Likely Suspects (15 page)

It’
s Monday, finally; this was the first thought that popped into my head when I woke up. I squinted to make out the time. It was just before eight. I rolled over on to my back and stared at the ceiling, trying to collect my thoughts. Martin and I were going to get the manufacturing plant footage then check in with both Mark and O’Connell to see if there were any new developments or if Mrs. Griffin had been located. If not, I was going to make sure a missing person’s report was filed. I also had to call Kate Hartley to check into Martin’s missing funds. It was going to be a long day.

I got out of bed
and headed for the bathroom. Splashing was coming from outside, and I opened the drapes and went out onto the terrace. It was the first time I used the French doors since arriving at Martin’s. He was already up and swimming laps. I watched him for a couple of minutes before heading back inside.

By the time I got downstairs, Martin was coming in from his morning swim.
“Good morning,” he greeted too cheerfully for this early hour.

“Morning,” I mumbled in response.

“I’ve got some good news.” He seemed excited, but he noticed my half-asleep demeanor and decided it best to turn down the cheeriness. “I’ll be back in twenty, and I’ll tell you all about it.” He practically skipped up the stairs. Whatever he was on, I wanted some. Although, I was sure he just happened to be one of those morning people; how they existed was baffling. Thankfully, coffee was already made, and I poured a cup and brought it into the living room and sat on the couch. I noticed a missed call on my phone, but it was from a blocked number. Maybe it was just a wrong number.

He
came back down the stairs in dress pants, white shirt, and tie. I stared at him expectantly, waiting for this supposed good news. “Jeffrey Myers called this morning. Guess who showed up to work today.”

“Holy shit.
” I was amazed. “Griffin?” I wanted to make sure we were on the same page.

“Yep,” he was genuinely excited, “j
ust like normal.”

“Wait, did you call O’Connell?”

“He’s on his way. I’ve got Myers keeping an eye out to make sure she doesn’t leave the building.” I wanted to kiss him and also hit him for not telling me twenty minutes ago.

“What are we waiting for?”
I thought better of my comment. “Correction, you should stay here. I should go.” But he cut me off.

“No.”
I was prepared to argue, but he continued. “As far as Suzanne knows, you are not my security consultant. You are my girlfriend, and a girlfriend does not go traipsing down to the office to confront a suspect.”

“Person of inter
est,” I automatically corrected, and he gave me a look.

“Same difference.”
Okay, so the good news was we had a lead, a living, breathing opportunity to get answers. The bad news was I wasn’t supposed to go near her.

I narrowed my eyes
. “O’Connell told you to keep me away, didn’t he?” I didn’t think Mr. Big Shot would waste an opportunity to get answers and his old life back sooner rather than later.

“Perhaps, but it makes sense.”
He waited for an argument, but I didn’t give him one. I already decided I’d wait a couple of hours and then go to the precinct and see what I could find out. Maybe I’d bring Mark along. “In the meantime, we can get the plant footage and take it from there.”

“Fine, but we might need to make a stop on the way back.”

*
       *       *

Marcal drove us to the manufacturing plant. It took only a few minutes to get the video footage. The problem was there was absolutely nothing helpful on it. The cameras in the factory were posted on the ceilings, and everyone on the floor wore the same jumpsuits and hardhats. Unless the saboteur looked directly up at the cameras, we weren’t going to be able to identify him.

“T
his was fun.” My sarcasm was rearing its ugly head again, but Martin wasn’t quite as quick to give up.

“I need the sign-in sheets.
” He turned to the worker helping us. The man searched for the proper file folder and flipped through a few dozen pages before finding the one with the proper date. “Where can I get the payroll list for that date?” Martin asked once the sheet was provided. The man went back and found the corresponding payroll list and handed it to Martin. Martin copied the documents and handed back the originals. “Thanks.”

“Good thinking.
” Between the footage, the sign-in sheet, and the list of those who were paid for working the day, it would be easier to narrow down how many unaccounted individuals were loitering in the factory. Martin seemed pleased with himself.

We were heading back to the car when my phone rang.
“Who is it?” he asked as I looked at the caller ID. Still blocked.

“I don’t know.”
I hit answer and held the phone to my ear. “Hello?” No one responded. I tried again. “Hello?” I heard a click. Frowning, I put the phone back in my purse. “Apparently it was no one.” I didn’t like getting unknown calls, and this was causing a funny feeling.

“It was probably just
a wrong number or one of those automated things,” he suggested.

“Yeah, probably.
” I wasn’t convinced. As I got into the car, I called Mark. Luckily, he answered. “Hey, Griffin’s back,” I told him.

“I know.
O’Connell gave me the news.” Great, I was the only one not included. “I’m heading down to the precinct now. Care to join me?”

“I’ll be there.”
I hung up and leaned forward in the car. “Marcal, can you drop me off at the police station before taking Mr. Martin home?”

“Sure thing,” he replied, and
Martin glared at me. Obviously, he wanted to be the one in charge of our destination.

“
You are going back to the house and staying put until I get back. Mark can give me a ride.”

“I wasn’t going to argue.
” He was playing innocent. “I need to go over the expense reports again and maybe conference call with the accounting department to get things straightened out.”

“
Okay. If not, I’ll call Kate and see if she can look it over for you,” I promised.

Marcal dropped me off at the precinct, and I met Mark in the lobby.
“Are they here yet?” I asked, hoping Mark knew more than I did.

