Authors: Simon Wood
“No, you don’t understand. MDE no longer requires your services.”
“If this is about the break-in at my home, I told you MDE wasn’t compromised. The thieves were interested in my computers, TV, and anything they could hock, not the plans. The plans weren’t even touched. I take the precaution of backing everything up online. None of the work was lost.”
Bellis held up a hand. “The decision has nothing to do with the break-in. As I say, circumstances have changed.”
Hayden hadn’t seen this coming. His pride kicked in. He never walked away from a job, voluntarily or otherwise.
“I’m nearly finished. It’ll only take a couple of days to complete.”
Bellis’s expression tightened. His professional smile was stretching into a grimace and his polite decorum disappeared. “I’m sorry, Hayden. I’m the client here. Your services aren’t required. End of subject. OK?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I just don’t like to disappoint my clients.”
Bellis’s affability returned. “You haven’t disappointed me. You’ve been professional under difficult circumstances, but those circumstances have resulted in a change of thought. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ll be sure to contact you for our next project.”
It sounded good, but Hayden wasn’t buying it. He knew a Dear John when he heard it. Bellis would never consider him for another job, which was fine with him. MDE meant only bad memories.
“OK,” Hayden conceded.
“Good. We’re wrapping the project up this weekend. Come by the office Saturday at ten with everything. Be sure to bring your time sheets and a final invoice.”
Bellis turned away and left.
Hayden wondered what the hell had triggered that decision. If the project had been accelerated, then why fire him? Bellis still needed someone to complete the work. The break-in could have been a deciding factor for the decision, but Hayden didn’t buy it. OK, if this design was the technological breakthrough MDE’s client claimed, they might fear industrial espionage, but firing him didn’t help matters.
Bellis walked over to Rebecca and said his good-byes. This signaled the rest of the MDE contingent that it was time to leave. Lockhart fell in at Bellis’s side on the way out. Hayden guessed he had Lockhart to thank for his dismissal. Bellis might have given him the bullet, but Lockhart had pulled the trigger.
Rebecca saw them out and came over to him. “What was that all about?”
“Bellis just fired me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter. It was only a short-term thing. I just didn’t see it coming.”
Bellis’s exit initiated an exodus. Rebecca saw the last of her guests to the door. Hayden remained to help out. He collected plates and loaded them into the dishwasher while Rebecca dealt with the departing caterers. She returned to the kitchen.
“Leave that,” she said. “It can wait, but this can’t.” She held up a bottle of wine.
She handed it to him and he opened it while she rinsed out two glasses. She emptied the bottle into the glasses.
“Don’t you think that’s a little too much to drink?”
She admired her handiwork. “No, I don’t.”
He didn’t think so either. He followed her into the living room and they sat on the sofa. Somewhere along the line, he’d lost a handle on the time. It was early afternoon, but it felt much later.
“What are your plans now—back to LA?”
“Eventually, but I’m here for another week. I have to tie up all Shane’s affairs, and then there’s this house. Shane left it to me, but I don’t know whether to keep it, rent it, or sell it.”
“Don’t rush anything. If this place sits for a month, so what? Look, I’m back here Saturday morning to settle up with Trevor Bellis. If you’d like to meet to talk things through, I’d be happy to do it.”
She looked at Hayden thoughtfully. “That’s really kind. I’d like that very much.”
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while. Hayden didn’t feel the need to talk. Just sharing some quiet time for a change suited him just fine. Rebecca ruined the moment by hurling her empty wineglass into the fireplace. It exploded on impact.
“Goddamn you, Shane.” Her body was taut. Tendons stood out on her arms from balling her hands into tight fists. Her eyes shone with tears. “Goddamn you for getting so high you went and did something stupid. Suicide. What were you thinking? What would Mom and Dad say?”
When her questions went unanswered, she sagged back into her seat.
“Feel better?” Hayden asked.
She palmed away the tears. “Not really. I want to know why he did it.”
“And we’ll find an answer.”
She turned to him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because Shane was my friend and he entrusted that file to me. He wanted something done with it. I don’t know if you’re right and someone is looking for it or whether he intended doing something with it later, but I want to finish what he started.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. Shane has cost you so much already.”
“He hasn’t cost me anything.”
“What about your job at MDE?” she said. “Do you think Trevor Bellis fired you because of Shane?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe. It’s not really important. It’s a job. I have another one. I think this has more to do with the narcotics floating around MDE.”
