From there, the scenery morphs into shrubs and small, tidy homes. I’d say it was lovely, except for the torrential downpour. The windshield washers on mega-speed, I can barely make out the road.
Our chauffeur, apparently used to driving blind, carries on as if nothing is amiss and as I clutch my laptop case, she points to an industrial park the size of JFK airport. “There’s the Microsoft complex. CloudTekToys is a few miles away.”
Moments later, she slows in front of a pristine guardhouse and informs the uniformed man of our appointment.
“Have a nice day.” He shows her the visitor’s entrance and raises the barrier.
“You too.” I echo back his lack of enthusiasm.Why even say it if you don’t mean it?
Our cheerleader pulls to the curb, shoots us sunshine and rainbows, then sing-songs, “Thank you. Make sure to give me a good rating.”
Good God, why are people so nice? It’s creeping me out. Where’s a surly New Yorker when you need one?I pause on the way out, lean over the front seat, and try like fuck to think of something polite to say.
“Thanks. I’ll make sure to tell everyone the ride was… informative.” Inside the building, I tap in five stars and leave a review. I start to mention how she can speak continuously while driving one-handedly over a floating rock bridge, but my companion interrupts.
“C’mon. There’s the front desk.”
Unlike most places, where you show your driver’s license and sign in, we’re expected to fill out a two-sided form. I’ve visited Riker’s Island and let me tell you, the security there is lax compared to CloudTekToys. If they expect me to endure a cavity search, I’m out of here. Thankfully, I pass through their metal detector without incident.
From there, a young man in khakis, probably an intern, or at least I hope so, walks us to the elevator and uses a thumb print to bring us to the top. “Wait here please.”
I raise an eyebrow at Dash. “You could’ve warned me.”
“It’s a hi-tech company. I assumed you would know.”
Ouch. Another dig. The man is full of them. If our PI firm is so damn clueless, why hire us? When I find the answer, I suspect much more will become clear. Putting those thoughts on hold, I straighten my suit, put on a professional smile, and shoot out my hand to GeorgeMansfield, the CEO of CloudTekToys.
Attired in plaid shorts and sandals, the thirtyish blond belongs on a surfboard in SoCal rather than on a board of directors. “Would you like something to eat? Coffee? Tea? Juice?”
He motions us into a playroom where twenty-nothing-year-olds play foosball, ping pong, and darts. Others sit on couches, staring into their laptops. An overabundance of fruit, bagels, and donuts rest on countertops next to cappuccino machines and microwaves.
“I’m good.” I glance at my travel companion, who shakes his head.
“We both just ate.”
“Excellent. Let’s speak in my office.” We pass by unoccupied conference rooms of various size and shapes. Some have projector screens and tables. Others boast nothing but a few overstuffed chairs.
At the back wall, we arrive at the only personalized space where he ushers us in and closes the door.
After we all sit, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry you wasted a trip. I can assure you, all of our employees are fully vetted, and our security is top notch. There is absolutely no way the theft was an inside job.”
Dash expected this response and as we rehearsed, he hands the man a resume. “I completely agree with you which is why I want to complete this investigation as fast as possible.”
The young man reads the paperwork, then thinks while staring out at the rain. “Okay, but she must pass our tight standards. If she does, she reports to me like any employee, understood?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tall, dark, and deceptive shines a toothy smile at the man. “I’d suggest a round of golf but I’m afraid it’s supposed to downpour all week.”
Turning my head, I roll my eyes. Damn. What is it about executives and tiny pitted balls? If I ever want to get ahead, I’ll need to learn to play. Despite mad skills at Coney Island, my long drives would need work.
When they’re done bonding over the trap on the eighth hole, I break in. “Would it be possible to have a look-see at your shipping schedule?”
“Why?” The CEO’s face drops and Dash’s brows furrow. Clearly, neither one of them was expecting me to do my job.
“Sorry, I like to be thorough.” And, to be honest, I’m more than a little miffed at how I’ve been surgically cut from their conversation.
Recovering first, Mansfield clears his throat. “I’m not sure. I’ll need to ask my security adviser and get back to you.”
What the fuck? I expected an easy yes and his reluctance makes me wonder what he’s hiding. Playing my cards close to my vest, I clear my face of expression. “Sure, I understand.”
