by Kira Chase
Johanna bit her bottom lip. “We can't walk in and announce that we're private investigators. That will scare them off. And what if we run into Thatcher? He might recognize us from Kramer Insurance Company.”
“I know. Any ideas?” Frankie took a bite of her tuna salad sandwich.
“Not yet. I'll think of something.” She wiped her mouth on a napkin. “Maybe we should rent a car before we go to Bronson Enterprises. We could use it tonight, too. That way if Thatcher were to become suspicious that he is being tailed, it would throw him off, especially if he's already noticed both of our cars.”
“Yeah, I like that idea. He might not even suspect anything, but better to err on the side of caution.” She grabbed her water bottle and took a long drink from it. “I'll give Jillian over at Hudson Car Rental a call to set up the rental.” She stretched her legs out in front of her. “Now we need to come up with a believable excuse as to why we are at Bronson Enterprises.” She was silent for a few minutes and then snapped her fingers. “I've got it! We'll pretend we're journalists for some corporate magazine. Bronson was chosen not only because of their many charitable contributions and the foundations they've established, but because of the unique programs they've instituted for their employees to enhance the working environment.”
Johanna lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Is that true?”
She shrugged and then chuckled. “Who knows? That's just off the top of my head. We'll come up with something that'll make them want us to do a piece on them. We'll explain to them that we want the slant to be from the employee's point of view. You know, like a big happy family working experience.”
“What if it's not a big happy family?”
She made a face. “It doesn't matter. We need to get inside. All I know is that we've got to find out what kind of man Thatcher Longman is.”
“Do you think anyone will really give us any dirt? They'll be on guard wanting only to put their best foot forward. No one will dare say anything negative for fear of repercussions. No one is going to risk their job to trash their employer. Besides, why would they? It's supposed to be an upbeat piece.” She sighed. “And who knows. Maybe it really is a wonderful place to work and maybe Thatcher is the perfect boss.”
“I don't buy it. No job is perfect.” She rubbed her temples. “Let me think. We'll charm the pants off them and put them at ease. We can trick them into telling us what we want to know if we word our questions very carefully. Hopefully, someone will spill information not only about Thatcher but about Becca Manning before they realize what they're doing. If they realize what they've done, we can tell them we'll keep it out of the article.”
Johanna laughed. “It sounds preposterous, but what do we have to lose? I love it! It's a good thing I grabbed a couple of outfits for you. Either will fit the part for a conservative looking journalist.” She looked Frankie up and down. “Even though after all these years, I still can't convince you how fantastic you look in a dress or skirt, one of the outfits is your black dress slacks and blazer. I hope you choose the skirt and blouse, though.”
Frankie exhaled loudly. “You know what I'll choose.” She opened one of her desk drawers and pulled out a pair of black-rimmed glasses with clear lenses. She put them on. “How do I look?”
“Very professional,” Johanna replied.
“Here's a pair for you, too,” she said reaching inside the drawer and retrieving a second pair. She handed them to Johanna. “I stopped at the discount store and picked them up while I was out getting the sandwiches earlier. I also stopped at the hair salon and asked Kathy if I could borrow a couple of wigs.” She pulled them out of the same desk drawer. “I thought blonde for you and jet black for me.”
“I love them!” Johanna squealed. “Let's get ready.”
* * * *
Frankie finished attaching her wig and then turned toward the back room. “Are you ready?” she called. “I locked the office up already.”
“I'm right here.” Johanna walked into the office dressed in a stylish navy blue dress with matching navy pumps. She'd tied her blonde wig back. She walked to the side of her desk and picked up a brief case.
Frankie whistled. “Wow! Maybe we can hold off for a little while. You look just as hot as a blonde.”
Johanna scowled good-naturedly. “Now you behave. We have work to do.”
“Okay, I'll try.” She smiled. “I'm glad Jillian had a rental car available.”
“Where Thatcher Longman is concerned, we need to take every precaution.” She looked Frankie up and down. “You look very nice. Your wig is perfect. I see you chose the slacks.” She scowled. “I suppose it's a good compromise keeping you professional looking and comfortable at the same time. At least you won't complain.”
“I'm easy to please,” Frankie said as she turned out the lights before they exited their office through the back room, which led to their small private parking area. “Just so I don't have to wear a dress or skirt.”
Johanna rolled her eyes. “Only when called for. So, what if we're told we need an appointment before we can conduct any interviews?” she asked. “I just thought of that.”
“We'll build up the article and explain to them that it's time sensitive. We'll convince them that they are at the top of our list, but we do have a couple other companies we are considering.”
“What if they want to know the name of the magazine or want to check our credentials?”
“We'll say that we're writing an independent series of articles, including this one, and several top publications have shown interest.”
“What if Bronson Enterprises isn't interested?”
“Stop. There's no time for second guessing ourselves now. We'll get in. And if for some reason we don't, then we'll have to think of a different plan.” She held a hand up palm out. “And don't ask me what because I haven't figured that out yet.” She smiled. “Quit worrying, sweetie. I'm just going to wing everything.”
“You're right. And you are a pro at winging it.” She picked up her bag. “So, have you come up with names for us?”