“Just because two people employed there died after taking a new street drug doesn’t mean you’re the connection. The connection is MDE.”
“That’s not what Santiago thinks.”
“Detective Santiago doesn’t like you very much.”
“Ah, womanly intuition. Is that how you picked up on that?”
“Wasn’t necessary,” she said with a smile. “It’s hard to miss.”
He wondered if Santiago really had it out for him. Santiago wasn’t stupid. Maybe the detective saw him as the wedge that would open up whatever was going on at MDE. It was easier to go after him than Bellis. Bellis had lawyers on his side. Hayden didn’t.
The smile that had looked so good on Rebecca’s face suddenly faded.
“What’s up?”
“OK, Shane and Sundip got high, but it doesn’t explain why they killed themselves.”
It didn’t. It couldn’t. The drug was only one part of the equation. The confessions were something else altogether.
“It all comes back to MDE,” Hayden said. “I’ll use Saturday to get some answers.”
E
arly Saturday morning, Hayden parked his Mitsubishi in front of his father’s business, JD Engineering—Specialist Machinists. Even on a Saturday, his father would be working. He’d grown up seeing his father leaving for work, but John Duke never neglected his only son. He would find the energy to shoot some hoops or play ball, even when Hayden knew he was dog tired. Their time together during Hayden’s formative years may have come in limited chunks, but John Duke made sure it was quality time. He was one person Hayden could turn to for help.
Hayden grabbed a roll of plans off the passenger seat. He’d copied MDE’s plans the morning after Bellis told him to return them. If MDE proved to be at the heart of Shane’s death, he wasn’t giving up anything that could be evidence.
Hayden stepped inside JD Engineering and the smell of cutting oil threw him back twenty years to when his father had worked as a maintenance supervisor. He’d let Hayden drive a forklift, albeit on his father’s lap, open valves that made steam spray out from floor grates, and drink nasty coffee from a vending machine. Hayden’s reminiscences made him smile as he spotted his father operating a lathe.
“Hey, Dad,” Hayden yelled over the din.
John Duke looked up and waved. “Let me finish this cut, OK?”
His father had started JD Engineering, a machine shop, after he’d become bored with life as a retiree. He sank a sizeable chunk of his 401(k) into the venture, and the gamble paid off. His reputation as a quality machinist meant he was rarely short of work.
His father wound back the saddle and shut off the lathe. The machine’s whine died as it came to a slow stop. “Aluminum is a bitch. The damned stuff never breaks off.” He checked his watch. “What can I do for you at nine on a Saturday morning?”
Hayden smiled. “I need a favor.”
His dad frowned. “Another one?”
Hayden followed his dad into the shop’s cramped corner office. His dad poured himself coffee and offered Hayden a cup, but he declined. The last thing he needed was a stimulant. He was about to cross a line. If he shredded the plans and wiped the flash drive now, he wasn’t breaking MDE’s contract, but the moment he handed the copies over to his father, there was no going back.
His dad sat behind his desk. “OK, what’s the favor?”
Hayden put the plans on the table. “Can you hold on to these for a while?”
“Depends. What are they?”
It was just like a parent to ask questions, but only a parent would do what he was asking.
“You know this job I was doing for Shane?”
John Duke nodded.
“There’s something not quite right about it.”
His father sat up in his seat. “How so?”
Hayden didn’t exactly know. It was all feeling, nothing substantial, but he felt its presence like a black cloud.
“I’m not sure. The job’s very secretive. I had to sign a nondisclosure agreement. There’s a ten-million-dollar penalty for breaking it.”
John Duke frowned. “Tell me you’ve got an eleven-million-dollar reason for doing this.”
“Because two people are dead.”
Hayden had spoken the words before he realized what he was going to say, but once he’d said them, the force of them made his decision final. He felt the strength of his convictions.
“Two people?”
“One of Shane’s coworkers killed himself the week before Shane did.”
His father was silent. The look on his face said he was trying to make sense of the situation and failing. “How do you know their deaths are connected?”
“I don’t, but what are the odds that two guys working together would commit suicide a week apart from each other?”
“You must have something more than that to risk a ten-million-dollar court date.”
