed to be in a foul mood this morning."

Janet laughed. "When is he not in a foul mood?"

"So, what did he want?" Alex asked.

"The usual," Janet replied. "To go over more proposals. He gave me two more to work on. I still have one that needs to be wrapped up soon, in addition to the one I have to work on with him later this afternoon. I don't know how he figures I'm supposed to get everything done when he keeps giving me more."

"More. How much more?"

"Two more. They're both due in three weeks. You know, I think it's great that Global is getting a lot of business, but I think Ray enjoys piling on the work just to watch me squirm and stress. He's crazy, that's all I can say."

"So why do you keep working for him?" Tony asked.

"I need the job, and it pays pretty well, especially when you consider how expensive it is to live around here. Besides, as I've said before, I'm not all that eager to look for a new job right in the middle of the Christmas Holiday season. I can handle him, but he's just such a weird person."

"Weird," Alex and Tony both said in unison.

"Yes, weird. One minute he's totally focused on a project. Gets really into it and has me running down information that often doesn't even seem pertinent to what we're working on and then the next minute he tells me to stop what I'm doing and get started on something else. It's hard to keep some of it straight sometimes." She grew quiet and stared out across the choppy water. In addition to gas-powered watercraft, a few brave souls were taking advantage of the breezy weather to navigated their sailboats.

She shivered and pulled the hood of her jacket over her head for warmth then continued. "You know sometimes it's as if he's working on one thing but thinking about something else. I don't know. It's just weird."

Alex studied her for a moment. "Just how many contracts are you working on at the moment?"

"Too many," she said.

"What, like three or four?"

She let out a laugh. "How about fifteen? I counted this morning. Fifteen contracts and they're all in different phases of completion. We'll get so far on one of them, and then he yanks it and wants to work on another one."

"Domestic or International contracts?"

"Both, but more of them are international. Asia in particular."

"Asia," he replied.

"Yeah. China, Korea, and Indonesia mostly. All for large companies that want us to help with their security systems. They're worried about terrorism."

"I see." He finished his sandwich then reached for her hand. "Don't let him get to you."

She smiled. "I'll try not to. I make an effort not to let him get under my skin but he'll shift gears so quickly sometimes and get angry because I'm not keeping up. And yet, the other day, he let me know that I've stayed with him longer than anybody else. What does that tell you? I've only been working for him for nine months!"

Tony wadded up his empty sandwich wrapper. "We remember the gal who was here before you, but she was a nervous wreck all the time. I think she lasted about three months; don't you think?" He looked at Alex. "What was her name again?"

"Stella. But I don't think she lasted three months. Maybe two."

"Right. Stella," Tony said. "She was nice. I liked her, and she seemed to do a good job except she couldn't handle Ray the way you do."

Alex agreed. "Yeah, I liked her too, but you're right, she wasn't the right type of person to work with Ray, who by the way has only been here a little over a year and a half himself."

"Really?" Janet asked. "To hear him talk you'd think he'd been here a lot longer than that."

"Nope," Tony said. "I've been here longer than him and Alex came on board about three months after Ray was hired, wasn't it?"

Alex nodded. "Other than that, I think everyone else has been here longer than any of us except for you and Hazel."

"Hazel."

"Yeah. She was hired about a month after Alex. Evidently Ray didn't like Brent."

"Brent? Who's Brent?"

Tony made a face. "Brent was the receptionist before Hazel. Didn't we ever tell you about Brent?"

Janet shook her head.

"He'd been here about four years, I think. It was really sad. He walked in one morning and saw Hazel sitting at his desk. She must have called Ray because he came busting out of his office and yelled at Brent to get out. Then Edna appeared out of nowhere with his last check. Heck, Hazel already had his stuff boxed up. Then he was gone."

"That's mean," Janet said. "Why didn't you tell me about Brent before now?"

"I don't know. Well maybe because we didn't want to scare you off!" Tony laughed. "We like you and want to keep you around. Anyway, it's the way big business likes to roll. You know, in today, out tomorrow; and they don't even have to tell you why you're getting fired.

"True," Alex said, "but Ray's method was worse. Brent hadn't done anything wrong other than be a guy and a great guy at that. It's been obvious ever since then that Ray prefers having young and pretty women around."

Both men looked at Janet uneasily.

She didn't respond.

Tony grew pensive. "Us guys have to be on our best behavior all the time, but even that won't guarantee we get to keep our jobs. Brent always made a great first impression with all clientele who came to Global."

Janet frowned. "Hazel seems to do a good job greeting people."

"Yes, she does, but she's also a flirt. Any man that walks through that door gets a lot more attention from her than women do," Tony said. "Brent, on the other hand, was a professional. He was courteous and helpful, but he didn't flirt. He didn't bat his eyes at all the women. He treated everyone the same." Tony paused for a heartbeat. "But Hazel? He shook his head. "She even flirts with Ray, which I find disgusting."

Alex nodded. "Yeah. I barely had a chance to get to know Brent, but I ran into him about a month after he lost his job with us. I was at Fisherman's Wharf, and he was there having dinner with his fiancé and a few other friends; it was at Alioto's in fact, and there he was. We talked. He'd found another job and seemed really happy. He got married a few months after that. I saw the announcement in the paper. I was really happy for him. Heck sometimes I wish they'd fire me."

"What? Why?" Janet was surprised. "If you're not happy, just leave."

"Naw, I don't really want to leave."

"But you just said –"

Alex laughed. "I know. But I didn't mean it. Not really. Sure, there are days when I think I'd rather be working somewhere else, but I'd miss both of you! And besides, I get what you said about this not being the best time of year to job hunt."

Janet rolled her eyes and made a face, but she thought about what he said. Even Alex seemed to lead a contradictory life sometimes.

"Speaking of work," Tony said. "We'd better get back."

Alex's phone rang. He looked at the caller ID. "You both get started. I'll catch up. I have to take this."

"We can wait," Janet said.

"No. That's okay. You go ahead. I won't be far behind. Besides, the wind's picking up, and it's getting colder out again. The fog back is probably right off the coast and just waiting to sneak in and swallow us all up." He laughed at Janet's expression. "Well, sometimes it feels like that." He laughed again. "Okay, you don't want to walk in late only to be greeted by a box full of your stuff waiting at the front counter, do you?" He grinned. "I won't take long. I'll See you back at the office."

Janet and Tony walked away while Alex stood looking around. Finally, he wandered to the opposite side of the pier. Janet looked back briefly in time to see him approach a man dressed in a dark overcoat, but his back was toward them. She slowed down. Tony also noticed and stopped completely.

"Who's that?" she asked.

Tony looked. "I have no idea," he said. "I don't recognize him." He took Janet's arm. "Come on. We need to get back." They took a couple of steps when he abruptly stopped and pulled out his phone. He took a picture then started walking again but stared at the photo.

"What. Who is it?" Janet asked.

"Don't know." He pocketed his phone. "We'd better hurry. I don't want to deal with Edna any more than you want to put up with Ray. And Alex had better hurry up otherwise he _will_ have to deal with Edna but on his own. Come on."

# CHAPTER 3

Janet and Tony stepped off the elevator and hurried into the office.

"Have a good lunch?" Hazel asked.

Janet slowed down long enough to reply. "We did."

Tony didn't stop.

"Well he's in a friendly mood," Hazel said.

"He doesn't want to incur the ire of his boss," Janet replied. "We did have a nice lunch, even though it's cold outside and it feels like the fog is on the verge of making its way inland again. A lot of shoppers out – you know. Mostly, it just felt good to get out of the building for a while."

Hazel smiled and nodded. "I know what you mean. And the storefronts are looking more and more festive every day," she said. "I do love this time of year."

"Yes," Janet said, "but I wish they'd wait until the day after Thanksgiving to start putting up all the Christmas decorations. As much as I love Christmas, it just seems like Thanksgiving barely gets a nod being sandwiched in between Halloween and Christmas."

"I know, huh. That is sad in a way, but oh well. I'm still excited about Christmas." She directed her attention to Peter, who'd just come in as well.

"Hello, Peter," she said in a dreamy voice then flashed a winning smile.

He responded in kind. "You're looking lovely today," he said. "As always."

"Thank you, Peter." Hazel watched him disappear around a corner. "He's so handsome," she said quietly. "Don't you think so?"

Janet followed her gaze. "I suppose."

Hazel smiled and turned away. Their brief exchange was obviously over.

Janet returned to her desk. The guys were right. Hazel was flirty, and yes, especially with men. All men. Didn't matter their age, and they all ate it up. She had that ready smile, a nearly perfect figure, and a beautiful face. Her blonde hair was always nicely styled, and her green eyes danced and sparkled as she spoke. Flirtatious or not, she could charm and brighten the day of just about anyone coming or going at Global. Plus, she stayed on top of things, managed numerous and ongoing phone calls, as well as the unexpected visitor, all without skipping a beat, or so it seemed.

Janet stood for a moment recalling a remark she overheard Tony mention to Alex that he thought she wiggled and giggled too much. It was sometime later she found out that Tony had asked her to dinner, once, but she turned him down flat. End of story.

Janet put her purse in an empty desk drawer and pulled off her coat, hanging it on the nearby coat tree. Before getting settled, she grabbed her mug and went to the break room to fix a cup of hot tea.

Her mind wandered. It was one of those unexpected and reflexive moments from her past. This time it had to do with her decision to leave southern California nine months ago and move to San Francisco. She was sure the change would help alleviate unpleasant memories of her traumatic experience over two years ago. She replayed the night of that party she and Sally both attended; the night when Sally was abducted. If only she had managed to get Sally out of that place sooner. If only she had insisted, they leave. Heck, if only they had never gone in the first place. Janet was still plagued with guilt, feeling the whole incident could have been avoided if only she's done something different.

Images flooded her mind; the crowd, the music, the food and drinks, and the drugs. She shook her head in an attempt to shake away the images then snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Ray's voice out in the suite. He was yelling for her. She rushed back to her desk, trying not to spill her tea. "Yes, Mr. Martindale. I'm here."

"Get in my office!"

Janet set her tea down then grabbed a note pad and pen. She approached his partially open office door and tapped lightly. He waved her in. She entered and closed the door, then quietly sat across the desk from him.

She watched him hastily scribble notes on a sheet of paper and after a moment looked up. "You need to stay late tonight," he said abruptly. "We have to get this _Todos o Nada_ contract finished before we leave today. It needs to go out first thing tomorrow morning. I've already arranged for a courier to pick it up."

"H-How late?"

He slammed his pen down. "Until it's done!" With his usual lack of diplomacy and respect, she knew the rest of the day was going to be an especially challenging one; perhaps more so than other days. He was in the middle of lecturing her and reminding her of her obligations when his phone rang.

He yanked it off the cradle and barked into the mouthpiece, "What!" He listened. "I'm in the middle of a staff meeting. We'll have to talk later." He listened again. "Later!" He slammed down the receiver and picked up where he'd left off.

With a penetrating glare, he continued his scolding. "You were told from day one that you might have to work late on occasion. Up until now, I've let you get away with saying no, most of the time. Well this is one of those occasions when no won't work! So, unless you're interested in looking for another job, you'll stay here tonight working until I say you can go. Understood!"

She nodded but must have had a look on her face he didn't like.

He barked again, "You have a problem with that!"

"N-No – it's just that I was going to have dinner with friends right after work – but I can take a rain check," she quickly added. "It's not a problem. I'll stay late."

He didn't say anything but narrowed his eyes and cocked his head slightly to one side. The phone rang again. Annoyed, he snatched it up. "What is it!" Ray listened for a moment then responded. "Fine. Yes!" He listened again. "I told you I'd have the package ready. Now stop calling me!" He slammed down the receiver and looked at Janet before nodding slightly. "Okay. Go ahead and have dinner with your friends. You'll need to eat, but make sure you're back here by eight o'clock. No later!"

Although surprised at his sudden change of heart, she thanked him.

"Just be back here _precisely_ at eight!"

"I will. I promise." She remained in her seat and watched him write more notes on a sheet of paper, expecting him to give her more instructions.

He looked up. "You just going to sit there all day? Get back to work!" He thrust his arm out and pointed to the door.

Janet jumped up.

"Shut the door on your way out!"

She did and returned to her desk, letting out a heavy sigh as she sat down.

As exciting as the idea of living and working in San Francisco had been, more and more she began to question if moving here had really been such a good idea. Even though her boss was a jerk, she still loved The City. It was unique, with a diversity of cultures and distinct energy. It was nothing at all like Los Angeles. No. She wasn't going to let him get to her. She'd put up with his antics during the day but savor and enjoy The City the rest of the time.

Janet picked up her cup of tea, now barely lukewarm, and walked to a window out of Ray's view. She stood admiring the City skyline and attempted to calm down. The previous drizzle had become light rain with clouds swirling around the upper reaches of lofty high-rise buildings. Global's office suite was midway up their building and faced south and east providing a commanding view of parts of downtown, the Ferry Building, Bay Bridge, and the East Bay communities and hills beyond. Even with today's low clouds and damp weather, she could see quite a bit and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She sipped her tea then finally went back to her desk.

At some point, Alex managed to return from lunch without Janet noticing. She wondered about the man she and Tony saw him talking with after lunch. It was apparent they knew each other, but neither she nor Tony recognized him and Tony never did show her the photo he took.

Janet worked feverishly throughout the afternoon determined to get as much completed on the proposal as possible and hopefully avoid a long night working alone with Ray. Eventually, a co-worker reminded her it was almost five. Janet thanked him but kept at her task. The more she was able to complete now, the less she'd have to do later that evening. She halfway expected Ray to burst out of his office at any moment telling her he'd changed his mind and demand that she should remain at work anyway. But he didn't.

"Shouldn't you be going home right about now?"

Janet looked up and smiled. Faye, a lovely-looking African American woman, was the floor's housekeeper but somehow seemed out of place pushing a cleaning cart. Faye always managed to take time to say hello to anyone still hanging around and generally came in just before five o'clock every evening to empty trash, dust, and vacuum after everyone left.

"How's your day going?" she asked.

"Pretty much the same," Janet replied. "My boss' outbursts and demands are pretty routine. Today he demanded I stay late, then abruptly agreed I could go have dinner first, _"but be back here at eight!"_ Janet made a quiet attempt to imitate Ray including poking her finger on her desktop to accentuate each word.

Faye grinned and chuckled. "Not bad," she said in response to the mild theatrics. "Well alright but I'd be very careful if I were you. I'm a little concerned about you being up here alone with him late at night."

"I'll be okay. I think his bark is much worse than his bite. In fact, I'm not sure he even bites. It's all a facade, as far as I'm concerned. I think he's insecure. Probably had a horrid childhood, although it's difficult to imagine him as a child."

Faye chuckled again. "Well, okay, but you watch yourself."

"I will." She looked up at Faye. "You know I could write a book about the stuff that goes on around this place."

"Well, darling, maybe you should. Who knows? You might become rich and famous someday and be able to walk away from all of this."

Janet laughed. "Do you have any idea how remote a possibility that would be?"

"People do it all the time," Faye said.

"Yes, well, I'm not a writer. I just meant –"

"I know what you meant." Faye grinned and glanced around the room. "Still, I don't know how you manage to keep sane around that man."

Janet sat back and stretched. "I made a deliberate choice not to let him get to me. For the most part, it's working. Sometimes I'll bark right back at him. To be honest, I don't think I have to worry all that much about getting fired because I don't think he's all that eager to train another new assistant."

"Even so, I'd be careful," Faye replied. "If you were to cross that man, especially on a particularly stressful day, he might anyway."

"I know, but I'm careful. He usually backs down when I snap back and apologizes in his own _unique_ way."

"Unique way?"

"Yes. He'll turn his back toward me, mumble something incoherent, then hurry back to his office. I have no idea what he says, but I doubt it's a sincere 'I'm sorry.'

Faye had to laugh. "Miss Janet, you are very special. I really like you, and that man is lucky to have you."

"I like you too. You are always a bright spot in my day. As for Ray, lucky or not, I don't foresee him changing any time soon, if ever."

"Well I'd better get back to work," Faye said. "I'll see you tomorrow. You can fill me in on how things panned out tonight." She continued on her rounds, emptying wastebaskets, wiping down dusty file cabinets and equipment all while chatting with a few of the staff still at their desks.

Janet watched her for a few minutes. Based on some of their conversations, Janet couldn't help but wonder about Faye's background. She was smart and must have had some formal education. Plus, she had a certain confidence in the way she carried herself. So why work as a custodian? Janet continued to watch Faye move from desk to desk, chatting with everyone then pause at Alex's desk. They chatted while she emptied his wastebasket. Janet started to break her gaze then stopped. _Did Faye just retrieve a slip of paper from Alex's trash and casually shove it in a pocket of her smock?_

Janet kept watching until her phone rang. It was Ray. She picked up and listened, then hung up. Pad and pen in hand, she headed for Ray's office but still curious about what she just saw. Write a book? If anyone wanted to get the scoop on the daily, dirty dealings at Global, Faye would be the one to ask. In fact, _she's_ the one who should write a book!

# CHAPTER 4

With a few last-minute instructions from Ray, Janet straightened up her desk and got ready to leave. She was anxious to get out of the office before Ray changed his mind and looked forward to having dinner with Alex and Tony.

Groups of people spilled out of the banks of elevators as part of a mass exodus wasting no time to leave the building. All were eager to call it a day and either make their way home or meet up with friends for dinner or drinks. Janet happily met up with Alex and Tony waiting for her in the lobby.

"We were beginning to think your boss changed his mind," Tony said.

"No. Sorry I'm late, but he had to give me last minute instructions and a reminder about getting back. It's just his way of reminding me he's in charge."

"Yeah, well, let's go," he said. "I'm starved and want to get out of here. It's been a day. Edna was on one of her typical spying missions today."

Janet giggled. "Spying missions."

"Yeah," Tony said. "She's always spying on us then loves to jump out of her office to yell at us."

Alex gave Tony a slight nudge. "Enough about work. Let's go." He walked next to Janet. "So, how's that project coming?"

"Good," she replied. "I made a lot of headway today, in spite of a few interruptions from Ray. It shouldn't take that long to wrap it up when I go back later this evening."

They headed for a favorite place a couple of blocks away. It was beginning to fill with patrons, but they managed to be seated at a window table.

Tony looked over the menu, decided what he wanted, and put it aside. "You know Edna's bad enough, but Ray – now he is one special person." You couldn't miss the sarcasm in his voice.

I know," Janet replied. "It's just his style. but the worst part is I think I'm getting used to it."

"That's a scary thought," Alex said and chuckled.

"Right?" she laughed. "Okay. I thought we weren't going to talk about work. I just want to relax and enjoy a nice meal with both of you. We can talk about anything _but_ work."

Janet gazed out the window at the Christmas displays across the street. She smiled. This was definitely a favorite time of year.

In spite of her request, Alex and Tony talked about a project they both had been assigned to work on, so Janet continued her gazing. The street and sidewalks were wet now, as a mild cold front moved into the Bay Area. The rain was light, but she didn't mind. Here and there, puddles reflected light from the window displays and street lights while the headlights of vehicles shone through the dampness and the darkness as they plied their way through the artificial canyons of towering skyscrapers. All of it added to the festive mood of the season.

"I'm glad we're having dinner together," she said. "It's a nice break."

"How late do you think you'll have to stay tonight when you go back?" Tony asked.

"Hopefully not too long. I don't want to miss the last bus back to my neighborhood." She let out a sigh. "If Ray would stick to one task at a time, we'd get more done. But he's always stopping in the middle of one thing to work on something else. I sometimes wonder if he even knows what he's doing. Plus, I tend to get things mixed up because of it."

Alex shook his head. "Yeah, and I'll bet that doesn't go over very well."

"No. It doesn't. He's always yelling at me about something."

Tony looked around for the waitress. "I'm sorry, but I still can't figure out why you've stayed this long," he said then looked at Janet. "I know we've already talked about it and we really like having you around, but I'm sure you could find a better job someplace else, with a better boss and still somewhere here in the City."

She sighed again. "You're probably right, but I'm just not in the mood to start looking for another job right now. I'll manage."

A waitress showed up and took their order. Once she left, Alex gently took Janet's hand. "Maybe we should go back with you after dinner. I've got some stuff I can work on." He looked at Tony who nodded. "That way you won't be alone with the guy. To be honest, I don't trust him which makes me worry all the more."

Janet grinned, appreciative of their concern. "I think he's just rough around the edges. I'll be fine. No point in all three of us staying late and listening to him bellow and bark all night."

Although secretly she'd love it if they did go back with her, she didn't want to create an uncomfortable situation for them, and she was sure Ray wouldn't be pleased. Mostly she had to keep her part of the bargain and be back by eight o'clock. It would avoid an otherwise inevitable backlash from him. And there was always this nagging feeling he would terminate her at the slightest provocation. That would force her to look for another job, like it or not. She sometimes wondered why he hired her in the first place.

The rest of the evening was pleasant, and the meal was satisfying. They did talk about a lot of other things, instead of work, until it was time for Janet to get back to the office.

They stepped out into the chilly night air. A slight mist swirled around creating a nearly surreal atmosphere. Hazel was right about one thing, the Christmas lights and other holiday decorations in storefronts were cheerful. The colored lights scattered by the misty air created an almost enchanting aura and the clang of a nearby cable car added to the festive atmosphere as people still crowded the sidewalks even at this late hour and in the dampness. She had come to realize this was life in The City.

The men flanked her as they set out for their building. "Tony and I already decided we're going back with you," Alex said. "We don't care what Ray thinks."

Janet stopped. "No. You're not. There's no point in all three of us spending the next couple of hours hanging around the office. Go home or not, but you don't need to subject yourselves to Ray's tirade because that's exactly what will happen." She smiled. "You know he'll order you both to leave."

"Well, we're walking you to the building, like it or not. We don't feel comfortable with you being out here alone at night."

Tony agreed. "He's right, Janet. We insist on going with you to the building to at least make sure you get inside safely. It's not that far, and we can get a cab from there."

She nodded in acknowledgment as they resumed walking. In spite of the weather, it was pleasant outside. Janet breathed in the salt air, listened to all the night sounds of the City, and admired more decorations.

I'm glad we're walking," she said. "I love this refreshing air, and I need every moment of cheeriness I can get before I have to deal with Ray."

Two blocks later, they arrived at their building. Both men waited until she'd accessed the building lobby, and then waved and watched as she headed for the security desk to let the officer know she was in the building before heading to the elevators.

"I still don't like her being up there alone with that man," Alex said.

"Me either," Tony replied. "You know we could go up there anyway and stay out of sight."

Alex thought about that. "It is tempting but –" he stared up at the imposing height of the building. "No. We'd better not. Let's go home. She'll probably be fine just like she said."

"Okay, but can I ask you something first?"

"Sure."

Tony pulled out his phone and showed Alex the photo he'd taken earlier in the day. "Who's this guy?"

Alex looked and grinned. "That guy? He's trying to recruit me."

Tony stared at Alex. "Recruit you? You looking for another job?"

Alex shrugged. "I don't know. I ran into him a while back, and we got to talking. Now he's trying to get me to quit working for Global and start working for his organization."

"Which is?"

"An advertising group. They're housed in this same building, just on a different floor. I don't even remember which one."

"So, are you gonna take it? Is it more money?"

"Same pay, but I'd have to drum up advertising clients. That's not really my thing. I think I'd rather stay where I'm at and deal with Edna."

Tony put away his phone. "Okay. That's a relief. If I didn't have you around to talk to, I don't know what I'd do."

"You could become best pals with Marcus and Peter." Alex laughed at Tony's expression. "What. You don't like them?"

"Sure, I like them, but come on, they're old."

"They're not that old." Alex patted Tony's shoulder. "You want to share a cab? On me."

Inside the building, Janet waited for an elevator car then hesitated for a moment before she climbed in. The doors closed and the elevator began its swift ascent to the twenty-first floor as anxiety rose in her just as swiftly.

# CHAPTER 5

Initially, Janet was curious about any reason why Ray would prop open the suite door. Now, after hearing the two gunshots, she wondered if he'd done that for someone else; for a secret meeting gone wrong, recalling that phone call he got earlier in the day.

Still hiding beneath her desk, she wished now the guys had come with her after all. She worried the other two men would come back or were waiting to see if someone revealed themselves. For all she knew, they were lurking outside the main entrance, in spite of the emergency vehicles below.

She kept her task chair pulled up close for concealment and continued to listen. The suite was deathly still and dark. Janet checked her phone for the time. It was nearly eight-thirty. She tucked it back into her bag and continued to wait, counting to one hundred again. She stopped counting and looked toward the exterior windows on the opposite wall. Even though her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness and the dim but visible light from the windows, all she could see were the shapes of other desks and furniture. She absently gazed at one window in an area where Ray's office jutted out into the room. In that corner stood a potted tree. She stared at it thinking to herself how different it and everything else looked in the dark.

It was still very quiet. She decided to take a chance and use her phone to make a call but kept it deep in her bag to conceal the glow from the screen. She made sure it was set to mute, sent a text to Alex to tell him something terrible happened at Global and to come right away. He immediately replied and asked if she was okay. She responded yes, but to hurry and call the police.

Janet's heart continued to pound as she waited and then wondered about the sirens she had heard earlier. They must not have been a result of what had happened in the suite. She closed her eyes for a moment and hoped Alex would come soon and with the police. She opened her eyes and peered out from her hiding place at the office interior again. She still wanted to look around but was afraid to do so. From beneath her desk, she stared at the exterior windows again then texted Alex, saying she was scared. He acknowledged and said he'd see her soon and that help was on the way.

Still huddled under her desk, Janet focused on the potted tree in its shadowy corner again. For some reason, it seemed to calm her, even though it looked a little different than it did a few minutes ago. She quietly shook her head and closed her eyes realizing fear was driving her into a state of panic. She remained where she was, completely unaware of a dark form that emerged from Ray's office and quietly made its way to the conference room.

Janet kept her eyes closed, rubbed her forehead, and wished the police would hurry. She just wanted to go home.

It wasn't much longer when she could hear sirens at the street level again hoping this time it was the police coming to her aid. That alone provided a measure of comfort. Shortly after that, a pale light extended across the floor near where she sat. She froze, realizing the elevator door across from Global's entrance had just opened and wondered if it was Alex. Then she saw more lights moving around - beams of light from strong flashlights.

A voice called out from the corridor outside the door. "Police! Anyone in there? Show yourself!"

Janet pushed her task chair away and cautiously crawled out from under her desk. She slowly stood up and blinked the bright lights. A voice commanded her to stop where she was and put her hands up.

She did, still blinking in the light, and started to say something but was cut off.

"Stay where you are!" the officer ordered then waited for building security to unlock the glass door.

She wasn't so terrified any longer but still upset and worried about her boss. Even so, Janet did exactly as she was told. She kept her hands in the air and remained quiet.

"Anyone else in here with you?" the officer asked, now cautiously approaching her.

"I-I don't know."

"Somebody, turn on the lights!" the officer ordered. They came on, and Janet blinked again but remained where she was, hands still in the air.

"I'm Officer Cade, San Francisco PD. Who are you?" he asked.

"Janet Feldman. I work here f-for Mr. Martindale. Ray Martindale."

"This late at night?"

"Not very often, but sometimes, yes."

"You want to tell us what's going on?"

She looked toward the conference room. "I think someone was shot in there. I think it might be my boss." She pointed with one hand then quickly put it back up.

"You can put your hands down but stay where you are." Another officer joined her, and they both waited and watched as Officer Cade and two others drew their weapons and slowly approached the conference room door.

Janet wanted to sit down but remained standing and watched as several other officers entered the suite, weapons drawn, and wearing protective gear. The officer standing with Janet pointed toward the conference room. Soon Officer Cade emerged from the room holstering his gun. He joined Janet.

"You say someone was shot?

"I heard the gunshots and the two men talking about it."

"How many gunshots and what two men?"

"Two shots and two men that were in here and shot him. But I only heard them talking. I didn't see them. They were angry because it sounded like Ray owed them money, and one of them wanted to look for it, but the other one wanted to get out before they got caught."

"Money."

"Yes, but I don't know anything about any money. So, wherever it was supposed to be or how much, I don't know anything about it."

"And why were you here again?"

She struggled with his questions and rubbed her forehead. "I shouldn't have come back. I didn't want to come back, but my boss insisted I return to help him with a proposal we were working on."

"Proposal."

"Yes. It's part of what Global does. We contract with companies to perform investigations and provide security. We were working on a proposal for a new client."

The officer jotted down notes and nodded slightly, then looked around. "This late at night. How long have you been here tonight?"

"I just came back not too long ago. I had dinner with friends first. I promised Mr. Martindale I'd be back by eight to help finish the proposal. It needs to go out first thing in the morning. He's already scheduled a courier to pick it up." Janet nervously glanced toward the conference room again.

"How many people work here?" Officer Cade asked.

Janet shrugged. "I don't know exactly. Maybe fifty or so." She frowned. "Is Ray okay?"

"I wouldn't know," he said.

"Well, how does he look?"

"Can't tell you that either."

"Why not?"

"Because there's no one in there. No dead body and no blood that I can see."

Janet was stunned. "What do you mean no dead body. No blood. The men I overheard said he was bleeding out and dying."

"You're welcome to go look if you want, but I didn't see anything." He jerked his head in the direction of the conference room.

Janet headed for conference room but stopped at the door and gazed in at the nicely appointed room for a moment before continuing inside. She visually examined the table that nearly filled the room, and the chairs pushed up to it. The walls were wood-paneled with only four framed photos on the back wall, which were arranged around a metallic emblem sporting the company logo.

"I don't understand," she said. "They said –" She stopped talking but looked at the officer, her eyes fixed on him. "I know what I heard. Two gunshots, two men, arguing, and talking about Ray and saying he was bleeding. One of them said he was probably going to die. Then they argued about some money and finally hurried to leave because they didn't want to get caught."

"How did they get out?"

"The front door where you came in." She let out a very heavy sigh.

She frowned and stared out the conference room door.

The officer watched her. "You remember something else?"

She slowly nodded. "Yes. The door was propped open when I got here at eight. But Ray didn't need to do that for me. My access card opens the door even after hours."

"So, you're saying he was expecting someone?"

Janet stared at the officer but thought back to earlier in the day. "Maybe. But those two guys are the ones who propped it open. I heard them say so, in case they needed to get back in."

He made some notes in a small notebook. "Anything else?"

"Just that Ray had a phone call this afternoon while I was in his office. Two calls, actually. The first one was short, and he told the caller he'd get back to them later. But the second call –" She paused.

"What about the second call?"

"He was different. He said something about having a package ready." Her voice trailed off.

"What is it?"

"Something else those two men said just before they left."

"Which was?"

"They came to get money Ray owed them and –" she furrowed her brow. "And something about a package. Some merchandise."

"Merchandise. What kind of merchandise?" he asked.

"I don't know, but they seemed upset that they wouldn't have everything they came for and then one of them said –" She stopped and became visibly agitated.

"What? What did he say?"

"That they could always find a woman down on the streets." She looked up, her eyes pooling then started shaking her head. "No, it couldn't be."

"Couldn't be what?"

She kept shaking her head. "He wouldn't do that."

"He wouldn't do what? He who?" Office Cade watched her. "Look. If you think you know something, you need to tell me."

"I think –" She started to tremble. "I think –" She sat down. "I think I was supposed to be the package; that I was the merchandise."

More people showed up, including an ambulance crew with a gurney. Officer Cade told them to wait but motioned the others to come in. Janet sat at her desk, holding her head in her hands, still distraught at her apparent revelation.

"Find whatever you can," the officer said. "Start with the conference room." He walked back to Janet. "A couple of detectives are on the way up. You can talk to them. Can we get you anything?"

She shook her head. The reality of what she just said sunk in deeply." She finally straightened up to watch the activity, wiping at her wet face. "Did anyone else come up here with you?" she asked. "Alex Paulsen? Is he here?" She anxiously looked around. "He said he'd come."

"No one else can come up here right now. It's a crime scene and we can't' have a lot of unnecessary people roaming around in here contaminating potential evidence."

"Can I text him, at least and let him know I'm okay?"

"Go ahead."

Janet retrieved her phone and sent a quick text while the other officer watched over her shoulder. Alex quickly responded by saying he was downstairs, but they wouldn't let him come up. She acknowledged his response then put her phone away and leaned back in her chair, completely distraught.

Eventually, two men arrived wearing suits and ties. They flashed badges to the officer stationed at the front entrance then proceeded on into the office suite. Janet guessed they were the detectives assigned to the case.

"Cade." One detective spoke to the officer who had questioned her. "What's going on?" The three men huddled, talking quietly.

Officer Cade walked them to Janet's desk. "These are Detectives Carson and Talmont. They'd like to talk to you." He walked away, and the detectives pulled up chairs to sit with Janet.

Detective Carson took the lead. He introduced himself and his partner again. "I'm Brian Carson, and this is Steve Talmont," he said and smiled. "We'd like you to tell us what you told Officer Cade about what happened here tonight."

Janet did her best to recall all the same details she'd already shared. Both detectives watched her closely and nodded here and there, taking notes. Finally, Detective Talmont asked that she show them the conference room where the alleged crime took place.

They followed as she led them to the room. She hesitated at the door again before stepping inside to look around, then stared at the floor.

"You see something?"

"It's what I don't see."

"What do you mean?"

"A large piece of carpet. It's supposed to be right here at this end of the table. It has the company logo on it that looks similar to that." She pointed to the metallic ornament mounted on the opposite wall. "It lay on top of the other carpeting right here, but it's gone."

The officer waved the forensics team over. "Check for traces of anything around here, but especially this area of the carpeting," he said motioning with one hand. He stared at the large photographs surrounding the metal company logo. Other than the San Francisco office building, he didn't recognize the other three photographs, also of office buildings.

"What are those?" he asked and pointed.

"Oh well this building, and then the headquarters office building in Virginia, the London office building, and the one in Hong Kong. I think there may be a couple more, but I don't know for sure. I'm still pretty new here."

He nodded. "I see." He and his partner escorted Janet back to her desk, and all three sat down again. "What else can you tell us?" Carson asked.

"I think I told you everything I saw and heard."

"What about earlier in the day. How did your boss seem?"

"His normal self. He's –" She stopped. "Wait."

"What?"

"There is something else." She got up and walked to Ray's office door.

The detectives watched then ordered her to stop.

"But –" She started to reach for the door handle.

"Don't touch that!" Detective Carson said.

Janet jerked her hand away.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Checking to see if this door is locked."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because –" she exhaled loudly. "Because one of the men said he'd tried the door when they got here and told his partner it was locked."

The officer put on gloves and approached the door, then tried the knob. "It's locked," he said.

Both officers watched her.

Detective Carson spoke up. "Tell us why this door is so important."

"It's Ray's office."

The detective looked around and called out, "Anyone go inside here yet?"

No one had.

"You have a key?" he asked Janet.

"No. No one did. Just him."

Carson called to an officer. "We need to get in here," he said. "Break it down."

The officer came over. He examined the door and gave Carson a wary look. "It's going to take more than my foot to budge that door."

"Get a battering ram then. We need to see inside."

"How about a key?" another officer asked as he joined them, holding one up.

"Let me see that." Carson took the key and tried it in the lock. "Well, I'll be damned." He opened the door.

Janet was surprised. "Where did you find that?" she asked the officer.

"Taped under the receptionist's desk."

"Hazel's desk?"

"Who's Hazel?" Talmont asked.

"The receptionist," Janet replied.

Carson entered Ray's office and began poking around. He walked behind Ray's desk looked at the obvious items then moved out of the way so forensics staff could get in and start processing the room.

Janet watched but continued to recount what she had heard earlier. "Those other men kept arguing about money, and one of them was sure it was in Ray's office." She looked at Carson. He noticed a painting hanging on the wall directly behind Ray's desk. "Jeffries, check that painting, will you?" he asked. The forensics officer checked all around the painting first for any hidden wires, then carefully gave it a tug. It swung outward.

"Well, I'll be damned," Carson muttered again.

Janet and the others stared at a wall safe, the door slightly ajar.

Jefferies began taking more photos then one by one, removed each item, photographing them individually. He also photographed the empty safe before moving away so the detectives could take a look.

Talmont examined the empty safe while Carson looked at the items spread out on the desk. "Tell me about this receptionist."

Janet kept staring at the wall safe in amazement. "I never knew about that safe," she said.

He motioned for Janet to come closer. "Don't touch any of this stuff," Talmont said, "but does anything look familiar?"

Janet stared at the items. There was a small stack of opened envelopes with their contents bundled in a rubber band, a check ledger, and she saw five keys on a ring, a coffee mug, and a couple of pens. She thought those three items were odd to keep locked up. She started to reach for a pen.

"Don't touch that!" Carson grabbed her hand.

"It just a pen."

"Maybe. Maybe not. They'll dust everything for fingerprints and bag them."

"Fingerprints on the pens?"

"You never know who may have handled those or anything in here besides Martindale," he said. "Could give us a clue. We'll see." He glanced at her. "About that receptionist. What's her name again?"

"Hazel. Hazel Simpson."

"You know how long she's been working here?"

"I think maybe a year? You'd have to ask personnel."

"You know why she would have a key to your boss' office?"

"No. I mean, I'm Ray's executive assistant, but I don't have a key."

He nodded while he made a notation. "I see." He looked around, then back at Janet. "Is there anything else you can think of?"

"N-No. Not right now."

"If you do think of something, even if it seems unimportant, please tell us. You never know what might help. You can go back to your desk and wait."

Janet was exhausted. It had been over three hours since she first arrived back at the office. During that time police personnel continued to collect evidence and occasionally ask her another question or two.

She folded her arms on the desk to rest her head and closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep.

Detective Talmont sat down across from her and cleared his throat to get her attention. Groggily she looked up expecting another question.

"We're going to send you home," he said, "but you need to be back here by eight in the morning."

She wearily straightened up. "Okay. Thank you. I can do that."

"A squad car will take you home and bring you back in a few hours."

"A squad car? I can get myself back here by eight."

"Perhaps, but we are concerned for your safety, especially after hearing what you had to say about those two men. If they did intend to take you with them, we need to make sure you arrive home and back here safe and on time."

She nodded wearily. "Okay."

"We don't want to leave any loose ends to unravel any further. Officers will be waiting to bring you back."

Janet was too tired to argue. She collected her things and followed a uniformed officer to the elevator.

Talmont joined her briefly and handed her a couple of business cards. Hang on to these. One is mine, and the other is Detective Carson's. You can call either one of us, day or night, if you think of anything else or need something."

Janet nodded and thanked him, then stepped into the waiting elevation with her escort. A short while later she was in the back seat of a police car. Two officers sat in front. They quietly chatted and occasionally paused to listen to their police radio. Janet felt like a criminal. There was a cage between her and the front seat, and no interior door handles in the back. In fact, the seat was made of a molded product and hard. She guessed that was to ensure no one shoved something down behind it.

They eventually pulled up to her apartment building, and both stepped out. One opened the back door and waited for her, then both followed her up to her apartment. One officer entered first to check it out before they let her go in.

"All clear. Have a good night, or what's left of it that is." He smiled. "We know you're tired. We'll be waiting down in our car until it's time to take you back. Stay inside until we knock. Check to make sure it's us before you open the door." He also handed her a business card. "If you need anything in the meantime, call this number. We'll be parked outside."

"Officer Madison," she said, reading the card.

"Yes. That's my cell number. Don't hesitate to use it if you need to. Try to get some sleep."

"Thanks," she said, then stopped them. "You're staying? Parked downstairs?"

"Yes. This is our shift. See you in a few hours."

They waited while she closed and locked her door then left. She watched through the peephole until they were out of sight then tossed her things on the sofa and let out a heavy sigh.

"A few hours," she said, noting the time then headed for bed. It took a while, but she finally drifted off to sleep soon consumed with myriad dreams of too many disconnected things.

# CHAPTER 6

Police officers were still on scene at the downtown San Francisco that morning. Passersby stopped to watch as a steady stream of employees, from all building businesses arrived at the high-rise. Everyone had to wait at one of three entrances. Two lines of people were for the staff of businesses other than Global. Building security officers busily checked identification badges against company rosters before allowing anyone inside and under the watchful eye of uniformed San Francisco police officers.

The third entrance was just for Global staff. They, too, had to pass through a checkpoint but were directed to a separate place in the spacious lobby to wait.

Janet sat quietly in the back of the squad car. She didn't want to get out, embarrassed to be seen arriving in a police car, but one of the officers opened the door and waited. She hesitated and scanned the crowd looking for familiar faces and spotted Alex standing with others from Global in the shortest line. With reluctance, she stepped out, and for a very brief moment, few people paid attention to her until some of the Global staff noticed. One-by-one they turned to stare, point, and whisper.

Alex, in particular, looked concerned seeing her with two police officers but before she could make any type of gesture to reassure him, she was led directly inside, bypassing the line. Once inside, her escort walked her across the spacious lobby, past a small group of Global staff clustered to one side, and to a small office.

Detective Carson was waiting for her and greeted her warmly as she entered the room before he closed the door. Janet's co-workers quietly watched her arrival with great interest. Quiet whispering ensued, as they stared at the closed door to Detective Carson's makeshift office. All wondered what was happening and why Janet arrived in the company of police officers. With nothing more to see, they resumed watching small groups of employees from other businesses follow security escorts to the elevator banks and whispered among themselves as to the reason for all the commotion.

Alex finally made it through the checkpoint and noticed Hazel talking with a handful of their assembled staff. He quickly joined them. "What's going on?" he asked, pretending he didn't know anything. "And where's Janet? I thought I saw her come in a moment ago."

Hazel shook her head. "Something about a murder," she said. "There was something on the news this morning, but I didn't pay much attention to it. Then I got here, and this is what I found just like the rest of you. As for Janet, well, the police took her into that small office over there." She pointed. "I guess she must be in some kind of trouble. But like I said, all I know is what I overheard someone say a while ago; something about a murder in the building last night. Other than that, no one is saying anything other than we have to stand over here while all those other people gawk at us. Plus, we all have to be questioned by the police."

"Questioned?" Alex asked. "Why us? Where was the murder?" Again, he pretended ignorance.

"Judging by the fact that we are all over here and everyone else in the building is over there and going to their offices, I'd say it was on our floor and probably in our office."

"Our floor," he repeated. "Our office." He looked at the closed door behind which sat Janet and worried about her. When he arrived at the building hours earlier, after getting Janet's text message, an officer took his statement and contact information but sent him home. He tried to text her, but she never responded. Now he wondered if she saw something; if she was a witness to something.

"Alex?" Hazel asked. "Are you listening to me?"

He shifted his gaze. "Yes – yeah, sure."

"Well, all I can say is the police are everywhere, and we are all waiting to be questioned." She tapped her foot nervously. "This is all very upsetting. I wish I'd stayed home." She noticed a few other staff heading their way and waved them over. Tony was among them.

"It's like a three-ringed circus out there," he said as soon as he met up with Alex. "What's going on and why do we have to wait over here?"

"We're all wondering the same thing," Alex said then nudged Tony off to one side. As quietly as possible, he filled Tony in about Janet's desperate text. Now both were especially concerned for her but could only continue to watch small groups of other building employees dutifully follow a security officer to the elevators.

"They're all staring at us," Tony said.

"I know," Alex replied. "And according to Hazel, everyone thinks there was a murder in the building last night and probably on our floor."

Tony gave him a grave look. "In our suite, you mean," Tony said quietly. "We're the only ones they're detaining." He looked around. "And where's Janet?"

"In that small office over there," Alex nodded his head. "Where that officer is standing."

"You don't think –" Tony didn't finish his thought.

"I don't know what to think, but I'm wondering the same thing. Not that she did anything wrong, but that she might have seen something. In the meantime, I guess they're going to question all of us."

Someone cleared their throat directly behind them. "What are you boys talking about so quietly?" Startled, they both turned to face their supervisor, Edna.

Tony recovered first. "Well, we were just discussing, or rather wondering what's going on. Do you know?" He hoped it would diffuse her otherwise suspicious countenance.

She squared her shoulders and fought a slight grin. "You'll find out soon enough. "Everyone at Global will be questioned by the police, whether they showed up for work today or not."

In spite of the anxiety, everyone else was feeling, Edna's demeanor was always the same – austere and abrupt.

She leveled a steady gaze on the both of them, her jaw tight. In a nearly threatening tone, she pronounced a warning. "If someone doesn't show up today, for whatever reason, or tries to sneak out of here, the police will hunt them down and bring them in to interrogate."

"Interrogate," Tony repeated.

"That's right," Edna said. "Interrogate. That's what they do in criminal investigations, _interrogate_ people." Her gaze was cold.

"But why us?" Alex asked. "We didn't do anything."

"We shall see." Edna gave them both a stony look then walked away.

"She's her usual cheerful self," Tony said.

Alex agreed. "Yeah, and obviously doesn't know any more about what's going on than the rest of us."

Tony nodded. "True but still, she sounded so – threatening and accusatory."

"I wouldn't worry," Alex said. "You know her. She's always like that. Besides, you and I were on our way home by the time anything happened up there. I'm just worried about Janet. She's the one who had to come back late last night. We should have gone up with her."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, and now we'll worry about her until we know what's going on." Tony looked around. "Wow. I never realized how many people worked in this building."

"I know. Me either," Alex said.

Tony refocused on the office door guarded by a uniformed policeman. "So, they have Janet in there."

"Yes. She arrived in a police car while I was still in line outside. She didn't look good."

Tony frowned. "What did _she_ do besides go back to the office just like Ray told her to do?" He stared at the guarded door. "Did someone say there was a murder?"

Alex nudged Tony, and they stepped a little farther away from the Global staff. He glanced around and lowered his voice. "That's what I'm worried about. You and I both know she came back late last night to work on a project with Ray." He gave Tony a penetrating look.

"Right. So, you think she might have heard or seen something?" Tony said.

"That's my guess." Alex looked up. "Here comes a policeman."

The officer approached the group and spoke to a few other Global staff. One of them pointed toward Alex and Tony. The officer joined them. "Alex Paulsen? Tony Cho?" he asked.

"Yes," they replied in unison.

"Detective Carson would like to talk to both of you."

"Us?" Tony asked, eyebrows arched in surprise.

"That's right. Come with me." The officer led them to a second small office next to the one Janet was in. Two folding chairs sat outside the closed door. "Wait here," the officer said and gestured to the chairs.

They sat down and looked at each other with concern.

"Now, what did _we_ do?" Tony asked quietly.

"Nothing, but we may be asked to corroborate Janet's story about being here late last night."

"Yeah, okay. That makes sense." Tony said, then stiffened. "Yeah. She did come back, and we know it, and we're gonna have to tell the police. That might mean she's a suspect."

Before Alex could respond, the door to the office opened, and a man stepped out. He was dressed in casual gray slacks, a button-down white shirt and brown tie loosely synced up and hanging slightly askew. A badge hung on his belt. He stood in front of them. "I'm detective Carson. Alex? Tony?"

They both nodded.

"Who wants to go first?"

"Uhh –" Alex looked at Tony. "I-I guess I will."

The detective waited for Alex to step into the office then followed and closed the door. The uniformed officer standing at the other office door looked at Tony without smiling. Tony glanced away, suddenly feeling guilty for something he wasn't sure he'd done yet. To distract himself, he watched the steady stream of other building employees continue to enter the lobby slowly. Most looked around nervously but methodically marched to the elevators as directed.

Ten minutes later, it was his turn. Alex stepped out of the office and gestured to Tony, who went in. The door closed, and Alex sat down to wait for his friend then watched another plainclothes officer enter the office where Janet was waiting.

Inside, Janet nervously waited for Detective Talmont to sit down. He began to read from an open file folder on the desk then looked up. "How are you doing this morning, Janet?"

"I-I'm fine, I guess." In truth, her hands were clammy, and she was fidgety. She changed her response. "Well, actually no, I'm not _fine_ , but I am okay, I guess."

"Would you like some coffee or water?"

She shook her head.

"Get any sleep?"

She shook her head again but replied, "Not much. Too many troubling dreams."

He offered a gentle smile. "I'm sorry about all of this, but I may have some good news if you can call it that."

She looked hopeful.

"After you were taken home last night, the forensic team found traces of blood spatter on the carpet under and around the conference table where you said another piece of carpet used to lay. They could see the outline of something having been there."

"Oh," was all she could say.

"So, the good news is you were telling the truth about the carpet area and about someone getting hurt, although we've not found a bullet or gun. Did you did say you heard two gunshots?"

She nodded.

"Okay. Well once the DNA results come back from the lab, we'll have a better idea who lost the blood. In the meantime, I'd like to go over your statement again if you don't mind. You may remember something else, now that the initial shock has worn off. You okay with that?"

She nodded again.

For the next several minutes, Detective Talmont read aloud the statement Janet had given to him much earlier that morning. She quietly listened and nodded now and then until he finished.

"Is there anything else you'd like to add to this, even if it seems insignificant?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so – a-at least not yet." She frowned and looked away. "What _is_ bothering me is the possibility that someone else may have been in the office at the same time I was – someone I didn't see or hear, but who may have seen me and maybe knows who I am."

"What makes you think someone else was there? Did you hear anyone come in or leave the office suite?"

"No, but I would have."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because the office was in a lock-down mode. You know. The door automatically locks after six o'clock at night, which means anyone coming in needs an access card, like the one I showed you."

"Okay."

"And if anyone had walked out the front door, I would have heard the click."

"The click."

"Yes. There is a click when the door closes. I think it's a magnetic lock or something. Anyway, it's noticeable, especially when it's quiet. No other noises, you know?"

"Go on," Talmont said, now keenly interested.

She paused before responding. "Okay, as I already explained, I heard Ray talking to someone. At first, I thought he might have been on a phone call. But then I heard two other men arguing with him before the gunshots. When they came out of the conference room, they wanted to get into Ray's office to look for some money. And they argued about it. And the one guy said the door was locked. No one unlocked Ray's office door until that officer found a key taped under Hazel's desk." She stopped. "Have you talked to Hazel about the key?"

Talmont nodded. "Yes. She said Martindale insisted that she keep it taped under her desk."

"You believe her?"

"At the moment, yes. Do you have concerns?"

"I don't know other than I still think it's odd that as his executive assistant he didn't give me the key for safekeeping." She let out a sigh. "Well, anyway, if Ray's private office door was locked and those two men couldn't get in, who did? Who opened the safe?"

"We wondered about that. Perhaps Martindale opened it but was interrupted when those two men showed up. He could have left the safe open but locked his office before meeting them."

She stared out the window at the street, and all the people milling around and started to shake her head. "I don't think so," she finally said. "Ray was very careful about anything in his office. And even though I didn't know about the safe, it would be out of character for him leave a secret safe open. Don't you think? I mean he was super cautious and didn't trust anyone. Besides, you'd think those two men would have searched him, right? For his keys."

"We thought of that, but what are you thinking?"

She looked at him. "I don't know. You asked if I heard or saw anyone else in the office. I don't have a good answer other than it did cross my mind that maybe someone else was in there. Someone else who might have been hiding. Someone who –" She hesitated. "Well, someone who might have seen me, or at least heard me come in."

"A friend of your boss, maybe?"

Janet furrowed her brow, trying to think. "I don't know. I didn't think he had many friends, just business associates, but if someone else was there, why? And why hide? Maybe a break-in attempt of some kind?"

Talmont studied her for a moment, his mind working on an alternative scenario. "Okay, let's assume someone else was in there. Maybe your boss wanted someone around to act as back up in case something went wrong, especially if he was expecting those two men."

"But something did go wrong. So, if someone was there, why not help him?"

"Maybe they did; after the other two left. No point in provoking another gunfight, you know? He waits, they leave, then he comes out of hiding and goes to see what happened to your boss."

Janet frowned. "But I was there the whole time until the police showed up. Sure, I was hiding under my desk, but I think I might have heard someone, at least."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Unless whoever he might have been was already familiar with the office layout, knew where to walk, so they didn't bump into anything or shuffle their feet." Talmont waited for a response.

"Perhaps, but in order to get out of the office suite, they would have had to use the entry door. I would have heard the door click. Remember? I'm pretty sure I would have heard the click because I heard it when the other two men left."

"Right." He settled back and let out a tired sigh then noticed her expression. "Is there something else?

"If someone else was there, while I was there, they would have seen me."

"And you're worried they might think you saw them and could be a witness? That you might be able to identify them?"

"Yes, although I honestly, I don't know what I witnessed, if anything. I cannot remember anything other than what I've already told you."

"You may not have seen anything, but you heard voices and gunshots."

Her eyes fixed on him. "So, I _am_ a witness. That's what you're saying, right?"

"Yes, and at the moment, you are the only witness we have, even if only because of what you heard. And I suspect you're worried someone may come looking for you."

She nodded. "Yes."

"We agree that could be a possibility."

Janet grew quiet for a moment. "How did Ray get out of the office before all of you showed up?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Talmont said. He examined a couple of pages in the file. "Is there another way in and out of the office suite?"

"Not that I know of. But maybe someone else knows. Someone who's worked here longer than me. Oh, and did you find the missing piece of carpet?"

"Not yet."

Janet stared out the window at the gloomy day, clearly worried.

"What is it?" Talmont asked.

"I was just thinking how odd it was that Ray stressed that I was to get back expressly by eight o'clock. He told me that at least twice before I went to dinner. Eight o'clock. So, I got there about five minutes before eight to avoid getting yelled at. Those two men were already there. I wonder if that's because of that second phone call Ray got yesterday afternoon.

"Yes. That second phone call. Wait here." He shuffled through the file and pulled out a sheet of paper then studied it. "I think I know why he may have wanted you to show up at a specific time," he said. "Maybe it was to make sure security wouldn't find that door propped open. It violates a tenant policy. All companies must sign an agreement that ensures the security of each office suite. He must have been keeping track of security's schedule; you know, logging the time and frequency of each visit to that floor. Security would have already made their rounds of this floor at seven forty-five."

"Okay," Janet said. "Well he might have propped it open for the two men, but would have to be right after security checked everything, right? –" She paused.

"You're right. Which means they had only gotten there a few minutes before you did."

"Yes, but they were the ones who propped it open before I got there. Not Ray."

Her face clouded, and she began to tremble. "That second call. He talked about having some merchandise ready to be picked up." She looked at Talmont with a penetrating gaze. "The two men also talked about a package they were supposed to get from Ray. When things didn't go as planned, one of the men said they could find a woman on the street instead." Her breathing became rapid. "They said they'd need to find another woman because they couldn't go back empty-handed!"

Talmont was on his feet and at her side. "Empty-handed?"

She started nodding her head vigorously. "Yes. That's exactly what was going to happen. That's why they were there! To collect payment and take _me!_ " She clutched her chest. "Why would he do that? Why would Ray do that!" Her voice was loud, and within seconds Detective Carson rushed in.

"What's going on? What's wrong?"

Talmont explained.

Carson sat on the edge of the desk. "We're going to take care of you, Janet. I promise. We'll protect you." He glanced up at Talmont. "Bring those two young men in here and that police officer."

Talmont was back in short order with all three men.

"I want you boys to stay in here with her for a few minutes," Carson said. "Officer Kline will stay with you. "See if you can help her calm down a little."

"You got it," Alex said. He and Tony pulled up two chairs and sat down as Carson and Talmont left the room. Officer Kline stood to one side of the doorway.

Carson and Talmont stepped into the adjacent office to talk.

"What brought that on?" Carson asked.

"We were going over more of the details. She's a smart young woman and started putting pieces together. Some of it she shared with us the first time we talked to her. She's remembering more now, but she's convinced her boss was going to turn her over to those two men she heard."

"You believe her?" Carson asked.

Talmont nodded. "I do."

"Okay, then we need to get her to a safe house as soon as possible," Carson said. "Make the necessary arrangements. We need to move her now, and we need a plan."

Ten minutes later, both men returned to the adjacent room. Alex and Tony were talking quietly to her. They looked up when the Detectives entered the room.

"I have another question, Janet," Carson said. "Who else knew you were coming back to the office late last night?"

"Alex and Tony knew. They didn't want me to come back."

Both nodded in agreement.

"And – Faye knew."

"Faye?"

"The custodian. She cleans our office suite every night. I told her Ray insisted I come back and she told me to be careful. I suppose someone may have overheard the two of us talking. Plus, Ray is loud. Just about anyone could have heard him tell me to be back here by eight."

"Okay." He looked at Alex and Tony. "Why don't you both wait outside for a few minutes."

They hesitated and looked at Janet.

"She'll be fine. We just want to keep her isolated for now. It's just a precaution."

"Okay," Alex said, then looked at Janet with concern. "We're both here for you. You know that, right?"

"Yes, and thanks, guys," she said. "I'll see you later – hopefully."

Both detectives waited for them to leave. Talmont started to close the door but not before Carson said something just loud enough for Alex and Tony to hear.

"Janet, would you like to go home?" Detective Carson asked, then Talmont the door closed.

Outside, Alex stopped and stared at the now-closed door. "Go home?" Alex asked. "They're going to take her home? One minute they want to keep her isolated, and now they want to send her home? That doesn't make sense."

"Well it does a little," Tony said. "She'd still be isolated from everything going on around here."

Alex was still concerned. "Maybe. But I don't like that idea. Let's stick around and see what they do with her."

"Sounds good to me."

They strolled to a sitting area tucked in among lush vegetation and flowers. Taking seats where they could keep an eye on the closed office door, they attempted to get comfortable and waited. A few other Global staff continued to mill around the lobby or found places to sit and watch. Most, though, had been cleared and sent home for the day.

About twenty minutes later, someone from housekeeping showed up with a cart. She tapped on the door.

"You needed me?" she asked.

Talmont stood to one side. "Yes. I'm sorry, but I spilled some coffee on the floor."

She nodded. "I'll take care of it." She entered the office, and the door closed. About five minutes later, she was back out with her cart.

"Thanks, again," Talmont said, holding the door.

The woman walked along wiping down surfaces and checking trash cans before heading for the elevator banks. She stopped once to chat with another housekeeper then moved on.

Alex kept watching until he couldn't see her any longer.

Tony, though, kept watching the office. Talmont was talking to Carson. "I'll arrange for a car to pick her up, but where at?"

"Let's use the building's garage," Carson said. "There are too many people out front, and it's crawling with media. I want to shield her from as much of that as possible right now."

"Okay," Talmont said. "I'll have a squad car waiting in the parking garage.

"Good. Oh, and see if you can scrounge up some different clothes for her and maybe a hat or a scarf."

"Will do."

Twenty minutes later, Talmont was back with a bag. He handed it through the door to Detective Carson. Moments later, Carson stepped out of the office but hung around, watching the lobby.

Alex and Tony watched with great interest as both detectives conversed quietly. A short while later, the door opened. Carson waved Janet out and nodded in approval at her disguise.

From there, they walked her to the elevators.

Alex was on his feet. "Come on!"

"Where are we going?"

"To the parking garage exit."

They hustled out of the lobby and around the side of the building. Near the garage exit they, stood up against the building just out of sight to watch for a patrol car. Minutes later, one emerged. Both men strained to see if anyone was in the back seat. They could see someone wearing a scarf.

"Now what?" Tony asked.

"We hope she gets home safely," Alex said. He looked around. "I'm tired. This has been a stressful day. I think I just want to go home now. What are you going to do?"

Tony checked his watch. "Heck, I might as well do some Christmas shopping while I'm downtown. I'll see you tomorrow." He walked away and disappeared into pedestrian traffic.

Alex waited a moment then returned to the front of the building. He scanned the milling crowd and finally spotted someone then wove in and out of the growing crowd to stand beside another man. The man was a few inches taller, wearing sunglasses and a dark overcoat with the collar pulled up to ward off the damp air. Neither looked at each other or said a word for several minutes.

Finally, the man lowered his sunglasses for a moment then shoved them back into place. "Keep your eyes open," he said, still watching the activity.

"What about Janet?" Alex asked, also staring straight ahead.

"She'll be taken care of. In the meantime, you know what to do."

Both waited for a few seconds then turned away, swallowed up in the crowd of onlookers but headed in opposite directions.

# CHAPTER 7

Janet paced the living room of the safe house. She was frustrated, not knowing much of what was going on with the investigation as a whole, but especially regarding the whereabouts of Ray Martindale. Her extraction from the office building happened just before lunchtime. It was quick, but she worried that Alex and Tony wouldn't know where she was and that she was okay. _But that was the point, right? To stay safe? No one is supposed to know where I am except for a very few people_. She glanced at her phone to check the time, then began to pace again.

"You're going to wear a path on that floor," Officer Emily Perez said, putting down a magazine. Although still officially on duty, she asked Janet to call her Emily – _less formal,_ she had explained.

Janet stopped pacing. "I know," she said, "but I'm anxious. I wish I knew what was going on."

"We all do," Emily said. "We just have to wait for now while the police do their work. They've collected evidence, it's being processed, and they are talking to people. Everything takes time."

Janet nodded. "I know, but I still can't help being nervous." She decided to sit and perched on one end of a sofa to reflect on her transfer from downtown to this secret location. Posing as a housekeeper was a little troubling at first. She worried that someone might figure out the detectives' ruse. But apparently, it worked and allowed her to safely leave the lobby area unnoticed while the female officer who'd come in under the pretense of being a custodian to clean up spilled coffee, became a decoy. _If anyone planned to follow you out of the building, they would follow the decoy instead_ , both detectives explained. At least that was the plan.

She looked at Emily, who had resumed reading her magazine. "Are safehouses all that safe?" she asked.

"They should be," Emily said, engrossed in the magazine. "I mean, it's not impossible, but so far we've had a pretty good track record in the City. Although it wouldn't surprise me if the detectives decide to move you again, to be on the safe side; a moving target is less likely to be caught."

Janet looked at her. "Moving target? Is that a safe thing to do?"

"Sometimes. It all depends on the situation and what they are able to conclude from some or all of the evidence." She broke away from the magazine to smile at Janet. "I know this is difficult, but we have to be patient. I'm to make regular calls to Detective Talmont." She checked her watch. "In fact, I'm scheduled to call him in about fifteen minutes. If I don't call, they'll call me or send someone out here to check on us, if necessary."

"That's fine," Janet said, "except if you don't call that means something has happened, and we could be dead by the time somebody gets here."

Emily smiled but didn't respond.

"Wouldn't we?" Janet asked, pressing Emily for an answer.

Emily paused before replying. "Anything is possible. Nothing is one hundred percent perfect, but in my experience, I've never had to deal with a compromised safehouse." She put the magazine aside and stood up. "I'm going to get a snack. Do you want something? They brought in plenty of food," she said, on her way to the kitchen. "Oh, and some clothes for you. In your bedroom."

Janet shook her head. "I'm not hungry right now."

"Then why don't you go lay down. You don't have to sleep, but you might be able to relax a little."

Janet remained where she was for a moment then decided Emily was probably right. She headed for her bedroom and closed the door, but not tight. The room was tiny, with the same hardwood flooring as the rest of the house. The drapes were slightly open at the one window. She wandered to it and gazed through the dirty windowpane. Although a scrubby shrub partially blocked the view, she could see most of the small yard, consisting mostly of dirt, and the fencing that separated it from the other neighboring backyards.

It was dreary outside and given their proximity to the Pacific Ocean a couple of blocks away. Damp air existed all year in one form or another. Either way, when the sun didn't break through the cloud cover, it was gray and dreary like now, but no fog. She'd learned, since coming to San Francisco, that its famous fog was most prevalent during summer, primarily in July and August and caused by stratus clouds created by a combination of ocean currents, air temperature, wind, and a few other conditions. She had been a little surprised about the fog having been under the impression it was around all the time.

