The Great Baby Caper (23 page)

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Authors: Eugenia Riley

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Chapter Twenty-eight

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After alerting several key staff
at corporate regarding the new calamity, Courtney had a quick lunch with Mark
and the children, and thanked him in advance for keeping them for the
afternoon. She rushed back to the office and called a meeting. Gathered around
her in the conference room where Gilchrist, Gideon, and Getz, along with the
corporate legal counsel, Milton Davies, PR manager Janis Jacobs, and head of
security, Lon Wilson.

“As everyone knows,” she began,
“in the last two days we’ve been hit by some rather bizarre industrial
espionage. Yesterday, it was grumpy face stickers appearing on the product line
at our Colorado Springs store, as well as an assault on our website. Today,
it’s an egg roll avalanche at our south Denver Store.”

Amid chuckles, Al Gideon held up a
hand. “Don’t laugh, folks. We’ll likely be out a couple of thou on those egg
rolls.”

Janis Jacobs followed with an
affirming nod. “Yes, indeed. Al, Milt and I spent our entire lunchtime chewing
the fat on this egg roll situation. Plus I had to go to great lengths to smooth
things over with one of the mothers. Seems her son had an MSG attack.”

“Oh, no. Is he okay?”

“Yes, but she was predictably
P.O.ed.”

Courtney nodded, turning to Lon.
“Were you able to track down the person or persons who called in the orders?”

The middle-aged balding man shook
his head. “Not yet, although I’ve already questioned a few of the vendors. A
couple had caller ID, but the numbers came up anonymous.”

“Great,” said Courtney.

“I’ll check out all the
restaurants, of course—and we might have better luck if we brought in the
police.”

Courtney considered this, then
shook her head. “No, first it will be the police, then the press. Let’s try to
keep a lid on this for now.”

“I agree,” put in Janis.
“Publicizing this might only invite copycats.”

Courtney groaned at that prospect.

“Dare we hope for chicken wings
next time?” quipped Wally Gilchrist, and again everyone laughed.

Janis tossed Wally a stern look.
“Al, Milt, and I agreed that we should go ahead and pay for the egg rolls. It’s
good P.R., and should insulate us from lawsuits from the restaurants.”

“Yes, that seems best.” Courtney turned
back to Lon. “Were you able to find out anything about the tampering with our
product line out at the warehouse?”

“Negative, Courtney. I went out
there yesterday afternoon, but I’m afraid I reached another dead end. The
distribution manager hired a temporary crew to package merchandise for the new
store. Then, according to the temp agency, some unknown person from corporate
cancelled the work order. No one at the warehouse or at corporate knew that the
order had been rescinded. A crew did show up claiming to be from the temp
agency, but it seems they were impostors who then planted the renegade stock
stickers, and no one was the wiser.”

“My heavens, how bizarre,”
declared Courtney. “But how could this counterfeit crew have even gotten into
the warehouse in the first place?”

“We’re very tight on security, but
when people show up from the temp agency, we generally take them at face
value.”

“Well, no longer,” Courtney
ordered. “I want security to be in a lockbox from now on.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“More importantly, why would
anyone do this?” Courtney asked, addressing the entire group. “And how would
they get enough access to our business procedures and online services to pull
it all off?”

“Obviously, the culprit must be
someone who knows a great deal about our company,” ventured Milton Davies, a
handsome white-haired man in his late fifties. “Perhaps a former employee with
a grudge.”

“Or a current one,” Courtney put
in meaningfully.

“Yeah,” agreed Gil Getz rather
nastily. “Plenty of us here have grudges.”

As a tense silence fell, Wally
Gilchrist asked, “What about one of our competitors?” He rattled off half a
dozen names. “They might target us, especially now that we’re going public. All
of this craziness could be just a cover for someone trying to hack our records
and scoop our product line.”

“Good point.” She shifted her gaze
to Lon. “Any suggestions as to how we find out?”

He mopped his brow with a
handkerchief. “I’m trying, Courtney, but this is a tall order. On top of all
these headaches, I’ve security for twelve stores to worry about—and three of
them brand-new.”

“Yeah—and from what’s been
happening for the past two days, you haven’t done a very good job,” groused Al
Gideon.

