Surrender (20 page)

21

C
rime was so not my thing.

It was dark. Quiet. The parking lot was empty. As far as I could tell, there was nobody around. But still I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. I hoped it was just a bad case of guilt.

Standing at my post, hidden in the shadows, not far from the building’s entry, I checked my pocket for the tenth time, making sure I had ready the throwaway cell phone Kam had bought me, just in case someone pulled up.

I was Kam’s lookout.

If there’d ever been a job I couldn’t afford to screw up, this was it. And because the pressure was so high, I was alert to every tiny sound, every little flash of light. The flicker of a firefly made me jump, the rattle of a squirrel digging in the Dumpster. To think I might have to endure this torture for hours . . .

The cell phone buzzed in my pocket, and I practically had a heart attack. I hit the button and whispered, “Yes?”

“Come on in. It’s clear.”

“Didn’t you want me to stay out here and keep an eye out?”

“If we’re going to get anywhere, I’m going to need you inside, helping me.”

“Okay. I’m heading in. Where are you?”

“My office.”

“Got it,” I said as I grabbed the door handle.

“Use the stairs.”

“Okay.” My heart started thumping in my chest as I inched open the door. I said a prayer while I slipped inside and eased the door closed behind me.

Wow, was it dark.

The cell phone’s screen served as a convenient flashlight as I quietly crept down the hall toward the stairwell. As I traveled without being wrestled to the ground by any security guards, I gradually became less terrified and more determined to make this trip worthwhile. I didn’t walk up the stairs, I ran until I was breathless. By the time I was facing Kam’s office door, I was sweaty and breathing heavily, but no longer petrified.

The door was open, so I tiptoed inside. “Where are you?”

“Here.” He was directly behind me.

I whirled around. Now I was inches from him. A wave of sensual heat rocketed through me.

Now is definitely not the time.

“It took you a long time. I was getting worried,” he said.

“I just don’t do well in the dark.” A nervous giggle bubbled in my throat. “I wouldn’t make a good cat burglar.”

“Hopefully you’ll never have to do something like this again.” He took me in his arms and held me for a moment. As good as it felt to be in his arms, I couldn’t help getting antsy. I started wriggling, but he tightened his hold, tipping his head down to whisper, “Listen, if anything happens, if anyone comes in the building, I want you to hide. Here.” He shoved something into my hands, a small cloth bag. “Don’t lose this. No matter what.”

“Okay.” I put the cloth bag in my jacket pocket and zipped it shut. “May I ask, what’s in it?”

“Money. It could come in handy later. Now, I think we should start down in Human Resources.” Taking my hand in his, he pushed through the doorway and led me back toward the stairwell. At the top of the stairs he turned on a small flashlight, training the light on the steps so we wouldn’t fall. HR was a few stories below us. I didn’t ask why he hadn’t asked me to meet him down there.

Once we were safely closed in the Human Resources office, Kam handed me his flashlight and produced a second one from his pocket. He pointed the beam of light at the file cabinets lining the wall. “You start here.”

“Okay.” I pulled open the top drawer and stared down at the dozens of green folders inside. “This is going to take ages. There are . . . how many employees? What should I look for?”

“Roughly two hundred. Look at their applications and hand over anyone who either indicated they have been convicted of a felony or worked for a competitor before coming here.”

“Okay.” I started at the back, pulling each file and inspecting their applications. Meanwhile, Kam did the same, working through a cabinet at the opposite end of the wall. It was tedious, frustrating work. Even though I fell into a good pace, it didn’t take long before I felt we were wasting time.

When my eyes became too bleary to read, I checked my phone. We’d been there for three hours. I groaned. “This isn’t working. Have you found anything?”

“Nothing.” Looking as frustrated as I felt, he scratched his smooth scalp. “If I had access to my computer, this would go a lot faster.”

“It’s too bad you can’t log in under someone else’s password.”

“Yes, it is . . .” Moving swiftly, he grabbed me and planted a hard kiss on my mouth.