Janet looked up at the gray sky again. An onshore breeze was blowing, she guessed, based on the behavior of a tree in the yard directly behind them. She shivered and closed the drapes then turned to look at her room. A twin bed with the head shoved up against the common wall of a neighbor's house. Two nightstands, one on either side of the bed. One with a lamp, the other with an electric clock, the display blinking. She would set it to the correct time later.

The foot of the bed allowed enough room to walk around it when entering from the tiny hallway. Alongside the inner wall just inside the door and to the left stood a short two-drawer dresser. She'd checked, and it held a few pieces of clothing. There was nothing on the walls, but there was another door in the corner next to the dresser – a closet. Inside hung a few things. She checked the sizes and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Good guess."

Janet sat on the bed, then drew up her legs and stretched out. She stared up at the ceiling and finally closed her eyes, draping an arm over them. She didn't feel very safe at the moment, in spite of all the precautions they'd taken. From the instant she was told to change into housekeeper's clothing until they showed up here in an unmarked and windowless panel van, she was very nervous about her safety. What if someone didn't take the bait? What if someone had followed them anyway?

An officer posed as a delivery driver. He dropped them off at a modest-looking house in the Outer Sunset District, and close to the Pacific Ocean, she figured, since she could smell the salt air when they got out of the van and thought she heard the sounds of the ocean not too far away. In the brief moments between leaving the van and quickly entering the house, she noticed it was smaller and distinctly different looking from the other houses on either side, but they all shared common walls. A shallow driveway in front of the house led to a single car garage. A modest size vehicle could park in front of the garage door, but that was about it. Anything larger would protrude across the sidewalk.

The small area to the left of the driveway was paved; as were several other neighboring yards. And beyond it was an ornate metal gate leading into a small, walled courtyard. The gate was locked, and Janet had to nervously wait for Officer Perez to unlock it before they could hurry into a dark and shadowy space, given the gloomy overcast. The main part of the house was directly overhead and covered the courtyard completely, adding to the darkness. There was nothing remarkable about it, other than a set of stairs that led to the main level; no plants, nothing to sit on, just more cement.

Janet shifted on the bed and let out a sigh as she tried to get comfortable then continued thinking about her temporary situation. The house was furnished, but not overly so. From the living room, there was an opening to a kitchen with a tiny window that also overlooked the back yard. She wondered if anyone could access the yard from the outside. Emily had said no but they could by way of stairs down to the garage and from there through another door to the back.

Janet finally sat up, still restless. She got up and wandered out to the living room. She could hear Emily in the kitchen and headed that way.

Emily was texting and looked up. "You okay?"

"Can't seem to settle down."

"Well, let me finish this text to Detective Talmont then maybe we can start fixing something to eat."

"You're texting him? I thought you had to call."

"Either is fine with him. I decided to text thinking you might be sleeping. I didn't want to wake you."

"That was thoughtful. Thanks."

Emily sent the message and put her phone back in its case on her belt. "Let's see what we can find to eat."

Janet stood watching then remarked, "This is the weirdest situation I've ever been in." She said, then paused. "Well, not exactly the weirdest."

"No?" Emily pulled some items from the refrigerator.

"No. I think being trapped in that cave a couple of years ago was worse. Even so, I'm still creeped out by all of this." She sat down at the small kitchen table, shoved up against one wall. "I feel like a prisoner, and you are my prison guard."

Emily organized the items on a counter then took a moment to respond. "I'm really sorry about all of this. I wish things could be different, but right now, we're both stuck. Neither one of us can leave unless one of the detectives tells us to. So, I'm practically a prisoner just like you. Let's just try to make the best of it."

Janet nodded. "I know. I understand, in a broad sense, but I still don't like it." She attempted a smile. "I'm sure I'll settle down after we've eaten. Speaking of which, what can I do to help?"

Half an hour later, they were seated in the living room eating their soup and sandwiches and watching the evening news. Both were anxious to find out if the detectives determined anything more about the incident at GHD Global. After sitting through a few teasers, the newscast began with Global as their top story.

"Hello everyone, I'm Wilson Stewart."

_"And I'm Lucy_ Sanborn _. The top story this evening is one of a_ mystery _right now._

_"That's right, Lucy,"_ Wilson said. _"And a lot more intrigue continues to develop around the reported shooting late last night at the GHD Global Security and Investigations offices in downtown San Francisco. We go live to our reporter_ at the scene _. Esther, what can you tell us?"_

Esther Orozco faced the camera at the ground floor entrance of a prominent high-rise located in the financial district.

"That's our building," Janet quickly said, nearly breathless.

_"Good evening, Wilson. As you already know, late last night shots were reported at the offices of GHD Global Securities and Investigations. We now know that the_ Vice _President of Global, Mr. Ray Martindale, may have been shot while working late. No details as to how someone would have had access to the_ suite _unless Mr. Martindale knew his assailant and had let him in. His personal assistant, Janet Feldman, reported him missing. DNA from blood found at the scene has yet to identify a victim, but Mr. Martindale is known to work late on a frequent basis. This raises speculation that he may have been the victim. Unfortunately, he has disappeared and the police have no idea if he is dead or alive. At a news conference that just ended, we were told that a massive manhunt is underway in an effort to find Martindale, dead or alive."_

Lucy quickly asked another question. _"Esther, can you tell us more about the manhunt?"_

"Only that they are checking all points of entry and departure in and out of the Bay Area both by land and sea, and they are conducting searches of the bay and beaches in case his body turns up, but that's all we know at the moment. We'll stay here and keep you updated on information as it becomes available. Back to you."

As the newscast moved onto another story, Janet grabbed the remote and changed channels. The next news station was still covering Global's activity, but they also included some film footage from earlier in the day. And apparently, there was more mystery surrounding the story than any hard facts could support at the moment. Janet didn't care about all of that because she already knew a lot of the hard facts. What she _was_ more interested in was the video clip. It showed gawking crowds milling around behind a police barricade. With growing interest, she identified a few familiar faces, but most were unknown bystanders caught up in the excitement and drama.

Turning the sound down, Janet continued to scan the images of curious onlookers, not sure who or what she was looking for. It didn't matter. With so many people standing around and waving at the cameras, her chance of finding other familiar faces was nearly impossible. However, she suddenly straightened up.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

Janet didn't answer but thought she saw Alex in the crowd standing next to another man, but it wasn't Tony. The unknown man was much taller. The camera angle changed before she could get a better look. However, as the newscaster kept talking, the video clip replayed. This time Janet remained focused as the camera slowly tracked the crowd. She stiffened then relaxed and sat back. She did see Alex, and he was okay.

"What did you see?" Emily asked.

"Oh. A co-worker. Alex. At least he's okay." The same video looped once more and this time Janet paid closer attention to the tall man standing next to Alex. In the brief few seconds he was in the frame, she could tell he was older, nicely dressed and wearing a dark overcoat. For a split second, he briefly lowered sunglasses then quickly put them back on as the camera angle panned. And then, as if on cue, both he and Alex turned away and disappeared into the crowd. Janet didn't say a word but thought how odd it seemed that they moved away at exactly the same time; it was as if they knew each other.

The network then played coverage of the brief news conference held a short time earlier. Janet immediately recognized Detective Carson standing with a few other police and City officials. The police captain stated that Global corporate headquarters provided a brief statement to the effect that they were sending someone to San Francisco to oversee the day-to-day operations and to work closely and cooperatively with law enforcement and the ongoing investigation.

"Hmm," was Janet's response as she continued to watch.

Another reporter asked a question that surprised and concerned Janet.

_"We've heard that GHD Global plans to close their San Francisco office due to internal scandal and mishandling of cases. Is that true?"_ the reporter asked.

Detective Carson stepped to the microphones. _"We cannot comment on any of that, as we do not have any information about the inner workings of Global; however, we welcome any cooperation from them as we continue our active investigation."_

"But we received a tip that the Vice President, the missing Ray Martindale, has been involved in some unexplained and illegal activity."

_"Again, we have no comment at this time. As soon as we have more information, we will call another news conference."_ The detective stepped away, and the City's Public Information Officer took over to field any additional questions and to close the news conference.

Janet stared at the television, now concerned about the remarks from the reporter. "Illegal activity?" she said aloud.

"Is that what's been going on at Global?" Emily asked.

Janet checked herself before responding, uncertain how much to reveal to Emily, then shook her head. "Honestly, I don't know what's been going on at work." To avoid any more questions, she got up, gathered their dishes, and took them to the kitchen. Silently, though, she realized that what she just heard could explain a lot. _If Ray was involved in something illegal and a deal went wrong, then_ – she paused in mid-thought. _Then that would explain some other things as well._

She walked back out to the living room. Emily remained engrossed in her magazine but glanced up and noticed the look on Janet's face. "What is it?"

"I need to talk to Detective Carson. Right away."

# CHAPTER 8

After first grabbing something to eat, Detective Carson and his partner, Detective Talmont returned to the precinct to compare notes. Talmont eventually went back to his desk, leaving Carson alone with his thoughts.

He was pensive as he mulled over the few details of this new case – definitely mysterious. _Ray Martindale. Who is this guy? Why hasn't he shown up on our radar until now? Is he into something criminal?_ Carson drummed his fingers on the desktop. It was his habit when frustrated with a case. He opened a desk drawer in search of a piece of paper. Finding a half-used note pad, he wrote Global in the middle of the sheet and drew a circle around it. From that, he drew two straight lines away from it in opposite directions. At the end of one line, he wrote R.M. for Ray Martindale. At the end of another, he wrote J.F. for Janet Feldman.

Carson sat back and stared at the piece of paper. _But what goes in between the two of them? Who are the other players? What other things, exactly?_ Talmont tapped on the door and identified himself.

"Come in," Carson said, then asked, "Anything?"

Talmont shook his head. "No. Not yet. We've finished questioning staff, even those who didn't show up for work but no one can remember seeing or hearing anything unusual or out of the ordinary while at work yesterday. No one else stayed late, either.

Carson stared at an open file and his few notes. He slapped the file shut. "Why can't we come up with anything? Someone's gotta know something. They all say Ray Martindale was a tyrant and a bully. And no one seems to trust the guy, but they can't explain why. Or won't. And why not? Why not just say, _'I don't trust the guy because'_ and then tell us?"

He leaned back in his chair, staring out the window. The day was still overcast, but the low clouds had receded enough to expose more of the surrounding buildings. Even though it was early in their investigation, they'd hit a snag. Just who was Ray Martindale, and why schedule meetings late at night? And why insist Janet come back so late?

He started to chuckle. "Well, hell! Maybe they're all in on whatever was going on in that office, and that's why no one is talking."

Talmont grinned but said nothing.

"I believe her story," Carson said. "Janet's, that is, and if things hadn't turned out the way they did, what concerns me is we may have ended up working a completely different case."

"A different case?" Talmont asked.

"Yes. Janet said it herself. An abduction. Think about it. Why else would that man insist that his young and attractive assistant return to a downtown building so late at night and alone?"

"Because he's a jerk?"

Carson made a face. "Of course, he's a jerk, based on what little we know, but especially Janet's testimony. But given the statements of everyone we've talked to, whether or not he's a jerk, I think there's a lot more going on with that man than we know."

"I see your point," Talmont said.

"Yeah." Carson stared out the window. "Maybe nothing like that was going to happen, but what if it did happen? What if it was an attempted abduction gone wrong?"

"Hold on," Talmont said. "Now you're suggesting Martindale was involved in –"

"Go ahead and say it," Carson said. "We've seen this before, Talmont. Human trafficking. And lately, we've been getting more and more bulletins from other law enforcement agencies, not just in California, but across the country dealing with it. It's big business and getting bigger."

"Yeah, that and drugs. There's money in it," Talmont said. "Big money."

Another tap at his door interrupted their conversation. It was their forensic expert, Tim Dashell.

"Got anything for me, I hope?" Carson asked, gesturing for him to come in.

"I think so," Dashell said. "We collected all kinds of evidence, including hair. In fact, I pulled some hair from a potted tree near Martindale's office. Now it could belong to anyone, including the custodian but you never know. I'll compare it to the other samples of DNA we collected from staff."

"Okay, good," Carson said. "What about the blood spatter?"

"Already sent for DNA testing. I put a rush on it, but you know how that goes."

Carson and Talmont both nodded, all too familiar with the lengthy process of DNA testing.

"But here's something interesting about that," Dashell said. "When I sprayed chemicals on the carpet to look for possible blood, a faint spatter pattern indicated that something was definitely on top of the carpet but had been removed after the incident."

"Like the missing piece of carpet?" Carson asked.

"Exactly. I also vacuumed that area and picked up some fine sediment and fibers. I'll test all of that back at the lab as well."

"Good," Carson said. "I asked a few other employees if they remembered seeing a piece of carpet in that room. They all said yes and that it did have the company logo on it."

"So that jives with Janet's statement," Talmont said.

"Yes," Dashell replied, "but here's something else. I also collected dust and fiber samples from other areas of the conference room. It's just routine."

"Go on," Carson said.

"Some of those same fibers turned up along one side of the conference room and partway along the back wall."

"Partway."

"Yes."

"Why partway?"

"I have no idea other than it was like a trail that suddenly stopped."

Carson sat up straight. "A trail, huh?" He thought a moment. "I think I want to take another look at that conference room."

An hour later, all three men were back at Global's office suite and standing in the conference room. They stared at nothing, in particular, to begin with. Carson positioned himself at the head of the large table and eyed the back wall. "Anything unusual about that wall?" he asked Dashell.

"Other than those four photos and a metallic company logo, nothing that I'm aware of yet," Dashell replied. "Why?"

Carson walked to the opposite end of the table to inspect the wall more closely. He ran his hand across the medium-dark paneling, pausing every so often, then stopped. He tapped the wall in a couple of places then stood back.

"You find something?" Dashell asked.

"Not sure. What's behind this wall?"

"Another room, more than likely. Probably another business."

"Find out for me, will you?"

Dashell left the room, but Carson kept looking at the wall and began pressing on it, but nothing happened. Talmont watched with great interest.

Dashell soon returned. "It looks like there may be a closet or maintenance room behind this wall. There is a locked door from the outside hallway. I called security to come up and open it."

"Good."

Minutes later, both men waited outside the locked door in the corridor as a Security Officer used a master key to open it. Dashell's guess was a good one. It was a maintenance closet and relatively unremarkable except for one particular item – a rolled up piece of carpet.

A renewed flurry of activity ensued at the discovery of the carpet. Tim Dashell carefully placed it in a large clean evidence bag. Another member of his team began a careful examination of the interior of the closet. It wasn't long before he discovered a portion of the wall had been altered to accommodate entry from the adjoining conference room.

Dashell hurried back to the conference room to look for some kind of a trigger mechanism on the wall. He finally did. It was the unimposing metallic company logo innocently hanging in the middle of the symmetrically hung photographs. It wasn't until he applied some pressure to the letter 'O' in the word Global, that a wall panel quietly popped open a couple of inches, and allowed him to pull it open sufficiently to gaze into the maintenance closet.

On the closet side, Dashell's assistant grabbed a broom rack nailed to the makeshift door to pull it closed. He also found a release lever in the closet to reopen the entry access and did so.

"Nice little feature, don't you think?" Carson asked Dashell.

He nodded. "Very nice. And so convenient."

Carson pushed the panel closed again and reexamined the paneled wall. He was impressed with the wall panel design making it nearly impossible to detect the existence of the access door. Both men stood staring at the cleverly designed secret access.

"Excellent work!" Carson said. "Let me know what you discover on that carpet."

"I will. We'll also process the maintenance closet for any other evidence."

"Sounds good." Carson started to leave. "I'm heading back to the precinct to get things squared away before taking off for Monterey."

Dashell gave a wave. "Have a good Thanksgiving. Try not to think about work while you're gone."

Carson laughed. "Easier said than done. Besides, I expect you to keep me informed if anything striking or extremely relevant comes to light. Do not hesitate to call me. Understood?"

Dashell displayed a tired grin. "Understood."

Carson left, and Dashell collected his items, preparing to leave. Satisfied all was in order, he left the suite, making sure everything was locked up, including the maintenance closet in the hall. He waited at elevators and stepped aboard as a car arrived then faced the opening as the doors closed and soon was on his way to the lobby.

A short distance down the hall from the Global suite, a door opened. Faye pushed her cleaning cart into the hall and made her way to Global's suite doors. Donning gloves, she pulled her access card from a shirt pocket and entered the suite with the cart. Pushing it further into the open space and out of sight of the large glass doors, she parked it and gazed around. She had already disabled the security camera system for the suite, so her presence there would be undetected.

Although the office space was cleaned up and everything back in its place, she pulled a small camera from beneath a folded towel on her cart and began taking pictures. For the next twenty minutes, she photographed every possible area in the office, including the breakroom. She even did a slow panoramic video of the entire open space then approach the conference room door. It was locked. Selecting another key from her ring of masters, she unlocked the door and stepped inside then went from window to window in the room making sure to close the blinds on all the windows before turning on the lights.

She took more pictures but carefully looked around, especially at the floor. Slowly walking the perimeter of the room, she stopped at the back paneled wall and stared at it. Duplicating what Detective Carson had done earlier, she began to tap on it, moving back and forth listening for hollow and solid sounds. She stepped back and leaned against the table, still staring at the wall. She was particularly interested in the four photographs and the metallic logo centered between them.

Faye stepped up to the photos and examined each one. She eventually examined the metallic logo and began to press in various spots until she heard a soft click. The wall moved into the room a couple of inches. A slight grin creased her face. _Just as I suspected_.

She carefully pulled it open further and gazed into the space behind. It was filled with cleaning supplies and tools.

"Yes. The utility closet," she said. "But why the secret entrance?" She took a lot of photos and even examined the interior sufficiently to discover the secret door's mechanism.

"Why would anyone need a secret entrance to this office suite? Unless it's for something illegal." Faye carefully closed the panel.

Returning to her cart, she pushed it to the break room. From a lower shelf of the cart, she retrieved a tray covered by a towel. The tray contained various swabs and vials. She checked her watch. "You have twenty minutes, girl." She set a timer and got to work.

Carson drove back to his office, his mind attempting to pull together the evidence they'd gathered so far. Still a lot of holes, but some of it seemed to make sense or at least helped explain a few things.

Once back at the precinct, he stood at his office window and mulled over Dashell's discoveries. He was becoming more convinced that someone else very likely had been in the office suite at the same time Janet was. Whoever it was either had a direct part in what happened from the outset, or at the very least witnessed everything as well. But assuming someone had been in there at the same time, why? And why not take Janet prisoner or shoot her? Why allow her to live? And was that person responsible for removing the body? He stopped in mid-thought then whipped out his phone and made a quick call.

"Dashell," he said when Tim answered. "Do you think it's possible the victim wasn't dead but is still alive and possibly could have walked out of the suite on his own or with help from someone else? Using that secret door?"

"Perhaps," Dashell replied. "Given the small amount of blood, I was able to find on the floor, I'd say sure. But depending on what I find on that piece of carpet, I'd say it's quite possible that whoever was shot may not have been wounded as seriously as we might have thought and could have gotten out on his own or with help."

"Okay. Good. That helps. I'm thinking he had help," Carson said. "Someone helped him and removed that piece of carpet, stashing it in the closet. I'm also beginning to think both exited the suite by way of that closet."

"All very plausible," Dashell said. "As soon as I process all of this evidence, we should have a better idea who else may have been in there and the condition of both."

"Of both?" Carson asked.

"Janet reported hearing two gunshots."

"Right. Okay, keep me posted."

"I will. Now go home. Get some rest," Dashell said. "I'll let you know as soon as the lab results are in."

They hung up, but Carson continued to ponder further on their discussion. Even though Janet reported that the two men said their victim was bleeding and was going to die, maybe he just looked worse than he actually was. As more evidence is processed, more of the pieces will start to come together. I just need to be patient, he thought to himself. Patience, though, was never one of his strong points. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. In the meantime, he knew his people would keep digging, and he'd eventually get his answers. He picked up his things and took one more look around his office then left.

It was late and dark. Carson stepped out into the chilly early evening air and headed for his car. The darkness provided a stark backdrop to the festive lighting of streets and buildings. A slight drizzle had moved in, and everything was damp. Even so, bustling crowds pressed along the sidewalks, in spite of the weather. Some were just getting off work, while others were out doing some early holiday shopping. Either way, this was The City, and they were all used to the weather.

He paused a moment to take it all in then got in his car and headed for home.

# CHAPTER 9

It was Wednesday. Global staff arrived for work at the downtown high rise as usual. The glaring exceptions were Janet and Ray. It created an eerie and somber mood for everyone. Although security was visible throughout the entire building, it was even more evident within Global's offices. A uniformed police officer maintained a presence at the front entrance checking the ID of anyone entering the suite.

"Good morning, Hazel," Peter said when he showed up.

"Good morning, Mr. Bradshaw," she said. "How are you today?"

"Doing well," he said. "Remember, I told you to call me Peter."

She simply smiled.

He glanced around. "From the looks of things, I guess there's still an investigation going on," he said.

Hazel involuntarily shivered. "It seems so creepy to know someone was shot in here," she said.

"Someone? Don't you mean Ray? It's all over the news."

"Well, okay – Ray. I just hate to think about it. Makes me nervous, especially sitting up here all alone. I mean someone could just walk in here and shoot _me_!"

"There's a cop standing right there," he said, indicating the front entrance, "so I doubt anyone is going to shoot you. I'm sure we are all safe."

Hazel made a face behind his back as he walked away. Peter was the Director of Operations, who reported directly to Ray Martindale.

Alex and Tony were already at their desks, chatting quietly about the increased security and Janet's obvious absence.

"So, if Ray's gone, or dead, who do you think will take over the office?" Tony asked.

I have no idea," Alex replied, "other than we both know Edna would love to have Ray's job."

"Yeah, but then I bet Mr. Bradshaw or Mr. Cummings would too."

"True," Alex said and looked around. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."

The door to Ray's office was closed and with the mini blinds tightly shut in the adjacent window, it appeared lifeless inside. Out on the floor, a low hum of activity and conversation settled in as more staff arrived. Around nine o'clock, Edna Harper, Senior Office Manager, suddenly stepped out of her office. She gazed around with her usual stony expression. Then almost as if marching to her execution, she headed straight to Ray's office, stopped abruptly, stared at the closed door then knocked.

Alex, Tony, and everyone else in the suite watched in surprised at Edna's odd behavior then expressed even more surprise when the door opened. She stepped inside. The door closed, and the entire office became deathly still.

_"Whoa!_ Who's in there?" Tony finally asked Alex in an excited whisper.

"I have no idea. I couldn't see any lights on in there when I got here." He picked up his desk phone and dialed Hazel's extension. She answered after one ring. "Hey," he said. "Who's in Ray's office?"

"No one."

"Well, someone is. Edna just knocked on the door, and someone let her in."

"What?" Hazel was just as surprised as Alex. "I'll see what I can find out."

Alex hung up. "Hazel has no idea either, but she'll see what she can find out."

Almost without exception, everyone in the office watched Ray's office expectantly then suddenly the door opened, and a tall, handsome, and distinguished-looking man stepped out followed by Edna. He scanned the hushed office very aware that all eyes were on him. His well-styled graying hair complemented a nicely tailored dark grey suit. His presence was in stark contrast to Ray Martindale's rotund physique and nearly bald head. This man was the exact opposite and carried an air of sophistication and confidence; something Ray could never have pulled off.

Edna marched back to her office and firmly closed the door.

"She's not happy," Tony said.

Moments later, everyone received an email from her explaining there was to be a staff meeting in the conference room in fifteen minutes. _"You are all expected to be there. No exceptions!"_

"Okay," Tony said, reading the message. "I guess we're going to find out what's going on soon enough."

"Looks that way," Alex said. "Let's go pick our seats before the place fills up. I vote for the far end of the table."

They both immediately headed to the conference room. A few others had the same idea, but they all had to wait for Hazel to unlock the door first. As each stepped inside, they quietly found seats, realizing that only a couple of days ago, it had been an active crime scene.

Alex and Tony both noticed the empty place where the piece of carpet used to rest. They were also aware that the large conference table was new. Eventually, everyone had gathered in the room. Most took seats, while others stood around the perimeter. Some appeared anxious, but all were more than curious. The mood was somber as Edna, and the distinguished-looking man finally entered.

The man gazed around the room, taking a mental inventory of the staff then looked at Edna, a full two heads shorter than he was.

"Let's get started," he said.

She squared her body and in her usual stiff tone made an announcement. "This is Mr. Craig Stevens. Headquarters sent him to take control of the office in Ray's absence. He will now speak to you." She stepped back. The introduction was short and abrupt, but Craig Stevens seemed unconcerned. Rather he appeared amused but wasted no time getting things started.

"Good morning and thank you, Edna. I'm not sure I would describe being here as a move by headquarters that I take control so much as simply to be here to oversee GHD Global's Western Division operations for now. As Ms. Harper mentioned, in Ray's absence, the corporate office in Virginia thought it best to have someone step in on a _temporary_ basis." He scanned his audience.

"Just to tell you a little about myself, for the past three years I've been working out of the London office and have spent time in Asia as well as Central, and South America." He gazed around again. "My tenure with Global is just shy of seven years. Prior to that, I consulted with some Federal agencies for a period of time.

He paused a moment, satisfied he'd gotten their attention.

"I like him already," Tony whispered to Alex.

Craig continued. "I look forward to getting to know each of you and assisting where I can." He grinned. "Just to let you know, I prefer you call me Craig. Mr. Stevens feels too impersonal." He examined a piece of paper with hastily written notes on it before wrapping things up.

"I've been fully briefed on the recent incident that occurred here in this very room." He studied his audience once again then continued, "and will continue to maintain a close relationship with the Police as well as headquarters as the investigation moves forward. We will likely see some police activity in and around the office over the next few days. I expect everyone to cooperate. Are there any questions?"

Craig scanned the assembled group one more time. He knew they would need time to think about the sudden changes. Questions would come as they fully grasped the fact that something extremely serious really _had_ happened and in this very room.

A hand went up.

"Yes," Craig said, making eye contact.

"I'm Jared Thomas. I just wanted to know if it was true that it was Ray Martindale who was shot in this room and, did he die?"

Craig hesitated for a moment before replying. "It is my understanding that the police believe someone was shot in this room. Some of you may have noticed a piece of carpeting was removed. It is at the police lab for analysis. And, yes, it is presumed Mr. Martindale was shot, but I do not have any other definitive information at this time."

"Is he still alive?" Jared asked.

"I am not aware of his current status," Craig said and looked around one last time. "Any other questions?"

Everyone was silent, except for Tony, who whispered to Alex, "So, we have a new boss."

Craig looked in Tony's direction but said nothing and quickly dismissed everyone. "Come see me if you think of any other questions. I generally leave my door open. If the door is closed, I ask that you not disturb me. He left the conference room and returned to Ray's office, closing the door.

"So much for asking other questions," Alex said as he and Tony returned to their desks.

"He'll probably open his door later on," Tony said as he sat down.

"I guess."

Tony straightened a stack of papers on his desk but looked up at Alex. "I don't know about you, but I feel pretty good about this guy."

"Already?" Alex asked. "I think I'll give him more time before offering an opinion."

Craig sat in Ray's desk chair examining the large desktop covered in stacks of papers. Arriving very early that morning, he'd spent two hours reviewing and sorting through all of it organizing them in stacks depending on relevance and similar subject matter. He'd begun creating a ledger noting each set of papers and labeling them as incomplete, unknown or miscellaneous. He also realized that much of what was on the desk was incoherent or irrelevant to the organization's principal mission of security and investigations.

Craig made a few more notes then sat back and swiveled the chair enough to gaze out the expansive floor to ceiling window. The office faced south and slightly east, he guessed. When he first arrived, low clouds hung low with swirling mist encapsulating their building, and other buildings close by. Now, though, the clouds had sufficiently lifted to provide a wider view.

Though an impressive sight, he was deep in thought about his purpose in San Francisco. It was no accident he was assigned to come here. Headquarters already had concerns about Ray and the activity coming from this office, but now something was definitely out of sync. Was Ray still alive? He had no idea. No one did at the moment. All that the police and the company executives knew, for now, was the blood belonged to Ray. But as for his whereabouts, that was still a mystery. In fact, finding him was one of his primary assignments.

Craig stood up and stepped to the window. He gazed down to the street far below. His mission was to get answers. _'Do whatever it takes,'_ the Director told him.

"Whatever it takes," Craig said aloud but quietly added, "That will mean working outside of the company's internal investigative staff. _'Whatever it takes'_ assumes no one can be trusted, especially within the company."

He returned to the desk and pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

"Joe's Gym," a male voice answered.

"Assemble the team. We have a new assignment." Craig hung up and leaned back deep in thought. Too many questions, he thought then sat up and grabbed the desk phone, dialing a number. "This is Craig Stevens," he said when someone answered. "I'd like to see the personnel files of all office staff please," he asked then listened. "Then how about a brief synopsis of each one, including work history." He listened. "Yes. Tenure at Global and resumes would be useful and a photograph if possible. Thanks."

He hung up and leaned back again. Sunlight peeked through the cloud cover here and there casting soft beams of light on the cityscape and the hills across the bay. It had been years since he'd been in San Francisco. Familiar landmarks had not changed, of course, but downtown sported a few more buildings. It was the people, though, that defined the City's unique personality. The diversity of cultures was as evident as ever. He smiled and glanced at his watch then stood up then walked out of the office and closed the door. Hesitating a moment, he finally left the suite by way of the main entrance.

Tony noticed and got Alex's attention. "He's leaving."

Alex looked up then over his shoulder. "Who is?"

"The boss. He just left."

"Okay."

Tony was surprised at Alex's disinterest. "Aren't you even curious where he's going?"

"Not if it's the men's room."

Tony made a face. "Fine." He got back to his project then noticed Edna come out of her office and march down to Craig's. She stared at the closed door then turned to someone who must have told her he'd left. Not at all pleased, she marched back to her office.

Tony stopped her. "Do you need some help with something?" he asked.

Edna glared at him then narrowed her eyes as she stepped up to his desk. His stomach knotted, but he offered his best smile.

"Do you know where he went?"

"No, ma'am."

She looked at Alex. "You?"

"No. I didn't even know he'd left until Tony just said something."

"Hmm!"

"Maybe Hazel knows," Tony said.

Edna pursed her lips then marched to the front desk. She was back in less than a minute, entered her office, and firmly closed the door.

Alex called Hazel. "What's up with Edna?"

"She's looking for Craig."

"Did he leave for the day?"

"No. Just went to lunch."

"Lunch. Already? It's only ten-thirty."

"I know, but that's what he told me."

Alex hung up and looked back at Craig's closed door.

Tony was anxious. "What did she say?"

"That he went to lunch," he said and shrugged. "I guess he can eat lunch whenever he wants to. Heck, maybe he just wanted to get out of the office for a while."

Craig stepped off the elevator at the ground floor and headed out of the lobby. He had a lot on his mind, and he was restless as he strolled along Market Street toward the Ferry Building. Desk jobs were not his forte. Fieldwork was more to his liking, but here he was, pushed into what was beginning to feel like a concentric situation but what was the middle point? What tied all the pieces together? All of the circles? In one circle were Ray and the growing questions about him, any of his associates, and his business dealings. In fact, he had his own suspicions about Ray and his activity, but how did the shooting fit into it? He'd read the police report. He was fully aware of Janet Feldman's statement about what she heard and possibly saw, but who else had been there? And what about Janet and her circle of influence, if she had much of one? Who were those other two men she spoke of? Was it just a disagreement between Ray and someone else or did this really have to do with something bigger? Was it connected to Global? Problems with a competitor? Or something else entirely? He knew Ray and his volatile temper. It could simply be a situation where Ray pushed someone too far, and they decided to take matters into their own hands. Then there was mention of Ray owing someone money, but the other line of thought was that of human trafficking. If that were the case, and based on the police report and their summation, it could very well be that Ms. Feldman was indeed a potential victim. And that also meant she might still be in danger.

His cell phone rang. "Charlie," he said and listened. "Okay. Good. How soon can everyone get here? Golden Gate Park? West end? Excellent. I'll see you then."

He put his phone away and kept walking. The salt air was refreshing. Instead of dwelling on things he could not resolve at the moment, he focused on his surroundings. Massive high-rise office buildings of every design and time-period created an interesting and eclectic cityscape. Couple that with the dozens of hills within the City alone, and the sweeping vista of the San Francisco Bay from the tops of some, it was no wonder people from all over the world traveled to this fascinating and iconic city.

He spent the better part of an hour mentally revisiting places he'd known from years before and enjoyed the unusually pleasant weather, in spite of the cloud cover. Eventually, he made his way back to California Street and his building.

Stepping off the elevator on the twenty-first floor, he could see activity going on within the suite.

Hazel stopped him. "Detective Carson is waiting for you." She pointed discreetly. "He's sitting at Janet's desk."

"What about the other officers in here?"

She shrugged. "He just said he'd wait for you."

"Thanks." Craig walked over to the detective who stood up. They smiled and greeted each other with a handshake. "Let's go to my office," Craig said.

Once inside, he closed the door. "Please. Have a seat." He gestured, and Detective Carson sat down across the desk from him. "It's a pleasure to meet you. So, what can I do for you?" Craig asked.

The detective pulled a small notepad from his inner jacket pocket. "First, I wanted you to know that Janet Feldman is in our custody. Protective custody. Didn't want you to worry about her."

"Thank you," Craig said, although he was not fully aware of who Janet was yet, other than a witness, nor did he know much about the other staff as yet, either. He was still waiting for the personnel information he'd requested.

Detective Carson continued. "Other than that, we wanted to talk to your staff again. Individually. We're hoping now that everyone's had a chance to mull over what happened. Someone may have remembered seeing something earlier that day, before the incident. Maybe Martindale had a visitor no one recognized, you know? Or anything else that may have seemed unusual at the time, even if it doesn't seem to have anything to do with the shooting. Oh, and speaking of that, not only were we able to identify Ray Martindale from blood samples but the lab also discovered blood from someone else. They just haven't been able to identify who it is yet."

"Someone else."

"Yes."

Craig frowned. "So, you think there was more than one shooting victim." He was curious.

"Perhaps, since Ms. Feldman heard two shots," Carson said, "although if they struggled, and if someone got punched, blood transfer might have been a result of that; you know. We may want to reexamine the conference room."

Craig nodded. "Of course. Anything to help, but we did have a staff meeting in the room this morning. And apparently, the building management replaced the conference table. Did you remove the other one as evidence?"

"No. We didn't. If management removed it, I wish they'd talked to me first. They should know that. I'll give them a call," Carson said, "see if I can find out what happened to the other table."

"Okay. In the meantime, you're welcome to check anywhere and talk to staff." Craig stood and shook hands with the detective. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Absolutely," Carson said, then added. "I know you're stepping into the middle all of this, so I want to keep you apprised of our investigation and what we've managed to uncover."

"I appreciate that," Craig said. "And like I said, if there is anything else, I can do for you, let me know."

"Thanks." Detective Carson shook Craig's hand again. "I'll get out of your way, and we'll try not to disrupt things too much."

Craig walked him to the door. "I'll make a general announcement to everyone." He followed the detective out into the open suite and explained the situation then retreated to his office long enough to call the manager of human resources.

Ten minutes later, he met with Kathy Morrison. She handed him a stack of papers and showed him to an empty office space next to hers. He closed the door and sat at the desk.

One by one, he studied copies of non-sensitive employee information he'd requested. For the most part, each file told a very similar and relatively unremarkable story about each individual with the obvious variations one would expect from a diverse assortment of people. He read their work histories and noted their listed skills. He was especially interested in character references, which were generally more revealing than someone might think. He was very adept at seeing behind the words to elicit elements of a person's character.

Reading remarks from previous employers laced with words such as " _creative_ ," " _passionate_ ," " _zealous_ ," " _tenacious_ ," and " _highly disciplined_ ," might seem exemplary on the surface but in fact are often clues to someone's inability to fit in or conform to an organization's expected protocol. This is especially true if the assessment of an employee is riddled with such language. Instead, it likely means, ' _Take this person, please. We've had_ _enough of him_!' He couldn't help but smile at some of the more colorful character references of a few.

Craig was nearly finished when he picked up the information on Janet Feldman. He turned over a page then sat and stared at the photograph of a lovely young woman before noting her educational background, and previous employment. He jotted down some notes, used his phone to take a picture of Janet's photo, then placed her information aside before examining the last two or three then stacked all but Janet's and shoved them to one side of his desk.

He studied Janet's information again and stared at the photograph. "Janet," he said, unable to take his eyes off her image. He lightly fingered it and smiled noticing her soft eyes and an easy smile.

He used his cell phone to make a call. "I need some information," he said to someone. "This is a priority. I need you to find out all you can about a woman named Janet Feldman before our meeting tonight."

He hung up but continued to stare at her photograph. "So, you're the one they have in protective custody." He gathered up the stack of files, keeping Janet's on top and took them back to Kathy.

"I'd like to keep this one for a while longer," he said. "Janet Feldman."

She offered a sad smile. "Of course. She's been through so much. You can keep that information as long as you like, I only ask that you keep it locked up and don't remove it from the office please."

He thanked her and returned to his office.

Alex and Tony sat quietly across from each other listening to the low hum of conversation permeate the office as two uniformed officers sat with staff in the break room, asking more questions. Speculation continued to grow about the recent incident and what was being done.

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his chair and gazed out at the office then looked at Alex. "I don't know what else we can tell these guys. I told them everything I know the first time."

"Yeah, me too."

"I think they're grasping at straws. They don't have a clue what happened." Tony was irritated.

"We don't know that," Alex replied. "They may know all kinds of stuff, but they're not going to tell us any of it. Maybe they suspect someone from the office is involved. Asking more questions might trip someone up. You never know."

"I guess. I just wish they'd hurry up and get it over with. Cops make me nervous."

Alex let out a laugh. "You crack me up. If you're not guilty of shooting Ray or kidnapping Janet, you have nothing to worry about."

"Kidnapping." Tony looked surprised. "I thought the cops had her holed up someplace."

"All I meant was if you're innocent, stop worrying."

"You think I might be guilty?"

Alex stared at Tony in disbelief. "Just get back to work." He gave him a grin then looked up as an officer approached.

Alex waited for Tony's return from his interview with one of the officers. He had already taken his turn with a different officer and had just sat down when Tony joined him.

He let out a very audible sigh and began rubbing his forehead. "That was intense," he said as the officer invited another co-worker to join him in in the break room.

"Intense?" Alex smiled. "It was just a few questions. I'm sure you did fine."

Maybe, but what if he didn't like what I said?"

"He would have put you in cuffs and hauled you away." Alex kept a straight face but didn't look at his friend.

"You think?" Tony asked his eyes wide open.

Alex laughed. "Will you cut it out? You're fine."

"Don't they make you nervous?"

"There was nothing to be nervous about," he said. "I didn't do anything wrong. I just answered his questions. He wrote stuff down in his little notebook and then let me come back to my desk."

Tony finally nodded but started to watch Craig's door. "What do you think he's doing?"

"He who?"

"The boss. Craig. His door is closed."

"Which means he's busy and doesn't want to be disturbed, remember?"

"You think he heard what I said at the staff meeting this morning. It kinda looked like he did."

"What did you say?" Alex asked.

"I said I like him."

Alex was no longer amused. "You need to get a life, Tony. If he did hear you say that, I'm sure he was okay with it. If not, he would have called you into his office by now. But since the door is closed, I don't think he's upset with you or anyone else in here. He's got other things to worry about. Now, will you please let go of all this and get back to work? I'd like to get back to mine."

Tony looked as though he'd been duly scolded and became pensive.

Alex grinned. "I think I like the guy too. He seems nice enough. Doesn't yell."

"Not yet," Tony muttered quietly.

"I don't think he's a yeller," Alex said. "He seems calm and in control."

Tony looked up. "In control. You see? That's what Edna said; that he's here to take control."

"I thought you said you liked the guy."

"I do think I like him."

"Then everything's okay." Alex glanced at Edna's closed door. "However, she sure didn't look too happy this morning, but then she never does. And given his background, which sounded pretty impressive, although brief, she has every reason to be unhappy and uncomfortable with him being here."

Tony agreed. "Yeah. I'm sure she's ticked off about that." He looked around. "Can you imagine? They sent him here all the way from London. Why not bring in someone else that was closer, like from headquarters in Virginia or one of the other offices in this country? Why from England?"

"I was wondering about that," Alex said, "but maybe it's because he hasn't been directly involved with us before. You know. Fresh eyes. New blood." He looked over his shoulder at Janet's empty desk then changed the subject. "I wonder how Janet's doing."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, me too. Hard to say. And listening to the news last night, it sounded like things were pretty bad up here, you know, based on whatever evidence they found. And if she did see something, you know it had to have been really bad. Did she ever respond to your text messages?"

Alex shook his head. "No. They probably won't let her contact anyone right now."

Edna's door swung open suddenly. She stood in her doorway and glared at them. They immediately got back to work. For the next hour, things seemed back to normal for the most part.

Alex eventually went to the break room for some coffee once the questioning was finished. As he headed back to his desk, Craig walked out of his office. He went to Janet's desk and sat down then tried to open a locked drawer. He pulled a small black case from a pocket and selected a slender object, inserting it into the lock. Soon he had the drawer open.

"So much for security," Alex said as he sat down at his desk.

"What?" Tony looked up.

"Our new boss just picked the lock on Janet's desk."

"He did?" Tony looked in that direction, his eyebrows arched in surprise.

They both watched with interest as Craig removed some files from a drawer and spread them on Janet's desk. One by one, he opened each file and examined the contents. In the process, he knocked his small black case to the floor and bent over to pick it up. At that same moment, a loud crack and the sound of shattered glass penetrated the suite followed by screams.

"Everyone! On the floor!" Craig shouted. "Now!"

Alex and Tony scrambled under their desks. Peeking out, they could see one large window completely shattered. Crumbled pieces of glass fragments lay scattered in all directions on the floor, on nearby desks, and beyond.

"Someone just tried to shoot Craig!" Alex said, tersely.

# CHAPTER 10

Craig rolled away from Janet's desk and assumed a crouched position beneath another window. He carefully raised up and looked across the street at an adjacent high rise then quickly ducked down. _"Everyone! Stay down!"_ he ordered and immediately pulled out his cell phone.

Edna was on her hands and knees in her doorway and called over to Tony. "What happened?"

"Someone just shot at Craig," he said. "But he's okay, I think."

"Is the gunman in the office?"

"No. Whoever it was shot at him through a window – from across the street."

Edna crawled back into her office.

It didn't take long for the police to arrive, Detective Carson included. All had weapons drawn, were wearing bullet-proof vests, and three led with armored shields as they quickly entered the suite and assessed the situation. Craig had moved to a solid wall and was now standing. He motioned for the detective to join him. Quietly conversing, both men nodded and gestured to each other before Carson gave his officers their instructions.

Interior lights were turned off, and minutes later, the staff gathered together their coats and personal belongings. They assembled in the darkened conference room to wait then escorted in small groups to the elevator and down to the lobby.

"This is getting old," Tony said to Alex as they stood in the growing cluster of Global office staff in nearly the same spot as they had two days before. "Now what's going on? Why target Global, anyway?"

"Why Craig Stevens, you mean," Alex said.

"Maybe they were aiming at Janet," Tony replied.

"I seriously doubt that. Whoever took that shot had a high-powered rifle with a scope. There's no way the gunman would have mistaken Craig for Janet. I don't know about you, but I'm getting a little rattled by all of this. It's one thing to hear about something happening while we're all safe at home – but this – this is different. One of us could have gotten shot if we had walked into the line of fire at just the right moment."

"Yeah." Tony agreed then moved away from a nearby window as more emergency vehicles arrived on the street below.

Alex watched Detective Carson approach the assembled group.

"We're going to send you all home again," he said.

A few moans emanated from the group.

"I know, I know, but until we find out what's going on it isn't safe for any of you to be here."

"You think all of us are in danger?" someone asked.

"I can't say for sure, but I'm inclined to say no, but until we do know who's behind all of this, we'd prefer you to stay away from here. We don't want any collateral injuries."

"What about our jobs?" another one asked. "I can't afford to go without a paycheck."

"I've been told that Global management has agreed to continue to pay you and that you all still have jobs. In the meantime, I'm asking you to avoid speaking to anyone until we've gathered more evidence. We'll be holding a press conference shortly. After that, you can all leave."

As promised, law enforcement officials issued a public statement, outside of the building, to assembled media representatives with sketchy details about the incident, and a promise to provide updates as they learned more about the situation. Back inside the lobby, Detective Carson reiterated his request that no one speaks to the media. "Just leave. Go home or somewhere else, but it is vital that we preserve what we know and not allude to subjective opinions or unfounded information. Let us handle the media. Mr. Stevens also said not to return tomorrow unless you receive a phone from him or another authorized supervisor that it is safe to do so."

Alex nudged Tony. "I guess we might as well go." They pulled on jackets and followed a few other co-workers outside. It was lightly drizzling but Alex and Tony stood looking up at the high rise.

"I'd sure like to know what's going on," Tony said.

"Yeah. You, me, and everyone else."

"So, now what?"

Before Alex could respond, Edna approached. "Might I have a word?" she asked.

"Sure," they both said.

"Since we can't stay in the office working, I have a job for you."

Alex and Tony looked at each other in surprise then back at Edna.

"I want you both to do a little investigating of your own."

"Investigating?" Alex had to chuckle. "Us? What kind of investigating?"

"I mean –" she looked over her shoulder before continuing. "I want you to spy on Craig Stevens."

Eyebrows shot up.

"You heard me. I want to know what he's up to."

"What _he's_ up to? What makes you think he's up to something? And besides, why do you think we can find out anything?" Alex asked. "We're not spies, just budget analysts."

"All the better."

"No. Edna. We don't have a clue how to spy. He'll catch us. Besides, we've all been told to go home."

"You want to keep your job?"

"We _are_ keeping our jobs. The detective just said so."

Edna was exasperated. "If you don't find out what's going on, and stuff like this keeps happening, Global isn't going to keep this office open, and we will _all_ be out of jobs."

"Yeah, but –"

"Just do it. I want to know if he has a connection to Ray, for one thing, and why the company sent him instead of using someone already part of the office who knows our business inside and out." She turned and walked away.

Tony put his hands on his hips. "She's crazy."

"I agree, but she also wants Ray's job, which we already knew. At the same time, she made a good point. If this office closes, we'll all be out looking for work." He looked at his friend. "So, okay. We follow him around for a couple of days, tell Edna we didn't find anything, and all is good."

Tony let out a sigh. "I guess." He folded his arms. "Spy, huh? So, we're just going to sit here and wait for him to leave the building and then follow him around town?"

"Well, not right now, because I'm hungry, so let's go get something to eat first. We can talk about our strategy over some good food and out of this drizzle."

Tony laughed. "Strategy. We'd better come up with something good, or he will definitely catch us."

# CHAPTER 11

Craig Stevens and Detective Carson huddled together in the conference room at Global. Both men were tense over the latest incident.

"And you're sure Janet Feldman is safe," Craig said.

"Absolutely. We have a good officer with her.

"I believe you but I would feel more comfortable if you would please get in touch with your Officer and check on Janet."

Carson could see a deep concern on Craig's face. "You bet." He walked to the outer office to make his call and check on a couple of other things then returned just as Craig pocketed his cell phone.

"Just checking for messages," Craig said.

"Understood." Carson managed a smile but knew Craig had to be under a lot of stress and said so. "Not the best of circumstances, especially since you were sent here to fill in on a temporary basis."

"Yes. Very stressful," Craig replied.

Carson nodded. "I asked one of my other detectives to make the call. He'll get back to us in a few minutes."

"Thank you."

They continued to discuss the sniper attempt. Carson filled Craig in on as much detail as he could but apologized for the limited information. "Until we identify exactly where that sniper was sitting, we don't have much to go on at the moment."

"I understand, although I imagine you should have a pretty good idea where he might have positioned himself. I mean, based on the trajectory, whoever it was had to have been a floor or two higher than this one. The shot came down at an angle. At least that was my observation based on the entry and exit points at Janet's desk."

"I agree," Carson said. "But as I said, we're still looking. A couple of offices across the street and at a level consistent with your assessment, and ours have closed early for the Thanksgiving Holiday, unfortunately." He looked at Craig, who maintained a steady gaze on him. Carson shifted slightly. "We're preparing to get a court order to enter some of those offices. Don't want to hold up this investigation any longer than we have to."

"Very good." Craig broke his gaze to glance at his phone as it lit up. "I need to take this. I'll step outside."

"And I'll call my office again," Carson said.

Craig found a secluded spot to take his call. "What have you got?" Craig asked.

_"Not sure,"_ the caller replied. _"The safe house where Janet was supposed to be is empty. We've been listening to their scanners and apparently, the police have a couple of cars there right now looking around, but from what we gathered, there was no sign of her or anyone else there."_

Craig was agitated. "She has to be somewhere!"

"Agreed and we think we might have a lead. We're tailing a guy who was hanging around and talking on a cell phone. Based on the usual body language and his more than curious attention to what was going on, we think he may know something. We'll let you know."

"What's your cover?"

"Service vendor. Handyman. We'll keep you posted. How about at your end?"

"Nothing more than we already know. Is everyone in place? Here?"

_"Yes. We can meet tonight at the prearranged_ site _unless things change and you need us on something else."_

"Did Joe stay in L.A.?"

_"Yes. Just as you requested. He's fine with that. Still has a business to run_. _"_

"Okay. I'm going to wrap it up here. Call me with an update as soon as you have something."

"Copy that."

Craig headed back to the conference room. As he approached, he could hear Detective Carson on his phone.

"Ping her phone," Carson was saying. "She has to be somewhere."

Craig stepped back a few feet to listen for a moment then coughed and counted to five before he re-entered the conference room. Carson was sitting at the table with a look of concern and drumming his fingers.

"Everything okay? Janet okay?"

Carson didn't respond immediately.

"What is it?" Craig asked.

"We've lost contact with our officer, Emily Perez. Her phone keeps going to voice mail."

Craig remained standing and looked toward the windows of the conference room, the blinds still closed. His mind was racing. He couldn't make eye contact with the detective, afraid of what he might say. Finally, he collected himself sufficiently to talk. "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing. We're working on it." Carson stood up. "I promise I will contact you the minute I know anything."

Craig nodded. "Thank you."

"I need to get back to the station. I'll be in touch."

"I appreciate that," Craig said. He stepped aside so Carson could leave but remained in the conference room for a few minutes staring at nothing in particular. _Where are you Ray, and do you have Janet?_

At the precinct, Talmont paced. He was agitated, anxious, waiting for Carson to return. He had information he thought would be vital to their investigation, but now, with the very real possibility that Janet's whereabouts had been discovered, he was doubly anxious.

Detective Carson showed up thirty minutes later. "Sorry I took so long. Traffic." He took off his jacket and hung it on a coat tree then sat down behind his desk. "Okay. So, what have you got?"

Talmont breathed out and paused for a moment before asking a question first. "Any news about Officer Perez and Ms. Feldman?"

"Not yet so we might as well get on with something else. No point in just sitting around."

"Okay," Talmont said. "Well, I might have come up with something here," he said. "I've been going over those surveillance photos we got from building security; from the night of the shooting. Especially shots of the elevators that serviced the twenty-first floor and think I found something. Some of them don't sync up. There seems to be a gap in the timeline of several images; a critical gap."

Carson straightened up, very interested. "You may have found a piece of the puzzle we've been looking for," Carson said.

"Yes, well I talked to a security officer at the building and asked him to check some elevator footage starting at around seven-thirty that night up until the police showed up. He confirmed my suspicions. The time stamps don't sync up. I think someone tampered with the system to create a loop that continued for about three hours." Talmont looked at Carson who was staring back at him. "I can show you the stills if you like."

He waved him off. "That won't be necessary. I believe you. I'm just thinking how much time and effort had to go into all of this to pull it off. The crazy part is, if those two guys, the ones Janet described, hadn't gotten so greedy, it might have worked. All of it. And she'd be gone and with virtually no trace."

"I know," Talmont said with a nod.

"You know something else? I think Craig Stevens knows something we don't. I just can't quite figure out what. I mean I like the guy, and I think he's smart, in fact, he pretty much told me how to run my investigation, at least a piece of it. I don't know."

"What did he tell you?"

"To check the offices in the building across the street."

"We already know that."

"I know, but it was the way he described what happened. He talked about the trajectory of the bullet and the entry and exit points on the desk it slammed into. He's more than just a temporary businessman. He knows stuff. It was the way he spoke and how he looked. It was a little uncomfortable for a moment. I'd love to know more about him." He looked at Talmont. "Maybe we need to run a deeper background on him. See what we can dig up."

"Might be a good idea."

Carson let out a sigh. "I'm starting to think I should cancel my vacation."

"No. Don't do that. You've got good people working for you, and you need some time away from here. Besides, your wife would never forgive you."

Carson smiled. "I know we have good people and you're right about Shelly." He stood up and stretched then stared out his office window at the weather. "Drizzle. I know it's a part of life here, but it's really not my favorite thing. Either rain or not."

Talmont chuckled.

Carson turned around. "Anything else we can discuss that might give us a leg up?"

"Let me see," Talmont said, looking through his notes.

There was a tap at the door.

"Come in," Carson said.

Tim Dashell stepped in with a grin.

Carson jumped up; expectant. "Please tell me that grin means good news."

"I hope so," Dashell said. "I'm almost certain there was another person in the suite."

"How?"

"Well, it's more of an educated guess than anything else," Dashell said. "So, we're looking at smudges and smears from gloved hands, right? Can't get any prints from gloved hands but, sometimes we catch a break."

"Okay," Carson said. He motioned for Dashell and Talmont both to sit down. He settled back into his chair but leaned forward, elbows on the desk.

"Well, it turns out that at least one glove had an imperfection on it. Right here." Dashell pointed at a photo. "See that crease and little circle? I found it in several places. But based on the time frame we think we're dealing with; all these other glove prints likely were not made by the same person. That particular imperfection shows up in some places but not all; unless he kept changing his gloves."

"Not very likely," Talmont said.

"I would agree," Dashell replied. "And since Janet heard two men talking, they most likely were the ones looking around. However –" Dashell paused.

"However?"

"Well, if what they were saying, about wanting to break the door down to get in Martindale's office was true –" He grinned. "I didn't find any prints with the imperfection anywhere in that office. What I did find was a smudge."

"A smudge?" Talmont asked.

"Yes. Faye, the custodian, cleans every day. An officer questioned her. She said she wipes down every surface each afternoon when she makes her rounds, including file cabinets, desktops, and window sills. Anything that collects dust."

"Including Martindale's office?"

"Only if he's still in his office and agreeable."

"I see," Talmont said then frowned as he quickly leafed through a stack of statements on the desk. "And she stated that Ray left in a hurry before she finished cleaning the suite." He looked at Dashell. "You found something."

"I did."

"And?" Both Talmont and Carson responded in unison.

"I found smudges of blood mixed with trace amounts of fibers that match the small piece of carpet someone removed."

Carson nodded thoughtfully. "Where?"

"Inside the open safe."

"Inside. And you don't think that smudge might have been Martindale's?"

"No, and for two reasons. One, why would he put on gloves to rummage around in his private safe? And two, how could he if he's dead?"

Carson was frustrated. "You're right. I'm getting punchy. It just bothers me, though, about that carpet ending up in that maintenance closet. The only way to access it is from the outside hall, or through the secret door from the conference room, right?"

"That's true."

"So, whoever left that smudge did so after the shooting and had to have handled the piece of carpet in order to leave traces of it and the blood inside the safe." Carson sat back, but his mind was working on the clues. "Blood and carpet fibers in the safe and the carpet ends up in that closet – which means, whoever handled it had to act fast."

Talmont nodded. "Yeah. Move the carpet then hurry back to Ray's office and get into his safe."

Carson slowly shook his head. "And do all of that without Janet seeing any of it or hearing it." He shook his head again. "It just doesn't seem possible one person could do all of that in a short amount of time, and with all the lights out."

"Yeah," Talmont said. "If the same person got into the safe and moved the carpet, seems to me he'd check the safe first then move the carpet."

"Yeah. Which means there should be other evidence of that bloody carpet in the office suite, you'd think."

Dashell shook his head. "But there wasn't, other than in the safe itself. I had my guys swab and vacuum every square inch of the place. We examined everything we collected and came up empty when it comes to the carpet."

Carson sat back. "If we could figure out who that third person is, we might be able to get some answers. Otherwise, we're just chasing our tails and getting nowhere fast."

Talmont nodded. "You know, there is one other possibility."

"What's that?"

"All three of those guys were working together."

Carson let out a heavy sigh. "Too many variables. We need something solid. Something concrete to go on."

Talmont shifted then asked. "Is there any way to know what was in the safe and what might have been taken?"

Dashell shook his head. "From what you and Carson have said, no one else in the office knew about the safe."

"Well, obviously somebody did," Talmont said. "And they were able to get into the office, presumably locked at the time, open the safe, unless it was already open, and leave trace amounts of evidence. We just don't know what he or she took."

"Unless they didn't take anything," Carson said.

"What do you mean?" Dashell asked.

"What if that third person was more interested in what _wasn't_ in the safe or maybe wanted to put something else in it. Like maybe something incriminating."

Talmont creased his brow. "Do we have a list of items that were in the safe when we got in there to look around?"

Dashell nodded. "I do have a list. I'll get a copy to you."

Carson leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk again. "Let us know if you can get anything from that smudged print."

"Already working on it."

"And as for this third person," Talmont said. The more I think about it, what if he or she was acting alone?" Talmont said.

"Huh," Carson responded. "But why? His mind sifting through the information. "Whoever it was, handled the carpet and got blood transferred to his gloves. And it's possible they didn't know that Janet would be there or those two other guys."

Talmont's eyebrows shot up. "And if that third person was already in the suite before Janet showed up – "

"Yeah. Makes you wonder what they saw and heard." Carson paused. "Unless –

"Unless?"

"Unless Martindale asked him to be there as a back-up in case things didn't go according to plan. This other person may have been expected to help with a possible abduction as well as pay off those guys.

Dashell frowned. "You really think Martindale was planning to have Janet abducted?"

"I don't know, but I find it strange that these two guys are there with Martindale at the same time he expects Janet to show up. And the fact that Janet heard them talking about money and merchandise – it certainly seems to be shaping up to something like that."

"Or the merchandize could have been something else altogether," Dashell said, "and Martindale wasn't expecting anyone else to be there at the same time." Dashell stood up and collected his things. "I need to get back to the lab. If you need anything else from me, let me know."

"Thanks, Tim," Talmont said. "And you let us know as soon as you find out anything more."

"Sure thing." He started to leave. "Oh, did I hear about another shooting in that building today?"

"Yes," Carson said. "Possible sniper. Took a shot at Craig Stevens from a nearby high rise. One more thing to investigate that also seems to have some kind of connection to the first crime."

"Sniper, huh? And he missed?"

"Yeah. Missed – or not. We may never know if we can't locate some of these suspects."

"A warning maybe?"

"Possibly, but only Steven's would know. At least that's my opinion." Carsen stood up to stretch again."

"It's beginning to feel like that place has a curse on it," Dashell said. He walked out of the office, leaving Talmont and Carson alone to mull over the recent events.

"A curse. More like Global does, at least," Talmont replied.

"Yeah, you know, with the shooting the other night and now this one, it seems evident that someone has an agenda," Carson said. "We just gotta figure out who that someone is what their agenda is."

# CHAPTER 12

Alex and Tony chatted casually, on their way to a favorite deli for a late lunch, amused at Edna's assignment that they spy on Craig. They ordered sandwiches then chose to sit at a table next to a window to watch people stroll by in the drizzly afternoon.

"Have you started shopping for Christmas yet?" Tony asked.

"Heck no," Alex said. "My mother taught me that the first official day of the Christmas shopping season was the day after Thanksgiving so I'm sticking to tradition. I'll wait a few more days. How about you?"

"I'm still trying to figure out what to get everyone. We have a big family, and gift cards don't cut it. People in my family are insulted by gift cards. They want something you specifically selected just for them."

Alex laughed. "I know what you mean. I always buy something for my folks and two brothers, but everyone else gets a gift card, like it or not."

Tony shook his head then gave a nod as he took a bite of his sandwich. He happened to glance out the window and stopped in mid-chew. "Hey. Look."

Alex followed his gaze.

Both could see Craig standing across the street. He was on his phone and seemed animated.

"I wonder who he's talking to," Alex said. "He seems upset."

"Wouldn't you be if someone took a shot at you?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, so then, why is he out in the open?"

"Good question."

They continued to watch. Craig finally ended his call then hurried across the street and into the same deli. He ordered a sandwich to go then casually turned around and noticed Alex and Tony watching him. He grinned and headed to their table.

"Come here often?" he asked.

"Actually, yes," Alex replied. "You're welcome to sit with us."

Craig nodded. "I think I will. Thank you." He went back to the counter, paid for his meal, then joined them.

Tony looked at Craig curiously. "Aren't you a little concerned about being out in the open?"

Craig smiled but didn't respond to the question. Instead, he remarked, "I saw Edna talking to both of you earlier," he said. "She seems rather intense; uptight actually. Is she always like that?"

They both nodded.

Craig chuckled. "I've been in this business for many years. I watch people. Read lips and body language. I also speak or at least understand, a few other languages." He grinned. "So, she wants you both to follow me, is that it?"

"Wow." Tony's eyes got big. He sat back. "You _are_ good."

Craig laughed again. "It's helped keep me stay alive all these years. I've been shot at before but today's incident wasn't meant to kill me."

"It wasn't?" Alex asked.

"No. The trajectory of the bullet put it in into the corner of Janet's desk. It was a good foot away from me. Either the shooter has a bad aim, or it was meant as a warning."

"Warning." Tony's eyes were wide open.

Craig nodded. "I think so, yes."

"To warn all of us or just you, and about what?" Alex asked.

"That, my young friend, is the question of the day." Craig took a bite of his sandwich and waited a moment to respond. "With some luck, perhaps we'll be able to figure out."

"Luck." Tony nodded and gazed out the window. "My grandmother believes in luck, especially if it comes in a fortune cookie. She believes every one of those fortunes she gets."

Craig chuckled. "Every one of them?"

"Yup," Tony said. "She keeps them all. Tapes them into this little book. Then she reads them from time to time. She'll open the book at some random page and close her eyes then poke her finger on one. Whatever it says, she believes it."

Craig grinned. "Fascinating." He watched his two companions but asked Tony, "How about you? Do you believe in luck?"

"I don't know," Tony said. "I guess I do if I like what the cookie tells me." He laughed. "Otherwise, no. I don't need bad luck."

Craig finished his sandwich and drank some water. He stood up. "Ready to go?"

They all tossed their items in a receptacle at the door and headed back to their building. They didn't do much talking as they followed Craig until they were at one of the entry doors to the building.

Craig stopped. "Enjoy the rest of your day if you can. And remember to wait to hear from me or one of the other managers before returning to work." He shook their hands and headed inside the spacious lobby.

Alex and Tony watched him quickly walk across the lobby to the bank of elevators.

Tony shrugged. "Well, that was – weird. So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, maybe, unless they tell us to stay home."

"Yeah. But be careful going home," Alex said.

"Right. You too." They both looked around uneasily then parted company heading in different directions.

Stepping off the elevator on the twenty-first floor, Craig entered Global's suite and stood a moment to watch the activity going on regarding the latest situation. He stared at the broken window, now temporarily boarded up.