“Hmmm...let me think. How about Janel Watson for me and Katie Roberts for you.”
Johanna nodded. “I like it. She followed Frankie out of the back entrance. After she locked the door, she got into the passenger seat of a sleek, newer model dark blue mid-size rental car. “Okay, Janel. Sounds like a plan.” She fastened her seatbelt while Frankie slipped into the driver's seat. “I love the interior of this car. Very stylish.” She ran her hand over the smooth, fabric covered seats.
“Yeah, they had some less expensive, but just in case anyone notices the car I wanted us to look the part. Driving something that shows we are successful. Besides, Alec said we should spare no expense.”
“You made the perfect choice.”
“It drives like a dream,” Frankie said, starting the engine. “I love driving this baby.”
“Well, I get to drive it back when we finish.”
Frankie made a face. “Damn. I hate sharing it, but I suppose I have to.”
“Yes, you do.” Johanna smiled. “I hope we'll have everything ready for next Saturday. You haven't had a chance to get the pool ready since we've been so busy.”
“It'll be ready. Everything's under control.”
Johanna lifted an eyebrow. “When are you planning to work on it? Time's running out. It's dark by the time we get home every night. And even if it wasn't, we're too tired to do much of anything.”
“Not to worry. I asked Trey and Will if they could do it. I also invited them to the barbeque since I'd forgotten to ask them. Which reminds me, we need to officially invite George. I'll give him a call later,” she said as they reached the parking garage of Bronson Enterprises.
“Okay.” She stretched. “Well, I still need to plan a menu. I haven't had a chance.”
“Don't worry about it, honey. It's not going to be anything fancy. We've got hotdogs, burgers, and chicken in the freezer. I'll throw together a couple of salads, make some baked
beans, and you can take care of dessert. Just a bunch of good friends getting together for a few hours.”
“Good. That takes a load off my mind.”
Frankie pulled into a slot. “I never realized how big this place is. This garage is huge.”
“I had no clue either, but when I was doing some research, I read that Bronson only uses the top floor and leases the rest of the space to other businesses.”
“You're right. I forgot about that. He also has a separate area of the garage for Bronson employees that can only be accessed by a pass. That's on the other side of the garage where we watch him exit every night.”
“Must be nice.”
“Too bad we can't get in that part of the garage.”
They got out of the car, and after Frankie locked it, walked a short distance to an elevator. The elevator opened to a large lobby that had a bank of elevators lining one wall. A security team manned the opposite wall. In the middle of the room, a large glass-encased directory listed the various businesses and which floor they were located on.
They walked to an elevator, which was just opening. They stepped inside, along with several others, and Frankie pressed number twelve. They stood silently as the elevator opened and closed with people getting on and off at each floor. When the doors opened on floor twelve, they found themselves in a large reception area. The furnishings were modern with very little color in the black and white décor. The area was teeming with people.
“Not what I expected,” Johanna whispered. “I expected plush carpeting and exquisite art on the walls. Not this plain cold décor.”
“That's what I thought, too. I assume the head honchos have the fancy offices.”
They moved to a long counter, which on the opposite side housed built-in desks where several men and women sat busily tapping their computer keys. They waited for someone to notice them. When no one did, they moved towards a long hall.
A perky brunette popped her head up from her computer. “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” Frankie replied. “Would it be possible for us to conduct a few interviews for a series my writing partner and I are proposing?”
Johanna listened as Frankie gave the woman the details. She noted how thick Frankie was pouring it on, even mentioning a couple of the major magazines that had supposedly shown interest in their proposal.
“Give me a minute,” the woman finally said.
Frankie turned her head and smiled, then winked at Johanna.
“I've got to hand it to you,” Johanna whispered as they stepped away from the counter. “I never knew the Bronsons were involved in so many enterprises.”
Frankie glanced toward the counter. “Here she comes. Keep your fingers crossed.”
The brunette smiled brightly at them. “My supervisor is on board with it, but she's going to run it by Mr. Longman first. She's discussing it with him now.” The smile was still on the woman's lips as she put a hand by the side of her mouth conspiratorially and whispered, “I'd love to be interviewed if Mr. Longman gives the go ahead.”
“We'd be pleased to interview you,” Frankie replied.
Johanna kept her laughter tucked deep inside. This woman clearly had dreams of grandeur just because of a possible mention of her name in a prestigious corporate magazine. Johanna scrutinized the woman. She wasn't unattractive, but her features were blunt, leaning more toward masculinity than femininity. Her shoulders were broad and the short-cropped hairstyle did nothing to enhance her looks. In fact, it accentuated her longish narrow nose and wide forehead. Johanna thought the woman would be better served if she grew her hair out and wore bangs. Her attention was drawn to the second woman who now joined the brunette at the counter. The second woman was tall, slim, stylishly dressed, and attractive. She was in direct contrast to the brunette. Her long, light brown hair was tied back revealing high cheekbones and a long neck.
“Hello, I'm Jayne Carson.” She nodded toward the brunette. “Kylie has filled me in on the magazine article, and I in turn have consulted with Mr. Longman.” She paused. “Mr. Longman wanted to meet with the both of you first, but unfortunately is tied up in meetings all afternoon. But he's agreed to let you conduct the interviews under certain conditions.”
