Broken Build (16 page)

Chapter 15

Monday morning, Dave slammed the door of his SUV and raced across the parking lot. He barged into his office, startling Lisa from her email. “Where’s Greta?”

Four days to Black Friday and the demo failed in front of his only customer. They had threatened to go with his chief competitor if he couldn’t deliver.

Ignoring the burning sensation in his chest, Dave stalked toward Greta’s office. She was walking near the break room but turned a one-eighty when she saw him.

He caught her at the end of the corridor. “The system failed this morning. Did you verify multithreaded flock merge with last night’s build?”

“Of course we did.”

“Why did it deadlock in front of the Mississippi execs this morning?”

Greta wrung her hands. “We were working so hard on auto-update, we had to spin another build.”

“You’re supposed to label the good build and create another branch for auto-update. That’s no excuse.”

“You commandeered our build engineer, and our backup engineer isn’t up to speed. What have you done with Jen?”

None of your damn business.
Dave’s heart rate accelerated to blast point. “I want you to revert to Saturday evening’s build and fix only the deadlock problem. I don’t care about auto-update. We won’t be updating anything if Mississippi pulls the trial.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Where’s Jen?”

“She’s resting. She had a hard weekend.”

“I’m sure she did.” Greta pushed her glasses up her nose. “A little sprained ankle isn’t grounds for shirking her duties. What’s going on between you two anyway?”

Dave inhaled sharply. “This has nothing to do with Jen. It’s you and your incompetence. We had a good build Saturday night. Why did you allow additional check-ins? This is the second time we bombed the demo.”

Greta blinked like a goldfish behind her huge spectacles. “I should have known she’d turn your head. There was a reason I kept her away from the likes of you.”

“You’re way out of line here.” Dave’s pulse thundered in his chest. How dare she act as if he were a predator! “You’re fired, Greta. Clear your desk and leave.”

A knot of engineers gathered with stunned expressions. Dave swept his gaze over them. “Meet me in the
Big Chill
conference room in fifteen. Everyone.”

“You haven’t heard the last from me.” Greta followed him. “I’ll sue you.”

Dave nodded at Lisa, and she picked up the phone. Moments later, two guards walked Greta out the front door.

Dave handed Lisa his car keys. “Take my SUV to my house and pack my suitcase, overnight bag and collect Jen. Bring the camp cots too. Take Bruce with you. Then order breakfast, lunch, and dinner, including Thanksgiving turkey with all the trimmings for Thursday.”

The only person at his company he could count on was Lisa. He’d met her at the mental care facility where she mourned the death of her husband and son in a freak accident.

She kissed his face and grabbed her purse. “Everything will be fine. Calm down, okay?”

Dave squeezed his fists until his knuckles ached. How could he possibly be calm? Last night had been hell. He had dreamed about Abby—specifically Abby and the nanny. The nanny had painted her face like a clown, and Abby had laughed hysterically while she bounced on the nanny’s tummy. Each squeal punched his gut and rolled him in thorns of agony. His company could not fail. He had to get the money to bring his little girl back.

* * *

Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains. Jen rubbed her eyes and snapped to a sitting position. The digital clock displayed 10:37 am. She had set her iPad alarm, but it hadn’t gone off. Where was it?

She hobbled to the dresser and searched around the nightstand. Her laptop was also missing. It and the iPad belonged to the company. She grabbed her crutches and stepped down the hallway to the kitchen. Empty. She opened the door to the garage. The white Camry sat there, but the SUV was gone.

Jen’s hands shook as she put in her contact lenses. Her eyes were still too irritated to wear them overnight. She should have asked Dave to take her home yesterday, especially after he went on the rant about the nanny. But by the time they returned from Santa Cruz, Dave was late to his Marketing meeting. She’d gone to bed before he returned, afraid to meet him in the hallway.

“I’m Into You” belted from her cell. The number from her apartment. She answered it.

“Jen?” Sherry’s voice drawled, sounding tired. “I know you told me not to bother you, but Saturday a bunch of people came from work and took all your things.”

“Thanks for calling. I got everything including the cell. Did you change my ringtone?”

“I don’t even like that kind of music.” Sherry smacked on her gum.

