Murder Inc.: A Sci-fi Thriller: Book 1 (23 page)

Following Scott’s departure, Tabby had Stella make her a double espresso, and she sat at the bench, sipping from the mug in thought. She didn’t usually drink coffee so late at night, but with the absence of any medicinal applications, needed something to calm her nerves.

It was unequivocally over between her and Scott. Until tonight, he’d never behaved in such a way. He was genuinely good-hearted, but his addiction and mood swings turned him into another person. She could handle the occasional emotional attack, but physical harm was unacceptable. Even if there had been a minuscule chance of getting back together after the break up, that door was now bolted shut. It confirmed she had made the right decision in the first place.

But that wasn’t the only thing that had changed that day. From the moment Charlie had begun acting strange and told of the company’s iniquitous ways, things had been different. Her life at the company would never be the same again.

She needed a warm shower and then bed, but first she wanted to examine the contents of the drive Charlie had given her. And she wanted to call Charlie; make sure he was okay and see how he’d made it through the afternoon. She fell into the chair in front of the computer and removed the drive from her pocket. As she played with it in one hand, she dialed Charlie’s number through her watch phone. It only took a moment for the recording of his chirpy voice to answer. Tabby slumped deeper into the chair. She considered leaving a prompt for him to return her call, but the crazy idea that whatever she said could be traced back to her at a later stage convinced her otherwise.

The doorbell buzzed. Tabby jumped. Instinct told her Scott had returned, to apologize again, or try to persuade her to give him another shot. She snatched the wall screen remote off a small table and activated the picture. Standing at her front door was Tom Bright. An uneasy fear swept into her belly.

Why would Tom be visiting her? And how did he know where she lived? Perhaps he was there about the drive Charlie had given her. Did she just come clean, hand it over, and save herself the trouble? That was probably the sensible thing, but she couldn’t do that yet. Charlie had told her the company was undertaking criminal activities and he had given her the drive to make them accountable if anything happened to him.

She stood from her computer desk and slipped the drive back into her bra. She entered the hallway from her living room, passing a 3-D mirror on the wall, the shadowy face staring back furrowed with concern causing her to stop. The mirror was dark, and Tabby swiped her finger down a plastic panel along the side, revealing a holographic menu. The mirror could simulate the lighting and shadows of a particular environment so the user could get a true indication of how they would look in almost any setting. There were hundreds of default locations from which to choose. Tabby selected her living room, where the light was brighter. Her pale face appeared; eyes red, skin blotchy. She looked terrible. At any other time she’d be horrified to face Tom like this, but now, given what had transpired, she no longer cared.

She continued on slowly down the last stretch of hallway and stopped before the door, summoning her strength with a deep breath.
You can do this.
A tense hand reached out for the plate. Tabby placed a finger against it and the internal lock disengaged. The door floated open.

Tom stood there, all muscles and good looks bursting to get out of his suit. He tried to smile, but his face folded into a sort of painful grin.

A mix of pleasure and concern filled her and she fought for control. “Tom? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Tabby. Have you got a moment?”

“What is it?” The skin at the back of her neck prickled.

Tom stared back. “Can I come in?”

Tabby stepped back against the door. She wanted to say no, as if refusing him entry would prevent her knowing why he was there. “Okay.”

“Has Jennings been here yet?”

“
Mr. Jennings?
From the office?” Tom nodded. “No. I haven’t seen him.”

“Good.” He put a hand out, indicating they should go in.

Tabby repressed the need to ask about Jennings as she led him down the hallway into the living room. Tom glanced around, taking the place in. Tabby indicated the sofa, and they sat a distance apart. Tom shuffled closer.

“Charlie died this evening.” He looked up at her, those blue eyes she had swooned over so often, now glassy and red. “A heart attack. In the office.”

She had not imagined this. Such an idea was too horrific to consider. Long after her mother’s death, she had trained herself to ignore the terrible possibilities of life, but now, from nowhere, it had rushed back in and took her in its clutches, squeezing the breath from her lungs.

“Wh—what?” He reached out and took her hand. She snatched it away. “Are you… serious?”

“I’m so sorry to have to tell you.”

Her stomach had hit the floor. “Dead? How can you be sure?”

“Bryan Fox visited my apartment. He… came there just to tell me.”