"Warning shot," he murmured as he headed for the conference room. "Not if I hadn't bent over to pick up my tool case." Before going to lunch, he'd set up his laptop computer on the large conference room table so he could work while staying close to but out of the way of the activity. Now with the lights off, he stood at the bank of tinted windows, the blinds tilted open slightly, and faced the opposite street. He was especially interested in a taller building one block farther over. It towered over a couple of buildings. A few of its office spaces had terraces. "Perfect place to take aim at us," he said aloud, "but whoever you are, you had to be either very, very good at what you do or a very bad shot."

He stepped back and walked around to the opposite side of the table and sat down at his computer. His thoughts were enmeshed in a number of theories and possibilities. He absently stared out at the gray afternoon. Weather reports predicted that the drizzle would turn to rain before nightfall, but he was unconcerned about the weather right now. His thoughts centered around the original reason he was in San Francisco.

With growing suspicions about Ray Martindale, the CEO of GHD Global, Reed Wallace, had secretly contracted with him to move to the Bay Area over a month ago. A mutual acquaintance, a retired Air Force Major General Whitney, and relative of Reed, brought them together. Craig remembered their first meeting. It was in a small town in Colorado. It was a same-day fly-in-and-out type of meeting. Reed picked him up at a small metro airport then drove to the Major General's private home to discuss Reed's concerns regarding Global.

Craig smiled at the memory and quick reunion with his former friend and associate. Although not a member of the Air Force, Craig, then a private contractor, and Whitney, a Captain at the time, were both part of a special ops mission to infiltrate, if possible, and otherwise investigate a European corporation and its financial ties to an unfriendly country.

By the time they'd finished discussing the situation at Global, he decided to meet with Reed using a lesser-known alias, that of Craig Stevens. The whole mission was a risk Reed was willing to make in spite of the fact that he was nearly certain that most, if not all, of his top executives, were caught up in a subtle and internal conflict within the company. Craig agreed that it appeared that Global was in the throes of what seemed to be an internal pillage of sorts. Reed shared that he was convinced each member of his executive staff had been systematically lured into participating in this secret combination of activity bent on a total takeover. What he didn't know was why. And that's what he wanted to find out if nothing else.

Craig left that meeting, armed with a stack of confidential papers to review and with the promise he'd be in touch with Reed within a week's time to either discuss a plan to move forward or to decline moving forward with the job.

His careful review of the paperwork did indeed show evidence of in-house embezzlement and siphoning those funds to offshore banking institutions. The activity was so cleverly orchestrated that attempting to trace those transactions back to its source was next to impossible, but with some help of an elite group of men in his employ, they were able to make some headway and in one instance, found a loophole that pointed back to Ray Martindale. Bolstered by that single coup, he was eager to undertake this new assignment primarily because he could see the stamp of his old adversary written all over it.

Within a few days, Craig had contacted Reed via a burner phone and after hours. He agreed that a near mutiny of sorts was at hand, beginning with the San Francisco office, primarily due to its remote location from headquarters on the east coast. It was his educated opinion that likely other offices would tumble in a near-cascade motion; similar to a line of dominoes falling in rapid succession.

Reed had been grateful, but anxious knowing his time was running out. His only reason for staying and doing what he could to save the company was based on his personal loyalties to the original founders of GHD Global - Jaxon Gerrard, Michael Hannity, and Cameron Davis. That alone, was the catalyst that drove him to take whatever desperate measures he could, to attempt to save the company and restore it back to its original purpose and integrity.

Craig pulled himself back to the present and quietly contemplated his original assignment. He was simply to move to San Francisco and stay for three to four months on an intelligence-gathering mission, as Major General Whitney described it. He, though, hoped to be able to do more than that, for personal reasons which he had not shared with his old friend or Reed. As a result, he managed to convince Reed to allow him to stay much longer. It had now been nearly a year since his task began.

Craig knew that Ray was not only smart and clever, but he was also a very patient man in many ways. He thoroughly covered his tracks and would carefully wait out commencing further actions until he thought it was safe to do so. He could begin a project, then sit on it for weeks or even months before fully implementing it. That pile of projects stacked on Ray's desk was evidence of that. Ray was skillful and knew that to successfully put any plan into play, he needed to make sure everything was in place and ready to execute nearly simultaneously.

Craig had been frustrated with the limited amount of information he was able to collect. He even put to use his adept ability as a master of disguises, to convincingly pose as a potential client soon after he'd arrived in the City. He chose to work with Peter Cummings, doing his best to avoid any direct contact with Ray. To anyone else, Ray may come across as bumbling, demanding, and crude, but there was much more to this man than anyone could possibly imagine. His and Ray's paths had crossed a time or two in the past, giving him a truer perspective of Ray and his unique talents.

Now, though, with the sudden disappearance of Ray, Reed had asked him to step in to assume the role of a temporary replacement for Ray. He had put together an impeccable resume for a man named Craig Stevens, complete with believable commendations and background history to satisfy the executive board of his choice. The fact that he'd promised them it was a temporary assignment helped gain their collective approval. In the public eye, it would be a favorable and believable step to take in the interim.

Craig reflected on that. Reed had warned him to be alert to any possible attempts by any other Global executives to recruit him to their so-called cause. The truth was that most of what was on that contrived resume was fairly accurate, just not the part about his longevity with the company. Now, though, he had an inside track. With some luck and skill, maybe this time he'd be able to dig deeper. He smiled then let out a chuckle. "Luck. Maybe I should buy a bag of fortune cookies."

As for the recruiting possibility, it was too soon to determine if that would indeed take place. In the meantime, being inside Global, literally, he would have easier access to information that might suggest what Ray was up to, or least confirm some of their suspicions. He would handle some of Global's business needs, of course, as part of his cover, and try to determine whether or not anyone else in the office was already a willing recruit of the executive board. But he also intended to continue working his agenda as well.

Craig had worked on consulting assignments in Europe for the most part but finally decided to form an elite corps of operatives who could function independently of typical business activities. He knew the types of individuals he wanted working for him and as a result, built a tight, but a loyal team. They had managed to establish themselves as being thorough and effective among corporate entities. His team became especially useful to companies who needed investigations handled more discreetly, and they were more than willing to pay for those services.

Craig was deep into his thoughts again. "I don't think you're dead Ray," he said quietly, "so, where are you? Who is helping you? And somehow you knew I was here. Is that why you hired someone to take that shot at me and if so, why at someone else's desk with the potential of hurting other people. Why not at your desk in your office? And was it intended to be a kill shot or an intentional warning? A game, perhaps? Cat and mouse? Come find me if you can?" Craig leaned back in his chair and stretched. "I will find you," he said. "One way or another, I will find you. We still have unfinished business."

# CHAPTER 13

Thursday morning. Thanksgiving was one week away, and holiday spirits were high. The recent and unsettling events seemed almost surreal to Global staff, now focused on jovial conversations centered on holiday plans.

Just before lunch, Detective Carson showed up and headed straight to Craig's office. He wanted to spend a little more time with him and see what else he could find out about the man and what he might know, in addition to the obvious.

In a more relaxed atmosphere, it didn't take him long to determine Craig Stevens was every bit the classic businessman. Clean cut. He wore expensive suits with an air of confidence and sophistication that easily put others on their best behavior.

"This is going to be interesting," Tony said as he observed the detective's arrival and admittance to Craig's office.

Alex glanced up from his computer screen. "Interesting? What us?"

"Stevens. That Detective just showed up. He's with the boss now." He laughed. "Stevens is no Ray Martindale."

Alex watched over his shoulder. "That's true. Hopefully, he's better."

"I sure hope so." Tony kept his eyes glued on the closed door. "You think there's any news? Think they'll tell us anything?"

Alex refocused on his computer screen. "It'll depend. We'll just have to wait and see."

Tony eyed Alex. "Have you made up your mind about him yet? About Craig?"

"Made up my mind?" Alex asked.

"Yeah. Do you like him or not?"

"I like him. I told you so the other day. Why? Have you changed your mind about him?"

"I don't know. I'm beginning to think there's more to Stevens than we first thought."

"Well, sure there is," Alex said.

"Yeah, I know but now that he's been here for a while and after that attempt on his life, I'm not so sure anymore. I think we only know what he wants us to know, you know?"

Alex suppressed a smile. "Again, that makes sense. There's stuff about you that nobody knows, right? Why should he be any different?"

"So, you don't have any more of an opinion about him?" Tony asked. "The first day he was here you said you were going to reserve comment for a while. So, what do you think right now?"

"I just told you. I think he's doing a pretty good job," Alex said, "but it's only been a few days. But I like the mood around here now, except the day of the gunshot and all, but he's a lot better than when Ray was here always yelling at everybody, and especially at Janet."

"Yeah, okay, but now I'm thinking I'd like to know more about him," Tony said.

Alex looked at him curiously. "Like what?"

"If I knew, I'd tell you. But I don't know."

"Then why bring it up?"

"Because I really thought you'd have more to say about it. Don't you feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"Come on, Alex. Don't you sense there's something kind of mysterious about him?"

Alex thought about it. "I suppose. He does seem a little secretive, but then that's what this company is all about, right? Keeping our clients' secrets safe from the rest of the world."

Tony made a face. "Yeah, well there's still something about Craig that I can't put my finger on."

"And when you _do_ put your finger on it, then what?"

"I don't know." Tony played with his pen. "Remember he told us at the meeting he was here temporarily. I wonder how long that's going to be."

Alex shook his head at his friend. "Why don't you go ask him? And while you're at it, you can ask when they plan to fix that shattered window. It's starting to bother me."

Tony looked away, exasperated.

"Seriously," Alex said. "As soon as his door opens, go ask. He's not going to bite your head off. Not like Ray would have."

Tony shifted in his chair. "He's busy with the detective."

Alex just shook his head and got back to work.

Fifteen minutes later, Detective Carson and Craig walked out of the office. Both men were congenial and shook hands before the detective left.

Alex heard them exchange pleasantries turned around to look. "Now's your chance," Alex said to Tony. "Go talk to the man."

Tony looked past Alex at Craig's door, which was wide open. "Naw. That's okay. I can wait to find out like everybody else."

"Chicken."

"I'm just being respectful. It's part of my Chinese American culture."

"Nice try." Alex grinned then noticed a look on Tony's face. "What?"

Tony stared over Alex's shoulder then quickly logged out of his computer. "Need a break?" he asked. "Let's go for a walk."

"Where to?" Alex asked.

"I don't know yet. It depends on where he's going." He nodded his head toward the front entrance.

"Who?"

"The boss," Tony whispered.

Alex looked over his shoulder.

"Come on," Tony said.

"Wait a minute," Alex said as he stood up. "He knows Edna asked us to spy on him."

"Right, and now he probably figures we won't because he knows she asked us to do that, so we will anyway and catch him off guard. Come on, before he gets too far ahead of us."

Exasperated, Alex logged off his computer and yanked his jacket off the back of his chair. The two of them hurried out, letting Hazel know they were taking a break.

"He'd better not catch us," Alex said as the elevator doors closed.

"He's not going to catch us. We'll keep far enough back."

Once in the lobby, they hurried outside and began looking around.

"There!" Tony said. "See? He's headed up California Street. Come on. Let's go!"

They quickly followed, weaving their way between people along the crowded sidewalk until Alex stopped and scanned the crowds in all directions. "Where'd he go? He was right in front of us."

Tony looked around as well. "Maybe he went into another one of the stores. Let's keep going."

They continued up the increasing incline of California Street and paused a moment to watch a cable car lumber uphill. The driver clanged his bell as he approached Grant Avenue then moved on through the intersection while Alex and Tony stood on the corner staring down Grant Avenue and into the heart of Chinatown.

"You think he went in there?" Tony asked.

Alex shrugged. "Maybe."

"Well, come on," Tony said, fully caught up in their pursuit. He watched the signal light and stepped off the curb as soon as it turned green.

Reluctantly, Alex followed. "I don't know about this," he said.

"What are you talking about? We're just following orders."

"I know that, and we both know Edna resents him being here, but we need to get back to the office."

"Why?" Tony stopped. "We just got here. What's the matter," he asked, noticing the look on Alex's face. "Wait. Don't you like Chinatown?"

"I've never been here before."

Tony looked at his friend. "Really? Why not?"

Alex shrugged again.

"You're not afraid, are you? Come on. I speak Chinese. I'll protect you." He let out a laugh.

Together they wandered along casually looking around. Tony pointed out a few interesting things while Alex nervously glanced over his shoulder every so often.

Tony noticed. "Relax, man. You'll be okay. Besides, it's broad daylight. The bad stuff doesn't happen until late at night when it's dark and creepy around here." He laughed at Alex's expression.

Alex kept watching anyway.

"You know," Tony began, "there are two Chinatowns here."

"Two."

"Yeah. One is for tourists mostly, like here on Grant, but for locals, it's the small shops along the side streets and alleys and all the markets over on Stockton, generally between Jackson and Columbus."

"Now you're starting to sound like Craig. I'll take your word for it," Alex said. He stopped. "I don't think he came this way."

Tony stopped as well and nodded. "Yeah. More than likely he's already back at the office."

"Then let's go back." Alex quickly turned around, then abruptly stopped.

"Afternoon, boys," Craig said with a big grin.

The walk back to the office was somber. Craig led the way, carrying a takeout bag containing a container of aromatic Chinese food. Waiting for a street light to change, he looked at his glum companions.

"Look. I realize bringing me in to oversee things at Global right now is unsettling. There will be trust issues – I'm well aware of that, and I appreciate your keen interest in what I do and where I was going this afternoon; whether or not you were following me to satisfy Edna."

With knotted stomachs, Alex and Tony nodded, fully expecting their new boss to chew them out.

Craig smiled. "But, in the future, when attempting to tail someone, you must be very aware of a few things. For instance, reflections in windows. Body language. Eye contact. And most importantly, make sure you are looking at what you're looking at."

Both men seemed surprised at his last statement and stopped.

Craig stopped as well and smiled. "Three times I stopped to watch you, but neither of you saw me. I was in plain sight. In your haste to find me, you weren't looking at anything; just a lot of people. You were also very distracted by familiar sounds, like the cable car, and other visual disturbances. I watched you look, but you didn't see anything significant, not really. In the future, slow down and carefully scan the crowd or an area of interest. Keep your movements slow enough to see things, rather than darting glances back and forth. It's good to be aware of typical distractions, and there are plenty of those here in downtown, but you cannot allow ordinary things to disrupt your objective. If you want to find what you're looking for, then look for things that are out of the ordinary – like me staring at both of you." He grinned. "Nice effort, though."

Alex hung his head, embarrassed. "I feel really stupid."

Craig patted him on the shoulder. "Don't. My first reconnaissance training opportunity was a complete disaster. They nailed me in the first five minutes. At least I gave you both a little more of an adventure." He laughed then looked at Tony. "By the way, I enjoyed learning more about Chinatown. Perhaps the three of us should go back sometime for lunch and do a little exploring."

"Y-You heard what I said about Chinatown?"

"Every word," Craig replied. "So, the best deals, I take it, are on Stockton between Jackson and Columbus. That's good to know. I do enjoy Chinese food."

Tony rolled his eyes, and Craig let out a hearty laugh.

"Come on," Craig said. "Let's get back to work." They began their trek back down California Street, but it wasn't long before they noticed a lot of unusual activity a few blocks away. With concern, they picked up their pace watching throngs of people stream out of their building like ants evacuating a disturbed nest. A number of them were heading in their direction.

Tony stopped two people he knew. "What's going on?" he asked.

"We don't know for sure other than the entire building is evacuating – again."

"Evacuating. Okay. Thanks." He hurried to catch up to Alex and Craig. He shared what he found out as they stopped to stare at several police cars blocking traffic. Barricades were going up quickly while a police line herded foot traffic away from the immediate area.

They stopped at the barricade. Craig showed his ID to a policeman and explained who he was. They allowed him to enter the area with instructions to talk to another officer a few feet away. Alex and Tony, however, had to remain where they were but watched with keen interest trying to catch bits and pieces of conversation around them.

"I wonder what happened?" Alex asked. "We were only gone for an hour."

He and Tony continued to watch then heard someone call out to them. It was Hazel.

"I'm so glad you're both safe!" she said, hurrying toward them. She looking troubled.

"What's going on?" Alex asked.

"We had a bomb threat!"

"A bomb threat!" Tony exclaimed. "Seriously?" He looked around. "I mean, shouldn't we all be like a mile up the street instead of right outside waiting for the place to blow up?"

Hazel was completely distraught and reacted to Tony's remark. "I don't want to die!"

"You're not going to die, young lady!" Edna walked up to her. "Pull yourself together!"

Hazel nodded but moved as far away from Edna as possible joining another group of Global staff.

Alex looked at Edna. " _Did_ they find a bomb?" he asked.

She glared at him. "And where were you two during all of this!" Her tone was both demanding and accusatory.

"We were doing what you asked us to do; following Craig. So, we did and took a lunch break at the same time," Alex replied.

"And returned with the new boss, I noticed," she said, still glowering.

"We ran into him on the street. _He_ was coming back from lunch, just like we were."

_"Hmm!_ " She said. "I told you to follow him, not become his best friend!" She turned and walked off a short distance. Taking a stance with her arms folded tightly across her chest, she maintained a steely gaze at Craig who continued the talk with the police officer.

"She'd make a great prison guard," Tony said also watching as Craig nodded to the policeman now and then and exchange remarks. Eventually, the two shook hands and Craig returned to a small group of lingering and concerned staff.

"Okay, everyone, gather around." Craig waited until he had their attention then filled them in on the current status.

"A suspicious backpack was found in an empty office suite down the hall from Global by a maintenance worker. A bomb disposal unit arrived to examine and extract it. They have removed it from the premises, but building security is accompanying police on a more thorough search of all floors of the building."

A hand shot up. " _Was_ it a bomb?"

"I don't know yet. In the meantime, to help with efforts to complete the search of the entire building, it will remain closed for the remainder of the week. At my request, each of you needs to check in with Officer Clemens standing over there." Craig pointed. "He's getting a headcount. If you need to retrieve personal items from the office, he will see that you receive an escort who will take you up and back down. All items must be checked before you can remove them from the office and again when you exit the building, including bags, satchels; anything you carry out. Then let Officer Clemens know when you're leaving the area." He gazed at his group. "Any questions?"

No one spoke.

"Okay, then do your best to enjoy your extended Thanksgiving Holiday. Unless you hear otherwise, be back the Monday following Thanksgiving and at your regular time.

Tony and Alex checked out with Officer Clemens and walked away but not far. They continued to linger and watch the scene. As with the previous incident, once again, it was a media circus. A growing crowd pressed toward the barricades while additional news crews from every conceivable television and radio station, as well as newspapers, jockeyed for a scoop.

Eventually, Alex patted Tony on the shoulder. "I think I'll go home and watch the news on TV. Have a good Thanksgiving, and I'll see you when we all get back; unless, of course, the building blows up."

"It's no joking matter, Alex. It could happen. That gunman might have intentionally missed Craig the first time, and the backpack bomb might have been a warning too, but what's to stop whoever is doing this from trying again, huh? Maybe he wanted us all out of the building so he could start picking people off with a high-power rifle or something."

Alex sobered and looked up at the towering exterior of the high rise, then at neighboring buildings. "You're right. I'm sorry." Let me know if you hear anything, and I'll do the same.

Tony agreed then walked away, soon swallowed up in the crowd.

Alex waited a moment then pulled out his phone and sent a text. A response came which he acknowledged. He then he casually began to walk around and watch.

# CHAPTER 14

Janet woke suddenly. She heard Emily talking and realized she'd received a phone call. Anxiously, Janet jumped out of bed and hurried to the living room. She noticed a serious look on Emily's face. "What's going on?"

"We're moving," she said. "The police think our location has been compromised. They're sending a unit to pick us up. Get your things and be ready to leave when they get here."

Janet stood motionless for a moment.

"Now."

Janet gave a start then hurried back to her bedroom. There wasn't much to get, just her purse and cell phone. She also grabbed the few clothes they'd provided and stuffed them in a small duffle bag. Back in the living room, she waited in the dark while Emily stood at the front window, with the drapes slightly parted to watch for the police car.

Janet remained quiet as they waited.

Suddenly, Emily stepped back. "They're here. Ready?"

Janet nodded, but she was frightened, and it showed.

"You'll be okay. It's just a precaution."

Janet nodded and followed Emily to the front door. They quietly descended the steps to the courtyard. Emily unlocked the gate and pulled it open then hurriedly escorted Janet to the waiting police car.

"You'll go with them, and I will follow in my car."

"Wait; what?"

"Just get in the car. You'll be fine. I promise."

It was late and very still outside. The clouds still hung low. A very slight movement of air produced an involuntary shiver. Janet pulled her sweater tighter across her chest and rubbed her arms briskly waiting for the officer to open the back door. She climbed in and looked at Emily, who gave her a thumbs up before the officer closed the door.

Janet panicked and looked out the window at Emily. She was talking to the officer. He handed her a piece of paper, and she nodded. Janet then glanced at the driver and noticed his eyes in the rearview mirror. He was watching her. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

The other officer climbed into the front seat, and the driver pulled away while Janet watched Emily who gave a slight wave.

"She'll join us at the new location," the first officer said halfway turned in his seat to look at Janet. "No need to worry."

Janet nodded but worried, nonetheless. Something didn't feel right about this. She found her voice. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see soon enough," the officer replied.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Officer Wainwright."

She looked at the driver.

"He's Officer Zane."

Janet attempted to get comfortable and watched out her window as they left the immediate neighborhood. Soon they pulled onto the Great Highway that ran parallel to the Pacific coastline and headed south. There was some traffic, but not too much, especially at this time of night. Janet finally fixed her gaze on the road ahead, looking through the protective grill, separating her from the front seat, and out the front windshield. The wipers swiped across the drizzle-covered glass intermittently. She wondered where they were going and how long it would take to get to this new safehouse.

A few miles farther, she caught sight of a road sign that directed visitors to the San Francisco Zoo. A few miles beyond that, the Great Highway merged with Skyline Boulevard in the next county. Although Janet was a relative newcomer to the area, she had been to the Zoo and farther south along the peninsula on a few weekend day trips. She also knew they were headed into San Mateo County and the next town was Daly City. Was the new safehouse in Daly City?

"How much farther?" she asked.

"Just a few more miles," the driver said.

It wasn't long before they exited the highway and ended up on a surface street leading into a business district. Closed car dealerships lined both sides of the street. They abruptly turned into one of them and came to a stop.

Janet was completely alert and watching. "What are we doing here?" she asked.

"Transferring you to another vehicle. Just a precaution," the driver said.

She slumped back and kept watching. A second police car pulled in as well. Janet watched and soon saw Emily get out of the car and approach Officer Wainwright, who had stepped out of their car and waited for her. They spoke for a moment until she noticed Emily check her phone. She stepped away to take the call. Officer Wainwright returned and opened the back door to talk to Janet.

"Okay. We'll switch cars here."

"But where's Emily? Officer Perez?"

"She got a call. We're going to use a van parked over there," he pointed. "Someone will be by later to get our car and take it back to the City. Officer Perez will return to the City as well. She was assigned to make sure we weren't followed."

He offered his hand, and Janet reluctantly accepted it as he helped her out of the car. They walked across the lot to a van sporting a SALE sign on the windshield. Officer Zane pulled it off and deposited it along the side of the small auto sales office building.

Janet looked for Emily but didn't see her anywhere on the dark lot. "But I thought Officer Perez was supposed to stay with me."

"Change of plans."

"What do you mean?

"I mean, you are our responsibility now. So, no more questions."

Janet stood her ground. "I don't feel good about this."

"Suit yourself," he said.

At that same moment, they pulled a black cloth bag over her head. One of them grabbed her hands and yanked them behind her back. She fought to get loose but strong arms grabbed her shoulders as her hands were tied. She tried to kick the two men, but one held her legs while the other secured her ankles. Then they picked her up and shoved her into the van while she screamed for help.

"Won't do you any good to scream," she heard Officer Wainwright say. There's no one here. No one to help you."

All set?" Janet heard Officer Zane say.

"Yeah. Let's get outta here."

Front doors opened and slammed shut. The engine roared to life, and soon they were on the move.

Janet lay stiffly in the back of the van as it made its way out of the business district and evidently back on the highway, based on road noise and other traffic. Although they did not gag her, the cloth bag was synched around her neck and uncomfortable, making it difficult to breathe. She had to force herself to slow her breathing to avoid a full-blown panic attack.

Reminiscent of the dark cave in the Sierra Nevada's two years ago, it was all Janet could do to remain calm. Her wrists hurt from the restraints, and her upper arms and shoulders ached due to the position she was in on the floor of the empty van. At least there was a mattress of some kind that helped cushion her body from road bumps.

Eventually, they left the highway and ended up on a road that seemed to wind back and forth. Janet couldn't hear as much traffic and decided it was probably a side road, and maybe with only two lanes. As such, as the road twisted back and forth, she had a hard time staying put, with her ankles also tied. Here and there she rolled to one side or the other. She was completely helpless and terrified. This was no attempt to get her to another safe house; she'd been abducted. But what about Emily, her bodyguard? Where was she?

It wasn't long before things changed. Suddenly Wainwright and Zane began talking louder, and one said something about being followed.

_Followed?_ Janet was hopeful it might be the police.

"Lose 'em!" the other man said.

"Trying to," the driver replied, "but it ain't easy on this road, and it's slick with this drizzle."

Janet was tense as the van sped up. Suddenly it began to veer from right to left several times. _Someone is trying to force us off the road!_ She thought.

Without warning, something rammed into the driver's side of the car pushing it to one side. Janet screamed. She struggled to stay in one place but without success, as the van continued to swerve. The driver managed to maintain control, but again they were rammed from the side. Then, in spite of his best efforts, the driver lost control after one last bump sending it into an out-of-control spin. At the same time, it nearly tipped over then settled on all tires, rocking hard from side to side until it finally came to a stop. She heard the front doors open and realized both men were attempting to flee the scene. Then there were shouts followed by gunfire. Finally, it was quiet.

Janet remained still. Waiting. Terrified. Her senses heightened. Suddenly the side doors jerked open and two pairs of hands reached for her. She screamed and thrashed as they lifted her out of the van. She could tell they were men but had no idea who they were since neither spoke. One of them held onto her right arm while the other grabbed her left arm. Together, they literally picked her up, feet dangling, and hurried away from the disabled vehicle. In that instant, she knew she was going to die.

# CHAPTER 15

Hands and feet still tied; Janet was once again lying on a mattress on the floor of a cargo van as it sped away from the accident scene. At least the bag was off her head, and she could see, such as it was. There were two windows in the rear doors of the van and then the windshield in front. That was it. From her position on the floor in the back, she couldn't see a thing, besides it was dark outside. Windshield wipers slapped moisture off the windshield while two unknown men sat in front speaking quietly in Spanish. The van took a sharp curve that tossed her over on her side.

"Ow!" she complained at the jolt. "Hello! Excuse me! But who are you and where are we going!"

Neither man responded.

"Where are you taking me!" She demanded again.

"Where you'll be safe," the passenger finally replied.

"I _was_ safe!"

"Were you? Tied up in the back of that van? You were not safe. You weren't safe when those two bogus cops came and picked you up from that house, either, which by the way was not a safe house. You weren't safe when they switched you from their phony police car to that poor excuse for a van they stole off that car lot back in Daly City. Now you are safe. With us."

Janet had no response. They were right about the two officers, obviously, but why should she trust these guys?

"Are you with the police?" she finally called out to them from her prone position.

"Heck no. Just sit tight. No more questions right now," he said.

"But –"

He held up one hand, indicating silence.

Janet struggled into a seated position again trying to make some sense of her current situation. _This is safe? What was so safe about being tied up in the back of this van, any more than the last van - and by two more unknown men? Who were they? And where are they taking me?_

She guessed they were still on a two-lane road with no other traffic that she could tell, and no headlights shining through the windshield. Just darkness outside, wherever they were.

"Won't you at least tell me where we're going?"

No response.

"I'm no safer with you than I was with the last two jerks!"

Janet worked her way closer to the sidewall of the van and leaned against it, physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. She fought sleep but eventually closed her eyes and dozed off to the steady hum of the van's engine and the rhythm of the wheels on pavement. Soon she began to dream. Events from two years ago came once again. She could see the buildings on fire. She could hear the sounds of screaming women. She could even smell the smoke. Then there were guns. Guns were shooting everywhere it seemed, but it was the fire. The fire was all around including the shed where she was hiding. Everywhere she looked there was fire. She tried to scream for help, but no sound came then suddenly she did scream and immediately woke up.

"What the –!" the driver slammed on the brakes throwing Janet forward.

Her head slammed on the mattress, and she moaned.

"Get back there and see what happened," the driver said.

The passenger climbed into the back and knelt beside her. "Hey. Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Janet looked around the darkened interior of the van breathing heavily. She stared at the man. She couldn't see him very well in the darkness. "Please don't hurt me," she pleaded and started to cry. "Please don't hurt me."

"We're not going to hurt you. We really are rescuing you. You'll see." He untied her hands, then her feet. "We would have untied you sooner, but we didn't want you to try to jump out of the van." He helped steady her in an upright position. "That better?"

She nodded but continued to cry.

"It's okay. We are helping you."

"I don't believe you," she managed to say between sobs. "I don't believe you."

"I know this is hard for you to understand. I'll stay back here with you until we get to where we're going."

"Let's go!" he called out to the driver. "She's okay."

"My name is John, by the way," he said. "And the maniac up there driving this rig is Hector. We're partners."

"Partners?"

"Yeah. We work together, and we are good guys, most of the time." He chuckled, but Janet just stared at him, sniffing and wiping her face.

"No, seriously, Janet, we just want to help and protect you."

She put a hand to her chest to feel for her locket. "How do you know my name?"

"Uh, well, we were sent to rescue someone named Janet, so that's who we thought you were. I guess we were right, huh?"

Janet could tell he was grinning. "I was dreaming," she finally said. "I'm sorry I screamed."

John sat next to her and put an arm around her. "You don't need to apologize. We're almost there. Not much longer."

_"Who_ told you my name?" she asked.

No response.

"Your name is John?"

"Yes."

"For real?"

He grinned. "For real. John Mendez."

"You speak Spanish?"

He laughed. "Si! Toda mi vida."

"Cuántos años tienes?" she asked.

He grinned. "Su español es muy bueno. Tengo treinta y nueve. ¿Y usted?"

"None of your business."

He laughed again. "So, you speak Spanish."

"Not really. I studied French in school. I happened to pick up a few Spanish words and phrases at one of my last jobs – in southern California. Janet closed her eyes and slumped against his shoulder still thoroughly exhausted. She dozed off again unaware of their progress until John shifted his position and she woke up.

"We're here," he said as the van began to slow. She could feel them turn and drive a distance farther before coming to a stop.

John crawled to the side doors and opened them. He stepped out then helped her. "Come on." She wobbled slightly, but he steadied her. "Take it easy," he said. "No rush."

"Where are we?" she asked and pulled away from him.

"Someplace safe."

"Mmm-hmm. Just like the last place, but where?"

"Someplace much safer thank the last place," he repeated. "You like to ask a lot of question, don't you?"

Janet was surprised at how pleasant he was, then replied, "Why does everyone get upset with me for asking questions? Wouldn't you be asking questions, if you were me?"

He shrugged. "I guess, and I'm not upset." He led her to a solid wood gate, slightly open, that led to an inner patio of a house. A tree grew to one side with a bench under it. The ground was covered in pavers up to the front door, with a few clay pots housing plants placed here and there. Ahead of them, Hector already had the front door open. John closed the gate then followed Janet.

She tentatively stepped inside, then stopped and stared in amazement as Hector turned on lights. The place was spacious and open and nicely furnished. There was a kitchen to the right with a dining area to the left. Beyond that was a vaulted and exposed-beam room with floor to ceiling windows on one wall. In the middle of the windows was a set of French doors, which she figured led to a patio. Although it was pitch black outside, she walked up to the windows anyway and cupped her hands around her eyes hoping to see something outside. Someone switched on an outside light. All she could see were raindrops tapping against the windows.

"You can go out if you like," John said and grinned. I can get you an umbrella. You'd be able to hear the ocean."

Janet continued to stare out to the night. "Ocean? We're that close to it?"

Hector opened the door. A cold breeze carried a few raindrops inside but from the darkness beyond she could hear the unmistakable sound of the crashing surf nearby.

"You wanna go out?" Hector Asked.

She shivered and shook her head. "No, thanks."

He closed the door. "This place is on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, with a private narrow beach about fifty feet below us, just beyond the patio." He pointed at the windows.

She nodded absently. "So, what is your name again?" she asked without looking at him.

"Hector. Hector Garcia."

Janet continued to stare through the windows at the rain-soaked patio again then shook her head. "I'd rather stay inside. I'm not too eager to be thrown into the ocean just yet."

Hector stared at her and glanced at John, who shrugged. "We're not going to throw you into the ocean," he said. "Why would we?" He turned off the patio lights.

This time she did look at him. "To finish the job those two other guys weren't able to do." She glanced toward the now dark patio. "All I have to do is go out there and then you guys will sneak up behind me and throw me off the bluff." She gestured with both arms. "Just like that. Done."

Hector wandered away. "Whatever."

She watched as he went to the kitchen. "Well, what do you think I'm going to think? I've been snatched and stuffed and stashed and tied up and blindfolded and bounced around in the back of two different vans, including yours, and in less than a day. Do you blame me for thinking I'm going to die?"

"No, we don't blame you for anything, and we certainly don't want you to die," John said. "What we are going to do is protect you until someone can figure out what's going on and why you are a target. And the only reason we kept you tied up was to make sure you didn't do something crazy like jump out of the van while we were driving. That's all. I untied you, and here we are. Home, sweet, home." He also gestured, but with a grin.

Janet let out a sarcastic laugh. "Right. Home." She sighed then walked away from the windows.

"How about I show you to your room so you can get some rest; unless you're hungry," he said. "We can fix you something to eat. Thirsty? Anything?"

Janet stared at them. "You're both the weirdest kidnappers I've ever heard of."

"We're not kidnappers," John said. He looked at Hector. "We are not kidnappers."

"No, we're not," Hector agreed, "but we can be a little weird sometimes." He grinned. "You in particular."

John tossed him a look. "I am not weird. Look who's talking about being weird. What about that cantina we visited a few days ago? Hmm? And that cute little senorita –" He accentuated his remark with a swagger.

"Okay, that's enough," Hector said. He looked at Janet. "I agree we can be weird." He looked at John then back at her. "But we did not kidnap you. We rescued you from people who _were_ kidnapping you." He walked to the sofa and sat down. With his feet propped up on the coffee table, he tilted his head back and covered his eyes with one arm. "Let me know when dinner's ready."

"I am not your chief cook and bottle washer," John said. "Fix your own damn dinner."

Janet's eyes were wide. "Definitely weird."

John took the time to show Janet to her room and said he was going to fix soup and sandwiches for dinner. "It's quick and easy. And while you're waiting, you can take a shower, lay down, do whatever you want – except leave." He smiled. "I'll let you know when dinner's ready."

She waited for him to step out into the hall then quietly locked the bedroom door.

"I heard that," John called out.

Although annoyed, she couldn't help but smile then took inventory of her room. She was pleasantly surprised and opened a door. "Closet." She opened a second door. "Bathroom. Nice."

Downstairs, Hector sat on a barstool at a raised counter watching John. "Hear that?" He nodded his head toward the stairs. "Running water. She must be taking a bath or shower."

"Good. That should help," John said. He emptied some cans of soup into a pot to heat. "She seems nice enough, and I sense a little bit of spunk in her."

"Yeah, me too. She doesn't miss much, is highly suspicious, a little sarcastic, and doesn't hesitate to ask questions," Hector said. "I kinda like that in a woman."

John chuckled. "Yeah, well, don't get carried away, she's too young for you. Besides, she's an assignment. We're gonna have to be careful not to get too attached, and we need to be careful what we say around her too."

"I know." Hector drew in a deep breath and exhaled. "I sure wish we knew more about her and what this is all about." He stared at the staircase. "Does she remind you of someone?"

"Like who?" John asked.

"Carmelita."

John followed his gaze. "Maybe a little; but a grown-up version."

"Yeah." Hector finally broke his gaze.

John watched him for a moment. "We'll find her," he said quietly. "We have to find her."

Hector nodded. "Si, mi amigo. Tenemos que encontrarla."

John changed the subject. "He is coming tonight, right?" he asked.

Hector refocused on their current circumstance. "He said he would. Just waiting to hear from him."

John stirred the soup. "Well, he'd better. I don't mind babysitting for a while, but it would be nice to know what's going on."

Hector hopped off the stool. "I'll turn on the television. He did say something about that company he was sent to handle for now. What was it called again?"

"I don't know," John said. "Something Global, I think."

Hector pushed a button on the television remote. "Doesn't help that we've been in Mexico for the past couple of weeks and out of touch."

"Yeah. So much for being on vacation."

Janet stood in the pulsating water allowing it to work on her head, her shoulders and back, then down her legs for several minutes. It felt good. She adjusted the showerhead to a gentler flow then let the warm water soothe her face and caress the rest of her tired body. Not in any hurry, she repeated the process several times. There was no reason to rush. She wanted to enjoy this simple pleasurable experience for as long as possible since it might be her last.

"I don't care what they say about protecting me. I don't trust them one little bit."

After another ten minutes, she got out, dried off, and re-dressed then quietly opened her door to listen. John and Hector were talking to each other but in Spanish again. Some of the words were familiar, but the conversation was a mystery to her. Since she grew up close to the Canadian border, in her Wisconsin hometown, French was the popular language to study in high school, although she hadn't mastered it.

She sighed and squared her shoulders to bolster her confidence, if that were possible, then quietly started down the stairs. One tread let out a noticeable squeak giving her away.

"We can hear you coming," she heard Hector say.

She hesitated a moment then made her way to the ground floor, determined not to let these two men get the better of her.

Both were in the kitchen dishing up soup and placing sandwiches on a tray.

Hector looked up and grinned. "Just in time. You look much better. More refreshed." He had to force himself to look away. She was very attractive and especially right now, with damp hair clinging to her face and shoulders.

She ran her fingers through her hair and attempted to arrange it somewhat. "I do feel better, thank you," she said, watching them carefully. "I see you waited for me."

"We did wait," John said. "As soon as we heard you turn off the water, we finished getting everything ready."

She lowered her eyes. Don't give into them. Stay on guard.

John looked at Hector, and both exchanged knowing looks. Yes, definitely a grown-up version of Carmelita.

Hector attempted to get back on track and smiled. "Look. We know you don't trust us and we don't blame you. You may never trust us, but I swear to you that we have our orders and that is to protect you at all costs."

She looked up and cocked her head. "Your orders? From whom?"

Hector glanced at John then back at her. "From our boss, who is adamant that we keep you safe."

"Who's your boss?"

Hector shook his head. "We're not at liberty to disclose that information right now."

She eyed him suspiciously but decided not to ask any more questions.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Sure," she said but had every intention of keeping her eye on both of these strange men.

# CHAPTER 16

More rain moved into the Bay Area and with it came low clouds. Gusts of wind whipped the rain against Detective Carson's office window. It was almost eleven o'clock, and he was tired. His wife called to make sure he was okay and asked when she might see him again. He promised to come home soon but not to wait up. Shelly knew her husband all too well. When working a case, he was tenacious and hard on himself, which often included foregoing sleep.

A space heater added some warmth to his office as he returned his gaze to an open file on his desk. There was a light tap on his open door. He glanced up to see Craig Stevens and stood up. "Thanks for coming in so late and in this weather," he said, extending his hand.

"Not a problem," Craig replied and accepted the handshake. He removed his damp overcoat and draped it over a nearby chair, then sat across from the Detective.

"I don't want to take up too much of your time," Carson said, "so I'll get right to the point. What can you tell me about Janet Feldman?" He watched Craig with great interest.

"Not much. I've never met her," Craig said. "You'd already taken her into protective custody by the time I arrived at Global."

Carson nodded. "What's in her personnel file? Anything of interest?"

Craig thought for a minute then slowly shook his head. "No. Not that I could discover. Why?" Now Craig studied Carson.

"We have a – situation."

"Situation?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And I was hoping you could give us some help."

"In what way?"

Carson smiled. "Well, first tell me more about Ray Martindale."

Craig cocked his head slightly. "He's been with Global for quite a few years. Became the head of the Western Division some time ago as the Managing Director."

Carson picked up a business card from the open folder. "Says here he's the Vice President."

"Self-appointed title," Craig said. "Prior to coming here, he worked in various positions including field agent; investigations, and security consultations – that sort of thing."

Carson put the card down. "So, he would have gotten to know a lot of people," Carson said.

"Absolutely."

"All kinds of people?"

"Yes."

"You are a man of few words, Mr. Stevens."

Craig smiled. "Sometimes, brief and to the point is better. Besides, a good friend of mine is an attorney. He's taught me to answer the question and not volunteer too much information that may not be relevant."

"Unless it is relevant," Carson said. "Is there anything more you can add that _may_ be relevant?"

"It would depend on what you need to know. Perhaps if you could tell me what you're looking for, I might be able to provide better answers."

Carson studied his guest as if trying to read his mind.

Craig broke the silence. "You began by telling me you have a situation and then asked about Janet Feldman. Is knowing more about her, or Martindale, going to help with your situation?"

Carson sat back and paused before responding. "I need to know where she is."

Craig showed surprised. "What do you mean? I thought you had her."

"We did have her."

Craig continued to show surprise. "She's missing?"

"Yes."

Craig looked away for a moment then back at the detective. "How? When?"

"We're not sure how and as for when that's also a mystery. Our Officer, and Ms. Feldman's bodyguard, Emily Perez, has not called in nor has she responded to calls from us in the past couple of hours.

Craig frowned. "That is troubling. And you have no idea where she is."

"None."

"No witnesses? Neighbors, maybe?"

"Not yet. At least none that we know of." He watched Craig. "We'll conduct a canvass of the neighborhood first thing in the morning. Someone might have seen something, but it's going to be a long shot. This late at night and with the weather like it is, most people tend to hunker down. Keep the drapes closed. Distract themselves watching noisy television shows."

Craig nodded but didn't comment.

"We sent a squad car to the safehouse to check it out," Carson said, "but no one was there."

"Including your officer," Craig said.

"Yes. Including her." His phone rang. "Excuse me a minute." He picked up. "Yes." He listened, then reacted with grave concern. "When. Where? Daly City. How did she –" He listened again. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks." He hung up.

"Trouble?" Craig asked.

Carson leaned back in his chair, lips tight, and blew out a heavy sigh. "They found Officer Perez."

Craig waited.

"Shot. Execution style. Bullet to the head."

Craig stiffened, now genuinely concerned. "Where?" he asked.

"Auto row. Daly City. One of their squad cars noticed two of our patrol cars in a car sales lot and stopped to find out what was going on. Both cars were empty. Abandoned. One was ours, but the other was disguised to resemble a police car. They found Officer Perez' body stuffed in the trunk of our car – the one assigned to her, and called for backup." He stood up. "Right now, both cars are being towed to our garage so our man and his team can go over them first thing in the morning. See what they can find."

"What about Janet?" Craig asked.

"No sign of her. Nothing."

Craig stood up. "How can I help?"

"I was hoping you might have more details about Janet and her responsibilities at Global. What did she do for Martindale? What did she know that might have made her a target? Anything."

Craig nodded thoughtfully. "What I know at the moment is that Janet was Ray Martindale's executive assistant, as you already know. She was working on quite a few contracts for him. As I reviewed all of them, most seemed inconsequential, in different stages of completion – almost like busy-work."

"That doesn't make sense," Carson said.

"I agree and I wish I knew why. Even prior to all of this, headquarters believed Ray had gone rogue in a manner of speaking, taking advantage of his position and the distance between San Francisco, and Virginia. We suspected he was involved in illegal activity, we just didn't know to what extent or with whom. My educated guess is that Ray either double-crossed someone or in some other way upset parties he's been dealing with. It's presumed that someone came to deal with him the night he was shot."

"So, you don't think he was expecting anyone else besides Ms. Feldman coming back to work at his request."

"That's one theory."

"You have other theories?"

"Nothing substantial. Right now, we're going with that one theory."

Carson nodded. "Well, that jives with something Janet said during our interview with her. She said she was also beginning to suspect her boss was involved in activity that may or may not have been illegal."

Craig reached for his overcoat. "And there was no other evidence left behind at the safe house that might suggest any suspects?"

"No. It was just our officer and Janet living there."

Craig shrugged into his coat and took a deep breath. "If, in fact, Ray was involved in any type of illegal activity, it's possible Janet knows something that could be incriminating, but she may not be aware that she knows anything. I seriously doubt she was knowingly involved and any such activity, at least based on our inhouse questioning of other staff. Everyone had high regard for her and without exception gave her praise on how well she seemed to be able to handle Martindale. Knowing what I do about him, he would have been a difficult man to work with and for."

Carson agreed. "I got the same feeling, and I think you're right about Janet. She didn't strike me as being someone who would willingly, or knowingly, become involved in anything illegal."

Craig reached across Carson's desk and shook his hand. "I'll keep digging at work and let you know if I come up with anything that might be of use to you."

"Thank you," Carson said, "And thanks, again for coming here so late."

"Not a problem. It was on my way home."

Detective Carson stood in the doorway of his office and watched Craig Stevens leave.

Detective Talmont stood across the empty squad room watching then approached his partner. "Anything?" he asked.

"Not much more than what we already know. But I still think he's hiding something. He knows more than he's telling. There's just something about the guy. He's an intelligent man and shrewd. We need to keep an eye on him."

"Put a tail on him?"

"Yeah. Let's do that. Can't hurt."

"I'll assign someone."

"Okay, but make sure it's someone who's good at it. We don't want to tip him off."

"Understood."

Carson breathed in deeply and let it out. "Dashell leave for the day?" he asked.

Talmont offered a tired smile. "Yes. A couple of hours ago.

Carson's desk phone rang. He hurried to answer. "Yes?"

"It's Craig. I was just wondering if you'd like me to get in touch with some of my private sources. Given the business I work in, I've made a few contacts. One or more of them might be able to shed some light on this."

Carson was surprised at the sudden offer. "I would appreciate that, yes."

"Consider it done. Is there anything else?"

Carson let out a sigh. "Not that I can think of at the moment."

"Okay. I'll be in touch."

"Who was that?" Talmont asked as soon as Carson hung up.

"Stevens. He's suddenly offering his help and said he'd have some of his sources check around."

"His sources. You think he's really offering help or trying to distract us in some way?"

"I don't know, but if he wants to help, I'll be curious to see what he comes up with. If any of his information is useful, great. If not, then your suggestion might be more accurate than we realize at the moment. Right now, though, I'll take whatever we can get. We can put a couple of people on whatever information he offers, but distraction or not, we still have a job to do."

He sat down at his desk. "All of this is tied together somehow," he said. "The shooting incident Monday night, Martindale's disappearance, Stevens getting shot at, and the bomb threat. Now Janet has disappeared, and one of our officers is dead. Executed, apparently."

He looked up at Talmont, fatigue showing in his face. "Let's go home. Get some rest. We can't do much more right now. Once Dashell and his team show up tomorrow morning, they'll have plenty more to look at and process." He stood up again and reached for his coat. "I'm just sick about losing Perez. She was a good cop."

"Yes, she was," Talmont said. "A damn good cop."

# CHAPTER 17

Craig sat in his car, still parked at the police precinct. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number then waited as he watched the steady drizzle form into tiny rivulets and run down his windshield.

"Boss," John said. "You still coming tonight?"

"I am, but first see what you can find out about a police officer named Emily Perez."

"Okay. What's up?"

Craig explained what had happened then asked about Janet.

"She's doing pretty well," John said. "Went back to her room after dinner. She's tired. We're hoping she'll get some sleep tonight. Might help her feel a little more comfortable around us. She's convinced we're going to toss her into the ocean from the patio."

"What?"

"She's just upset. I can't blame her. She's had to deal with some stuff already, so why should she trust us, right? Anyway, we're hoping sleep will help.

"Yes, I'm sure she could use a good night's sleep. Just don't push her. Take your time gaining her confidence."

"We will," John said but had to ask, "When are you going tell us more about her and why she is so important?"

"In good time. For now, just know she is a priority."

"This have anything to do with Martindale?"

"It does."

"Okay," John said. "So, what's your ETA?"

"I'm still in San Francisco. Had a meeting with Detective Carson just now. I'm on my way, but it'll be a couple of hours, especially in this weather. I hope Janet stays asleep. I'm not ready to meet her quite yet."

"Okay. We'll get to work on your request first thing in the morning. Safe trip. See you in a couple of hours or so."

Craig hung up and noted the time, just after midnight. He started to put his phone away when it rang again. He looked at the ID and accepted the call. "Yes." He listened. "It's going slow, but I think I'm making some headway beyond what we've already discussed. I've got some of my people working on a few angles as well. I'll be in touch but reach out to me anytime if you need to. How about you? Your executive team still okay with me being here?" He listened again. "Understood." He and Reed Wallace hung up, then Craig stared at his phone for a moment before he shoved it into an inside pocket of his overcoat. He glanced at the precinct building one last time then drove out into the damp night.

# CHAPTER 18

Janet tossed and turned then opened her eyes. It was still dark out and windy. She checked the clock on her bedside table – just after two o'clock in the morning. She was worried and wondered what the new day would bring. Although she was in a comfortable bed, in a room of her own, and had been fed a very nice dinner, she was not at all comfortable with the circumstances. Who were Hector and John and how did they know she had been abducted by those other guys? How did they know she needed to be rescued if, in fact, that's what they were doing? _They are not police officers,_ she silently thought, _but it was not coincidental, that is for sure. They knew I had been abducted by the other two men posing as police officers. And what happened to Officer Perez?_ Janet's thoughts tumbled one after another.

Her questions and concerns eventually gave way to sleep again, but dreams came; the same troubling and recurring nightmares she had of a burning building and women screaming. Even so, she fell asleep again.

An hour later, she was wide awake. The wind still tossed trees and shrubs around outside. Some scraped against the house although it seemed to have calmed down a little. She lay still with overpowering feelings of despair at the images that would not leave her alone. Months of counseling with a therapist in southern California had not helped, and out of frustration, she'd stopped seeing him. Maybe her old friend Stacy was right. Maybe she needed to find a new therapist and try again. "Sure, I will," she said quietly. "As soon as all of this other stuff goes away."

Rolling over, Janet kept listening to the weather outside through a partially open window. The window curtains tossed around, and the room was cold. Irritated, she got up to close the window but hesitated at the faint sound of the angry surf as it pounded the beach below the bluff. Even though her bedroom was on the opposite side of the house, the sound unnerved her. She closed the window and made sure it was secure.

Still tired, she started to get back in bed but stopped and listened. She could hear voices. "Haven't those guys gone to bed yet?" she said as she opened her bedroom door slightly to listen. It was Hector and John. "They're crazy," she said and started to close the door but stopped when she heard another man's voice. Curious, she quietly slipped out of her room and stood at a railing at the top of the stairs. Below, a dim light glowed. It was coming from the kitchen. Then she heard the other man mention her name and stiffened, waiting.

"She's fine," she heard Hector say. "A little confused, but that's to be expected."

"You weren't followed?" the other man asked quietly.

Janet strained to listen.

"No," John responded. "We took all the necessary precautions. Once we got close enough to them, we ran them off the road. Unfortunately, they got away on foot. It was pretty much routine otherwise.

"They got away," the man repeated. "I'm not happy about that. Is there any way they could track you down?"

"I don't see how," Hector said. "It was dark. Our plates are bogus. No distinguishing marks on the van other than the slight damage it incurred. We'll take care of that."

"Okay. I just don't want anything to happen to her."

"We understand. She's an asset."

"She's more than that. Just keep her safe."

"Something you're not telling us, boss?" Hector asked.

Janet was now very alert, anxious to hear more.

"Not right now," the man said. "Just keep her safe."

Janet frowned. The voice was unfamiliar.

"I'm staying at a nearby inn tonight," he said. "I'll be heading back to town late tomorrow. I have a few things that still need my attention at Global. Then I plan to –"

Janet had shifted slightly and the floor creaked as a result.

All fell silent.

She hurried back to her room and quietly closed the door before jumping back in bed and pulling up the covers. She rolled onto one side, facing away from the door, took in a deep breath, held it for a split second, let it out slowly to calm down and pretended to be asleep.

She heard someone come up the stairs, hesitate outside her bedroom door, then open it slightly. She knew someone was watching but kept up her ruse hoping it was convincing. It must have worked. The door closed again, but she remained in bed. Out in the hall, a similar creak gave away whoever it was. She detected soft footsteps on the stair treads as someone headed back down. Only then did she let out a sigh and moments later heard a car engine start-up. The sound of gravel crunching and popping under tires was a sure sign someone was leaving. Eventually, all was silent, except for the sound of a calmer wind outside. Janet remained still, but desperately wanted to know who the other man was, and why was he so concerned about her safety? "He mentioned Global." She rolled onto her back. "But he didn't sound familiar." She sat up then wondered. "Is he the new man in charge? What's his name?" She furrowed her brow trying to remember the name she'd heard on the news. No luck. She lay down again and eventually fell asleep.

It was well after eight o'clock in the morning before Janet woke up. She hurried to dress and get downstairs, her mind filled with questions. The dilemma was how she'd get answers without giving away the fact that she overheard the voice of another man a few hours earlier.

The storm had passed. Partially cloudy morning sunlight spilled into the residence. This was her opportunity to scope out her new hiding place a little better. The open floor plan downstairs didn't look much different than the night before, but now in the light of day, it was bright and sunny.

She walked to the windows and French doors leading to the outdoor patio and gazed out at the magnificent expanse of the Pacific Ocean. The view was spectacular, although she could see a thin gray line above the horizon off in the distance. Nearby vegetation rustled in the gentle breeze and white caps danced on the waves here and there beyond the bluff.

John was in the kitchen. Hector sat on the sofa with his feet propped on the coffee table as he turned pages of a sports magazine.

"Sleep well?" John asked as he joined her at the windows.

"I guess so," she replied.

"You guess so?"

"I have nightmares sometimes. I had one last night."

"What kind of nightmares?" Hector asked, moving his magazine to one side to watch her. "Like when you were in the van with us last night? Or maybe when you were eavesdropping?" He looked up and grinned.

"It's a recurring _nightmare_ ," she replied and glared at him. "With burning buildings, women screaming, and guns shooting. That kind of nightmare."

"Sounds wicked," he said.

She nodded. "It is."

"Have you talked to anyone about it?"

She nodded. "Yes, if you must know. My therapist."

"That's good. You see your therapist often?" he asked.

She watched him. "Often enough. Why?"

"Do you have any upcoming appointments? Like if you missed one, would it create a concern?"

"Maybe." It was a lie.

"I really do like you," John said and grinned. He turned away from the window. "Can I get you anything? Coffee?

"No, thank you," Janet replied without looking at him. She didn't want them to get some crazy idea that she was beginning to trust them, because she didn't.

"Hector. Coffee?"

"Sure."

John headed back to the kitchen.

Hector put down his magazine and pulled his feet off the coffee table. He watched Janet. She had resumed staring out the window.

"You can go outside if you want," he said. "Have breakfast out there. We all can."

She turned around and stepped away from the windows. "You haven't eaten yet?"

"We were waiting for you."

"Aren't you worried if I go out there someone might see me?"

"No. Not unless a boat chugs by and someone is using high-powered binoculars looking straight at us."

She didn't respond.

"Are _you_ worried?" Hector asked.

She shrugged. "I guess not. If you're not."

John loaded a tray of food and approached the French doors. Janet opened one and waited for him.

Hector joined her at the door. "You coming?"

"I guess, but I'll need a sweater." She hesitated. "What happened to my bag? All my stuff was in it."

"We probably left it in the van," he said. "I'll go get it later, but in the meantime, wait here." He ran upstairs and soon returned with a pull-over sweatshirt. "It might be a little big on you, but It'll keep you warm."

Janet accepted it with some surprise and put it on. Hector waited until she stepped outside then followed, leaving the door open to air out the house.

John placed the tray, with a variety of breakfast items, on the patio table. Janet settled into a chair with a view of the ocean. She could see an object in the distance. "Is that a ship out there?" She pointed.

Hector followed her gaze. "It is. A cargo ship, more than likely. I'll be right back." He returned with a pair of binoculars and walked to the short wall to take a look. "Yup. Cargo ship. You want to see?" She did, and he handed her the glasses. "Take a look."

Memories of being with Greg Danes at the tiny mountain cabin came quickly, and she gave an involuntary shudder.

"You still cold?" Hector asked.

"Uh, no. Not at all." She held up the glasses to look. "Wow. That's big." She pulled the glasses down for a moment then looked through them again. "How far out is it?"

"At least three miles, maybe more."

"And you don't think they can't do the same thing and see us standing here watching them?"

"I told you she was spunky – and she's smart," John said smearing cream cheese on a bagel.

She looked again. "And that's a fog bank way out there?"

"Clouds. Wrong time of year for fog, but more than likely they will roll in later tonight. Supposed to rain again, so enjoy the sunshine while you can, even if it is a bit chilly out here."

"Another storm?"

He nodded. "Which is good. We can always use the rain in California." He took the binoculars and walked her back to the table.

She was surprised at these two men and their careful handling of her. _So odd_ , she thought, but she still wasn't convinced they weren't kidnappers. Maybe they were being really nice to lull her into a false sense of security. She would remain on guard, she decided.

Breakfast consisted of orange and apple wedges, cold cereal, and bagels with cream cheese. John and Hector drank coffee, but Janet opted for water this time.

"You're quite the gourmet chef," she said to John.

"Yup. Pre-cut fruit from the produce section of a local market, boxed cereal, a bag of bagels, and cream cheese." He laughed. "My specialty."

Janet let loose a tiny smile but still couldn't stop wondering about them. _Definitely_ _not your typical kidnappers_.

Once breakfast was over, she insisted on cleaning up and putting food away, after which she rejoined her new companions on the patio.

Hector took in a deep breath. "I love the smell of the ocean in the morning. There's just something about it that helps clear my mind and gets me in a good mood."

"Were you in a bad mood?" Janet asked.

"What? Me? No. Not really. Well, maybe sometimes. I'm just saying."

"You're both trying very hard to win my confidence. You're trying to throw me off-balance, that's all. Just so you know, I don't trust you. So, it doesn't matter how nice you are to me or how well you feed me. You can be as nice as you like, but I still don't trust you, unless of course – you told me the real reason why we're here."

John and Hector looked at each other. Janet kept her eyes on both of them. She smiled, and they smiled back.

She folded her arms in exasperation. "You guys are so weird. Who are you – really? And who do you work for?" She tested the waters and threw out the first baited line. Would they bite?

"We work for ourselves," John said. "We're free-lance."

"Free-lance. So, you just happened to be out driving last night, saw some random car driving along, immediately determined they were bad the guys and ran them off the road. Then you found me and decided what the heck and scooped me up, just like that."

They both stared at her but didn't answer immediately.

John started to chuckle and offered a tentative grin. "Yeah, okay. That works."

Hector looked at him in exasperation.

Janet rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in resignation.

"Look," Hector said, turning to Janet. "Do we have to keep going over this? We _rescued_ you. It's that simple. End of story. Now can we please move on!"

"But how did you _know_ to rescue me? How did you know where I was and that those two guys were kidnapping me?"

Hector grinned. "Just lucky, I guess."

"Right. Well, see? Why should I trust you? And how long are we going to be here? Are you waiting for someone? Someone you can hand me off to?"

Hector stopped smiling. "I wish we could answer all your questions, but at the moment we don't have any answers. At least not yet."

"Why not?"

"We just don't. We were given an assignment – to take you into protective custody, but that's all we know right now."

Janet was quiet, but her mind was working.

John reached for another bagel, and Hector went to the kitchen to refill his coffee mug.

"Uh-huh." She said and gazed out at the ocean again. "I don't believe either one of you. You're lying to me. Everyone lies to me. I don't trust anyone anymore. No one." She stood up. "I just want to know who you are. If you're both such good guys, why can't you tell me what I want to know? What I _need_ to know?"

John didn't smile. He put his bagel down. "Look. They were phony bad cops taking you someplace you don't want to go. It's that simple, and that's all we can tell you for now because that's all _we_ know.."

"Bad cops." She studied him. "Is Detective Carson a good cop or a bad cop?"

"Good cop."

"Are you both cops?"

Hector was back and let out a sigh as he sat down. "No. We are not cops. Let's just say we do similar work, more or less, and like John said, we work for ourselves. We hire out and help people."

"That doesn't make any sense because I think I overheard one of you, John I think, say something about a boss. If you work for yourselves, why say something about a boss?"

They both exchanged worried glances. John tried to shift the conversation. "She's really good," he said to Hector. "Trying to trip us up." He looked at Janet. "Are you an attorney or something? Because you should be."

"Stop lying to me and stop changing the subject."

"Well then let's just stop with all the questions for now and enjoy the day," Hector said. "It's for certain we're not going to resolve anything right now."

"You're right. We're not, because neither one of you will tell me the truth. And just for the record, I still don't believe you. I think this is all a game and that you both are being really nice to me to gain my trust so you can manipulate me. You want to use me as bait or whatever. Maybe to catch someone else, except I cannot imagine who. Or maybe your plan is to turn me over to the _real_ bad guys for money, like a ransom or something."

Hector held up a hand. "Okay hold on. You're beginning to get on my nerves, and you're getting way too dramatic."

Janet stood up. "You see? Here it comes. But, no! You hold on! Tell me who infiltrated Global late one night and shot Ray leaving him to bleed all over the place. Maybe it was one or both of you! Yeah! That's what I think. But if you think I saw you or anyone else, I didn't. It was too dark. All the lights were off. I couldn't see anything, and I was scared to death. I just heard people talking that's all! Someone went to a lot of trouble that night. They were probably already there just waiting for me to show up when I came back from dinner. Dinner with friends, by the way. People I _can_ trust!

"But something went wrong, and I got pulled into this whole ugly mess anyway. That's all I know. So, you can either continue to be really, really nice to me or start your torture treatments. But whatever you do, _I. Can't. Tell. You. Anything!_ " She fought back tears then abruptly ran into the house.

Both men sat quietly as they watched her disappear inside. "I really do like her," John said. "She's smart. Definitely has a mind of her own but is still troubled by the Cold Creek incident and still having nightmares. But I don't think she remembers us from that night when we flew her and her friends out of that field in the helicopter."

"Yeah," Hector said. "I don't think so either, and why would she? It was pretty devastating. Catastrophic. Really bad fire. A couple of women died that night, right?"

"Yeah," John said.

Hector nodded. "Yeah well, she's still traumatized by all of it."

"Do you think it would help if we reminded her that we helped her before?"

Hector shook his head. "Not unless Craig says we can. He's a lot closer to this – whatever this is."

Both men gazed at the house.

"I am worried about her, though," Hector said. "I wish there was more we could tell her." He was thoughtful for a moment. "She's defiant. Stubborn. It's become one of her coping mechanisms. But I agree with you. She is smart."

John nodded. "We need to talk to the boss about this. He needs to reconsider meeting her. It might help."

"I know," Hector said and sipped his lukewarm coffee. He pulled out his phone and sent a text.

John watched.

"Craig needs to get back here before he heads back to The City," Hector said, as he sent the message.

# CHAPTER 19

Detective Carson absently held his mug of cold coffee gazing out his office window. A dreary Friday morning. Gray sky, a few low clouds moving in from the west. A few weeks ago, this was the day he planned to work until noon, or so, then head home to get ready for his planned Thanksgiving vacation with his wife and family. That all changed four days ago following two shootings and bomb threat at Global. Too much in less than a week. Too much.

