Murder Inc.: A Sci-fi Thriller: Book 1 (9 page)

Charlie was standing in the kitchen pacing when the front lock disengaged and the door creaked open. He raced down the hallway and met Samantha as she dropped her case to close the door.

“Jesus, am I glad to see you.” He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed lightly. She was slightly off balance, and almost toppled over save for grabbing onto the door before it had closed.

Laughing, she said, “Charlie, gimme a moment, will you?”

He released her. “Yeah, sorry. Just glad you’re back, you know?” Charlie took her suitcase by the handle and pressed a button. It floated up off the floor.

“And I’m glad to be back,” she said. “That damn teleport station at LaGuardia. They had portals shut down again and the queues were huge. Had to stand around for ages in D.C. waiting to get back.”

They walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, Charlie guiding the hovering suitcase. As they reached the open area, he leaned it against the bench, and took two glasses of wine from the counter and handed one to Samantha.

“What’s the occasion?”

He arched his eyebrows high. “You being home. Us getting to spend five minutes together.”

She smiled and leaned forward, kissing him on the lips. “Of course.” She kissed him again. “I’ve missed you.”

“Really?”

She frowned. “Don’t be silly. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in work I become oblivious to everything going on around me.”

“Yeah, you do.” He smiled. “But I still love you.” He kissed her again. “I’m just so glad you’re home safe.”

She stroked his hair. “Of course, hun.” She frowned. “You seem a little… worried. Everything okay?

Charlie looked away. “Yeah, fine. You know, just things on the news, and your mind starts making up silly stuff.”

“There’s no point doing that.” She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“Yeah.” They separated. “How was the trip?”

“It was good. We got some big issues resolved and I know where we’re going, now. There have been some developments at work. A problem employee—you know the one I was telling you about last week?” Charlie feigned understanding with a nod. “Well, my boss is going to do something about it. And we’ll be able to hire someone else to replace them.”

“Nice. Great news.” Charlie threw the rest of his wine down. “Cause for celebration. Drink up.” Samantha did.

“How’s work with you?”

Charlie took the empty glasses and refilled them. “Hmm, not so good. I’m strongly thinking about moving on.”

Samantha frowned. “Really?”

“Tom too. We were discussing it the other day.”

“The salary is very good though. You’ll be hard pressed to find something that pays so well.

“I know. The perks are amazing, but I’m just not enjoying it anymore. Too many politics.”

“Anything to do with Dom?”

He stopped pouring, and looked off in thought. “A little, maybe. Tom and I both agree it isn’t what it used to be.”

“You’re not thinking about this because
Tom
is, are you?”

Charlie frowned. “No. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it.”

“Well, maybe give it a little longer. Hopefully it changes. You know how many people are out of work these days. Getting a job is difficult enough, but one that pays
so
well? I know you’re well qualified and all, but…”

“I won’t do anything hasty.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“When’s your next trip?”

“Sunday.” She made a mock terrified face—teeth bared. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. This should be the last one for a while.”

“How long?”

“Three days. I’m back Wednesday night.”

“Shit, Sam. You said things were going to change.”

“
They are.
After this one, I swear it.”

“Another three days being stressed out of my mind worrying about you.”

She put her arms around him. “Hun, you don’t have to be. I’m perfectly fine when I travel. It’s safe—we stay in the best places with the tightest security. Everything is under control.”

“Yeah, yeah. I can’t help it though. There are things that go on in this world that we can’t control… believe me.”

He pulled her tight, thinking about Dom Curwood and how his wife died just before him.

Eighteen minutes past one.

Fox picked up his fork and stuck it into the fillet on his plate. He’d been staring at the sautéed fish and Greek salad for almost twenty minutes. He’d wait no longer. Bryce wasn’t coming. He was almost fifty minutes late, and in his four years at Janefield, the man had never been late to a meeting. Fox tossed his fork onto the plate and lay back in his chair.

He activated an icon on the screen of his watch, and the voice of Maggie, his personal assistant, echoed though the surround sound of the room.

“Yes, sir?”

“Any word from Bryce yet?”

“No; sorry, Mr. Fox. I’ve tried his executive assistant again, but she hasn’t heard.
She
even tried his wife. She said Mr. Adler did not return home from work last night."

Fox sat forward, unease stirring. “
What?
Ask Jenny what time he left last night.”

“I did. She confirmed he was not in the office yesterday.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“I’ll keep trying to locate him.”

“All right. Thanks, Maggie.”

Fox fell into the chair. A single thought sat like a lump of rock in his gut. He wouldn’t entertain the idea that a second misfortune might have occurred. “It’s not happening.” He sat forward, elbows on his knees, head hanging. “
It’s not happening.”
What should he do? “Take a minute. Think this through.”

The terminal on the desk beeped. Fox lifted his head to the screen and poked the answer icon. A holographic image of Jonas Whitmore’s upper torso and wrinkled face appeared above the desk.

“Hello, Jonas.”

“Tell me what you’re doing about your revenue problem?” Whitmore asked, never one for formal greetings.

Fox sighed. “I’ll get to it.”

“Get to it?
Get to it?
What’s going through your head, Bryan?” Fox felt pain in his teeth as he ground them. He picked up a note on his desk and crumpled it, unable to tell Jonas. Then it was if his old friend read his mind. “Come on, Bryan. We’ve been colleagues for ten years—friends for even longer. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”

“I have a feeling something has happened to another of my senior executives.” He explained it all to Jonas, detailing Bryce Adler’s role, the information they had from his assistant, and finally him missing the meeting. “He’s the most punctual person I’ve ever met.” Jonas fell silent. “Chekov is working against me. I know it.”