As Lon would have protested,
Courtney raised a hand. “Enough. We’re not going to solve this through
infighting.”

Milton spoke up again. “Courtney,
Lon’s right that we can’t expect him to take on all this. I’d suggest we hire a
private detective firm to do a thorough internal and external investigation,
and also bring on a digital forensic examiner, to try to winnow out the culprit
through cyberspace.”

“Great ideas.” She swung about to
Lon. “Are you willing to spearhead that with Milton?”

After glancing at the other man,
Lon nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Count me in, Courtney,” added Milton.

“Great. All right, then, everyone.
I’m counting on all of you to do your part and cooperate with Lon, Milton, and
Janis. I think we all have our work cut out for us. We’ll meet again in a
couple of days for progress reports.”

As the meeting broke up, Courtney
felt no closer to a solution than she had before. Nor had she picked up any
substantive hints regarding who on her staff might be involved. She did take a
moment to apologize to Wally Gilchrist for suspecting him, thank him for his
service, and wish him good luck at his new job.

That encounter went well, but then
Courtney stepped back inside her office to see M. Billingham himself sitting
behind her desk, smirking at her. “Well, young lady, how’s my grandson’s bride
doing today?”

Less than impressed by his banter,
Courtney shot him a warming look. “Please don’t start up with me today, Mr.
Bootle.”

“So married life isn’t agreeing
with you?” he teased.

“I don’t think that’s any of your
business. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

He stood, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Frankly, Courtney, I’m wondering if I
should
excuse you. Only a few
weeks on the job, and already you seem to be losing control of our
operations—that is, if the reports I’m hearing are true.”

Courtney was tempted to groan
aloud. Great, now M. Billingham knew about the tampering. The grapevine around
here was like greased lightning. She wondered who had spilled the beans to
him—probably his assistant, Mildred.

She realized there was no point in
denying the facts. “Very well, the reports are true,” she admitted tensely.
“We’re having a small problem with industrial sabotage.”

“Small?” he gasped.

“I’ve got it covered,” Courtney
went on coolly. “In fact, I’ve just come from a meeting where we’ve been
working on solutions.”

But M. Billingham appeared unconvinced
as he gravely shook his head. “You know, I thought I could entrust you with the
welfare of this company, Courtney, but now I’m not so certain.”

She stepped toward him. “Ah, so
you’re already prepared to renege on our deal?”

He thoughtfully scratched his jaw.
“You might say I’m having second thoughts. Besides, why deny yourself the
pleasure of being a full-time wife for my grandson?”

“Spoken like a true chauvinist,”
Courtney replied. “And just what I’ve been expecting from you. I’m sure you’ve
wanted this all along—for me to resign, rush home to Mark, and bake crumpets or
something. And perhaps you’ve conjured up a clever little intrigue to encourage
my departure.”

He appeared baffled. “Courtney, my
dear, whatever are you insinuating?”

She waved a hand. “You know
exactly what I mean! You with your penchant for practical jokes. Is this little
debacle with grumpy face stickers and egg roll deliveries simply your latest
attempt to undermine me, to make me throw up my hands and quit?”

He appeared stunned. “You think I
would submarine my own company?”

“In a New York minute, you would,
if it suited your purpose.”

“What purpose?”

“To boot me out the door.”

He laughed ruefully. “Boot you
out? I do love your penchant for double-entendre. Besides, Courtney, you give
me too much credit.”

“I think not.”

He shook a finger at her. “Such
spirit, Courtney. I’ll let your accusations pass for the moment. As to your
duties here, I think I’ll just give you enough rope to hang yourself.”

“Aha!” she cried. “So you admit
you engineered this latest disaster.”

“I admit nothing—except that
you’re skating on thin ice, my dear. Get a handle on this crisis, or you may
well reap the whirlwind.”

Courtney marched to her door and
opened it. “Thanks so much for the mixed metaphors. As always, a pleasure
seeing you, Mr. Bootle.”

She could hear M. Billingham’s
insufferable chuckles as he strode away.

***

When Courtney arrived back at the
apartment, the first thing she noticed was a handsome black leather suitcase
sitting next to the front door. Then she spotted Mark, on the floor playing
with both children, amid a pile of blocks.

