Rich: Benson Security 5

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Rich: Benson Security 5 Page 23

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson


  “Harvard?” For a second, it looked like Charles’ head was about to explode.

  “Yes. Being former intelligence and currently employed by one of the most respected security companies in the world, he seemed the best man for the job. The fact that he’s practically family is an added bonus.”

  Harvard smiled politely as Charles and Preston frowned at him. Marcus just looked confused.

  “This is highly irregular,” Preston said. “Important positions within TayFor are only filled after a lengthy interview process and approval by the board.”

  “I haven’t given him a position,” Jonathan said. “I’ve merely asked him to help out until Terrance feels better.”

  “This is outrageous,” Charles snapped, spittle flying. “Do we even know anything about this man? In a very short time, he’s not only managed to worm his way into our company but also Rachel’s heart. I can’t be the only one who’s concerned about this. How do we know he isn’t a conman?”

  “Bloody hell, Charles,” Preston said. “He’s standing right there.”

  “I’m happy for you to check out my background and references,” Harvard said with a relaxed smile. “But you can do it after you hand over your phone to Ryan. There’s been a security breach. It will take a couple of hours to fix. In the meantime, the building’s vulnerable to hackers using cellular devices to access our systems. You’ll get your phone back as soon as we’ve secured the facility.” He inclined his head. “As an owner of the company, I’m sure you’re more than happy to ensure its continued security.”

  “Is that all this is?” Marcus reached into his pocket. “Here, take my phone. I’m going to grab a coffee before the board meeting starts.” As he walked past Charles, he said, “Stop being a prick and hand over your phone.” And then he pushed through the doors to the offices behind them.

  “Well, I never,” Charles snapped. “Has everyone around here lost all sense of decorum?”

  Preston put his phone on the desk. “Just give the man your phone.” He gave Harvard a sympathetic smile before following his brother.

  Charles slammed his phone onto the table and glared at them. “I will investigate you. Don’t think for one second that I won’t.” Then he stormed into the building.

  “Whoa,” Ryan said. “That dude does not like you. What did you do to him?”

  “I was born black,” Harvard said. “You got everybody’s phone now?”

  “Yep.” Ryan grinned and rubbed his palms together. “Let the games begin.” He took the tray of cell phones and headed down to security, where Elle and Harry would hack each one.

  “With any luck, we’ll have your thief within the hour,” Harvard said.

  Jonathan’s eyes turned dark. “Good. I could do with a target for venting my anger.”

  Couldn’t they all?

  The board room was bursting with family members. Every single one who had shares in the company had turned up—which wasn’t usually the case. Even Rachel’s grandmother and her Uncle Harold were there.

  “I’ve come to see what trouble you cause,” her grandmother had told Rachel after she sailed into the room, looking like Katharine Hepburn at a press junket for one of her movies, and took the chair beside her.

  “Why on earth would you assume I’d cause trouble?”

  “It’s in your genes, darling.” Her grandmother patted her hand. “Don’t worry, you came by it honestly. I caused quite the stir in my day too. Be a dear and fetch me a cup of tea. I need to take my medicine.” With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she held up an elaborately enameled flask.

  “Really? You’re going to spike your tea?”

  “If you’d been to as many of these board meetings as I have, you wouldn’t need to ask that.” Her eyebrows shot up. “What on earth? Does Theo think he’s playing tennis?”

  Rachel followed her gran’s gaze, and sure enough, Uncle Theo had arrived, decked out in white tennis garb, complete with shorts and a jaunty ribbed jersey draped around his shoulders.

  “Sorry about the getup,” he said. “Got a match straight after this and no time to change.”

  “That explains the clothes, but what about the aftershave?” her grandmother muttered to her. “Please open a window while you fetch me my tea.”

  With a resigned sigh, Rachel went to do her grandmother’s bidding.

  They’d set up the refreshments table on the wall nearest the door, which meant Rachel was easy access for anyone arriving who wanted to chat. Yay for her.