"Damn," he mumbled. He took a sip of his coffee and made a face. Setting the mug down, he walked to a file cabinet. Fingering through some mangled and dog-eared files, he pulled one out and took it to his desk. Talmont tapped at his open door at the same time and peeked in.

Carson waved him in. "Got any good news to share?" he asked and looked up. "I hope."

Detective Talmont pulled up a chair and sat down. "Not sure if I'd call it good news," he said. Just that the preliminary report regarding evidence found in Perez' car says they've determined that someone else may have also been tied up in the trunk. They're checking fibers and skin samples, and what may be blood. They should have more for you soon."

"Someone else? Who?"

"Don't know."

"Who's working in the lab today? Dashell?"

"Johnson."

"Okay. He's thorough." Carson leaned back in his chair. "I wish the bad guys would give us a break and take a holiday once in a while." He looked out the window. "A second body. But why take it and not Perez'. Skin and blood, huh? This case just keeps getting more and more complicated." He closed the file on his desk and looked at Talmont. "I'm thinking I shouldn't go to Monterey for Thanksgiving. I already talked to my wife this morning."

Talmont disagreed. "With all due respect, sir you need to take a break," he said. "You need to spend time with your wife and family – Shelly, in particular. She needs to see you once in a while. I'll keep close tabs on everything and keep you posted. I promise, but until we get a break, there's not much either of us can do. We have officers running down every possible lead, but without anything substantial, we're grasping at straws."

"I know," Carson said. "You're probably right." He nodded. "Okay, but you have to promise me you'll let me know the minute you get anything. You got that? Anything."

"I already said I would," Talmont said. He started to get up then settled back down on the chair.

"What is it?" Carson asked.

"Well, I'm concerned about the safe house situation getting compromised. I'm beginning to feel like –"

Carson held up a hand to stop him. "I need some coffee; something better than what we have around here. Let's take a ride. I need to get out of here for a while."

Carson signed out a squad car then he and Talmont headed out. A drive-thru fast food restaurant provided the coffee and soon they pulled into a parking space along Marina Green Drive. Both gazed out at the shipping lanes that traversed the Bay waters beneath the Golden Gate Bridge and on out into open waters of the Pacific Ocean.

"It's interesting, isn't it that we live and work in this city and yet I think most of us take it all for granted. It's so familiar to us." He gestured toward the Bay. "And yet, all kinds of people come here from all over the world every day just to look at something we can see whenever we want and practically for free."

"Yeah," Talmont said.

Carson shifted his gaze. "You started to say something back at the precinct. What was it?"

"Oh. About the safe house that wasn't so safe."

"Yeah," Carson said. "But up until now, our safehouses _have_ been safe. No problems."

"That's what I mean. So, who else knew? Who else besides you, me, and Emily Perez knew we were going to take Janet there?"

Carson nodded thoughtfully. "I know, and then Perez ends up murdered. What do you think? To keep her quiet?"

"I wondered the same thing," Talmont said and let out a sigh. "I asked to see some security footage of the high-rise parking garage about the time Emily should have driven out with Janet in her personal car. We spotted the car. Emily was driving and Janet was with her, still in disguise." Talmont leaned back and folded his arms. "Unless it was Emily."

Carson played with his paper napkin. "You think? Because if not her, then I think we have a mole in the office. Which is why I didn't want to discuss any of this there."

"You suspect me, do you?" Talmont suddenly asked in surprise.

"Oh, heck no. I don't suspect you. Why would you think that? Right now, you're the only one I _can_ trust." He eyed Talmont. "I need to know I can trust you; otherwise, I've got no one."

"You can trust me, Brian."

Carson acknowledged with a nod and put down the napkin. "Okay, then you and I need to conduct a separate investigation of our own and off-book. Because until we know what's going on, both inside our ranks and outside, I do not think we can trust anyone else."

"Copy that," Talmont said. "So, what's next?"

"We need to examine all the evidence ourselves and come up with a plan. We'll need copies of everything."

"I can take care of that," Talmont said.

"Yeah but if I'm out for Thanksgiving, that's time getting away from us."

They both sat thinking.

"If only we had one other person we could trust," Talmont said.

"Yeah one other person," Carson agreed. He sat quietly for a moment. "Get me those copies and make a set for yourself. In fact, make three copies. I have an idea."

The detectives returned to the precinct with a measure of hope. Talmont got busy making copies while Carson read through several Global files Craig Stevens provided. They were contracts Janet had helped with. Some had already been executed and others were in various stages of completion. With little exception, most were with companies outside of the United States, and in particular Asia and Central and South America.

He had a smaller copy machine in his office and began making two sets of each contract. If Janet was beginning to suspect some of them were suspicious, he wanted to take a closer look at them himself. Maybe he could discover what she thought she was seeing.

By noon, both men were back in Carson's office. They quietly exchanged thick envelopes and sat back but said nothing about the contents.

Finally, Carson stood up. "Well, I gotta go. I promised Shelly I'd come home early and help her start getting things ready for our trip."

"I'll walk out with you," Talmont said.

Carson shoved his two envelopes in a briefcase. Both men walked out to his car.

"Now the real work begins," Carson said, putting his briefcase in the back seat. "Not that all the other evidence isn't important, because it is, but I think this whole thing is going to boil down to some well-hidden items. We just have to look carefully."

Talmont agreed. "Yes, and we need to think like they would think. For instance, how could you conceal something illegal in a legal document?"

"Exactly."

"So, you think she's going to be okay with your idea?"

"Who Shelly? I don't know, but I do have an idea of how to pitch it to her. Besides, given her background and expertise, she's perfect for the job."

"Well, good luck."

"Thanks. I'm gonna need it," Carson said, then glanced at the building. He thought he saw someone at a window for a moment, watching.

"I think we're being watched," he said and slapped Talmont on the shoulder letting out a laugh.

Talmont took his cue and laughed as well, then made a couple of gestures indicating they were having a good laugh about something.

Carson smiled. "Okay, my friend. I'm outta here. Feel free to use my office if you want, and stay in touch."

"I think I'll spend a little more time at home this coming week. It'll be easier to look things over without interruptions or wandering eyes," he said.

"Good idea," Carson replied. He climbed into his car and Talmont headed back to the building.

The breeze had picked up, and more clouds were stirring overhead. In spite of the ongoing and pervasive crime that would not let up, both men still loved their City.

Back inside, Talmont organized his items and got ready to leave. He'd continue working from home. Being single, he had no other constraints for the next few days – just him and his cat, Whiskers. He'd already agreed to spend Thanksgiving with neighbors, but other than that, he could concentrate on the case and stay in touch with Carson. Right now, they both wanted to right a wrong and to help a young woman in whatever way they could. But in order to do that, they needed to find her. She was out there somewhere, and for some reason, he didn't think she was dead – just missing for now.

Coat in hand, he started for his door but stopped when someone tapped. The door opened a crack. Officer Lydia Wheaton poked her head in. "Carson gone?"

"Yes. Thanksgiving with family. He needs it."

"I'm sure he could use the break," she said. "So, you got a minute?"

"Sure. Come in," he said and set his things down. "Have a seat. You want some coffee or something?"

"No. I'll just take a minute. Besides, it looks like you're getting ready to head out too."

"That I am. So, what's up?" he asked then noticed a bandage on her hand. "What happened to you?"

She looked at him sheepishly. "You ever have one of those days when you feel like the biggest klutz on the planet?"

"Daily."

She laughed. "Well, today was one of those days for me." Without any other explanation, she changed the subject. "Hey, I was just wondering how Janet's doing."

Talmont smiled but had to think fast. "Good." He deliberately chose not to elaborate.

"I'm glad," she said. "I'm just worried about her."

"Yeah? Why? She's safe, and we're still looking into things." He shuffled a few papers on his desk. "Anything else?"

"No. That was it." Wheaton started for the door but stopped. "Well, actually, there is one more thing."

"What's that?"

"I'd really like to be of more help on this investigation."

Talmont studied her. "You have been helpful."

"I know, but I mean in a more direct way."

"Direct. Like how?"

"Well, when I was there – during her initial interview, she and I seemed to form a connection.

"A connection."

"Yes. You know, we bonded. I think she trusted me. And I just thought that maybe I could be a little more directly involved with her protection."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'll run that past Detective Carson the next time I speak to him. And thanks."

"Okay. Good." She hesitated. "Well, if I don't see you again, have a really nice Thanksgiving."

"I plan to. You too." He waited for her to leave then reflected on her remarks. _Bonded, huh? Interesting_ , he thought to himself but wondered about the conversation. _Only a few people were aware that Janet was missing. They were doing their best to keep that under wraps, but how interesting that she would offer to help with Janet's protection, especially now_. He thought for a moment. _Unless someone wants to know where she really is now_.

Talmont finished gathering up his things and his two envelopes. He had just stepped outside the building, then stopped abruptly and hung back. He could see Officer Wheaton standing next to her squad car parked at the curb across the street. She was talking to someone. It was a man he did not recognize. Instinctively, Talmont grabbed his phone and started taking a video of them. He captured her gesturing emphatically, obviously upset. The man was equally upset then grabbed her arm. She jerked it out of his grip but they kept arguing. Eventually, the man walked away, looking one last time over his shoulder at Officer Wheaton. She waited a moment, watching him, then got into her squad car and drove away.

Talmont stopped the video and stayed out of sight until she disappeared down the street. He waited a moment longer then approached his car but kept his eyes open for the man. Seeing no one, he climbed in and belted up. "Carson will definitely want to know about this little incident," he said then drove away.

It was late Friday evening. Carson called Talmont to talk and run an idea past him. "You mentioned something about Officer Perez and whether or not she could have tipped someone off about where Janet was going to be held."

"Yes," Talmont said.

"You think she might have been coerced into cooperating with someone to abduct Janet?"

"Interesting you should ask that," Talmont said. "In fact, I was going to share something I dug up this evening from home. I found out her mother is sick and needs some special medical attention. Expensive. And evidently, her insurance won't cover most of it. Might be reason enough to do some little side job for extra cash."

"Yeah, unfortunately, because now she's dead," Carson said.

"I know. And more than likely she wasn't going to get paid for doing someone a favor anyway, plus dead people don't talk."

"I know," Carson said. "I think you've discovered one piece of this puzzle, but I'm still not convinced she acted alone. I mean, how would anyone know about her mother's condition other than if Emily told them."

"Good thought. And if she did tell anyone, it would probably be someone at work."

"Right, so that brings us back around to the possibility that we still have a mole, or someone, at work, who's got a little side action going. And if that's the case, I wonder how many other cases have been compromised because of it. It's all speculation, of course, but it would help explain a few things."

"I agree," Talmont said. "And that leads to one other thing I wanted to share with you. Just after you left earlier today, Officer Lydia Wheaton stopped by my office. She was looking for you."

"What did she want?

"To be a more direct participant in the protection of Janet. She claims she and Janet bonded during their initial encounter."

"Bonded."

"Yeah. And there's a couple of other things. First, she was sporting a bandaged hand. Claimed it was due to clumsiness. The other thing was something I observed in the parking lot as I was getting ready to leave."

"Which was?"

"A minor confrontation she had with some man I didn't recognize. They were standing next to her squad car parked across the street. I got some video."

"Good man!" Carson said. "Is there any way you can send it to me?"

"You bet. Check your phone in a few minutes."

"Okay. Now it feels like we may be getting somewhere. About that bandaged hand, you think it's significant?"

"I think we may want to match the blood samples in Perez's patrol car to Wheaton's DNA."

Carson nodded. "I agree. In fact, we may want to cross-check DNA samples from everyone at the precinct. I don't want to leave any stone unturned in this case."

"Understood." Talmont paused. "So, did you make your pitch to Shelly yet?"

"Not yet. I'll do that tonight, I think. I'll take her out to dinner or something. We'll see. I really think she could be of help to us. It's her background. Her area of expertise and I can't think of anyone else I can trust to help with this than her."

"I agree," Talmont said. "Best of luck. Now get some rest."

# CHAPTER 20

Janet was beside herself with frustration. She lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling, angry. Tears came. She stubbornly fought them back then eventually dozed off. A couple of hours later she awoke but lay still, now staring at her closed door. She was hungry and looked at the bedside clock. Almost noon. She forced herself to get up and go downstairs. Both French doors stood slightly ajar. A breeze wafted in, with a slight chill, and beyond she caught a glimpse of Hector seated at the patio table then also heard another man's voice. It wasn't John. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs to watch and listen.

John was sitting on the short stone wall facing the house but didn't notice her. He was talking to Hector then got up. "Anyone want anything? I'm getting some coffee." He stepped inside then saw her. "Hey, there sleepyhead. Have a nice nap?"

She glared at him.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier." He shifted from one foot to the other. "I only asked because I came up to check on you and tell you we were getting lunch ready, but you were asleep and snoring.

"I do not snore!"

"Mmm-hmm. Tell that to the man you end up marrying. Anyway, I'm getting some coffee. You want anything?"

"Maybe."

"Okay. There's an extra sandwich in the refrigerator. I'll grab it, and you can come on out and join us. You may want to get a sweater, though, it's getting chilly." He got his coffee and a plate with the sandwich and waited until she returned with sweatshirt Hector had loaned to her.

"Hey, look who I found," he announced when they stepped out to the patio.

Hector and the other man turned to look. Both stood up. Hector offered a seat to Janet. The other man faced her and smiled.

She remained standing and couldn't help but stare. He was a very handsome man, with nice features and slightly graying hair neatly trimmed. He was dressed in nice but casual clothes and carried himself with a sense of confidence.

He stepped around the table and over to her then held out his hand. "I'm Craig Stevens. It's very nice to meet you at last." He couldn't stop looking at her – intently. "Have they been treating you well?"

"Y-Yes. They have except they won't explain why I'm here and not at a police safe house instead. Can you explain that?"

He smiled at her boldness. "Have a seat so we can talk?"

She nodded.

Hector and John immediately got up and left.

"Wait!" she said and whipped around. "You don't have to leave."

John gave a little wave. "That's okay. He won't bite. We'll be back in a few minutes."

She took a step in their direction. "No! Get back here!" She watched them go inside, leaving the French doors open. She slowly turned around and focused on Craig but eyed him suspiciously before she sat down. "You were here last night, weren't you?"

"I knew it!" John called out from inside. "You _were_ awake!"

"Get back in here," Hector said and yanked John inside before he closed the doors.

Craig smiled. "Yes. I was here for a short while, to make sure you were okay."

She studied him. "Do I know you, and why do you care about me? Have we met before? Are you a Global client?" She studied him more closely then suddenly knew, and stiffened. "No. You're the one in charge now."

"That's right."

"Is it true the office is going to close?"

"Not sure yet."

"Why are you so interested in me?"

He lowered his eyes. "You were there when something happened. Something tragic."

"You mean Ray. Is he dead?"

He looked up. "We don't know. His body hasn't been found so we suspect it's possible he's still alive, just out of sight."

"Are you as concerned for everyone else at Global as you are for me?"

"I care about everyone, but you are the one in apparent danger." He was direct but watched her.

She shifted sideways in her chair to stare out at the ocean. She could see the clouds were closer and hunched her shoulders at the chilly breeze and rubbed her arms.

"We can go inside if you're cold."

"No, I'm fine." She stood up and walked to the edge of the patio and stared out at the sea, leaving her untouched sandwich on the table. "So, I'm in danger which explains why those two other phony cops took me. Is that correct?" She faced him. "They weren't very nice. Rough-handled me. It was frightening."

"I know. I'm sorry they treated you so poorly."

"Well, your two men kept me tied up too." She gestured toward the house.

"They told me. I'm sorry about that as well."

Janet came back to the table and sat down. She stared at the sandwich then took a bite and looked at the house. "How long do I have to stay here?"

"I don't know, but you need to for now. And you need to trust us. John and Hector, even me." He kept his eyes glued to her. "Just know we really do need to protect you. We want to protect you."

"Because of what happened at Global," she replied.

"Yes, for the most part."

She eyed him curiously. "For the most part. What does that mean? Is there some other reason?"

He reached for her hand, but she withdrew.

He folded his hands and nodded. "Janet, we need to keep you safe because I made a promise to someone that we would."

"Who?"

He shook his head. "No more questions." He stood up. "I need to get going. Just do what they ask, and you should be fine and safe. It really was good meeting you."

"Wait!" She was on her feet. "That's it? Who are you? Really?"

"Just trust these guys. Please. You have to, and you need to trust me as well. There's no one else you can trust, whether you believe me or not."

"Well, I don't believe you."

He hesitated a moment. "I have to go."

"But –"

Inside, John was watching with great interest, anxiously waiting to talk to Craig. He pulled open one of the doors. "So? Is she going to be okay?" he asked as soon as Craig stepped inside. "About us, I mean?"

"I don't know." Craig looked out at the patio. Janet was standing at the stone wall, staring out to sea. "Take care of her. Go easy. I think it's going to take some work gaining her trust."

"We understand," Hector said. "We'll take care of her. But can you fill us in as to why she is so important to you? I mean beyond this Global thing, because there is something more, right?"

Craig picked up his coat and headed for the door. "I have to get back to town. Call if you need anything."

"What we need is to know what's going on. Can't you at least tell us?"

Craig reached the door and was soon gone.

"I guess that's a big fat no," John said.

Hector hurried after Craig and stopped him in the inner patio. "Come on, man. Who is she to you?"

"All in due time, my friend."

"Okay, so there is something else, but in the meantime, there is one more thing. John and I would like to train her."

"Train her."

"Yeah. What I mean is, we doubt she's ever going to work at Global again. We're pretty sure the place is going to close. Too many secrets, uncertainties, questionable activities, right? So, Headquarters isn't going to keep the place open. They'll gather up everything, send all the staff packing with token severance packages, and a ticket out of town. You know it too."

"And your point is?"

"Craig." He paused. "Look, we, me and John that is, would like to give her some training so she can help protect herself. She's smart. Really smart. And feisty. She can hold her own with us but with a healthy measure of distrust, and –"

"If I understand what I think you're driving at, the answer is absolutely not!" Craig raised his voice. "I don't want her to have anything to do with the business we're in. It isn't safe, and I want her to be safe. For the rest of her life."

Hector reacted. "No. Not that. You misunderstand. We're not talking about the business, hell no."

"Well, then, what are you talking about?" Craig asked.

"Self-defense training. I mean, heck, after what she'd been through? That Cold Creek thing and now this stuff involving Global. If you're so determined to keep her safe, then she should know how to defend herself, at the very least," he said. "That is if you really do care for her and her safety." The remark was intended as a jab.

Craig bristled. "Just do what I ask. Take care of her." He opened the heavy gate leading to the driveway and stopped but didn't turn around. "I'll think about it." He closed the gate.

"Fine," Hector called out over the fence. "Safe trip back."

John was waiting for him at the front door. "What did he say?"

"He thought I was talking about training her for the business. Anyway, he said he'll think about self-defense training."

"He really thought we were going to prep her to come into the business? He's on edge. I mean we hardly know her. We'd have to thoroughly vet her, which includes her emotional and mental state of mind." He made a face. "We just want her to know how to take care of herself. I mean, it's not like we're always going to be around to protect her. Him either, for that matter."

Hector set his jaw. "I know. He looked out to the patio where Janet was now seated at the table. "I wish she could remember us. It might help put her mind at ease."

John nodded. "I know, but I've been thinking about that. And like you pointed out, that whole Quail Club situation – with the gun fighting and that fire – it was traumatic. Finding her friend was a good thing, but when she found out all the stuff her friend had been through, in addition to what Danes put her through to protect her, I'd say she has a serious case of PTSD."

"Yeah," Hector said. "I hope when this is all over – whenever that might be, that she'll get some treatment for it. And perhaps that's why she doesn't remember us. It's a part of what's happened to her, and she's blocked it out."

"Except she's still having nightmares," John said.

Janet quickly stepped inside, along with a cold gust of wind. "It's getting cold out there," she said and rubbed her arms.

"Come on over to the fire," Hector said. "It'll help warm you up."

"Thanks." She stood in front of the flickering flames to warm her hands and arms. "I hope your boss makes it safely back to wherever he's going." She waited for a reaction to the word 'boss'. There was none other than John agreeing with her as he checked and secured the French doors. "So do we."

"Who exactly is Craig Stevens?" she asked calmly, her back to them.

Both men exchanged glances.

"He didn't tell you?" Hector asked.

"No. Just his name. I mean I realize he's the one sent in to take over Global. I saw him on the news my first night at the safe house – before Officer Perez said we had to leave." She frowned. "Which wasn't so safe, evidently. Anyway, it took me a moment before I remembered seeing him. He tried to hold my hand a little while ago and kept insisting I should trust both of you _and_ him. And he kept staring at me. I didn't like that. It was a little creepy."

John and Hector weren't sure how to respond.

She turned to them. "Well, will one of you – or can you – tell me who he is, besides his name, if that is his real name. Is he a top Global executive?"

Both looked a little uncomfortable fumbling for words but ended up saying nothing.

Janet pretended she didn't notice. "What does he do when he's not swooping in to save the day, like in San Francisco? And why do you guys call him boss? _Is_ he your boss? And who do you work for? Global? Or some other company, or are you really freelance guns-for-hire or something? What? Just tell me something."

Hector stared then let out a nervous laugh. "You sure do ask a lot of questions. First of all, we are not guns-for-hire." He grinned, trying to soften the moment.

"Sometimes we are," John said.

Hector shot him a warning glance. He looked back at Janet. "Ignore him," he said and smiled again. "You know, I like that about you."

"What?"

"All your questions. They're good questions."

"Really," she responded. "And the good answers would be?" She waited for a response.

"How about some ice cream?" John quickly asked. "I found it this morning. It was buried under a package of frozen peas."

Janet didn't look at him but kept her eyes on Hector. "I don't want ice cream. I want answers. Honest answers."

"Let's eat some ice cream anyway and talk. Okay? Talk?" John attempted to redirect the conversation.

Janet folded her arms and stared at them both. "You guys are so incorrigible."

"Incorrigible," John said and grinned. "I like that. We've been promoted from being weird to incorrigible." He headed for the freezer. "I'm gonna have ice cream."

"Not promoted," she replied. "Just another descriptor."

Hector grinned.

"What?" she asked.

"You. You're starting to like us a little bit, aren't you?" he said.

"Don't count on it."

"I knew it," John called out from the kitchen. "You like us."

A little over two hours later, Craig arrived home to a place he was renting in a quiet area of Presidio Heights. It was a little past noon, and he was exhausted from his hasty trip to Monterey and back. A light rain had begun to move in so he was grateful to finally get inside to dry off and warm up. Changing into more comfortable clothing he went to his study. The room was very masculine. Mahogany paneled walls. Heavy taupe-colored drapes at the windows. Two comfortable high-back leather chairs angled toward a raised gas fireplace and a large mahogany desk with a custom-made leather task chair.

He got a fire going then sat at the desk and turned on his computer. He mindlessly stared at the screen as it booted up, thinking about his meeting with Janet. _So beautiful,_ he thought.

He spent the next few hours checking email accounts and responded to a few messages before logging onto a highly secure website. Once logged in, he began an in-depth search of some items and people of interest. After gathering some sensitive information, and grabbing a few screenshots, he saved everything to a thumb drive and secured it in his briefcase.

By four o'clock, he was getting ready to shut everything down when he got an email alert. He noted the sender and opened the brief message. "Just as I thought," he said.

He immediately dialed a number, and Peter Bradshaw answered. A short conversation ensued. He instructed Peter to pull together a reliable team of Global staff with a keen eye for detail, to work on a special project. It was critical to the investigation, and to tell the selected staff it was highly confidential. They should not discuss the meeting with anyone, before or afterward.

"Be sure everyone is in the Global office tomorrow morning by ten o'clock. I'll be there to explain what they will be doing. Oh, and let them know they will get double overtime."

Peter immediately agreed and said he'd start making some phone calls.

Craig shut down his computer, turned off the gas fireplace, and turned off the light in the study. He went to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat and sat thinking about his meeting with Janet again. Half an hour later, he was in a hot shower hoping the water and steam would relax his tense muscles and calm his racing mind. Though still early, he was exhausted and climbed into bed. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day, and he'd need to get some rest before an early start the next morning. He'd get to the office by seven to get things organized before the others showed up.

As he stretched out, he re-visited his time at the bluff house once more and smiled. "Janet Feldman. We meet at last."

# CHAPTER 21

It was just before ten o'clock Sunday morning. The office of GHD Global Securities and Investigation was in a flurry of activity. Peter managed to contact nearly a dozen qualified staff to come in at Craig's request, including Alex and Tony. The small group gathered in the conference room to wait for Craig. A level of anxiety mixed with anticipation filled the room. At exactly ten o'clock, Craig entered. He stood at the head of the table and placed a box on it before addressing his assembled staff.

"In light of recent events, and the difficulty the police have faced attempting to collect evidence to help with their investigation, I decided to offer what assistance we can. As such and considering the very real possibility that some activities in this office were less than professional or legal, I decided it was time to bring a group of you together to help with a search of our own."

He looked in the box and withdrew a file. "Each of you will be given a stack of files similar to this one. All are client files pertaining to cases Global had taken on during the past three years. Each file includes all aspects of each case, including assessments, on-sight evaluations, finances, and contracts, whether fully executed or not – in other words, anything and everything regarding Global's participation."

He paused to collect his thoughts before continuing. "There is an urgency to this task. We need to check every detail of every report with a fine-toothed comb," he explained. "I want to know what Ray Martindale has been up to and in addition to the files alone, look for names of people he contacted. Try to determine how many times he may have had to travel domestically and internationally. If _anything_ seems amiss, I don't care how insignificant it might seem to you, bring it to me." He looked over the assembled staff. "Understood?" Heads nodded. "Any questions?" Faces were blank. Finally, one hand went up – slowly.

"Yes, Tony."

"Why three years back? I'm only curious because Ray was here for a much shorter time than that."

"That's a very good question," Craig said. "I want to establish a pattern of activity leading up to the point in time that Ray started working out of this office. That might help us pinpoint any aberrant behaviors or inconsistent activity."

"Okay. That makes sense. Thanks." Tony glanced at Alex who was obviously impressed with the question.

"Anyone else?" Craig waited a moment. "Okay. If you _do_ have questions at any time, talk to Peter. He's been briefed. If you need to see me specifically, Peter will accompany you. I don't want any presumption that we are attempting to manipulate or alter any information regarding any case we've handled. Peter will be my witness to that. He looked into the eyes of everyone one more time.

Hazel suddenly let loose a loud sneeze. "I'm so sorry," she said quickly.

Craig watched her for a moment, then checked his watch and dismissed everyone. "Alright. Let's get started."

Tony pulled Alex aside. "Wow. So, they really think Ray was up to something."

"Doesn't surprise me," Alex replied. "He always had a kind of sneaky sense about him. I just figured he was super paranoid. But who knows?"

"Yeah," Tony said. "And if we do find something –"

"Report it to Peter, just like the boss said," Alex replied. "Don't hesitate. I have no particular loyalty to Martindale. He's screwed us all over plenty of times."

"That's for sure," Tony agreed.

As budget analysts, he and Alex were each given a stack of files to examine regarding anything financial that might seem unusual or suspicious.

"You know," Alex said. "He was pretty good at what he did, and if he was up to something, he would have disguised it as something else. Up to now, I'm not sure I would have caught anything, to be honest, unless I was really looking for something like we are right now."

"Yeah," Tony agreed, "Now that we are looking for things unusual or out of the ordinary, whatever they may be, we just might see something." Tony pulled a file off the top of his stack. "This will be interesting."

About an hour into their task, Alex's desk phone rang. It was their supervisor, Edna Harper. He listened then said, "Okay" and stood up.

Tony looked up. "Where are you going?"

"We," he said. "You and me. Edna's office. Right now."

"Now, what did we do?" Tony got up fully expecting to get a lecture and another assignment based on one of her silly notions.

They stepped into her office, and she told Alex to close the door. "Sit down, boys."

They both did, but with some reluctance, not knowing what she wanted from them this time.

"I have a job for you two."

"Another job," Alex said. "We came into today at Craig's insistence to look over Ray's files not to do other little odd jobs for you."

"I know, but –" she paused and gave them a look.

"But what?" Tony asked. "Is it more important than what Craig wants us to do?"

"Yes. It's important, or I wouldn't ask you."

He exhaled and shook his head. "Okay. What kind of job?" He exchanged glances with Alex.

"It's a highly sensitive assignment, and that means you are _not_ to talk about it to anyone. Do you understand?"

They both nodded but were thinking the same thing. This would likely be another attempt by Edna to sabotage Craig.

"Good," she said. "All of this investigation into Ray's work is just a smokescreen."

"Ma'am?" Alex was almost amused.

"Ray hasn't done anything wrong. He's being set up, and I think I know who's behind it."

"Who?" he asked, but already knew what she was going to say.

"Stevens, of course. Who else?"

Alex and Tony looked at each other.

Tony suppressed a smile. "Craig Stevens."

"What did I just say! Of course, Craig Stevens! Let me tell you a little more about the man." She opened a red folder on her desk. "This is the _short_ biography. To really know more about him, you'd need top government security clearance."

That got their attention.

"That's right," Edna said, pleased at their surprised expressions. With a bit of dramatic flair, she cleared her throat and began to read. "He was born and raised in upstate New York. He graduated from Georgetown School of Law and worked for one of the top-rated law firms in New York City. After that, he accepted a position in Washington D.C. working as an undersecretary of State for the Gerald Ford administration. He didn't mention that, did he?"

Both shook their heads.

"After that, he served as an Ambassador to two different nations over a period of ten years – smaller nations, but nevertheless, he was an Ambassador – twice, but it's where he served as an Ambassador that's most interesting. Central America and Africa.

He was married once, briefly, but has no children; at least that anyone is aware of. Since working for Global, he's headed up several significant committees, none the least of which was an oversight committee investigating criminal activity in Central and South America, to begin with. He eventually investigated similar activity in Europe while serving as the head of Global's London office."

"What about Asia?" Alex asked. "He mentioned Asia the day he got here."

"This biography doesn't say anything about Asia, but since he did mention it, and it's not in this report, that seems suspicious to me." She slapped the report down on her desk and crossed her arms. "So. What do you think of Mr. Wonderful now?"

Both Tony and Alex stared at her.

"How did you get a hold of that information?" Alex finally asked.

"That doesn't matter," she said.

"Well quite frankly I'm impressed with the guy and how does any of that prove he's out to get Ray?"

"Don't you see? He's had dealings with other countries where criminal activity seems to be rampant."

"Like here?" Alex said. "It's the job, Edna, and there's plenty of that in the United States too, you know."

"That's not important. What is important is the _kind_ of criminal activity he was investigating."

"Which was?"

"Drugs! Human trafficking!" Edna poked her finger on the file for emphasis.

Alex and Tony looked at each other again both stifling laughs.

"I – still don't get it," Tony said. "What about drugs and human trafficking? Again, that happens here too. So, what's that got to do with any of this?"

"Ray warned me. He said Stevens was going to pin that stuff on him. It's all an effort to discredit Ray to build up Stevens' reputation and credibility!"

They were immediately on their guard.

"Whoa, hold on," Alex said. "When did Ray tell you that? About Stevens, that is? Craig didn't show up here until after Ray went missing."

Edna realized her gaffe and attempted to recover. "Just trust me."

"You're not making any sense, Edna, and what does all that have to do with anything?" Alex folded his arms as well.

Tony jumped in. "Edna. We get what you're trying to say, so why don't you just tell us what you want us to do?"

Alex looked at his friend in amazement.

Edna allowed a slight smile to crease her face for a brief moment.

Tony shrugged. "Well I think we should at least find out what she wants," Tony said. "Instead of arguing. Okay?"

"Fine," Alex said and looked at Edna. "Okay, what do you want?"

"I want you both to spy on him."

Alex nearly choked. "Oh, come on! Not again. You already asked us to _follow_ him, which we did and got caught! This isn't a new job, it's still the same thing. Follow. Spy. It makes no difference how you put it, it's the same thing, and we can't do it!" Alex was exasperated. "At least I'm not going to do it. Look. He's too good at his job. He will catch us just like before. Only this time he won't be so forgiving."

Tony agreed. "That much is true."

She glared at Tony. "I thought you were on my side."

"W-What? I'm not on anybody's side. I just –"

"Enough!"

"Edna," Alex said, attempting to calm down. "You just read this incredible biography of a man who's had years-worth of experience in government and investigative work, and you seriously expect a couple of budget analysts to spy on the guy without him finding out? Think about it."

"I just wanted some help clearing Ray's good name."

"Good name. Well, it feels like you're setting _us_ up. I'm not doing this."

"Yeah," Tony said and folded his arms. "On second thought me neither."

"Watch it. Both of you. I can still fire you."

"Go ahead. Fire me," Alex said. "Because you probably will anyway, after all of this is over. You want someone to spy on him? _You_ do it!"

"Listen to me! Stevens is responsible for Ray's disappearance, and now he's trying to cover his own tracks by _pretending_ that Ray was up to no good. Well, I don't believe it. Not for one moment. I've worked alongside Ray ever since he came here and I can tell you that he was as upfront and transparent as any man could be. Stevens is the one up to no good."

"Seriously, Edna? You hated the fact that they brought Ray in instead of promoting you. You've stomped around here with a big chip on your shoulder ever since then. And now you're ticked off that Stevens was sent in to oversee this office, _instead of you_. I think you're more upset they didn't ask you to take charge of this office than anything else. I think you were envious of Ray and now you're envious of Craig."

"How dare you –"

Tony started waving his hands around. "Stop. Stop. Stop." He looked at Alex, then Edna. "Just stop."

Edna was furious and glared at Tony. "So much for solidarity."

"Solidarity!" Alex replied. "What are you talking about? I think you've gone off the deep end, Edna." He was on his feet and started for the door.

Edna rushed around her desk to confront him. "Where have you both _been_? Look at what's _happening_! I'm telling you that Stevens is the one we need to watch, not Ray. He's the one that's up to no good and I expect you both to do what I'm asking or you can find other employment."

Alex threw up both hands. "You know what. Go ahead. Do whatever you want. Fire us, but Craig will want to know why and I don't think he's going to be okay with some lame reason you might come up with. I think it will raise a lot of questions about _your_ motives and then he'll start to investigate you."

Alex walked out. Tony was on his heels.

Edna returned to her desk and collapsed into her chair, astonishment at Alex's boldness.

Alex and Tony both sat down at their desks then reacted with a start when Edna's door slammed shut. They stared at her closed door then looked around. Everyone was looking at them. Craig stepped out of his office and spoke to someone nearby then looked across the room at them as well.

"Great," Tony said.

"What?"

"Craig's coming over."

Alex looked over his shoulder then back at Tony.

"What do we say?" Tony asked.

"Nothing. I'll do the talking. Just work on your files."

Craig walked up behind Alex and stopped then with his hands resting on Alex's shoulders, he lightly tapped his fingers a couple of times. "Everything okay over here?"

Tony stiffened as did Alex.

Alex nodded. "Yes, sir. Everything's fine."

"You sure?"

Alex sat stiffly. "I'm sure."

"Alex," Craig said. "Look at me."

Alex turned half-way in his chair and looked up. He gave a slight nod and blinked.

Craig studied his face then slowly nodded. "Okay. If you need anything, let me know."

"I will."

Craig patted Alex's shoulders, glanced at Edna's door, which was closed, then went back to his office.

Alex sat back and let out a heavy sigh. "He knows I was lying."

Tony watched Craig return to his office. "That was creepy. I wish he hadn't done that."

"He's just sending a message."

"Yeah, well I got it, loud and clear. It's like he can read our minds. At least he didn't keep asking questions."

"I know, but now I feel guilty that I lied." Alex stood up. "I'm going to go talk to him."

"Wait. What if she's right?"

"Who? Edna? She isn't. She's obsessed with wanting that office. That chair." Alex pointed dramatically. "That's all she wants. First, Ray was in her way. Now Craig is. It doesn't matter who sits in that chair. If it isn't her, whoever it is, becomes her enemy – the bad guy." Alex stepped away from his desk. "I'll be right back."

"No, wait." Tony stood up. "Don't stir the pot. Give her a chance to settle down, and maybe things will work out so we don't have to go grovel at Craig's feet. _He_ could just as easily fire us, you know."

Alex stopped and turned around. "For what reason?"

"Lying to him, for starters."

"All the more reason to go talk to him. Edna is all talk and no walk. She doesn't go anywhere. She doesn't mix in with the rest of us. She won't attend any company parties, like at Christmas. She doesn't even seem to have a personal life outside of work. I'm tired of being afraid of her. But Stevens? Now there's a man to fear. Stay on his good side, and everything's fine. Tick him off –" Alex just shook his head. "I'm going to go talk to him. Clear the air and show him he can trust me."

Edna's door suddenly opened. She hesitated before taking a circuitous route to the front desk to avoid them.

Alex watched her. "You know, if I were going to spy on someone, it'd be her." He gestured in her direction

Tony laughed. "And what do you think you'd find?"

"I have no idea." He let out a laugh. "And the more I think about it I'm not particularly interested in finding out."

He headed to Craig's office. The door was open. Alex gave a quiet tap.

Craig motioned him in just as Tony appeared as well. Craig stood up and shook their hands. "Have a seat, boys. Tony, please close the door."

Craig gestured for them to sit then waited.

Alex shifted uncomfortably and forced a grin. "Okay. So back there, a-at my desk, I, uh, well I kinda lied."

"I know."

Alex reacted and felt his face flush. He nodded. "Right. So, I guess –" He looked at Tony whose eyes were wide and worried-looking.

"It's about Edna," Craig said.

His straight forward remark startled Alex. "Well, yes. It is."

"Okay. What do you need to tell me?"

Alex spent the next five minutes sharing some of what Edna said to them, mostly regarding Craig's more detailed biography."

Craig nodded but studied them closely. "Is that it?"

They looked at each other, debating whether or not to tell him she wanted them to spy on him.

Craig sat back. "I am aware that she is very unhappy that I'm here. I know that she has contacted headquarters on numerous occasions complaining about the management here; long before I showed up. But within my first week, she wrote to the company's CEO and insisted that she was much more qualified to oversee this office in Ray's absence than I am."

Both Alex and Tony expressed surprise.

Craig smiled but said nothing.

"Seriously," Alex said, "Wow, she certainly has an overly inflated assessment of her abilities."

"Yes, and evidently she wrote similar letters complaining about Stan Demarcus and Ray." Craig grinned and settled back into his chair. "I can handle Edna. Headquarters makes note of all her complaints and files them away," he said.

"You know, the sole purpose of opening this field office was to solicit for and manage clients and accounts on the Pacific rim. Headquarters wanted to increase business in Asia and Central and South America. To handle that, they decided that having an office more conveniently located to this part of the world would be advantages and chose San Francisco as the location. Edna does not have any experience or knowledge of that part of the world and how to conduct business with our clientele in this part of the world. She may be the budget manager for the office but her skills are even marginal in that respect. I'm not altogether sure why she was selected for the position, to begin with."

Craig stopped a moment to examine a note he'd written and gave a slight nod then glanced up. "It appears that both Ray and Marcus have handled the majority of the hiring of staff for this office. It also appears there has been a rather significant turnover as well. A lot of short-timers." He looked at both men as if expecting an explanation from them.

Alex and Tony exchanged glances before Tony spoke. "Well, they both interviewed and hired me and Alex, but we're not planning to leave any time soon."

Craig nodded. "That's good to know, and, Tony, I believe you've been here a few months longer than Alex, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"During your employment here, have you noticed any changes or activities that have seemed unusual or out of the ordinary?"

"N-No. Not necessarily. I mean Ray is hot-headed and can get difficult, but then he's pretty much always been like that." Tony glanced at Alex. "At least I think so."

Alex agreed. "Yeah. "No one can ever please him. Not really. He's very offensive and blows up at the slightest thing. He's was like that with Janet most of the time, but she learned how to handle him pretty well. She did a great job of not letting him get under her skin, you know? He had a hard time rattling her. She would calmly ask what he needed and then do it."

Craig seemed impressed. "An exceptional woman, I'd say. Good character trait."

Alex fidgeted. "Yes, and, well I started to wonder about some of the things going on here. I mean, for instance, all those contracts Janet was trying to juggle and a lot of them not getting done. It frustrated her. Ray just kept bouncing from one project to another."

"Was there anything else you wondered about? Regarding budgets, perhaps?" Craig asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Alex replied but furrowed his brow. "Mostly, he just seemed so sneaky, I guess. Secretive. And it was getting worse. A lot of staff were talking about him and how his mood had gotten worse, but no one knew why."

Craig smiled and nodded. "Headquarters was beginning to have similar impressions about Ray, and as such he's been on their radar for quite a while."

"Is that why you're here?" Tony asked, finding his voice again.

Craig smiled but said nothing immediately. In the short time he had been in the office, everyone learned he generally smiled when he chose not to answer a question directly and he was definitely smiling. But he did respond this time. "After Ray disappeared, I was brought in here to handle things until Headquarters could find a permanent replacement for Ray. Just days before the incident, the CEO had already decided to terminate him."

"Really!" Alex was surprised.

"Really." Craig drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Is there anything else either of you need or want to tell me?" he asked them.

Alex mustered up some courage. "Perhaps, but we'd like to think about it first."

"Fair enough." He shook their hands. "And be sure to let me know if you find anything in any of those files you're examining."

Tony and Alex returned to their desks.

"I kinda feel like we got scolded," Tony said. "Sorta."

Alex gave him a weary smile. "Yeah."

They spent the better part of the next hour delving into their stacks of files until Tony closed a file and leaned back in his chair. He stood up and stretched. "I need coffee or something." He headed to the break room. Alex watched until he disappeared then pulled a slip of paper from his pocket – one that Craig slipped to him when they shook hands. He read the message and put it back, glanced at the time, then over his shoulder just in time to see Craig leave his office, carrying his coat and briefcase."

He looked for Tony who was still in the break room chatting with Chet from Human Resources. Alex scribbled a note to Tony and put it on his desk. He then put on his coat and headed for the elevators telling Hazel he needed some fresh air and was going to take a short walk.

Once in the lobby, he looked around and caught a glimpse of Craig through one of the immense front windows. He was standing on the street corner, waiting for the light to turn green. Alex pulled the note from his pocket again, then shoved it back and hurried outside just as Craig and several other pedestrians crossed Market Street. He approached the corner just as the light changed and stopped to wait, keeping an eye on Craig. Rather than wait for the next green light, he decided instead to head up his side of the street and opposite Craig.

Craig took his time, stopping a couple of times to glanced at storefront windows. He finally stopped at a door between two businesses and opened it, then stepped inside.

Alex decided to investigate a small shop on the pretense of looking for Christmas gifts. He stayed close to the front window so he could watch the door across the street and the people coming and going in general. Ten minutes later, Craig came out and stopped for a moment holding his phone. Alex waited and watched; aware Craig was on a call.

Craig nodded his head a couple of times and responded to whomever he was talking to then hung up. He stepped to the curb, looked in both directions, then quickly crossed the street. Alex waited then stepped out of the shop and fell into step a short distance behind, casually glancing around at the same time.

Craig headed away from the office building and up another block. Alex picked up his pace but soon lost sight of Craig. Frustrated, he stopped, exhaled heavily then looked at a store window and its festive holiday decorations. He decided to purchase a couple of items and went inside.

Moments later, someone stepped up next to him. "Nice."

Alex didn't look up. "I lost you again."

"I know. See anything?"

"Not at first."

"Okay."

"Two men seemed interested in where you were going, though."

"I thought so."

"You lose them?"

"I think so."

"Now what?"

"Keep your eyes open. I'm headed back. Wait until I walk out then follow me to the office."

Alex nodded, then took his selections to the counter to pay for them. Minutes later, he headed out. Twice, he stopped to admire window decorations before entering the high-rise. Soon he was on the twenty-first floor and stepped into the Global office suite.

Tony was on pins and needles by the time Alex sat down. "So? Where'd he go?"

"You want to see what I bought?"

Tony stared. "What you bought? I thought you –"

Alex motioned for him to lower his voice. "Yeah. Look." Alex opened the shopping bag to show Tony a lovely scarf and gloves.

"Yes. Very nice, but what about –"

"I need some coffee." Alex headed for the break room. Tony was right behind him.

Once out of view of the rest of the office, Alex pulled a mug from a shelf. "Okay. I know it was crazy after all that discussion with Edna and then talking to Craig, but for some reason, I decided to see where he was going. You were talking to Chet, but it was probably best that I went by myself."

"And?"

"He walked over to Market Street then up a block to a door that leads to upper offices over street-level businesses, you know?"

"Okay. So?"

"He opened the door and went in. I don't know. It just seemed weird, that's all. Then ten minutes later he came back out, was on his phone talking to someone, then he walked farther up the street, and I came back here."

Tony leaned against the counter. "Huh. That does sound kinda odd, I guess." He looked at his friend. "What kind of businesses are up there behind that door? And why would he go up to one of them?"

"I don't know. It's just one of those access doors to the upstairs. I decided not to go look this time, but maybe tomorrow I might."

"Scared, huh."

"Not scared. Let's just say I was being cautious."

They went back to their desks and sat down. Alex opened one of his files and started thumbing through the pages. "What if this whole place is involved in illegal stuff?" he asked and looked around. "And we've been naively involved as well?"

Tony peered up from his file. "You mean, you think _everyone_ here might be involved in something illegal?"

"Maybe not everyone, or at least not knowingly but if Ray was up to something, surely he had others here who were working with him. Right? Otherwise, how could he have gotten away with anything, if in fact, he _was_ doing something wrong?"

"Yeah. I see what you mean," Tony said. "But what about Edna. Do you think she –?

"I don't know," Alex replied. "She's so squirrely and paranoid most of the time. She'd almost be a dead giveaway if something was amiss. Almost too obvious."

"Maybe that's her game plan," Tony said. "Look so suspicious, but in a weird way, that no one would take her seriously."

Alex chuckled. "Maybe."

"And what about Peter and Marcus? And Craig? You really think Craig's here to investigate Ray?"

"Most likely."

Tony's eyes got big. "You don't think that maybe Craig took him out, do you? Ray, that is. You think Ray's dead?"

"It's crossed my mind, and I'm sure the minds of a lot of people here, especially with all the police coming and going. Plus, they did find blood."

"That's true. They did. But nobody's told us whose blood it was yet."

Alex closed his file and sat back. "I don't know what to believe. Finding another job is beginning to sound pretty good right now." He seemed to be staring off into space.

"You okay?" Tony asked.

"Oh, I was just wondering about Janet. I wish we knew where she was and if she's safe."

"Yeah, I've been wondering about her too. So, she's at a safe house somewhere?"

"That's what I heard," Alex said. "I just hope it really is safe."

# CHAPTER 22

Janet woke early Monday morning. The rain had stopped although the wind still blew in gusts. She dressed and went downstairs then stood at the back windows of the bluff house. The morning was gray for the most part but with a few fluffier clouds skittering overhead. The patio was drenched and the waters of the Pacific Ocean beyond were still choppy. In spite of her current situation, she admired the day as it looked like the clouds were beginning to break up a little and allow some sunlight to filter through. She opened one of the French doors slightly to listen and could hear the waves crashing on the beach below, but cold air rushed in forcing her to close the door.

"Good morning, Janet," Hector said.

Startled, she spun around.

"Didn't mean to scare you. I was just poking around in the refrigerator looking for something to eat." He closed the door with a couple of items in his hands and put them on the counter. "Sleep well?"

She nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Are you hungry?"

She continued to stare.

"I'm having cold cereal but I can fix you something hot or –"

"Cold cereal is fine."

Hector put everything on a tray but watched her. "You sure you're doing okay?"

"Hmm?"

He smiled and took the tray to the dining table. "Just wondered how you're doing this morning, especially if you were able to sleep."

"I'm fine."

They sat down and filled their bowls. Hector casually continued to watch Janet as she ate while she kept her head down, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

"You sure?" he asked.

Janet looked up. "Hmm?"

"You're okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine," she said but seemed irritated.

He sat back. "Look, I understand that this is all very difficult for you, being here with us, but it is necessary to protect you."

She stopped eating. "Stop saying that. About protecting me. And I'd still like to know who Craig Stevens is."

"Your new boss. At Global." He resumed eating.

"No, really. Who is he and why is he so concerned about me? Is he just as concerned about everyone else at Global?"

"You were a witness. You could be targeted. That's why you are here. No one else in your office was there – that we are aware of, anyway."

Janet reacted. "You think someone else might have been there?"

"We have no idea, but we can't rule it out either. There was no surveillance footage."

Her eyes widened. "Surveillance cameras. There are several in the suite."

"We know. But we didn't see anything."

"You looked?"

"I did. And there was nothing."

"Which means –"

"Which means someone messed around with the cameras. Craig asked the security office in the building to look into it, along with the police."

"I don't remember hearing anything about that on the news."

"They've kept it quiet hoping someone will tip their hand, so to speak."

"Tip their hand. Yes." Janet pushed her bowl away. "Did Global hire you and John to be my bodyguards?"

He didn't answer.

"Well?"

"Not exactly. Does it matter?"

"It matters to me. If they didn't hire you, how did you know about me and any concerns they might have about my safety?"

"Craig asked us to help."

Janet furrowed her brow and cocked her head slightly. "Craig again."

"Yes."

"But you're not Global employees."

"No."

She stared at her half-eaten bowl of cereal.

"But you can trust us," he said.

"Easy for you to say. Not so easy for me to believe. In fact, the more you say it, the less I trust you."

He pushed his empty bowl away. "Well then, I guess we're at an impasse for now. I have no idea how I can prove to you that we are on your side. We are here to protect you at all costs. That's the truth. That's the bottom line. Whether you decide to trust us or not is your call."

"At all costs?"

"Yes." He got up. "You finished?" he asked and pointed at her bowl.

She nodded.

He took their dishes to the kitchen and put them in the sink to rinse.

Janet watched him, but her mind worked to put together all these little pieces of information she was slowly accumulating and try to make some sense of it. "Why not let the police guard me?" she finally asked. "That's their job."

Hector walked over to her. "They were guarding you and look how that turned out. Ordinarily, yes, it is their job, but evidently, there's a mole in Detective Carson's office. Your location – that safe house – was compromised. Those two fake cops weren't trying to protect you; certainly not by tying you up and putting a bag over your head. We had to intervene to save your life. Now you can either continue to distrust us or give us a break. As for who Craig Stevens is, he's the new head of Global, and until this whole mess is straightened up, he's in charge. So, when you asked about whether or not he's our boss, then yes, and yours too." He headed for the stairs. "Now I'm gonna get John to take his shift so I can get some sleep."

Janet frowned. "His shift?"

"Yeah. He'll be down in a few minutes."

Janet watched him disappear up the stairs then slumped back down onto her chair. "Trust them? Give them a break? I'm the one who needs a break. I need answers." She fumed. "I wish Alex and Tony were here."

It wasn't long before John hurried downstairs and greeted Janet with a big grin. "Good morning, Sunshine. How'd you do last night? Did the rain keep you up?"

Janet was surprised at his cheerful demeanor, fully expecting him to pick up where Hector left off.

"I'm good, thank you. I slept, and I like to listen to the rain at night."

"That's good," John said as he grabbed a box of cold cereal and a bowl and spoon. "Mind if I join you?"

She shook her head but watched him closely.

"Hector and I flipped a coin. He pulled the overnight duty." He grinned then shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

"Standing guard?"

"Yes, ma'am," he managed to say, wiping his mouth.

Janet continued to watch him.

He looked up. "You just gonna sit there and stare at me?" he asked. "It's kinda creepy."

She blinked and looked down. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." His eyes softened. "Hey, we don't know much more than you do other than we're here to keep you company." He took another bite of cereal.

"Mmm-hmm." Janet drew in a deep breath. "Okay, so, I've been thinking about everything. And – if I did start to trust you and Hector – and maybe Craig," she began quietly.

John stopped eating; his eyebrows raised.

Her eyes pooled. "Please don't disappoint me and turn out to be bad guys, please?" Tears fell. She'd lost the battle. Her emotions were topped out. She had nothing left to fight back with.

"Janet. We aren't the bad guys." He stood up and walked around the table and knelt down next to her chair. "We honestly want to take care of you and make sure you are safe. We really do."

Her breathing was choppy as she struggled to hold onto her emotions. She nodded. "Okay, because I really do need to trust someone."

They could hear Hector hurrying back downstairs. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs for a moment to stare. "You're not proposing to her, are you?"

John stood up. "Be serious."

Hector laughed then held up his phone. "Did you see this message from Craig?"

John patted himself down. "No. I must have left my phone upstairs."

"He's on his way back. Should be here in about an hour."

"So soon? Well, that's good, or is it?"

Hector shrugged then noticed Janet's face. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He looked at John. "Okay. Did you say something to upset her?

"Me! I didn't say anything. Maybe you did before we changed shifts."

Hector glared. "Why do you always think the worst of me?"

"I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't," John said. "I'm just trying to eat here and keep our guest company."

"Like I wasn't all night? And what's with you getting down on one knee, huh?"

Janet put up a hand. "Guys. I'm okay. And Hector, John was just talking to me, that's all."

Hector stood with his hands on his hips. "You're sure you're okay, and I didn't say or do anything to upset you."

"Yes, I'm sure, and no, you didn't."

He looked at John. "You see? No foul here."

"Yeah, well you'd better go take a nap. Once the boss gets here, no telling what he'll want us to do."

As promised, Craig did arrive but much later than expected. He let himself in, shaking the rain from his overcoat. "That next storm has moved in," he said. "The wind is picking up too."

He hung his coat on a hook at the front door and sat a briefcase on the floor then joined Janet and John in the living area enjoying a warm fire. "Good morning, Janet." He smiled, then glanced at his watch. "Okay, good, still morning."

She lowered a book she was reading. "Good morning," she replied and managed to return the smile, but with little success.

Craig looked at John curiously noting Janet's red and swollen eyes.

"She's fine," John said. "Had a good night's sleep for a change, but she is worried about what's going on and whether or not she can trust us yet."

Janet returned to her book and said nothing.

Craig watched her a moment longer then looked around. "Where's Hector?"

"Taking a nap," John said. "He had the night watch."

Craig nodded. "Then we won't wake him just yet." He smiled at Janet again. "I'm glad you were able to get some sleep." He sat in a comfortable chair across from her but near the fire to warm up. "So, Janet, I've been thinking about some things since our visit on Saturday night. I'm still not prepared to disclose everything we are aware of, but I do want to fill you in on what's happening at work."

She closed the book and looked at him with a guarded measure of hope.

He nodded. "I expect you've seen news reports about the several Global incidents, not just the incident you experienced, but the sniper shooting and the bomb threat. And since Ray is missing, I was asked to step in for a while and oversee the office. I understand you would have been my assistant if things hadn't played out as they did."

She nodded. "Yes."

"What I want to share with you is what has been happening since you've been gone. I've asked some of the staff to examine Ray's contracts one-by-one and they've found some significant discrepancies and evidence of obvious tampering and forgery."

Janet frowned then let out a slight gasp. "You don't think that I –"

"No. No, not at all. I don't think you were involved in any wrongdoing. Needless to say, Edna suddenly quit her job just this morning, but apparently not until after secretly meeting with Ray a couple of days ago."

"Secretly meeting with him?" Her eyes widened. "With Ray? He's alive?"

"Evidently. At least that's what she alluded to. In any event, it was on the heels of that presumed meeting with Ray that she announced she would be leaving Global immediately, which she did and with a grand exit, no less."

"Grand." Janet couldn't help but let loose a grin. "I can only imagine."

"Yes. But that's all over and done with. Unfortunately, she has become another one of Ray's victims."

Janet's mouth gaped open. "Victim. You mean – she's dead?"

"Not yet, at least I don't think so, but Ray did some things to implicate her in his schemes to make her the fall guy, or gal, in this instance. He even implicated Peter, but mostly Edna."

Janet's mind was spinning. "So, Ray forged documents implicating Edna and Peter in something illegal." She was introspective and in deep thought.

"Exactly." He waited for Janet to take it all in. "So, here's what I need from you. What, if anything, do you know about his business dealings? Who has he been in touch with the most? Anyone internationally, for instance?"

Janet sat back and ran her hands through her hair. "I never really knew that much about his business affairs other than the typical contracts we'd put together for security and surveillance work." She stopped and thought a moment. "Although, there were four or five I helped with that we handled a little differently, but I didn't have a whole lot to do with them. He insisted on handling them almost entirely himself."

"Differently. How?"

"Just that some of the protocols were waived so he could push them through more quickly."

"Who waived the protocols? Ray, or Headquarters?"

"Both, I think," she replied.

"Do you remember anything about the companies?" Craig asked. "Who they were? Where they were located?"

"They were all internationally located. Two of them were in South America. At least one was in Asia, or maybe it was two, and I think there was one more –" she paused and furrowed her brow. "I think it was in Eastern Europe. If I could look through the files, I could probably find them." She stared at Craig.

"When you say protocols were handled differently –"

She nodded. "Typically, with most other contracts, once we were contacted by a company, we'd begin with written correspondence, either encrypted emails or certified letters. If letters, Ray would either scratch something out or dictate what he wanted to say and I'd type it up. After that, the process was procedurally the same. We'd prepare a contract, a scope of work outlining details of the client's needs and expectations, and what we'd do to meet those expectations. There was always a contact person I'd stay in touch with over the course of the contract process. I'd send copies of our documents to the legal office in Virginia to review before anything could be finalized and executed."

She let out a sigh then continued. "But with those five contracts, he pretty much handled it all himself. I figured that they must have been of a very sensitive nature and highly confidential; something I was not cleared to be aware of. About the only thing I'd do once they were completed was mail everything to the concerned parties. But they were always sealed so I couldn't have looked at them if I'd wanted to. He told me it was typical of the company to handle certain types of client contracts in this manner. I believed him. There was no reason for me to not believe him."

"Were you curious about those particular contracts?" Craig asked.

"Of course, but that wouldn't have mattered. If I had asked about them, he would have yelled at me and told me it was none of my business, in his usual charming way."

Craig nodded with a slight smile then asked, "Did you have a key to his office?"

"No, but I guess Hazel did, right? Taped under her desk for some reason. I think I remember being told that a policeman found it after everything had happened. They were going to break down Ray's office door, but the officer found the key, and that's how they got in to look around."

Craig nodded again. "Did you know about the safe in his office?"

"No. Not until that morning." She frowned again. "But someone had gotten into it. And if not Ray, then who?"

"We're working on that." Craig focused on the crackling fire. "So those five contracts were handled differently. Do you remember any others handled in that same way?"

Janet paused, then shook her head. "Right now, all I know to tell you is Ray said some of the international agreements had to follow a different set of procedures due to financial exchanges. I remember seeing a note on his desk once. He had scribbled something that looked like – oh, it was some kind of a market, but for financial dealings."

Craig nodded. "Yes, there are several types of markets, having to do with the flow of money and investing," Craig said. "Markets such as Capital Markets that include stocks and bonds, or Money Market funds which might include certificates of deposit or Treasury bills. These types of financial instruments are highly liquid with very short maturities, but with significantly lower returns. Or there is also the Interbank Market. It's the largest market, the most liquid market, open online twenty-four hours a day and includes every currency in the world."

"Wait," Janet said and straightened up. "What did you call that one again?"

"Interbank Market," he replied. "Does that sound familiar?"

"I think so. Yes."

Craig sat back. "Interesting." He looked at his companions then back at Janet. "How were these types of accounts or contracts documented?"

"I was told they had to be logged on a different spreadsheet because they were that type of a market account."

"Who entered them on that spreadsheet?"

"He did. Ray. He said it was a little complicated and because there were only a few of them, he'd take care of it himself."

Craig grew thoughtful then exhaled heavily. "You have been very helpful, Janet. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He had one more question. "Once it was logged and executed, did you file it for him or –?"

She shook her head. "No. As I said, he kept those in his office and separate from all the other client files." She looked worried. "Am I in trouble?"

"No. Why would you be?"

"I just did what he told me. I'm not an accountant or budget analyst so that stuff didn't make much sense to me most of the time, although I was becoming more and more familiar with the general contract process. Other than that, I was more than happy to let Ray handle those few, to be honest."

Craig grinned. "I don't blame you. Okay. So, I have a list of the contracts we flagged, and I'd like you to look over the list and let me know if anything jumps out at you."

"Okay."

Craig got up to retrieve his briefcase. He opened it on the dining room table and withdrew a sheet of paper and brought it to her. She began to scan the list, then paused. Craig handed her a pen so she could make checkmarks. When finished, she'd identified the names of five companies with a question mark next to one other.

Craig picked up the paper and nodded. "Good. This is good." He set the paper down, then took one of her hands and enclosed it in both of his. She didn't pull back this time. "Janet. First of all, we had to get you away from those two men posing as policemen the other night. They were under orders to take you. We are aware that Ray has at least two people in the police department working for him. You were being abducted to be taken someplace not safe the other night and held for some purpose only he would know. But I can assure you, it was not going to be in your best interest. And more than likely your companion, what was her name?"

"Officer Perez."

"Yes, Officer Emily Perez. Well, she's –" He hesitated and lowered his eyes.

"She's what?" Janet worried then sobered. "She's dead, isn't she."

He looked up. "I'm afraid so. I'm very sorry. Unfortunately, these people cannot afford any witnesses. Officer Perez was a witness, and so are you, which is another reason we need to keep you as safe as possible. And we appreciate your help. You are a valuable asset to us, even if in a small way, in addition to the fact that we do care about you and your safety."

"An asset." Janet repeated the word. She remembered overhearing Hector's remark the night before about her being an asset and let out a sigh. "Asset makes it sounds like I'm more of an object than a person."

"How about valuable?" Craig asked. "You are valuable to us as a person, not an object. The term asset covers a lot of ground. In this case, your value has more to do with who you are than what you can offer us."

She cocked her head and stared. "Wait, what? Who I am?"

"Yes. A human being, not an object." He returned the list of clients to his briefcase. "Will you work with us?" His question was spontaneous and direct.

Janet was confused by his question. "What do you mean, work with you? I already work for you. Technically, I'm your assistant now that Ray is gone and you've taken over at Global."

Craig smiled. "I suppose that is true. I just want to know if you'd like to continue to work with us."

"Us. You mean you and these guys?" She looked at John and toward the stairs, pointing. "Doing what? I just told you all I know. What more can I do for you sitting here in this house rather than being at the office?" She looked at John then back at Craig.

He nodded. "Good question."

Janet frowned. "Who are you? All of you? I mean, really? Why were you asked to take over at Global instead of Peter or Marcus – or even Edna?"

"Because I'm not a familiar face to any of the staff there and I've not been compromised. Prior to coming to San Francisco, I was working in London."

"Okay, but why is that important; being an unfamiliar face, that is?"

"It rocks the boat, puts people on their guard, on edge a little, and sometimes it can force someone to tip their hand. Reveal themselves."

"Reveal themselves. So, you believe that not only the police department has corrupt officers working for Ray but maybe there's Global staff working for him too – on the side?"

"That's it exactly."

She frowned. "Okay, so, when you say work with you, and if you're in charge at Global, I'm not sure I understand what you mean. How can I help you from here?"

Craig sat back to think about her question then proceeded. "Everything at Global is changing, Janet. The office has been compromised. And as such, headquarters has decided to close it. There has not been an official announced yet, and no one else there knows so please keep this to yourself for now. The problem is that there are simply too many unanswered questions about operations coming out of this office. Please believe me when I tell you that the information you were just able to provide confirms some of our suspicions."

