at Ester’s. We did.
Em stared at me with her blue eyes, and I glanced out of the window, noticing how much her new blue BMW matched those eyes. Was it intentional?
“You boys are in trouble. Up to your eyeballs. I can see it, and I can smell it.”
James frowned. “I wouldn’t say we were in trouble. It’s just that your boyfriend may have overextended our abilities.”
I nodded. There was a lot of truth in that statement.
“And you called me because?”
I’d promised James I wouldn’t tell her that he’d made the suggestion. “I think you bring a clear head to the table.”
Em smiled, self-consciously pulling her hair back behind her ears. “A clear head?”
“Yeah.” I took a long swallow of coffee, trying to clear my head.
She shifted her gaze to my roommate. “And you, James? Do you think I have a clear head?”
I swear, I know that they have a real problem with each other, but there are times when it’s almost like they’re flirting.
“It’s clear enough, Emily.”
“So explain the problems.”
I did. As embarrassing as it was, I told her how I’d finally got myself trapped. I wanted to leave out major parts of the story, but I told her everything. Except the story about Sarah being a hooker. I know, I know, it’s an important part of the story, but it just didn’t seem important at the time. And I’m sure that Em would have really had a problem with that issue.
She sat back and closed her eyes.
“Em.” Sitting next to her, I put my hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She breathed deeply. “Look, I knew most of this, but it seems to have escalated quite a bit. I mean, there’s a lot to digest here.”
She had at least grasped that.
“I mean, first of all, going to Carol Conroy tomorrow with that card-I mean she’ll know right away that you’re not having an affair with Sarah. Her husband is.”
That’s one reason I love her. She gets to the point.
“But there’s so much more to this. Carol Conroy thinks she’s marked for murder. She thinks that Ralph Walters, Tony Quatman, and his secretary may have been killed, and you’re being followed by this gray Honda. I mean, guys-”
“So you’re just as confused as we are.” James had half a smile on his face.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I wanted her to elaborate.
“This company, Synco Systems, has one big project. Right?”
I stared out the window, seeing the empty parking lot. “It’s all we know about.”
“It’s a federal government project, right?” She took a sip of her coffee. Two creams and a packet of Splenda.
“It is.” James sounded cynical. He was wondering about his decision to include Em.
“Let’s back it up to that project, okay?”
I wasn’t on the same page. I must have looked like I didn’t understand.
“Tell me again about the government project.”
I figured if I was in charge of the security installation, I should be the one to tell her about the Department of Defense project. “Synco Systems is banking on a project for the Department of Defense. This system is supposed to protect the Department of Defense from any outside intrusion.”
“There was this big retail chain that had all their customers’ credit information on their computers.” James had jumped in, leaning over the table. “Two guys in an old Pontiac used a laptop in one of this company’s parking lots, and they stole all this personal information. All from a wireless laptop. It’s crazy. The FBI got lucky and found them before they could sell the information.”
“So this system is supposed to stop that from happening?”
I chimed in. “It is.”
“Guaranteed to stop anyone from stealing information from the Department of Defense.”
“That’s the general idea, Em.” I’d gone over it twice now.
“That’s where it starts, guys. If Ralph Walters was killed, it goes back to this project.”
“You think?” James looked puzzled.
“If you’re being followed, it goes back to this project. The GPS unit on your truck? Same thing. The disappearance of Tony Quatman, his secretary, and her husband? Department of Defense project.”
“You know this?” James appeared to be amazed.
She tilted her head and stared at him. “Of course not. What do you think I am, a psychic?”
“But you just said-”
“Problem solving one-o-one, James. When faced with a problem, you have to go back and start at a certain point. As far back as you can go. In this case, that starts when Skip sold the job. The reason for the sale? A contract with the Department of Defense. So we’ll start there.”
“You sound so confident.”
“I have no clue. But you two-you don’t even have a starting point. Now I’ve given it to you.”
“So your theory could be all wrong.”
“Could be.”
The gray Honda drove slowly past the restaurant. It took me by surprise, but I could swear that the driver slowed down, and even though I couldn’t see him, or her, it appeared they were checking out the parking lot. Probably looking for our truck or my car. It was time to check for another GPS unit. This spy versus spy thing was getting old.
“James-” I motioned to the window and he looked.
“I checked the truck before we left Synco, amigo. No GPS.”
“So what are you going to do about the card and Carol Conroy?” Em went right back to the problem at hand.
“If I give it to her, she’ll know I’m a phony. She’ll be totally aware that Sarah is not dating me. And, she’ll have evidence that her husband is having an affair.”
“That’s what she’s paying you for, Skip.” Now she sounded like a mother.
“Yeah, but when I give it to her I’ve effectively lost that part of the job. She may fire me from the security job for leading her on, and she may cancel the contract we’ve got with Synco Systems.”
Across the table, James looked glum. I wasn’t feeling so good about it myself. We needed the job.
“I lose the bonus from Sarah, my commission on the sale, the bonus from Carol Conroy, and I’ll probably be fired from my job. Other than that-”
“So don’t give it to her.” Em sipped at her sweet, creamy beverage. “That’s the answer, right?”
“Like you said, I’m being paid to-”
“You’re being paid to listen and report. Smart move, Skip. Tell her about the conversation on the phone. The one about codes, about Ralph Walters and Tony Quatman. Give her a written report. If you have to, transcribe the conversation. Tell her that you can’t release the recording due to technical reasons. The machine had a short in it and you can’t get it to play back again. But you have the basic information.”
I was formally put in my place. I couldn’t believe my girlfriend had figured it out over coffee.
“You know President Richard Nixon used to tape conversations in the Oval Office at the White House. And when he was called on by Congress to produce the tape of a conversation he had that was somewhat incriminating, they found that seventeen crucial minutes had accidentally been erased. We read about it in history class. Remember? But I’m sure you guys already figured that out. You’ve got a way to get rid of the phone call from Sarah. It’s the only solution, right?”
“Yeah.” James nodded his head up and down, up and down, up and down. There was such a thing as overdoing it.
“Sure. We just wanted to know what you thought.”