“Isn’t this a bad time for playing?”

“You’re a genius. I’ll be right back.” He dashed out of the office. Confused, I listened as his footsteps echoed down the hall. The distant sound of a door shutting signaled he’d gone for the stairs.

At a loss what to do, I continued pulling employee files. But rather than focusing on random people, I went for employees who knew me. Julie. Stephanie. The human resources person, Terry Stimpson. I set those files aside and was about to look up my own and my brother’s, to see what was in them, when Kam returned, looking like he’d just solved world hunger.

“I knew she wrote down her passwords,” he announced proudly.

“Who?”

“Stephanie. She has a memory problem.”

“I guess that’s good for us.”

“It is.” He plopped down at the HR department’s desk and powered up the computer. “Did you find anything?”

“Not yet. I was just about to look up my own file, to see if anything was missing when you came back.”

“Good idea.” He was nervously tapping his fingernails on the desktop. “Dammit, this computer is slow. It’s time for an upgrade.”

“I’m sure Terry will be happy to have a new computer.”

“Hmmm,” he said. “Looks like she’s been doing more than work on this computer.”

“Oh?”

“I opened a web browser, and a bunch of online gambling sites popped open. She’s set them as her default pages.”

“Interesting.” My hands full of files, I looked over his shoulder. “Doesn’t that give her motive to steal from the company?”

“Only if she’s been losing.”

“Do you know anyone who wins at gambling?”

“No.” He tapped on some keys. “Do me a favor and pull her employee file.”

“I have it right here. I haven’t looked at it yet.” I handed it to him.

“Thanks.” He flipped it open.

I went back to the cabinet, leafing through the Bs. Bardon. Barello. Barkel. Baroni. No Barnes. “Our files are gone.”

“Whose?” Kam asked as he thumbed through the documents in Terry’s file.

“Mine and my brother’s. Do you think that’s significant?”

“The police probably asked for them.”

“Wouldn’t they make copies and leave the originals here?”

“I don’t know.”

A shiver zinged up my spine. “It’s kind of creepy, thinking someone might have my file. With it, they have access to everything they need to assume my identity. They could . . . open bank accounts and apply for credit cards, obtain loans . . .”

“Let’s hope it’s in the hands of someone who wouldn’t do such a thing,” he said, sounding distracted, as if he didn’t really know what he had just said. He sighed. “I’m not liking what I see here.”

“What is it?” Abandoning my search, I stepped up behind him.

“Before working for us, Terry Stimpson worked for Axis Tech. Odd coincidence that Axis is the company that just registered the patent for our process.”

“Do you think she’s the one, then? Is that enough to be suspicious?”

“It’s enough for me. Especially with the gambling.” He folded the entire file and tucked it into his jacket. He motioned to the computer screen as he hit the button to power it down. “We’d better get going.”

“Okay.” I jerked my head toward the papers in his jacket. “What are you going to do with that? Aren’t you taking a risk by borrowing it? What if she realizes it’s gone?”

“I’ll bring it back tomorrow night. I need some time to go over everything and make some copies,” he said as he led me toward the door. “Do you have the bag I gave you earlier?”

“I do.” I patted my pocket.

“Good.” He pulled open the door and motioned for me to head out first. “I think we might have found our woman. Now all we need to do is see if we can gather enough evidence so we’re not arrested the instant we try to turn it in.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Me too.”

 

Three hours later we were safe and sound in a seedy motel on the outskirts of town. We hadn’t wanted to go too far, since Kam wanted to do some more digging on our new suspect, but we hadn’t wanted to stay too close, where we might be picked up by the police. I tried calling my brother with my new phone, but he didn’t answer. I hated that we were going through this separated and we didn’t have each other for support like we always had.

My brother and me.

It didn’t help that Kam was completely focused on digging up dirt on Terry Stimpson—as, I admit, he should be. He was busy, leaving me to think. Still, I realized the sooner we had enough evidence gathered to prove she was a viable suspect, the sooner we would be dropped off the suspect list. I’d offered to help, but I’d been shooed away.

