Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
At the center of the space is a seating area of caramel-colored leather couches arranged around a low rectangular coffee table. A white-tiled fireplace anchors the wall behind them, above which hangs a large framed black-and-white print of the Cascades at sunset.
And along the perimeter of the entire space are glass offices, each framed in the same sage green trim as the windows. Some offices are empty, but others have people inside working diligently.
“There’s no reception desk,” I point out, a detail that strikes me as odd for a lobby.
“Don’t need one. We’re a ‘by appointment only’ kind of business and the front doors stay locked. You have to be buzzed in.”
“Oh,” I murmur, a dozen other questions forming, but a beautiful blond woman appears before us. She’s dressed in a tailored camel-colored skirt that hits just below the knee and a silk white blouse. A wide brown leather belt with a bold gold double-ring buckle cinches her waist, sharpening the silhouette, and her heels look dangerous to walk in. She’s holding a digital tablet in one hand, a coffee tumbler in the other.
She smiles at Cole and turns her attention to me. “Good morning. You must be the journalist.”
“I must be,” I reply, holding out my hand. “Tessa Ward.”
“Josie McAdams. I’m the intelligence specialist who will be working with you.”
Well, that’s one mystery down.
Josie pivots and Cole follows, so I do the same. She leads us through a set of doors and down a corridor lined with conference rooms until she enters the last one. A huge table that could seat at least twenty takes up the room and a man sits at the end. He looks up and I’m taken aback by how handsome he is. His brown hair is longish to the shoulder and wavy, and like Cole, he has hazel eyes, although his seem to have more of a greenish hue. He can’t be more than thirty years old.
He stands up and rounds the table, his hand outstretched. “Tessa… I’m Malik Fournier, director of the Jameson Seattle office. It’s nice to meet you, although these are less than desirable circumstances.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I reply.
“Please… let’s all sit,” Malik says, motioning to the table. He resumes his seat at the end and Josie sits to his left, immediately setting up her tablet to type on a wireless keyboard.
I follow Cole to the two seats to Malik’s right, and I don’t think twice when Cole pulls out my chair for me. A move he’s done hundreds of times, always the gentleman, always insisting he open doors for me, make me walk farthest away from traffic on the sidewalk.
Malik folds his hands on the table. “Cole gave us a brief summary of what’s going on, but before we talk about that, I want you to know that we’re going to help you.”
I’m still confused about why they’re making such an offer. “Like I told Cole, I don’t have the money to hire your agency, and I know my newspaper won’t. I just wanted Cole’s help on looking at the fire patterns.”
Malik holds up his hand. “There’s no charge for our services.”
“But—”
“Consider it the friends and family discount,” he says with a sharp smile, in a tone that tells me it’s going to be useless to argue. Cole doesn’t say a word, not even a twitch at the label friends and family. “How about you give us the details so we can figure out a game plan?”
I push aside my worries about involving this company in not just my personal business but in my professional business. I’ve always worked alone to help preserve the integrity of relations with my sources. As succinctly as I can, and knowing they’ll ask all the necessary follow-up questions, I walk them through everything. I explain my original theory formed with Erik’s help—about fire-pattern anomalies, the shell corporations, and finally the mysterious flash drive that I’m eager to look at.
I go through all the details of the meeting in the garage, the SUV, the moment Erik died, the fear, the escape. My voice shakes only once and I notice that Cole’s hand twitches like he wants to reach for mine but doesn’t.
When I’m finished, the room is silent.
Josie is the first to speak. “I’m going to take the flash drive and make a forensic backup. I’ll check for tampering and start mapping all the information.”
I can’t help but get a little proprietary. “I’m sorry… but that information is from a protected source. I don’t share stuff like that.”
“With all due respect,” Josie says softly, “your source is dead. I don’t think he’s going to care if we look at it.”
I jerk back as if I’d been slapped, my eyes whipping to Cole. He stares at me, eyes hardened and resolute. “Accept the help, Tessa. It’s the surest way to help you solve this and keep you alive at the same time.”