Prickles scratched the back of Jen’s scalp. Something wasn’t right. Jen hadn’t told Sherry what the ringtone was. In fact, she had never given Sherry her cell phone number.

“Jen, you still there?” Sherry said. “I’m wondering if you’re ditching this place. I can’t afford the rent on my own.”

Jen propped her crutch on the counter and opened the refrigerator. “You should look around. I’m planning on moving my sister in with me once she gets her driver’s license.”

There was silence for a moment. “Well, sure. You’re the one with the lease. But I wanted to ask you, since you aren’t going to be around, can I invite a friend over for Thanksgiving?”

Jen poured herself a glass of nonfat milk. “Wait, how do you know I’m not coming back for Thanksgiving?”

“Your coworkers packed your clothes,” Sherry said. “They said your boss wanted to keep an eye on you.”

Great, just great. He sure wasn’t keeping a good eye on her right now. What if the thugs returned? Jen looked at the replacement windows. Dave hadn’t even removed the stickers.

“Well?” Sherry asked. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, right,” Jen said. “Don’t leave a mess.”

“We won’t. I owe you a turkey casserole.”

“Sure, I’ll look forward to it.” She put the milk back and closed the fridge door. “By the way, do you have an email address?”

“Email? You mean on a computer?”

“Yes.” Jen sipped the milk. “You do know how to set up an account, right?”

“Uh… I’m an old waitress at a country western bar. I still remember when telephones had dials. Listen, honey, I’ll try not to call you too much. Bye.”

Sherry hung up. Well, that sounded suspicious. She wasn’t that old. But then she didn’t own a computer. Possibly Dave was being overly paranoid. Some old flame he couldn’t remember was giving him a hard time. Jen wasn’t about to join the growing list of star-struck females.

She called Praveena’s cell. It went to voicemail.

“Hi, Praveena, it’s Jen. I’m stuck at the castle of the Beast. He’s taken my laptop and iPad, and I can’t log in. Can you come at lunch and bust me out of here?” She clicked off the phone.

Her thoughts returned to Santa Cruz. She’d forget the tender scene right before he went ballistic about the stupid nanny. The familiar ache returned. Abby was gone without a trace. And it was her fault.

Jen checked herself in the mirror. The plastic surgery had done wonders, erased her acne scars, straightened her nose and defined her cheekbones. She picked at the tiny mole on the side of her jaw. She should have had it removed, but her mother had always called it her special beauty mark. What if he recognized her? Panicking sparks jittered around her waist. She had to leave before he returned.

She called Praveena again.

Praveena answered on the first ring. “Jen, have you heard?”

“No, what?”

“Jewell fired Greta. The builds were all broken last night. The database crashed, and the transactional system deadlocked. The event routing ran out of threads, and auto-update thrashed all the test machines. We have to reimage all of them by hand.”

Jen dropped her crutch and slumped into the sofa. Greta was her boss and mentor. If Dave had fired her, it meant she was no longer protected.

“Jen, are you there?” Praveena’s voice piped through the phone, sounding worried.

“Am I fired too?”

“I don’t think so. Lisa and Bruce are coming to take you to work. Jewell says nobody goes home until the software is stabilized and uploaded in time for Black Friday. Why’s he keeping you at his house, and why are you calling him the Beast?”

The story was too long. How could she tell anyone about the blood under the car? Or that she had been with Rey the night he died? Or that Dave had kissed her like she was the last woman alive?

A half-truth would have to suffice. “I was attacked this weekend. He thinks there are gangsters after me. They stole a USB flash with corrupt code.”

“Hey, Jen, I gotta go. Wei wants me to review code with him.” Click.

Wow, did she miss the punch line or something?

Jen tucked her cell phone into her purse and waited for Lisa. The landline rang and rang and rang. She let the call go to the answering machine. The computerized voice said, “We’ve had your daughter for six years. Now it’s time to pay up. No police. Follow the directions exactly or—”

Chills sprinkled over Jen’s shoulders. She picked up the receiver from the cradle. “Or you’ll what?”

The line went silent. Jen held her breath.

“Who are you?” the voice said.

Jen calmed her breathing. There was no way they had Abby without the police finding them. She settled on the couch. “Whatever you’re trying to do, it isn’t working. I don’t believe you have the baby.”

“Baby? She’s six years old now, and yes, I know where she is.”