“And those conditions are?” Frankie asked.
“You'll sign an agreement stating that publication of your article will only be allowed once Mr. Longman has read and approved the article or makes changes to it.” She eyed them carefully.
“That's fine,” Frankie replied.
Jayne observed them for a long minute and then turned her attention to a clipboard she held in her hand, her long slender fingers of the other hand tapping the list. “Do you have an allotted amount of time to conduct each interview?”
Johanna was going to respond, but decided to let Frankie take the reins since she seemed to be doing such a good job. She concentrated on Jayne's perfectly manicured fingernails. They were painted a unique shade of pink she'd never seen before. She hadn't made up her mind whether she liked the shade or not.
“Each interview should take between fifteen to twenty minutes. We can conduct them during breaks and lunch hours,” Frankie suggested, “if you're worried about any disruptions.”
The woman was thoughtful for a minute. “That will work.” She placed a slender finger to her temple. “We'll have an agreement drawn up and ready for your signatures before the end of the day.” She paused. “How do you think your piece will differ from the numerous articles written about the family and business over the years?”
Frankie perked up. “No one else has ever done an in depth article from the employees' point of view. We want to grab the readers and make them envious of the employees who are fortunate to work for such a powerful man who treats them as though they are part of a big happy family.” She raised an arm and swept it toward the workers at the long counter. “Everyone appears so happy and pleased to be at work. That's something rarely seen today.”
Jayne's lips curved up into a wide smile. “I'll be anxiously waiting to read the piece myself. Now, if you'll wait here for a few minutes, I'll see where we can set you two up.” She abruptly turned on her heel and made her way down a hallway.
After she was safely out of earshot, Johanna whirled on Frankie. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “How is any of this going to help us? I was on board with this, but now I think we're just wasting our time.” She tried to control her emotions. “Do you even have a plan, Frankie? Why are we doing this when we should be getting the dirt on Becca Manning?”
Frankie leaned close to her ear. “I do have a plan. Trust me with this.” She smiled. “Don't worry. We'll get the dirt on Thatcher and Becca. I think those two are entwined in something and it's up to us to find out what that is.”
Moments later, Jayne moved towards them motioning with an extended arm for them to follow her. She led them down the same hall she'd just returned from, stopped in front of a door, and ushered them inside. As they entered, Johanna was instantly struck with the sharp contrast to the reception area. The enormous room was beautifully decorated with expensive art pieces lining the walls and dark plush carpeting. At one end of the room, several comfortable looking chairs, upholstered in a rich fabric a shade lighter than the carpeting, surrounded a large antique desk. At the other side of the room, two long, beautifully designed worktables were at opposite ends of the space with more of the same upholstered chairs. Jayne led them to the area of the room with the worktables.
“Will this suffice?” she asked looking expectantly at them.
“It's a beautiful room,” Johanna replied. “This area is perfect.”
“The room is used for departmental staff meetings,” Jayne said. “If you want coffee or a snack, there is a small kitchenette behind the wall on the right. Feel free to help yourselves.”
“Thank you.” Frankie set her large shoulder bag on one of the tables. “We'll get set up then.”
“Good. I'll be back with your first two interviewees.”<
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After the door closed behind her, Johanna walked to the other table and set her purse and bag on top then rushed over to where Frankie stood. “We don't have a plan, Frankie. And what do we put for an address and phone number on the agreement?”
Frankie patted Johanna's arm. “Stop worrying. We'll make up an address and phone number later. Just pretend we're actresses playing a part.”
“Then you would definitely win an award.” Johanna rolled her eyes. “I don't feel good about this.”
Frankie brushed the back of her hand softly across Johanna's face. “We'll be fine. I thought we could record the conversations.” She pulled several pens from her bag. “We'll use our lucky pens. We haven't used them in a while.”
“I'd forgotten all about the pens. Good idea.” Johanna shook her head as a smile broke across her face. “It would be nice to interview Becca.”
“I doubt she'll agree to it. Since this is supposed to be a homey piece, try to steer the questions to the working atmosphere, then subtly ask about Thatcher.”
“What about Becca?”
“Only bring her name up if we interview someone from the finance department. There are a lot of employees here so an employee from a different department may not have had contact with her,” Frankie reasoned.
“Good point. I'm still surprised at the amount of employees.”
“Well, Thatcher has expanded into many ventures outside of the hotel business.”
“And Becca handles everything that comes in and goes out.” Johanna walked back to her table and looked up when the door abruptly opened and Jayne ushered in two young women and then disappeared. Since Frankie's table was closest to the door, she welcomed them and motioned a mousy looking woman to a chair near her table. Johanna smiled brightly as the other one, a light brown haired chubby woman with large doe-like eyes, timidly began walking over to her.
Johanna glanced at Frankie and then took a notebook and one of the pens Frankie had given her and clicked it on, holding it loosely between her fingers before turning her full attention to the woman. She set the notebook and pen on the table and then extended her hand in greeting. “Hello, I'm Katie Roberts. Thank you for agreeing to be interviewed.”