She hung on the edge of the emptiness. Charlie was dead. Tom had no reason to lie, and no reason for trickery. Fox delivering the news was enough. Pressure came behind her eyes. She squeezed them shut and tightened her jaw. She would not cry. She
did not
cry.

Tom took her hand again. Warm, comforting. She let him. “I know how much you thought of Charlie.”

“Yes,” she gasped. Many of the best parts about working at Janefield would be gone now. No more cheeky grins, no more laughter at her silly jokes; patience at her inferior intelligence, never mocking or condescending. He brought her thank-you presents, gifted her many of the gratuitous tickets he received from clients and VIPs. He treated her with respect and professionalism and she had adored him just a little bit more for it.

“Tabby?” She turned to him, robot-like, thoughts dashing through her mind. She needed a moment. He cupped her hand and rubbed the top, soothing. She had imagined this, but never in this way. His touch was comforting though, nothing more, sharing each other’s grief. Tom’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“I don’t know what to say. Or think. I just…”

“Can’t believe it?” She nodded. A tear spilled down one of Tom’s cheeks. “I threw up on the way over,” he said, wiping at it. “I was fine while Fox was there. Kept my shit together. Soon as he left though…”

Tabby blew out air and shifted in her position. “Whoa. What a shock. It’ll take some time to get over, to get used to.”

“Yeah.” Tom turned to her. She could feel him looking. A few hours ago she would have given a week’s food rations to have just him here sitting on the couch with her, but not with this information, not with this news.

She looked up at him and caught something in his eyes, in the perfect features of his face. It might have been the moment, or more. Look away, she told herself, but those baby blues had a magnetic effect, keeping her locked onto him. It had always been that way; they had just never been so close.

Tom shifted closer. “I need a hug,” he said, lifting his bulky arms.

She let him, snuggling in to his torso. She hadn’t hugged another man in this way for years. Despite his size and strength, his arms were gentle, squeezing just enough to convey his warmth. She felt comfortable, as though the fit was meant to be, and as the seconds ticked by, she didn’t want it to end.

Tom pulled away, smiling. “Thank you. I needed that.” She tried to respond, but her voice was a whimper. “There’s more though, Tabby. The night is not over for you, yet. They’ll be here any moment. I was actually surprised they weren’t here before me.”

“Who?”

“Jennings.”

“What—?”

“He’s on his way to see you.”

“Why?”

“Apparently Charlie downloaded some files. Jennings thinks—”

The door buzzer sounded. Tabby and Tom stared at each other. She rose slowly from the couch and walked to the wall screen where she swiped the monitor on. Standing at the door was Jennings and a woman. She turned back to Tom, whose face reflected horror.

“Quick,” Tabby said, “you’ll have to hide in the bathroom until they’re gone.”

Jennings swiped his finger over a silver circular plate by the door. Beyond, he heard the muted sound of a buzzer. He turned to Samantha and smiled, running a hand down the back of her thigh. He loved the thicker curves of her upper legs. Strong, powerful, just like her.

Their detour had been at Samantha’s insistence. The thing had overcome her and she wouldn’t be denied, as though she were on heat. He had argued the importance of getting to Tabitha quickly, but after a moment he knew it was a fight he couldn’t win. It was a little sick, Jennings thought. Her ‘husband’ had just died, but Samantha had insisted on stopping to celebrate the moment with a sexual pit-stop. He had never met a woman with such intensity and passion for it. His legs were still trembling a little. The corner of Samantha’s mouth turned up. She didn’t smile, but that was the best anyone would get.

“Go easy on her, okay?”

“Easy?”

“She may have nothing to do with this. And if she does, we don’t want to spook her.”

“She’s got the drive.”

Jennings closed his eyes and rubbed his left temple. Another headache. It had been worse before the sex. “What makes you so sure?”

“There’s nobody else. The time frame between downloading the files and her leaving is too narrow.”

He closed his eyes again and thought about the outcome if they didn’t find it. Depending on what Charlie had copied, it might be catastrophic. The company had fought small information leaks and investigations in the past, and Fox could usually make anything go away. There had been several intense investigations by the IRS, and the FBI had gotten close some years ago, but this felt different. Even if they were able to contain the leak quickly, it made him look bad, especially if the knowledge reached Chekov. The Russian was intolerant of mistakes. Jennings heard a story that he had once burned alive the family of a repeat offender. Jennings had to find that drive. Fox would have to be put on the backburner.

“What is it?” Samantha asked.

