Executive Dirt: A Sedona O'Hala Mystery

by Maria Schneider

  “Don’t worry, I know how to snag from the spots where it won’t be noticed,” I explained to Roscoe. “I’ve made these trays before.”

  Roscoe spun around to face Monique. “You’re supposed to manage Sedona. You tell her. We all know what happens when the venture capitalists back out. I’m not a big enough fool to hang around like I did at my last job.”

  The cheese froze on its way to my lips. “Your last job? Where did you work?”

  “Hardly matters now, does it? If a startup doesn’t get funding, it dies.” He turned to the chef. “And people like you don’t get paid. So I suggest you cook up something, full kitchen or no.”

  Oh, that set off the woodchuck. “Not get paid?” He lost his stage whisper and any pretense of professionalism. Monique’s shushing and reassurances did nothing to halt his performance either. He untied his apron, hissed out threats about lawyers and, “I’d better see the second half of my payment.”

  I kept up a continuous scan for any sign of a Borgot phone on his person or one being added to one of his food boxes. That last phone with the code hadn’t made it to its final destination. Maybe Woodchuck here was the next train ticket. “What was on the menu?” I asked, helping myself to more cheese. It was very good cheese.

  “Sedona, will you stop eating all the food?” Before I could protest the “all the food” comment, Monique ruined her own order by filching a sausage stick from the meat tray. She came from a marketing background. If anyone complained about missing food, she’d blame me. “Listen, Saul.” When he sputtered, she corrected herself. “Chef Saul. We can get you anything you need, but there was nothing on the menu that had to be served hot.”

  With a final hand fling, he finally loosed himself from his apron. If the phone was in one of the pockets, he wasn’t leaving with it because he tossed the huge white sheet down and stomped on it.

  “John expects snacks throughout,” Kay put in. “What exactly do you intend to serve that requires a full kitchen?” She tapped frantically on her tablet.

  “A full kitchen. It’s in the contract. No kitchen, no food.” With that announcement, he sailed off down the hall to the elevators.

  Kay scrolled here and there on the tablet. “I ordered salads, snacks and finger sandwiches.” More scrolling, during which time I inspected the contents of the nearest box. “Damn. There is a clause in the contract about a full kitchen.”

  “We have crackers, and if we put the M&Ms in a bowl, we can keep food flowing,” Monique said.

  The box in front of me was full of avocados and a dry mix that smelled and looked like one that could be turned into spinach dip. “Looks like he planned guacamole? And some other dips.” I scanned another box. “These are cookie trays with dough already shaped out. The dough is plain...so he probably has frosting around here somewhere. Cute. I think they are meant to be phones.” I grabbed one of the trays, marveling at the rack arrangements all stacked neatly in a box. It was easy to slide a few cookies off onto tinfoil and pop them into the toaster oven. “At six at a time, we can get enough of these done in a half hour to make it look good. Someone find the icing. It will be in one of those cake decorating bags, probably.”

  No one moved. Monique stared at me. Roscoe blinked. Kay finally reached for a box. “He was supposed to take various items into the meeting room in shifts, like a nine-course meal over the day. At least that’s the way the brochure described it.”

  “It’s early for cookies,” Roscoe said. “Shouldn’t you save those for the afternoon? We gotta keep these guys happy.”

  “Geez, how long are the investors hanging around?” I’d figured Huntington could ask his forty questions and be out of here in an hour.

  Roscoe snorted at me again. “We’re presenting, Sedona. This is an opportunity to sell ourselves so that we don’t go down the drain!”

  I grabbed an avocado and began peeling it. From the items in the box, this guacamole was going to be thinned with cream cheese. “Like your last company, right?”

  “It wasn’t my fault! My code was perfect. Borgot knew what it was doing when it picked the cream of the crop to come work here.”

  “I’m sure. Do you know anything about homebrewing beer?” I asked innocently. Maybe he knew Rohit. Maybe I could somehow get him to admit it.

  His eyes widened. “You’re going to brew beer for these guys?” He gazed down the hall towards the meeting room. “I never thought of that. Maybe that would be a good idea.”

