Billionaire Decoded (7 page)

She was extremely busy and lost
herself in work. She took her job seriously and had gotten through quite a bit
of paperwork that needed catching up and updating by the end of the week. She
looked forward to finishing out the day and then relaxing over the weekend,
doing nothing more than putting on some lounge clothes, watching TV, reading,
and basically just vegging. If Melanie was available and not on a photo shoot,
maybe they could go do something.

By the time Friday early afternoon rolled
around, she had pretty much forgotten about the man with the camera. Maybe she
had
just been imagining things. After
all, this was Boston. There were always visitors, travelers, and photographers
taking pictures of historical landmarks
and
admiring the
architecture. She began to think she had been downright silly to burst into
Brecken's office on Monday morning, jumping to the conclusion that somebody was
following her. She felt embarrassed about that now. For heaven's sake, she had
acted like a terrified heroine in the 1950s B mystery movie.

She wondered if Brecken had followed
through on his comment that he would have one of his own people do
surveillance. She knew that he had a security department, but that was mainly
for protecting the building and intellectual property inside it, wasn't it? It
wasn't like they were supposed to be perceived as bodyguards. Again she shook
her head, feeling incredibly foolish. She was kind of glad she hadn't seen
Brecken all week. She couldn't imagine what he thought of her now. His new
accounting department manager...afraid of her own shadow? She wanted to be a long-term
employment here, not a temporary one. She would have to keep better control of
her emotions.

It was nearly mid-afternoon when her
phone rang. She was just wrapping things up at her desk, looking forward to
finishing work, relieving the headache that had begun to pound in her temples,
and resting her eyes after such intense work at the computer all week. She
picked up the phone.

Hello?" she answered, her voice
soft and lilting. She didn't hear anything. "Hello? Can I help you?"
Still nothing. She frowned, figured it was a mis-dial, but tried one more time.
"Hello, is there something-"

"How does it feel to work for a
traitor?"

The voice was male, deep and rumbly,
as if he had just finished coughing.

"What?" Had she heard
correctly? "What did you say?"

Nothing.

"Hello? What are you talking
about?"

She heard the dial tone. The caller
had hung up. What the hell?
How does it
feel to work for a traitor
? Who was he talking about? Brecken? How could
anyone get the idea that Brecken was a traitor? She shook her head, frowning.
Did this have anything to do with the guy that was following her with the
camera? Someone
had
been following her.

What the hell was going on? Her
heart rate accelerated. As she glanced down at her desk, she realized that her
hand shook as she replaced the receiver on the combination phone and answering
machine. Shit. She was fortunate she was already sitting down. If she had been
standing, she was sure her knees would be wobbling by now. What the hell was
going on?

Should she say something to Brecken?
Was someone just playing a joke on her? A prank? Was she going through some
kind of hazing at the company as a new employee? There was no doubt that she
had likely been hired over a few others in the company that had probably put in
more time, so maybe someone was jealous or upset. Someone was trying to make
her nervous enough to quit. A man following her. Taking pictures. A mysterious
phone call. Accusations of Brecken being a traitor? This all made no sense.

She glanced at her computer screen,
all her documents closed now, wondering what to do. She didn't want to go
running up to Brecken again with yet another suspicious claim. Then again, that
phone call had been directed to her on her phone line in her office. It wasn't
some bystander on the street. Someone had called her office extension. She was
still so new that her name and number were not likely listed in the public
company directory, so how would someone get her extension number?

Her computer screen flickered for a
second. She quickly focused on it, frowning. What now, a power surge? To her
dismay, the computer screen suddenly went black. What the hell? She half rose
in her chair, thinking to unplug the entire system. This was a computer
programming company. They didn't get computer glitches.

But they could be hacked. Just as
she was reaching for the power plug, another image popped up on our screen. She
froze, staring at it in wide-eyed dismay.

It was an image of herself, walking
on the street just across from the Starbucks – the same street where she had
seen the man taking photographs of her. She sank down into her chair, her knees
definitely wobbly now. It wasn't just the image of her strolling down the
street that alarmed her, but her hair blowing in the breeze. No. It was much
more than that. Two red X's had crossed out her eyes. The image had been
Photoshopped to show her wearing a cast on one arm. What did it mean? A cast?

At the bottom of the picture, two
words had been superimposed on the photo.

Think twice.

That did it. She sprang into action
and quickly printed the image, before it disappeared. As soon as she gave the
computer the command to do so, she shut it down. Across the room, her printer
clicked and whirred into action, slowly disgorging the image of her walking
down the street, glancing slightly over her shoulder, her eyes not quite
meeting those of the photographer.

She quickly picked up the phone and
punched in an extension. The phone rang once before it was answered.

"Mister Shaw's office,"
Cynthia's pleasant voice answered.

"Cynthia, this is Heather, in
accounting. Is Mister Shaw still in?"

"Yes, he is, Heather."

"I need to see him," she said,
trying to keep her voice calm even though she still heard the tremor in it.

"Certainly. Would you like to
schedule an appointment first thing on Monday?"

"No, I'd like to see him now if
it's possible." She hesitated. “It’s urgent.”

"Let me see if he's
available," Cynthia said. "I'll put you on hold for a moment."

Heather said nothing as Cynthia did
just that. She listened to what she always called elevator music, although the
music playing was more of a soft, upbeat kind of jazz. A few seconds later,
Cynthia's voice came over the line.

"Mister Shaw is going to
believe leaving in about ten minutes. Can you come up here right now?"