Jen’s entire body stiffened. “Where?”

“Why should I talk to the hired help?” The computerized voice cackled. “Put me through to Mr. Jewell.”

Something about the voice raised Jen’s hackles. A metallic acid bubbled to her throat. She swallowed deeply, took a silent breath and relaxed her vocal cords. “How do I know you’re the kidnapper?”

“I didn’t say I was the kidnapper. But I know what happened.”

Jen tapped her good foot on the coffee table, her heart beating off rhythm. “Tell me who kidnapped Abby Jewell, or be a good citizen and go to the police.”

The voice cleared its computer-altered throat. “Why should I? You’re the nanny. You go to the police.”

How could he know she was the nanny? Unless Rey told him.

“I’m going to call the police.” Jen bluffed.

An electronic laugh emitted from the phone. “Sure you will, nanny. I’ve already left my calling card on your stomach. You should have played nice with Rey.”

Sweat popped over Jen’s nose. She squeezed her fingers around the receiver. She
had
played nice with Rey and look what happened. Now she’d make her own demands. “Give me Abby Jewell, and I’ll get you what you want. How do I know you really have her?”

“You’re not in a position to call the shots. Have you ever wondered how you got your job at Shopahol? Sweetie, I won’t blow your cover as long as you cooperate.”

“Sure…” Jen exhaled into the receiver. What did any of this have to do with her getting the job? An itch traveled through her inner ear. Maybe she took the job because she wanted to keep in touch with Dave, to do anything she could to atone for her big mistake. Or maybe she was plain stupid. Tears wet her eyes.

“Good. Remember, we know what you did.” The line clicked.

Shit, shit, shit. Jen couldn’t stop shaking. Time ticked, seconds and then minutes, but the phone stayed silent. If she could only go back to that horrid day. She grabbed a crutch and stumbled to the kitchen and found the jasmine tea in the back corner of the cabinet needing a lazy-susan. The same tea she had served her visitor six years ago.

Chapter 16

Dave reached for a cup of cold coffee. Running engineering 24/7 was exhausting.

“The catering truck is here with dinner.” Lisa dropped a bundle of envelopes on his desk. “Here’s your mail.”

Without looking up from the test reports, Dave said, “Didn’t I tell you to sort through them first?”

“There’s a padded envelope marked URGENT on the front. If it’s an anthrax bomb, let me get out of here before you trigger it.” Lisa laughed at her own joke and sashayed back to her desk. At least someone was on meds around here.

Dave picked up the envelope. Big bold letters were slashed across the tan bubble pack with a skull-and-crossbones scribbled next to his name. David “Pirate” Jewell.

He tore the package open. A memory stick dropped out. A note read. “Surprise, surprise, surprise. We really do have your little girl after all. Follow the instructions exactly. No police, or we hurt her. We’re watching your every move.”

Dave looked over his shoulder and spied Lisa leaning against the doorframe. How long had she been there?

“Lisa! When did this come in?”

Lisa smacked her bubblegum. “No idea. It was left at the front door. No carrier labels as far as I can see.”

He waved her back to her desk and shut the door. After drawing the shades, he put the memory stick into his computer. A slideshow started with pictures of a five or six-year-old girl playing in the park, petting a goat at a zoo, riding a tricycle, opening presents and blowing candles from a birthday cake.

Dave rubbed his face and blew out a breath. He couldn’t tell if the girl was Abby or not. The girl’s skin was fair, not brown like Jocelyn’s. Her round eyes had a slight slant. She had straight dark-brown hair and she looked happy. Happy and well cared for. He flipped through all the pictures. Not one showed another person. The background could be any park in America. The goats in any petting zoo. The cakes and presents, the Christmas tree, generic.

An ache seized his heart. Had the kidnappers sold her to an American couple? Maybe Jocelyn’s parents were innocent after all. He had accused them and hounded them until her entire family cut off contact with him. Yet an anonymous tip had said a man took a baby girl to the Philippines. What should he do?

He zipped up the pictures and emailed them to Phil, his attorney. This was the first break he got in the case. He needed to talk to someone, bounce off ideas. But right now, he couldn’t take Lisa’s jokes or his therapist’s calming voice. He clicked Jen’s avatar on the instant messaging app.