  I didn’t know much about beer brewing, but I was fairly certain it didn’t happen in one morning. His line of thinking was not even close to mine. “No, I’m looking into beer and wine making, but beer brewing is cheaper.”

  Roscoe blinked at me. His bushy eyebrows came together while he tried to process my comment.

  The first batch of cookies was done, so I removed the tray and tinfoil and started another tray. I inspected a few more boxes. There were several loaves of fresh bread, cucumbers and a giant jar of mayonnaise. “Hmm. Can we just put the mayo in a small bowl, slice the bread and let the investors make their own sandwiches from the meat tray?”

  Before Roscoe could sputter out a complaint, I added, “No one really wants to eat cucumber sandwiches, Roscoe. Sure, they look nice on the platter, but I don’t see any actual lunch here. The meat tray could easily be made into sandwiches. Or was a full lunch planned?”

  Kay shook her head, her tablet still in her hand. “He was supposed to supply a light lunch, but he didn’t specify exactly what that would be.”

  “Okay, let’s go with toasted bagels, cream cheese and that fruit tray for breakfast.” Instead of full bagels, there were pieces. “I’ll toast the bagel wedges as soon as these cookies come out. The cheese and crackers can go with lunch.”

  Monique joined me in saying, “If I don’t eat it all first.” We grinned at each other. “It’s good cheese,” I told her.

  Roscoe complained when I suggested that he and the other engineers would have to help serve, but I ignored him. It would be hard for me to serve with a straight face knowing Huntington was there to investigate, not drop millions. He probably had the money to invest, but only an idiot would put money into a company whose phones had just been used in robberies and kidnappings. And that wasn’t even counting the stolen code and murders. Yeah, we had it all at Borgot. I wouldn’t ruin Roscoe’s day by telling him, but we’d have a lot better luck if a mafia boss came along to buy us out. Only someone with a criminal background would be interested in us now.

  When it was Kovid’s turn to cater in trays, I asked him where he used to work. “Clockworks, why?”

  “I just wondered. Roscoe said something about Borgot having mined the best of the best.”

  Kovid nodded. “Yeah, we were both at Clockworks. Borgot was already up and running when we lost our investment backing. John and Cary were right there with job offers. There were a few other guys I wished they had hired before the hiring freeze.”

  I already knew that Lawrence had worked there, so I asked about some of the others instead. “Did Monique work there?”

  “No. I saw her once or twice, but that was because she was dating Lawrence. Then when he got on here, she was hired shortly after.”

  We shared a knowing glance. “I wonder why Lawrence didn’t just hire her at Clockworks too.”

  “Hiring had been shut down for a solid year over there. He couldn’t have hired his own brother if he had wanted.”

  “I guess Cary and Joe must have worked there too.”

  “No. Cary did and he was already here when I was hired. Joe came after that. He wasn’t at Clockworks. Are you going to give me that tray or take it in yourself?”

  I handed him the tray. “I have to finish preparing the cookies.” The cookies were all baked, but there were some that still needed icing.

  It didn’t take me long to finish them. Just for grins, I took the platter in myself. Huntington probably wouldn’t be surprised to see me, but it might throw him off his game a little if h
e had to pretend not to know me.

  When I entered the meeting room, the surprise was all mine. Huntington was there, businessman cool as usual, and sitting next to him, almost as calm and collected was Clint Lewis, the ex-marine ballet teacher.

  Chapter 35

  Mark and I met at Happy Family Chinese to compare notes. I ordered egg rolls even though I’d eaten plenty of food samples while prepping snacks for the investor’s meeting. First things first. I told him about the multiple employees who had come from Clockworks. “Half of Borgot knew about the possibility of a smartwatch because they worked there. Any of them could have decided to supply the Borgot code so that Rohit could still bring a watch to market. If Rohit failed, whoever controlled the code would still have a job. Borgot would still have a product, albeit not as good as the one sold to Rohit.”

  He nodded. “Rohit, through his lawyer, supplied a list of employees and the final financials for Clockworks. I went through them today.”

