Greed: Goddess of Delphi (Goddesses of Delphi Book 3)

by Gemma Brocato

  While she navigated through her program, Ian scrubbed his hand over his mouth, hiding a smile. She most surely would tell him what he needed to find out. This gift was awesome.

  He spent the next three minutes picking Shirley’s brain about what certain figures meant on his budget. Next, he shifted to probing questions about how to locate the exact information he needed in the balance sheets he’d be looking at. Shirley smiled vacantly at him when she handed him paper and pen to take notes. He committed as much to memory as possible, but he wrote the paths down for easy reference later when he went fishing through the computer system to find the evidence that would help them stop Argran in its tracks.

  “Thanks, Shirley. You can close those files now,” he instructed when he’d garnered as much information as he thought necessary. Again, he visualized closing the door in the woman’s mind, breaking the nudge off so no one could come in behind him and obtain clues as to what knowledge he sought. Kind of like a mental paper trail. “I’ll let you get back to work now. You’ve been very helpful.”

  Shirley tipped her head to the side, as if confused. “Any time, Ian. I’m always around to help.” She smiled brightly. “A group of us walk the trail through the grounds every day at lunch. You welcome to join us if you want extra steps.”

  Ian shook his head at the random invitation. Wait, his cover was that he was there for the exercise. He cast about for an answer. “Can’t today. Have lots on my plate and I’m short staffed. But I’ll look for you tomorrow.”

  As he moved through accounting’s secured door, he concentrated on folding his notes and didn’t see anyone approaching until he slammed into another body.

  Patricia Cronin bounced away from him with a surprised gasp.

  “So sorry. I didn’t see you there.” He folded the paper in half once more and shoved it into his pocket. Out of her sight.

  Two vertical lines creased the skin between her brows. “It’s unusual to see you outside your lab, Dr. Sommers. What brings you to accounting?”

  After two weeks she knew it wasn’t part of his routine to leave his lab? “Just had some budget questions for Shirley”

  “You could have emailed.”

  “I needed the exercise.”

  “I see.”

  The two little words escalated his heartbeat and started an avalanche of nerves within. It was as if the woman knew his true purpose. “I…uh, I’d better get back to my lab. Been gone too long already.” She stopped him from moving away by laying a hand on his bicep. Cold seeped from her palm into his body.

  “Are you making progress on perfecting the formula for the sanitation project?”

  “The chemical alternative? Yes. Just this morning we blended the chemicals with the bonding agent.” And he bitched and moaned under his breath the entire time his techs had worked on the process. “It’s still the wrong thing to do. The organic solution I proposed is a better option.”

  “We will not be going the organic route, Dr. Sommers. It isn’t in the budget.” Cronin shot him a tightlipped glare.

  He wasn’t touching that. Of course the option to fix the problem the right way, but without the massive profits, that course wouldn’t be viable. It was a brand new day at Eos. A new and suckier way of doing things. He narrowed his eyes at the woman, debating whether he should try to nudge her for information. But if she were an immortal, like Polly, she’d know what he was doing.

  He glanced at the clock on the wall above accounting’s door. “Oops, need to get back to my office. One of my techs has an appointment off property and I’m designated coverage in the lab.” Most likely, the tech had an interview for another job. No one in his department was happy with the chemical option being forced on them.

  He nodded as he stepped around her. She pivoted to watch his progress.

  As he moved down the hall, a spot between his shoulder blades burned. Like her gaze was burrowing into him, searing away his attempts to keep his pace at a sedate rate. His heart thrummed hard in his chest, making it difficult to catch his breath. Rounding a corner, he hurried to the relative safety of his lab.

  Cronin couldn’t know what he was doing, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d somehow aroused her suspicion. Fear iced his body as he considered the possibility that Cronin was out for blood, most likely his.

  The tech had already left by the time Ian cleared the security entrance to the lab, so he pitched in to help the remaining three employees set up the trial. The team worked in silence, except for calling instructions to the tech transcribing their actions, noting time, amounts and reactions in the computer program Ian and Dan had built for the study. Pushing away his worries, and his ire at being forced to implement a potentially deadly option, Ian lost himself in the mundane routine of measure, note, revise, measure again.