"I'm on my way," she said.
The moment she hung up the phone, she grabbed a copy of the photo that she had
printed, her sweater, and her purse and headed out of her office, not
forgetting to lock her office door. She quickly stepped down the hallway toward
the elevator. Pressed the UP button and waited impatiently. A few seconds later,
she heard a soft
ding
and the
elevator doors opened. She rushed inside and then pressed the button up to
Brecken's office. As soon as the doors opened, she stepped out and quickly
headed down the hallway. She saw Cynthia at her desk.

"Go right in," Cynthia
offered with a hand gesture.

"Thanks, Cynthia," she said.
She stepped toward Brecken’s door, knocked once, and then without waiting for a
reply, opened the door and entered. By now, her heart was pounding. She was
seriously alarmed. Brecken glanced up from some paperwork, did a double take,
and then tossed his pen down on the stack of papers he was working on.

"What's wrong, Heather?"
he asked, half standing when he saw the expression on her face. "You're as
white as a ghost." He quickly came around his desk and pulled out one of
the visitor chairs. "Come. Sit down. Tell me what's happened."

Wordlessly, fighting back the urge
to cry, she handed the copied image of her to Brecken. "Someone called me
just now with a cryptic message. Then, my computer screen flickered, went black,
and the next thing I knew, this image was displayed on my screen."

She watched as Brecken gazed down at
the photo. His jaw hardened. She saw a vein throbbing in his temple. He glanced
at her, an eyebrow raised in question.

"When did this happen,
Heather?"

"Not ten minutes ago!" She
paused and shook her head. "I'm not going to lie to you, Brecken. I'm
concerned. First a strange man following me taking photographs and now this?
It's been quiet all week. I haven't seen that man at all, and I even began to
think that I had imagined it, that I was letting my imagination run away with
me. Now, after seeing that?" She gestured with a shaking finger at the
image. "What's going on? What does that mean? Why did they Photoshop a
cast on my arm and cross out my eyes?"

She swallowed, forced back the tears
as fear enveloped her. "Brecken, is there something that your company is
involved in that I should know about? Is there something you need to tell me if
for nothing else than my own safety?"

He sighed heavily and stepped toward
her to wrap his arms around her. She leaned into his embrace, feeling sheltered
and protected. Much too soon, Brecken took a step back. He cleared his throat
and leaned against his desk, half-sitting on the edge. He carefully placed the
paper with her image on his blotter and then turned to her, his arms crossed
over his chest. "Heather, this is a computer programming company. We have
lots of competition domestically and abroad. There are going to be people who
lose out on contracts, get upset, and make idle threats."

"But I don't have anything to
do with the day-to-day running of your business!" she argued, shaking her
head. "Why would they take pictures of me? Why am I getting strange phone
calls?"

He frowned. "What exactly did
the caller say?"

“He said, ‘How does it feel to work
for a traitor?’” She clasped her hands together in her lap to keep them from
shaking in front of Brecken. While she was scared down to her bones, she didn't
want to appear like a ninny who jumped at her own shadow. "Why would
someone say something like that? How did someone from outside the company get
my number and extension? I've only been here a week. It's not public
knowledge."

He shook his head and sighed.
"I don't know, Heather, but I’ll get to the bottom of this."

"Did your security guy find out
anything? Did you look for anyone this week?"

"He's reported to me every
day," Brecken nodded. "He hasn't seen the guy following you, at least,
not a man based on your description." He shook his head. "Look,
Heather, why don’t you take some time off if that will make you feel
better-"

"But I just started working
here!" she gasped. "How will that look to the staff if you give me a
week off a week after I start?" She shook her head. "Besides, I think
that man, whoever he is, probably knows where I live by now.” She paused and stared
out the window a moment, not seeing the vista of downtown Boston spread out
around her. “Are you going to call the police?"

He shook his head. "I don't
really have anything to tell them other than you believe you're being followed,
have received a phone call, and this image. You know what they’ll say. They’ll
need proof-”

“But the photo-”

“Anyone could have sent that,” he
calmly explained. “They would have nothing more to go on than my own security
team, and they’re good. Let me see what I can dig up. I'm certain it will find
who's at the bottom of this, and I promise you, I’ll put a stop to it."

At this point, Heather began to second-guess
her decisions. Had she leapt at this job too quickly? Had she allowed the lure
of money and the perks get to her head, override her better judgment? She
usually took the time to vet a company she worked for, but she had given Shaw
& Burk’s background only a cursory glimpse before she had gotten the
interview with Brecken just over a week ago. Was it only just over a week? It
felt like forever.

"And, don't you worry about
what the staff will think," he said. "I give time off to all my staff
when they need it. Kids, family, stress – it’s no big deal. Still, I think it's
just sour grapes on the part of one of my competitors for losing out on a big
project.” He stood. “Let me do some digging, get my security out there asking
questions and doing some surveillance of their own with some of my competitors.
Don't worry, Heather, we'll get to the bottom of this."

She hesitated. "I'm not sure,
Brecken," she said. “At least, when I'm inside the building I feel
relatively safe. But out there…" She shook her head.

"I have to take a trip that I
can't postpone. I wish I could stay, make you feel a little more secure, and try
to make this up to you." He offered her a smile. "Nothing like
intrigue to deal with as a new employee, isn't that right?"

She got the impression he was trying
to take some of the fear away, to make her smile, but she didn't really feel
like it. She glanced up at him. "Brecken, I'm not asking you to divulge
business deals or anything like that. But I do need to know. Is there something
I should be concerned about working here? Is there something going on that I
don't know about that can affect me? I don’t understand why anyone would target
me. You have more than two-dozen staff. Why me?"