Janet was stunned at his announcement about the office. "Closing," she said, "but if the office closes, what about the staff? What about –"

Craig still had her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

She reacted but did not pull away, surprised at his gentle touch – almost like he was trying to comfort her.

He continued. "There are some openings in Global offices in other parts of the country and a few overseas. Our staff will be given priority on positions they may qualify for. Otherwise, they will have to seek employment elsewhere. I know it's not ideal, especially at this time of year but –"

Janet pulled away. "Closing."

"Yes. We've found too many discrepancies in several client files, and it's going to take time to straighten things out. Plus, we don't know how many other Global employees are involved, and not just here in San Francisco. We're convinced some are because there's no way Ray could have successfully pulled off some of his illegal deals without inside help, but who they are – well, we don't have much to go on at the moment."

"Inside help."

"Yes. Most likely from budgets, procurement, and even human resources. We just don't know for sure."

Janet studied Craig's face. "Budgets. That's where Alex and Tony work."

"We don't suspect them."

"That's good. So, what you're saying is Ray would have had to pay staff to look the other way or entice them to become directly involved in his activity."

"Yes." He waited a moment then asked again. "So, in light of all of this, would you be interested in helping us? Working with us?"

"But as I said, I already work for you."

He smiled. "I'm not asking that you work for us as a Global employee – but as part of our team. The compensation would be generous, and your duties may include some of what you've already been doing, but there will be other tasks. I need your help, Janet. We need you to be our Girl Friday. John and Hector feel we can trust you. Plus, you are losing your job at Global, so I'm offering you one with us."

Janet sat back. "But you work for Global," she replied, still processing the news that Global was closing.

"As a contractor. I've worked with them before. They wanted to send someone to San Francisco who was not one of their employees. There have been grave concerns within the executive office that perhaps some of their other offices may also have been compromised." He paused long enough to think over his next statement. "Janet, there is a real concern that Ray's reach is much broader than just this office."

Janet reiterated his statement. "You're not a Global employee, but an independent contractor."

"That is correct."

Janet looked away then stood up. She gazed at the large windows and the rain pelting them. Concerns started to rise. _How do I know he's telling the truth? How can I be sure I'm not being used by him and John and Hector for some purpose of their own that may not be in my best interest?_

"I-I don't know," she finally replied. "I'll have to think about it." She faced Craig. "Who else is on this team of yours?"

"Well, Hector and John to start with, and a few others. All fully vetted. Each one a person I can trust."

She maintained a steady gaze at him. " _You_ can trust. So, you're in charge of this team. You are the boss, right?"

He didn't answer.

"Okay, but how can I know if I can trust all of you? How can I know you and your team here, aren't trying to use me just like Ray did?" She waited.

Craig still didn't respond, but she could tell he was thinking about a response.

She continued. "I don't know what I want to do. I don't want to rush into any decision without carefully thinking it over first."

"Fair enough," he finally said. "And I don't want you to feel we are trying to force you to join us, but I hope you will."

Janet let out a laugh and gestured aimlessly. "And I suppose I should be flattered by your offer, but you don't know that much about me. About my life."

"Actually, I do," he said. "Your mother is Anna Feldman. Your grandmother was Gertrude Feldman, but she is deceased, and you have an older sister, Mary. You grew up in Wisconsin, graduated from high school there, worked a few odd jobs with favorable recommendations from those employers, by the way. You moved to Southern California at the age of twenty to follow your dream, whatever that may have been at the time, and a year later set out on an odyssey to rescue your best friend, Sally, who had been abducted from a party you both attended in Bel Air.

"You spent a week in the Cold Creek area with Greg Danes, which included being held in a cave. _He_ was trying to protect you. But you managed to escape with the help of three young men who came to your rescue, Jake Hanley, Seth Cullins, and Tom Richards, or Tommy, as his friends called him. Jake's uncle, Pete Hanley, owned a filling station and convenience store. Jake has since taken over ownership, but his Uncle Pete still helps out. Seth and his mother, Claire Cullins, have moved from the area. Claire, by the way, had been part of the Quail Club staff, so to speak. A member of my team approached her and asked if she'd be an informant for us. She agreed, reluctantly, but was able to provide a great deal of valuable information to us. Tommy and his family have also left the area.

"The night of your rescue from the Quail Club, a helicopter flew you and your friends away to safety. They plucked you all from a field. The pilot of that chopper was John," he said, "and Hector helped cart Sheriff Wilcox away." He grinned. "That is after Seth and Tommy managed to tackle him and restrain him with their belts. The sheriff was trying to get away from the raid on the Club and literally ran into them. Oh, and I believe Shadow was there that night as well. Greg said that you and Shadow hit if off from the day you both met. He wanted me to let you know, he would have never ordered Shadow to attack you." He stopped.

Janet stared, in near disbelief, her mouth gaped open.

"I _do_ know about you, Janet. All that and more. We have vetted you just like we have everyone else on this team. And as important as all of that is, what's important to me right now is to encourage you to choose to join us so we can continue protecting you in a more congenial way. I do not want you to think we are holding you prisoner, but the fact is, you are still in danger. It's that simple and that serious. You were a witness to a crime involving Ray Martindale. He doesn't like to leave loose ends dangling. You are now a loose end. A liability to him and he will continue to look for you." He paused a moment to let it sink in then continued.

"Ray's network is much broader than my team's reach. I will put that out there. We are at a disadvantage in many respects, but not completely. Our team is tight, loyal, and committed to the work we accept. And right now, we are committed to doing all we can to destroy Ray and as many others in his organization as we possibly can. If we can put a significant dent in his operations, it will slow its activity – hopefully enough to allow other law enforcement agencies, across the globe, to get the upper hand."

He stood up to face Janet. "We are able to do things, such as infiltrate, subdue, and even deal with criminal elements in ways other agencies cannot."

Janet's eyes widened. "You mean you kill people, don't you?"

He didn't respond.

She looked at John who had been quiet. "You really are guns for hire. You even said so."

He started to say something.

She cut him off. "Don't you dare try to sugarcoat or twist your words to make it sound not so bad. Just admit it. Tell me the truth."

John glanced at Craig then back at her and nodded. "Yes. We are guns for hire, _but_ that's not all we do. We were not hired to kill you if that's what you're driving at. We are trying to protect you, but you have to meet us halfway. The problem is –" he hesitated.

"Is what?" she demanded.

"Well, hell, we like you! We are not supposed to get involved with clients, but with all our attempts to convince you to trust us, we've grown rather fond of you – and all your questions and stuff, that is not a line. It's the truth, for what it's worth." He sat down and stared at the rain-drenched windows. "And if that's a crime, so be it, but we like you and want to make sure nothing bad happens to you." He looked at her. "And I especially like your spunk."

She shot him a look of disgust. "Spunk."

"Yeah. You've got a kind of spunky side to you that I like. We both do, me and Hector, so yeah, we like you." He grinned.

Janet immediately folded her arms, forcing herself not to smile.

"Janet," Craig said. "If you don't want to stay with us, and work with us, we will help you relocate somewhere we think you will be safe – just not around here and likely not in California or Wisconsin. We'll help you change your identity – get you all the legal documentation you will need to start over somewhere else. We will coach you about what you can and cannot say to people. It will be imperative that you not disclose, _ever_ , anything that has been a part of your life up until this moment. You will be advised not to contact your mother or sister or anyone else you've ever known. Absolutely no one."

She frowned. "A new identity?"

"Yes. It's the only way to protect you."

She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes. "Protect me." She looked at him. "Now you're scaring me."

"Good. You should be scared." He did not smile, and his once tender expression changed.

She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. "So, if I agree to join your so-called team, will I still need a new identity?"

"For now, no. It wouldn't work."

"Wouldn't work."

"No. Not right now."

She stared at the crackling fire for a moment. "I think I'd like to go to my room. I need to be alone. I need to think about all of this."

Craig reached for her again. "I understand. And yes, you do need to think it over, but even if you decide not to join with us in a more permanent way, you still have to stay here for now. It really is the safest place for you and you've got two of the best guys right here to protect you."

Janet looked at John then noticed Hector coming downstairs. He walked past her and stood next to John, who stood up. They both grinned, and John winked.

"You guys are so – so infuriating!" She stared out the large windows. The rain had eased up enough that she could see the wind-whipped shrubs along the short patio wall. "And you all believe I'm in a lot of danger."

"Yes," Craig said. "We know you are."

"Because I was there when Ray was shot."

"Yes, in part, and it is likely that someone may be concerned that you saw more than has been reported, plus, you did see your abductors the other night."

"Why would they have let me see their faces?"

"Because –"

She threw up a hand. "Because they never intended to let me go. They were going to kill me."

Craig nodded. "That or turn you over to Ray and let him take off with you – on a cargo ship."

"Cargo ship!" She stared wide-eyed. "Wait. Human trafficking? Is that what this is all about?"

"That and drugs, for the most part."

She looked at Hector and John then back at Craig, her thoughts racing. "So, if I have to stay here for an extended period of time, how can I possibly be of any help to you?"

"You'll work from here. The types of assignments you'll be given will not require that you sit at a desk in the office. You can do that much from right here." He let out a sigh. "Think it over then let us know what you've decided to do."

Janet's head was spinning. She headed for the stairs but paused at the bottom step. "I will think about it. And I'll let you know," she said then headed on up to her room.

# CHAPTER 23

It was late in the day when Craig finally made it back to downtown San Francisco. Stepping off the elevator on the twenty-first floor of the high-rise, he entered the Global office suite and paused long enough to survey the progress of packing and labeling boxes of files and other sensitive information. He spent a few minutes talking to some of the staff, managers mostly, then asked Alex and Tony to join him in his office.

"You boys have a nice weekend?"

Both nodded, but Alex had to laugh. "Sure, if you call coming into work, digging through files, looking for incriminating evidence, and then helping to close this place down, as having a nice weekend."

Craig chuckled. "Good point. So, I have a question. Besides, that day in Chinatown, have either of you attempted to follow me anywhere else and for any particular reason?"

Alex smiled. "Seriously? You nailed us within minutes that one time and even though you gave us some great tips, you really think we can follow you anywhere and you not know it?"

Craig grinned and nodded. "And the deli?"

"Sorry, but we were there first. Maybe you were following us."

Craig laughed aloud. "Touché. And that's it?"

"As I said," Alex replied. "You're the pro. We're the amateurs. It would take more than a few minutes listening to you explaining how to tail someone for us to be able to pull it off successfully."

Craig nodded. "Okay, so Edna. My guess is she probably put you both up to following me the first time."

"Yes," Alex said.

"Right. Well, we all know she wasn't too happy about me being here. Have you heard from her, or know where she is? For instance, did she take a new job someplace else? Anything?"

Tony shrugged and shook his head. "I haven't heard a word since she stormed out of here the other day. To be honest, although I was shocked, I can't say I miss her."

Alex nodded in agreement.

"Understood," Craig said. "Well, in the meantime, we have to stay focused on the purpose of our activity right now. Something very bad happened here not long ago. Something sinister and possibly lethal and somehow Ray is involved. His blood and the blood of one other person was identified as that found in the conference room, but there's more to it than that. Two bodies, both men, were found washed up on a little strip of sandy beach below Cliff House. Some hikers found them while they were beachcombing at low tide. Near the Sutro Baths."

"Okay," Alex said. "And?"

"The extra blood found was a match to one of them, and the other man had an ink pen in his pocket."

"An ink pen," Tony repeated and frowned.

"It was one of ours."

"Whoa!" Tony replied. "So, they were the two guys Janet heard in the office that night?"

"It would seem so."

"And you think Ray killed them since we now know he's not dead," Tony said.

"Yes, but I don't think he would have done that himself. I'm sure he ordered the hit."

Tony and Alex both sat quietly for a long moment.

Alex finally asked, "What did you want to talk to us about?"

Craig looked his two young companions then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desktop, his hands folded. "I need eyes. I need _your_ eyes."

"Wait!" Tony feigned being alarmed. "You're not going to –" he made a gesture that suggested someone was going to gouge out his eyes.

"No, of course not!" Craig said, momentarily annoyed. "Let's stay focused. No. I need you both to do some detective work for me. It's last minute, and I don't have time to do it myself. But the timing is critical. If you have concerns about me and how I'm running things, you're more than welcome to walk away. Find other jobs, if you like. I'll give you both good recommendations. Either way, though, I've got a job to do, and I intend to do it." His face was stern. The twinkle was gone from his eyes. "But if you're both willing to stick around a little longer, I have something I need you to do for me." He watched them.

"You're not going to ask us to spy, are you?" Alex said and chuckled.

"Actually, yes. I am."

Alex stopped smiling. "Oh, come on. That's exactly the kind of stuff Edna asked us to do."

"Yes, but in spite of that, I need you to do exactly that for me right now."

Tony was surprised. "You mean right now, right now?"

"Yes."

He glanced at Alex then looked at Craig and cracked a smile. "Okay. I'll do it," he said. "Why not? What do you need?"

"That's better, Tony," Craig said. He looked at Alex.

Alex glanced at Tony as if he were crazy but replied, "Sure. Why not." He seemed less enthusiastic.

"Good. It's a small task, but it will give you an opportunity to work on your surveillance skills." He handed them a slip of paper. Go to this location and keep your eyes open. Let me know what you see. Whatever it is just observe and report back to me. Nothing else. Do you understand?"

They both nodded. Alex took the piece of paper, frowned, then showed it to Tony. They were bewildered.

"Is there a problem?" Craig asked.

"You want us to go watch a city park," Alex said.

"That is correct. And that's all I want you to do. Just watch and report back anything you find interesting."

"What are we looking for?"

"You'll know if you see it." He picked up a pen and began making some notes on a pad of paper. "I'd get going if I were you," he said without looking up.

They walked out of his office and returned to their desks to grab jackets and noticed two staff in Edna's office packing it up. In a much more somber mood now, Alex and Tony left, taking the elevator to the lobby.

"You think he's just trying to get rid of us for a while?" Tony asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe he wants someone to check our desks and stuff and is sending us on a wild goose chase just to get us out of the way."

Alex was amused. "We've got nothing to hide."

"I know, but still."

"Come on. Let's go find out what's so important to see at the park."

Although dressed for the damp weather, it wasn't long before they wished they'd brought umbrellas. Both walked briskly to Drumm Street then north to a popular city park a few blocks away. They barely noticed the Christmas decorations and gift ideas that adorned nearly every storefront. And although their progress was hampered by the throngs of people out shopping, Alex and Tony managed to press on. Once at the park, they walked around the perimeter for a few minutes until they found a palm tree to stand under for some shelter from the drizzle-turned-light rain. They noticed that very few people were hanging around due to the weather. Mostly they saw folks using it as a short cut to get to their destinations in a hurry. A crisscross of meandering sidewalks led in various directions. One man was walking a dog, but they both seemed perfectly content to be out and about, even if it was wet. Park benches looked lonely from the lack of use except for one. A man and a woman sat close together huddled under a large umbrella.

"That's kinda cute, don't you think?" Tony asked.

"What is?"

"Them," he pointed. "That man and woman cuddled up on the park bench over there."

Alex followed his gaze. "Crazy, if you ask me. You'd think they'd rather be somewhere else warm and dry." He continued to scan the park. "Keep looking," he said. "There's bound to be a good reason why Craig wanted us out here and right now."

Tony hunched his shoulders against the dampness. "And you're sure he didn't send us on a wild goose chase?"

Alex didn't respond.

Tony pulled the collar of his overcoat up higher around his neck. "I wish we'd brought umbrellas."

"Yeah."

They wandered to another palm tree to get a different view of the park but all they could see, for the most part, was the couple sitting on the bench huddled under an umbrella.

"I wonder how long Craig expects us to stand here and get drenched?" Tony asked.

Alex shook his head. "I don't know. Until we learn another lesson about spying maybe?" He kept looking.

Tony laughed then suddenly stopped and grabbed Alex's arm. "Hold on. Look."

"At what?"

"That man and woman. Look at the man. Maybe I'm crazy, but I think it's Ray." Tony kept staring at them. The man and woman were still huddled under the umbrella, but the man was now half-turned, and they could see one side of his face.

Alex focused on them for a moment then quickly scanned the park and areas close by before responding. "I think you're right," he said. "You recognize the woman?"

At that moment both the man and the woman stood up. They turned around, still talking, but facing in the direction of Alex and Tony.

"Oh, heck!" Alex said. He grabbed Tony's hand and pulled him along.

"What are you doing man! I like you but I'm not _into_ you." Tony tried to pull away.

"Be quiet and come on." Alex pulled him behind a large bush a few feet away but kept his eyes on the man and woman.

Tony jerked his hand away and watched as well. They saw the man walking away, but the woman was out of their view because of the bush.

"It's them. It's both of them," Alex said. "It's Ray and Edna. They're _both_ alive! I wonder what that little meeting was all about?" He kept watching but quickly scanned the park again. "You follow Ray!" Alex said impulsively. "I'll follow Edna!"

"Wait! We're splitting up? Craig said we just needed to watch and not do anything except go back and tell him what we saw."

"I know, but maybe we can find out something else. So, go!"

"But why can't I follow Edna?" Tony said.

"Just go! We'll meet back at the office!"

"But –"

_"Go!_ Before we lose them," Alex said. He took off in pursuit after Edna leaving Tony standing in the drizzle and momentarily uncertain. He finally bolted in the direction he'd last seen Ray headed, then spotted him half a block ahead. "I sure hope he didn't see us," Tony mumbled as he hurried to catch up but at the same time with the intention of keeping a safe distance. Ray trudged on in his typical and deliberate stride, his head down against the rain. Tony suddenly thought about Craig's surveillance skills and wondered if Ray's skills were just as good. _Probably as good or better,_ he thought.

Doing his best to be discreet, Tony kept on while light rain tossed about. Seagulls swooped happily overhead calling to each other and in pursuit of any discarded morsels. _If only I were a dumb bird, I could keep tabs on Ray a whole lot easier._

Alex, at the same time, managed to keep pace with Edna. The purple scarf she was wearing was a dead giveaway. She had the umbrella open but clutched close to her body to prevent the increasing gusts of wind from pulling it away.

Waiting for a green light at an intersection, she happened to look around. Alex ducked behind a lamp post and stared at a storefront window and its dazzling holiday decorations. He watched the reflections of the window and counted to ten then looked again. She had already crossed the street. Hurrying to catch up, he nearly lost sight of her in a crowd but watched her stop at a bus kiosk and stand under the roof for shelter. Almost immediately a bus pulled up. She climbed on board, along with a couple of other men who ran up at the last minute. Alex watched the bus ease back into traffic. He noted the ID number before stepping under the cover of an awning to shake off the rain and pull out his phone to send a quick text message. That done, he waited a few minutes to watch the area then casually made his way back to the office.

Twenty minutes later, Tony showed up completely drenched.

"You finally got back, I see," Alex said grinning.

"Yeah, but I feel like a drowned rat."

"You kinda look like one too," Alex responded and stood up. "Don't sit down. Craig wanted to talk to us as soon as you got back," he said.

Tony nodded glumly but pulled off his jacket first and draped it over the back of his chair.

Alex dialed Craig's extension. "He's back." He hung up. "Let's go."

Craig's door was standing open. He waved them both in and asked Alex to close the door then smiled at his soggy duo. Wet outside, I take it."

"Like you didn't already know that," Alex said.

"Have a seat. Your damp clothes won't hurt the leather." He waited for them to get settled before beginning the debrief. "So, tell me what you discovered, if anything."

Alex looked at Tony then back at Craig. "We saw Ray and Edna sitting together in that park. It seemed odd to us that they'd meet out in the open and sit in the rain."

Craig nodded. "And you're sure it was them."

"Yes," Tony said. "I followed Ray until he managed to disappear in a crowd of people at the cable car turn-around at the end of California Street then I lost him. Sorry."

Craig smiled again. "You did well. How did he look, aside from being wet? Walk with a limp? Favor an arm? Seem like his old self?"

Tony thought for a moment. "He just looked like Ray to me. No noticeable limp or anything. Just bundled up, wearing a hat, and took a round-about way to get back downtown."

Craig looked pensive. "Okay. Do you think he spotted you?"

Tony was uncertain. "Well, I don't know. I did my best to follow your advice about following people but who knows?"

Craig looked at Alex. "How about you?"

"I followed Edna along the Embarcadero most of the way. She eventually caught a bus heading up Market Street. That's when I lost her."

"You're sure it was Edna?"

"Oh, yeah. She was wearing that ugly purple scarf she is so fond of."

Craig nodded again and smiled. "Good work."

"Was it?" Tony asked. "We didn't find out much of anything."

"Actually, you did," Craig replied. "You both have absolutely confirmed Ray is alive and he and Edna are meeting secretly. And the fact they met in a public place in a highly visible area, before leaving in different directions, is significant."

"It is?" Tony said. "How?"

"Ray is a clever man. He's not going to risk being seen out in the open unless he has a good reason." Craig paused and started to tap his fingers on the desktop, almost aimlessly. "I may need your help again, but I want to think about some things first. Why don't you both go home? Take hot showers, warm up, but stay inside for now and close to your phones. I may call you later."

Alex and Tony got up to leave. Tony walked out first.

Alex lingered then looked at Craig. "You knew he was going to be there, didn't you?"

"I had a tip."

"So, you think I'm right."

Craig looked up at him. "That Ray has put out a hit on Edna? Yes. I have little doubt that his meeting with her today in the open was to identify her as the mark to someone who was also in the vicinity. I couldn't go, because I would have been spotted immediately. It was my hope that the two of you could be my eyes without drawing attention to yourselves. Did you see anyone else of interest?"

He nodded. "Yes. Two men. I spotted them at the far end of the park and then again at the bus stop. They jumped on the same bus that Edna boarded but at the last minute." He sighed. "You know, I don't really care for Edna, but I am concerned about her safety."

"Me too," Craig said. "I've assigned someone else to keep an eye on her. I'm hoping to hear from him soon. Sending that message helped."

Alex stared out Craig's large window at the gray and soggy day. He grinned and let out a quiet laugh. "In spite of the weather, there are a lot of crazy people out. Only in San Francisco. Well, maybe not only here, but one of the things about this city that will never change, is the weather and that it doesn't keep people home. They were out doing Christmas shopping, or whatever. Checking their lists and sizing up deals in anticipation of Black Friday." He sobered. "If those two men were not the ones on the hunt then –" Alex furrowed his brow.

"What?" Craig asked.

"Other than a few brave souls out in this weather, there was another man out in that park walking a dog."

Craig acknowledged with a nod. "A dog. Okay."

"I tried to pay closer attention to him too but they kept moving and didn't stop or look around that I could tell."

Craig swiveled his chair and stared out the window along with Alex. "Do you think he might have noticed you and Tony?"

"The man with the dog? Anything's possible but I honestly don't know. He was quite a distance from us, but he wasn't really watching Edna and Ray either."

"But that doesn't mean he couldn't have made the mark if he is the hitman. And if those other two men were also out there on Ray's bidding, it might be they were making sure of her identity and where she was headed after meeting with Ray."

"That would make sense, given Ray's habits."

"Watch your back, Alex. You and Tony both. If the man with the dog was one of Ray's contacts, hitman or not, he could have just as easily spotted the two of you, especially if you were showing any interest in Ray and Edna. Just remember your training and pay attention."

"You're right. I need to work on being more careful and observant. And speaking of Tony, are you sure you want him out doing surveillance? He isn't trained, you know."

Craig nodded. "I know, but if I do send you both back out again, you need to stick close to him. Separating today ended up okay for the moment, at least let's hope so, but from now on, he's either with you or stays back. I don't want him to get caught in the middle of something he can't handle."

Alex nodded. "Maybe you shouldn't ask him to do this kind of this stuff anymore."

"Perhaps, but at the same time, I don't want you out there alone either. If you're with him you can both appear to be hanging out together. It's easier to cover your intentions that way rather than being on your own." He paused. "What did you see the other day when you followed me? Anything in particular?"

"Just that you went in that door that leads up to offices overlooking Market Street. Then I lost sight of you after you came back out and crossed the street to my side." Alex said. "On my way back, though, I stopped to gaze at some shop windows and took advantage of reflections. I just didn't see anything or anyone suspicious."

"Hopefully there was nothing to see," Craig said. He let out a sigh, then picked up some papers and straightened them before placing them back in a pile. "You did well today."

"Even if I don't have the best surveillance skills?" Alex said.

"Yup, but you are improving – a great deal. I am pleased."

"You know I do understand this is serious business," Alex said and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I really am trying."

Craig laughed. "I know. It shows. Now go home. Get cleaned up, and warmed up, but be ready to move on short notice." Craig stopped him. "And Alex I'm down to a very small handful of people I can trust. I like Tony. He seems trustworthy, but as you pointed out, perhaps we shouldn't involve him in any of this anymore. I just wasn't comfortable sending you out alone just yet, especially on this particular assignment. I realize that your training is extremely unconventional. You are learning on-the-go. As for today, I needed to know if the tip was genuine and you were all I had. As for Tony, I have to agree with you, so the more I think about it, I doubt I'll put him out there again."

"He'll wonder what's going on," Alex said.

"We'll think of something."

"Okay," Alex said. "Hey, how's Janet doing?"

"She's fine. And safe for now." Craig thumbed through the papers on his desk again then leaned back in his chair and sized Alex up. "Does she trust you?"

"I guess. Yeah. Pretty much. We got along fine here at work." He shifted from one foot to the other. "Why? Is there a problem?"

"She's suspicious of me, and the dynamic duo."

Alex chuckled.

"It's all understandable," Craig said, "but I need her to trust us. All of us. Otherwise, I worry she might try to take off. We can't afford to lose her. If she gets away, she will be completely vulnerable."

"I understand," Alex said and studied Craig. "So, you finally met her."

"I did."

"And what did you think of her?"

"Smart. Asked a lot of questions, but good ones. And she's able to come to some conclusions on her own. We discussed some of Ray's contracts. She was putting things together, making some good points. I like her."

"Okay," Alex said. "So aside from the fact that she may be a material witness to something criminal, what else is going on? Why is she so important to you?"

Craig let out a laugh. "What makes you think there's anything else going on? If she's a material witness, as you said, then we need to protect her. That's it. Nothing more."

Alex nodded and let out a tired sigh. "Okay. I'll go home. Call if you need me." He walked out of Craig's office and back to his desk to tidy things up.

Craig sat at his desk and pondered on Alex's remark. _Is it that obvious? Him. Hector and John, even Charlie have all commented on her and my interest in her. I need to be more careful. I'm letting my guard down and that could be dangerous for her and for me_.

Tony came out of the break room drying his hands with a paper towel. He wadded it up and tossed in his waste can. "What were you and Craig talking about?" he asked.

"Oh, not much. He had a couple more questions about Edna and wanted to know why I didn't jump on the bus with her."

"Oh, right!" Tony laughed. "As if she wouldn't recognize you and wonder what you were doing? That would have been pretty weird, wouldn't it?"

"That's what I said." Alex took one last look at his desk. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Come on," Alex said. "And speaking of buses, I'll take one partway with you, unless you want to share a cab."

Tony pulled on his soggy jacket. "Do you still have the feeling that Craig knows more than he's telling us?"

"Absolutely. But why would he tell us anything more? We're just a couple of budget analysts, out of a job, and poor excuses for spies."

Tony laughed. "You got that right. How about we get something to eat first?"

"Sure," Alex said.

They left the building and headed to a nearby bistro. Settled at a window table, they placed their order, then sat back to stare out at the familiar after-hours street life in the City. Night had come, and the light rain had increased. Christmas lights and other holiday decorations adorned nearly every business window creating a colorful glow reflecting off of anything wet. Taxis, buses, and cable cars sported Christmas wreaths wired to their front grills, and somewhere down the street, they could hear the faint but familiar sound of a Salvation Army volunteer ringing a bell.

Both men were quiet, each mulling over their own thoughts.

Tony finally broke the silence. "Three more days till Thanksgiving. You have plans?"

"Not really. All my family live back east. You?"

"I come from a big family, believe it or not. Three and a half generations."

"Three and a _half?_ "

"Yeah. We kid my great-grandmother that she's half a generation. She's a widow and very short." He laughed and held out his hand at waist level. "She always starts chattering in Chinese letting us know all about her life, but there's nothing half-way about that. We just let her talk."

Alex grinned and nodded then stared out the window again.

The server brought their food and refilled their water glasses.

Tony watched his friend and waited for the server to leave. "You like her, don't you?"

"What?" Alex broke his gaze to watch the waitress walking away. "I don't even know her."

"Not the waitress. I'm talking about Janet. You like her."

Alex tried to suppress a smile but without much success. "Yeah. I guess so, but what brought that up?"

"Oh, I don't know." Tony shrugged. "You're going to be alone for Thanksgiving, and she's out there somewhere and maybe alone but hopefully safe. I just figured you'd rather be spending the Holiday with her. In fact, I was going to suggest that a couple of weeks ago; before all this happened. I know you're worried about her."

"Sure, I'm worried, just like you."

"Yeah."

Alex nodded and sighed. "And, yes, I do like her. I just wish I knew where she is and if she's okay."

I'm sure she is," Tony said.

Alex played with his napkin. "It's just –" He paused long enough for the waitress to check on them, then shrugged instead of finishing his sentence.

"I understand," Tony said.

Alex stared out the window again. "It's just that I can't shake this feeling."

"What kind of feeling?"

"That there's more to this than we think. Remember what Craig said about looking at what we're supposed to look at, or something like that?"

Tony's eyes widened. "Yeah. Like maybe we're not seeing what we should?"

Alex looked thoughtful. "Yes. So, what should we see? What's missing?" He kept staring out the window. Tony followed his gaze.

Both sat quietly for a while, wrestling with their thoughts and questions, struggling to come up with some answers.

Alex let out a laugh. "Look at us. Trying to be detectives. As if the real detectives aren't already asking themselves the same questions."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah. Just like you said, we're just a couple of budget analysts. But that's doesn't stop us from wondering. I mean, heck, Ray disappears, and everyone thinks he's dead, then he shows up in that park. Janet's gone, Edna quits, Craig gets shot at, and then there was the bomb scare." He frowned and took a bite of his sandwich.

Alex watched him. "Right. It's like a puzzle, and someone needs to put the pieces together and in the right places." He suddenly felt helpless. "I just want to go home. I'm cold and tired."

They finished their meal then cleaned up their table and headed for the bus stop.

"Do you think Janet actually saw Ray get shot or just heard it?" Tony said.

"I don't know, but I hope she didn't actually see anything. Because if she did," he struggled with his dire thought. "If she really is a material witness, then she definitely is in danger."

"Okay, but even if she didn't see anything. If someone thought she did –" Tony gave Alex a knowing look.

Alex nodded. "Yeah. That too."

Craig was still in his office but on his personal phone waiting for someone to pick up.

"Yeah, boss?" John answered.

"How's she doing?"

"Fine. We were just discussing what we're going to have for Thanksgiving Dinner. She was in pretty good spirits and wants to help with the meal. I think she's beginning to relax a little more. You gonna join us?"

"I'm not sure. You think you're gaining her trust?"

"Maybe a little. I think she'll be fine, but it would help if you'd fill us in on a few things."

"Fill you in?"

"You know exactly what I mean. You know something about her that you're not sharing. It might help if we knew."

"I have no idea where you're coming up with that notion," Craig said. "But right now, I need to know you're doing everything you can to keep her safe and comfortable. And keep building trust with her. She's going to need to trust you, and especially if she accepts my offer to join us."

"Even after you insisted you didn't want her around us and our kind of business? What changed your mind?"

"Since we do need to protect her, and since Global is closing, I decided to invite her to join us, but in more of an administrative way. That way, we can continue to protect her and she will still have a job. It's my hope this way she will begin to trust us, and you two, in particular – at least for now. Besides, who else can I trust her to be with but the two of you right now?"

"Copy that. You know we will do the best we can," John said. "You, me, Hector - the three of us have been through far too much all these years to break the trust we have in each other. We're with you." He paused. "So, if you don't come for Thanksgiving dinner, that's fine, but when are you coming back? She keeps asking questions about you, and we don't know what else we can tell her if anything."

"Still asking questions."

"Yes, sir, but we can't blame her."

"I don't blame her, and I do understand. As for coming back, I'm not sure when, but soon, I hope. Right now, I have some other things I need to take care of first. I'll be in touch."

# CHAPTER 24

It was Tuesday, just after eleven o'clock in the morning, and two days before Thanksgiving. Craig assembled his small staff in the conference room. "I want you all to know how much I've appreciated your help getting things together. I'm giving you all the rest of the week off, with pay, to enjoy Thanksgiving."

There were quiet responses from them, mixed with apprehension. Marcus glanced around the table then asked the question on everyone's mind.

"Just give it to us straight," he said. "Is the office closing _permanently_?"

Craig drew in a deep breath. "A lot has happened over the past week or so. I've been in touch with headquarters on an almost daily basis and sometimes more than once, on any given day. My hope has been to keep the office open while they continue their investigation. However –" He paused. "However, the decision is to permanently close this office."

Quiet gasps followed by mumbling broke out. Craig gave them a few moments to vent their feelings and frustrations before continuing.

"I do understand your disappointment and concerns. I have been in your shoes on more than one occasion. I opposed the closure but received a phone call today, followed by an email just a short time ago, stating their intentions to close this office as of the end of this calendar year. That said, I wish to express my appreciation for your willingness to stay on, especially to help with our internal audit of files and financials. Your work has been exemplary."

He looked at a couple of notes before continuing. "Either later today or by tomorrow morning, we will receive a list of current openings in the various other Global offices, both domestic and international. Headquarters has promised that staff from this office will receive priority placements if you qualify for and choose to accept one of those positions." He paused. "Any questions?"

No one spoke.

He nodded. "Alright, then we have very little time remaining to wrap things up. Oh, and I have arranged for a catered luncheon for all of us on our last physical day here and decided we should remain in our suite for that gathering. I anticipate our mood will be rather somber and felt we might be more comfortable spending that last day together unobserved by others. I hope that meets with your approval."

Heads nodded.

"Any questions?"

Alex raised his hand.

Craig grinned. "The young man at the end of the table." He gestured.

Others chuckled while Alex gave Craig a dirty look.

"So, we should be able to see what those jobs are by tomorrow?"

"Yes. As soon as I get the information, I'll let everyone know. Any other questions?"

Another hand went up. "Do you have an idea where some of these other jobs are?"

"All I can tell you at the moment is the closest Global office is in Denver. Everything else is either east of the Mississippi River or overseas. Cost of moving and relocation expenses will also be covered by Global.

He cleared this throat. "As you know, this office was intended to support our Pacific Rim business. However, now with the new Tokyo office, any Asian business will be handled there. North and South American business will go through either the Denver or Virginia offices. Anything in Europe will still be handled by the London office." He waited and quietly measured the mood of his staff.

"I realize this isn't the best time of year to lose your job, no time is, but in spite of my extensive and aggressive arguments to the contrary, it was of no use. They had already made up their minds."

The room was silent again.

Finally, one hand cautiously went up.

"Yes?"

"What about your job?"

Craig paused a moment and offered a weary smile. "I'm not sure what I'll be doing or where I'll be going just yet. Being sent here, as you recall, was a temporary assignment from the outset and I knew that."

Another hand went up. "What about the investigation of Ray Martindale?"

"It's still ongoing, but being handled by headquarters and the police, although the FBI has also gotten involved with the knowledge that the suspicious activities coming from this office had a much farther reach than just within California. As far as the international side of things, the CIA is jointly looking into those activities along with the respective government officials."

He checked his notes again, then shared the remaining details of the closure. Beginning next Monday, after we return from the Thanksgiving holiday, we'll begin packing up everything else in the office. All of the files you've already packed, with hard evidence about Ray's activities, have already been shipped to headquarters. Everything else, including all additional files not directly related to Ray's activities, any other data, all computers, other equipment, all additional inventory, will be packed and shipped to Virginia."

"The furniture too?" Chet asked.

"I believe some or all of the furniture belongs to the property management group of this building and will stay here."

"Okay. I just wondered."

Craig continued. "Professional movers will show up the week before the Christmas holiday to load everything. I ask that all of you pack your own files and clearly label the boxes, but do not seal them. The moving company will provide containers. Those should be delivered early Monday morning. I'll be here to receive all of that then we'll get started."

He glanced around one more time then studied his notes and exhaled a deep breath. "Okay. The office will officially close for business with the public as of today at five o'clock. All incoming calls and inquiries about this office will be routed to Virginia automatically starting today as well." He checked his watch. "That has likely already begun. "If your phones do ring, do not pick up. Let calls go to voice mail since we have been instructed not to speak directly to clients, the media, or anyone else about what's going on beginning now. Headquarters will handle all calls. Please do not chat about our business to anyone outside of work. And in a few minutes, we're going to cover the front door and reception area windows with heavy paper so we can conduct our activity in private."

He glanced at his notes one more time. "And again, your official last day of work will be December twenty-third at which time I will hand out your separation packages. You will receive holiday pay beginning Christmas Eve through the end of the month. But during our last week here, a team of staff from Virginia will arrive to conduct exit interviews. During those interviews, relocation assignments will be discussed. They will also collect all keys, ID cards, building access cards, and inspect your desks and unfortunately your personal items before you leave on the twenty-third."

"Don't they trust us?" Chet asked.

"It's routine, Chet. We are a security and investigation company. It isn't so much a matter of trust as it is to verify that all security precautions have been taken. We need to safeguard the confidentiality of our clients' information. They will expect that from us during this trying time."

The finality of the news was sinking in. It was palpable.

Craig looked at his staff. "If you don't have any more questions or anything else to discuss, you may get back to work. If you do think of anything, come see me."

Everyone quietly returned to their desks. Craig went to his office and closed his door but only partway. Faye arrived a short while later and with the assistance of Hazel began to tape large sheets of heavy brown paper over the front entry windows and glass door. A sign on the door informed the public of the office closure and a contact number to call for questions.

Alex and Tony sat looking at each other in silence as a low hum of conversation permeated the office.

"He's right about one thing," Tony said. "This is the worst time of year to get laid off."

"Yeah," Alex agreed. "And I'm curious just how generous the severances will be."

"Me too. Especially since I've already started buying Christmas presents for everyone in my family." He looked around then suddenly asked, "Are we allowed to go offsite to get lunch or even go down the hall to use the restroom?"

Alex laughed. "Well, sure. Why not?"

"Aren't they worried that if we do go out to lunch, we still might talk to someone anyway or take things with us?"

"I suppose. But we all have to go home tonight. They're not going to lock us in."

"That's true. Well, okay, then. As long as I can get some lunch. I'm already hungry."

"You're always hungry." Alex laughed.

Tony made a face, but at precisely twelve o'clock noon, he was ready to go. "You coming?" he asked Alex.

"Yeah. I guess so." They grabbed jackets and headed to the front desk and counter.

Hazel stopped them. "You have to sign out," she said, pushing a clipboard at them. Craig's orders, and put down the time."

"Geez," Tony said as he signed out.

"And you have to sign in when you return," she said. "And no more than an hour for lunch."

Without responding, they walked out into the corridor.

"Where to?" Alex asked. "The café on the fourth floor?"

"No. I want to get out of the building," Tony said. "I feel like a prisoner." He pressed the elevator call button.

Alex laughed. "What's so different about today than any other day?"

"The windows are covered up." Tony gestured at their office entrance. "Signing in and out. Being told we only have an hour for lunch. That's what."

"We've always had an hour for lunch," Alex said.

"I know, but we've never had to sign out before and promise to be back in an hour. I'm just annoyed. I guess it's because we all found out we lost our jobs today. I'm not happy."

The elevator car arrived, and they stepped on board.

Once downstairs, they walked through the lobby and headed out into the gray and drizzly day.

"Let's go over to Market Street," Tony said. "I need to find Christmas presents for my folks and sister before I run out of money."

They waited at the corner for the light to change.

"So, Tony, have you given much thought to taking one of those other jobs with Global?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. All my family is here."

People started to cross the street, and Tony noticed a small but festive looking shop on the opposite corner.

"Let's go in there so I can look around."

"What about lunch?" Alex asked.

"We can always grab something and take it back up to the office," Tony said. "Come on." Tony headed for the small shop.

While he walked around, looking at possible gifts, Alex stood watching the street activity through a decorated window display.

Downtown was always busy during the day. But now with Christmas and Hanukkah approaching, people were eagerly shopping for gifts. As he watched, he was surprised to see Hazel standing across the street waiting for the light to change. She seemed anxious and burst into the crosswalk the minute the light turned green. Several others fell into step behind her. He continued to watch as she quickly headed up Market Street.

Alex looked around for Tony who was busy talking to a salesgirl then walked to the door. Once Hazel moved further along, he stepped outside deciding to follow a short distance, mostly out of curiosity.

A few storefronts, farther along, Hazel paused in front of a decorated window looking at holiday decorations. He looked off in a different direction then casually checked her progress. She was gone. He scanned the moving crowds focusing on other store windows then smiled. There she was, admiring another window display. He remembered Craig's assessment of his last attempt to follow him and being spotted via a reflection on a window.

Maintaining a discreet distance, Alex eased in behind some people and continued to move along. Hazel suddenly stopped. So did he. Her body language had changed. That trademark wiggle she happily displayed at work was gone. She checked her watch, then continued. Her steps were now measured and deliberate. Finally stopping at an entrance to offices located above the shops, he watched her glance around then quickly disappear inside. Although similar to the access Craig had recently used, it was several doors farther down the street.

Alex carefully made his way to the entrance and noted the address. There were no signs or labels of any kind denoting which businesses occupied the upper space in the building.

Not wanting to get caught nosing around if Hazel were to suddenly exit the building, he headed back toward the gift shop but stopped a couple of times to gaze back. He finally positioned himself out of the way of passersby to watch the door.

Moments later, Tony came out of the shop with a bag of items he'd just purchased. He noticed Alex standing up against the building but staring at something up the street. "What are you looking at?" he asked as he approached. "It's cold and drizzly."

"Waiting and watching."

Tony followed Alex's gaze. "Waiting and watching for what?"

"Hazel."

"Hazel?" Tony looked again. "What about her?"

"I don't know. At first, I was just watching her through the store window, but decided to amuse myself while you shopped and followed her."

"Okay." Tony wasn't sure why Alex was so interested in Hazel but stood watching as well. "Where is she?"

"In a building up the block. She used a door that leads up to offices above the shops."

"And that's interesting because –"

"For one thing, there is no signage indicating what's upstairs and because she seemed different. There was something different about her."

"Different."

Alex smiled and shook his head. "I don't know." He turned away from his surveillance. "Come on, let's go. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

Tony was now intrigued. "When you say she was different, what did you mean?"

Alex glanced back up the street. "Well - you know how she is in the office. How she interacts with everyone and how she walks around."

"Yeah. All that wiggling."

"Right, well just now, it was the way she was walking and looking around. No wiggles, just different. More deliberate and serious." Alex laughed. "I think I'm letting my imagination get the better of me with all this stuff that's been going on. Let's just go get something to eat." He started for the corner when Tony stopped him.

"Wait!"

Alex stopped. "What?"

"Back inside!" Tony said and yanked on Alex's arm.

They hurried back into the gift shop and stood at the window watching then quickly stepped back when Hazel approached. She walked to the corner just as the light turned green, crossing with several others.

Alex and Tony hurried back outside. Tony kept watching Hazel and quickly headed to the crosswalk to join the last couple of people crossing the street, but Alex looked up the street and noticed a man exiting the same door Hazel had used earlier. He adjusted his tie then smoothed his hair with one hand.

Alex suddenly thought to take some photos of the man. Satisfied that he got something, he realized Tony had already crossed the street and motioned for him to keep following Hazel. He, however, quickly scanned for the man who by now was heading up Market Street.

Although there was no particular reason to suspect the man, the circumstance aroused Alex's curiosity. He hurried to close the distance between the man and himself, weaving through the crowds. Open umbrellas interfered with his ability to keep an eye on the man. Suddenly, Alex spotted him stopped at the next corner. He was talking on his phone. Moments later, another man joined him. They stood and talked for a few minutes. Each gestured from time to time while Alex continued to take pictures.

Suddenly both men turned and looked in his direction. Alex repositioned his phone to take a photo of something else but managed to capture both men in the shot. Then, pretending to look for more things to take photos of, he noticed the men separated and moved off into the crowds. He took two more photos then waited before approaching the same corner to cross the street and head back.

Tony was waiting for him just inside the building lobby. "What were you doing?" he asked. "Hazel came right back here."

"Well, while you were watching Hazel, I noticed this other guy come out of that same door."

"Another guy? You sure he came out of the same door?" Tony asked.

"I'm sure, and there was something odd about him too. So, I followed him."

"And?"

"He met up with some other guy, and they talked for a minute then separated, so I came back here."

"Well, we need to get back upstairs," Tony said.

They hurried to the elevators and waited for a car.

"Hey," Tony said. "We forgot to get lunch."

An elevator car arrived. They stepped in, and Alex pressed the button for the fourth floor. "I guess we're getting something at the café after all," he said.

By the time they returned to the office suite, bundles of folded cardboard boxes had already arrived and were stacked on top of a couple of empty desks.

Alex signed in then made a comment to Hazel about them.

"They came a day early," she said. "While you both were at lunch." She shoved the clipboard toward Tony. He signed in and shoved it back.

"You don't have to be rude about it," she said, pushing the clipboard off to one side.

"What," he said. "All I did was give it back to you."

They glared at each other momentarily until Hazel broke her gaze to focus on nothing in particular on her desk.

Alex waited until they were back at their desks and seated before commenting. "What was that all about?"

"Oh, I don't know. I guess I'm just frustrated and irritated."

Both men looked around as they unwrapped their sandwiches. Other staff had already decided to go ahead and start packing.

"This is really depressing," Tony said.

Alex agreed then looked at his phone and the photos he'd taken. Tony watched while he ate his sandwich. "What'cha looking at?"

Alex shrugged. "Oh, nothing in particular." He was sitting sideways at his desk. Craig stopped on his way to the break room.

He smiled. "You boys doing okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Alex said, setting down his phone. "Don't worry. I'm not calling anybody, just looking at some photos I took while I was at lunch. It's getting pretty festive out there."

Craig stopped. "Photos, eh? There are a lot of nice holiday decorations in store windows, that's for sure."

"Yeah. That and interesting people." He gave Craig a look.

"Street people?"

Alex handed Craig his phone.

"Huh. Interesting. When did you take these?" Craig asked as he scanned the images.

"Just a little while ago at lunch while Tony was doing some Christmas shopping."

"Nice shots." He handed back the phone and continued on to the break room.

Alex set the phone aside and looked at Tony who seemed bewildered. "What?"

"I don't know," Tony said, "but that was kind of weird."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that he seemed really interested in the photos you'd taken."

"So?"

"Never mind. Oh, and are you going to tell him about Hazel?"

Alex looked surprised. "Why should I? It didn't look like she was doing anything wrong."

Tony leaned forward and lowered his voice. "But you said she seemed different. What if –" he glanced around. "What if she's somehow involved in all of this stuff?"

"Hazel?" Alex was amused. "Doing what?"

"I don't know. You're the one that said she was acting strange."

Craig walked past with a cup of coffee.

Tony watched him until he disappeared into this office. He stood up. "I'm going to get some of those boxes. You want any?"

"I guess. Sure." Alex waited until Tony walked away then quickly sent the photos of the mysterious men to Craig and a couple of Hazel.

# CHAPTER 25

"I'm sending you some photos," Craig said to someone on his cell phone. "You know what to do. Get back to me as soon as you can." He hung up, sent the photos, then stood up. His office door was slightly ajar. Through it, he could see a very somber group of people packing boxes. Conversations were few and hushed at that. He walked to the door, opened it a little farther, and made eye contact with Alex who was standing at his desk placing files into a box. Craig discreetly tapped his wristwatch two times. Alex nodded slightly then Craig returned to his desk but left the door open.

Around two o'clock, Alex casually wandered to Craig's doorway who motioned him in. They sat across from each other but left the door open.

"It was a fluke," Alex said in response to Craig's curiosity about the photos. "If Tony hadn't insisted on stopping to shop, I would have missed her altogether."

Craig nodded and leaned back. "You know I had backgrounds run on everyone here, including hers and it all came back okay, but almost too good. I've wondered about her. Now with this information, I'm having the guys run her photo through facial recognition."

Alex nodded.

"We'll see what they come up with." Craig swiveled his chair to stare out the floor to ceiling windows of his office. A seagull swooped by but other than that, everything looked the same; gray, gloomy, and wet.

"What's your game plan?" Craig asked without looking at Alex.

"You mean because I lost my job today? Not sure yet. Haven't really thought about it."

"I'd like you to continue training with me if you're interested. Do you mind?"

"I don't mind."

"Good. We'll talk some more but not here." He swiveled back up to his desk and refocused on some files. "I've got some more work to do before I head out and I think I'll spend some time down the coast. Away from here."

Alex nodded. "Sounds nice."

"Maybe you should come along."

Alex glanced up.

"It might help Janet to have you around." He smiled. "Think you could handle that?"

"Sure." He grinned. "I could handle that." He waited. "Anything else?"

Craig shook his head. "Not at the moment."

Alex stood up. "Okay. Just let me know when we're leaving." He started out the door then paused. "What about those two men? In the photos."

Craig didn't glance up. "I'll let you know as soon as I find out anything."

Alex returned to his desk.

Tony looked up. "What were you doing in there?"

"I had a question about some of our unfinished projects and a couple of the spreadsheets I'd been working on."

"And?"

"And he said headquarters is taking over everything. They'll divvy it all out so we don't need to worry about any of it."

Tony kept pulling files and packing them into boxes. "You talk to him about Hazel?" he asked. "Tell him she was acting strange?"

"Different. I said she was acting differently. Not like the way she behaves here at work."

"Okay. Different. Strange. Whatever. What did he say?"

"Nothing."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Well, I think it's worth checking into. I mean with everything else that's happened around here; you'd think he'd want to check on her acting _differently._ "

"Maybe he will. At least he listened. That's all I care about. Now he and headquarters can deal with her, if they need to, and everything else." He sat down. "You know I'm almost relieved this is all happening. It just hit me how stressed I've been. Right now, it feels like a huge load is off my shoulders."

"Really? Don't you worry about getting another job?"

"I'll listen to whatever they have to offer," Alex said. "Maybe I'll take one of those jobs if I qualify. Heck. Maybe one of the international positions. We'll see. How about you? What are you going to do?"

"I want to stay in this area. And like I said, all my family's here." Tony stopped packing and steadied his gaze on Alex."

Alex noticed. "What?"

"You. Now _you're_ acting differently." Tony got up and went for more boxes, returning with a few. He began putting them together.

"Tony. We're all acting differently. It's the mood around here. I mean look around. Everything's changed, and we've all been caught up in something we had nothing to do with and cannot control."

Tony nodded and let out a sigh. "I know. But I can't help but worry a little. I liked hanging with you. We've had some good times. I'm sorry, but I'm not all that keen on having to start a new job someplace else even here in the City. Plus, if _you_ move far away, you'll never see Janet again."

Alex smiled. "First of all, you don't have to be sorry. I understand. I'm sorry too. And as for Janet, well, after all of this, she'll probably want to move on and start over someplace else far away from here and probably away from all of us too. Bad memories, you know? I mean we'd all be a constant reminder to each other of everything that's happened." He got up. "I think I need some more of those boxes too.

The afternoon wore on. Packed and labeled boxes sat on most desks but all remained unsealed. The Virginia people would take care of that once they inspected the contents of each one. With permission, Faye still showed up to dust and vacuum, sad about the office closing and the somber mood, but doing her best to help cheer people up.

Later in the afternoon, Alex got a call from Craig. He picked up, listened, then hung up.

"What now?" Tony asked.

"Craig wants to see us."

"Us? Why me?"

"I don't know. Just come on."

Reluctantly, Tony followed. Alex closed the door and they sat in the leather chairs facing Craig. He stacked some papers and set them aside.

"I wanted to talk to you both privately."

Tony was immediately uncomfortable.

"Relax," Craig said, smiling. "No one's in trouble, but I do need some more information. I want to ask some questions but if you're not comfortable answering that's okay."

Alex and Tony looked at each other.

"So, Alex," Craig began, "what was it about those two men that got your attention?"

Alex crossed his legs. "Okay, well, for one thing, one of those men –" He leaned forward to look at the file. Craig pushed it toward him. "This guy." He tapped the photo. "He came out of a door that led up to some offices in one of the buildings on Market Street. When he came out, he stopped, adjusted his tie, and ran his hand over his head like he was fixing his hair, except –" Alex thought a moment. "He didn't run his fingers through his hair, he just rubbed his hand over the top of his head once like this." Alex demonstrated. "Then he started up the street, and for some reason, I decided to follow him."

"Then what?"

Alex related how the man waited at the next corner, and the other man showed up, and how they chatted briefly then went their separate ways.

Craig nodded as he continued to look at the photos. He reached for a different file on his desk. "I want to show you both some other photos of several men and ask if any of them resemble either or both of these men."

Tony's eyes were wide. "Okay, but I didn't see them. Not really, and especially not the second guy. I was already back here."

"Okay, Alex? How about you?" Craig spread the photos on his desk. "Take your time," he said.

Tony and Alex both began to examine each photo. Tony sat shaking his head, but Alex was intent. He tapped one of the shots. This guy looks a lot like that one," he said, pointing to one of his photos. "At least I think so."

"What about this one?" Craig offered the last photo where both men were looking in his direction.

"Wait! This guy," Alex said, tapping one of the other larger full-face photos Craig provided. "He looks like the second man. He's the one who joined the first guy. He wasn't wearing glasses, though."

Tony just sat and stared at the photos.

"Okay. That helps," Craig said. He leaned back. "So. Hazel. What did she do after she came out of that door?" He looked at Tony.

"Uh, well she just came back to the office," he said. "She didn't stop anyplace else and she didn't look back at me or anything."

"Alex, do you think this man knew you were following him?" Craig pushed the photo toward him.

"I don't think so. Why would he?"

"When he and the other man turned and looked in your direction, do you think they were looking at you?"

"They were looking in my direction but I don't know if they were actually looking at me. I mean, there's a lot of stuff to look at downtown."

Craig nodded. "Okay."

Tony was getting nervous. "Who-who are all these guys?"

Craig's face was like stone. "Men you don't want to have anything to do with." He stood up. "As much as this information might be very useful, even the part about Hazel, I don't want either of you following anyone again, understood, and that includes following me."

Both looked at each other then back at Craig.

"Sure, Craig," Alex said and looked at the photos again. "You think they spotted me, don't you?"

"These men are dangerous, Alex," Craig said. "Very dangerous, and yes, I think they did."

Tony let out a quiet gasp and looked at Alex, then stared at the photos again.

"Alex," Craig said. "The tie and hair thing you witnessed was likely a signal to someone else. Maybe the other man he met or quite possibly someone else, someone you were not aware of and didn't see. The fact that they looked in your direction might suggest they either acknowledged someone else or, realized you were watching them, or possibly both."

Alex slumped back in his chair. "Damn," he muttered under his breath.

"If they did, in fact, know you were watching them and taking photos, that signal was for someone to watch what you were doing. Most likely they followed you back here. And even more importantly probably took pictures of you taking pictures of his comrades."

Tony was completely unnerved and stared at Craig wide-eyed, his mouth gaped open.

"I want you both to stay onsite the remainder of the day. Do not even leave the suite. I will arrange for someone to pick you both up and take you home."

"W-Wait a minute," Tony said. "What's to stop these guys from following us home?"

"Nothing."

"So –"

"So, let me worry about that. Just stay in the office, box up your files, stay off your phones, and don't say anything about this to anyone else here." Craig's voice was stern, and there was no smile as he watched them return to their desks.

Alex and Tony sat staring blankly at each other. Tony finally got up and quietly began to pack more files.

A short while later, Peter Bradshaw and Marcus Cummings approached Craig's office. The door closed. After thirty minutes both men returned to their private offices. Alex noticed and guessed they had been given special assignments related to the closure.

Craig left his office door open and wandered into the break room. Alex could see him standing at a window with a mug in his hands. He turned and gave a slight head motion for Alex to join him.

Without a word, Alex got up and went to the break room. Tony glanced up but kept packing. Craig moved out of sight of anyone else and waited for Alex.

"What are your plans for Thanksgiving?" Craig quietly asked once Alex joined him.

"Thanksgiving? Nothing, really. Staying home. Alone." Alex was obviously curious, and more than a little nervous about the question after the conversation they had about the suspicious men. "Why?"

"One of those men in the photos was spotted hanging around the building down at the street not too long ago. You may be in danger."

Alex turned pale. "Oh, god. I can't believe I was so stupid again. That I did not realize he was sending signals."

"It's too late to fuss about that. You're still learning, although not in a manner I would prefer. Overall you're doing a good job. I want you to know that. But right now, I've made arrangements to get you safely out of the building. I'm reassigning you immediately."

Alex nodded. "Okay, but how do you know that guy was watching this place and what about Tony?"

"It's not important that you know how I know. And you let me worry about Tony."

"And Hazel? What about her?"

"Again, I'll worry about all of that. Let's just focus on you right now. You need to pretend you're not feeling well."

"I don't need to pretend. I don't feel well. Not at all."

"Good. This might help." Craig pulled a small bottle from his pocket and handed it to Alex. "Drink it."

"What?" What is it?"

"A preparation to make your vomit."

Alex stepped back. "I don't want to vomit. That's gross."

"You need to appear to be sick enough that I can get you out of the office without raising suspicion."

"Okay, but I'm not drinking that stuff. I'll fake it. I was in the thespian's club in high school and took some acting classes in college. So, I'll fake it."

"Then be convincing."

"I will. I can do this." Alex returned to his desk.

Tony watched him. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

Alex screwed up his face. "I don't feel good. Maybe it's the sandwich I ate earlier or all this spy stuff or getting scolded about my lousy spying skills."

"Yeah," Tony said but with obvious concern as he watched his friend.

Alex sat for a moment longer then suddenly threw his hand over his mouth. He rushed to the break room. It wasn't long before everyone could hear his obvious distress. The volume of the chatter increased.

Craig came out of his office. "What's going on?" he asked.

"It's Alex," Tony said. "I think he's sick." Tony made a face.

Craig hurried to the break room and found Alex hunched over the trash receptacle. "You okay, son?"

Alex shook his head.

Craig grabbed some paper towels and dampened them. A few staff had gathered at the break room door. "He'll be fine. Go back to your desks." Craig waited for them to leave then leaned over. "Not bad."

Alex turned his head slightly and smiled. "Told you I could fake it."

"Okay. Let's get you out of here. I'll help you back to your desk. We'll get your things and leave." Craig pulled the trash can liner out and tied it up. He smiled. "Just a precaution. Adds to the authenticity of your discomfort."

Peter met them at the break room door. "Everything okay?"

"Alex isn't feeling well," Craig said. "Literally lost his lunch, I'm afraid." Craig held up the bag. "I'll take care of this but I need to get him home."

"I can call for a cab," Peter said.

"Thanks, but I'll take him in my car which means I'll probably not be back in today. You're in charge, Peter."

"Yes, sir. We'll all continue to keep up with the packing and cleaning."

"Thanks, and remember all calls still go to Headquarters and do not open the door for anyone. The building security office is aware of our closure status," Craig reminded him. "If there's anything we need to know, headquarters or security will contact me, and I'll let you know."

A short while later, Craig loaded Alex into the elevator and pressed a floor button. As soon as the doors closed, he pressed two more, the last being the lobby. Reaching the first stop, Craig and Alex exited the elevator and headed to the end of the hall to a service elevator. From there, they ended up at a service entrance and loading dock at street level. A delivery van sat backed in and waiting. A tall, muscular African American man dressed in a pair of overalls and sporting an unfamiliar company logo approached and took Alex's overcoat. He shoved it into a white canvas bag. He then handed him a pair of similar overalls. "Put these on."

"Quickly, Alex," Craig said.

The other man put a matching baseball cap on Alex's head and handed him a clipboard and some sunglasses.

Craig looked him over. "Okay, Alex, this is Charlie. You are going with him to another location. Don't look out the windows, stay focused on the clipboard, and keep your head down slightly. Understand?"

Alex nodded. "And Charlie is –?"

"Part of the team. You just haven't met him yet, but you can trust him, and you'll be safe with him."

Alex was noticeably concerned but nodded.

"He's all yours," Craig said.

Charlie grinned. "Let's move."

Alex climbed into the cab of the delivery van with Charlie while Craig quickly disappeared back inside the service area. Charlie pulled out into traffic and headed out of the downtown area. It was starting to drizzle, so he turned on his wipers and set them to an intermittent mode.

Alex kept his head down slightly and stared at the clipboard with a few sheets of blank paper attached. He wondered about this man whom he'd never seen before. He seemed pleasant enough, but Alex finally had to ask, "Are you really a delivery guy?"

Charlie chuckled. "When I need to be – like right now." He chuckled again. "And welcome to the team, Alex," he said. "Nice to meet you at last. Craig is impressed and sees a lot of potential in you."

"Impressed? Potential? All I seem to do is screw things up, like today, and here we are."

Charlie laughed loudly.

"Can you tell me where we're going?" Alex asked.

"No."

Alex became silent.

"You'll be fine. Your boss and I have worked closely together for a few years. He's a good man and good at his job."

Alex nodded slightly but continued to stare at the clipboard as he responded. "He recruited me a few months before I started working at Global. I guess he thought I'd be a good fit here while headquarters continued with their quiet investigation. So, you know about Ray, right?"

Charlie didn't respond.

"I guess that means no."

Charlie chuckled. "It means we shouldn't talk about work right now."

"Can I look up now? My neck is starting to hurt."

"Okay. But eyes forward and do not look at any other vehicles. If I tell you to look down again, you just do it. No questions."

"Okay." Alex glanced at Charlie and noticed he kept checking his mirrors as they headed out of town. The windshield wipers continued to bat the drizzle off the windshield, pausing a few seconds between each swipe. Charlie merged their vehicle onto the interstate and headed south.

"It's gonna be a couple of hours to our destination," Charlie said, "so you can sit back and enjoy the ride and the view."

Alex relaxed a little and did just that. Traffic on the interstate was busy but not too congested. Eventually, they exited the main road and ended up on a two-lane winding road toward the Pacific coast.

"We're headed for the coast?" Alex asked.

Charlie nodded but began watching his mirrors.

Alex noticed and shifted his gaze just enough to see his side mirror. "Are we being followed?"

Charlie didn't respond. Instead, he quietly began to talk. "Cobra 35 to 92, code Skyhawk. I repeat, Cobra 35 to 92, code Skyhawk." He listened, then responded. "Copy that." Charlie glanced at Alex. "Not too far up ahead, be ready to do exactly what I tell you. you understand?" His tone was serious.

Alex was wide-eyed but responded, "Yes, sir."

"When I tell you to do so, release your seatbelt and get ready to vacate the van."

"What?"

"Just do what I tell you!" Charlie said, with urgency, as he kept his eyes on the road and the mirrors.

Alex kept his eyes focused ahead as they followed three other vehicles. Their pace was steady, but Alex's gut was already in a knot in anticipation of what felt like a desperate maneuver coming up. He snatched an occasional furtive glance at his side mirror while he continued to worry about Charlie's order. _Vacate the van? How could he do that with little to no clearance because of trees lining the side of the road?_

Alex checked his side mirror again and was startled to see a vehicle make a dangerous pass in a curve behind them. Other drivers honked their horns in disapproval just as another vehicle passed all of them going in the opposite direction.

Charlie muttered something under his breath as he maintained his course. A few minutes later, they rounded another curve and suddenly heard more horns honking. "Damn fools!" Charlie exclaimed. "They're going to get us all killed!" They crested a rise, and now the trees began to give way to grassier hillsides while traffic in both directions continued at a steady pace.

