21. Jones Mafia
jones mafia
Mirren
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Brody Daxton replies with a look of disbelief on his too-young face. “It’s not for long and it’s just recon. Four days… seven tops.”
“Details?” I grab a pen and pad, knowing exactly what I’m not allowed to notate.
“Taiwan. Jet leaves tonight from Atlanta. I can get you on a plane to Hartsfield-Jackson around noon. You’re a tech mogul who’s been tapped to see the newest factory where the chips are made.
You can choose your persona. But wear the glasses.
We need to map the factory layout and get all specifications.
Let them wine you and dine you. The more you can see, the better.
The more details the better. The chips are universal across generators and CPUs alike. ”
I note I need to look up weather and brush up on all things tech on my trip. “Anything else?”
“All personal devices, IDs, anything that could track you is left at home. No computer. No cell phone. You’re Tanzi Shackleford for this job, with all her credentials.”
“Done. Do you want me at Mobile or Pensacola for the flight?”
“Pensacola. Noon takeoff.” The screen goes black.
Well, nothing has the impact of a slap of cold water to the face like a last-minute trip to do recon and doing it in the dark.
The good news about being tech mogul Tanzi is that I get to have money and play the bitch. As far as assignments go, it’s not the worst I’ve had. I have one bougie suitcase for just such an occasion.
I dye my eyebrows jet black so my face looks paler and more angular, and somehow my hair looks like the sun streaks are very expensive highlights. I check the weather in Taiwan to pack and get ready for my day… or in this case, my week. By eleven, I’m at the airport.
Work trip. Back by Thanksgiving. Don’t worry.
The replies are immediate.
Dad
Be smart, darling girl. I know you will be.
Mom
Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
To my brothers, I send another.
Taking off with a couple of Army buddies for a camping trip. Don’t be envious.
Rookie—Davie
Enjoy. I’m sure the mosquitoes will.
Hambone—Jamie
{Saluting emoji}
He’s always the one with the most to say and can do it in the least number of words.
Zipper—Mikey
Be safe.
Wiggle—Johnny
On purpose?
Skipper—Charlie
Wiggle, you know she means on purpose. As if we could ever get her indoors and civilized.
Be safe, Scooter. I’d hate to be right and have to gloat over you in the afterlife.
And why would you have cause to gloat?
Skipper—Charlie
Because I’m me and you’re you. Don’t do something crazy on a dare. That includes courting bears.
As if I’d court them. I’d Chuck Norris them.
Rookie—Davie
A moment of silence please, for a man who beat the sun in a staring contest, the man who can hear braille, the man who…
Wiggle—Johnny
You’re weird.
Rookie—Davie
Never claimed otherwise.
I’ll be off grid if these fools take me where they’re planning. Don’t worry if I’m MIA. You know I can handle myself.
Hambone—Jamie
We know.
Skipper—Charlie
If you need us…
I know. I know. The Jones Mafia will come in hot with bluster and questionable skills.
Zipper—Mikey
Don’t tempt us. I could rock a suit if we need to be Mafiosos.
I was using the term loosely.
They continue, but I let it go. Swallowing hard, I flip over to my text with Strider. I’m still pissed, but after a decent night’s sleep and looking my career choices dead in the eyes, I call the feeling what it really is, confusion.
The man has told me he cares. He’s shown me one hundred ways to Sunday that he wants me. We live too far away from each other to play games. And, quite frankly, we’re too old to be pulling high school crap. Well, at least he is.
But the thought that’s crept in since I got Daxton’s call this morning is one I can’t shake.
I respect Strider Anderson. And I believe him when he says he was pissed at himself.
I have no clue why he pulled the shit he did, but I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt—once—and see how it plays out.
And my timing is shit.
I reread the last couple of messages.
Strider
Baby, I was starting our conversation over. No lies. No big reveals around diseases. No anger.
Yeah, the no anger part was a fail. You’re pissed and so am I.
What do you have to be pissed about?
Pissed at myself, not you.
Goodnight, Freckles. Sweet dreams.
And if I remove the tone I assumed last night, I can see the man I know.
I hope you slept well. I didn’t. So much on my mind, and if I’m being honest, I don’t sleep well.