  A little after noon, Ian ducked into his tiny office inside the lab. Once he’d shut the door, he slanted the blinds closed enough to give him some privacy, but still afford some visibility of the lab floor. His three employees had seized his offer for them to go to lunch together while he remained to staff the fort. The lab was essentially deserted. He had the place to himself, but he’d know the minute anyone walked in.

  His stomach churned as he opened the laptop on the desk. After Polly had left his house this morning, Mars had dropped in to deliver a laptop cloned to look exactly like his Eos-issued device. The god had hovered six inches above the floor, his feet lost in the mist that didn’t completely clear, as he’d explained the IP address on the computer would read as his whenever he logged into the Eos system. But it had been finessed to not leave a signature where he shouldn’t be. The original device was now hidden in back of his closet at home, while he’d brought the new machine to work with him.

  With one last furtive glance at the empty lab, Ian logged on to the Eos mainframe and began poking his nose where it shouldn’t be. His hand shook when he clicked the icon for the administrative drive, and then clicked again on the HR link.

  “Okay,” he muttered to himself. “The set-up is logical, I should be able to find records for Cronin.”

  Heart galloping, he paused before opening the pertinent set of files. Once he did this, he would be doing something highly unethical, and most likely, illegal. Guilt rose, and he shoved it away as Polly’s face swam through his memory, her features drawn and worried. His finger hovered over the track pad, and he reminded himself he was doing this to help a friend. No, more than a friend. She was the one woman who could make him happy for the rest of his life.

  Shaking his head, he tapped the pad and began. He navigated through the drive until he found the employee roster he sought.

  “Great, it’s organized alphabetically.” He’d worried employee numbers would be listed first which would have made finding Cronin a hell of a lot more difficult. Scanning the file list he ran the mouse pointer down the column, reciting the names as he went. “Crockett, Cromwell, Crosby. What the…”

  Cronin’s name wasn’t on the list. She’d worked for Eos long enough that she should be in the system. Hell, he remembered being told on his first day that he’d been added to the records as soon as HR had received his signed offer letter.

  Ian slumped in the chair…shoulders hunched, and chewed his lower lip as he thought. The woman had to be in the system. Unless she was an Argran employee. That could explain why she wasn’t listed in the Eos roster.

  Jumping back to the original drive, he studied the file list again. He wasn’t exactly sure if there’d be a listing of individuals on loan from the new parent company. It didn’t help that Patricia Cronin was the only new employee he could remember seeing.

  He spied a file labeled Contract Employees. As he clicked he mumbled, “This is where I’d yell Eureka! Except…damn, not there either.” Drumming his fingers lightly on the keyboard, he stared through the partially closed blinds. “Now what?”

  The keys clicked under his fingers as he thought. He decided to abandon the search for Cronin’s records and chase t
he financials.

  He returned to the root drive, looking for the accounting section. Dragging out the paper he’d folded and shoved into his pocket, he fumbled with the corners. He opened the slip, and flattened it on the desk. Drawing a deep breath, praying that Mars was right and his activity couldn’t be tracked, Ian typed the path he’d copied into the search bar.

  It took him directly to the file he wanted, but the file was locked. Opening the center drawer of his desk, he retrieved his wallet, and the scrap of paper on which he’d scribbled the override password Mars’s security guys had provided.

  He squinted and stared at the screen as he typed in w@rbr1ng3r. It seemed the Olympus security boys had a sense of humor. The screen blanked then automatically populated with the color-coded spreadsheet he sought. “And boom! I’m in.”

  As he studied the sheet, cold dread rattled in his chest. The report didn’t add up the way he’d thought they should. He flipped from one file to another. The numbers in the debit columns were too high for the credit side. To him, it looked like Argran had already begun stripping wealth from the Eos bottom line. But he wasn’t an accountant. Maybe it would make sense to Sybil.