Alex noticed Charlie check his side mirror, then suddenly serve to the left, and just as quickly swing back into his lane again to avoid colliding with an oncoming car. He checked his mirror again, and so did Alex, who had no idea what Charlie's strange message meant, but given what had just happened, he sensed something dangerous was imminent.

# CHAPTER 26

Janet stared in surprise as Hector darted out the front door of their hideaway. "Where's he going? Why is he in such a hurry?" She ran to the open doorway and stared after him.

John rushed to her side. "He's not going far, and you can't stand here. Get back inside."

"But –"

"Inside. He'll be back soon." He pulled her back, then closed and locked the door. "Let's have something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," Janet said. I'm worried. Something's wrong. He didn't just jump up and run out of here for no reason. We're in danger, aren't we?"

"We'll be fine," John said. "Come on. Have something to eat."

"I said I'm not hungry!"

"Something to drink, then?"

_"NO!_ I'm scared!"

"You don't need to be. You're safe." He picked up his cup of coffee. "Then let's go stand at the windows and watch the rain."

"What?"

"The rain. It's interesting to watch the weather from up here. You can actually see the rain coming, and you never know what else you might see. Come on. Just for a few minutes."

Janet looked at him. "You're weird. Just tell me what's going on. I have a right to know!"

John calmly shook his head. "Again, with the name-calling. I've been called worse, but you're right. I do march to a different drummer sometimes. It's one of my charming characteristics." He gently led her to the windows. "In fact, most women love it."

"Well, not this woman. I just want to know is what's going on."

"You'll get used to me." His eyes twinkled. "You'll get used to all of us. And as for what's going on, you'll find out in a little while. Right now, let's watch the rain while we wait."

Hands-on-hips, Janet glared at him. "Get used to all of you? Don't hold your breath." She faced the windows. In spite of her frustration with John, she looked at an angry ocean and the incoming rainstorm. Clouds swirled around and hovered over the water a few miles out. She refused to admit it openly, but he was right; about watching the rain. Gray streaks ran from the clouds to the surface of the seawater. Some of the streaks were a darker gray – probably heavier rainfall, she guessed.

"Is it going to rain the rest of the day?" she asked.

"Looks that way. And probably on into the night, from what I heard earlier on the radio."

"How long do we have to stay here? At this place?"

He continued to stare out the window. "I don't know. It will depend on several things, but mostly on whatever Craig and the rest of us can find out about Ray and where he might be if he's still alive. If he's dead, we need to find out who's taken over his organization; who's in charge now."

Janet was quiet as she watched him and mulled over his remarks _. If Ray is dead, and who else may have taken over his organization?. What organization? Global? That didn't make sense_. She continued to watch him. _He's a nice guy_ , she thought, _and maybe not so weird, not really. But right this minute, he seems lonely. He's not really watching anything. He's thinking about something else. I can tell – some kind of secret, maybe a painful secret – and he attempts to cover it up by kidding around_.

"Do you have a family, John?" She hazarded the question.

He didn't answer right away. "Not really," he finally said. "These guys are my family. How about you?" He broke his gaze to look at her.

"I figured you already knew all about me."

He shrugged. "Just what we were told, like that stuff Craig shared. That's about it. But I have no idea about your hopes, dreams, or desires. Just facts. That's it."

"Well, I don't suppose there's a whole lot more to tell. I've led a pretty boring life, up until a couple of years ago, as you pointed out as part of the information Craig shared. I don't like to talk about most of that. It brings up very unpleasant memories."

He managed a smile. "I understand," he said and resumed watching the storm. The wind suddenly picked up. "They had better hurry and get back."

Janet didn't say anything as they continued to stand and watch the streaks become more intense and a darker gray. Rain pelted the windows, and she wondered about Hector's sudden departure.

"I need to batten down the hatches," he finally said and opened the door. A wet gust of wind rushed in as he quickly stepped outside to secure the closed table umbrella. He looked over the short stone wall to the beach below, then out at the storm before hurrying back inside.

"You're soaked," she said.

"I'll be okay." He went to the fireplace to stand and watch the flickering flames and dry his hands and clothes.

"Do you mind if I take a shower before Hector gets back?" Janet asked.

"No. You go ahead."

Moments later, John could hear the shower running. Climbing the stairs, he quietly checked her room. The door was unlocked. He frowned but carefully checked the bathroom door. Locked. "Good girl," he whispered and went back downstairs to wait and listen to the intermittent communication between Hector and Charlie via his earpiece.

Traffic forced Charlie to slow down considerably. Alex continued to watch ahead as they rounded a curve. The road straightened out for about an eighth of a mile before curving again. Cars behind were honking, but Alex couldn't see what was going on. It was for sure they couldn't drive any faster. Suddenly, Charlie cut in closer to the hillside then back toward the centerline again. Alex braced himself at the sudden movement of the van. Lines of cars on both sides of the road slowed for another curve. Charlie still watched his mirrors.

Overhead, Alex could now hear what sounded like a helicopter. It was close; like it was right on top of them. Another horn honked long and loud, and again Charlie cut to the side then back to the center. Alex desperately wanted to know what was going on but said nothing, and neither did Charlie who kept checking his mirrors.

Suddenly Charlie sat up straighter and looked ahead just as a helicopter swooped on over them. Get ready!" he said.

Alex was startled to see the helicopter and just as startled by Charlie's command. "Ready? For what?"

"No questions, remember? Just get ready. Get rid of that clipboard and unfasten your seatbelt. _Now!"_

"My seatbelt?"

"No questions, dammit!"

Alex tossed the clipboard in the back and removed his seatbelt then shoved one hand against the dashboard to brace himself. Suddenly the helicopter began to circle the road ahead, barely 200 hundred feet above the traffic then just as suddenly stopped and set down at a fairly wide spot on the side of the road ahead. Cars swerved. Horns honked and drivers shook fists at each other and the helicopter.

"When I stop, you jump out and run straight for that chopper. You understand?"

"Wha – I mean, y-yeah."

"And I mean _run!_ Get in on the left side, the side nearest the road, then belt up and hang on!"

A dozen questions raced through Alex's mind, but he kept his mouth shut this time. Another fifty feet to go and then they were directly across from the helicopter, it's rotors still fully engaged.

Charlie pulled over slightly and shouted, _"Go!"_

Alex was out the door and slammed it shut as he raced to the helicopter. He fumbled with the door but got it open and barely had it shut when they lifted off and over the line of cars on the road. The pilot veered south over the coastal hills leaving Charlie, the van, and the line of cars behind.

"What's going on and what's going to happen to Charlie?" Alex's voice was tense as he struggled to belt up.

The pilot tapped his arm and pointed to a set of headphones dangling on a hook, then tapped his own.

Alex quickly put them on and adjusted the small microphone in front of his mouth.

"You had a question?" the pilot asked.

"Charlie. What about _him_?"

"He'll be okay," the pilot said.

"And who are you?"

"Hector. Nice to meet you, Alex."

Alex was surprised. "You know who I am?"

"I do."

"Where are we going?"

"Someplace safe. You'll see soon enough."

Hector continued to pilot his aircraft south for five miles before banking west out over the ocean and into the coming storm. He then circled back around to the north, paralleling the coastline. Rain pelted the aircraft, driven in continuous flattened streaks across the windshield. Alex gripped the shoulder strap of his safety belt as the aircraft lurched and shook against the violence of the storm. He watched Hector, intense and focused, as he handled the controls. At his feet, Alex could see through the window in the floor. Angry waves surged toward the coastline as the fierce weather front unmercifully closed in.

Adrenaline surged as the aircraft bore the effects of the buffeting winds and rain. Hector skillfully maintained their course as the helicopter continued on into the increasingly violent storm. Although terrified, Alex was very grateful for and highly impressed with, Hector's obvious experienced piloting skills. He'd ridden in a helicopter on a few occasions before but never had he experienced a flight in a storm like this one.

They continued north until Hector circled once along a particular area of coastline before he carefully began a vertical descent alongside a bluff. He fought the winds to keep from getting slammed into the steep hillside as they slowly approached a narrow beach. Although not generous in size, Alex hoped it was wide enough for the aircraft to land in relative safety. As they descended, Alex could see a house perched on the rim above the beach. Below, waves surged onto the fringes of the drenched sand. He could also see a long set of wooden and weathered stairs leading from the beach to the top of the bluff.

"Remove your headset and get ready to hop out!" Hector commanded over the roar of the spinning blades and the storm. "Make sure you close the door firmly then run for those stairs and get up to the house. John will be waiting for you."

Alex did as he was told and waited while Hector worked the controls. The aircraft landed hard, but Hector kept the blades turning as Alex jumped out, slammed the door shut, ducked down and raced for the stairs. Waves licked at the landing skids of the helicopter and his feet. Once on the third tread, he turned to watch as Hector had already lifted off and banked sharply out over the angry sea into the wind, and away from the bluff.

Confident Hector was safely up and away, Alex hurriedly climbed the steps, two at a time. Halfway up, he heard someone shout to him. He stopped to look up. A man waved at him to hurry which he did, reaching the top, out of breath, his overalls drenched.

John quickly introduced himself and hustled Alex inside, closing and securing the French doors. "Sorry about all the excitement," he said once they were inside, "but it was the best option we had." He noticed Alex's expression. "You okay? Ever ride in a helicopter before?"

Still bewildered, Alex shook his head then nodded. "Yes, I've flown in a chopper a few times, just never in a storm like this." He watched out the windows. "I don't think I ever want to again, although I have to say Hector's piloting skills are amazing." He kept watching the storm. "Those things are –"

"Awesome! Right?" John interrupted. "I can understand about the storm, but still, you either love 'em or hate 'em – choppers, that is." He grinned. "Don't worry. You'll get used to them."

Alex stood with his mouth open for a second. "I will?" He wasn't sure what to make of John or his remark but took a moment to look around. "Okay, so where am I? Craig didn't say anything about this."

"I know. It was a safety precaution, and you've been reassigned. You'll be working from here for a while." John started to elaborate a little when they heard someone call out.

"John?

Alex looked toward the stairs in recognition of a familiar voice and was excited at the sight of Janet coming downstairs, her hair wrapped in a towel. He moved in her direction. "Janet!" He flashed an excited grin. "Janet!"

She stopped midway down to stare for a moment then hurried the rest of the way and straight into his arms, her towel falling to the floor. "Alex! Alex! I'm so glad you're here!" she said. "I'm so glad you're here!"

"You are?" he asked, admiring her damp hair clinging to her neck and shoulders.

"Yes," she said and pulled away. "I guess you met Hector and this is John." She pointed. "They're both crazy, but that's okay."

John laughed. "She keeps coming up with exaggerated descriptions of us, but we don't mind. I really am a nice guy." He grinned. "Most of the time."

Janet stared at Alex. "You're soaking wet. You need to take a hot shower and get into some dry clothes right now." She looked at John.

"Come with me," he said and motioned for Alex to follow him upstairs. John returned a short while later. "Alex is in the room across from yours."

She gave him a quizzical look. "You were expecting him."

"Yup."

An hour later, John was on his feet and hurried to the front door. He had it unlocked and opened just in time to allow Hector and Charlie to hurry inside. They were chatting happily and greeted John with their customary manly hugs and back slaps.

John grinned. "What took so long?"

Hector was excited. "You should have seen it!"

"Tell me!"

"So, Charlie's driving this delivery van like a wild man on that winding road, and I'm sticking with him overhead. I had to stay hight for a while because of all the trees, but I could tell a sedan, about two cars back from where he was, kept trying to pass all these other cars to get closer to him, but there was too much opposing traffic. So, everyone is creeping along – you know how it usually gets bottlenecked in that area – then all of a sudden I see the sedan jerk to the right and pass one car on the shoulder. It was tight, and he's kicking up dirt and rocks. Then he does it again. Those other cars are trying to get out of its way and not end up in a head-on collision with oncoming traffic. Now he's right behind Charlie and following close."

"Yeah," Charlie said. "Too close. I was having a hard time seeing them in the mirrors; they were so damn close."

"That's because they were right on your bumper, man!" Hector was animated and excited as he retold the event. "So, the road crests a hill, you know, and the trees thin out, and then I dip down and start doing a sideways thing looking right at the driver," he said as he gestured and made body moves to illustrate his story. "I had to be careful because of power lines, but he's looking at me. Then he's looking at the van. So, I up-and-over him. I mean, I'm like five feet above the roof of his car. He swerves a little then I come around and do it again."

Janet was listening and watching in complete shock. "That sounds like a really stupid and dangerous thing to do, Hector." She gave him a thoroughly disgusted look.

He stopped and looked at her for a moment not realizing she was in the room. "Yeah. Well as I was saying –" he grinned and she rolled her eyes, as he continued, "I did it again except there's no way he's gonna get around Charlie because the road gets even more narrow and there are more cars, and the hillside is _right there!_ " He gestured with his hands.

He looked at Janet again. She scowled at him just as Alex hurried downstairs to join them, grinning ear to ear.

Hector halted his story and looked at Janet. "If you don't want to listen, you and your boyfriend can go sit somewhere else."

Janet glared. "He's not my boyfriend! Just a friend from work. And yes, we can go someplace else."

Alex hesitated and looked at her apologetically. "Uh, Janet, well, actually, I'd kinda like to hear what else he has to say because I was sorta right there too, you know?"

Hector looked satisfied. "It's a guy thing," he said to Janet. "Come on over here, Alex. Have a seat." Alex joined the rest of the men as Hector gave a recap of what he'd already shared then continued with his account complete with animation.

Although Charlie was enjoying himself as well, he went to Janet who was now in the kitchen. He could tell she was crying.

She glanced over her shoulder then looked away. "You don't have to babysit me."

"I know. I'm sorry Hector upset you. He didn't mean to. It's just that these guys have been doing this kind of stuff for years. They thrive on it. And they're not all that used to having a new audience, but especially a woman around to –"

She whipped around. "To scold them and treat them like little boys?"

"Something like that."

"And what about you? Why aren't you in there _thriving_ on it too?" She stopped and stared. "And who _are_ you?"

He laughed. "I'm Charlie." He extended his hand, but she stayed put and folded her arms. He shoved his hand in a pocket. "Okay, well like I said it's what we do. And I know this must be difficult, with all the sneaking around and hiding out." He grinned attempting to soften the moment.

"Why is Alex here?"

"He's in danger too."

Her face paled. "What do mean? Why is he in danger? How?"

"I'll let him explain – later. Right now, he's working on an adrenalin rush. Once it wears off, he'll need you to help orient him and get adjusted to all of this."

Janet leaned against a counter but gazed across the large room to the windows and French doors. Heavy rain pelted them as the storm raced in. She let out a sigh and wiped her face. "I'm not even adjusted to all of this."

"You gonna be okay?"

She looked at Charlie. His face was kind, and he seemed to be genuinely interested in her well-being. "I don't know," she said. "So, you're one of them too?"

"One of them?" His smile betrayed a measure of amusement.

"Don't laugh at me. You know what I mean. A spy or something?"

"A spy? I wouldn't call it that. I drive a limo and just listen to people talk. You never know what you can learn just listening to people talk about stuff. All kinds of stuff."

"Mmm-hmm," she replied but would not allow a smile to cross her face.

He grinned anyway. "I think I'll go join the others for a while." He paused. "Things will get better. They usually do."

"We'll see," she said and watched Charlie as he walked away. She suddenly felt very alone and decided to return to her room. Once there, she softly closed the door and sat on her bed. Tears came and cascaded down her face, dripping onto her shirt. "I just want to go home." She lay down and wiped her eyes as she stared at the ceiling, thinking about her life, such as it was. Never had she felt so isolated and alone as she did at that moment, even now, with Alex in the house.

Janet awoke suddenly and realized she had dozed off. She could hear the same animated chatter downstairs, though not as loud. She climbed out of bed then crept to her door and opened it slightly to listen. She could tell someone else had arrived and closed her door. She had no desire to mingle; certain the conversation would not include her. "They don't want me around. I'm just an assignment. An _asset_ to be milked for information. Men." She lay down and rolled over to face her window and listen to the storm outside.

A few minutes later, there was a light tap at her door and voice softly calling her name. "Janet?"

She sat up but remained still.

"It's Craig. Are you asleep?"

She got up. _Craig's back!_ She hesitated a moment then went to her door and opened it a few inches.

He smiled. "May I come in?"

She nodded and pulled the door open. Her eyes were puffy, and her face stained from crying.

He gently reached to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. "How are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"Not so good."

"Surprised to see Alex?"

"Yes."

"Do you know why he's here?"

"Charlie said he's in danger."

"He is."

Janet's chin trembled, and she started to cry again. "Why do I feel like this is all my fault?"

"It isn't," Craig said. "Can we sit?"

She nodded.

He led her to the bed and sat next to her, then put his arm around her. "None of this is your fault. I know a lot has happened all too fast, and I wish I could make it all go away." He brushed stray hairs out of her face.

She nodded but wasn't convinced.

Craig gently pulled her closer.

She didn't resist but was uncomfortable with this sudden expression of tenderness.

"Janet," he said. "It is imperative that you trust my team and me."

She tried to pull back.

He held on for another split second then released her.

She scooted away from him a few inches. "I don't know who to trust. Believe me, I do want to trust someone, but I just seem to get into trouble when I do. Or at least it feels that way. I trusted a man at Cold Creek, but he kept me prisoner in a cave. I trusted Officer Perez, but she turned me over to two evil men. And that's just for starters. Now you want me to trust you and these other guys, but I feel like I'm a prisoner here too. So why should I trust them or you?" She let out a disgusted laugh. "I mean John and Hector are always kidding around and like to tease me. But they won't answer my questions, and then Charlie says all he does is just drive a limo and listen to people talk about stuff."

Craig chuckled. "I can assure you Charlie does much more than that." He stared at the floor for a moment then let out a heavy sigh. "Things are happening, Janet. A lot of things. And unfortunately, you've been pulled into to some of it. You and Alex."

She watched him but said nothing.

"Greg Danes kept you in that cave to protect you. John and Hector kid around a lot because it's how they handle the stressors of their work. It's just who they are. They've worked together for so many years; it's just how they get along. As for Charlie, he's probably the most trustworthy of us all. He's a good man. I've known him and worked with him for years, and you can trust him."

Janet got up and stepped away. "Trust. That's an interesting word. You know, I still have flashbacks. About Cold Creek and the Quail Club. Frightening nightmares. So, all of this other stuff isn't helping any." She eyed him. "You mentioned Greg Danes. Were you part of that raid at the Quail Club a couple of years ago?"

He shook his head. "No. I was in London." He patted the bed. "Come back and sit with me."

She held her place. "You're not going to – you know, try to –"

His eyes softened. "Never. I would never do anything like that to you. I couldn't. Please sit with me."

She hesitated then reluctantly sat down but kept several inches between them.

"We work as a team, Janet, but up until about a year ago, I'd been in Europe; England mostly with side trips to the continent."

"Continent?"

"France and Germany, mostly."

"With Global."

"Yes and no."

She gazed into his eyes, wishing she could read his thoughts.

He sensed her questions. "It's complicated. I wish I could tell you more, but a lot of it is classified or missing enough information that even we don't know as much as we'd like. To share some of that would be meaningless to you unless you had a few years background already."

She sighed and looked away. "Right. Classified. More secrets." Her faced clouded.

Craig carefully reached for her and put his arm around her.

She stiffened but didn't move.

"I just want to keep you safe, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you are."

Her breathing became choppy, and her body shook a little as she struggled with her emotions. " _Why_ do you care so much about me?"

He let go and stood up.

"Why can't you at least tell me that?" She wiped at her face and stood up as well, her eyes pleading.

"Let's go downstairs and join the others. I think Alex would like that."

"I doubt it. He seemed more interested in being around the guys and talking about the helicopter and everything."

"You want to wash your face with some warm water first? I'll wait."

She sniffed and realized their conversation was over. "Just like that. Change the subject. You go ahead. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Face washed and hair straightened up, Janet slowly made her way downstairs, carefully listening, uncertain what to expect. Hector was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm sorry, Janet. Didn't mean to upset you. It's just –"

She quickly shook her head. "It's not your fault. It's me. I'm too sensitive. Too wimpy."

John was on his feet. "You're anything _but_ wimpy! Think about everything you've been through for the past two years or more. You've got the fight in you and spunk. Like I said before, I like it." He winked then pointed his finger at her. "Don't change!"

She struggled to suppress a smile but lost then drew in a deep breath and exhaled as she surveyed the room of men, now all on their feet and watching her.

"Are any of you married? Been married? Have girlfriends? Sisters even? I mean, do you even understand women at all?" She sniffed and struggled to maintain her composure.

Hector and John looked at each other. Their expressions betrayed something between them. Janet wondered but chose not to say anything.

Charlie chuckled. "Janet. We've all been in relationships, some of us have been married, so in answer to your question, we do have a marginal understanding of women. Truth is, you ladies are generally unpredictable, emotional, determined, smart – and a whole lot more. We sometimes get a little embarrassed, maybe a little intimidated when a woman outsmarts us."

I haven't outsmarted any of you. I annoy you more than anything, with all my questions." She sniffed and continued to fight back tears, determined to maintain control of her emotions.

Hector took her hand then pulled her close and gave her a big hug. "Don't ever change," he whispered in her ear. He released her and pulled back. "I vote for Janet Feldman to be our official little sister!"

The others grinned and agreed.

She pushed him away. "Don't tease me."

"Not teasing," he said. "In fact, I strongly believe that if we could figure out how to stop all of this craziness – today; pack up our tents; move on; every one of us – gone and way from each other, we'd miss you, and you'd miss us. I'm serious."

Janet looked from man to man, not completely convinced.

Each grinned and nodded, except Alex.

"Uh, guys," Alex said. "I don't want a sister." He smiled at Janet. "I'd just like to keep on being her friend. A good friend."

"Done," Craig said. "It's official, Janet. Welcome to the family, friends included."

She looked at him. "Okay. So, now that I'm officially a member of the family – no more secrets?"

Craig eyed her thoughtfully and smiled. "There are some things I'd like to share with you in the coming days. I've hesitated because even though we've done a rather in-depth investigation of you, and to some degree, we have vetted you, but not entirely. We still need to know if we can trust _you_."

Her eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean, trust me?"

"Well, for one thing, we can't afford for you to sneak off or try to get away from us similar to Greg."

John, Hector, and Charlie laughed heartily.

Craig grinned. "Yeah, he doesn't like it when we bring it up. He has no idea how you managed to get out of there by yourself and not get lost in those caverns forever.

Her look suggested skepticism, but she let it pass.

John beamed. "You're something else, you know? Like I keep saying, spunky. But I might add you are clever, and with a determination to get to the bottom of things. Sort out bits and pieces of information. Come to conclusions."

Janet gawked at him. "Okay, that's enough, but thank you – I think." She contemplated his remarks.

"We don't want to keep secrets," Hector said. "But to be honest, we don't always know how to respond because one answer will lead to a lot more questions, a gift you have mastered, by the way, because questions from you always seem to lead to more questions. Sometimes _we_ don't know the answer."

Her mind was racing. "This isn't just about Global, is it? There's something else. Otherwise, I wouldn't be looking at five men all insisting I trust them. All expressing a great desire to protect me. All trying to butter me up with a flurry of compliments. I can't believe that in my short time at Global I would have been put into a position of danger anymore that anyone else working there." She stopped and looked at Alex. "Except you. Now they say you are also in danger." She looked from man to man. "But I still think there's more to this than just Global."

Alex shifted his weight uncomfortably and looked at his companions then they all looked at Craig.

So did Janet. Her eyes narrowed. "Trust is a two-way street. I promise not to run off, provided all of you don't give me a good reason to." She focused on Craig. "You, in particular."

"Deal," he said. "So, does this mean we're on a different level now. More trust?"

"You know – I'm beginning to hate that word, but for now, yes, and it's still conditional." She smiled. "And speaking of my gift, as Hector put it, I do have another question."

That produced a collective moan.

Craig nodded. "Of course, you do. What is it?" His eyes danced.

_"Why_ is Alex in danger now too?"

"Ah, yes. Alex. Okay. I'll do my best to answer your question." He looked toward the front door. "Do I have to answer right now?"

"It would be a nice gesture of _trust_ if you did," she said then repositioned herself between him and the door.

John laughed. "She got you there, boss."

Janet looked at John. "Oh, and that brings up another question."

Craig threw up one hand. "Okay, wait. One question a day is about all I can handle from you." He grinned. "You really think you can stop me from leaving?"

"Try me."

He frowned. "I'd rather not."

"Then, I have two questions you must answer before you can leave."

He let out another sigh. "You know, your questions may be simple, but the answers usually are not."

"Oh, come on. You're the big boss. And that's my second question. Why do they all refer to you as a boss?"

Dead silence.

Craig looked at his men then back at Janet. "It's just a misuse of the word."

Hector looked away. Charlie looked at John who gave a slight shrug. Alex simply had a blank look on his face.

"The truth would be best right now if having a mutual trust is essential to our working relationship – yours and mine," she said and waited for Craig to respond. "Is it really that difficult? Are you their boss or not? A simple yes or no would do."

John plastered a silly grin on his face. "You know, I kinda like the idea of you being our little sister. You can keep us all in line."

"No. I can't!" She snapped at him. "If I am so doggone important to you, the mere fact that no one will answer a few, directed, pointed, and I-need-to-know-right-this-very-minute kinds of questions and I mean solid answers – well that, alone, is quite telling. You talk about trust. You talk about truth. I'm inclined to believe that all of you are up to no good. You want me to trust you, and yet, you refuse to answer my questions. You refuse to let me know what the _hell_ is going on! I feel left out and not at all a part of your so-called _family_."

John recoiled. "Did you just say, hell?" He looked at the others. "Did she just say, hell?"

"Stop it!" She glared at John.

Craig came to her rescue. "Okay. Enough." He heaved a very heavy sigh. "Janet."

"Don't string me along."

"Will you just give me a minute? Please." He wasn't smiling. "I realize – we all realize – you have been through a lot. Starting with Cold Creek. We know that. And, you're right. All of this isn't helping you cope. We get that. The problem is, any answers I could possibly give you right this minute will only lead to other questions we have no answers for. At least not yet. We are working on it. Even Alex doesn't know everything. In fact, he may be only a couple of steps ahead of you when it comes to knowing anything more."

She looked at Alex and back at Craig, her brow furrowed and laced with more unspoken questions.

"Yes," he said. "I know that comment just spawned another slew of questions, but I will do my best to answer at least one of them. Alex is a trainee, a protégé. We're grooming him for possible inclusion on our team in a more permanent way. But he still has a lot to learn. Even he would admit to that."

Janet looked at Alex, and he nodded.

She returned her attention to Craig. "Are you grooming me too?" she asked.

"You? Oh, gosh no. I don't want you to be a part of what we do."

"Which is?"

He smiled at his indirect admission and her immediate response.

"You're losing your touch, Craig," Charlie said and chuckled. "She doesn't miss a beat."

Craig composed himself, but still, let a tiny grin cross his face. "What we do is dangerous work. We deal with very nasty lethal people. Unfortunately, you got caught up in some of what they have done and continue to do, especially when you made that desperate attempt to rescue your friend."

"But it wasn't just an attempt," she said. "We _did_ rescue her."

"I know, and that's part of the issue. You were successful. You. Janet Feldman. Unfortunately, and notwithstanding your efforts, your friend is so damaged from her horrific experience at the Quail Club that no one knows for sure if she'll ever recover. Mentally. Emotionally, and in some ways even physically. That's how dangerous these people are. They use others and could care less about what happens to them."

Janet froze. "How do you know this? About Sally, I mean, and how she's doing. How do you know?"

Craig knew he had to tread carefully. "Once the episode at Global took place, and it involved you, and because she was a good friend of yours, Greg decided to do some checking and was able to get some information about her, but not much other than what I just told you."

"Greg Danes."

"Yes. He's been worried about you. He worries about your mental and emotional health. And he is deeply sorry for causing any additional trauma to your life in his efforts to keep you safe from Sheriff Wilcox, who, by the way, worked for Ray."

She blanched and looked away, her thoughts tumbling. Then suddenly her face froze, and she muttered, "My job at Global," she began then frowned. "Ray." She looked at Craig with a shock of realization. "He already knew about me. The all-expenses-paid flight and stay in San Francisco. The job interview and getting hired –"

"Was a clever way to get you close to him to find out what you knew and how it might compromise his operation."

"But I didn't really know anything about his operation. I didn't know anything about him. I'd never seen him before my interview."

"We know. But he didn't."

She looked at everyone. "Was _he_ at the Quail Club that night? Did he see me?"

"We don't know."

Janet needed to sit down and headed for the sofa. "He was on a fishing expedition when he hired me. But he never asked me any questions about the business at the Quail Club. I didn't talk about to anyone about it. I didn't want to. And as for my work, he didn't care about the type of work I could do, did he? He just kept throwing me off guard. I mean, when we'd get fairly involved in a project, it wasn't unusual for him to switch me to something else. That happened a lot. I mean, I was juggling up to fifteen contracts at one time, and he'd frequently stop the work on one to tackle another one." She looked at Alex. "Right?"

"Yeah. I remember asking you one day how many you had on your desk. I think you said fifteen."

Janet looked at Craig. "Was he trying to rattle me? Get me to explode in a fit of rage that would push me to somehow allude to that incident at Cold Creek?"

Craig joined her on the sofa, and the others also took seats to listen. Craig picked up the conversation. "I don't know but after we went through all the files – all the contracts that you worked on with him, we discovered most of them were dummy accounts. Nothing to them. All bogus. The only significant ones were the few that he handled himself. The ones you said he kept track of on a separate ledger."

She nodded but frowned. "Okay, but how come headquarters didn't question any of those bogus accounts? I sent every one of those completed contracts, or so I thought they were completed, to headquarters for their final execution."

Alex raised his hand and immediately pulled it down, embarrassed.

Craig smiled. "Yes, Alex."

"I think I may have an answer to that. Hazel. She handled all the mail in the office. She could have easily pulled out anything going to headquarters if Ray told her to."

"Interesting thought and, yes, she certainly could have done that, however, we're beginning to think that carefully tucked within some of those so-called contracts were coded messages, or other deals Ray was working, something like that. Things that only a few others would have picked up on. The truth is, it appears nearly every executive officer at Global Headquarters is involved in an attempt to engage in a hostile takeover of the company, its operations, and funding – but surreptitiously. All but one. The CEO. He's been with the company for years and is loyal to the original owners and their honest intentions for the company.

"He contacted me through a mutual acquaintance and asked if I would accept an assignment for him. When I agreed, he asked me to move to San Francisco for a short time and see what I could find out about Ray's activity, but quietly. He didn't want to tip his hand. He just needed confirmation of his suspicions. It was a scouting type of assignment.

"By the time I was asked to cover the office after Ray's disappearance, I'd been living in the City for just under a year. For me, it was a blessing in disguise to step in because it gave me direct access to more details of what has been going on at this office."

Janet listened with great interest, trying to grasp the significance of it all, then expressed her anger toward Ray. "So, all that work. All of the frustration, the yelling, and barking of orders; his belligerence. His disrespect of everyone else. His disgusting habits, all of that was his charming way of taking over the entire company?"

Craig let out a sigh. "Charming or otherwise, yes. Because by now, he already had a major interest, if you will, in the control of the company. He'd been buying up multiple blocks of stocks, using company funds through the manipulation of the company's own assets. As growth continued, he'd occasionally sell some of those shares and deposit the funds in untouchable offshore accounts. One by one, he introduced these other executives to the scheme and they began to do the same. But in my quiet investigation of the activity of those executives, I discovered that three suddenly resigned and soon after that died. All three deaths were ruled suicides."

"Do you believe they were suicides?" Janet asked.

"I have some doubts, but without proof, I can't say for sure."

Hector shifted and re-crossed his legs. "Wow," he said. "Didn't anybody do any audits or anything like that?"

"Well, if they did, they either had no idea what they were looking at or were part of the deception."

"Hmm. And I thought we were just here to keep an eye on Janet for a while."

Craig chuckled. "You are, and for more than just a while, but we do have other work to do."

Everyone stared at Craig.

"Janet," he said. "You insist that is there is more to this than I have revealed, and you're right, but I'm not even sure of the full extent of it. I have a couple of European contacts who are quietly working with me as well. They are following some sketchy leads we've gotten over there. I wish I had someone I could trust to do likewise in Asia, but I don't and my grasp of the Chinese language is very rough, other than general courtesies and simple requests for directions."

Charlie let out a soft whistle. "This is quite a mess, isn't it? I mean if you're suggesting what I think you are, except for the GHD part, Global is exactly what his underworld company is all about."

"Yes, well the founders were honest men, so the name speaks of an era when the company was legitimate. It still elicits a measure of trust from other companies who currently do, or might want to do, business with Global. Ray isn't stupid."

Janet exhaled heavily and slowly shook her head. "If Ray is so evil, how did he manage to get on with Global in the first place?"

Craig hesitated before answering. "Years ago, he began to build his organization – obviously a criminal one. He managed to get hired with Global, after touting his expertise, his ingenuity, and whatever else he liberally laced his resume with. The founders were impressed with his background. And in those days, background checks, like companies go through today, didn't exist. You were as good as your resume and reference checks provided. He started off as a member of their growing finance department, which was perfect for him. He carefully studied every aspect of the original company's financial practices and procedures. In fact, in those days, a lot of their business was performed on handshake deals that both parties honored. Back then, these men grew up in an era of handshake deals. It was how business was done.

But Ray had other ideas based on one sole purpose, and that was to eventually take over the company and quietly merge it with his. What he discovered was a lucrative way to fund his outside interest with income streams generated through Global's activities. He found clever ways to disguise his fund-shifting and it went on for years, evidently. By the way, this information came from the current CEO. He managed to extract documents from a few decades in the past to add to the more recent ones he'd provided me.

"I don't claim to be a financial whiz, but I was able to begin to see a vague pattern of bookkeeping discrepancies emerge soon after Ray started working for them. How any of it got past an auditor, I have no idea, but you have to understand that Gerrard, Hannity, and Davis started their company with every intention of being able to help and support legitimate and viable companies with the security they needed.

Ray, as I've pointed out, had a much different vision. Over time, he skillfully led company leadership down a rosy path. For most people desiring the same outcome as Ray, his method would have been excruciatingly slow. If I had to give Ray credit for anything, it would be his incredible patience because he had a much bigger plan in mind and patience was the key.

"For example, and Charlie, this would address something you just brought up, about the company name. It has changed a couple of times, ultimately to the one it operates under now. And during these minor changes, at least from anyone else's perspective, Ray managed to cleverly entice company executives, one by one, to follow his way of thinking. It appears that all this was accomplished through the lure of personal capital gains as he continued to nudge the whole process to reshape and transform Global into a very different animal."

He paused a moment before continuing. "With a years-long track record of reliability and building trust, they've been successful at soliciting new business year after year. As such, stock in the company continued to increase in value, and when it would reach a target point Ray was waiting for, he would put into motion other changes that included opening new so-called departments – all in need of funding. As time went on, and as profits continued to increase, no one questioned Rays acute ability to run his side of the business. It appeared to be making the company money, and a healthy bottom line is what every investor wants to see.

"So when the current CEO and I spoke, I asked him what triggered his concerns." Craig let out a chuckle. "It was something as simple as a remark he overheard at a company party. That's when, out of simple curiosity, he started to take a rather casual look at the finances of the company. To him, things looked just fine. But he didn't stop there and began to look at a longer stretch of the company's history. At the first hint that something might be amiss, he realized he needed to make sure no one suspected him of closer scrutiny. His gut told him to tread very carefully.

Craig paused again. "I'm worried about his safety. I'm worried that Ray has gotten suspicious primarily because I know Ray's methods and his degree of patience. He'll bide his time and wait for just the right moment to take care of this gentleman, who is probably the last vestige of honesty at the executive level of the company and Ray's last obstacle in the way of a full and complete takeover."

Hector stiffened. "Shouldn't we do something to protect this guy? Even extract him?"

Craig frowned. "You'd think so, but it's complicated. He has a large family. Wife. Kids. Grandkids; all of whom might be construed as loose ends – at least to Ray."

Janet was beside herself. "You mean he'd have them all killed?"

"Possibly. And the other piece is that two of this gentleman's grown sons also work for Global and in the Virginia office."

Hector nodded. "I see your point. Extracting one guy is one thing, but a group of people is an entirely different situation."

"Yes, it is."

Charlie cleared his throat before asking the obvious question. "Are his sons part of this mess? I mean, have they been _lured over_ , as you say?"

Craig nodded. "It seems so."

Charlie let out his trademark low whistle.

Hector's mind was working an idea. "What about his marriage? Solid?"

"I'm not sure," Craig said. "She seems to enjoy the lavish lifestyle they live. They have a very nice home. Big. Splendid. Expensive."

Hector nodded. "Well, if, for some reason, things aren't so happily-ever-after in his marriage, I have an idea."

Craig eyed him. "Tell me. I'm interested to know if it's similar to one I have."

Hector grinned. " _We_ kill this guy."

Janet gasped and was on her feet in an instant. _"What! How is that going to help!"_ She charged him and stood facing him toe-to-toe shaking her finger in his face. _"How dare you suggest such a thing!"_ She shouted then poked his chest. She stormed over to Craig. _"That is the most hideous thing I can think of! Murdering people. Innocent people! Why would any of you do such a thing?"_ She stepped back. "I do not want to work with you or for you. Not at all. Not if you all are going to behave in the same sinister way that Ray apparently is!

Craig grabbed her arms. "Janet! We are not going to kill anyone!" He let go of her. "That was Hector's _unique_ way of suggesting we _extract_ him and make it look like he died!"

She looked back at Hector.

He put up his hands in a defensive gesture. "I'm sorry. What Craig said is exactly what I meant."

Alex hurried to Janet's side. "Come on. Maybe you and I should go upstairs for a few minutes." He took her by the hand.

Everyone watched until they were out of sight and heard a door close.

Hector let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, boss."

"I know. She's not used to us and how we cope with situations like this. We just have to be careful what we say around her and how we say it."

Upstairs, Alex held tightly to Janet and let her sob. She kept mumbling things, incoherently, while he assured her everything would be okay.

She looked up at him, her face wet and stained. "How long have you been a part of the team, as Craig calls it?"

"A while."

"And you trust them. All of them."

He nodded. "I do."

She looked into his eyes with a penetrating gaze.

It forced him to blink.

"But how can I be sure I can trust _you?_ "

Downstairs, John was on his feet and pacing a little. "You know, as much as I do like her, I'm not sure she's ready to work with us. She's still dealing with issues about that Quail Club thing and her friend."

Charlie stood to stretch and nodded. "I think you're right." He looked at Craig, who was staring at nothing in particular. Charlie knew it meant he was thinking about something which meant to leave him alone for now.

Craig finally got up and walked to the kitchen.

Hector joined John and Charlie, and the three of them huddled around the fireplace but didn't say much.

"I think they have a connection, Alex and Janet, that is," Hector said.

"Yeah," Charlie agreed. "Appears so, and that's a good thing."

Moments later, they heard treads squeak, as Alex and Janet headed back downstairs. The others quickly sat down, except Craig, who stayed in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee.

Janet immediately apologized to the men for her outburst then noticed Craig in the kitchen. She approached him. "I'm sorry. Alex helped explain things a little, but I don't think you want me to be part of this group. I'm too emotional. Too unpredictable. I'd be more trouble than I'd be of worth to you."

Craig set his coffee cup down and held out a hand. She accepted it, and he gently pulled her closer to him. "This was all my fault," he said. "I'm throwing too much at you too soon. Those guys can handle it. They've worked on things like this before. It isn't new. Hector has a special kind of sarcastic humor, I guess you'd say. We all knew what he meant because we've handled a couple of other situations in the same way."

She nodded and stared at the floor, embarrassed.

He tilted her chin up. "It's okay. We understand, and no one is going to feel any differently about you. We all like you. We do care, and we do want to continue to shelter you. Protect you. And that's what we want to do for that CEO. He's a very nice guy with good intentions, but I don't want him to suffer any unnecessary consequences based on his concerns for the company, any more than we want you to encounter anything unfortunate either." He grinned. "Actually, Hector's idea is a good one and the same thought that I had. I just might have stated it differently." He grinned. "We simply create a scenario and get him out before it's too late – but only if he agrees to it."

She nodded. "Okay, but how do I fit into all of this? Just because I wanted to save my friend Sally? That seems like such an out-of-left-field kind of concern. I had no idea about Ray then. I never saw him before. And if I had never attended that Bel Air party with Sally, we wouldn't all be here having these conversations."

Craig took her back to the living room. The others quickly stood up but Craig motioned them to sit down. Once Janet was also seated, he continued. "Now that we've all had a chance to clear the air, let's work on an extraction plan I can pitch to our CEO. I think I should arrange to meet with him on neutral ground somewhere, like the first time, so I'll take care of making those arrangements. In the meantime, the rest of you stay holed up here until you hear from me. Agreed?"

All nodded, except for Janet.

"Janet?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'll stay because I have no place else to go."

The conversation switched to food when Hector suddenly held up a hand indicating everyone should be still. It was then Janet and Alex could hear a quiet beeping sound that kept repeating.

Craig gave hand signals to Janet and Alex to get upstairs, while the others took up positions at doors and windows. "Lock yourselves in and keep the lights off," he whispered to Alex as he drew a concealed weapon. The others already had their weapons drawn.

Alex had Janet by the hand, pulling her upstairs as quickly as possible. They hurried inside her room and locked the door.

"Stay away from the window," he said.

Terrified, Janet sat on the floor and listened intently. Alex was low but had his ear pressed to the door.

"I can't hear anything," he whispered.

All had become quiet except for the sound of the wind picking up in advance of the brunt of the coming storm and the sound of the rain as it pelted the roof in waves. Alex joined Janet on the floor and put his arm around her.

"Now what's happening?" she whispered.

# CHAPTER 27

Janet and Alex huddled in the darkened room. Gunfire suddenly erupted downstairs along with shouting. Both were instantly terrified.

"We have to get out of here," Alex whispered in her ear. "We're not safe."

"But Craig said to stay upstairs."

"I know, but based on what we're hearing downstairs, the house has been compromised. And if our guys can't hold them off, we'll be discovered."

"You think Ray is behind this?" she asked then winced as more gunfire ensued.

"No question about it and if whoever is down there finds us, they'll kill us.

Janet clung to him tightly. "Where would we go?"

"Out the window. We'll climb out and get away from the house."

"But we're on the second floor. Besides, there's no place to go. We're miles from any town and with this weather –"

"We'll go down to the beach and hide. That's how I got here. Hector landed on the beach after he rescued me. Once we get down there, we can find a place to hide or get back up to the road – or to another house and call for help. We just can't stay here. It isn't safe."

An intense gunfight continued downstairs.

"We can do this, Janet. You gotta trust me. I'll protect you. I promise. Come on."

"I hate that word," she said to herself.

Alex got up and crept to the window, barely parting the drapes. He could see the entry patio and the driveway beyond but no people. Rain fell more heavily now as he surveyed their options. The first floor of the house spread out beyond the walls of the upper floor by about five feet and extended around the north side of the house.

More shouting ensued, then a crashing sound and more gunfire.

"Janet," Alex whispered tersely. "Come here."

She stood next to him.

"It's only a matter of minutes before someone comes up here to check the rooms. We have to do this. Do you have a jacket or something to wear?"

She hurried to grab the hooded sweatshirt Hector had given her and put it on.

Alex opened her window then worked to release the screen. Pulling it inside the bedroom, he handed it to Janet who impulsively slid it under the bed. Alex climbed out then helped her. He made sure the drapes were pulled shut before sliding the window closed.

Rain pelted them as they gingerly walked along the exposed roof now soaked and slippery. Alex took one of her hands and told her to grab his belt with the other then led her along. Her right foot slipped slightly throwing them both off balance but he quickly crouched down and she did the same to stop their fall. They carefully continued along the roof, staying under the eave as much as possible. Janet held tightly to his belt as they both listened to the ongoing confrontation inside the house.

They were on the sheltered side and out of the brunt of the wind until they reached the end of the wall. The gusting wind swooped past and around them delivering the driving rain. Alex got on his hands and knees and motioned for Janet to stay up against the wall of the house. He struggled to keep his balance against the wind as he crept to the edge of the roof and looked down in hopes of finding a place to climb down. It didn't look good at first until he spotted a stack of firewood neatly arranged up against the house a few feet ahead.

He motioned for Janet to follow but to keep as close to the north side of the house as possible and away from the edge of the roof. There were no windows along this wall eliminating the likelihood of anyone spotting them from inside. Alex stopped directly over the neatly arranged stack of firewood. Gauging the distance to the top of the stack from the edge of the roof, he guessed he could probably ease himself over the edge and nearly touch the top of the stack with his toes.

More gunshots and shouting then suddenly the action was outside and in front of the house. Alex had to think fast. They could either remain on the roof flattened out or still attempt to get down and escape the property entirely. He opted for the latter, figuring it would only be a matter of time before someone would finally discover them.

He crawled over to Janet. "I'm going to lower myself down then you are going to follow," he said into her ear and over the howling of the wind. "I'll be right there to help you."

Janet pressed up against the side of the house shaking her head. "I'm not sure I can do it!"

"Yes, you can! I know you can! You can do anything you put your mind to." He held her chin and tilted up her face. "I know you can do this." He kissed her then moved to the edge of the roof slowly letting himself down. He gently placed the toes of one foot on the stack then shifted his weight to put down his other foot. He called up to Janet. She tentatively peeked over the edge then rolled onto her stomach and let herself down as well.

Alex guided her descent but she was shorter than he was and couldn't touch the stacked wood with her feet. Grabbing the edge of the rain gutter, she was able to lower herself down another couple of inches but that was all.

Alex called up to her. "Let go of the gutter. I've got you."

"I'll fall!" she said. The gutter groaned and started to droop under the weight of her body.

"No, you won't. I have you. But you need to let go of the gutter before it pulls loose from the house. Now." He reached up for her.

Shivering from the cold rain, and as she attempted to let go, her hands slipped and she dropped into him. Alex clutched her with one arm using every ounce of strength he could muster while reaching for the side of the house to help balance them both. Janet gripped him tightly and miraculously the stack of wood held fast under the weight of them both.

"I'm going to crouch down slowly and climb off the wood stack. I want you to crouch down too but stay put until I can help you down."

She nodded but a look of fear gripped her face as the shouting and gunfire continued out in front of the house.

Alex managed to get to the ground then reached up for Janet but one foot slipped and she tumbled, knocking Alex down in the process. A few pieces of wood fell as well. They both froze and waited. Then suddenly the shouting and gunfire stopped.

Not waiting to find out why, Alex grabbed Janet's hand. They scurried into some shrubs across from the side of the house and up against a fence then stayed low, fully expecting to see someone come around and investigate what had happened. No one did. Alex pulled her along behind the shrubs until they could see the back patio. Still no one. The stairs down to the beach were at the far edge of the patio. Alex debated whether or not it was safe to make a dash for them but before he could make up his mind, someone walked out of the house.

He gripped Janet's hand tightly. "Stay down," he whispered.

The man was the one he had followed earlier in the day. Another man joined him and both Janet and Alex gasped. It was Marcus Cummings from Global.

"They should be here," they heard Marcus say.

"We'll check upstairs," the first man said. "We'll find them."

Someone called to them and they both went back inside.

Alex saw his chance. "Come on." He had Janet by the hand and stealthily led her across the patio to the stairs. The wind and rain masked any sounds they made as they climbed down the steep steps toward the beach below. Rain clouds overhead reflected light from the nearby town a few miles east, and although it wasn't enough to illuminate where they were, at least it helped them keep their bearings.

"Now what?" Janet asked as they paused midway down the stairs.

"We need to get help but we also need to get as far away from here as possible," he said.

"I am so cold," Janet said, shaking visibly.

"Me too. Come on." Alex headed down a few more steps but suddenly stopped. "This isn't good," he said standing in swirling and sloshing seawater. The tide had come in and the stormy sea pounded against the lower portion of the stairs.

"Okay. I'm going to see how deep it is. Stay where you are and hang on to the rail.

Janet nodded, still shivering, her entire body drenched by the rain. Waves crashed in, sending sea spray into her face. The saltwater stung her eyes. She wiped at them with one hand to no avail. She could barely see Alex below inching his way down.

He finally stopped and looked up. "I'm standing on the beach. Come on down."

Taking a deep breath and with as much courage as she could muster, Janet clung to the railing and carefully felt for each wooden step as she descended into the cold and angry waters. Another wave sent a shower of water over their heads as it bashed into the side of the bluff then forcibly sucked at her body as it receded.

Gripped with fear, Janet could go no farther. Suddenly a strong hand grabbed hers. It was Alex. Holding onto to her tightly, she took another tentative step then another, finally joining him at the base of the stairway.

"Hold onto the supports," he said into her ear, "and my belt."

Together they inched their way along the base of the bluff as the wind and waves continued to assault the shore. They pushed ahead in the surf until the stair supports ended. Alex stopped to evaluate their situation. He looked up toward the patio praying no one was looking down at them. The stairs and treads created a temporary cover for them. He decided they should wait for a while, to catch their breath and regain some strength, if that were possible.

After a short time, they heard voices above them. Both strained to listen, hoping it was one of their own, looking for them. Suddenly a voice shouted a command that added to their distress.

"Get down those stairs. They might have gone that way!"

Instantly Alex began to grope for anything he could find to grab hold of while he and Janet continued to move along the base of the bluff. He finally stopped and pulled her close.

"I don't think we can go any farther," he said over the roar of the ocean. I'm holding onto a root of some kind. Here." He pulled her hand to it. "Hang on to it and me." She grasped the root with one hand, and his belt with her other then buried her head into his chest. He pressed her into the bluff and used his body to protect her from the brunt of the waves.

Both gaged and coughed as they choked on seawater mixed with churned up sand. The sound was incredible and deafening.

"We're going to die!" Janet shouted.

"Not if I can help it!" he shouted back.

In the din of the crashing waves and fierce wind, they could hear shouting voices coming from the stairs.

"If they went this way, they've likely been swept out to sea!" a voice shouted. "I can't see anyone down here!"

Another voice above shouted back. "Get back up here! We'll notify command!"

Alex continued to grip the wet root and shield Janet. He desperately wanted to reassure her but each succeeding wave sapped his strength and energy. He knew all it would take would be one powerful wave to slam them against the bluff then suck them out to sea. And if so, the man's prediction would hold true.

_"Brace yourself!"_ he shouted. "I hear another wave coming! _Take a deep breath!_ "

The incoming wave pounded them just as fiercely as the previous ones. As soon as it receded, Alex felt the tremendous tug of the undertow and groped around hoping to find another protruding root higher up. Miraculously, he did.

"Try to reach the root above us," he said pushing her up as she grabbed for it trying to find a toe hold for his foot but the bluff was too slippery. Another wave slammed into them. They were both losing the battle as they gasped for air, their strength all but gone with each assault.

"I can't hold on any longer!" Janet managed to shout over the sound of the pounding surf, her voice strained from the salty water.

"You have to try!"

"Alex –"

"Janet! Hold on a little longer! You have to. I know you can!" His voice was lost in the rage of the storm and the sea.

After an excruciating amount of time, Craig and the others were able to return to the house from their hiding places. All were in a panic as they frantically searched the house. "Where are they!" Craig shouted.

"I don't know!" Hector shouted back.

John and Charlie came running down the stairs.

"We think they climbed out Janet's bedroom window," John said. "We found the window screen shoved under her bed and water on the sill and carpet below it."

"We're headed outside to look!" Charlie said as he and John yanked open one of the French doors. Given the destruction already wreaked during the gunfight, adding wind, rain, and flying debris couldn't do much worse at the moment.

They all began a methodical search around the perimeter. Hector found the stacked wood and some pieces knocked out of place. He called out to Charlie who was nearby. "This is where they climbed down," he said.

"Yeah, but where did they go from here?" Charlie asked.

Without a word, Hector ran to the stairs leading to the beach. "They must have gone this way." He turned on a powerful flashlight and hurried down the soaked steps as far as he could. " _This isn't good!_ " he shouted up to his companions. " _The tide is in. If they attempted to go this way –_ " He didn't finish his sentence.

Craig was down the steps and at his side. _"Janet! Alex!"_ He called out in desperation. _"Janet! Alex!"_ He called out again.

Hector joined in.

Suddenly Hector held up a hand. _"Listen!"_

Over the roar of the sea and the wind, they thought they could hear something. Hector showed his light in both directions along the bluff then stopped. _"There!"_ he shouted and pointed.

In the glow of the beam of light, they could make out two figures clinging to the side of the bluff.

_"It's them!"_ Craig said. "I'm going after them."

"Wait up," Hector said grabbing his arm. "You could get swept out to sea. Those waves are too powerful."

"But we can't leave them there!" he replied.

"We're not going to leave them there we just need a better plan." He aimed his light up the side of the bluff. "Maybe we can get to them from above. We can lower a rope and pull them up."

Craig agreed. "We'll need two ropes, both strong and a way to anchor them."

They hurried up the stairs and shared their idea with the others.

"We can use the van to anchor the ropes," John said, "if we can get close enough."

"Let's do it!" Hector said. "We're running out of time!"

Charlie took charge. "Craig. Get back down there. Keep talking to them. Help them stay calm but don't attempt to go rescue them on your own. We'll get them."

Craig took off. He made it back down the soaked stairs and shone his light on Alex and Janet calling to them. _"We're coming to get you both! Hang on!"_

Up top, the others grabbed supplies from the garage and tossed everything into their van. Hector and John jumped into while Charlie stayed on foot to assess the area on the bluff above their victims.

The van, outfitted with four-wheel drive, and driven by Hector, slowly followed Charlie to about fifty feet from the edge of the bluff. He kept the engine and headlights on, set the brake and put the gear in park then quickly joined John and Charlie. They secured two static ropes to a tow hook below and behind the front bumper of the van then tossed them over the edge of the cliff.

"Let's do this," Charlie said. He walked as close to the edge of the bluff as he dared then got on his belly and eased himself to the edge to look down. It wasn't a straight shot and he couldn't see them but he could see Craig's beam of light aimed at the base of the cliff and got a pretty good idea where they were.

He shimmied back and called out to his partners. "Who's doing this?"

"Me," Hector shouted back, already gearing up to rappel over the side. In seconds he was on his belly at the edge of the bluff. He took a look, gauged the approximate location of Alex and Janet, based on Craig's light, then swung his feet and legs over the edge. With a thumbs-up, he lowered himself over the edge and carefully began his descent. A flashlight hanging from his harness helped him see where he was going and would act as a beacon to Alex and Janet as well.

Nerves were on edge as everyone waited.

Hector kicked out enough to overcome a portion of the bluff that jutted out then skillfully eased back in, catching the bluff with both feet. Below he could see the onslaught of roaring waves battering the base of the cliff. Even with his light shining below, he could not see Alex or Janet yet. He continued his descent, while spray from the waves exploded up the side of the cliff, drenching him in the process. He had to wait long enough for the surf to recede in order to continue a few more feet, still watching. The going was excruciatingly slow in his estimation. Too slow, but with the conditions, he had little choice but to proceed carefully.

Craig continued to play his light across the distance from the stairs to Alex and Janet's location. A few seconds later, Hector thought he could see something that looked like two dark forms clinging to the side of the bluff. Two people barely keeping their heads above the water. He kept his eyes on the location as he worked his way down. Then, suddenly an exceptionally powerful wave roared and surged, smashing him into the side of the bluff, forcing the air out of his lungs.

His eyes stung and he spit out saltwater while trying to breathe. The water receded with a loud hiss and he strained to see below. Craig maintained his light but there was nothing to see. Hector frantically searched the area, grabbing his own light to play around the area. Nothing. The two shapes were gone. More roaring waves. More stinging salt spray. He gazed out at the inky blackness of the sea and sky, blinking at the seawater dripping from his face. Waves continued to pelt him and the bluff but his only thought at that moment was, _they're gone!_

Craig had moved partway up the stairs for a better vantage point and to avoid the rough surf as well as the very real risk of being swept out to sea. He had watched helplessly, as one of his men carefully rappelled down the bluff and did his best to keep his light focused on Alex and Janet.

When the massive wave hit, it threw Craig off balance. In an effort to keep from slipping down the stairs and into the surging sea, he lost his grip on the flashlight. Frantically scanning the dark base of the bluff for signs of Alex and Janet, he could only see his man on the rope and the glow from a light attached to his harness. A sinking feeling wrenched his gut. He strained to look again, squinting harder to focus, but all he could see was the other light slowly moving back up the bluff.

Craig stood frozen on the stairs shaking his head in sheer disbelief – gripped with the sudden anguish of incredible grief. With heavy reluctance he forced himself to return to the ravaged house above and wait for his companions to return.

Charlie lay at the edge of the bluff and as John slowly backed the van away to assist Hector's ascent to the top. Once Hector was within reach, Charlie offered his arm and hand to help him up and over the edge.

Hector rolled away from the rim of the bluff then lay still breathing heavy and shaking his head.

"What happened?" Charlie asked as John hurried to his partner and knelt beside him.

"They're gone," he said, completely exhausted. "That one wave. It was too much. They couldn't hold on. We lost them."

# CHAPTER 28

It was nearly midnight. Their power was out and the entire house was in a shamble from the shootout. Bullet holes riddled the walls, furniture, anything caught in the line of fire. The dining table was overturned, riddled with bullets, and several chairs lay strewn about.

John stood facing a roaring fire giving light and warmth to the otherwise dismal group of men. Charlie and Hector sat in a couple of up-righted chairs huddled in blankets absently staring at the flames.

Craig paced, mumbling and blaming himself for the tragic disaster. "What have I done?"

_"We_ , you mean," Charlie corrected him. "What have _we_ done?"

John turned around and faced his partners. "We were doing our job," he said soberly. "And we have three dead bodies outside to prove it." He looked at his companions. "How were we supposed to know that this place was also compromised and those three guys would just show up and start shooting?"

Hector shook his head. "But _how_ did they know? How did they know about this place? Who could have tipped them off? Who else knew about it but us? I find it hard to believe any of us would have shared this location. The police don't even know about it – at least I don't think they do. Who else, besides us, knew?"

"Ray?" John said. "You think someone could have tipped him off?"

"But that would still point back to us," Charlie said.

Craig stopped pacing and faced his companions. "I need to remember to take my own advice."

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asked.

"Maybe we're looking at what we _want_ to see, or perhaps what someone else wants us to see, but are we really seeing what we _need_ to see?"

The room fell silent.

"Marcus Cummings was here for one thing," Craig said. One of the managers at Global. But I don't think he was in the gunfight. I don't remember seeing him shooting at us. So, where is he?"

No one spoke.

"We already know there had to be others involved in Ray's outside affairs. Other Global staff." He expressed disgust. "I'm losing my edge. I should have seen it."

"Stop beating yourself up," Charlie said.

"How can I help it?" Craig replied. "Marcus. He had a clean profile. I double-checked everyone's bios and work history. Every one of them."

"How far back?" Charlie asked.

Craig stared at him. "Perhaps not far enough." He shook his head and let out a disgusted laugh.

After a moment Charlie nodded his head. "Okay. We need to step back and take another look at all the players," he said, "and _especially_ everyone in the Global office. I mean, after all, Craig, you were sent in to figure out what was going on, right?"

Craig let out a heavy sigh. "Yes. I was. And a remote office at that, posing as a legitimate arm of the company, which it was in the beginning. Stan Demarcus set it up nearly, what, eight years ago?"

Charlie nodded again. "That sounds about right and as I understand, it was for the sole purpose of being in better proximity to Asia at that time."

"Yes, because Global was getting a lot of business from that part of the world so it made sense to have an office in San Francisco." Craig stared up at the vaulted ceiling. He took in a very deep breath and let it out then gazed at the fire. "Stan was vice President and he stayed about five years before he retired. Five years. But about a year ahead of that, Ray was promoted from Field Operations to Managing Director of this office and worked closely with Stan. Things seemed to be operating smoothly. No red flags. Nothing, according to headquarters."

"But I figured he would have been thoroughly vetted," Charlie said.

"Yes," Craig said, "but that points right back to everything I shared earlier. Remember? Ray would make recommendations to the executive staff, they generally approved because he already had them recruited into his bigger plan. He simply moved right in to take on a new piece of his big puzzle. It was all part of his plan. And if Stan were still alive, I'd would have loved to have gotten his take on it." He walked to the French doors and stared out into the gloomy darkness. Wind and rain continued to pelt the house. "Could Ray have somehow found out about this house?" He turned to look at the others.

They remained quiet. They had no response but individually, their thoughts were racing.

Hector finally joined Craig at the windows. "How is this going to affect your intention of getting your CEO out of Virginia safely?"

Craig drew in a deep breath and exhaled, still staring out the window. He shook his head. "I don't know. I'd really like to know if he's okay but I hate to risk that phone call right now. Something feels off."

"Where did Marcus Cummings work before he hired on with Global?" Hector's question was more of a statement than a question.

Craig looked at him. "As I recall, his file said he came from a competitor – a company called _Situational Exigencies_ , I think." He looked at Hector. "Are still in business?"

"Never heard of them," Hector said and looked at Charlie and John.

They both shook their heads.

"Yeah," Craig said. "I didn't recognize the name at the time, and I didn't take time to look into it. Too much going on. Too many interruptions. A sniper shot. A bomb threat –" His voice trailed off as he fell back into a quiet train of thought, still staring out the window. "This is all on me," he finally said. "I've made too many mistakes."

Hector grabbed his arm. "You can stop that right now. Even though the three of us had nothing to do with any of the backgrounds or vetting of Global employees, then or now, that doesn't mean we can't look into them again, beginning right now." He looked at his companions. Heads nodded. "We have the resources and know-how. I say we get started. Do we still have internet access or did they disable that too?"

"I'll check," John said and pulled out his phone.

Charlie agreed then added, "And those other incidents you just mentioned? What if they were meant as distractions? You know, to throw you off – or provide someone else opportunity to get into Global's office and poke around? I mean, it's not unheard of for someone to pose as law enforcement in a crisis situation. Especially if they want or need to find something."

Craig's mind raced. "Maybe both - keep me off balance and get everyone out of the way." He spun around. "The precinct. Detective Carson had a couple of people in his precinct who were tipping off Ray and his men, apparently." He pressed his fingers against his temples. "I need to find out –" He stopped. "We need to know who, of his staff, participated in the investigation of the office after the late-night shooting, the sniper shooting, and the bomb threat."

Charlie nodded vigorously. "Now we're getting somewhere. It may not bring back those two kids, but we might be able to avenge their deaths!"

Craig was quiet. Pensive. "Yes. It just might. You know I was trying to train Alex on my own. I sent him on a couple of reconnaissance assignments, with his friend Tony." Craig managed a smile. "He even tried to follow me a couple of times, without much success."

Charlie frowned. "Tony? What do we know about Tony?"

"Whatever is in his file. I carefully examined each one. Took me a whole day and half of a night to do that."

"Can we be sure the files weren't loaded? You know, bogus?"

"At this point, I'm not sure we can trust anything." Craig blew out hard. "It feels like I've been duped again, wouldn't you say?" He looked at his men. "Left holding the bag, just like before. Ray is always a step ahead of me and laughing his head off. This time is no different, I'm sure."

"Holding the bag," John said. "What do you mean again? This has happened before?"

"Something similar, yes. Many years ago. But that's all behind me now."

"But do you think they can pin something on you?"

