Sabotage: A Reece Culver Thriller - Book 2 Read online

  “Can I shut your door?”

  “Sure, come in and have a seat. My admin is in. Would you like some coffee? She’s not the brightest post in the fence, but that girl sure knows how to make a good cup of coffee.”

  “No, I don’t have time for that. I was wondering if you’d done any more looking into the embezzlement up on seven?”

  “Oh, I did,” Bernadette said, suddenly looking around, “but I can’t tell you here.”

  “Okay, then where?”

  “Let’s go to the ladies’. I’ll tell you on the way,” Bernadette said.

  Margaret thought it was odd that her friend didn’t want to talk about her suspicions in her office, but she followed her friend through the maze of cubicles, and out to the hallway by the lift.

  Bernadette stepped into the ladies’ restroom. Margaret followed, feeling like a spy.

  “Okay, first of all when security comes to escort him out, I need to have your promise that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t come back to me, or my department,” Bernadette said.

  “Him. So it’s one of the male executives on my floor?” Margaret said.

  “Do I have your promise?”

  “Yes, who is it?”

  “Well, it wasn’t easy, but I was able to track down the movement of funds, and using the accounting database I located the timestamp for the dates that the entries posted to the general ledger.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now, who is it? Seven is my floor. If someone is harming the company, I need to know,” Margaret said, raising her voice.

  “The timestamps came from the office of Ian Drae,” Bernadette said.

  Margaret was shocked. “Mr. Drae is embezzling?”

  “Either he is, or someone with access to his office is.”

  Mr. Drae? That couldn’t be. “Oh, this is not good… I—” Margaret said.

  “What?”

  “I better go now. I’ve got work to do at home,” Margaret said. Oh, that was close. I almost said that out loud.

  “What was it you were going to say?” Bernadette said.

  “I forgot,” Margaret said, though she realized how silly that sounded. “I can’t believe Ian would do something to hurt Draecon. Have you told anyone else about this?”

  “No, not yet. I haven’t had time to. I need to get through the forecast first. It’s not like he’s going anywhere,” Bernadette said.

  “No, that’s true. I still can’t believe he’s connected.”

  Margaret thanked her friend and stepped onto the lift. She had something to do. She pressed the button for the first floor, not wanting to take the chance that Bernadette would see the green up arrow that would illuminate if she’d pushed the button for seven. As she rode downward, she considered what she’d just heard. If Ian had done what this woman just suggested, there’d be evidence somewhere in the CEO’s office.

  She stepped off the elevator and walked down the hallway to the stairwell before starting on her way up to the executive suite. Margaret felt a pain in her side as she completed the first flight of steps. If the embezzling was coming from Ian’s office, she could be implicated. Bernadette said that it could have been Mr. Drae or someone with access to his office.

  She ran hard, taking two steps at a time. At the third floor she was breathing hard, but she continued upward. She saw the black stenciled number 6 on the wall and breathed a sigh of relief in between huffs and puffs of air. Up one more flight she stopped just shy of opening the door and waited. If security was around, they’d wonder why she was so out of breath. After a few minutes she pulled open the door and stepped out onto her floor. Every other overhead light was lit, but the floor was silent. She walked down to her office, gaining her nerve, and then headed directly toward the office of her boss, Ian Drae.

  Once inside, Margaret went to his desk. It was covered with three small stacks of papers. She had no idea what she was looking for. Yet this might be her only chance to find it. She spotted the oxygen tank next to the filing cabinet that only she knew about. That didn’t hold the secrets of money transfers, however. After pulling out the large leather desk chair Margaret sat down and thought about all the years they’d worked together. She envisioned his face and his wispy white hair.

  The safe. I have to open the safe.

  Chapter 9

  Reece and Haisley found the house south of town. On the drive up a steep road they got a good view of the mansion, perched on a hill overlooking West Loch and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. The former police detective was grumbling about making this visit. They should be heading out to the fishing camp, he argued, not meddling in some local murder.

