A Taste For Danger (3 page)

Tom made small-talk until they were done with their steaks. Then he ordered a port. Jack declined. Finally, Tom started in on the real business.

“You’ve been placed here, regardless of what they may think at Little D—

“Little D?” asked Jack.

“Oh, they didn’t tell you this morning? HQ is known as Big D, and the satellites are known by different letters. The site you work at is Little D, because all the department heads are housed there.”

“Ah,”said Jack. “Got it.”

Tom continued. “I hired you because—and this is only between you and me. Capishe?”

“Okay.”

“I hired you because someone is embezzling from the firm.”

“Oh.” Jack paused to consider this.

“We don’t know who, only that someone is. Our books, the ones we keep at HQ and the ones kept at Little D, as well as some others, no longer align.”

“I’m not really a numbers man...” started Jack.

“Don’t worry about it. We have numbers men out the ying-yang. What we need is someone like you who has a nose for trouble and tracking down criminals. Even though this is the white-collar variety, your instincts are still valuable.”

“Well,” said Jack, flummoxed, “thank you for placing your trust in me.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, you should know that only four people besides yourself know about this and they are all at Big D, at HQ. One is me, one is my boss, the overall Vice-President, and the other two are the CEO and CFO. I’m talking about over the whole company. Not heads of Divisions or Departments. That’s what Headquarters consists of.

Now Jack understood the uneasiness of the others back at ‘Little D’ towards him. The biggest of the bigwigs really did hire him. Again he felt out of his element. How was he supposed to track down some white-collar paleface playing with numbers?

Tom came across as unfazed and supremely confident.
I guess that’s what being a bigwig does to you
. Jack doubted Tom paid for parking. He doubted Tom paid for much of anything at all. Sure enough, at the end of the meal, Tom whipped out the company card. “Business lunch,” he said to Jack as he put the card on the tray.

Jack needed to get all the info he could while he had Tom’s attention. Especially since no one at ‘Little D’ even knew about the case. “How much has been taken to date?”

“Over 500K,” Tom answered. “Even to a company like Devonshire, that’s not small potatoes.

“Wffffttttt,” Jack whistled. “Are there any books or records I can review? How did you discover the missing amounts?”

Tom made one of his grand gestures again with his hand, waving it across the table. “I’ve already sent the files to you over email. They should be waiting for you back in your office. Our CFO discovered the discrepancy last year.”

“Last year? Isn’t that a dead case by now?”

“No,” said Tom. “At first it was only 250K and we planned to write it off. We did an in-house investigation, but came up with nothing. This year, the CFO discovered another 250K missing. That’s when we decided to bring you in.”

“I see,” said Jack. The company wanted to keep it quiet and would rather have written off the first amount than have to own up to the fact that problems existed. He bet there were ways they could write it off that didn’t cost them a dollar. But when the second amount went missing, they knew they had to act. Made sense.

“Remember, this is just between you and me. Keep the lips silent to anyone at Little D or anywhere else about this.” Tom made the universal shhh sign with his forefinger over his lips.

“Will do,” said Jack. “And everything I need is in my email?”

“Everything we know so far.”

“Who did the investigation last time?” asked Jack.

“He’s no longer with us.”

“Hmmm.”

“Don’t let that scare you. We have faith in you. I have faith in you. You’ll have as much time as you need to get to the bottom of this. I’ve sent you everything I have.”

“Okay,” said Jack, still uneasy. “Is there a way for me to interview the CFO?”

Tom tilted his head and looked thoughtful. Then he focused his eyes directly on Jack. “I suppose I could set something like that up.”

“Just to, you know, hear what he has to say too.” Jack had the feeling he was treading on thin ice without a clue as to why.

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Tom finally. “I’ll email you.”

With that the two men rose from the booth. Tom dropped Jack off at Little D. Each remained silent on the way back, lost in their own thoughts.

Chapter Five

After lunch Jack walked back to his office to check his email. Sure enough, dozens of documents came through, all sent from Tom. He had his work cut out for him. He spent the rest of the afternoon scouring the documents. From one of them he learned the name of the first investigator—the one that was no longer with the company: Jerry Wilson. None of the paperwork said what position Jerry held while he worked at the firm. He wanted to contact Jerry. Jack hoped Jerry would be in a talking mood.