“Hello,” she called. “You going
somewhere?”

“Hi, Aunt Cor’ney!” called Brittany.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Hi!” yelled Josh, waving a block.

Courtney smiled at the baby. “Hi,
darling.”

Mark stood and came to her side,
leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Hello, sweetheart. How was the meeting? Any
clues as to the culprit?”

“No, none, but we’re starting up a
thorough investigation.” She nodded toward the suitcase. “You didn’t answer my
question.”

“Oh, that.” He smiled sheepishly.
“I’m afraid I must make a quick hop to London.”

“A what?”

He scowled. “You’re not the only
one with business problems, and I’ve long neglected my own. This morning, I
received several urgent calls. It seems there’s been an unexpected hostile
takeover bid for Billingham’s.”

“Your clothing chain?”

“Yes. And my solicitors have
informed me I must be present for the stockholders’ meeting tomorrow in order
to convince some of our biggest investors to tough it out with us over the long
haul, rather than go for the quick profit of selling out to the sharks. Also,
my online bookstore is facing an audit from Inland Revenue. I’m afraid my staff
is rather sadly in disarray, and my latest executive assistant just threw in the
towel. I wish I could resolve it all from here, but I’m afraid it’s too much of
a muddle.”

“So you’re leaving?”

He touched her arm and gazed at
her earnestly. “Only for a few days. Look, I’m really sorry to leave you in a
lurch with the children. Normally I’d offer to take you with me, but that’s
clearly impossible under the circumstances. All I can do is to get back here as
soon as possible.”

Lowering her voice, she asked,
“And what am I supposed to do with these kids while you’re gone?”

“I noticed several good nanny
services in the yellow pages.”

“Great.”

“I’m sorry, love.” His expression
grew forlorn. “I’ll miss you terribly, you know.”

“Sure you will.”

“Look, I’ll hurry back.” He turned
to the children. “Children, come say good-bye.”

Brittany popped to her feet,
followed by Josh. “Are you leaving, Mark?”

“Just for a little while,
darling.”

Brittany rushed over to Mark, with
Josh crawling along behind her. Tugging on his shirtsleeve, she pouted, “But I
don’t want you to leave, and neither does Joshie.”

Mark hugged the little girl, then
scooped up the baby, who cooed and hugged Mark’s neck. “Don’t worry, loves,
you’ll have Aunt Courtney.”

Brittany glanced suspiciously at
Courtney, then crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t like Aunt Cor’ney. I
want my mama back.”

“Brittany,” admonished Mark. “I
know you miss your mama, but Aunt Courtney is nice, too.”

She grabbed his hand. “Okay, I
like her. But I like you best.”

Now Mark glanced at Courtney
almost helplessly. At once she smiled at Brittany. “Don’t worry, darling, we’ll
have lots of fun, and you’ll see Mark again soon.”

“Promise?” Brittany asked.

“Promise. Now tell Mark good-bye.”

“Okay. ’Bye, Mark,” Brittany said dully.

He leaned over and kissed her
forehead. “Goodbye, dear. Be good.” Turning to Courtney, he handed her the
baby. “Guess I’d best go.”

Realizing he really was leaving,
Courtney found herself consumed with turmoil, struggling to keep her emotional
balance. She deliberately stared toward the window. “Right. You don’t want to
miss your plane.”

His expression miserably torn, he
kissed her cheek, grabbed his suitcase, and left.

***

Courtney stewed afterward. How
could Mark leave her, especially when she was in the middle of such a mess?
Yes, he clearly had a crisis brewing with his business ventures at home, but
couldn’t he have anticipated this before he’d agreed to take on the children?
Now the entire responsibility had fallen onto her shoulders, at a time when she
was already stressed to the max.

But she tried not to show her hurt
feelings to the children—cheerfully playing with them, feeding them, bathing
them, and getting them to bed. But in the lonely evening hours, tears
threatened to come. Mark was her husband and the father of her child. He had
become an important part of her life, whether she liked it or not. Now,
suddenly, he was gone—his smile, his laughter, his kisses, his teasing, his
support. There was a big void in her life, in her heart, a void that she hadn’t
expected to feel at all—much less, so intensely.

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