Thus, after failing to find something to distract myself, and also failing to reach my brother after several attempts, I’d resorted to pacing and imagining all sorts of horrible things.

Finally, when Kam had been at it for hours and I was at my wit’s end, I went to him and said to the side of his head, “Give me a job. Any job. I need to do something before I go out of my mind.”

He was sitting on the bed, head tipped down. Papers were scattered all over the butt-ugly bedspread. I couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. He didn’t respond, didn’t move.

“Kam? Is something wrong?”

He sighed. Hard. Loud. “I’ve got nothing.”

“But you said she worked for a competitor. And she had a gambling habit. That’s something.”

“It’s not enough.” He started stacking the papers. “The police aren’t going to arrest her because she plays online poker. I need more. I need real evidence that she was involved.”

“How are you going to get that?”

“I need to see what she’s been up to lately. I need to find out who she’s been talking to. I need to find out how she set up the Anguilla bank account. Someone helped her.” He shoved the papers into the file and raised his head. “I need to go to her house.”

Immediately my insides started twisting and turning. I’d hoped, prayed, he would find something that we could take to the police. Things weren’t going the way I’d hoped. Not at all.

I picked up the file and flipped it open. “You want to go to her house and what? Ask her about the bank account?” I knew, in my gut, that wasn’t what he intended. Why I’d asked such a stupid question, I couldn’t say. Maybe I hoped he wasn’t thinking what I knew he was.

“I’m going to have to break in. Check her records. Check her cell phone.”

Exactly what I’d feared. “That’s too risky.”

“I don’t know how else we can get the information we need.”

“I don’t like this idea.”

He tossed his hands up. “Give me an alternative, Abigail.”

I tried to come up with one. I couldn’t. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try to stop him. “We’re the innocent ones in this thing. If we start running around breaking the law, then we’ll end up looking even guiltier. I think you should try taking what you have to the police. We can call in an anonymous tip.”

“Hmmm.”

He hadn’t tossed my suggestion out yet. I took that as a good sign.

I continued, “We’ll tell the police our side, but do it anonymously. We can use the throwaway cell phone. It can’t hurt to try.”

“Fine. But I’m still going to watch her. If we don’t see the police following up on the tip within forty-eight hours, I’m going with my plan.” He motioned to me. “Better pack up, just in case. If they are able to trace the call, they’ll be on our doorstep in no time.”

“Okay.” I prayed the police would take our tip seriously as we gathered our things and headed out to the SUV. He handed his throwaway phone to me after we’d strapped ourselves into the vehicle. “Go ahead. Dial.” Then he stomped on the gas, and we zoomed out of the parking lot.

My hands shook as I made the call. And my heart raced as I waited for someone to pick up. It rang six times before I got an answer.

I almost hung up.

“Canton Public Safety, how may I help you?” someone finally said.

“I need to speak with a detective regarding the MalTech case.”

“Hold please.”

I glanced at Kam. He’d pulled into a convenience store parking lot. He was watching me with sharp eyes.

“Detective Norford.”

I cleared my throat. It was clogged. I felt like I was being strangled by an invisible rope. The stress of this situation was tearing me up inside. “Hello. I am an employee of MalTech. I wish to remain anonymous. But I have some information regarding the case. There is an individual named Terry—Teresa Stimpson. She is the manager of the Human Resources department. This individual has an online gambling habit and access to the personal information of all the employees in the company. I believe she may have used information gained from her position to open a bank account in another individual’s name, to hide the proceeds of some illegal acts committed recently.”

“What did you say your name was?” the detective asked.

“I didn’t. Please check it out.” Before I said something I regretted, I cut off the call. “Okay. It’s done. Now it’s up to the police.”

Kam extended a hand. “The phone.”

I gave it to him, and he got out of the car, strolled to the trash can in front of the store, and tossed it in. Minutes later we were zooming down the road.

“Where are we going now?” I asked, my heart still thumping in my chest.