He did. He had Shane’s password-protected file. He had the super drug both Shane and Chaudhary had taken before killing themselves. He had Santiago breathing down his neck. He had Rebecca’s belief in Shane. A belief he shared.
“I do, but I don’t want to involve you.”
“It’s too late for that. You telling me any of this is involving me. If you’re expecting me to help you, you’d better start talking.” John Duke’s irritation radiated off him in waves.
“MDE fired me at Shane’s funeral.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. After Shane’s death and the break-in, MDE closed ranks and shut me out. Then at the funeral, Bellis fired me.”
“Are you getting paid?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what are you worried about? If this is sour grapes about getting the ax, let it go. Firms don’t show loyalty these days. It’s a fact of working life. Get used to it.”
“It’s not like that. There’s something underhanded going on here.” He pulled out a flash drive and put it on the desk between the two of them. “On there is a file Shane sent me the night he killed himself. He told me to keep it safe and not to look at it. It’s password protected. I think whatever is on there is the reason Shane killed himself.”
John Duke picked up the flash drive and examined it. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
His father had seen through him. He hadn’t wanted to discuss this part, but he wasn’t going to get his father’s cooperation without telling him.
“Both Shane and his dead coworker took the same drug. It’s difficult to say whether it’s an overdose or not, but the stuff was potent enough to turn their brains inside out. They committed suicide, there’s no doubt about that, but the drug might have shoved them in that direction. The detective investigating the case thinks I’m a dealer or something.”
“Where the hell did he get that idea?”
“That college bust and the fact that the deaths didn’t start until I reconnected with Shane. Guilt by association, I guess.”
“Jesus, Hayden. What did he say when you told him about this file?”
“Nothing. I didn’t tell him.”
“Are you stupid? Why not?”
“I didn’t want to tell him until I’d seen what was on it. I figured that if it was connected to Shane’s death, I’d give it to him, but if it was nothing, then no one needed to know about it.”
“That’s why he’s all over you. He can tell you’re holding something back.”
“I know,” Hayden conceded.
“Then tell the detective. Give him this stuff and let him deal with it.”
Hayden said nothing. Despite his father’s good sense, he still wasn’t ready to hand everything over to Santiago.
“I’ll think about it.”
“You’re a fool. I don’t see why you’ve gone to all this trouble.”
“Something isn’t right here. My friend and one of his colleagues are dead. What would make them kill themselves? I don’t know, and I don’t know who to trust. I don’t trust Trevor Bellis or anyone at MDE. I don’t trust the police to do the right thing until I can give them something to go on. But I do trust you.”
John Duke could only frown. The emotional ball was in his court. “What do you want me to do?”
“Put the plans and the flash drive in your safe until I ask for them.”
John Duke didn’t answer.
“Will you do it?” Hayden asked.
“Of course I will. What kind of dad would I be if I didn’t?”
Hayden got to his feet to leave. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Where are you going now?” John Duke said, getting up with his son.
“I’m returning the originals to MDE. I hope to come away with some answers.”
Hayden saw himself out and hit the road before his dad could change his mind. Despite his dad’s concerns, he felt upbeat. He might be in way over his head, but at least he was doing something to swim to the surface.
He arrived at MDE forty minutes late for his appointment. He hadn’t counted on the Q&A from his dad. It had held him up long enough to hit the weekend migration into the Bay Area, which slowed him down even more.
Cars lined MDE’s parking lot. It looked as if Bellis had called everyone in to finish this project. Hayden wondered if their client was pushing or Bellis just wanted to draw a line under the project. Either way, Bellis was about to draw a line under him. His official part in all this was about to end. He parked on the street and scooped up the original plans Shane had given him, an envelope containing time sheets, his final invoice, and a flash drive with an electronic version of the revised plans.
From the street, Hayden could see the main lobby entrance was in darkness, so he tried the side entrance, where a dozen vehicles were clustered. The door was protected by a card-key entry system along with a squawk box. Someone had smashed the control box. It trailed from a tangle of wiring extending from the wall.
He picked up the box and examined it. Without even trying the squawk button, he knew it was pointless. The damage looked recent and he wondered if it had happened before or after Bellis and his crew had arrived that morning.
He tried the doorknob but it was locked.
He took out his cell phone and dialed Bellis’s number. Bellis’s phone went to voice mail and he left a message. He tried MDE’s main number, but that also went to voice mail.