  “Rach!” Her cousin Rupert pulled her into an unwanted hug. “Did you know it’s possible to 3D print small batches of drugs? If we were to make our own specialized 3D printers and rent them out to hospitals, they’d have a steady supply, and we’d cut the cost and risks associated with large-scale manufacture. Not to mention, if we cut down the need for hospitals to buy and stockpile our drugs, we could look into building our own smaller, more efficient manufacturing plant in the UK, instead of outsourcing to larger, established plants that will only commit to a minimum order.”

  Rachel was impressed. “I’m sorry, who are you? And what have you done with my cousin?”

  He gave her an enthusiastic smile. “I never knew how interesting the family business was. The more I research, the more ideas I have. I didn’t know it was possible to be this engaged and excited about something that wasn’t a hand of poker. Look”—he pointed at himself—“I even bought a new suit so I’d look more professional and people might take my ideas seriously.” He sobered. “I have a lot of ideas, Rach. I really think there are ways we could streamline production. Not only to save us money but also to make distribution more user friendly.”

  “Well, come talk to me about it later in the week. I am head of special projects and seeing as I have no idea what that means, I guess it can be anything I like. Revamping distribution seems as good a thing to look at as anything else.”

  “Thanks, Rach, you’re the best.” He pulled her into a bear-hug before bouncing off to find a seat.

  “What was that about?” her grandmother asked when Rachel returned with her tea.

  “Turns out Rupert likes working, who knew?”

  “That boy.” Her grandmother tutted as she added a liberal dose of liquor to her cup. “All he needs is a bit of encouragement, and he’ll turn into a fine man. With Charles for a father, a mother who’s high as a kite most days, and a sister who only cares about herself, he could use someone believing in him. Be nice to him, darling. I get the feeling he could be a good man one day.”

  “Is that the sound of you softening?” Rachel said. “Because years ago, you told me that at the first sign of you softening, I was to put you in a home and forget about you. I’ve been on the lookout ever since.”

  “Wicked child. I’m sure I said no such thing. Oh look, it’s the wives Theo should have kept. His taste went straight downhill after those two.”

  Rachel turned to see Anne and Stephanie heading straight for them, smiling widely, their eyes warm with genuine affection.

  “Rachel.” Anne pulled her out of her seat and wrapped her in a hug. Which was exactly why she got on great with Rachel’s mother. They were both huggers. “I’m so glad you’re back. We need you here. And goodness, you look well, doesn’t she, Steph?”

  “Gorgeous as usual.” Stephanie hugged her too.

  Although roughly twenty years apart in age, the two women had formed a strange but strong friendship after Theo divorced them both. Anne’s marriage had lasted eighteen years, Stephanie’s only eight, but both of them had gained half of Theo’s shares when they split. Which meant they both owned a hefty chunk of TayFor.

  “Where’s that hunky man of yours?” Stephanie looked around the room. In her early forties, with shoulder-length brown hair and a chic sense of style, she was the last time Theo had shown any taste in women.

  Rachel waved a hand. “Off securing something.”

  “I see Theo’s on the prowl again,” Anne said, her eyes on their ex-husband. Having ju
st turned sixty, Anne had decided to let her hair go gray. Twisted up into a sophisticated French knot, her silver hair complemented her beautiful pastel blue shift dress perfectly.

  “How do you know?” Rachel asked, looking over at her tennis-garbed uncle, who was laughing raucously with Rupert.

  The two women shared a look then said together, “The smell.” Then they burst out laughing and went off to find seats.

  One by one, the rest of the family arrived. Charles, looking annoyed as usual. Preston and Marcus, both businesslike and clearly eager to get the meeting over. Samantha, who insisted on talking to Rachel about wedding dresses. And her mother, who kissed her cheek and took the seat on the other side of Rachel.

  “How’s Father?”