Craig's face was like stone. "I wouldn't put it past them. Especially now. Ray's had enough of me. Now that Alex and Janet are –" a look of deep pain crossed his face. "Alex was doing his best. Trying to protect Janet. His effort might have worked too, if not for the storm and high tide. If he hadn't gotten Janet out of the house, Marcus and his men would have found them. Probably killed Alex and then taken Janet. In a tragic way, maybe –" He couldn't openly complete his thought. "I should have turned him over to you guys to train." The pained expression remained. "I promised to protect her. I promised she'd be safe." He started for the stairs. "I can't think anymore. I'm gonna try to get some sleep." He disappeared upstairs.

There was silence for several seconds.

Hector spoke quietly. "We need to find some answers. We need to find out who else in that office was in thick with Ray. Like Marcus and maybe that little gal Hazel. Why did she need a key to Ray's office?"

John nodded. "And what about that Tony kid? Worth looking into?"

"Why not?" Charlie said. "As far as I'm concerned, everyone who worked there is now under suspicion."

Charlie let out an involuntary sneeze. "Sorry about that. It just snuck up on me."

Within seconds, Craig came running downstairs. "Who just sneezed?"

Charlie was startled. "Uh, it was me, but –"

"Hazel sneezed."

"What?" all three men asked in unison, confused. "At the staff meeting. The one we had just before everyone got busy examining Ray's files. She sneezed. I suppose it could have been just that. A sneeze. Unless it was a signal of some kind." Craig shook his head. "Forget it. I'm grasping at straws." He started for the stairs again.

"No, wait," Charlie said. "You wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't think it was significant. So, tell us."

Craig blew out air. "Okay. I was wrapping up that meeting and getting ready to dismiss everyone to get to work on the files and she sneezed suddenly." He was quiet but in deep thought then stiffened. "Marcus. Marcus Cummings was not at that meeting. Peter Bradshaw was, but not Marcus. He called about an hour before we got started and said he was running late." Craig looked at his men.

Hector's eyes widened. "You think her sneeze was a signal? To him maybe?"

"What if he came in quietly, while the rest of us were in the conference room? No one would have seen him because that room is just out of sight from my office. Plus, I had my back to the door which we left open. He knew I was going to review our assignment with the staff. What if he showed up, got into my office to look around, and when she sneezed, it was a signal to get out." Craig's mind raced. "I may have left something on my desk that might have –" He stopped. "I remember – I jotted down some notes and made a list of things I needed to do, including coming here. I covered it with a couple of files and closed and locked my office door, before – wait! damn! I didn't lock the door. I remember thinking everyone would be in the conference room so I just closed the door. I was sloppy. This is all my fault."

"Hold on," John said. "Will you stop it! You're just guessing. You don't know for sure if he saw your notes. Did you see him hanging around out in the suite after the meeting was over?"

"No. He arrived a few minutes later. But – he could have quietly come in, looked around and just as quietly left. Then come in as if he just showed up."

"Okay," Charlie said, "but even if you had locked your office, he still could have picked the lock".

"Perhaps, but that's probably how they would have known about this place." Craig slammed his fist against a wall. "This is all my fault. All of it. I let down my guard. I was foolish and careless and now look what's happened. I should never have left anything that sensitive on my desk. I should have put those notes in my pocket." He sat down again and leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs, staring at the floor.

"Boss," John said. "You've had a lot on your mind. A lot to think about and take care of. It happens, sometimes. We've all dropped our guard from time to time. We're only human, even you."

Craig shook his head. "No. This was unacceptable. I neglected to follow a very important protocol. It's all on me."

By mid-morning, the storm had blown through for the most part. Light rain still fell but the winds were considerably calmer and though the ocean still churned, it wasn't as violent as it had been overnight. Opening the door, Craig stepped outside and walked to the short wall and rail. He listened to the waves crashing on the narrow beach below. The tide had turned and receded, revealing a torn-up beach, strewn with debris.

The others joined him.

"What are you thinking?" John asked donning a baseball cap.

"Not sure other than I'm not completely convinced that Alex and Janet are dead."

Charlie put a hand on Craig's shoulder. "Craig. It would be a wild stroke of luck if they were found alive and washed up somewhere."

Craig didn't respond.

"I know the idea of losing them isn't easy, but –"

Craig looked at his friend sternly. "You're right. It isn't."

"Okay, so let's fix something to eat and figure out what to do with the bodies in the front courtyard. Then we can work on figuring out a way to find out what happened to Janet and Alex."

Hector headed back into the living room, followed by John. "Speaking of bodies," he said, "John and I are gonna check them for ID, not that we'll find anything, but you never know. At least, we'll be able to see better now in the daylight." They headed outside.

"Craig's been hit pretty hard by all of this," John said to Hector as they stepped outside. "We all have."

"Yeah," Hector said. "And I can't help but think there's something more about Janet he's not telling us."

"I know. Me too," John said. "Especially after watching them together last night."

Out on the patio, Charlie and Craig continued to stare at the ocean which had calmed down considerably but still sported white caps on the choppy waters. Finally, Charlie patted Craig's shoulder. "I'll fix breakfast."

Craig nodded but continued to gaze out at the Pacific. "What _should_ I be seeing? What _am_ I missing?" he said to himself. He became aware of a fishing trawler navigating the troubled waters about a half-mile out. "Brave souls," he said then continued to watch with interest.

His thoughts were interrupted as John and Hector ran back inside the house.

"We've got trouble!" Hector shouted.

Craig spun around and burst inside. "What do you mean, trouble?"

"The bodies. Those three guys we shot? _Gone!"_

Craig looked at Charlie then back at Hector and John. "What do you mean, gone!"

"Just that. They're gone. They're nowhere outside. We left them where they fell and now, they're gone! No trace."

"Marcus," Craig said. He was out the front door in a heartbeat.

The others were right behind him and watched as he looked at the ground, still thoroughly wet from the overnight storm. He walked around carefully scrutinizing the entire area then opened the solid wood gate leading from the inner courtyard out to the driveway. Nothing.

His men joined him and all stared down the lane that led to the coastal highway a quarter-mile away.

"That storm wiped out any evidence of another vehicle," John said. "Coming or going."

Craig shook his head. "No. There's always something. Some little piece of evidence."

The others watched him as he slowly walked toward the narrow lane then stopped. He bent over to pick up something and stared at whatever it was in his hand.

"You find something?" Charlie called out to him.

"Maybe." Craig rejoined them and held out his hand.

"A button?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah," Craig said turning it over. "Must have gotten yanked off someone's jacket."

Hector took the button and looked at it closely and smiled at Craig, nodding. He held it up so Charlie and John could look.

"Okay, boss, but in spite of what you thought," Hector said, "I don't see any clues out here and we still don't know what happened to those men." Hector handed the button back to Craig.

"Are you sure they were all dead?" Craig asked, taking the button. He held onto it, absently rubbing his thumb over the surface.

"Either that or they are very good actors," John replied.

Craig nodded. "Let's get back inside. Someone may have eyes on us."

They secured the courtyard gate and once back inside, John stoked up the fire. Hector lingered with Craig, watching as he pulled a coffee mug from the cupboard. He filled it halfway with water and carefully placed the button in it. He then put the mug in the freezer.

"So, what are you thinking?" Hector asked.

"Besides the fact that we have some very clever adversaries? Come check this out." Craig led Hector to the windows facing the sea. He pointed. "See that?"

"Fishing boat," Hector said and watched with interest.

_"Are_ they fishing?" Craig asked.

Hector looked again. "Let's find out." He quickly retrieved his high-powered binoculars and was back at the window. "Interesting," he said and handed Craig the glasses.

Craig looked then lowered them. "You know, I had a neighbor once who loved to fish the ocean," he said. "And he told me one time that right before a storm fishing was often pretty good. It depended on a few things like wind, temperature, and barometric pressure, but after a storm, when everything is churned up, fishing isn't so great. The fish swim deeper to keep from getting their gills clogged with silt and debris. At least that's what he said."

Hector used the glasses again as John joined them.

"See something interesting?" he asked.

"Just watching the sea," Craig said, "and that boat out there." He stepped away from the window and over to the crackling fire to warm himself.

John continued to watch the boat along with Hector.

Charlie had an assortment of fruit and cold cereal ready for breakfast. He set it on the bullet-scarred table he'd up-righted and called everyone to come sit.

Craig sat absently nibbling on some grapes but his mind was working.

"How did they know we'd find that button?" John asked him quietly.

Craig let out a quiet laugh. "Assuming they left it intentionally, perhaps to provide a false lead, maybe? Otherwise, they know we're thorough," Craig replied. "And that little water trick won't last long. They'll figure out we did something to it."

"Whoever they are," Hector said.

"Yes. Whoever they are," Craig said. "Apparently, there were more players than we realized, but I think Marcus was in charge. When the lights went out, I couldn't see anyone very well. Any of you?"

"No," Hector said. "You think Marcus is the one who left that button?"

"I think someone did. I know it was deliberately placed," Craig said. "There were no thread fibers on it or around it, so it didn't accidentally get yanked off someone's clothing. And it was tucked in a small crack to make sure it didn't get blown or washed away. It wasn't scratched in any way either so it didn't get run over by any vehicles recent or otherwise. So, the next best answer would be that it was left there on purpose knowing full well we'd find it. What better way to continue to monitor us, our plans, and our thoughts?" He looked at his men. "I'm pretty sure Marcus wanted us to find that button. Now we just need to find out where they are."

"Yeah, but wouldn't they realized we'd figure out it's a bug?" John asked.

"Sure," Hector said. "And maybe it's also a tracking device. They might figure we'd take it with us wherever we go next."

Craig was silent but looked thoughtful.

"Something on your mind, Craig?" Charlie asked.

"Water."

"Water?

"Yes. A while ago I watched a fishing boat not too far out. Hector was with me. But they weren't fishing. Just slowly chugging along."

"Okay," Charlie said and gave the others a curious look.

"Water. We're worried that Alex and Janet were swept out to sea but what if –" He looked at the windows again then wandered to them and looked out at the ocean, not much calmer than hours earlier. "What if someone picked them up? What if they're not dead?"

"Craig," Charlie began.

"No. Seriously." He paused. "Have any of you seen any cargo ships out there lately?"

"There usually are cargo ships out there," Hector said.

"I know that, but recently? In the past day or so?"

"Yeah," he said. "Janet saw one and wondered about it. I got some binoculars and we both took a look."

"How far out?"

Hector shrugged. "I don't know for sure but my guess is probably three miles or so. In international waters."

"Okay."

"They might have been headed for the bay. Port of Oakland."

Craig was thinking again. "What if they didn't plan to come in? What if –" He continued to stare at the restless ocean. "We've all heard chatter about people, women, in particular, being transported overseas – illegally – in containers like they carry on those cargo ships. Women have disappeared up and down the coast of California, Oregon, and Washington, as well as Central America and Mexico." He grew quiet again but no one interrupted his thoughts. "What if, a cargo ship simply plied the international waters all up and down the coastline, picking up boatloads of women? They'd never have to pull into port because –" He paused. "Because smaller boats could shuttle supplies to them as well as –"

His men looked at each other and slowly began to nod, realizing where Craig's thoughts were going.

"What if these women are ferried out to the larger ships in small boats and locked up in empty cargo containers, eventually to end up in other parts of the world?"

Charlie spoke first. "That would be a slick way to put together a very sizeable and profitable cargo of humans," he said. "No docking fees. No paperwork. Nothing. Just drop anchor and wait for delivery."

"Okay," Hector said, "but that wouldn't be very cost-effective, would it? I mean it would take a lot of sea-worthy boats to transfer enough women out to one of those ships, to be a money-making business."

"Perhaps," Craig said, "but for some small pittance, they might be able to convince some fisherman to do that. Make up a logical reason, why they'd need their help."

"I don't know," John said. "That's involving a lot of people who might begin to brag about their little side business. The whole thing could blow up because of some loose lips, you know?"

Craig nodded but narrowed his eyes. "Yes, unless – they hired them. If they hired them, the boat pilots would become employees of the Organization. It would be a regular paycheck instead of beating themselves up every day trying to catch fish. Fishing can be very competitive, especially in some waters, and especially for sole proprietor fishing companies. The organization might be able to enlist enough of them to make it work. A few here and there in different locations up and down the coast."

"Okay," Charlie said, "but how's that gonna help us find our sweet Janet?" He shook his head and answered his own question. "Unless you think she's already on one of those ships."

"If not yet, then soon," Craig turned to Hector. "When did you see that ship? And which way was it headed?"

"Friday. Morning. We were having breakfast out on the patio. It was headed north."

"North," he repeated.

"What are you thinking, Craig?"

"That we need to figure out where they might be keeping her and when they'll try to move her, and any others they may have also gathered up." He let out a tired sigh. "There's no way they would risk capsizing a boat loaded with unwilling passengers in that stormy weather we just had. That would _not_ be cost-effective. They'll wait. And, if by some miracle they do have Janet, they won't move her until the ocean calms a little more. We may still have a chance to get her back and hopefully Alex too."

"If they're still alive and they have them," Charlie said.

# CHAPTER 29

Detective Talmont was on the phone with Detective Carson. "What the _hell_ is going on at that place!"

"I don't know," Talmont replied. "No one seems to know anything. We've talked to every employee and we're getting nothing."

"Someone has to know something! I can't believe three people have disappeared from that office and no one _knows_ anything!" He was fuming. "For crying out loud! Feldman, Stevens, and one other employee. What was his name?"

"Alex Paulsen," Talmont said.

"Right. Paulsen."

"I agree that you'd think someone would know something, but short of torture, which is illegal by the way, how are we going to get anyone to talk?"

Carson was quiet for a moment. "That whole company is screwed up. Have you been able to talk to anyone at their headquarters? Where is it?"

"Virginia," Talmont replied. "And, no. I tried calling this morning but they gave me the run-around. Kept talking about company security and client confidentiality."

"Yeah, well you _know_ they've gotta be doing some kind of investigation of their own! Hell! There's been a presumed homicide, an attempted homicide, and now three people missing!" Carson was breathing heavy. "Gimme that number. I'll call!" Talmont did so and waited.

Carson expected to be kept on hold but was surprised when he was immediately connected to someone. He introduced himself and explained why he was calling. "Sure. I can wait." He tried to calm down then seemed hopeful when someone got back on the line. "Yes. I'm Detective Brian Carson, San Francisco police, homicide division. I'm trying to –" He stopped and listened. "Yeah but I've got an active investigation going on here. Possible homicide and –" he was interrupted again. "Okay, but –" Although his patience was running out, he did his best to stay calm enough to listen to someone talking. "But if I could just –" He stopped and pulled the phone from his ear. "Damn! Hung up on me!"

"Did the same to me about an hour ago," Talmont said. "Okay well, obviously there's a lot more going on than even we know. Otherwise why not work with us? We're the ones collecting the evidence."

Carson agreed. "Yeah, and if they think we're going to roll over and stop our investigation, they don't know us! Blood and missing persons get my attention. This is our city and no one from some east coast investigation company is going to tell me how and when to do police work!"

"They asked you to stop the investigation?" Talmont asked in surprise.

"They did and then they hung up. Idiots!"

Talmont shook his head. "So, what's our new game plan?"

"How would you like to enjoy a nice home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner? Pack a bag. You're coming to Monterey."

"But I said I'd have dinner with my neighbors, besides what about your wife and family?"

"Ask your neighbors for a rain check. Shelly's already on board and working some angles and the rest of the family will have no problem entertaining themselves. They're addicted to those damned video games. I'll pick you up in a few hours. Oh, and bring all that paperwork you copied for yourself."

# CHAPTER 30

Janet lay awake shivering, wet, and cold. Her hands and feet were tied and a dark bag pulled over her head but she was not gagged for some reason. The last thing she remembered was clutching to a wet root protruding from the rain-slick rocky bluff and to Alex as they desperately struggled to stay alive. She could remember being slammed against the bluff by the storm-driven waves, but that was all. Now she was lying on the hard floor of a moving vehicle.

_I must be in a van again_ , she thought as she struggled with her bound hands, _and if I get out of this alive, I'm never going to ride in another van the rest of my life._ Her thoughts continued to race as the vehicle lurched along, stopping occasionally, most likely for stop signs and signal lights but where? _Where are we?_ Traffic noise suggested they were in a busy area, certainly not near the house by the sea any longer. After a while, she could sense they were driving uphill, then down again. It wasn't until she distinctly heard the sound of a cable car bell, ringing nearby, and then a horn honking behind them that she realized she was back in San Francisco.

The vehicle made a few more turns, would speed up then slow down, all accompanied by a lot of road noise on both sides. Not much farther and she heard a ship's horn blast. The traffic sounds seemed to echo in some places and there was a rhythmic beat of the tires driving over sections of the road. _A bridge! The Bay Bridge?_

The vehicle began to slow then swerve to the left and took a tight turn. They continued but the deafening road noise faded away and it grew quieter. Janet was now completely confused and disoriented as her body rolled slightly one way or the other as the vehicle followed a winding road. Eventually, they began to slow again and made one more turn before coming to a complete stop. The driver turned off the engine and doors opened, including a slider door next to where she lay. Pretending to be unconscious, she felt rough hands pull her out and another pair of hands grab her feet.

Doing her best to stay limp, she could detect the smell of the sea. It was strong and she could hear the lapping of waves against pilings nearby. They were at a wharf. The air was cold and her damp clothing didn't help any.

Her captors stopped. The grinding of metal on metal and a slight squeak suggested a door opened. Janet was carried along and finally placed onto a metal chair. A folding chair, she guessed. One person held her in place while another tied her hands and feet to the chair. They kept the bag on her head and left as quietly as they came. No one spoke a word. She then heard the grinding metal again, a door close, and a bolt shoved in place to latch it.

Janet waited for a while before she attempted to move and straighten up. She had a kink in her neck and carefully rolled her head from side to side to work it out. With the bag still over her head, she couldn't see anything but decided she was probably sitting in the dark anyway. Suddenly she heard something else and stiffened. It sounded like a groan and not too far from her. Staying perfectly still, she continued to listen not knowing if it was someone else also being held captive or a ruse with someone watching her. The moaning became more audible and she heard what sounded like a male voice barely speaking something. Uncertain whether or not to call out, she decided it best to remain still.

Then without warning the voice called out, "Hello? Anybody? Where am I?"

Janet was alarmed and confused but said nothing.

The voice called out again. "Somebody! Help!"

She caught her breath but managed to dredge up some courage and, nervously asked, "A-Alex?"

She detected a soft gasp then a response. "Who's there?"

"Alex," she repeated. "Is that you?"

There was silence then a reply. "Janet?"

"Yes!"

"I can't see you."

"I can't see anything either," she said. "I have a dark hood over my head."

"Me too but hold on a minute. I might be able to shake mine off."

Janet could hear him doing something. "No good," he said. "Say something and I'll try to scoot closer to you."

"I'm here but I'm tied to a chair," she said.

"Me too but keep talking."

Janet could hear scraping sounds as Alex worked his way closer.

"I hear you," she said. "Keep coming." She could hear him struggle as the chair scraped and banged on what was most certainly a cement floor. "Keep coming."

"I think I'm almost there," he said, stopping briefly to catch his breath. "Almost there." Eventually, he stopped.

Janet called to him. "Alex?"

"Yeah. I'm right here. See if you can turn your chair around so we can touch hands."

After several long minutes, they finally backed up to each other sufficiently to touch fingers.

"Okay. I'm going to try to untie your hands," he said. "Then you can untie your feet and help me. Think you can do that?"

"Yes."

Alex pressed his fingers against her rope and felt for one end. After several tries, he finally got it loosened and continued to work the rope until he managed to get the end through a loop. After several more minutes, he had her hands free.

"Okay. Take off your hood and untie your feet, then help me."

Janet did so then hurried to help Alex.

"Do you know where we are?" she asked him, as she first pulled off his hood, then began to work the knots.

"Not yet."

"What do we do?" she asked.

"Find a way out, see where we are, and get help."

Successfully removing Alex's restraints, he stood up and together they carefully worked their way through the building. It didn't take long for their eyes to adjust to the very dim light since they'd already been blinded with the hoods. What they discovered was they were in a warehouse filled with stacked pallets. Alex could see the green glow of an exit sign at the nearer end of the building.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, staying close to him.

"I don't know. I don't remember much once we were swept away from the bluff. The next thing I knew I woke up in here, then I heard someone come in then a few minutes later leave and lock the door. That must have been when they brought you in."

"We must have been brought here in different vehicles," she said. "But I wonder how we were rescued from the ocean?"

"I have no idea, but we must have gotten separated with that last powerful wave. I don't remember anything after that," he said. "I'm just glad someone did rescue us but why tie us up? Why not take us to a hospital or call the police or something? They reached a door and Alex attempted to open it. "Locked."

"Let's look for another one," Janet said.

A few dirty skylights in the roof of the building provided precious little light, but at least they could see more of the large warehouse filled with stacked pallets of goods.

Janet stayed close, as Alex carefully moved along trying to discover another way out.

"You don't remember anything else?" she asked.

"Not really. Except –"

"Except what?"

"It was right after that last huge wave that slammed us. I could feel my grip loosen from the tree root." He paused. "It pulled us both away from the bluff, and then –"

"And then what?"

"It was as if –" He paused. "It was like someone put something over my face." He shook his head. "That's all I remember."

"Put something over your face?"

'Yeah, but that's all I remember. I must have passed out."

Janet was silent, still trying to remember her experience, but couldn't.

Alex helped her refocus. "Okay," he said. "I see another exit sign." He had her hand and led her to the next door.

"Wait," Janet said softly. "What if someone is out there? Standing guard? If they catch us, we won't be able to get away again."

You may be right, but we have to do something. We can't just stay here. And since we were tied tp chairs, I'm pretty sure someone will come back and who knows what they'll do to us." He looked at her and took her face in his hands. "Wait here. I have an idea." He gave her a quick kiss then tried the door. It gave way.

"I'll come with you," she said.

"No. Stay here. If this doesn't work, at least you still have a chance to escape and get help."

Alex slipped through the door. For a moment an exterior light outside the door cast a soft glow on the floor. He quietly closed it leaving Janet alone. She was very uncomfortable and fearful. And except for the gloomy dim light from dirty overhead skylights the place was deathly still, dark, and cold. She shivered and began rubbing her arms with her hands, hoping Alex would return soon. A grating sound came from behind, like the door she'd heard earlier. Panicked, she attempted to find a place to hide. Then she heard voices and saw the beams of flashlights moving in every direction.

"We know you're in here, young lady. We caught your friend. You might as well come out. No time to play hide and seek. If we have to, we'll turn on all the lights and you'll have nowhere to hide."

Janet backed up bumping into one of the stacked pallets. Feeling her way along she found a narrow space to hide between it and one other stack of goods then crouched down. The sound of footsteps came closer as did the beams of light sweeping side to side. "Keep looking. She can't be far away." The voice was gruff and menacing. "Remember, he wants her alive."

Janet was terrified then wondered why they _hadn't_ turned on any overhead lights to aid in their search. Maybe they preferred cat and mouse games. Or perhaps they were actually trespassing or just didn't want to draw any attention to what they were doing. Staying as still as possible, she watched one beam of light pass by her location. Staying crouched she checked her breathing doing her best to remain as calm as possible and not panic.

"Bring in the dog!" a voice shouted.

_A dog?_ Janet's thoughts raced. The hunt just escalated from a cat and mouse situation to one of cat and dog instead. Fear was now more paramount than ever. A dog would be able to find her in minutes. She had to think of something. She began to feel around the pallets hoping to climb up and out of the way of a sniffing dog if that were even possible.

"Release him!"

A bark and a growl broke the stillness. It was too late. It was only a matter of time now. She could hear the dog racing around, sniffing and whimpering. He was getting closer and finally howled.

"Got her!" A light beam shown on her crouched form. "Either you come out on your own or we'll send in the dog to drag you out."

Janet stood up slowly and stepped out from between the two stacked pallets. One man grabbed her and another put duct tape on her mouth then tied her hands. He pushed her along to a door and shoved it open.

"We have a little surprise for you," he said with a laugh.

# CHAPTER 31

It was early Monday morning, following the Thanksgiving holiday. As was customary, the streets of San Francisco were rife with panhandlers. Market Street was no exception, especially as commuters streamed from arriving ferries, articulated buses, and light rail train cars. Detective Steve Talmont was uncomfortable arriving downtown dressed like a bum with his beat-up coffee can and a hastily scrawled sign that read, _hungry, please help_. Since Thanksgiving Day, which he spent with his partner, Detective Brian Carson, and his family, he hadn't shaved, or taken a shower, and was wearing battered clothing Carson had collected from somewhere. He didn't ask where they came from, nor did he want to know.

One part of the plan was to keep an eye on the activity in and around the high-rise that housed GHD Global, and in particular pay attention to the few remaining staff coming and going. With photos of each employee of interest, tucked inside an inner pocket of his well-worn coat, Talmont selected a spot not already occupied and got situated.

To keep an eye on the activity within the Global office suite, Detective Brian Carson enlisted the help of his uncle, Cleve Carson, and father-in-law, Doug Mulvaney, both retired police sergeants. He knew he could trust them and managed to pull some strings allowing both men to show up for work, posing as building maintenance personnel. Their assignment was to help with the removal of packed boxes and other items from the Global suite. Anything that triggered cause for further inspection was placed on a specified cart and taken one floor down to an empty office for a thorough examination. Once done, those boxes were delivered to the parking garage, to be loaded onto a truck and hauled to a chartered plane bound for Virginia. Cleve and Doug took turns with those inspections which included taking photographs of the contents of each.

By evening, Talmont was exhausted. He had circulated the entire downtown area within a few blocks of the high rise that housed Global. He'd mingled with other street people here and there and struck up casual conversations in an attempt to find someone who may have seen something in and around the lofty building.

It was during the last part of his day, that he happened upon Chester, a homeless man rummaging through a street-side garbage can. They got to talking and Talmont soon found out that Chester loved to dumpster-dive looking for interesting things people liked to throw away. They talked and laughed about how people like to get rid of stuff that someone else could use. Suddenly Chester got excited and started to brag about a particularly interesting find.

"Like a few days ago, I was making my rounds when I see this _po_ -leece car pull up in front of the Ferry Building," he said and smiled. Several of his teeth were missing but that didn't stop him. "This woman cop gits out and she has this paper bag in her hand. So's, I figure she's throwing away her lunch bag or something, but I follow her because she keeps looking around, kinda suspicious-like and I didn't have nothin' better to do."

"Yeah? What happened?" Talmont asked expressing genuine curiosity.

"So, like I says, she be lookin' all suspicious-like and heads back around behind the Ferry Building to the plaza back in there and I sees her walking almost to the very end. So, I hurry to catch up and then I hid in a shadow, it was gettin' kind late and dark but I could see her standin' at the rail and then she holds the bag over the rail and lets something drop out of it into the water. Then she mushes up the paper bag and throws it away.

"So's, I wait until she's gone then I go lookin'. I figures whatever it was is gone, you know, cuz it looked kinda heavy, whatever it was. I figured that it sunk clear down to the bottom of the Bay, but it didn't! Something was hung up on a piece of the piling under the pier and partly in the water. So's now I'm really curious and I gits me a piece of wire from my stuff." He pointed to his overloaded grocery cart. "And I gits down real low. I mean I'm on my belly and I snagged whatever it was and pulled it up. And this here is what I found." He dug around until he pulled out a woman's purse.

"Not much in it. No money or nuthin'." He handed it to Talmont who looked inside.

"Too bad there weren't no identification in it," Talmont said, doing his best to sound like Chester. "Ya might'a been able to git a _re_ -ward or sumthin."

"I knows it." Chester dug around again. "But this here is all that was in it." He handed Talmont a wallet. "See?"

Talmont opened the wallet and found a driver's license.

"It's jest some old woman," Chester said. "I don't think they'd be no _re_ -ward though. She don't look like she'd be worth much."

Talmont stared at the photo and the name on the license – Edna Harper.

Two hours later, Detective Carson paced the interrogation room as Chester sat at a table facing a two-way mirror.

"I didn't' do nuthin' wrong," Chester insisted.

"Keeping someone's wallet? That isn't wrong? Where did you get this!" Carson was clearly angry as he held up a small handbag.

"I already told that sneaky cop!" He glared at Talmont.

"Tell me anyway!"

"Behind the Ferry Building, like I already said!"

"Can you describe the person who put it there?" Carson lowered his voice.

"It was one of _yer_ people!" Chester said. "Ask her! I didn't chuck it into the water! She did! I seen her! I seen her do it!"

"Can you describe the woman posing as a cop?"

"She weren't posing. I've seen her around before this."

Carson looked at him. "If I show you pictures of female police officers would you be able to identify her."

"Is there a _re_ ward?"

"Just answer the question!"

"I suppose."

Minutes later, Chester looking at a collection of official photos. He finally pointed. "That'd be her," he said.

Carson and Talmont both looked and stared at each other.

"Damn it!" Carson said straightened up. "Get her in here!"

Chester jumped up. "Hold on! If she finds out I snitched, I'll be dead before morning."

"You won't be dead and we don't want you to get hurt but peoples' lives _are_ in danger and you may have helped. You'll be a hero, Chester."

His face brightened. "Me? A hero?"

Detective Carson leaned over the small table in a separate interrogation room. "You already make a damned good salary, if you ask me!" Carson glared at Officer Lydia Wheaton. "At least it's an _honest_ living!"

"Honest living, maybe," she said, "but I can barely keep up with my bills. I needed more money. I was offered a side job and I took it. I didn't know what it was going to develop into. I was hired to do some night guard stuff."

"Who hired you? How long ago? When did you finally realize you were on the take and did it occur to you, _even once_ , that you could have come talk to me?"

"I couldn't talk to you. I was in too deep! I already knew too much. They would have found out I talked and killed me. I had no other options. I'm dead as it is now!"

"We could have offered you protection!"

"Protection? You couldn't keep that Feldman woman protected! You have no idea what they are capable of! I saw what they could do to people who crossed them and I knew what they would do to me. I was scared. The only way I knew how to stay alive was to do what I was told!"

Carson straightened up. "Get her outta my sight!" Talmont opened the door and motioned for two officers to enter. Moments later they hauled her off in cuffs.

Detective Talmont closed the door. "What are you going to tell everyone?"

"The truth. I just need a moment to calm down first."

"Hard to believe about Wheaton," Talmont said. "She was such a good officer."

"I know," Carson slammed his fist on the table. "But who got to her? Right under my nose, they got to her." He opened the door. Let's continue this conversation in my office."

Once there, he stood at a window separating his office from the squad room and opened the blinds. "I wonder who else they got to?"

Carson looked at Talmont. "We need to find out who else is involved with these thugs, and the sooner the better. This had to have been an inside job." He continued to watch the activity outside his window. "We are supposed to be in the business of _preventing_ this type of activity, not supporting it! Not sneak around behind the backs of your fellow officers!"

He was furious with himself. "I should have seen it. I should have figured it out before now but it's the only thing that makes sense. She asked to be assigned to Janet's security detail instead of Perez. Right under my nose." He started to pace, still in disbelief then stopped in front of his window again. "I want to know who else in my office is involved in this and I want to know now!"

# CHAPTER 32

"Which pallets belong to us?" Ray asked one of his men as they stood in the warehouse. It was Monday evening and he was anxious to get a few things taken care of.

"Over here." The man led him to a group of four pallets each measuring four feet square and six feet high. Each was completely covered in heavy black waterproof material secured to the pallet.

"Good. And the container with our other goods?"

"Loaded today. They're anchored offshore waiting for you."

"And these pallets?"

"Scheduled to be picked up tomorrow - early. We'll load them on one of those boats you've hired to shuttle supplies out to the ship. It'll pull up to the pier out there."

"Okay, good." Ray looked around for a moment, then satisfied he nodded and headed for the door of the warehouse. "Okay, let's get out of here."

"How about that little gal of yours?"

"She's fine. I stowed her on my yacht the other night. She won't get away and no one will find her. Not ever. We'll be on that freighter anchored out beyond the Gate and long gone before anyone can find us."

"Yeah, and what about that other kid?"

"I had a couple of my other men take care of him. He won't be any more trouble to us either.

Ray looked around the warehouse. "I can't get away from here fast enough. Go wait with the pilot on the boat. And do something with that dog, but quietly. I don't need it anymore."

"Will do, boss."

"I'll join you shortly," Ray said. "I have a phone call to make."

His men headed for an exit, taking the dog with them. A door squeaked open and shut then all was quiet. Ray pulled out his phone and started to dial a number, then froze at the sound of a distinctive click. He waited, not daring to move.

"Going somewhere?" a man's voice asked.

Ray chuckled. "I should have known you'd show up somehow," Ray replied turning around slowly, his hands raised. "So. You're going by the name of Craig Stevens this time, huh? As soon as Edna described you to me, I knew it was you." He let out a laugh. "Lance Hamilton." He chuckled again. "And here we are. Face to face once again. But do you really think you can stop me this time? You've never succeeded before. What makes this time any different?"

"Don't underestimate me, Ray." Craig stepped out of a shadow; his gun leveled on Ray.

"I wouldn't think of it, but I think you've underestimated me. You gonna shoot me? Here?" He gestured with his raised hands. "My men would come streaming in here in a heartbeat and they'd kill you without thinking twice."

"You think I'm that stupid, Ray? No. You still have to answer for your sins."

"Sins? Since when did you get so religious?"

Craig merely smiled his gun still leveled on Ray.

"How did you know where to find me?" Ray asked.

"Hazel. She gave you up to save her own skin."

"Ah, Hazel. I knew I'd have to deal with her one day. Too power-hungry. Made too many demands. She had pretty much outlived her usefulness to me. I was getting ready to take care of her as well." Ray cocked his head slightly. "How did you find out about her?"

"A little deductive reasoning and I checked on a certain office above Market Street. Interesting place. Almost like a small museum. Lots of photos, notes, files – or maybe I should call it a shrine. What do you think?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"And what about Edna? I didn't see her picture on the wall."

Ray finally had to laugh. "Ahh, Edna. Poor thing. So easy to manipulate. She was getting in the way, unfortunately. Believe it or not, she really cared about Global. Had too many questions, though. I originally used her for a specific purpose – one which worked out rather well. Finances. You know. But as she started to ask unnecessary questions, I redirected her attention. I Convinced her that I suspected you of all kinds of misdeeds and that she'd be more valuable helping me get to the bottom of things. Gave her this _official_ biography all about you. Made her think you were up to no good and looking for glory – all for yourself. Unfortunately, she's now at the bottom of the Bay. I told her I'd get rid of you if she'd quit her job at Global and then afterward, I'd make sure she was re-hired to replace you. She believed me when I told her I was working with headquarters on a secret mission to nab you. She bought into it – all of it. So gullible."

Ray laughed again. "You know, once you identify a person's weaknesses all you have to do is exploit them and you can accomplish just about anything. But you already know all about that, don't you? About exploitation and manipulation? As for Edna, she felt slighted, unappreciated, useless; all of that. And she hated you because they gave you the job she coveted. She used to hate me too, but that all changed when you became her new enemy. So, I won her over. I agreed with all her angry frustrations about how she has always been pushed aside so others could climb that ladder of success. I told her I had been preparing to recommend her for a promotion as the general manager of our office so she could act in my stead whenever I was away. Then I convinced her you'd tried to kill me. I showed her my gunshot wound one evening when we spent some time alone." He chuckled. "Like I said, she bought it. Every last bit of it."

Craig kept a steady gaze on Ray. "But why lure her away when she could have stayed at Global, with a little kickback from you to make it worth her while? I would have thought she'd have been more valuable to you staying there spying on us."

"I thought about that," Ray said, "but I realized she would have eventually figured out I lied to her and would have gone to the police. Couldn't have that. Besides, I had Hazel, and a couple of others already on the inside."

"So, you killed her."

"I don't really like that word kill. I prefer to say we took care of a situation."

"Just like that. And Janet?"

"Ahh, now there's a determined young woman for you. Not so easy to sway. I kept offering her opportunities to work with me on special projects, after hours of course, and for significant bonuses too, but she kept saying no. I guess the lure of making extra money, just wasn't enough for her. I thought all pretty young ladies liked having money to spend on clothes, jewelry – that sort of thing but not her."

"Then what was she doing at your office late that night?"

"I guess she was getting tired of me asking her step up. To be more a part of the Global team. I finally convinced her to help me finish a very important contract that I told her had to go out the next morning. I said we'd be facing some stiff fines for not meeting a deadline and that it could be a reflection on her. Might even impact her position with Global. I threatened to fire her if she didn't help. I was tired of being Mr. Nice Guy. Anyway, she agreed, reluctantly of course, but it didn't matter. I'd already made arrangements with Stiles and Morton to handle her for me. They showed up as planned just before Janet got back from dinner. I was going to add her to my little bevy of beauties."

"So, you're the one who propped that door open? For your two men?"

"No. I let them both in. They must have done that, I guess. They arrived about an hour earlier and hung out for a while until it was time for them to join me."

"But you shot one of them," Craig said.

"Stiles. But he shot at me first. We got into a disagreement about our little sideline. They both wanted a bigger cut. Then Stiles pulled his gun and demanded more money. I said no and he shot me. So, I shot back and thought I got him good but he and Morton managed to get away and so did I. It was all going according to plan, but those two goofballs wanted more and I wasn't about to give it to them."

"No casings or bullets were found."

Ray laughed. "I generally clean up after myself. After they ran out, I managed to recover two casings on the floor and I didn't see any bullet holes anywhere. Turns out the bullet in me was lodged in my upper arm. What do they call that bone? The humerus? Well, it wasn't all that humorous to me." Ray laughed again, amused by his own attempt at a joke.

Craig continued to let him talk hoping to get more answers.

Ray glowered. "What I don't get is why Reed sent you in to save the day? How did he find out about you? You're not even a Global employee. You're nothing more than a two-bit hired hand if you ask me." He scowled. "Doesn't matter. We took care of Reed too. His poor widow. But she'll be taken care of. A nice life insurance policy will see to that. As far as she's concerned Global is a shining star." He laughed then sobered.

"Everything would have been taken care of just as I planned. Janet would come back at eight, my two guys would grab her, and I'd show up the next morning as usual. Then when Janet didn't show up for work, we'd wait a while, try calling her, and eventually report her missing. It should have been an easy job, but Stiles messed it up. Doesn't matter. I've already dealt with both of them too.

"I had every intention of coming back to the office later that morning, even after the shooting, but someone called the cops and reported gunfire. So, not only did I have to get out, there was no way I would be able to come back and pretend nothing happened."

Craig kept his aim on Ray. "You used that secret entrance to the conference room."

"Oh, you found that. Pretty clever, huh?" Ray laughed again. "Yeah. And I stashed that ugly piece of carpet in there, too. Like I said, I was going to remove it discreetly, but all that changed. As for that door, we've put it to good use." Ray relaxed and started to lower his hands. "You've got nothing on me, Hamilton or Stevens or whatever name you want to go by. Not one solid thing."

Craig motioned with his gun for Ray to keep his hands up. "Again, you underestimate me. I don't do things for no reason. Everything is calculated and planned. What you didn't know was we'd already gotten to Stiles. He was wearing a wire that night. I don't suppose you bothered to check him, did you?" It was a lie, but Craig hoped it would help keep them engaged in conversation for a while longer.

Ray didn't respond immediately. "The police didn't find a wire."

"That's because I was there that night too, Ray. Hiding. I saw you and Stiles and Morgan. I heard the gunshots. That little trick of keeping the lights turned off was interesting. And, as you said, you never intended to give either one of those men a cut of anything. I think the reason Stiles turned on you was because he figured out the same thing. I really think they thought you were dead or at least dying that night and they bolted when they heard the police sirens, even though Stiles was hit and bleeding."

Ray eyed him. "It was you who called the cops."

"Yes. I waited in the building until I knew the police had arrived and Janet would be safe, then I took off."

Ray, his hands still up, eyed Craig with curiosity. "Why is Janet so important to you?"

"She's a nice kid and doesn't deserve to be treated the way you treated her and she certainly didn't need to be swept up in your operation. But more importantly, what triggered _your_ interest in her?"

Ray grinned. "Sheriff Wilcox. Cold Creek. You remember Cold Creek, don't you? Or maybe you were never there, but your man, Greg, was. The sheriff worked for me. He'd take pictures of new girls and send them to me. One look at Janet's picture was all I needed. The resemblance is uncanny, wouldn't you say so? I know you saw it too. That's why I lured her to San Francisco. All it took was a very slick mailer. An advertisement for an opportunity to start a new career. A new life in the City by the Bay. She took the bait, came for an interview, and I hired her. I wanted to keep her close by."

"Close by."

"Yes, and you know why." He laughed. "I just didn't realize how clever she could be, or resistant – although I do like that particular side of a woman. Resistance. Make them all the more desirable." He laughed then let out a sigh. "No, she'd become a situation so that night was going to be a turning point in her career, or rather the end of it. I couldn't afford for her to discuss the projects we worked on."

"I'm sorry to say you're a little late. She already has."

"But I still have her. And a few weeks from now, she will be my compensation for your intrusion into my business. Your interference. And without her to confirm your accusations about me, I don't think anyone will believe you. Even if they did, without any proof they won't be able to convict me of anything. I covered my tracks."

"Your compensation," Craig repeated.

"Oh, come now, Hamilton. Don't pretend to be so naive."

Craig chuckled. "I know what you meant, I just wanted to hear you admit what you've been up to; what you plan to do. And as soon as I'm through with you, the police will get everything we've collected about your operation. Everything. And believe me, there's plenty of evidence."

Ray let out a laugh. "You don't have anything that will hold up in a court of law!"

Craig smiled. "Court of law? Justice sometimes comes outside of the traditional courts of law in our business, as you well know. In our world, we tend to mete out justice as we see fit. The police can conduct their investigation, but as for justice, you will pay."

Ray relaxed even more. "It's because of Julienne, isn't it? That's why you've been hounding me all these years. That's what started all of this. You know she could have been very valuable to my organization."

Craig didn't respond.

"You didn't know I recruited her, did you? She never told you that, did she? Yes. She thought I was looking for an assistant, just like Janet. Office worker, you know? I knew she was anxious to leave home. Get away from her father. Take care of herself. Seemed like the perfect scenario and I knew she'd bring in top dollar. Then she told me she was pregnant. Six months pregnant. She hid it well. Problem is, my customers. They don't want pregnant women. So, she was another situation that I needed to deal with."

"You needed to deal with?"

"Yes, I couldn't keep her around. I just had to wait for the right time and place."

"I thought her father was behind all of that; the car crash and fire."

A smug expression preceded Ray's reply. "Her father owed me. It helped that he never loved Julienne's mother and never wanted a child by her. Even though the idea of murdering his own wife and child didn't sit well with him, he agreed. He had no choice. He knew what happens to people to cross me. Besides, his mistress and his fortune were more important to him."

"But why deal with her? If you hadn't hired her, she wouldn't have known anything about your business."

"I know. But she'd seen my face. We'd talked. I didn't want any loose ends lying around. You know how it is. And then there was a ghastly automobile accident. Fire everywhere. Her and that newborn baby. Such a tragedy, or so I thought." He eyed Craig with cold, steady eyes.

Craig checked his emotions but kept a steady hand, still pointing his gun at Ray. His voice was calm. "You know Ray, the more I learned about you and your organization the more I knew I had to shut you down for good so you couldn't continue to devastate the lives of women. So, I came up with a plan of my own. One that would carefully lead you along and ultimately to your destruction." His eyes narrowed. "It'll be an eye for an eye. You'll get what you deserve. You stole their innocence. You stole their souls and I intend to steal yours."

Ray erupted in uproarious laughter. "Their innocence! Seriously, most of them were more than happy to be part of my organization. To be treated like princesses and as for you leading me along, oh, come now, Hamilton. It's you who's been dangled along all these years, not me! All these years. Playing with you. Sending you on wild goose chases with trumped-up clues. People will do _anything_ for money. Lie. Cheat. Even kill. You and I have been playing cat and mouse all these years, but I've always had the upper hand. Always!"

Craig maintained his steady gaze, his gun still leveled at Ray, then chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Ray stared at him.

"While I accommodated your teasers and phony leads, others were infiltrating your organization. Watching you. Documenting exchanges of money, people, drugs. Even murder."

Ray glared at him. "You're bluffing."

"We'll see who's bluffing."

"You!" Ray sneered. "You don't have any kind of pull with headquarters because I own headquarters! Global is now in my control and mine alone. Reed was my last hold-out. He became another situation that had to be dealt with. And when I found out he'd pulled you in to take my place, well, that sealed the deal with him."

Ray became belligerent. "You may think you've won this skirmish, but you haven't won the war! I still have people on the inside of each and every Global office now, not just at headquarters. And I will escape from your mediocre grip once again! I'll escape to a place where even you cannot reach me!" Ray laughed again. "You'll see! Your precious little Janet is with my men as we speak. Now she's mine! You've lost her! You've lost her for good, and that makes me very happy. I've taken away something else you apparently treasure."

"She's that important to _you_?" Craig demanded.

"Yes. For two reasons, the first is her intrinsic value, but the second reason is that she's important to you, Hamilton! Honestly, I think she's a bit young for you, but what the hell. Men like what they like, don't they? And you can't have her. She's mine until I don't need her anymore. Then, we'll deal with her just like the others."

Craig leveled his gun at Ray's forehead.

"Go ahead," Ray said. "Pull the trigger. But if you do, your last shred of hope of finding Janet will be lost forever. The game will be over and I will still win!" He smirked. "So, go ahead! I dare you!"

Craig lowered his gun slightly.

Ray laughed. "I knew you didn't have it in you. But my people aren't as squeamish as you are."

Craig froze at the sound of soft shuffling behind him.

"Drop it, Hamilton!" A voice ordered.

Ray lowered his hands and stepped up to him. "You see?" he said, taking Craig's weapon. "You can't win. You never will. I have people everywhere and right now these people are going to take care of you while I catch a ride." Ray turned to leave then stopped and laughed. "See you around – but probably not." He looked at his men. "Take care of him," he said and headed for an exit while rough hands grabbed Craig. "I'm headed for the yacht."

"What about your offshore accounts, Ray?" Craig called out to him. "The ones where you've been parking all that money; hiding it away, even from these thugs. Not to mention the other syndicates you've been working with. You think they won't put the pieces together? Come looking for you? Demand their cut?"

Ray turned around. "You're _still_ bluffing. I don't have any offshore accounts!"

"Don't you? Ray, your name is all over everything."

Ray let out a hearty laugh. "No, it isn't. I made sure it wasn't."

"And I made sure it was. We found the evidence. We changed the ownership – right back to you. Removed Peter's name. Removed Edna's name. It's all on you, Ray."

A clang of metal echoed from somewhere deep in the warehouse. Ray's men nervously swung their guns around and slowly made their way deeper into the warehouse.

Ray continued. "How could you change anything? You didn't have access to any of those files."

"You'd be surprised what I have access to. You're headed for prison Ray, with no hope for parole. I'll see to that. In fact, death row sounds pretty good. They've got a nice cell with your name on it waiting for you. That is if you make it that far. You may be dead long before that."

"No one is going to send me to prison. They'd have to catch me first and they won't. They never do."

"Ray. You've been found out. Caught. It's over. You might as well give up."

Ray squared his shoulders and laughed. "Caught? It looks to me like you're the one who's been caught!" He gestured to one of his men. "Take care of him. _Permanently!_ " I'm outta here."

"You can kill me, Ray," Craig called out to him, "but you'll never be safe. There's not a place on the face of this earth where you'll be safe. Remember that!"

Rough hands jerked Craig away just as something else crashed nearby. Ray immediately whipped around panning the area with Craig's gun gripped in his outstretched hand while his man hung onto Craig, a gun pushed against the side of his head.

Another clang. The man glanced around. Craig took advantage of the distraction and assaulted his captor then ducked behind a pallet of goods keeping it between him, Ray, and his men.

Ray swept his gun back and forth. "You can't get away, Hamilton!" he called out. "None of you will! All the exits are either locked or guarded by my men. One way or another you're all gonna die! All of you whoever you are!" His voice rang out in the vast warehouse.

Craig remained hidden but watched Ray continue to scan the area. There was another clang of metal. Ray whipped around facing the direction of the sound. _"Who's there!"_ he demanded. _"Come out where I can see you!"_ All became silent.

Craig moved deeper into the warehouse, staying in shadowy areas, but kept Ray within sight between stacks of loaded pallets. A door in the distance slammed shut. Ray was now unnerved and called out to one of his men, "Bert! Is that you?" There was no answer. He swung around again; the gun still tightly gripped in his outstretched hand. _"Hamilton! And whoever else is in here, I will find you and when I do –!"_

A motor kicked on and so did the lights. An overhead crane system began to slowly move a hoist carrying a loaded pallet. Ray was momentarily distracted and Craig darted toward a door, losing sight of him. A shot rang out with an immediate ping and spark nearby. Craig ducked down again and stayed close to a wall of packed pallets. He carefully moved along one side of the warehouse listening and watching.

Suddenly the crane stopped. The lights went out at the same time and the entire place was thrown into darkness with very little light coming in from the dirty translucent skylights overhead.

Craig crouched down as a dark mass moved past by only a few feet. He remained still then heard a bird chirp. Seconds later another bird chirped farther away in the opposite direction. He grinned and waited. Moments later, the lights came back on and the crane began to move again. He heard shuffling nearby just as the large warehouse doors swung open. Outside, lights flooded the interior and shots were fired as shouting penetrated the interior of the building.

# CHAPTER 33

_"FBI! Nobody move! FBI! FBI! Nobody move!"_ Agent Faye Monroe and several other FBI agents rushed the warehouse, guns drawn. _"Get on the ground!_ _Get on the ground!_ " another agent shouted as he quickly approached Ray's two men and their dog _. Now! Hands where we can see them!"_

The men dropped to their knees, hands raised, blinking in the bright lights of several FBI vehicle headlights aimed into the warehouse.

"Put the guns down and shove them away!"

Reluctantly each did so. The dog began to bark and growl at the agents.

"Calm that dog or I'll put a bullet in it!" an agent said.

"It's okay, boy! It's okay. Sit!" one of the men said. The dog complied long enough for an agent to grab the leash to pull it away then it began barking and snarling again.

"Where's Ray Martindale!" Agent Monroe demanded. "Where is he?"

"W-We don't know," one man answered. "He told us to wait at the boat but we heard something inside and came back to see if he needed our help."

"Heard something? Like what?"

"I don't know. It's a warehouse. Could be anything."

"Was Ray in here?"

"He was, but all we know is he was going to make a phone call then get to the boat," the man said. "That was about fifteen minutes ago."

"What boat! How big a boat!"

"At the Marina. A yacht."

Two agents were dispatched to investigate. Agent Monroe took two other agents and moved farther back into the warehouse.

"He's so damn slippery!" one agent said.

"Well if he isn't here –" Faye began.

"Then he's already on a boat and hightailing it out of here," the other agent said in frustration. "Hopefully it hasn't gotten too far yet."

Faye and her partner holstered their guns and headed toward another agent who was on the phone. He hung up and greeted her.

"We lost him," she said. "But those two jerks in there said something about a boat. You see any boats pull out of here in the last few minutes?"

"No. But I'll ask around."

Another agent walked up to her.

"I don't know what more we can do, Greg," Faye said to him. "It always turns out the same. He slithers away just before we can nab him."

"I know," Greg said, "but this tip seemed genuine enough." Greg Danes, a seasoned investigator, had previously worked with the FBI on some similar cases involving Ray Martindale and was well acquainted with the man and his ongoing illegal operations.

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe it was a distraction. That seems to be his modus operandi and we always end up feeling like we're being played, you know?" Faye was frustrated and agitated.

"Yeah. I know."

"Hey, Danes!" someone called out.

He gave a wave. "Be right there! I'd better go see what they want."

"Yeah. Go ahead. I need a few minutes. Oh, and ask around about a boat!" Faye strolled to the edge of the pier on the east side of Treasure Island and gazed out across the Bay and at the lights of Emeryville and Berkeley beyond. She frowned, then looked more closely at what appeared to be a yacht slowly plying its way along just beyond their location, but not in any hurry. "Yacht," she said and stared.

"Hey!" She called out to the two agents returning from the marina. "What's that look like to you?" They followed her gaze. "A boat! A nice one and seaworthy."

"Get the Coast Guard on the line," she ordered. "We need to stop that yacht!"

"I'm on it!" the agent said already on his phone.

"What do you bet he's headed for open waters," she said. "He intends to leave the country!"

The frigid bay waters made it difficult for Craig to hang onto a bright blue fender dangling from the side of Ray's yacht. His feet and legs felt the pull of the powerful yacht engines as it dragged him alongside the stern in the murky bay waters. He had barely managed to swim to it before it picked up speed as it exited the marina. Winded and losing body heat, he used every ounce of energy he could muster, to pull himself up and sit on a wide lip that wrapped around the stern of the yacht at the waterline; a design feature he was very grateful for at the moment. He thought it unlike Ray to use a boat with such a feature if he intended to cross open water outside of the Golden Gate. It would be too east to swamp the boat in high seas unless that was his plan – meet up with another, and more seaworthy boat then sink the yacht to help cover his escape.

Still gripping the fender, he pulled up again until he was able to stand on the lip grasping the rail to catch his breath and keep from falling overboard. Carefully, moving farther on board, he saw Ray watching the progress of the yacht from forward windows not realizing Craig had managed to get on board and was right behind him. Craig listened intently hoping no one else was below decks coming up or heading down from the helm.

"You'll never get out of this bay alive, Ray," Craig called out over the sound of the powerful engines. Though dripping wet, he was poised for an inevitable confrontation.

Ray whipped around, surprised but genuinely impressed to see his adversary still very much alive. He quickly recovered. "You just don't give up, do you?" Ray stared at Craig. "This relentless pursuit of me will get you nowhere! I've eluded you countless times over the years and I will continue to elude you."

"Not this time, Ray."

Ray laughed heartily. "I already have. You cannot possibly stop me. Not all by yourself. Not now. Not ever. And as for your pretty little girl, she's mine and all she is worth is mine. Finally. Hiring her was a coup. Keeping her is a stunning victory and one you cannot take away from me. One way or another you will die and she will still be mine – to do with whatever I choose."

"You're disgusting!" Craig lunged at him.

Ray pulled a gun. "I'd like nothing better than to shoot you; right here; right now, but we'll wait to take care of you. Once we put to sea, you'll meet your end and I'll be through with you once and for all! It will be a watery grave for you."

"You will _never_ get away with this, Ray!" Craig said, though thoroughly exhausted from his desperate swim to catch the yacht in the extremely cold waters of the bay.

Ray laughed loudly. "You keep saying that. You've said that for years, but look at you. Drenched. Freezing. And I'm the one holding a gun. Do you really think you can stop me? Right now, I'd say you're at a disadvantage, wouldn't you?" He laughed again. "You are beaten. Old. Worn out. You're losing your touch, Hamilton, and you've lost again. She was a pretty little thing, your Julienne. Beautiful eyes, soft skin – really soft – and with a lot of fight in her. We have clients who like that in a woman. I had great plans for her. She was going to be my queen. Reign at my side. I was going to lavish her with all manner of expensive and beautiful things, all paid for by her family's wealth of course." He laughed. "But she just wouldn't cooperate."

Ray's mood suddenly changed. "Then there was Frank."

"What about Frank?" Craig asked, surprised at the mention of his name.

"He wanted her, too. His plan was to marry her so we could get our hands on her family fortune. But she had already fallen in love with you. Now we were in a quandary. If we attempted another abduction –" He paused. "Yes, well, I had made up my mind to let her go so he could carry out his plan. I told him to have at it!" Ray laughed. "He did manage to spend some _quality_ time with her, but when we later found out she was pregnant, I declared her unsuitable. Useless to me. But then I already explained that as well. The problem was, we didn't know for sure who the kid's daddy was." He eyed Craig. "Do you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on, Hamilton! Of course, you do! Julienne. She had a baby. Secretly, of course. Her pretentious and ostentatious family were determined to do whatever they could to avoid public shame. What they planned to do with the baby, I have no idea. But that doesn't matter now, does it?"

Craig took a step toward Ray.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ray asked. A creak distracted him for an instant and Craig took advantage. He lunged and managed to knock the gun out of Ray's hand sending it flying across the open deck of the yacht.

They went at each other blow for blow. A crewman hurried down from the upper deck to see what was going on. By now Ray's lip was split and bleeding. He levied a blow to Craig's gut doubling him over. The crewman had his gun poised.

"Don't shoot him!" Ray shouted. "Not yet!"

"But I had a clean shot!"

"We can't risk his body being found in the bay. Once we're at sea, you can do whatever you want to him, just be sure you dump him in a shipping lane!"

Craig made another attempt, but Ray and his crewman had the advantage. "Take him below," Ray ordered, "and put him with our other guest for now. We'll dispose of them both at sea." Ray hurried to the side of the boat to see where they were. "We need to pick up our speed. I'm going up to the helm. Get him outta here!"

Strong hands grabbed Craig, pulling him away. Craig attempted to resist, but the crewman landed him a heavy blow on his upper back, then shoved him toward the ladder leading below decks. Seconds later, the yacht surged ahead catching both men off balance for a moment. The Crewman regained his balance and pushed Craig down the ladder where he landed with a thud. He remained still, trying to catch his breath and find renewed strength. Both eluded him.

Craig was well aware Ray's plan was to leave the bay and head into open waters. He also knew he needed to get off the boat before they passed beneath the Golden Gate Bridge.

The yacht maintained its heading and speed, using the inbound shipping channel as a short cut out of the Bay. The rain managed to drop any residual low-lying clouds giving the helmsman better visibility.

In the meantime, the crewman and Craig were below decks. He grabbed Craig's arms and dragged him into a cabin then left, closing the door. Craig took a moment to breathe then struggled to pull himself up sufficiently to sit on the edge of a bunk. A porthole barely glowed from exterior lights from downtown San Francisco. He looked out and could see Coit Tower. That concerned him. They were gaining on the Golden Gate bridge. Once they cleared it, it was open sea ahead and any hopes of escape would be gone.

Somewhere out there, beyond the territorial limit and in international waters, Craig was sure a larger more seaworthy craft was likely anchored and waiting. He couldn't let Ray get that far. He couldn't let the man slip through his fingers again. His only hope was that one of his own men had already called the Coast Guard for assistance.

Craig leaned against the cabin wall, his head pounding. He could feel the movement of the yacht as its powerful engines cut through the choppy bay waters casting great sprays of seawater to each side. But he couldn't waste any more time.

Trying to focus in the dark, he could see there were two bunks; the one he was sitting on and another one across from him. It looked like something was on the other bunk. He leaned over to touch whatever it was and got a reaction. He quickly withdrew his hand.

"Who's there?" he asked. "Who are you?" He squinted in the gloom then thought he could hear sobbing and leaned over again. "I'm going to help you sit up." As he did, he realized the person's hands and feet were bound. He released both the feet and hands then helped the person into a better sitting position. In the dim light, he was able to make out that it was a woman, with her mouth taped shut.

"I'm going to take the tape off. It's going to hurt a little, I'm afraid. He barely saw the head nod. As gently as possible, he removed the tape and the woman grabbed him.

"Craig!" she said, sobbing.

He reacted. "Janet?"

He pulled back to take a closer look then said her name again. "Janet!" He held her tight. "My god! I thought I'd lost you," he said. "I thought I lost you." He kissed her forehead. "Janet. My sweet Janet." He looked at her closely. "We have to get off this boat. They're headed out to sea."

She nodded. "I'm so scared but how did you know I was on this boat? How did you get here?"

"We'll talk about that later. Right now, we have to get off this boat and we're running out of time – fast." He kissed her forehead again. "Can you walk?"

"I'll try."

"Okay. We have to go up top, but no talking. Understand?" He took her hand.

She nodded and clung to him tightly.

Surprisingly, the door wasn't locked. Together they made their way to the upper deck. Craig listened. He could hear Ray and his two men on the helm deck above, talking and laughing.

He led Janet to the fantail and noted their approximate location and the heading. The rain was blowing into the back of the yacht, drenching Janet's hair, whipping it around as she clung to the rail desperately trying to hang on. The boat lurched and skipped across the water, plowing through advancing waves and the continuously pelting rain.

Craig signaled for her to stay put then opened a nearby compartment and pulled out two life jackets. He closed the lid and handed one to her. Using gestures more than words he indicated they were going to jump overboard.

Janet immediately shook her head violently. "I can't swim very well," she said frantically.

"Shh," he said and quickly looked over his shoulder. "It's okay. This will help and I'll be right there with you." He helped fasten her into the flotation device then secured his. "We'll jump together and stay together. Ready?"

She nodded nervously, staring at the inky black sea tossing in the wind and rain, poised to jump.

Out of the corner of his eye, Craig saw the same crewman he had encountered previously.

He had a gun pointed at them. "And just where do you two think you're going?" he called out over the sound of the wind and rain. "Step away from the fantail," he said and waved the gun at them.

Craig looked at Janet then back at the man. "And if we don't?"

"Burial at sea, for you, but she's coming with us."

Craig smiled. "Well, if you insist." He took a step forward then grabbed a deck chair and threw it at the man, knocking him off balance. Craig spun around, picked up Janet and threw her overboard. She let out a terrified scream as she hit the water. He started to follow when the sailor took aim from the floor and fired. The shot missed. The sailor got to his feet and took aim again. Craig rushed him. In the struggle, the gun fell to the floor. Craig managed to kick it away as they continued to struggle.

Ray shouted from the above deck and rushed down the stairs. In the meantime, the helmsman continued to guide the yacht at a high rate of speed in their desperate attempt to clear the bridge and reach open waters.

Though encumbered by his life jacket, Craig fought back, getting in a few strong blows. Ray stood with his gun raised but couldn't get a clean shot until the crewman pulled away and, in that instant, Ray took his shot.

# CHAPTER 34

Charlie, John, and Hector kept a safe distance from the activity at the crime scene but within hearing distance of some official personnel. They hunched against the rain blowing directly at them. Although the sound was muffled due to the wind, they thought they overheard that a Coast Guard cutter, several miles south of San Francisco, was on their way to intercept a yacht suspected of illegal activity and presumed on a heading to international waters to avoid capture.

"I hope they catch that bastard," Hector said in response.

They also watched a couple of FBI agents talking to another man, then realized it was Greg Danes.

"They brought Danes in," John said, staying low. "I'm going in closer. See what I can find out."

A few minutes later he returned. "A fisherman radioed that he picked up a woman from the bay," he said. "Apparently he was getting ready to head in for the night and was just about to start up his engine when he thought he heard someone scream. He saw a yacht speeding away then thought he saw someone hit the water in its wake."

"A woman?" Hector looked at his companions with concern. "We need to find out who the woman is."

"You think it might be Janet?" Charlie asked.

"My gut says so," Hector said.

"And Craig?"

John stepped away. "Let me see if I can talk to Greg."

"Okay," Charlie said. "Do that but be discreet. In the meantime, we need a boat. And fast."

"I'm on it," Hector said. He hurried to the marina gate leading to the berths. The normally locked gate was slightly ajar. _The Feds must have gotten in so they could look around_ , he thought to himself. _Lucky for us they forgot to lock the gate._

Most of the craft tied up were sailboats but he spied one motorboat close by. He donned examination gloves then climbed in and waited for John and Charlie. They soon arrived, put on gloves as well, and climbed aboard. In their many years of experience, they'd learned carry gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints on anything. With the aft and forward lines untied, Hector started the boat's engine then hurried to the cockpit to take the controls.

"What else did you find out?" he asked John.