Around time to go home he had a visitor. Cindy popped her head in.
Why? To check up on me?
He had almost forgotten about her case. It wasn’t even related to why he’d been hired.

“Do you have them in your briefcase?” she asked, referring to the files she’d given him.

“Yes, but I don’t know how much help I’m going to be.”

“I’m sure you will,” she said. “Just read the files.” Then she was gone.

In over his head, Jack missed having someone to bounce ideas around with. Carolyn leaving created a void in more ways than one.

As he gathered his jacket up to go, another visitor stopped by. At the door stood Cheryl Wong.
“Hola. Habla usted español u otros idiomas?”
Cheryl was a petite woman with pale skin and dark hair that hung loosely around her shoulders. Attractive, now that he saw her up close.

Jack stared at her, perplexed.

She came in and closed the door. Then she took a seat at his desk. She seemed comfortable, like she had done this before. “Sorry,” she said now in English. That’s just my way with new people. I like to find out if there are any other bilinguals here and Spanish is the most common.”

“Ah,” said Jack. “Well, I speak a little football and baseball, but that’s about it.”

Cheryl laughed. She was prettier when she smiled. But then most women were.

“You are on your way out?” she asked. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor? My car is in the shop and I took the subway here this morning, but I don’t want to take it back after dark. Would you be able to give me a lift home?”

Jack was nothing if not gallant. “Sure, I could do that.”

Then she threw a twist in. “You know, there’s a bar on the way. We could stop and have a drink.”

Jack studied her. What was she up to? He’d have to go through with it to figure her out.

“If you’re up to it,” she added.

“Okay, sure. But I can’t stay too late.”

“You have a wife or partner?”

Blunt, this one.
“No, I just have some work I have to get to.”

“Your first day, and they’re already piling it on? That hardly seems fair.” She pouted her lips in sympathy.

What was that song?
Maneater
? He had a feeling it was an apt description of Cheryl Wong.

Jack made sure to get his parking pass from the secretary for tomorrow. He wasn’t made of money, and today was gonna cost him twenty bucks. Cheryl followed him out, and they took the elevator down together. Jack thought this little get-together might be a good chance to interview her. What was she head of again? He couldn’t remember. He’d have to ask her. His instincts told him to wait until the bar.

Jack made sure to put his briefcase in the trunk. Cheryl brought a satchel with her and sat up front. She directed him out. Apparently she lived not too far away from him, although in the city, even a block of traffic could turn a short drive into an hour. Stuck in rush hour, Cheryl made small-talk.

“So you dined with the big cheese today?” She opened.

“Word gets around fast.”

“Yes, anytime someone from HQ comes, everyone knows it. Knows to be on their toes.”

“I see.”

“What they can’t figure out is whether to be on their toes around you.”

Now he got it. She was on a scouting mission for the office. He wondered if they drew straws. “I’m just a nobody,” he said.

“I doubt that,” said Cheryl, “or the Deputy VP wouldn’t have taken such an interest in you. So what are you here to do?”

She said it smiling and casual, but underneath he could feel the shark in her.

“I’m not allowed to discuss the details,” he said.

“Oh my,” said Cheryl and raised her hands as if she was being held up. “Never mind. I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Thanks,” he said, then stayed quiet. She didn’t try to pry anymore. He wondered if she would after a few drinks. Wait. That was his plan. Who was playing who here?

The bar she chose was a nice one, and after parking, they were seated in a booth at the back almost immediately. A rowdier crowd held court around the bar, but they sat away from the noise.

They each ordered appetizers and a drink. Jack stuck with beer. He didn’t want to get liquored up. Cheryl ordered a fruity drink. Then the sparring commenced.

Cheryl started first. “So what did you do, Mr. Jack, before you came to work with us?”

For some reason Jack didn’t want to say he was a detective. “Freelancer,” he answered. “What did you say you were in charge of again? I’ve met so many people today I can’t keep anything straight.”

“Government Contracts,” she answered.

“Oh that’s right.” Now he remembered.

