Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
O live wasn’t going to gain any information from this scene. Now she needed to make herself scarce before any more trouble arose.
If she were honest with herself, running into Jason had left her shaken. His working at Conglomerate would be a problem. A big problem. So was the dead guy she’d found.
She paced toward Detective Angelos. At a break in the conversation, she asked, “Am I free to go?”
“Yes.” He gave her a curt nod. “We’ll be in contact if we need any more information.”
“Perfect.”
She headed toward the door, ready to make a getaway. But just as she reached for the knob, a hand came down on her shoulder. Without looking, she knew exactly who it was.
She slowly turned toward Jason, unsure what he might say this time.
“The two of us need to talk,” he told her. “At the coffeehouse downstairs. Six o’clock.”
She loved the way he didn’t frame it as a request. No, it was a command.
Which didn’t at all sound like the Jason she’d known as a teenager. He’d been confident but kind, especially to her. He was the type who could be tough on the football field but tender when it mattered—like the time they’d found an injured dog on the side of the road, and he’d cleared his schedule to help the creature.
But people changed. Olive certainly had.
She wanted to refuse to obey his command, simply because of his attitude. But maybe she should meet him and clear the air—to just get this over with.
For that reason, she didn’t argue. “I’ll be there.”
Then she could find out what kind of absurdity he was talking about.
As soon as she was out of the SCI corridor with the door closed behind her, she tried to relax her shoulders.
It didn’t work.
Instead, she took a deep breath.
That didn’t work either.
It was imperative in these undercover assignments to remain low-key. Finding a dead body was in no way remaining low-key.
Running into an ex-boyfriend wasn’t ideal either.
She hoped her investigation wasn’t compromised. She needed to talk to Tevin and soon.
Right now might be the perfect time to find other information she needed. All the higher-ups at the company were distracted by Beau’s death. Security was also preoccupied.
If there was ever a time for her to get into Bennett Artfield’s office, it was now. The Sales and Marketing Officer was currently her number one suspect, thanks to some encrypted communications her team had found. The messages themselves weren’t definitive proof that he was the one behind the possible sale. But they did shoot him to the top of their list.
She just needed to see if he had anything in his office that might indicate any secret meetings or back room deals. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, only that she would know when she saw it.
The man was most likely too smart to leave information like that out in the open. However, Olive wanted to see for herself, just in case.
She started down another hallway, back toward the center of the building. People working here joked that the place was set up like a snowflake. A nucleus stood at the center with five branches—or corridors—shooting from it, each one containing a different department.
The walls and floors were all stark white and streamlined, without any frills.
Somehow, the place was even absent of any smell. Probably because of the ionizers running all the time.
Olive stepped into the nucleus. She needed to go up to Level 4 and down Corridor 5, the hallway where the top-tier executive offices were located. She wouldn’t know for sure that she could get inside Bennett’s office until she saw the area and who was still there.
Her own office, one she’d barely moved into, was located on the same floor but down a separate corridor.
She had just stepped from the elevator when someone called her name. She froze, forced herself not to look disappointed at the interruption, and then turned.
Claudine Marshall stood there. The IT specialist was in her late twenties with bobbed, blonde hair and an infectious smile. She was perky, friendly, and talkative. Talkative people could be both an asset and a liability. Olive’s path had crossed with the woman’s several times already.
“I heard what happened,” Claudine started, her blue eyes wide. “Is it true you found a body?”
Olive scanned her surroundings for any listening ears. A few people walked past with folders or phones in their hands. But each of them kept going, not lingering to overhear any gossip.
She turned back to Claudine, knowing there was no need to deny the truth. “I did.”
“Is it true that it was Beau?” Claudine’s eyes teared up as she waited for Olive’s answer.
“It was,” Olive said. “Did you know him?”
“Not personally. But I’ve seen him on occasion, like at office parties. I know he’s Head of Development and that he’s a nice guy—or he was a nice guy, I mean.” She frowned. “I don’t think he was married, so at least there’s that. But why . . . ?”
She stared at Olive as if expecting an explanation.
Olive shrugged. “I suppose we can leave those details for the police to figure out.”
She leaned closer and whispered, “I heard he was shot, right here in this office building. We have security in place. We all walk through metal detectors. How did someone even get inside with a gun?”
Olive had a theory about that, but she didn’t share it. She didn’t tell Claudine about how weapons called ghost guns could be made at home now out of products that weren’t metal, which allowed them to get past security. It also meant these guns had no serial numbers to trace them.
Most people in Olive’s position wouldn’t have that knowledge. Giving a resourceful answer would only make her look suspicious.
Olive offered a gentle smile to reassure the woman. “Hopefully, detectives on the case will find the answers.”
“Let’s hope. Everyone in the office is nervous right now, to say the least.” Claudine rubbed her arms as if chilled as she glanced around.
