Page 7 of Reclaiming Chaos
The company logo dominated the area above the etched glass front doors.
The same woman I’d met during the interviews pushed out of the double doors and smiled as she approached. Her gray business suit was pressed to perfection, and not a single hair was out of place. A few single strands of coarse black cat hair were attached to her skirt. Noticing those small details was why I was so good at his job.
“Welcome back to FT Development, Agent Bennett. Do you have news for us? Have you found Carlee?” Mrs. Briar asked.
“Not yet, but we’re getting close. That’s why we’re here.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Brier glanced between Melony and me. “How can we help?”
“You mentioned Carlee was an analyst. We need to know exactly what she did for your company and we need additional information on what you believe she stole.”
That smile she’d been wearing momentarily slipped. Her brows pinched. “She stole company secrets. I thought we made that clear.”
“Yes, well, I think we’re going to need the whole picture to understand what we’re looking for.”
Melony pursed her lips but said nothing.
“Please show me her work station, and then I’d like to talk to her supervisor.”
“Of course. Let me show you to Mr. Russell's office. I’m sure he’d like to show you around personally.”
Melony’s gaze bored a hole on my back. She didn’t know what she’d walked into, but I was getting a feel for it. The fact that Mrs. Briar wanted to pass us off to the owner of the company meant we were on to something. I just wasn’t sure exactly what.
She gestured toward the elevators. “Right this way.”
Two women passed us in the hallway. One had her head down. The other met my gaze. Her eyes flashed as if in recognition before she hurried the other lady toward the front door.
We stepped onto the elevator, and Mrs. Briar pushed the top button. The fake smile plastered on her face didn’t reach the iciness in her eyes.
“What exactly is it that you research here?” Melony asked, making small talk to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“We research a bit about everything. We have teams assigned to various projects—for instance, horticulture. We’re working on formulas to speed up the fruit-growing process. We have teams working in all areas of how one might conceive of having a better, more enriched life.”
“That seems like a God complex,” Melony said.
Mrs. Briar smirked. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to better yourself and everyone around you in all aspects of your life. Just think of the number of mouths that could be fed around the world if we succeed with our experiments. If we get this right, we can single-handedly end world hunger.”
The elevator dinged, and we stepped out and followed Mrs. Briar down the hall. This floor had actual offices and seemed more like a business building than the levels below, which appeared like a college campus, complete with lecture halls and auditoriums.
“And what project was Carlee assigned to?” I asked.
Only a handful of chairs sat against the wall in the reception area. Next to them was a coffee cart and some pastries. “If you two will have a seat. I’ll let Mr. Russell know you’re here.”
“Thanks.”
“She didn’t answer your question,” Melony whispered.
No she didn’t. Neither Melony nor myself sat. The receptionist was watching us. Cameras were mounted in three locations throughout the room.
Mrs. Briar walked into a conference room enclosed with floor-to-ceiling glass walls approaching the man standing at the head of the table. The eight other people seated around the table froze at the interruption.
Mrs. Briar was saying something to the standing guy and when he turned his gaze toward us, so did everyone else in the room. The movement was synchronized and eerie. Apparently, Mr. Russell, the guy standing was the puppet master. The only question left was what he was trying to control.