“And what did you do as a freelancer?”

“Oh you know,” he said, putting her off, “found things that were lost, protected possessions, that sort of thing. Before that I was a cop.”

Cheryl’s expression remained impassive. “A policeman. That sounds exciting.” Cheryl took the toothpick in her drink and began to eat the fruit on it. Only the way she was doing it...
Could she be? Nah...
Jack thought to himself as she sucked on a cherry.
Well I did wear a suit today. And shaved.

“It wasn’t that exciting,” he said. “Just worked a regular beat. Got shot up one too many times and retired.”

“Oh,” here she went with the pouty lips again, “do you have scars?”

“A few.” He could picture some of his friends falling all over themselves by now. “How do you like working for Devonshire? How long have you been there?”

“I like it ok. It’s a job, you know? I’ve been there five years. Most people have worked there longer.”

“So people must like it.”

“Yeah. Good salary and benefits. People stick around.”

“What about Jerry Wilson? He didn’t stick around.”

Cheryl laughed and twirled the stick with pineapple on it around in her hand. “What is this, the third degree?” she asked, still half-laughing.

“No, sorry. I just heard he was my predecessor and wondered what happened. I like this job; I want to make sure I don’t make any mistakes.” Jack figured that sounded good enough.

Cheryl looked thoughtful. “Jerry was here for about six months, I think. I always got the feeling he didn’t leave on his own accord, if you know what I mean.”

“Ah.”

“But I don’t know any more about it. If you really want to know, ask Cindy. She knows everything. But it’s probably confidential.”

“Yeah.”

Cheryl looked him in the eyes and sucked down the pineapple. Their appetizers were done, and they had each downed about two drinks. Then she surprised him. “Hey, you want to get out of here?”

Their eyes met and held each other’s gaze. Jack stared, dumfounded.
After that comment, well...I’m game if you are.
He arched an eyebrow. “Sure,” he said, “my place or yours?” Jack’s experience with women had usually been that they felt more comfortable in their own homes. Cheryl surprised him again.

“Yours is fine. Is it close?”

“Pretty close, yeah.” He thought of his dump of an apartment. He hadn’t cleaned it in forever. There were probably old pizza boxes and bourbon bottles around.

Cheryl wrapped her coat around her.

Oh well. What the hell.
A month had gone by since his last blonde spree. If Cheryl was okay with it, then he would be too. “I have to warn you,” he said. “I live in a pigsty.”

Cheryl laughed again. “All bachelors do.”

“Okay then,” said Jack as they walked out into the night. “Away we go.”

Chapter Six

“Wow, you really do live in a pigsty,” commented Cheryl after he turned the light on.

“I warned you.”

“Yes. Yes you did,” said Cheryl, but she stood there with her coat on looking around as if not sure whether to stay or go.

Jack didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. “Can I take your coat?” That would give him a clue.

She turned around to face him and smiled. “Why, yes, thank you.”

All he needed to hear.

He had some drinks in the fridge and some bottles out. She opted for a bourbon and coke. That was one thing he could supply—alcohol. He poured himself his usual scotch.
But only one.

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, chatting and drinking. Cheryl was Chinese-American and had come over as a small child. Her parents still lived nearby. She had two brothers and two sisters. Jack was originally from Philly and still rooted for all the teams. She didn’t know anything about sports. Besides work, it slowly became clear that they had very little in common.

She put her drink on the coffee table.

“Would you like another?” Jack asked.

“No,” she said and scooted closer to him. “I’ve had enough for tonight. We have to work tomorrow, you know.”

“Do you want me to take you home?” Between the rush-hour traffic, the restaurant, and the drinks back at his place, it
was
getting late.

She looked up at him, and the corners of her mouth curved up. “No, that is not what I had in mind.”

“And what exactly did you have in mind, Ms.Wong?” teased Jack.

Her answer was to lift herself up and kiss him. Jack reached behind him for the side table and put his drink down. She was a tiny thing. In reaching up she had basically thrown her body onto his. He wrapped his arms around her and brushing her hair away from her face, kissed her. Tongues intertwined, they stayed in that position for several minutes. Jack finally came up for air.