“As they should be. Things like this shouldn’t happen in the workplace. People shouldn’t have to be scared when they go to their job.”
“Or when they go home,” Claudine added. “Or when they ride public transportation. Or walk down the street. The list goes on.”
Her words were true. Yet those things seemed to be the reality of life today. Every time there was an incident, news traveled quickly.
Olive firmly believed people’s brains weren’t wired to absorb so much tragedy and bad news like that which social media gave them access to. The constant overload put people in a continual state of anxiety.
Then when disaster hit home, it made a person realize that no one was insulated. There wasn’t a threshold on how many bad things happened to you either. People didn’t hit their quotas and move on, relaxing for the next several years because there were limits on how much a person could absorb.
Olive had learned that the hard way.
She pulled herself from the heavy thoughts and looked back at Claudine. “Well, if you’ll excuse me. I need to run.”
Claudine nodded and straightened her shoulders. “Of course.”
Olive hurried into Corridor 5.
Before she’d ever stepped foot into this building, she’d studied the layout. She’d also studied the executives. Their history. Their past projects. She wanted to learn everything she could.
It was time to put that knowledge to good use.
As she headed down the hallway, her gaze zeroed in on Bennett’s office. She’d have to pass four other doors before she reached it.
The large executive offices lined one wall. On the other there were cubicles where support staff worked. Many of those support staff milled around each other’s desks, whispering to each other.
When they spotted Olive, they resumed their work as if they hadn’t been gossiping.
She couldn’t blame them. Someone dying at the office gave people a legitimate concern to talk about.
Olive nodded at several employees as she headed down the hall.
Rule number one when making things look believable: you had to look confident, like you knew what you were doing. At the first sign of self-doubt, other people would also doubt you.
It was one of the many life lessons her dad had taught her.
Olive was certain he would have never guessed she’d use those skills in her job one day.
Just forty more feet, and she would be at Bennett’s office.
Right now, no one was near it, not even his administrative assistant.
As Olive walked past an unmanned desk, she grabbed a manila folder off a file rack. She needed to have a reason to go into the office.
When she paused at Bennett’s door, she didn’t look to see if anyone was around. It would be too obvious she shouldn’t be here if she did.
Instead, she twisted the knob.
But before she could open it, a voice sounded behind her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Olive froze, preparing herself to talk her way out of this situation.
Olive slowly turned toward the high-pitched voice.
Wanda Billings. Sixty-two. Short salt-and-pepper hair. Stern and humorless but dependable.
She was one of the administrative assistants in the area. She must have just stepped out of the bathroom around the corner.
Wanda observed Olive coolly before saying, “Mr. Artfield isn’t in right now.”
Olive forced a smile. “I know. He asked me to drop something off for him.”
Her gaze remained cold. “I see.”
When Wanda continued to stare at her, remaining in place, Olive knew she needed to pivot her strategy. “Would you feel more comfortable if you went into his office instead of me?”
Wanda’s chilly expression broke, and she blinked rapidly as if surprised by the suggestion. She’d been expecting an argument, hadn’t she?
“Oh, no,” Wanda said. “Of course not. I just don’t normally let people go into Mr. Artfield’s office if he isn’t in there.”
“That’s understandable. But he’s going to need this confidential report when he gets back.” Olive held out the folder. “Would you like to do the honors?”
She hesitated another moment before shaking her head. “No, no. You go right ahead. I’ll let him know you left it there.”
“No need. Mr. Artfield asked me to do it. People should do what they say they’re going to do, and it shouldn’t be a surprise to those they’re working for. Don’t you agree?”
“Of course.” Wanda’s eyes sparkled as if she’d just found a kindred spirit.
Which was exactly what Olive wanted.
Olive gave her a nod before stepping into the office. She plucked a piece of paper from the folder and left it on the desk.
Snooping around would be riskier with Wanda nearby.
Olive glanced at the window on the door. No one was there.
She quickly scanned his desk. Then, angling her body to conceal her actions, she slid a drawer open.
Her breath caught.
Was that a burner phone? It was. Several receipts had also been stuffed in the drawer.
She grabbed one. Before unfolding it, she glanced at the door again.
The coast still appeared clear. But she didn’t have much time.
It was for a restaurant on the other side of town. The time stamp indicated he’d gone there two days ago at 11:13 in the evening.
Kind of strange, but maybe not.
She closed the drawer and scanned the rest of his office.
Her gaze stopped on a picture of Bennett with a man she’d never seen before. She quickly took a picture of the photo on her cell phone, just in case that man proved to be significant later.
Her time was up, she realized. If she stayed in here much longer, Wanda would become suspicious.
But as a shadow crossed the doorway, she wondered if she’d waited too late.