As I approach the car my gaze slides from the sooty edges at the top of the windshield to the blue-and-white "United States Government" license plate leaning against the dashboard. These are not policemen. They are feds.
I'm tempted to turn and run, but…not yet. Don't lose your head, keep calm and look for answers. There's no way anyone knows what happened to the money.
Praying I'm right, I step through the revolving door, scanning frantically for the early-morning employees occupying the vast network of tables on the building's ground floor. To my relief, everyone is in their places, the first cup of coffee in their hands.
"Excuse me, sir, can I have a word with you?" a deep voice asks me.
To my left, in front of the mahogany reception desk, a tall, square-shouldered man with pale blond hair approaches with a clipboard.
"I need his name," he explains to me. -Why?
"Sorry, I'm with Para-Protect, we're trying to find out if we need to increase security in the reception area."
It's a clean answer with a clean explanation, but last time I checked, we didn't have any security related issues.
-And your name? He insists, maintaining a friendly tone.
"Oliver Caruso," I say.
He looks up, not surprised but quick enough for me to notice. Smile. I smile. Everyone is happy. It's a pity that I'm about to faint.
He makes a small mark next to my name on the list on his clipboard. There is no mark next to Charlie's name. It still has not arrived. As the blond man leans over, his jacket falls open slightly and I can see the leather strap hanging from his shoulder. This guy carries a gun. Behind me, I take a last look at the unmarked cars. Security company and shit. We have problems.
"Thank you, Mr. Caruso, have a good day."
"You too," I say with a forced smile. The only good sign is that he lets me through. They don't know who they are looking for. But they are looking. They just don't want anyone to know.
That's it, I decide. Time to get help. I cross the lobby, past the seating area, heading for the public elevator, but quickly change direction and continue walking toward the back. I use the Lapidus code every day. Don't attract attention by stopping now.
By the time I reach the private elevator, sweat is pouring down my chest—my chest, my back—and I feel like I'm soaking through my suit and wool coat. From there, things only get worse. As I step into the wood-paneled elevator shaft, I'm about to loosen the knot on my tie. Then I remember that there is a surveillance camera in a corner. My fingers slip away from my tie and scratch at an imaginary itch on my neck. The doors close. My throat is dry. I decide to ignore it.
My first reaction is to go see Shep, but this is no time to be stupid, so I push the button for the seventh floor. If I want to get to the bottom of this, it is necessary to start at the top.
"She's waiting for you," Lapidus's secretary warns me as I fly past her desk.
"How many stars?" she asked, knowing how she classifies Lapidus's mood. Four stars is good; one is a mess.
"Total eclipse," she replies.
I stop dead. The last time Lapidus was this angry was with the divorce papers.
"Do you have any idea what could have happened?" I ask, trying not to lose my cool.
I'm not sure, but have you seen
ever an erupting volcano...? I suck in a breath and rest my hand on the brass knob. "...I don't care what they want!" Lapidus yells into the phone. Tell them it's a computer problem... that it was caused by a virus; this matter is closed until further notice and if Mary has a problem with that, tell her to deal with the agent in charge of handling this matter!
He hangs up the phone just as I close the door. Following the direction of the sound, he turns his head towards me, but I'm too busy looking at the person sitting on the opposite side of his desk. Shep. He shakes his head slightly. We are dead.
"Where the hell have you been!" Lapidus yells.
My eyes are still on Shep. "Oliver, I'm talking to you!" I jump, turning to my boss.
"I'm sorry... what?"
Before he can answer there is a knock on the door behind me. -Go ahead! Lapidus barks. Quincy opens the door and sticks his head out. He has the same expression as Lapidus. clenched teeth Nervous movements of the head. The way he surveys the room, me... Shep... the sofa... even the antiques, it all registers. Granted, he's a born analyzer, but this is different. The paleness on his face. It's not angers. Is fear.
"I have the reports," he says anxiously.
-Y? Let's hear them," says Lapidus.
Standing in the doorway and refusing to enter the room, Quincy's gaze hardens. Partners only.
Lapidus quickly pushes away from his desk, gets up from his leather recliner, and heads for the door. As soon as he disappears, I face Shep.
-What the hell is going on? I ask, making an effort not to raise my voice. Did they...
-Was you? Shep asks. "If it was me what?"
He looks away, totally overwhelmed.
I don't even know how they did it...
"They've done what?"
"They've found us, Oliver.
Whoever took it, they were watching the whole time...
He caught her by the shoulder.
"Dammit, Shep, tell me what..."
The door is flung open and Lapidus storms back into the office.
"Shep, your friend Agent Gallo is waiting for you in the conference room...Will you please...?"
"Yeah," Shep interrupts, getting up from his seat.
I look at him sideways. Did you call the service?
Don't ask, he walks away, shaking his head.
"Oliver, I need you to do me a favor," Lapidus says excitedly.
He goes through a stack of papers, looking for… "There," I say, pointing to his reading glasses.
He picks them up and puts them in his jacket pocket. There is no time to say thank you.
"I want someone downstairs when people start coming to him," he says. I don't want to offend the Secret Service people, but they don't know our staff.
—I don't understand...
"I want you to stay by the door and watch people's reactions," he barks, his patience long gone. I know we have an officer checking the gate... but whoever did this... they're too smart to call in sick. That's why I want you to watch people as they enter the building. If they don't have a clear conscience, the agent will scare them...they can't hide their panic. Even if it's just a slight pause or an open mouth. You know people, Oliver. Find out for me who did it.
He puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me to the door. Lapidus and Shep leave for the conference room. As I try to find alternatives, I head downstairs.