He backed up and stared up at the second floor. No doubt Bellis would have the staff up there. He called out, but no one responded. He couldn’t believe this.
He rounded the building to the main entrance. He redialed Bellis’s number on the way. Again, he got voice mail. If no one answered in a minute, he was going to shove everything through the mail slot and they could mail him his damn check.
Hayden pulled up short when he reached the front of the building. A thick length of steel chain encircled the door handles and was fixed in place with a padlock. He hadn’t noticed the chains from the street.
What the hell was going on? He peered inside the foyer. The lights were off and nobody was home. If it weren’t for the vehicles parked outside, he would have thought MDE had gone out of business. Chains seemed like an extreme security measure.
He pounded on the glass doors with his fist. The plate glass shuddered on its hinges, but he didn’t alert anyone, despite the noise.
He called Bellis’s number one last time. Bellis’s line rang and rang.
He stood back from the covered entrance and looked up. He saw no movement at the window.
“Come on, come on, pick up the damn phone,” Hayden said. Bellis pissed him off. If he’d changed his mind about the meeting, he could have done him the courtesy of informing him. As expected, Bellis’s phone line switched to voice mail. “Trevor, it’s Hayden. I’m here at the office, but no one is here to let me in. I’m leaving your plans and my invoice. Call me if you have any questions.”
He hung up and put the phone away.
The mail slot was big enough to take the plans, but not the protective tube. Hayden slid the plans out, flattened them and poked them through the slot. Smoke leaked from the opening. Its acrid bite assaulted Hayden’s nostrils. He yanked the plans free and dropped them.
He leaned in against the glass door and cupped his hands around his eyes to cut out the glare. He stared hard inside. The foyer looked normal, except for the smoke bleeding from behind the door leading to the offices. Smoke also wafted up from behind the receptionist’s desk. The trails merged together and crept across the floor.
“Shit,” he murmured and yanked out his cell phone.
The moment before Hayden’s brain formed the word
fire
, an explosion erupted from above. The concussion blew out the windows on the second floor, sending a shower of fragmented glass raining down. The intensity shook the glass doors in their frame. The building’s awning protected Hayden, but instinctively he dropped to one knee and covered his head against the flying glass.
He darted out from underneath the awning and slipped on the layer of glass covering the sidewalk but kept his footing. His breath jammed in his throat as he caught sight of the carnage. The blast had blown out every window on the second floor. Flames flashed out of the shattered windows, hungry for oxygen, and burning embers rode the thermals before drifting to the ground. Dense, black smoke billowed from every gap. From the crackle and roar of the blaze, it was taking hold of the building’s interior. The heat radiating off the building hit Hayden with a physical force, and the sound of faint screams coming from within chilled him.
He tried to shut out his imagination and failed. All he could see were burning people. Burning people he knew. The imagery rooted him to the spot.
“Jesus Christ” was all he could say.
A blackened and raw arm poked from a window, catching on a jagged edge of the glass. It flailed for help that wasn’t there.
The sight shocked Hayden into action. He raced over to his Mitsubishi, which was frosted by a layer of glass and debris, and yanked open the trunk lid and snatched up the lug wrench. The wrench was the typical piece of ineffectual crap that carmakers supplied with their vehicles. The shank was short, giving him virtually no leverage. It wouldn’t make for a great pry bar, but it would break through those glass doors.
He glanced back up at the window for the arm. It still jutted from the window, but it wasn’t moving. He refused to read anything into that and raced up to the glass doors.
A second explosion rocked the building, shooting out spearheads of flame. Raw heat nipped at his flesh from above. He dived for cover under the awning again. It was on fire now, but it provided the only protection from the heat and flying debris.
He picked himself up and smashed the wrench against one of the glass doors. If it had been heavier or longer, it would have added some real force, but instead, it bounced off the tempered glass, leaving behind only a dime-sized crack.
He smashed the wrench twice more against the door, each time aiming for the same spot. The blow increased the size of the crack, but the door wasn’t about to cave in anytime soon.
He became chillingly aware that the screams from within the building had stopped. They hadn’t been drowned out by the roar of the fire, just stopped.
He dropped to his knees and scooped up his cell. He punched in 911, then resumed smashing at the glass doors. Thick smoke belched into the foyer. Even if he broke into the building, without any breathing apparatus there was no way he could help anyone, but at least he would give those inside an escape route.