  Reece was curious, though. “We’re just going to see what she has to say. We have all afternoon to go fishing. Don’t worry, partner, I’m as eager to cast as you are.”

  Reece slowed the truck after spotting the two black posts topped with gold colored balls that looked like markers for the end of the driveway. He pulled right on the steering wheel and drove down the driveway. The headlights of the truck lit up a dense wall of well-manicured plants that bordered each side.

  “Are you sure you’ve got the right place?” Haisley said, emerging from his silence.

  “345, that was the address on the tree back there,” Reece said as he followed the narrow blacktop and drove around the circular drive to park just past a green lacquered front door. The large red-brick home was approached by a cobblestone walkway. It reminded Reece of an inn he’d stayed at once before back in London during his days in the Air Force.

  When the door opened, the smell first caught his attention— a mixture of rich wood and bread baking in an oven. That quickly changed as he took in the beauty of the woman who answered the door. She was shorter than Reece’s six foot two, maybe five seven with striking green eyes, an athletic figure, and high cheekbones. Her shoulder-length brown hair framed her face, and from what he could tell she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

  “Could I get either of you coffee?” Marie said in a soft delicate French accent.

  “Oh, no thanks,” Reece said, following her to the right around an antique dresser into what looked like the den. He glanced around for any antlers on the walls, but saw only aged walnut paneling

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have a tray of croissants,” Marie said.

  Reece and Haisley both smiled before dropping into a group of leather chairs that faced a large stone fireplace. “Like Duke of Earl,” Haisley muttered, but Reece could tell he was impressed.

  Marie, dressed in a mid-thigh length tan dress with a small V cut out in back, reappeared with a large silver tea set. She set the tray down on the coffee table in front of Haisley. The tray smelled like steaming coffee—not tea, he thought—along with an assortment of croissants, butter, and jams.

  “Would you like some?” she said, and they both agreed, now that the coffee was waiting right in front of them. Reece plucked out a few sugar cubes while Haisley went almost café con leche with the cream.

  “So, why did you call me?” Reece said. “I was surprised you had my number.”

  “Oh, Inspector MacDonald is a friend,” she said lightly. “Cell phones are a marvelous improvement in these cases.”

  “I was standing next to MacDonald when he said your name,” Reece said. “What I was wondering was, did your house guest ever arrive?”

  “My house guest? Yes, it was a friend, not really a houseguest, a man named Thomas Billington. He writes for the Herald over in Glasgow. He was on his way here for some afternoon tea with my husband Karl and I,” she said.

  “Afternoon tea?” Haisley said, taking a cautious sip of the coffee.

  “Yes, he wanted to talk to Karl about his work at Draecon.”

  “Did he tell you what kind of article he was working on for the paper?” Reece said.

  “Yes, it was an investigative piece. My husband is the chief of strategy for the company,” she said.

  “And your call to the Inspector. What made you think Mr
. Billington had been the victim of an accident?” Reece said.

  “It’s a small town,” she said, “and news travels fast, especially when a person is shot in his car which then capsizes into the sea.”

  Reece kept glancing over at Haisley, seeing how the former detective was taking in this information. “Where is your husband now?” Haisley said.

  “He’s in London,” she said.

  “In London?” Reece said.

  “Yes, that’s where the headquarters of Draecon is located.”

  “So, he commutes from London to Tarbert for his work?” Reece said, knowing that would be impossible unless he was commuting in a corporate jet.

  “No, he has an apartment in London,” she said with distaste.

  “So he only spends his weekends here in Scotland.” Haisley said.

  “No, he lives in London now. We are in the process of getting divorced.”

  “But he was willing to come up here?” Reece asked. It struck him that he must have a compelling reason to meet with the reporter.

  “We have a daughter. I suffer his presence for her sake,” she said.

  “So he agreed to come up because he also had a chance to see your daughter,” Haisley clarified.

