Mr. Alexander, a.k.a. Joel, was HJW Investments’ PR representative who’d been shoved at them the minute they walked in the door asking to speak with Cedric Hawkins’s secretary, the woman who’d called the police regarding his absence. Why this guy was acting as a brick wall between them and real information, Baz didn’t know. However, he did know Joel could tell them nothing about Mr. Hawkins’s whereabouts as of late. Hell, maybe not ever.
“Mr. Hawkins was in the office yesterday,” Joel told them.
“And you spoke to him then?” Allison asked.
“I did not, no.”
“When did you speak to him last?” she questioned.
“I do not work directly alongside Mr. Hawkins, so our paths don’t cross day to day.”
“But you saw him?” Baz asked, growing irritated by the second.
“I did not, no.”
Allison’s tone remained syrupy sweet. “As you can understand, we’re in the process of tracing Mr. Hawkins’s movements for the past twenty-four hours, hoping it’ll lead us to where he might’ve gone. I’m sure someone here interacted with him yesterday, so it’d be in everyone’s best interest if we can speak with them.”
“I’m sorry, no. At the moment, no one here knows where Mr. Hawkins might be, but we will notify the police as soon as we hear from him.”
“So you’re expecting to hear from him?” Allison asked, head tilting, frustration settling on her expression.
“I am not, no.”
Well, at least he’d gotten the canned response down pat.
They were getting nowhere, and honestly, Baz didn’t have time for the runaround. They were under the gun, and the fact this company was putting up a wall between them and their employees was concerning.
“Do you have a restroom?” Baz asked, interrupting. “Little too much coffee this morning.”
“I … uh…” Joel motioned to the door behind him. “Through there, but I don’t—”
“Thank you.” Baz nodded at Allison, then strolled through the closed door that led to the offices.
He didn’t have to use the restroom, but he did want to talk to someone who actually knew what was going on here. Someone who might’ve worked with Cedric Hawkins and could attest to his demeanor the last time they saw him. It wouldn’t give them much, but shit, at this point, they had nothing.
Just beyond the doors was proof this was a company that had held up well through struggling economic times. The decor was modern and fresh, with opaque glass walls separating the reception area from the rest of the space. Light-colored lacquered wood and bright LEDs in the ceiling woke things up nicely. The furniture looked high-end and was spread out, offering that open, airy feel for anyone who might be forced to chill in the waiting room.
He noticed the receptionist sitting at the main desk was dabbing a tissue at her eyes. Clearly she was upset, and Baz doubted her tears and Cedric Hawkins’s disappearance were a coincidence.
“Excuse me,” he said softly. “I’m with the OTB Task Force, and we’re lookin’ into Mr. Hawkins’s disappearance. Could you help me? Or maybe direct me to someone who can?”
The woman looked up as she sniffled, her gaze sliding past him toward the doors he’d come through.
“It’s all right,” he assured her, relaxing his shoulders, going for the laid-back vibe. “My partner’s out there talkin’ to Joel. I’m not trying to cause problems, just need to figure out where Mr. Hawkins is.”
He could tell she was hesitant, had probably been told she wasn’t allowed to speak to anyone. But in those deep brown eyes of hers, he saw pain.
“Did you know Mr. Hawkins?” he asked, aiming for casual.
She nodded.
Glancing down, he found the sign on the desk with her name on it. Crystal Smith.
“Crystal, do you know where Mr. Hawkins might go if he doesn’t come into the office? Besides his house? Maybe a restaurant? A favorite coffee shop?”
“No,” she said softly. “He’s always here.Always.”
“And he was here yesterday?”