  “He’s perfectly fine, but he has to take it easy for a few days.” She gave Rachel a tight smile that emphasized the dark circles under her eyes. “I want to hire a keeper for him. Does Benson Security do that sort of thing? I need someone who’ll follow him around and ensure he keeps away from fried food.”

  Rachel swallowed her smile. “I’m sure we could find you someone.” Ryan had been particularly annoying lately. It might do him good to go on bacon-watch for a few weeks. That evil thought made her grin.

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “I forgot who I was talking to for a second. Forget I asked. I’ll speak with Harvard; he seems the more sensible option.”

  Rachel leaned into her and lowered her voice. “Are you doing okay, Mum?”

  “Yes, my darling, I’m fine.” Her eyes turned glassy and she blinked back tears, straightening her shoulders as she did so. “I keep telling myself that the past is gone; that there’s no point in wondering what we could have done differently. It’s the future that matters now and the choices we make from here on in.”

  “Exactly.” Rachel nodded. “Everything will be fine. I promise.”

  “My darling girl, you’re far too capable for your own good. But I do love you.”

  “Why does everyone feel the need to clarify their love for me?” Rachel said dryly. “It’s never just ‘I love you,’ it’s always ‘you’re awful, but I love you anyway.’”

  “Perhaps it’s because they’ve met you,” her grandmother said helpfully.

  “Okay.” Jonathan took a seat at the end of the table. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Rachel’s grandmother elbowed her and whispered, “I’ve run out of liquor.”

  “Too bloody bad,” Rachel whispered back. “You can suffer like the rest of us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Got it!” Elle’s fists shot into the air as she grinned at everyone. “We’ve got our thief!”

  The small gray-walled room they’d commandeered in the security department seemed to glow with her joy.

  “Damn it.” Harry shoved his laptop away from him in disgust. “I was about five seconds behind you on cracking that phone.”

  “Five seconds too late. Five seconds slower. Five seconds that get you second place. Who’s the best?” Elle held up a hand for a high five. “I’m the best. Admit it. I totally rock.”

  Harry gave her a lame high five.

  “Uh, Elle.” Ryan, who’d helpfully paced the room while the tech geniuses hacked the phones in the search for their thief, had obviously run out of what little patience he possessed. “You want to tell the rest of us who it is?”

  In reply, she beamed at them and flipped her laptop so they all could see her screen.

  Harvard’s jaw tightened. “Pack it up. We have a meeting to attend.”

  Ten minutes later, without knocking, Harvard led his team into the boardroom.

  “What on earth?” Charles shouted. “Have you no manners?” He pointed a finger at Jonathan. “This is exactly why you should never have put this man in charge of security without consulting the rest of us first.”

  Jonathan ignored him. “Did you find something?”

  “Yeah.” Harvard glanced around the room and caught Rachel’s eye. He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes at him, which almost made him grin and ruin his badass image. “How do you want this to go?”

  Running his hand through his hair, Jonathan looked at his family. “You can give your report to all of us at the same time.”

  “Jonathan,” Preston said, “what’s going on? What report?”

  It was Rachel who answered. “Harvard, Ryan, Elle, and myself—”

  “I’m a late addition,” Harry interrupted, giving everyone a wave and impressing no one with the printed image of bobblehead Einstein on his T-shirt.

  Rachel frowned at him before continuing, “We all work for Benson Security.”

  “You mean worked,” Marcus said, appearing confused.

  “No. I mean, we’re still currently there. I’m still a partner. These are still my minions.” She waved a hand in their direction, making Harvard grin. “Jonathan and our father hired Benson Security to uncover who’s been stealing research from TayFor for the past few years.”

  Charles shot to his feet. “This is out of order. Something of this magnitude should have gone through the board first.”

  “Not if it’s a board member who’s stealing from you,” Harvard said.

  “Do sit down and shut up, Charles,” Francesca told him. “We have more than enough to deal with without adding your tantrums to the mix.”

  “Well, I never.” He sat down with a thud.