  “I can’t answer that,” Marie said flatly. “Karl is a sly one, gentlemen. I wouldn’t be surprised that this Thomas Billington found something incriminating about Draecon.” This came out in a burst of anger, and she visibly caught herself. “So, enough about me. What brings you two gentlemen to Scotland?”

  “We came for the trout fishing,” Haisley said.

  “You certainly came to the right place for that,” she said, brushing her bangs away. “Were you planning to go loch fishing or stick to the rivers?”

  “Both, but I came for those famous wild brown trout in Loch Awe,” Haisley said.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Rhodes,” Reece said. “I don’t mean to be harsh, but do you believe your husband would have ordered someone to shoot Thomas Billington in order to protect a company secret?”

  “That doesn’t seem in character, no. But I do know he was very interested in Karl.”

  Chapter 10

  Karl Rhodes leaned back in the reading chair in Candice Carlyle’s plush office at Draecon International. The door was closed like it always was when they were together.

  “What do you make about all of this talk of a breach?” Karl said.

  “I’m not sure what to think, but I hope no one leaks this outside of the company. I’d hate to see what this sort of thing would do to our stock,” Candice said.

  “I highly doubt that will happen. This is internal. Probably more posturing,” Karl said.

  “Posturing?” She said.

  “Yeah, more of an act than anything,” Karl said, getting up from his chair and walking over to the window. He peeled back the curtains and there on the ledge he spotted a framed postcard that he’d sent to her a few months earlier while visiting his father back in California. Outside the clouds hung low with the texture of dirty cotton candy.

  “Do you think they’re doing this to somehow discredit you?” She said.

  “Could be, but how would someone’s hacking into Draecon’s computer system make me look bad?”

  “Not directly, but maybe it’s a play to influence the board,” she said.

  “So, if that’s correct, who do you think is behind it?”

  “That’s hard to say. It could be anyone of them,” she said, coming toward him. “I mean it’s obvious that Ian is on his way out.”

  “Yeah, but he’s been having those coughing fits for more than a year, and he hasn’t hung up his coat yet,” Karl said.

  “True,” she said, looking discontented. “You know, we really need to get those documents. Have you done any searching for them?”

  Karl narrowed his eyes at her. “I’ve got Margaret on that. They’ve got to be somewhere in our files.” Karl said.

  “What do you suppose this next meeting will be about,” Candice who was now sitting back at her desk said.

  “I haven’t the faintest,” Karl said. “I hope it’s not another of his long-winded deluges about affordability initiatives.”

  “Oh, God. Let’s hope you’re right about that,” she said, pivoting toward him. “Remember that time Alex tried to bawl us out for spending too much on our business travel. That little twit is nothing without Uncle Drae.”

  “You better watch it. That chap thinks he’s a shoo-in to replace his uncle as CEO,” Karl said.

  Candice set her arms down on the sides of the chair and made eye contact with Karl. He focused on her long shoulder length dishwater blond hair. While he’d been on the phone, Candice had been putting on lipstick. It was a flashy red hue. He liked it. She looked at him and then dropped her eyes. Karl looked back down as Candice slowly parted her thighs and at the same time with her palms flat against her hips pulled the fabric of her dress back, exposing her creamy white flesh.

  This woman is amazing. I never know what she’ll do.

  The tip of Candice’s tongue came sliding out of her mouth and slowly ran across her top lip from left to right. Karl squirmed in his chair with excitement.

  “What’ll you say we go to your apartment after the meeting for…” she said, breaking into a huge smile.

  “For what?” he said, playing along.

  “It’ll give me a chance to take care of whatever you’re craving, Mr. Rhodes.”

  *

  Margaret hung up the phone only to hear the buzz of her cell phone rumbling inside the center drawer of her desk. I wonder who that could be? I hope it’s not Bernadette wanting to move forward with her accusation against Ian. She reached in and brought the phone to her ear. “Hello.”