Jennings opened his eyes, and gave a little shake of his head. “Nothing.” He pressed the buzzer again. “Where is she?”

“Probably spotted us through a camera, now she’s hiding. I’ve never liked her. Charlie couldn’t shut up about her.”

“Jealous?” Samantha sneered. “Fox told me to be careful with her. I don’t know what he meant by that, but I don’t like it.”

“If I get a sniff that she’s got these files, I’ll take her down.”

The internal lock disengaged with a click and the door floated open. Jennings pushed it aside with a stubby-fingered hand. “Hello, Tabitha.”

“Mr. Jennings?” She pulled the door back and lifted her brows. She frowned, and stared at Samantha for a long moment, but said nothing.

“Can we come in?” Jennings asked, stepping through the entrance. He wasn’t going to give her a chance to say no. “There are a few things we need to talk to you about.”

Tabitha fell back and kept her eyes down as they passed. Inside, they waited while she closed the door, and led them along the narrow hallway until they reached a small living room with two shortened sofas. At a table in the meals area beyond, Tabitha stopped and put out a hand, offering the seats. They all sat. She watched them cautiously, waiting for an explanation.

“Charlie Billings was found dead in his office this evening.”

Tabitha stared. Her right eye twitched. Jennings waited for the tears to begin. “Charlie’s dead?” she said, clearing her throat. “How?”

“Heart attack.” Jennings shifted in his seat, getting comfortable for more serious questioning. “I’m sorry. I know you and Charlie were close.”

“He was a good boss,” she said, running a hand through her thick blonde hair. “Very easy to work for.” She flashed a look at Samantha, who sat stony-faced.

“How have things been at work?” Jennings asked.

Tabitha’s brow furrowed. She seemed distracted, lost in thought. “Um… fine. Normal. Nothing out of—”

Samantha leant forward. “Has Charlie’s behavior been odd lately?” Jennings glared at her.

“Well…”

Jennings studied Tabitha’s her reaction. She cupped her face in her hands and made a groaning noise. “I’m sorry.”

“Take your time, Tabitha.” It was Samantha’s turn to glare at him. “Just have a think about that question for us. It’s very important you try and remember anything… negative he might have told you about the company.”

She closed her eyes, concentrating. “He grumbles every now and then about time frames. Thinks we should change some of the processes.”

“The food at the company restaurant?”

“What else?”

She shook her head. “Nothing really, that I can think of.”

“Has he attended any strange meetings?” Jennings asked. “Any strange clients?”

Samantha said, “Any police officers?”

“Nothing I can recall.”

“He didn’t seem unhappy with the company?”

Tabby frowned. “I’m an administration clerk. As much as Charlie and I talked about sports and movies and family, he never talked about anything beyond
my
work. As far as I knew, he loved working there.”

Samantha leant further into the table. “You’re an executive assistant. We know how close you were.”

Tabitha drew a long look at Samantha and then turned to Jennings. “What’s this all about? Did Charlie do something wrong? Have
I
done something wrong?”

Jennings put a hand out. “
No.
Of course not. We’re just trying to establish Charlie’s frame of mind over the last few weeks.”

“You
never
heard him complain about the company?” Samantha asked. Tabitha’s jaw set tight. “Did he make threats or suggest—?”

“Who are you?” Tabitha interjected. Samantha’s stony eyes grew thin. “I mean, I’ve seen you creeping around the office, so you clearly work for the company, but I don’t have any idea who you are.”

Samantha began to respond, when Jennings raised his hand. “This is… Charlie’s wife.” Tabitha’s mouth fell open. “She heads out security team at Janefield.”

“Charlie’s wife? He never mentioned that you worked there.”

“It’s not important,” Jennings said. “We—”

“Why are you not in tears? I should be handing you tissues.” Tabitha asked. Samantha stared back at her, eyes like cold, dark stones.

“Samantha is grieving in her own way,” Jennings said. “This is important for everyone. We need to know if Charlie did or said anything unusual lately.”

Tabitha sat straight, palms flat on the table. “I already told you, there’s nothing.”

“Well, we think differently,” Samantha said. “We’ve identified inconsistencies in Charlie’s behavior prior to his death.”

“I didn’t see any though. I don’t
know
anything.”

A bang from the apartment above caused Tabitha to jump. Samantha slammed her hands down on the table. “I don’t believe you. Tell us. There
must
be something.”