  He closed his eyes and imagined making a call on a cell phone, except instead of visualizing a number, he thought of Sybil’s face. “Are you there? I need some help.”

  “What’s up, big guy?” Sybil’s low voice echoed in his head.

  “I’m looking at Eos’s financials and I don’t completely understand. There appears to be more outflow than income at the moment.”

  “Is the system a daily update or weekly?”

  Ian rubbed his eyes. “Don’t know.”

  Sybil’s sigh bounced around in his head. “I’m coming in. Is the coast clear?”

  “Give me fifteen seconds to close the blinds.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Ian jumped from his chair and then shut out the rest of the lab, taking the extra precaution to lock his door. Before he got back around his desk, his chest ached from the now-familiar pressure that announced an immortal was about to pop in. The air concussed around him as Sybil materialized next to the desk.

  She smiled as she lowered the last few inches to the floor. “If you’re lucky, when this is all over, Zeus will grant you the ability to travel through the Hollow. It’s a great way to get places fast. Although cars are pretty great too. I still remember traveling by horse and buggy. Let’s look at what you’ve got.”

  Ian motioned her into the chair in front of the laptop. “Keep in mind I’m not an accountant, but this looks wrong to me.” He pointed to the column of numbers marching down the screen.

  Sybil hummed as she studied the document. The fingers of one hand moved on the desk, as if she used a supernatural calculator. She worked the track pad with her other hand, moving swiftly through the financial statement. Ian had seen other accountants do the same thing, but not with the light-bending speed Sybil worked at.

  After a moment, she clenched her fist and banged on the desk. “Just like we thought. It looks like the ink on the agreement wasn’t even dry when Argran started syphoning off profits.”

  “So they are planning to break the company up.” That could mean thousands of people losing their jobs in this country and in smaller nations where Eos had manufacturing facilities. Countries that could ill-afford it were destined to suffer mass unemployment.

  “Can’t tell from this. But I’d guess yes.” Sybil rubbed the back of her neck. “Stand by, I need to talk to Zeus and Mars.”

  Ian expected her to pick up a phone, but wasn’t terribly surprised when she looked at the ceiling and squeezed her eyes closed. After all, these beings could move from one part of the world to another in seconds. Her lips moved silently for a moment, and then stopped. Someone must have been responding.

  She opened her eyes. “Got a flash drive?” she asked.

  Ian scoffed. “What, you can’t just magick the files to Olympus?”

  “Dude, don’t be dumb. It doesn’t work that way.” She held her hand out.

  Opening the left side drawer, he rummaged through the contents until he found the tiny device. “They won’t be able to note that you’ve downloaded the file, right?”

  Sybil laughed and waved her hands above the keyboard. “Nope, this beast is magical and mythical. Normal IT people will never notice. It would take a supernatural forensic examiner to detect unauthorized action.” She accepted the stick he handed her. She was still laughing as she pushed it home in the slot.

  Three swipes on the track pad later, she’d saved the files she wanted. Standing over her shoulder, Ian studied the progress bar. It wasn’t moving at paranormal speed. He checked the time. His techs would be back shortly.

  “We’ve got to wrap this up.”

  The sliding indicator finally reached one-hundred percent. As Sybil moved through the motions to eject the drive, an alert beeped on from the small box next to his door. Someone had just entered the main lab.

  Ian froze. Too soon to be his staff. It had to be someone else with enough clearance to get past the locked entry. It would be tough to explain how Sybil got inside without having registered at the front desk or been accompanied by a security escort to his lab.

  Sybil stared at the door. “You forget about an appointment?” She jerked the drive from the USB port, and stood.

  “No,” he whispered. “You’d better go.” He slid into the chair behind her and started shutting down the windows open on the laptop.

  “I’ll be in touch.” Rich blue mist engulfed Sybil as she moved into the hollow. One second she stood next to him, the next, she’d completely vanished. She’d evaporated so quickly, his heart squeezed in his chest and he felt tugged toward the spot where she’d been standing.