I did in your arms which was odd for me and certainly most welcome.
Kind of mind-blowing actually, since the idea of being trapped is a phobia of mine.
But I digress… I’m pissed about last night.
I get that you are too. I miss you and that’s messing with me too.
And not just for the sleep. Or the sex. But you.
And yesterday wasn’t you. Give me a few days, and I’ll reach out.
I need some time to get my head straight.
I schedule the message for three this afternoon, knowing I won’t be able to see if there’s a response and hating that I’ll go radio silent on him when things feel so tentative.
Checking and double checking. Not one word of my message is a lie. Not one. He can not like it, but at least it’s all true.
I drop my cell phone in the center console of my SUV, lock up, and head for my work trip as Tanzi Shackleford.
Strider
Late morning, hours into emails, follow-ups, and pushing off meetings until tomorrow so I’ll have my feet underneath me, there’s a knock on my door. I look up to see Margie, our payroll specialist.
“Strider, glad your back. Can I get a moment?” She walks into my office and closes the door behind her.
“Two things”—she holds up two fingers ticking off her to-do list—“One, will you remind the team that next week’s timecards need to be in by this Friday instead of Monday morning.
Short payroll week with Thanksgiving, and I want to make sure we’re getting that into their hands in time. ”
I nod.
“And two, and I didn’t want to put this in an email. I’m seeing… anomalies. We have some folks, all working under the same project manager, whose timecards are suspicious.”
“Suspicious how?”
“Either overtime or straight forty, but it’s always the same number and rotating member of the crew.
And it was so small, it would normally escape notice, but I overheard someone on the phone a couple of weeks ago and it tickled my senses.
So I did an audit. Same crew. Same little pieces of overtime eating here and there into jobs.
Everyone’s at exactly forty except for the person of the week. ”
“Okay.” My suspicions are raised too.
“So I started driving by the job sites.”
“You what?” I know better than to drive my hands onto my hips at my size, especially with a woman in a closed room. It’s not a power play, but it’s also not her job.
“Yeah, well. Fraud impacts me too. We’re all bonused based on profitability and having someone skim from the top lowers my potential income, so I started investigating.
That crew that was there until five on Thursday, all clocking out at the same time and signed off on by the project manager?
They weren’t there at four-thirty. That early start one Tuesday morning?
Yeah, you guessed it… Not so much. So we need to figure out how long we’ve been stolen from and who all is in on it, because it’s not one guy and it wasn’t one time. ”
I extend a hand to Margie to take a seat, but she shakes it off, saying, “Too much energy. Or anger.”
“How long have you been checking on the jobs?”
“Just three weeks. No need in coming to you if it was somebody jealous or slinging mud, you know? And you were gone last week. Besides, no one would suspect me anyway.”
She’s right.
“Okay, so will you get everything together today for me and put a meeting on my calendar for the two of us to go over the crew, their payrolls for, say, the last six months? Can we meet tomorrow morning about it?”
When she nods, I continue, “And get me the crew’s site location today. I know we won’t have records until later, but I’ll drop in, bring some coffees and waters, and see how their job is going.”
“And tip them off?”
“Nah. A surprise safety check-in will make them think nothing’s coming for a while and gives them some freedom to continue on.”
A smile breaks across her face.
“I’m thankful for all you do here, Margie. For finding this, for looking into it. But stand down for a bit, so we can be strategic and no word gets out. Okay?”
“Fine by me. Sorry for dropping this on you on a Monday morning post vacation. But I was angry and didn’t want to be the only one in the know.
” She reaches for the door handle but turns back to me.
“By the way, if it’s okay to say, the sun and fresh air did you good.
” She doesn’t wait for an answer before she’s through the door and winding her way past the cubicles and to her office.
So that’s how it’s going to be today. I’ll need way more than coffee if this pace continues. And it does.
It’s noon when buzzing in my desk shows a new text message from Charlie.
Charlie
Call me ASAP.
What fresh hell awaits me now?
I stand, close my door, and do what I’ve always done—tackle the hardest task first. I hate it, but putting off the worst of my to-do list only makes that thing bigger over the course of the day. Grabbing my phone, I call Charlie.
He answers with three words. “What. The. Fuck?”