“If it’s true, then you have a serious problem, Bryan.”

“I know.”

“Let me make some calls at this end. I’ll find out.”

“Thank you, Jonas.”

“Pull your team together. Pull in your most loyal people and figure this thing out. You’re not done yet.”

Fox ended the call and leaned back in his chair. Jonas was right. His most loyal people around him, showing solidarity, were Tom and Johanna. Get their thoughts and perceptions. He already knew Tom didn’t trust Jennings, but what did Johanna think? He considered calling up Charlie Billings, but decided to leave him for the second round once he’d fleshed out thoughts from the other two.

Soon after, Maggie retrieved them for him, and they sat on plush sofas at the north end of Fox’s spacious office, looking out onto the city. Fox paced the window, while Tom and Joanna sat looking edgy, their hands in their laps, neither sure what it was all about yet.

“Tom, you came to me the other day and mentioned your concerns about Robert.” Tom glanced at Johanna, whose eyes widened. “It’s okay, Tom, we can trust her.” Johanna managed a thin smile. “I’ve had time to consider what you said and I think there’s something to it.”

“Robert?” Johanna said. Thick blonde hair sat bundled atop her head, and intelligent green eyes peered back at them. She had to be in her sixties, Fox thought, but a strict diet and expensive medical work kept her looking twenty years younger. She had a sharp mind and impeccable judgment that Fox had benefited from numerous times.

Fox nodded. “I know, Johanna. A week ago, before Dom’s Curwood’s death, I wouldn’t have believed it either,” Fox rubbed his jaw. “But, given what’s transpired since, I’ve had to draw certain conclusions.”

Johanna finished sipping from her coffee cup. “Specifically?”

Fox stopped pacing. “I think Robert Jennings is working against me. Trying to make me fail.”

Tom sat up. “Jesus.
I knew it
.”

“That’s a heavy accusation,” Johanna said, frowning.

“Bryce Adler is missing. If it pans out the way I think, he’ll be found dead shortly, either by way of murder or suicide.” Nobody spoke. Fox took the sofa opposite them. Tom dropped his head. Johanna’s eyes were glassy. “And Dom—you really think he killed himself?”

Tom almost leapt out of the seat. “I don’t believe that. And neither does Charlie.” Fox and Johanna shot him a look. “Well, we spoke about it.”

Fox touched his watch again. “Any word on Bryce, Mag?”

“No,” Maggie said through the intercom speakers. “We’re still looking.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope you’re wrong about Bryce,” Tom said. Fox nodded agreement. “What do you want us to do in the meantime?”

“Keep an eye on things—Jennings, in particular. Charlie, too.”

Tom sat forward. “Charlie? He’s not in on this—”

Fox put up both hands. “I know. I never suggested that. But Dom and Bryce were both key people and loyal to me—as far as I knew.” He let the thought sink in. “Which means the both of you need to be careful, too.”

“I say bring it on. If Jennings or anyone else wants to have a crack at me, let them. I’ll be ready.”

“That’s good, Tom. But there’s Johanna; and although she doesn’t really have any contact with me, I want you to keep an eye on Tabitha Marks.”

“Tabitha?” Tom’s face became flushed. “What’s she got to do with it?”

Fox considered asking why Tom looked uncomfortable. “I can’t say now, but please, just look out for her.”

“What does all of this mean for the longer term?” Johanna asked.

“That’s a good question. I don’t yet know. I’m getting pressured from my allies on the board to lift our results, but I can’t focus on that while losing people.”

Johanna folded her hands into her lap. “The board isn’t generally patient.”

“No, it’s not. And if I’m honest, I’d have to tell you my time has probably run out. I was hoping to transition to a new CEO—”

“
What
?” Tom’s face mimicked surprise.

“I won’t go into it now. There’s reason the results are down—ok, maybe Jennings has been sabotaging things lately, but my time is done. I don’t have the passion for this anymore. I can’t make the hard decisions we need to keep things in balance. I don’t feel compelled to make the world a better place.” Tom looked at him. Johanna had her head down. “I need to sort this Jennings thing out. Beyond that, I think there will be an opportunity for one of you to run this division. That will certainly be my recommendation.”

Tom and Johanna both left in a glum mood on the back of Fox’s words. He poured a glass of Scotch and sat back down, staring out at the buildings. It had almost become a hobby for him.

Fox considered Jennings motivations for mutiny. He was the logical successor to Fox’s role when he retired—surely Jennings understood that. So why wasn’t he working
with
Fox instead of against him? Chekov had once told Fox that Robert Jennings would never run a division of the company. Maybe Jennings had caught wind of that. Who knew what Jennings had been told though? Perhaps Chekov was the one pulling the strings and Jennings was doing the dirty work. Could it be anyone else? Tom, Johanna, Charlie even? No. Fox wouldn’t believe that.

The quick option was for him to resign, but with it came greater risk for his family and himself. Once he lost his usefulness, when he was out from the protective blanket, who knew what would happen? He just didn’t think they would let him walk, unless he solved the internal conspiracy and linked it to Chekov. If he was able to do that, the other board members would support the evidence. Perhaps that was a course of action he might take.

A knock sounded from the door. Fox called them in, and Maggie appeared, a downcast look on her face.

“What is it?” Fox asked, rising from the sofa. But he knew before the words came out of her broken mouth.

“It’s Bryce. He’s been found dead.”

“How?” His voice sounded distant.

“Auto accident. He drove off a bridge and drowned.”