“Yeah,
O’Connell’s got her in the back.” He drummed his fingers impatiently against the counter. “I’m waiting for him to escort me up.”

W
hile we waited, Mark filled me in on all the digging he had done. My Friday afternoon call requesting backgrounds on the ex-employees and any and all possible gang or drug ties had turned out to be completely fruitless since it was now very obvious our suspect list was down to current MT employees only, and no ties to gangs had turned up. I felt ridiculous for having made the call in the first place, seeing as Martin and I had been in the middle of a knock-down, drag-out fight which was what led to my hysterical plea for assistance. I admitted this to Mark, and he laughed. Evidently, he understood how irritating Martin could be.

I checked my watch and impatiently tapped my foot against the tile floor.
The precinct was quiet, probably because it was a Monday morning. Finally, I spotted Thompson and O’Connell. They appeared to be joking about something. O’Connell saw us waiting and came over to the front desk.

“Ms. Parker,” he didn’t seem surpri
sed, “Agent Jablonsky. I’m guessing this is a package deal.”

I shrugged.
“If you want me to stay out here and wait, that’s up to you.” I was trying to play ball.

O’Connell turned to Mark.
“Let me guess, whatever you see or hear, you’re just going to tell her, right?”

“M
ost likely.”

“Fine, you both go up, stay on the other side of the glass, and have no contact with Griffin.
You hear me?”

“Loud and clear, D
etective,” I replied.

He led us
upstairs to the observation room on the other side of the interrogation room. There was a tech guy recording the video and audio of the interview. Mark and I stood in the back, watching as Detective O’Connell asked Griffin a few questions.

“Ma’am,” O’Connell was seated across from her, his back to us, “there was some concern o
ver where you disappeared to since you didn’t show up to work, and there had been no word from you after the explosion on Thursday afternoon.”

Griffin seemed startled.
“Am I in trouble? I didn’t do anything wrong.” I was beginning to have doubts that she was the criminal mastermind behind all of this.

“Can you tell us what happened Thursday afternoon?” O’Connell asked
gently, and she cleared her throat.

“I went to lunch and
walked a couple of blocks to get a sandwich when I heard a really loud noise. There was dust and people screaming, so I hightailed it out of there. I went straight home. I thought it was some kind of attack.” Mark and I exchanged glances.

“Why would you think that?” O’Connell as
ked, standing up and slowly pacing the length of the room.

“
Mr. Martin’s got a target on his back.” I leaned closer to the glass, watching her expressions.

“
You seem to know a lot about that.” O’Connell feigned intrigue.

“
I am the senior personal assistant at Martin Technologies. I know what goes on with all the board members.” She puffed herself up with false importance.

“She can’t be serious,” Ma
rk whispered.

“She thinks she’s so
me hot shit,” I replied.

O’Connell tried a re
direct tactic. “Was anything missing from your office today when you returned to work?”

Gr
iffin seemed slightly flustered. “I’m…I’m not sure. I wasn’t in my office very long.” I didn’t believe a word she said.

“Really?”
O’Connell was baiting his hook. “There were reports of a break-in on the seventeenth floor from Friday night. Your office and Ms. Parker’s were both hit, according to the surveillance tape we watched.” How far was O’Connell going to take his fictitious scenario?

“What was taken from her office?”
Griffin tried to play innocent, but we weren’t falling for her act. What was her motivation for asking that particular question?

O’Connell opened
the file folder and picked it up, flipping through a few sheets of paper, pretending to be reading a report. “Nothing of any real significant value. A company laptop and coffeepot were both missing, but I shouldn’t be discussing this with you.”

“Really, he thinks she’s going to
believe someone stole my coffeepot?” I was speaking out loud to myself, but Mark chuckled. Perhaps O’Connell didn’t want to tell her what really transpired in case she was to get caught in a lie of her own creation.

“
What a shame.” She tried to appear sympathetic. “My computer was untouched, Officer.”

“Detective,” he corrected
.

“She just lost some brownie points,” Mark
commented, and I tried not to laugh. We were mocking the interview, and we probably should have been more professional.

“Was everything else?” he asked again.
She seemed to consider the question, internally debating if she should say anything.

“I think so,” she concluded.

“I see. That’s good to hear.” O’Connell sat across from her. “So, where have you been these last few days?”   

“I went on
a trip,” she answered a little too quickly.

“Where did you go?”
O’Connell stood up and leaned against the table in front of Griffin.

“
I was going to visit a friend, but I decided at the last minute to go on a road trip. I stayed at a lovely B&B not far from here.”

“Where does your friend live?” O’Connell asked, seeming curious and friendly and not at all interrogative.
Maybe he practiced his good cop/bad cop routine in the mirror.

“Nova Scotia, Canada, but I thought it’d be too cold to go up there t
his time of year.” Griffin just had all the answers, didn’t she?

“That’s understandable.
” O’Connell continued to play the friendly role. “What B&B did you visit? My wife is always pestering me to take her somewhere nice.”

“It’s called the
Cat’s Cradle, just off Route 9.”

He would
check to see if she had been there. “Thanks. I’ll have to make a reservation. We’re almost through here. I just need to check and see if my partner finished his paperwork. Can I get you a glass of water or some coffee?”

“Coffee
would be nice with cream.”

“Sure thing,” O’Connell said and headed out of the room.
He opened the door to our room and told the tech to get a coffee with cream and bring it back.