  I didn’t ask how he obtained that list. “Was Clint Lewis on the list of previous employees?”

  “The karate guy?”

  “Ballet, karate, whatever. Yes, him.”

  “No, why?”

  “He was there today at the meeting. He was also at Joe Black’s funeral.”

  Mark’s eyes narrowed. “He walked into an investment meeting at Borgot after teaching ballet and delivering the wrong phone to Clockworks?”

  “He didn’t look the same, believe me. He had shaved his head completely, but grew in a nicely trimmed beard and mustache. There was a huge diamond earring in one ear as if he wanted everyone to notice he had money to throw at a project. He also wore funky rose-tinted glasses. They weren’t sunglasses, but they looked like those kind that darken outside and never get completely light when you’re inside. If we hadn’t talked to him at his dojo face-to-face, I might not have recognized him as the ballet teacher. You take away the tights, add facial hair and put him in a suit, and he looked nothing like the guy prancing around our break area last week.”

  “Hmm.”

  I told him about Lawrence having a patent. “Most patent lawyers have to learn at least enough code to read and understand it; some of them probably start out as programmers or get pretty good at it. His fingerprints are all over this case. He could be programming the languages on the side. And maybe Clint wasn’t so innocent when it came to the phone delivery. Maybe Lawrence hired both him and Cary so that he could stay in the background and look innocent.”

  “You think he also hired Joe?”

  I shrugged. “It’s more likely Cary hired him to do the deliveries because he thought such work was beneath him.”

  “But Cary ended up dead in your garden. You think Lawrence murdered both of them?”

  I swallowed hard. My egg roll was not taking the edge off this conversation. “Lawrence is taller than either of them. He’s in decent shape. We all worked together so suggesting a private conversation, one that lured someone to his death, wouldn’t be impossible.”

  Mark nodded. “A woman didn’t drag Joe into the bathroom or Cary into your garden.”

  I agreed. “Monique probably has access to Lawrence’s email, and even though I think she’d stoop pretty low to get ahead, she couldn’t have murdered either Joe or Cary on her own.”

  “She and Lawrence together?”

  “It’s possible. She was dating Lawrence when he was at Clockworks and got hired on with Borgot after he landed the job there. She could be the brains behind the operation.” I shook my head. “I doubt it, though.”

  Mark smiled. “You’re not dismissing your own sex, are you? Maybe she is smart enough.”

  I had overlooked a guilty woman before, but it wasn’t because I was sexist. “She wears the words ‘Doll Baby’ on the back of her pants!”

  He raised an eyebrow and laughed.

  “Okay, it’s possible she uses her sex as a distraction. It’s possible she’s smarter than she appears. But when would she have time to code languages? She’s on the phone all day!”

  “I’ll look into her background anyway, just in case.”

  “Okay. And I’ll make sure none of these people get behind me where I can’t see them.”

  Mark sighed. “Good idea. And start looking for another job.”

  I nodded. That was another very good idea.

  Chapter 36

  I wasn’t entirely surprised to see Huntington’s Viper in the lot again on Friday morning. The venture capitalist meetings were supposedly over, but he could easily have set up a private meeting.

  Trying not to be obvious about it, I scanned the parking lot for a motorcycle. There was no specific reason for Mark to be here, not really, but someone who worked inside this building was up to their neck in theft and murder.

  The lack of a motorcycle in the lot didn’t settle my nerves.

  Once upstairs, I checked my email first just in case there was a notice about another venture capitalist meeting. There wasn’t anything on the schedule for the wealthy donors, but there was a meeting for the rest of us tomorrow. Lawrence wanted everyone to attend a special seven a.m. Saturday meeting to discuss patents and what it would take to be named on one.

  “As if.” Since I didn’t care about patents, I would definitely miss it.

  I left my backpack in my cube, but kept my car keys and phone in my pocket. I considered carrying the backpack with me, but it would be too noticeable while I nosed around checking up on Huntington. If he was after additional information, the most logical place for him to be would be with the CEO, but Kay, our admin, informed me the boss was out for the day.