"Young female," he said. "The fisherman picked her up just around the northern tip of this island. The yacht was speeding in the direction of the Golden Gate but using the inbound lane."

"Yeah, a short cut. Lucky for them the bay is quiet at this time of night, and with the weather like it is," Hector said. "Not so lucky for us if we're going to try to catch up to them."

They eased the boat out of its slip then Hector guided it along the waterway. With all the activity along the wharf, it was their hope no one would notice the small boat leaving the marina.

You had to manually start this thing?" John asked.

Hector nodded as he continued piloting the boat. "Yeah. It helps when the motor comes with an emergency pull rope tucked inside the housing. Perfect for emergencies like this. Just like starting a lawnmower."

Charlie called out to John. "You say that skipper picked the woman up just around the north end of this island?"

"Yes. He's bringing her back here. An ambulance is already on the way."

They watched the nearby waterfront and the ongoing activity taking place by way of all the vehicle headlights and a few portable ones set up. Even with the rain and wind beating on everyone and everything, the investigation was in full swing, especially inside the warehouse.

"There!" Charlie said and pointed. "That boat coming in. See? It's a fishing boat and pulling up to the pier."

They watched and were relieved when they spotted an ambulance making its way down the connecting road from Yerba Buena Island to the man-made Treasure Island.

"Okay," Charlie said. "Now that they're assisting with Janet, if that's who it is, and distracted, we need to find Craig and fast!"

"That's assuming he was also on that yacht," Hector said over the engine noise, as he increased their speed. "But they have the advantage. Bigger boat. More speed."

"I don't care," Charlie said. "Keep going. You're sure they were using the inbound lane?"

"Affirmative. That's what I overheard. Like I said, a short cut if you want a quick getaway outta this bay. The inbound lane is a more direct route."

Hector visually scanned the inbound shipping lane as he kept up their speed heading toward the Golden Gate Bridge. By now, though, incoming freighters would have dropped anchor outside the bay and wouldn't enter until the next morning, especially with the current weather conditions.

John handed a life jacket to Hector. "I sure hope Craig is still on that yacht and not in these frigid waters.

"Is he wearing his watch?" Hector called out.

"I'm checking that now," John said. "He should be unless he or someone else took it off." John used his phone and an application designed to track each other's phones or similar electronic devices, such as a smartwatch, by way of global positioning systems.

"Can you pick up his signal?" Charlie asked.

"Working on it!" John said. "As long as it wasn't damaged somehow or he didn't lose it I should get something. Just give me a few moments here!" He got a reading. "Got it! But I don't think he's on the yacht. The signal isn't moving."

"And I think I see the yacht!" Charlie said and pointed to running lights in the distance. "It's traveling fast, too fast for the Bay waters. And if Craig fell or was thrown overboard, it's not going to be easy to find him out here," Charlie said. "The water is as black as the sky. It'll be a miracle if we can find him alive."

"Then pray for a miracle!" John said and got closer to Hector. "The signal is just ahead and to the south about one degree."

"But how much farther ahead?" Hector asked. "And do we know if the tide is coming in or going out?"

"I'm guessing about 240 yards," John said. "And as for the tide, I'm not sure. Just keep up your speed. I'll tell you when to cut back." He kept watching the monitor then quickly told Hector to cut the engine.

"Let's hope we don't drift into him," Hector said.

Craig was dazed, and extremely cold, bobbing in the frigid bay waters. His life jacket was keeping his head above water, but not preventing the briny and choppy waves from splashing seawater into his mouth and nose. Coughing and sputtering with each passing minute he became more disoriented. He guessed the water temperature had to be around fifty-five degrees. With his years of training, he knew he had to keep his wits, even in his dazed condition. He also knew he wouldn't be able to survive much longer since cold water saps body heat more rapidly than frigid air, but he also had a gunshot wound to his shoulder and that didn't help. He had no idea how much blood he'd already lost which would complicate matters considerably.

He gazed toward the San Francisco skyline to his left. It was a blur to him but he could make out the City lights reflecting across the water, as the rain continued. He could barely make out the shape of the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance, with the upper reaches of its towers shrouded in low clouds. It all glowed from the amber-colored halogen bridge lights.

Off to his right, the lighthouse on Alcatraz Island swept its bright and bluish light around, warning all mariners of the island's rocky presence. At least he had a pretty good idea where he was, not that it mattered. He wanted to call out for help, but he knew no one would hear him, much less be able to find him in the dark. He thought of Janet. Tossing her overboard was a desperate act to save her. He remembered her scream as she hit the water and that he intended to jump as well, except for that one last struggle and getting shot.

He remembered how the impact of the bullet threw him against the rail of the boat and he lost his balance, and how the initial shock of the cold water felt as he fell overboard. Janet. She was out here too but he had no idea where. She would succumb to hypothermia just like he would. No one but Ray and his crew knew they'd gone overboard and at this point, they could care less in their own desperate attempt to escape the authorities.

"Janet!" He called out anyway, hoping she was nearby and might hear him. "Janet!" he called again, but his voice was weak and barely audible over the sound of the rain and wind. It was no use. His energy was waning fast and his throat already hurt from the briny seawater. His arms and hands were growing numb and his legs were already useless. It didn't matter. He knew that if he tried to swim for shore, he'd lose body heat more quickly and hypothermia would set in faster. Either way, it was a losing battle. He never expected to die in such an obscure manner and especially without finally settling his issues with Ray. He just wanted justice for Ray's years-worth of gruesome crimes.

Craig managed to look at his watch. The green numbers glowed but he was having a hard time focusing. Everything was blurry. He kept squinting then gave up and let his head tilt back. He closed his eyes. "No," he said wearily. Stay awake. Stay awake." He forced his eyes open and looked up. In addition to the small waves slapping at his face, the rain kept coming, but it didn't seem to be as heavy as before. He closed his eyes, anyway, convinced no one would find him. "I'm just a little speck out here. No one's going find me until by body washes up somewhere, if anywhere."

He thought of Janet once again. "I never meant for you to get hurt," he said, barely audible. "I was supposed to protect you. _Julienne, mon amour_. I promised myself I'd come back for you and take care of you. _Je promets_."

His thoughts drifted as he bobbed in the undulating waters, his legs now completely numb. His mind played tricks on him. Voices calling his name. "Probably angels," he said and tried to laugh at the thought but didn't have the energy. Still, he did hear something, he was sure. Another choppy wave swelled over him, covering his mouth and nose. He gaged on the seawater then thought of Janet one last time. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I wish I could have saved you." His eyes grew heavy. "Jimmy. I failed you too. I'm so sorry. So sorry."

Their nerves on edge, all three men stared straight ahead as Hector revved up the engine slightly to adjust their course toward the coordinates.

Charlie peered into the darkness at the black water. The breeze was stiff and cold and rain still pelted the area. "He should have let Ray go and not attempted to take him down on his own. He's gotten too personally involved in this case," he said.

Hector and John looked at each other knowingly.

Charlie kept talking, more to himself than anyone else. "He should have turned all of his discoveries over to the agency. All the bits and pieces he's been putting together all these years after finally figuring out it was Ray."

Hector set the controls to idle. "Heads up!" he said. "We're practically on top of him." He flipped a switch on the control panel. A powerful beam from a light mounted on the bow shone out across the water. "John, get up there and sweep that light around if you can."

All were completely soaked and deathly cold but watched as John carefully and slowly swept the powerful beam of light out across the water. The light caught the raindrops in its beam, creating silvery streaks, each making a momentary dimpled crater in the water immediately swallowed up by the choppy waves.

They continued to drift and Charlie called out. " _Craig!_ " They listened for any response. "He might be unconscious. Keep looking!"

All eyes followed the light then Charlie ordered John to sweep it back again. "Right there!" Charlie scrambled forward. He pointed. "Over there! Hector! Bring her to port about two degrees. I think we've found him!"

In moments, they were alongside Craig who was now fully unconscious as they feared. His soaked and lifeless body bobbed in the water making it difficult to pull him into the boat. But once done, they laid him on the bottom, turning him on his side. John found a folded canvas tarp in a compartment and draped it over him. "He's still breathing, but barely!"

"Get us outta here!" Charlie shouted while he and John began to vigorously rub Craig's extremities and talk to him.

Hector made a dead run back toward Treasure Island, but rather than going to the marina, he headed for an abandoned pier on the west side.

Hector carefully pulled up alongside the rotting pier, getting as close to the cobbled bank along the shore as possible without running aground. Charlie tossed a couple of fenders over the side to protect the boat from banging against the mangled pier then grabbed the aft line and secured it to a weathered piling. John similarly tied up the bow.

"I'll run to the van and bring it back here," Hector said. "We parked it not far from here."

"Okay," Charlie replied, "but do your best not to draw any attention."

"Copy that."

Charlie and John continued to work on Craig, grateful he was still breathing. They kept him lying still while Hector scrambled onto the pier. He approached a chain-link fence erected to keep people off the unsafe structure then scrambled over the top and hopped an additional barricade of plywood nearer to the street. In spite of his exhaustion, a surge of adrenaline gave him the added strength to trot up the road toward the marina, less than a quarter-mile away. Police activity was still in full swing at the warehouse a half block away from and out of sight of the parking lot where they'd left their van.

Reaching the vehicle, Hector climbed in, and as with all their vehicles, interior lights were permanently disabled. He started the engine and without turning on headlights, pulled out of the parking lot and was back at the pier access in minutes. Grabbing a bolt cutter from a toolbox, he hurried to the chain-link fence and cut through several links to create an opening. It would be easier to get Craig out, he'd reasoned. Once done, he set the tool down and hurried to join his friends. Together, they hoisted him up and out of the boat using the tarp as a makeshift stretcher.

"Okay. Let's go," Charlie said then noticed a tear in Craig's shirt. "He's been shot."

They carefully eased Craig through the cut portion of the chain-link fence and lifted him over the plywood barricade. At the van, they laid Craig out, tarp and all, on the floor right behind the front seats. John pulled two emergency blankets from the back then climbed in with Charlie to attend to Craig. Hector retrieved the bolt cutters and was back behind the wheel with the engine running in seconds.

"Nice and easy," Charlie said.

Hector pulled away from the curb and headed south along the water's edge. As soon as they were out of sight of the police activity, he turned on the headlights. Soon they transitioned from Treasure Island to Yerba Buena Island then onto the Bay Bridge heading back into San Francisco. Although traffic was busy, it wasn't nearly as bad as it would have been during the day.

As they approached downtown, Hector asked, "Where to?"

"Craig's place," Charlie said. "The one he's renting in Presidio Heights."

"Nice neighborhood," John said.

"Yes, it is, and quiet. You know how Craig likes his privacy. Take us there."

They rode in silence as wiper blades rhythmically fought off rain from the windshield. Thirty minutes later, after following Charlie's directions, Hector pulled into a short driveway and up to a wide garage door. Charlie got out and stepped up to a keypad in a small compartment mounted to one side. It was slightly hidden behind a neatly trimmed shrub. Soon the door began to roll up and Hector eased their vehicle inside next to Craig's personal car. Charlie followed on foot then lowered the door. He found the spare key hidden in a box on a shelf in the garage then all three hurried to get Craig inside.

"We need to gently warm him up and check that wound," Charlie said looking at his unconscious friend. "Is he still breathing?" The question was sobering.

"I checked him when we pulled up," John said. "He's still breathing; shallow breaths; but still alive. I just hope he didn't swallow or aspirate a lot of seawater."

Still using the canvas tarp, they carefully carried him to his bedroom, a spacious room at the back of the house, and got him out of his wet clothing.

"We need to warm him slowly," John said. "Don't want him to go into cardiac arrest."

"Agreed," Charlie said. "Let's cover him up with the bedding but look for extra blankets. We can heat them in the clothes dryer and add them on top." He checked Craig's hands and feet. "He's lucky to be alive. Let's keep him that way."

John found two more blankets in the closet and hurried to warm them while Charlie and Hector gently rubbed Craig's arms and legs to help stimulate circulation."

Charlie watched for signs of movement. "If he regains consciousness, we can give him warm liquids, otherwise this is the best we can do for now without calling for medical help."

"Which we want to avoid," Hector said.

"Yes, we do," Charlie agreed with a nod, "Especially with that gunshot wound." He picked up the remote and turned on a wall-mounted television finding a news station. "Let me know if you hear anything interesting," he said. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm going to get us something to eat." He could hear the dryer working in the nearby laundry room as he headed for the kitchen and straight to the refrigerator.

Charlie found a jug of orange juice and closed the refrigerator door. He waited and listened to the sound of the dryer still working. Satisfied, he made a phone call. "We've got him," he said to someone on the line. "I don't know. I think he was in the water for a while and he has a gunshot wound." He listened. "I understand. We're doing what we can for him." He listened again. "I'll keep you posted."

He hung up and dug around in the pantry, put an assortment of food on a tray, and took it, along with the orange juice and some glasses, to the bedroom.

"Guess what?" Hector said as Charlie walked in.

"What?"

"It _was_ Janet the fisherman pulled out of the water. She's in the hospital and expected to make a full recovery but she keeps insisting they look for Craig."

Charlie stood and watched as the news anchor switched to a different story. "That could be useful," he said as John returned with the blankets. He helped lay them across Craig's body but on top of the other bedding.

"I know," Hector said. "If they can't find his body, they will likely assume he drowned. And with the currents and tides, as they are in the bay, they may eventually decide he was swept out to sea, which means he's off the radar."

"Exactly," Charlie said. "And hopefully he'll be off Ray's radar too." Charlie watched for a moment longer then said he needed to use the restroom.

Once he was out of the room, John stood close to Hector. "Charlie made a phone call a couple of minutes ago."

"He did?"

John nodded and shared what he was able to overhear.

Hector stared out the bedroom door nodding his head slightly but wondered about the purpose of Charlie's seemingly secret call.

# CHAPTER 35

It had been nearly three weeks since the FBI sting. Janet was released from the hospital after one week, but not until a therapist spent considerable time with her. Janet also recently found out she'd been accepted to a coping program in Colorado. The program worked with individuals dealing with traumatic experiences. Although she already suspected an accompanying diagnosis, Janet learned she was definitely suffering from Post-traumatic Stress Disorder beginning with her experience over two years ago. The recent events certainly hadn't helped any.

Although concerned about the cost, the therapist assured her everything would be taken care of through a special foundation. She also learned more about PTSD and how the program would help her learn skills to deal and live with the trauma she'd experienced. Although grateful, she was skeptical as she struggled with her recent experience. And she was especially troubled about the fate of Craig. No one was talking about him or whether or not he managed to survive. Naturally, she assumed the worst. But in spite of it all, the holiday season managed to get into full swing even without Janet's customary over-the-top participation. Mostly, she was thankful to be alive and out and about taking in the delightful and traditional holiday trappings of the City, but as a bystander.

There was one thing she was eager to see – a long-standing tradition in San Francisco. It was the elaborate gingerbread creation on display in the grand lobby of the St. Francis Hotel, more aptly described as a gingerbread castle. Janet discovered it took months to create the castle which stood about twelve feet high when finished. At its base was a delightful village, complete with shops, elf figures, and trees, all made of sugar. Skirting the castle, a model train pulled cars filled with tiny sugared gifts.

After about an hour enjoying the display, she exited the St. Francis Hotel and breathed in deeply. Christmas was one week away and the City was more than ready for it, particularly at Union Square with its towering Christmas tree, alit with twinkling lights. Adjacent to it was the traditional ice-skating rink filled with people decked out in their festive attire of sweaters, stocking caps, and mittens. Bordering all of it were department stores and shops adorned with colorful window displays, some animated, in addition to all kinds of other lavish decorations enticing shoppers to enter.

Slowly wandering past the skating rink, she thought of the phone conversation she'd had when her mother called the previous day; a call prompted by the numerous news reports broadcast across the nation. Janet decided not to tell her about the impending treatment in Colorado. In spite of their differences, she didn't want her mother to worry about her, especially at this time of year. She explained that work was keeping her in California and she wouldn't be able to fly home to Wisconsin for Christmas. Janet's sister Mary, however, would be with her for the holiday. Janet felt a momentary pang of loneliness but managed to shake it off. The last thing she wanted to do was face myriad questions about her most recent ordeal and her mother's likely, and repeated request that she move back home.

In order to compensate not being with the family directly, Janet planned on preparing a nice traditional dinner for herself. If nothing else, it would be an outward attempt at having something of a normal Christmas. Her plans were to stay in her pajamas all day and watch favorite holiday movies while a small turkey breast roasted in the oven. She wouldn't mind being alone, she kept telling herself and decided she was actually looking forward to it. It would be quiet and peaceful, something she really needed right now.

After all, was said and done, regarding Global and its closing, Janet moved into a new apartment closer to downtown, thanks to a benefactor who remained anonymous. Detective Carson said she'd be much safer there and although the threat to her life seemed all but gone, he insisted a detail would watch her apartment building during the night at least for a while. Janet was grateful.

"PTSD," she mumbled to herself. The diagnosis was a shocking surprise but she soon learned that anyone can develop post-traumatic stress if they've been exposed to something devastatingly traumatic. Even worse, the symptoms might not even become evident for months or sometimes not until years after the event.

Growing pensive, she moved along, checking her few bags to make sure she had everything she'd planned on getting before returning to her new apartment. Her thoughts wandered. She was raised in a single-parent home by a loving mother, but without knowing anything about her father.

She and her sister used to spend hours imagining who he was and what he must have been like. He'd always been a mystery man. She didn't even know what he looked like. Her mother said any pictures she'd had of him were destroyed in a fire – a fire that neither she or Mary could remember. It was odd, she often thought, that there was nothing left of him, so she and her sister made up an imaginary life for him. They imagined what he might have looked like and pretended he would have been the best father in the whole world.

There was one small tidbit, however. When she was about thirteen years old, she overheard a conversation between her mom and grandmother. Her mother was crying and she thought she heard her grandmother ask if 'he' was still living in Canada, but that was it and she never asked about it realizing it was perhaps a painful topic, but for some reason, Janet decided the 'he' meant her father.

"Canada," Janet said aloud. "I wonder if he's still there and alive? I wonder if he remarried and has a family and if they'll be spending Christmas together. It would probably be a white Christmas, especially living in Canada."

Suddenly remembering she needed to get one last gift for Alex, she quickly entered a shop, made a purchase, and was just walking out when she bumped into a passerby.

"Whoa! I'm so sorry," she said apologizing to an elderly gentleman slightly bent over. He was dressed warmly, with a worn-out old fedora hat pulled down snuggly on his head. He had a cane and walked with a slight shuffle.

"That's quite alright, my dear. My, my, it looks like you've been busy," he said. His voice was soft but cultured and with an accent, that suggested he was British. He sounded a little tired but otherwise had a pleasant smile framed by a nicely trimmed mustache and beard, both heavily streaked with gray.

"Oh, it's just a lot of last-minute stuff, you know." She adjusted her grip on one of the bags.

"It's a wonderful time of year, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes. It is. Very festive."

"You need help with those packages?"

She grinned. "Oh no, thank you. I'm fine. They're more bulky than heavy. Besides, I don't have far to go. Just to the bus stop."

"Well, that is certainly convenient. So am I. Do you mind if I accompany you?"

"Not at all." Janet was somewhat amused with her unexpected companion. She figured he was well into his eighties. Being slightly bent over she could only guess his height, but she figured he might be close to six feet. The well-worn fedora helped keep the light rain off his head, along with a comfortable looking overcoat with matching gloves to keep him dry and warm. He used a cane sparingly but altogether, he appeared very stylish.

"Do you live downtown?" she asked.

"Yes. At a delightful hotel for seniors," he replied as he shuffled along, tapping the cane occasionally. "It's nice to be so close to everything, don't you agree?" He puffed a little as he walked.

"I do." Janet kept pace with the gentleman as they eventually reached the bus stop. "I wish there was a place for you to sit," she said.

"Oh, I'll be fine," he said. "I'll just catch my breath while we wait.

It wasn't long before the bus arrived. Janet stood behind the older man and waited for him to mount the steps. She climbed onboard behind him then sat next to him on a bench facing sideways at the front of the bus. He stared across the bus and out the opposite window.

"Such lovely decorations. I dearly love Christmas."

"Yes. Me too."

Someone moved past them and bumped into the man's cane.

"I am so sorry, sir," the passenger said to him.

"No harm done," he said and added, "Merry Christmas." He turned to Janet. "I don't like being called sir," he said. "I've not been dubbed, you know."

Janet stared at him then giggled. "Dubbed?"

"Yes. You've not heard of that?"

"I don't think so."

"What. You've never heard someone say, 'I dub thee Sir Galahad or some such nonsense?" He grinned.

"Oh, that. Okay. Then I guess I have heard about someone being dubbed."

"Do you know of anyone who's been dubbed?" he asked.

"Not personally, no. Have you?"

"Oh, my yes. Several gents as a matter of fact. It's quite an impressive ceremony, you know. Quite proper."

"I see." She eyed him curiously. "Are you from England?"

He grinned at her. "What gave it away?"

She smiled but didn't respond. Instead, she was intrigued by him and guessed he was probably lonely and just wanted to talk to someone.

He kept smiling. "Do you have a young man?"

"A what?"

"A young man. A-A boyfriend?"

"Well not exactly a boyfriend, but I do have a very nice male friend."

The old man looked at her with a steady gaze. "Is he good looking like me?" His eyes seemed to twinkle.

Janet laughed. "No. Not nearly as handsome and he's a bit younger than you and a little taller, I think. But you are much more charming."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Quite sure," she said with a grin and studied him more closely.

He winked at her and grinned back. "Will you be spending Christmas with him?" he asked.

She looked away for a moment then answered. "No. Not this year." She looked away again and thought of Alex. She never did find out what happened to him and it was painful to think about the possible consequences of their capture and detainment at the warehouse. After he attempted to find a way for the two of them to escape, he had been captured and that was the last time she saw him.

The old man tapped his cane lightly on the floor of the bus.

Janet turned to look.

He smiled at her and she returned the smile then looked at him more closely. There was something about him that seemed familiar. She looked away. It was an awkward moment.

"What is your name?" she asked abruptly.

He appeared startled. "Are you, oh what is it you Colonists like to say? Oh, yes, are you hitting on me young lady?"

"What?" Janet recoiled for a moment. "N-No," she replied, "Not at all, sir."

He wagged his finger at her. "Don't call me sir. Remember what I told you."

"Right. Well if I knew what your name was, I'd use it instead."

He kept grinning. "Ah, well I suppose I could tell you. How about Andrew. That's a nice name, wouldn't you agree?"

She eyed him cautiously. "Yes. Andrew is a very nice name." She was unsure what to make of him and suddenly felt very strange about their conversation. The bus was approaching her stop. She stood up and hung onto a pole to steady herself. "Well, this is my stop. It was very nice chatting with you."

The bus pulled up and stopped. Several people got off along with Janet. She re-gripped her packages and started up the sidewalk when a voice called out to her.

"Young lady!"

She turned around just as the bus hissed and pulled away from the curb.

"I believe you dropped this one." It was the old man holding a small package wrapped in shiny green paper and tied with a red ribbon.

She waited for him to catch up and looked at the package. "That's not mine."

"Oh, I know. I just wanted you to stop so I could join you again. He slipped the small box into an outside coat pocket. "I'd like to talk some more. You don't mind, do you?"

"I suppose not but I do need to keep going."

"I understand," the old man said and nodded. "But please, I'd like to visit a bit more. Before I have to go back to that old fogies' home."

She faced him. "I thought you liked where you live."

"Oh, I do, but you see," he glanced around. "There's this woman. She won't leave me alone. She keeps hinting we should marry. I don't want to get married."

Janet was amused. "Then tell her you are flattered but no thank you."

"You would think that would be sufficient. But it isn't. She keeps pressing me. I am beside myself." He stopped and his eyes lit up. "I have a splendid idea."

"You do?"

"Yes. You walk me back to my residence and she'll see us together and I'll tell her you are my new girlfriend."

"But that's a fib."

"Just a wee one."

"Still a fib."

"Please. Just this one time." He grinned again. "It would tickle me so to see her expression."

"That's kind of mean, don't you think? You'll hurt her feelings. I just can't imagine a gentleman so refined and as well-educated, as you seem to be would do such a thing."

"What makes you think I am educated?"

"The way you talk and carry yourself. You probably attended Oxford or something."

"You got me." He nodded. "Well alright, then, I guess I should be going. I'll just totter up this hill to my residence. Alone." He took a few steps and glanced back.

Janet made a face. "Oh, for heaven sakes, I'll walk with you but don't you go telling anyone I'm your girlfriend. We can pretend you are my – my grandfather."

"If you insist."

"I do." She smiled. "So how much farther?"

"Just up to the next corner and to the right. We're almost there." He stopped. "Say, I have another idea."

"Another idea? Like the last one?"

"A much better one. You can join me for supper. We're allowed to have guests."

"Andrew, you are a very nice man and honestly, I am enjoying our conversation, but I really need to get home. Besides, I don't like being out alone after dark."

"Of course. Of course. I am so sorry. I have been very selfish. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive."

He shuffled along until they reached the corner. "Well, here we are. This is where I live." He gestured up at windows overlooking the intersection. "Thank you for keeping me company. I hope I haven't delayed your journey too much."

"It's been my pleasure, and no, you haven't delayed my journey at all. Merry Christmas, Andrew."

"Merry Christmas, my dear." He paused. "Oh. You didn't tell me _your_ name."

She smiled. "Janet. My name is Janet."

"Then Merry Christmas, Janet. May God's blessings be abundant in your life."

Janet was touched. "Thank you. That's probably the nicest Christmas gift anyone will give me this year." She watched him walk up to the door. A sign over it read, _Golden Gate Senior Apartments_. She waited to make sure he got safely inside just as an elderly woman stepped out, holding the door open for him.

"Robert. Where have you been? I've been so worried. Come inside and warm up.

"Yes, Clara."

Janet frowned as he glanced back at her and winked before he disappeared inside. "What an incorrigible gentleman," she said and giggled. Now she wondered if his name was really Robert instead of Andrew. "Funny old man," she said quietly then headed home.

Inside the senior residence, Andrew closed the door to his room on the third floor and made sure it was locked. He straightened up, propped the cane in a corner, peeled off his coat and gloves, toss the hat on his bed and walked to the single window in his room. He parted the drapes slightly but intentionally kept the lights off to watch the street below. In the growing darkness, people still bustled along, in spite of the overcast skies and drizzle. Most clutched packages and holiday shopping bags. A few others lingered in recessed doorways, perhaps to stay out of the dampness. He was especially interested in one fellow standing in a recessed doorway directly across from the senior apartment hotel. He first noticed him a couple of nights before, then the previous day, but around midday, and again just now.

A camera with a powerful lens mounted on a tripod stood just above the window sill and right at the drapery opening. He'd added a set of sheer curtains and kept them parted just enough to allow a clean shot. The loitering man was dressed in dark sweat pants and a hoodie, making it difficult to see his face. He snapped several photographs anyway hoping photo enhancing might reveal something about the man.

A measure of paranoia still plagued him, not knowing the current whereabouts of Ray Martindale. His previous assignment in London provided him ample time to work on a British persona to add to his collection of identities. He hoped that if his disguise fooled Janet, it would also fool any of Martindale's people.

He continued his surveillance of the man below, but he was now concerned about being seen with Janet. Their 'accidental' meeting had been carefully planned and his ruse had been successful, at least with her – but what about that man below, if in fact, he was someone to be concerned about. He was no panhandler that much was certain. He just stood in that recessed doorway, but why?

The man looked away briefly. Craig watched, keeping the camera in place and snapped more photos as a car pulled up. He took rapid-fire shots hoping to catch images of the driver and vehicle license plate as the suspicious man got in the back seat and the car pulled away.

He dialed a number. "Where are you?" he asked when someone answered. He listened. "Good. I'm sending photos." He hung up. Pulling the memory card from the camera, he replaced it with another then closed his drapes and sat down at his laptop computer. He copied the contents of the card onto the hard drive then quickly pulled up the images and selected the best ones. He then attached them to an encrypted email and sent it.

He noticed a similarly encrypted message from Charlie and opened it. With a sigh, he stared at the message. With a heavier sigh, he got up and went back to his window. Through slightly parted drapes, he noticed the few lights still on in upper offices in the building across the street. And no one was loitering in the street-level recessed doorways at the moment.

"Time to move again," he said quietly.

His mobile phone chimed softly. He noted the caller ID and answered. "Yes?" he asked. "Yes, I saw the message. I'll be there. He hung up and checked his watch. Dinner would be served in about thirty minutes.

He quickly gathered up items he had in the room – some clothing, his camera and tripod, computer, the sheer curtains he had put up at the window, and some personal items – even his trash. Everything fit into two unassuming bags which he lined up out of sight but near the door. Satisfied the room was in order, he assumed his persona, and with the cane in hand, hunched over and walked out into the hallway, careful to lock the door. He headed for the elevator. A door immediately opened across from it and another hotel resident stepped out of her room and greeted him.

"Robert," she said happily. "I was hoping to run into you. You were out all afternoon."

"Good evening Martha. Yes, I was out enjoying the Christmas decorations."

"You should have asked me to join you," she said.

"I suppose I should have," he replied.

"Well, then, as a consequence I insist you join me for dinner tonight."

"Well, my dear, you may have to toss a coin with Clara," he said in his accented old man's voice. "However, I would be most honored to escort you to the dining room." He offered his arm and they entered the elevator together. "You look lovely this evening," he said.

"You flatter me," she said and giggled. "Keep it up and I just might have to ask you to marry me."

"Now what would you do with a wrinkled up old man like me?" he asked and winked at her. He was amused by the fact he'd now attracted the attention of two of the women residents with his disguise.

Martha giggled. "Oh, Robert, you are such a tease. I do enjoy you so much," she said as the elevator doors closed.

# CHAPTER 36

Light rain and wind ushered in the Eve of Christmas. Even so, it had not deterred the most determined and adventurous of souls from spending the day looking for last-minute Christmas gifts, before heading off to meet with friends and family to celebrate the season.

At the precinct, Detective Carson stared out his office window at the gray and dismal weather. He'd spent the better part of the day preparing to turn his investigation over to the Feds. All other incidental information was packed in one of their precinct case file boxes and sent to the archives. In some ways, he was relieved to be done with the Global investigation, given all the roadblocks and frustration he'd faced. He had other matters to attend to in his beloved City.

Detective Talmont tapped on his open door.

Carson waved him in.

"Getting ready to take off?"

"I am. My wife wants me to get home on time tonight. She's planned a nice dinner for our family. Besides, the kids are driving her crazy. Excited for Christmas morning, you know." He grinned. "I think I enjoy it more as a parent than I did as a kid. It's fun watching the kids open their gifts."

Talmont nodded. "I may not have any kids, but I do get to enjoy a couple of nieces and three nephews." He looked at the two boxes sitting on a side table. "Got it all ready?"

"Yeah. Someone's coming to pick them up in about an hour." Carson let out a sigh. "I hope they can make heads or tails of it. As for me, I'm glad to get rid of it all. I'm ready to get back to a more manageable routine if that's even possible."

Both men chuckled knowing full well that life as a cop in San Francisco was anything but routine.

"I'd better get going," Talmont said.

"Yeah. Oh, hey. Officer Perez's funeral is next week. You gonna be there?"

"Absolutely. She was a good cop. Just got caught off guard getting involved with the wrong people."

"Yeah," Carson said, "and Officer Wheaton. Same thing. Unfortunately, her career as a police officer is over."

"Where'd they send her again?" Talmont asked.

CIW. California Institution for Women. Southern California. What a waste, huh?"

"Yeah. And all for money." Talmont looked around and nodded then glanced at his watch. "Well, like I said, I'd better get going. You have a good Christmas, Brian."

"You too, Steve," Carson said.

Talmont left just as a desk sergeant walked into Carson's office with a bakery-style box.

"Brought you something for Christmas," Sergeant Miller said. "It's just cookies. My wife and the kids made them. They're not too bad." He grinned.

Carson accepted the package and smiled. "I love homemade Christmas cookies and so will my family. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Oh, and we got a call. The Federal Agents you're expecting are on their way. Should be here in about twenty minutes."

Carson checked his watch again. "Good. I'm ready to get outta here."

The Sergeant left. Carson opened the box and selected a Christmas tree cutout smeared with green frosting and loaded with colorful sprinkled things on top. He often wondered what those sprinkled things were made of. Didn't matter. He took a bite and smiled in satisfaction. "Pretty good."

Right on time, two Federal Agents arrived. They showed their ID badges and signed a receipt before Carson handed over the sealed boxes.

He followed them to the outer office. "Sorry you fellas had to come here on Christmas Eve," he said.

"That's okay," one of them replied. "It's part of the job and apparently there are some folks at our office here in the City eager to take a look at all of this."

"Yeah, well, I wish them luck. Hey, you fellas want a cookie?" Carson held open the box lid.

They each accepted one and headed outside. Carson locked his office door, picked up his briefcase, and offered cookies to a handful of staff and officers who'd be manning the desk and phones over the holidays. Outside, the rain had turned to a drizzle. He pulled up his coat collar and headed for his car. He set the box with the remaining cookies on the passenger seat and stuck his briefcase on the floor. For the first time in weeks, he felt a sense of relief as he dropped into the driver's seat and let out a tired sigh. Moments later was headed home.

Across town, Janet hummed Christmas carols as she happily spent the evening getting ready for Christmas Day. Her mood had picked up and there were a few things she planned to prepare ahead of time for her uniquely special and very private Christmas Dinner. With a sense of contentment, she prepared favorite family recipes and set her table with Christmas-themed décor, candles, and a single place setting.

"Very nice," she said aloud. "When I wake up in the morning everything will be ready, just the way mom used to do." She had to pause a moment to collect her emotions then hurried back to the kitchen to finish preparing her Christmas Eve meal.

It was nearly five o'clock when someone knocked at her door. She wasn't expecting anyone and cautiously approached. A peek through the peephole showed a bearded man in a dark overcoat standing there alone. "Who is it?" she asked.

"A friend," the man said in reply. "A good friend."

She peeked again then tentatively opened the door but kept the safety chain in place.

The man smiled. "Surprise," he said through the door.

Janet blinked then released the safety chain and flung open the door. "Andrew? How on earth did you –"

"Shh," he said and put a finger to his lips but smiled. "I hope you don't mind me barging in like this," he said.

"Not at all. Come in."

He stepped in and breathed in deeply as Janet closed and locked her door.

"How did you know where I live?" she asked.

He chuckled and straightened up. He removed his gloves and coat and tucked the cane against the wall next to the door. "Something smells good," he said, but without the English accent.

Janet's eyes widened. "Craig?"

He grinned and gave her a hug.

She responded in kind and didn't want to let go.

He managed to pull back and kept smiling. "You look wonderful."

"And you look – so different." She reached for his face. "You have a beard – and a mustache."

He stroked the beard. "What do you think?"

"Very tasteful, but –" she eyed him curiously. "This is such an unexpected surprise." She giggled. "A wonderful surprise. Can you stay? How long can you stay? And how did you know where to find me?"

"You know me. I know people."

She let out a laugh. "Well, of course, you do. What was I thinking? Doesn't matter. I'm just so glad to see you and that you are alive and well," she said still examining him from head to toe. "I've been so worried. I didn't know what happened to you or where you were. There was nothing mentioned on the news or anything. None of the guys have contacted me either. I haven't heard from anyone. I feel like – well, it doesn't matter, I guess." She fought back a tear.

He smiled and gave her a tight hug. "I know," he whispered in her ear. "I needed a little time to recuperate, just as you did."

She pushed back. "So, you _were_ hurt, weren't you?"

"A little."

"How did you get off Ray's boat?"

"You mean after I tossed you overboard?" He glanced at the floor. "I fell overboard, I'm embarrassed to say. Speaking of which, I am sorry I threw you into the water, but I just couldn't let them take you. I fully expected to jump in right after you but –"

"It's okay. I know you were trying to save me, and I'm very aware of what they planned to do with me. So, thank you for saving my life – again."

He grinned with a nod. "You're welcome, but it was that fisherman who actually saved you. Not me."

She cast him a quizzical look.

"I watched the news. That's how I knew."

She hesitated. "Can you stay for a while? Do you want to sit?"

He nodded then looked toward the kitchen. "What's for dinner?"

"Oh," she began then stopped. "Wait. C-Can you stay? Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"I'd love to."

"Really? Good! I'm excited. So excited to see you and excited you can stay, a-and I thought I'd never get to see you again. I thought you were dead because, like I said, there was nothing on the news. Not really. Except for all the reports about Global closing and everyone getting reassigned, but there was nothing specific about you." She paused for a moment. "Come to think of it, I don't think my name was mentioned either, not really. But my mother saw a report and was pretty sure the very quick image of 'the woman' being loaded into an ambulance was me. She was terrified, of course. But I'm okay. And here we are! She shook her head. "I was worried Ray and his men killed you and dumped you overboard – out in the ocean."

He nodded. "Well, it's a good thing nothing was said about me in the news. The truth is – well, the truth is I was shot and fell off the boat."

Her expression changed. "Shot!"

"Yes, but I'm fine. Healing and doing well. I just hope Ray and his men think I did die. Less likely anyone will be looking for me."

She nodded. "Right." She nodded again. "I understand. I guess. So, what are you going to do now?"

He grinned. "It's –"

She held up one hand and made a face. "I know. It's confidential." Then she smiled. "Well, I'm very glad you didn't die! And even happier that you're here!"

"And hungry."

"And hungry," she said and laughed. "Good. Have a seat on the sofa while I set another place and finish getting everything ready."

He sat down, got comfortable and smiled, running his hands across the fabric of the sofa. He looked around the room. Almost everything was as he ordered. And he could already see her hand in some of the decorating. He was pleased.

Janet was back with a tray of snack items. "This should tide you over until I get everything else set up."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." She stood watching as he took a bite of a cracker covered with a cheese spread. "I know it's not super elegant, but then I wasn't expecting anyone for dinner. But it's almost ready. It's a pasta dish. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. I'm just happy to be here with you." He finished his cracker and stood up. "I'd like to wash up before we eat if you don't mind." He looked around.

"Not at all, but the bathroom is in my bedroom, I'm afraid. Small place, you know."

"It's a nice place."

"Oh, don't think I don't appreciate it. Someone very generously arranged for this. And, yes, it is nice and cozy. I really do like it." She eyed him. "So, thank you."

"For what?" His expression changed.

She smiled again and shrugged. "Just because. That's all," she said. "Okay, you wash up and I'll put everything out so we can eat."

Craig disappeared into her bedroom while Janet watched for a brief moment feeling tremendously joyful.

Soon he wandered back and withdrew his hand from a pants pocket. "Your table looks lovely. Very festive," he called out to her from her living room.

"Thanks," she replied. "It's the best I could do, given the few things I have," she said as she returned with hot food.

"It's perfect."

Craig held Janet's chair until she got seated then sat across from her. They filled their plates and quietly ate until he finally spoke. "This is a wonderful home-cooked meal. Your mother taught you well."

"Home-cooked." She let out a soft laugh. "When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal?"

"I don't know. It's been a while."

"Do you cook?"

"Do frozen dinners count?"

"No."

"Then, no. I don't cook. But I do like to eat."

They ate quietly for a few minutes, with only the sound of utensils clinking on their plates.

Janet looked up at him. "You should have found yourself a good woman and settled down by now – and had a family," she said.

He watched her for a moment before responding. "I had a good woman many years ago. Two actually. Both very good cooks and both were very good to me."

Janet noticed a pained look but hazarded a question. "What happened?"

"Uh, well my second love and I were married for just a year when – she died."

"I am so sorry."

He nodded.

"But obviously you loved her."

"Very much. It was a difficult time for me."

Janet didn't know what else to say and decided for once in her life it was best not to ask any more questions, so they continued to eat quietly.

Craig broke the silence again and addressed her unspoken question. "She was murdered; my wife. I was tied up and forced to watch it all." He put his fork down and stared at his plate. "Would you excuse me for a minute?" He got up and disappeared into her bedroom.

Janet sat quietly and waited, wishing she hadn't asked him about his marriages. She realized he was still deeply hurt by the tragedy.

A few minutes later, he returned and sat down again. "My apologies."

"No need. It's me who should apologize. I'm truly sorry. I should never have asked –"

He managed a slight grin and looked at her. "It's okay. You remind me of her a little. She had spunk, as John would say, just like you. And you also remind me of my first true love. Your eyes. Your hair. She was a gentlewoman. Very beautiful." He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Janet detected more sorrow. "I am so sorry you lost them both. It's too bad you can't connect with the first one again." She caught herself. "I mean, I'm sorry again. I shouldn't pry – oh, I don't mean to be so nosy."

He reached for her hand. "You're not. She is alive, but I'm sure she's forgotten about me by now. Probably married another lucky soul and has a bunch of kids. Besides, right now, I have you. And this wonderful dinner. This is sufficient."

He held onto her hand and they locked eyes. It was a tender moment.

Janet gently pulled her hand away and poked at her food. She struggled with deep feelings that were welling up and avoided his gaze for a time while they finished their meal. Once done, Craig helped clean up before they returned to the living room.

Janet stood awkwardly biting her lip. "So, do you have to leave right away?"

"No. Why?"

She smiled. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to watch a movie with me before you go."

"Sure. What did you have in mind? _It's a Wonderful Life_?"

"Actually, no. I know this is going to sound crazy but I'm probably the only person in the whole wide world who feels this way."

"What way?"

"That movie is a little too depressing to me for some reason. So, what I'd rather do is watch –" she hesitated and giggled, feeling somewhat embarrassed. _The Muppet Christmas Carol?_ " She waited. "If that's okay."

He laughed. "I'll watch whatever you like. I'm just happy to be here with you tonight instead of alone at my hotel."

He reached for her hand again and absently rubbed the back of it with his thumb as he looked into her eyes.

She didn't resist. And her heart pounded.

They stood quietly for a few heartbeats then Janet gently pulled away once again and retrieved the movie, getting it set up. She motioned for Craig to sit and joined him before asking more questions.

"I realize you can't tell me where you're going or anything like that, but just in general, what _are_ your plans?" she asked. "Where will you live?"

"As always, you do have questions." He laughed. "And usually multiple ones." He laughed harder. "I'll be fine. I will have a new life and a new identity."

"A new life."

"Yes. A dead man can't do much, but an alive-and-well man can."

"So, what's your new identity?" She immediately shook her head. "Never mind. I know. You can't tell me."

He lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Is there anything you can tell me? Like, will I ever get to see you again?"

"I don't want you to worry about me. I will be fine. I'm not sure exactly where I'll be or what I'll be doing but I will figure out a way to stay in touch – somehow."

"We should come up with a secret code or something." Her eyes sparkled.

"Or something. Right now, I just want to enjoy being here with you." His eyes were tender. "So, let's watch that movie."

She stood up. "Okay. Alright." She paused. "I know this will seem silly but if you don't mind –"

"Whatever it is, I don't mind."

"Okay. I'll be right back." She hurried to her bedroom and came back with a couple of pillows and blankets. Arranging the pillows on her coffee table, she handed Craig a quilted throw and kept one for herself.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"Okay. It's part of a family tradition. My mom and sister and I would prop our feet up and snuggle under our blankets to watch a movie." She shrugged. "But you don't have to if you don't want to.

Grinning, he pulled off his shoes and arranged the quilt on his lap. "Sounds like a nice tradition to me."

They propped up their feet on the pillows then Janet used the remote to start the movie.

Craig rested his arm on the back of the sofa behind her and watched her as she pulled her blanket up and smiled at the opening scene and music. Quietly satisfied, he settled back, happy to be able to spend this time with her, knowing it might easily be the last.

Janet looked at him. "Are you sure this is okay – the movie, I mean? We could watch something else if you'd rather."

"No. This is fine. I like the Muppets."

She laughed. "It's funny, isn't it, the silly traditions we grow up with. My mom always wanted to watch " _A Charlie Brown Christmas._ "

"So did I," he said. " _And Frosty the Snowman_ , _Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer_ , and _Santa Claus is Coming to Town_."

Janet giggled. "I guess you and my mom must be about the same age." She let out a sigh. "She also liked _Miracle on 34_ th _Street,_ the original one with Natalie Wood and Maureen O'Hara, and _White Christmas._ "

"Yup. Me too."

She smiled. "Then this is just like old times."

"Yes. Just like old times." He looked at her tenderly. She responded in kind for a moment then quickly adjusted her blanket to focus on the movie to distract her from wandering thoughts.

Two and a half hours later, Craig put his shoes on and got ready to leave. "I've enjoyed the evening," he said. "It finally feels a little like Christmas."

Janet stood up as well, still wrapped in her blanket. "Oh! Wait. I have some sparkling cider chilling in the refrigerator. You want some before you go?"

"Let's save it for tomorrow. We'll toast Christmas morning."

She caught her breath. "You're coming back?" Her eyes lit up. Then you get to eat my traditional Christmas breakfast."

"It's a deal. I can hardly wait." He glanced around. "This is a very nice place. And you like it."

"Yes. And I like being in town. There's something kind of special about it, but –"

"But?"

"I have to give it up in a couple of weeks. I'm going to Colorado. To that treatment center, you talked about. Remember? I need to learn how to deal with my PTSD."

"And after that?"

"John, Hector, and even Charlie all said I should move out of the Bay Area and go back to southern California. They said they'll help me find a job somewhere and a place to live. My therapist kind of agrees. She said it might be a good idea to face my original trauma that started in Los Angeles."

"How do you feel about that?" he asked.

"I really don't know how that will help, but if it will, I think I'm good with it. As much as I've loved being in San Francisco when I think about the things I've had to face and deal with in the past few weeks – well, I think being here has been even more traumatic than when I helped rescue my friend. I'm actually looking forward to going to Colorado and then the idea of moving back to the southern end of the state feels good too. I guess I really do need to face my demons, starting with the first one. I'm tired of the nightmares. I just want to move on. I want to get healthy mentally and emotionally."

"That's good. Okay." He reached for his coat then asked, "Do you mind if I give you a Christmas hug?"

"I would love another hug from you." She teared up. "Having you here with me tonight has helped cheer me up."

He wiped a tear from her face. "It's helped cheer me up too."

She stood awkwardly waiting as he put his arms around her giving her a gentle squeeze. Then she reciprocated in kind and held him tight.

"I've really enjoyed getting to know you, Janet," he whispered in her ear. "It's been such a pleasure." He released her and stepped back. "You take care of yourself."

She swallowed hard. "I will and you do the same," she said and wiped at her face.

"See you tomorrow morning," he said then put on his coat and left.

Janet watched until he was on the elevator. She closed her door and although feeling nearly giddy, she had to wipe at her cheeks again as she fastened the safety chain. "Get a grip!" She scolded herself. "He's much too old for you."

She folded the blankets and straightened up the living room before heading into the kitchen to put away the washed and dried dishes. Then she spent another couple of hours preparing her family tradition for breakfast the next day.

As far back as she could remember, she, her sister, and her mother would put together a pull-apart pastry and let it rise slowly in the refrigerator overnight. They'd put it in the oven first thing Christmas morning, along with a French Toast casserole, and enjoy the aroma of warm cinnamon and nutmeg as they opened gifts and listened to Christmas music.

Satisfied with her efforts, Janet finally turned off the lights and headed for bed. Snuggling down under the covers, her mind drifted from one thought to another and a smile creased her face. A gust of wind slapped some raindrops against her window. She quietly turned off her bedside lamp and soon fell asleep to the sound of gentle rain.

# CHAPTER 37

Christmas morning came quietly but Janet was up early. She showered and dressed then wandered out to the living room and stared at her small artificial Christmas tree. It looked dismal and lifeless so she turned on the colorful lights.

"Much better," she said and smiled as she turned on Christmas music as well. "Much, much better."

Looking forward to breakfast with Craig, she pulled her pastry and casserole from the refrigerator, placed them on a rack in the oven, set the temperature, and a timer. Next, she set the table, taking care to make it as festive as the night before. Satisfied with her efforts, she wandered to the living room window and opened the drapes to a surprisingly cheery morning. Bright sunlight burst between fluffy white clouds gently scooting along overhead. Remaining raindrops clung to nearly every surface and sparkled like thousands of diamonds. She smiled, feeling happy and excited as she looked forward to Craig's return.

Twenty minutes later he called. "Are you up?"

"Yes. Are you still coming over this morning?"

"I am," he replied. "I'll see you in about an hour.

Craig arrived on time as promised. He waited for Janet to close the door then gave her a hug. "Something smells wonderful," he said.

"Everything's ready. You can take your shoes off if you like, or not. I'm still in my slippers. I'll go get everything together."

He waited until she disappeared into the kitchen then pulled a small box from a jacket pocket and tucked it under her tree out of sight. He then pulled off his shoes before joining her in the kitchen to watch and visit for a few minutes.

Returning to the living room, he waited while Janet finished putting everything on the dining room table.

"So, what do you think?" she asked.

"It's lovely, just like last night." He helped her with her chair then sat across from her.

Janet waited for him to fill his plate and take a big bite.

"And?"

He held up one hand to signal he needed to swallow then answered. "I love it."

Janet beamed. "Thank you. Like I said last night, it's a family tradition. We would fix this every year for Christmas morning breakfast." She had a thoughtful moment, reminiscing then looked up. "Sorry. I was just thinking back. Mary and I really did have a pretty good childhood. Mom was wonderful, and all things considered, I think you'd like her."

"Well if she is anything like you, I know I would."

"Thanks, but I cheated this year and used frozen bread dough for the pull-apart."

He laughed, "I also like this. What did you call it? French toast something?" He tapped the plate with his fork.

"Casserole. French Toast casserole. I know we're having a lot of bread for breakfast, but money was always short. Mom baked a lot of bread, so –"

"Oh, I'm not complaining. It's all good." He took another bite. "Have you had a chance to talk to your mother this morning?"

"No. Not yet but I will later.

He smiled and nodded.

"I should have gotten you something for Christmas," she said.

"Why? This is a perfect Christmas gift." He took a swig of orange juice. "Fresh squeezed?"

"Carton. Sorry."

He grinned. "Don't be. "This really is one of the nicest Christmas mornings I've had in many years."

"Many years?" She gave him a quizzical look.

He drank more juice. "So, did your mom ever remarry?"

"No. She pretty much stayed to herself, although she did have a few dates with one man just before that experience I had with Sally. I remember she'd call and tell me about him. His name was Harold. He wanted to be called by his given name, Harold. He didn't like being called Harry. Anyway, it sounded like they were getting serious. But then after what happened to me and Sally, my mother and sister, Mary, came to California to stay with me for a short while so I wasn't alone. But as it turned out, mom's plan was to convince me to move back to Wisconsin."

"But you didn't."

"No. I really like California, even now, after everything that's happened. But it's not just the state, with all the stuff there is to do here and the climate, and everything, it's also the people. I've made some good friends over the past couple of years. Besides, crime is everywhere. There's no place I can live and be totally safe. Not anymore I don't think. No one can."

She took a bite of the casserole. "Besides, I really do prefer the milder climate." She let out a sigh. "To be honest, I don't think my mother ever really got over my dad, whoever he was. I guess he never knew she was pregnant with me, or so she seemed to suggest, so he doesn't even know I exist. He would know about my sister Mary, but she doesn't remember him at all." Janet teared up. "I often wonder what he was like, what he looked like and if I look anything like him, because I don't see much of a resemblance to my mother or sister."

She laughed. "I sometimes wonder what he enjoys doing and if he has a dog." She chuckled. "I always wanted a dog." She played with her food. "Mostly, I just wonder where he went or if he's dead, or something."

Craig put his fork down. "Do you have any pictures of him?"

"No. Like I said, everything was lost in some mysterious fire. Even my grandmother didn't have any. She lived with us so there was always an adult around to help take care of me and my sister, especially when my mom was at work during the day, but that's about all."

"What about his parents? Your father's parents?"

She shook her head. "We didn't know anything about them. I think they both died before she married my dad." She frowned. "I remember asking her once about them and she said she never met them and that my dad never talked about his family to her. So, nope. No pictures. Nothing. It's like there's this huge void in my life." She let out a sigh. "Who am I? Really?"

She stared at her plate, then continued. "I used to imagine that my dad and his family were from some faraway place and that they were all spies!" She leaned back and laughed. "Silly, huh? Making up exotic things like that just to make them seem real and somehow explain all the unknowns about them at the same time." She grew silent.

Craig quietly ate but watched her.

She continued. "After a while, and especially when I was a teenager, I would tell people my dad died before I was born, in some war, just to avoid having to answer questions about him. But over the years, I finally decided that more than likely he probably found someone else to love and has a whole new family somewhere. That would explain why my mother never talked about him. It was too painful."

Craig put his fork down. "Did your mother ever say that your dad left her? For another woman?"

"No. No. That's what _I_ think might have happened. Honestly, she just never talked about him. I remember this one particular day I was really struggling about all of it and my grandmother simply told me my dad was a good man and that I needed to stop fussing about him. And then she added, he died, and then she walked into the kitchen and that was it. She never said another word about him and neither did my mother. So, I stopped asking questions – believe it or not." She grinned at Craig. "But I didn't stop _having_ questions. How could anyone not want to know who their parents are? Both parents. They had to have known something about him."

Craig nodded and managed a smile. "Tell me more about your grandmother."

"My grandmother. Well, there's not much to tell. She had an accent. It sounded German to me because we had some neighbors who were German. I asked her about that, but she would only shrug and say she didn't want to talk about the past. I remember coming home from school one afternoon. I was so excited because we were studying about World War II and especially the European theater. I remember this moment in class. It was profound. I was suddenly struck with the idea that perhaps my grandmother was a concentration camp survivor." She looked at Craig.

"Did you ask her?"

Janet nodded and sobered. "Yes. I took a chance thinking she might open up a little, but she just got angry. I apologized but she walked out of the room without another word. I never brought that up again."

Craig nodded. "I have a feeling that someday your questions will get answered, Janet. Just be patient. In the meantime, enjoy today. Enjoy who you are and what you have right now."

"But who do I have? What do I have?" Janet asked. "I'm alone. Well maybe not entirely alone, and okay, I have you and Alex, or I did. I miss him. He's dead, isn't he? They killed him. I'm sure of it. They caught him sneaking out of that warehouse and killed him. So, maybe I do have you for now, but other than that, who else?"

He took her hand and squeezed it. "And you will always have us and the team."

"Seriously?" She looked away. "You are getting a new assignment very soon and will move far away. I will probably never see you again. And as for the other guys, maybe they'll still hang out with me a little if they're not busy chasing down bad guys. Then what?"

"How about you go to Colorado. Get the treatment and skills-learning that you need and after that, get resettled in southern California with the help of the guys."

"Sure. I can do that. I guess." She eyed him. Her eyes pooled again and she wiped her face. "I'm sorry. So much for a Merry Christmas." She noticed his empty plate and tried to compose herself. "Are you still hungry? Do you want some more?"

"No. I'm full, but it was wonderful, and thank you." He looked away and let out a sigh.

She noticed the look on his face. "What? What is it?"

He returned his gaze to her then reached across the table and took hold of both of her hands this time. "I have something I need to tell you."

She jerked her hands away. "You're leaving, aren't you? Right now."

"Janet."

"No. You can't." Tears came. "I need you. I need you here. You just said I would always have you around. You lied to me." Her breathing became choppy.

He quietly shook his head. "I didn't lie. You will always have me in your life."

She stood up and turned away unable to look at him as tears fell uncontrollably.

Craig stood up as well and went to her. He pulled her in close and held her tightly.

"How soon?" she managed to ask. "I mean, we have the rest of the day to be together, right? It's Christmas."

He tilted her head up and looked into her eyes.

"Right?" She watched his face.

He finally shook his head. "I can't stay," he said. "I have to leave town. I'm sorry."

"Leave town? You mean they found you? Someone found you? Are you in trouble? Are you running away from something, someone?" She stepped back. "From me? Tell me."

"I am not running away from you but I do have to leave. It's my job. All I can tell you is I'll be gone for some time."

She sniffed and pushed him away. "Then you did lie!" She sniffed again and wiped at her face. "I'm never going to see you again."

"Yes, you will. And I mean that. I promise."

She shook her head. "Please do not make promises you cannot keep. So where are you going? How will I be able to reach you?"

He pulled her close again and held her tight, resting his head on hers. "I'll stay in touch. Somehow. But right now, I have to go. I can't stay here any longer." He pulled back enough to gaze into her eyes. "More than anything I'd love to stay a few more hours. Really, I would. The whole day, in fact."

Janet lost her emotional battle. "Why is this so difficult for me?" She exhaled hard trying to control the tears. "Why are you so important to me? I know you're supposed to be dead, but you're not. You're right here with me, and it's Christmas." Her chin trembled. "And I care about you."

He continued to hold her. "I know it's difficult. I care about you too. Keep good memories, Janet. Keep good memories. We're both heading off on new journeys taking us in different directions – for now. But that doesn't mean we can't still care for each other. I promise we'll stay in touch somehow. I promise."

"But will I ever _see_ you again?"

"I sure hope so."

She continued to struggle.

He held her tighter. "Janet. If – If I were your father, I'd tell you to be brave; to stay focused on your future. You have the courage and inner strength that has pulled you through some very difficult experiences. You will be fine. You are going to get the help you need and I know that Charlie and the guys are working hard to find you a good job in southern California and a safe place to live. I'm sure whatever it is will be exciting and you'll be able to meet a lot of new people and make new friends. Plus, you _will_ have the team around. _They_ will be your family. You'll be able to count on them."

She managed to nod, her eyes red and swollen. "I almost wish you _were_ my father." She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "At least I know what you look like." She let out a tearful laugh.

Craig grinned. "Then keep that in your mind and in your heart."

She nodded and let out a heavy sigh. "I just wish I knew where you were going so I'd have something to visualize."

He held her again. "I'll be in Europe," he whispered. "But that's all I can say."

"Europe?" She stepped back. "That's so far away." She could barely breathe.

"If I could change things, I would. Just know that you will always have a place in my heart, and I hope you will always have a place in your heart for me."

Janet looked at him. "Then take me with you! Just take me with you! I can still help you. I'll-I'll be your Girl Friday. You know?"

He shook his head. "I can't take you. It would be too dangerous."

"Dangerous? More dangerous than what we all just went through? Or worse than what I had to deal with over two years ago?"

"Possibly."

She pulled back. "Will you be safe? Promise me you'll be safe."

"I promise to do my best to be safe." He stroked her cheek.

Tears continued to cascade. "Please don't leave me. Please." Her eyes were fixed on him.

Craig wiped her face and pulled her close again. "You will be fine. You are stronger and smarter than you realize. You have a quick mind and sharp wit. You've kept me on my toes and one way or another and we will see each other again. I promise."

Janet held him tightly. "You absolutely have to promise or I won't let you go."

"I absolutely promise." He kissed her forehead and wiped away more tears then kissed her on the cheek. "Everything's going to be okay." He released her and pulled his coat from the back of the chair but hesitated at the door, taking one last look.

Janet took a step toward him. "Wait!" she said then sniffed and wiped her face. "I love you," she said suddenly.

His eyes softened as he paused a moment longer then stepped out into the hallway, closing the door quietly. "I love you too."

Downstairs, Charlie was standing next to a mid-sized gray rental car parked at the curb. Traffic jostled and jockeyed in both directions, weaving in and out, dodging late morning pedestrians. The combination of busses, taxis, and cable cars contributed to the symphony of familiar sounds the City of San Francisco was so famous for.

"Ready?" Charlie asked as Craig approached.

From their vantage point atop one of the many hills in the City, Craig gazed down the busy street at the Bay a number of blocks away. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I'm ready."

"How's she doing?" Charlie asked.

Craig broke his gaze. "She'll be fine. She's strong. Stronger than even she realizes."

"She has the locket?"

"I left it under her tree. She'll find it."

_"You_ gonna be okay?" Charlie asked.

Craig hesitated then nodded. "She looks so much like her mother." He gazed up toward Janet's apartment.

"You ever gonna tell her the truth about her mother?" Charlie asked.

"Someday," Craig said.

A man climbed out of front passenger seat of the car, holding a wrapped gift. He had dark brown hair long enough to pull back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and a short-cropped beard and nicely trimmed mustache He smiled at Craig.

"Alex," Craig said and returned the smile. "Thanks for coming." He glanced up at the building again. "She really needs you right now. It's going to be a shock to her when she sees you – she's convinced you're dead."

"It will be my pleasure to see her again. You know I care about her, too and I need to let her know what happened."

Craig nodded. "Yes. Okay, then, I need to get going." He shook hands with Alex and climbed into the back seat. "Be sure you let me how she's doing. Stay in touch with her. Do that for me? I promised she wouldn't be alone. All of you need to take care of her. Be there for her. Be her family. She going to need that, especially when she returns from Colorado."

"I will," Alex said and stepped back. "We all will."

Charlie nodded in agreement while he closed Craig's door then climbed in behind the wheel. "You say anything else to her?" he asked.

"Only that I'm headed for Europe."

"And?"

Craig stared out his side window. "We'd better get going," he said. "The plane's waiting."

"Sure you don't wanna ride up front?" Charlie asked.

"I'm sure. Back here is fine."

Charlie pulled the vehicle into the bustle of Christmas morning traffic. Alex watched them leave then entered Janet's apartment building holding his wrapped Christmas gift.

Overhead, rain clouds continued to dissipate and the morning sun sparkled on the City. It was a day ready to embrace gift-giving and celebration. A few gulls glided on the chilly morning breeze and a cable car bell clanged nearby.

Upstairs, Janet stood gazing out her window at the City and its glittering bay in the distance. She wiped her face and stepped back then noticed a small box wrapped in shiny green paper and tied with a red ribbon under her tree. She gasped as she picked it up remembering that day in town.

"Andrew," she said softly realizing it was the same small box he was holding then. "It was _you_." She hurried to the door. " _You!_ You were Andrew!" She flung the door open, but the hallway was empty. Cradling the box in her hand she closed and locked her door then sat down on the sofa and carefully removed the ribbon and paper. She lifted the box lid and inside found a folded note. Beneath it lay a beautiful heart-shaped locket tastefully decorated in silver filigree. It looked old and valuable – like an heirloom.

She caught her breath as she read the message. _"Merry Christmas my darling Janet from someone who deeply cares about you and always will. Wear the locket, close to your heart, and know I will always be with you and thinking of you no matter where I am."_

With trembling hands, she opened the locket and stared at the two tiny photos tucked inside, one of her on the left and the other of Craig on the right. Clutching it to her chest, tears uncontrollably streamed down her cheeks once again. She stared at her window and the glistening sunlight streaming in and attempted to get control of her emotions and put everything into some sort of perspective.

A sudden knock at the door startled her. She was at the door in a heartbeat, hoping Craig had changed his mind and come back. Without checking first, she flung it open then stared at a man she did not recognize and gasped, ready to slam the door shut.

He caught it. "Janet," he said. "It's me. Alex."

Her eyes widened.

He smiled.

She caught her breath. "Alex?"

He nodded.

She rushed into his arms and clutched him tightly tears cascading.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered, somewhat surprised but pleased at her reaction. He stroked her hair and held her tight.

Janet held him tighter, the locket dangling from her clenched hand. She could barely breathe but managed to whisper in return, "Merry Christmas."

# # #

# BOOKS IN THE DUPLICITY SERIES

Book 1 – a Desperate Rescue

Book 2 – a Relentless Pursuit

Book 3 – a Calculated Risk

Book 4 – a Conditional Trust

Book 5 – an Unwitting Alliance

Book 6 – a Cunning Deception

Book 7 – a Justified Betrayal

Book 8 – an Uncertain Future