  “Margaret, it’s Nigel, is everything all right? You sound upset.”

  Only a friend would realize that in a single word. “Oh, hi Nigel, it’s good to hear your voice. Yes, everything is fine. It’s just a really busy day. I was planning on meeting you, but Mr. Drae has called a meeting and I have to attend.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. How about later? I wanted to continue our chat about that tennis club I told you about,” he said.

  “That sounds splendid. I’ll call you when we’re done.”

  Clicking off, Margaret hurried to the executive boardroom.. It wasn’t like Ian Drae to call impromptu meetings with the executive staff. Drae was all about process. He always followed the same pattern when calling a meeting. He’d set up the agenda, informed Margaret about the upcoming meeting, and then have her check everyone’s availability. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d called a meeting with such short notice. I hope he’s not going to announce his resignation. Oh god, what if he was in his safe this morning looking for the flash drive. Is that what this meeting is about? The flash drive that was stolen?

  She opened the door to the room and felt all eyes upon her as she walked to the only vacant seat. Margaret tried her best to smile, but knew it probably came across as fake. Even Nigel could tell I was upset when he called.

  Ian Drae wasn’t at the head of the table. “Okay, let’s get started. Margaret, can you get the door?”

  Margaret abruptly reversed course and shut the door. She noticed that the overhead projector was on, so she stood next to the light switch waiting for her boss’s cue. That was when she noticed that Ian and Alex James had switched seats. It wasn’t like Ian to let his nephew take his seat. Oh God, don’t tell me he’s been found out, and that twit Alex James is going to replace him? What have I done?

  Drae gave her a nod. Margaret hit the first light switch and hurried back to her seat. On one side Karl Rhodes sat next to several of the junior executives, and on the opposite Ian Drae was next to Candice Carlyle, dressed to the nines, as always.

  Someone bumped her right elbow and Margaret did her best not to shriek. She expected to see members of Draecon International’s security force coming in to escort both she and Ian out. Instead the kind face of George Lazarus was loomin
g close. He had a tray of petit fours and was passing it to her.

  “Oh, thank you Mr. Lazarus.”

  She helped herself to a sandwich, thinking it might calm her worries, and then passed the tray onward.

  “Excuse me, everyone. I’d like to start today’s meeting by showing a short video.” Drae motioned for someone to begin the presentation. The logo for Draecon International flashed up on the white screen at one end of the room. The logo faded and a scene that looked like a major metropolitan city morphed into view from the background. A line of black limousines was taking a highway. The sides of the road were lined with tall palm trees, and Margaret guessed the scene had been filmed somewhere in South America. It certainly wasn’t London.

  One of the cars exited off the highway and traveled down a narrow two-lane road. The frame changed to a scene inside the limousine. Two women in business attire sat in the rear and two gentlemen in similar dress were facing rearward.

  “I thought the meeting went well,” one of the men said. The three others nodded.

  The video panned outside again and a group of beat-up pickup trucks came up alongside of the limo. The driver slammed on the brakes to stop before colliding with a green trash truck that cut him off, but he didn’t succeed. The men in the pickup trucks got out and bullets filled the air, riddling the sides of the limousine. One of the gun-toting bandits held up his right hand, and the shooting ceased. Dogs barked furiously in the distance. One of the bandits walked to the limo, opened the back door, and the bloody bullet-ridden corpse of a man fell halfway out with the man’s head dropped onto the asphalt.

  “Lights, please,” Alex James said as the movie screen went blank.

  “Okay, pretty scary stuff. Yeah, I thought so too the first time I saw this. The reason we showed this is because it could happen to any of us in this room. We all carry valuable secrets about this company,” Alex said, sounding dramatic as usual. “We all travel internationally. All of us could be potential targets for kidnap, or in the case of this video, even worse.”

  “I’m sure all of you know Mr. Valtrop,” Alex said, pressing the green intercom button. “Jim, you’ve got the room.”