  “I’m assuming you’ve uncovered the thief,” Jonathan said.

  “Elle?” Harvard indicated that she had the room. “Please do the honors.”

  Elle practically danced on the spot, making the blue bunches in her hair bounce along with her. “Okay, so we knew secrets were being siphoned off, so we set out to—”

  Rachel held up a hand. “We don’t need the Columbo version. We just need a name, and then the police can take over.” She looked at Harvard. “You did call them?”

  “No, I thought we’d just take the culprit down to the basement and put a bullet in their head.” Of course, he’d called the police.

  “I’m not staying here for this.” Charles got to his feet again. “How do you expect us to believe a word you say when you can’t even take yourselves seriously? I’ll call in the police myself. If there’s a thief, they can deal with it.”

  “Oh, there’s a thief,” Elle said. “And if I can’t describe our process, then I’ll just go for the big reveal. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you your thief”—she stretched out an arm, sweeping it left to right before stopping on one person—“Preston Talbot.”

  There was silence until Rachel’s grandmother spoke up. “Well, that was a bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?”

  Harvard definitely had a soft spot for that woman.

  Preston looked around the room. “You don’t honestly believe them, do you?”

  His mother, Anne, leaned forward, placing her hand on the table as though reaching for him. “Preston? Why would they think you stole from us?”

  Pure fury flashed in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly. “This is clearly a mistake. I haven’t stolen anything. I’m sure my lawyer will deal with whatever information they have within minutes.”

  “We have your phone,” Harvard said. “It has two apps on it. One connects to a signal jammer on the camera facing West Building. The app shows it was last accessed on the morning that the system went down, when everyone was told not to access the servers.

  “And the other app connects wirelessly with the card reader that was hidden under Francesca’s work desk and is linked to her computer. On top of that, now that we know who’s behind this, we also know where to look for the money. Because money always leaves a trail.”

  Harry nodded from where he stood beside the door. “I’m running searches right now on your financials and any accounts set up in your name or your children’s names.”

  “And I’m looking into your purchasing history,” Ryan said. “If there’s a record of you buying a Wi-Fi card reader and a signal jammer, I
’ll find it.”

  “And even though I did my bit by hacking your phone,” Elle said, “I’m going through your contacts to see if I can find the people who bought your information. I’m sure I’ll find them eventually. It’s like finding a loose piece of wool in a sweater. Once you have it, all you need to do is tug to make the whole thing unravel.”

  “This is what we do,” Rachel told her cousin. “And we’re rather good at it.”

  “None of your so-called evidence would stand up in court.” Preston loosened his tie and shifted in his seat. “A phone is a private device, and you certainly didn’t have my permission to hack mine.”

  Anne gasped. “You aren’t denying what they found on it? Just questioning their right to go looking for it?”

  “And you’re wrong anyway,” Rachel said. “Everyone signed a disclosure agreement years ago that allows the company to search personal devices at their discretion. As long as they were in the building at the time and were used for work. We all know you make work calls on your phone; we’ve watched you. Which means TayFor was well within their rights to crack open your phone and peer inside.”

  “TayFor,” Charles snapped. “Not Benson Security. Not him.” He pointed at Harvard. “He has no right being here. None.” He sneered at Rachel. “No one can stop you from making a foolish decision about whom you marry, but we can definitely stop management from putting him in a position of trust. I mean, what do we know about this man? How do we know he can be trusted? For all we know, he might be planting clues to dismantle the board and install himself. He’s probably after Rachel’s money and the company. Bloody gold digger.”

  “Charles!” Francesca shot to her feet. “I will not tolerate you speaking to Rachel like that.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t.” Charles gave her a look of disgust. “You made the same mistake with your choice of husbands. My father and his brothers started this company. It should have remained with them. It should still be called Talbot Pharmaceuticals, not TayFor. Roger Ford didn’t start this business, he just wormed his way into it, exactly the same way this boy is doing.”

 

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