  Two of the meeting rooms were in use. Barging in wasn’t really an option.

  I wandered through the maze, checking the cubicles, but Huntington wasn’t likely to be digging into Borgot’s financial health out in the open. There were no cookies or snacks left from yesterday’s meeting so I couldn’t pretend to drop by the meeting rooms with leftovers.

  “Screw it.” I grabbed a notepad and headed to the meeting rooms. I opened the door with my head down as though reading notes and then stopped quickly as soon as I had a foot inside.

  The room was quiet, and to my surprise Howard was its only occupant. Before I could excuse myself, he started talking. “That’s why you make the big bucks. Figure it out and make sure it’s unique enough to patent.” He reached around his laptop and hit the mute button on the teleconference phone before addressing me. “Don’t tell me you are here to bug me about a patent because you won the contest for naming the phone assistant!”

  I stopped in the process of stepping back. “What? No. Wrong meeting.” I stepped away and pulled the door after me, but didn’t close it fast enough.

  “Well, your idea isn’t good enough,” he called after me. “Save your questions for tomorrow.”

  I slammed the door closed. Him and his stupid patents. I had completely forgotten the naming contest even though I had suggested the owner of the phones should be able to name the personal assistant voice themselves. Maybe I should have checked all my emails before looking for Huntington.

  Before I could barge into the second meeting room, I noticed Lawrence glide into the elevator. Now that was interesting. He was our prime suspect, and he wasn’t in the meeting with Huntington. And neither was John, the CEO.

  Had Huntington’s plan gone awry? Was he sitting in one of these rooms wasting time with innocent bystanders while Lawrence went about his nefarious business?

  I hit the stairwell, knowing I could make it to the first floor before the elevator arrived. I really should have kept my pack. Maybe I should just start leaving it in the car.

  If Lawrence was sneaking off to code languages, did that mean he had another buyer lined up? Rohit had been arrested and while it hadn’t made the news, surely Lawrence would figure it out if he hadn’t already.

  I peeked through the small glass window on the stairwell door.

  When Larry exited through the front door, I slid out of the s
tairwell and then waited at the front door until he hopped inside a yellow sports coupe.

  There was no need to follow him. If he went somewhere to code, I’d only know his hideout, and it was likely his own home. If he met with someone, I’d have no way of knowing if they were new buyers of the code or just more hoods he happened to know.

  Just as I retreated, Huntington’s Viper edged out of its parking spot. He had to wait for two cars, but he turned in the same direction as Lawrence’s yellow car.

  Now how did Huntington think he could follow Lawrence discreetly in the Viper? If Lawrence was into cars at all, and from the looks of the yellow roadster it was probable, Lawrence would notice something as spiffy as the Viper tailing behind him.

  I rolled my eyes, my speech for Huntington half formed when I noticed a black car pull out. The windows were not tinted.

  Clint Lewis shot out onto the road even faster than Huntington and headed in the same direction.

  I ran into the parking lot and jumped into my own car. I wasn’t sure I’d gotten enough of a look at Clint’s car to spot it outright again, but Huntington’s Viper was an easy target. If I could glimpse that, I’d be able to follow without a problem.

  A tiny Ford Fusion slammed on its brakes when I pulled out of the parking lot, but it was an overreaction. I had plenty of time to speed off ahead of it.

  I took to the road like a professional racer, zipping into the far lane and gunning it. Driving Huntington’s Porsche had spoiled me. The SUV, Mercedes or not, did not have the takeoff of his latest car. Maybe he had to drive the Viper because Detective Saunders hadn’t released his Porsche yet.

  I smiled an evil grin, not feeling the least bit sorry for Huntington. My glee was followed by a moment of panic before I finally caught sight of the Viper. The black car was still tailing behind it. Our entourage drove rapidly, but not overly so.

  We took two turns before I was sure. If I had to bet money, we were headed for Alpine Hills where Monique said Lawrence lived. That wouldn’t yield anything useful to me. I wondered if Huntington knew he was being followed? And did Clint know I was following him?