Jennings put a hand up again. “Okay, okay. Let’s just take a moment.”

“You’re not telling us everything,” Samantha said, teeth gritted. She fired a look at Jennings. “She’s not.”

Tabitha pushed the chair back and stood, fear washing over her pretty face. Samantha seemed ready to leap across the table and strangle her. “Excuse me for a moment.” She stepped away from the table, and disappeared down the hallway.

“That was stupid,” Jennings hissed. “You’re pushing too hard. I told you not to do that.”

“And I’m telling you she’s lying.”

“Just let me handle it, okay?” Samantha slumped back down in her seat, arms folded.

It was several minutes before Tabitha returned. Her face was blotchy, her eyes red. Jennings thought she’d probably been crying. He stood as she arrived and Tabby sat down. Samantha remained with her arms folded, lips pressed into a tight line. It was reasonable for someone who didn’t know of the circumstances to ask why Samantha wasn’t more upset that her husband had just died. As if hearing his thoughts, Samantha unfolded her arms and redirected her gaze.

Jennings said, “I’m sorry we have to do this now, but we’re chasing several important details.” Tabby nodded. “Charlie did some things contrary to company rules, and we’re trying to ascertain exactly who was involved and what happened.”

“Okay,” Tabby said. “And if I know something, I promise you I’ll help.” Her eyes never left Jennings’.

“Good. I just want to sum up what we’ve discussed for my own clarification. So you’ve told us that Charlie enjoyed working for the company—from what you could tell.” Tabitha nodded. “And apart from the odd gripe about how things were run, he wouldn’t have changed anything.” She tipped her head left and right to indicate that was close. “And you never noticed anything unusual in his behavior—no meetings with strange people, no police, or anything like that. Correct?”

“Charlie was a good man. He worked hard for the company and in almost every conversation we had, his intent to do the right thing was clear. He was loyal and reliable. I’ve heard you say that before, Mr. Jennings, and I know Mr. Fox believed it too because he told me how lucky I was to be working for Charlie.” She swallowed, feeling her dry throat catch. “If he did something against policy, I’m sure there was a good reason, but I know, given the incredible job he did, his credibility won’t be ruined by that one incident.”

Samantha watched her. “Listen,” she began, “I know you’re loyal to Charlie, but if you’re protecting him now, don’t. Charlie used to be a good man, but he did the wrong thing, and if we don’t fix it, all of us will suffer.”

Tabitha cupped her face in her hands and made a cry of anguish. She snatched them away. “If you’re waiting for me to tell you something else, you’ll be waiting forever. The only other things I have to say are how much I respected Charlie, and enjoyed working for him.”

Jennings sat looking at her for a long time. Samantha’s jaw clenched.

Finally, Jennings glanced at Samantha then back at Tabitha, and nodded. “Okay. Okay. I accept that, Tabitha.” Samantha’s stony face was impassive as Jennings continued. “I’m sorry we had to go through this. Like I said, we have many unanswered questions, and you were one of the last people to see Charlie alive. Your comments have been recorded for the investigation, and you shouldn’t hear anything more about it.”

Tabitha slumped forward, her shoulders sagging. Samantha’s face was a grim mask of anger.

Jennings stood. “Just one more thing, though.” Tabitha froze; eyes wide with expectation. “Did Charlie ask you to take home any work for him? It might have been an old storage drive.”

And then it happened. Tabitha’s eyes betrayed her and she glanced away. “Storage drive? I’ve heard the term before. What is that?”

“It’s just a little object about so long,” Jennings held up his thumb and forefinger, “that can transfer and store small amounts of data.”

She frowned. “I normally just sync my devices to the mainframe if Charlie wants me to work at home.”

Jennings’ left eye twitched and he held her gaze. “Old technology. Never mind. Before your time.” He caught Samantha’s eye and nodded towards the door.

Samantha led them towards the hallway, glancing back at both of them, as though she couldn’t believe the interrogation had finished. But Jennings had what he came for. Almost.

“We’ll see you on Monday then,” Jennings said as they waited for her to open the door.

She stepped between them, nodding. “Yes. Monday.”

“We’ll know more about what’s happening with Charlie’s role then,” Jennings said with a wide smile.

Tabby nodded again, opening the door. Samantha brushed past without acknowledgement, and Jennings followed. He turned in the doorway, facing her, and said, “Thank you for your time.”