  The doorknob rattled. Cronin’s voice carried through the portal. “Dr. Sommers, are you in there?”

  Chapter 16

  The knob rattled as Cronin tried again to enter. Even with the door closed, her exasperated snarl was audible. Thank goodness the lock was still old-school. Only Ian and the Facilities Manager had a key.

  Ian made as much noise as possible when he stood. Clomping his feet hard on the linoleum floor, he made his way to the door.

  “Sorry,” he said when he opened it. “Must have forgotten to unlock it when I came back from Accounting.”

  Cronin studied him through slitted eyes. Were her pupils elongated? Her lips pursed so hard they all but disappeared from her face. “Dr. Sommers, Mr. Peltier would like a progress report from you by three this afternoon.”

  Feeling reckless, Ian tossed her earlier words back at her. “You could have emailed.”

  “Hmm, perhaps I needed the exercise.” She smirked and motioned for him to move. “Now, about that report…”

  “Impossible.” Ian reluctantly moved to the side, allowing the viper into his office. If Polly’s nemesis was a bird, it appeared Ian’s was going to be a goddamn snake. “We’ve only begun the formulating phase. There is nothing to report.”

  The bitch swept past him and made a beeline for the bookcase right behind his desk. If she turned, she’d have a clear view of his computer screen. Thank God, he’d closed any incriminating windows or documents.

  She trailed a fingertip along the spines of the experiment logs on the shelf. “Surely there is something you can tell him.” The gesture was obscenely coquettish.

  Tension gripped his shoulders, stirring ripples of discomfort that slithered from his stomach toward his throat. Crushing his jitters, Ian went on the attack. “I can tell him this idea, this option, is screwed up. People could die. Especially if he rushes my experiments and we get it wrong.”

  Cronin twisted to face him, her eyes dipping toward the desk. Her expression hardened. “You really aren’t in a position to impede progress, Dr. Sommers.”

  Shit! He’d left his notes with the accounting drive paths lying next to the laptop, clearly visible. His feet dragged as if blocks of cement encased them as he moved around the desk
, picking up a lab notebook and opening it over the scrap of paper to obscure her view. “I’m not attempting to undermine Scott’s directive, just hoping to get him to see reason. The solution I proposed makes more sense and will be less harmful to the environment. Safer for the people living in the region.”

  She crossed her arms and lifted one brow. “And significantly less healthy for Argran’s bottom line.” She let her gaze linger on the pad he’d laid half on the keyboard and fully over his note. “You will sign off on the new formula today, or you will be recused from the project and a more…suitable scientist will replace you. Am I clear?” She lifted her gaze and stared at him.

  By suitable she meant more easily manipulated. Jesus, God! Did her eyes just flicker demonic red? Ian sucked in a deep breath. “I do not think you are in a position to let me go, Ms. Cronin.”

  “Oh, Dr. Sommers. You have no idea of what position I’m in. Consider yourself warned.” She dusted her hands together. “Have the report ready by three. You may send it via email. Just be sure to copy me.”

  Her heels barely whispered on the floor as she glided toward the exit. Pausing in the doorway, she cast one last glance over her shoulder at his computer then smirked again as she departed.

  Ian dropped onto his chair and buried his face in his hands. Sure as shit, the bitch knew what he’d been up to. He had no doubt she had his number and his time as a valued Eos employee was at an end.

  Funny, the bleakness of his future with the corporation didn’t bother him even a little.

  Chapter 17

  Glare from the setting sun behind her made it difficult for Polly to see the interior of the Rowan. She was there to meet Ian. Clio and Jax were joining them as well. As usual, Polly was running fifteen minutes behind after filing her last story for the ten o’clock broadcast.

  Her eyes adjusted and she noticed Clio waving from a booth near the back of the restaurant. Threading her way through the tables, she waved at the regular bartender and then tipped her hand toward her mouth. He knew what kind of wine she ordered every time she was there. Being predictable had its perks. She was certain he’d have the glass poured and on its way to her shortly.