“You don’t have to hurry on my account. I’m also fine if you want me to wait in the car.”
I flip some mascara over my lashes, smooth on some lip gloss, and walk out. “No, I’m ready. Do you mind if we stop at Starbucks?”
“I go where you want, not the other way around.”
After our Starbucks run, we walk to the office. Brian alerts the weekend security guard of where we’ll be and asks him to inform us of anyone coming upstairs. “I wouldn’t want to shoot anyone,” he explains.
Up on our floor, we get settled in. Brian has a book, and I start poking around on Jeremy’s computer. I notice he’s been talking to someone at our competitor, and they set up lunch plans. It’s a conversation that goes back and forth—they’re catching up to watch a football game and meeting at trade shows.
Each of their plans has a few errors. The football game was on my birthday, and they mention watching a Goldminers-Giants game. The Goldminers’ season was long over, and the Giants play baseball. I do a quick search and find the Giants haven’t even started yet.
I also don’t remember Jeremy going to any trade shows or processing any of his expense reports for a trade show.
I place a copy of some of the strange emails on a cloud server and keep going.
Heather’s email also has a few messages that seem out of place. I store them all in the cloud drive. Nothing points to anything in particular, and there’s no smoking gun. I’m a little disappointed but not really surprised. If they’re up to no good, they wouldn’t be doing it on their company email.
My office phone rings, and it’s the security guard. “Mr. Knowles is on his way up.”
“Thank you.”
I alert Brian and quickly move to a new file and pretend I’m working on something else. The elevator pings, and I look up as the doors open. Jeremy and I lock eyes.
He stops short, seeming surprised to see me. “What the hell are you doing here?” he grumbles.
Brian stands up, and when Jeremy spots him, his demeanor changes from aggression to ignoring my existence.
“Thank you,” I mouth to Brian, and he nods.
Jeremy goes into his office and shuts the door. He’s never been in the office over the weekend even once in the year I’ve worked here. He works long days, but I can’t remember a weekend.
Opening a mirror image of his computer, I watch Jeremy open the presentation, patent application, and research file from our recent solar film venture and begin copying them to a private cloud drive. They’re big files, so it takes some time. It’s so quiet that I can hear him on the phone. I can’t make out who he’s talking to or exactly what he’s saying, but I hear him murmur.
I pick up my phone and text Jackson.
Me: I’m at the office. Jeremy just walked in and is copying the presentation, patent ap, and research file from your new venture to a private cloud drive.
I send the text and take a picture of my screen that shows the download.
Jackson: Is Brian with you?
Me: Yes.
Jackson: Make sure Jeremy doesn’t leave. I’m on my way.
Me: OK
I look at Brian. “Mr. Graham doesn’t want Jeremy to leave.”
He nods and takes his cell phone from his pocket. It must have vibrated because he looks at it.
I continue to watch what Jeremy is doing. He opens up File Explorer and begins deleting files from his computer and the server.
I frantically start writing the file names down. They’ll be in the backup on the server, but this will at least let us know what Jeremy’s erased. When I can’t keep up, I do the only thing I can think of and begin recording a video from my cell phone, watching as the files disappear.
A few minutes later, the elevator pings its arrival, and Jim walks in with two big, burly men and Jackson behind them.
Silently I point out what Jeremy is doing and continue to write the file names down.
Jeremy’s office door opens suddenly, and he seems stunned to see so many people standing with me.
“What’s going on?” He tries to play it cool and puts his hand in his pocket, but then pulls it out.
The elevator pings again and four policemen step out with a man with disheveled dark hair dressed in rust-colored corduroy pants and a green plaid shirt under a khaki overcoat.
“Detective,” Jim says.
Jeremy’s eyes grow big.
“Do you want to tell us why you copied all the research, the patent application, and the presentation for funding for the solar film?” Jackson asks.
Jeremy pushes his shoulders back. “What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything like that.” He gives me a look that would make most people wither.
I smile because not only did I watch him do it and report it, but I took pictures and video. I hand my cell phone to Jackson.
Jackson’s eyebrows rise. “Why were you deleting files from the server?”
“What do you mean?”
“Here’s a list of most of what he deleted.” I hand a piece of paper to Jackson.
He looks at the list and shows it to the detective. “The files you deleted are all the research on the new venture that was just funded this week.”
“I clean up my files all the time,” Jeremy rants. “There’s nothing wrong going on here.”
“Why don’t we go down to the station to clear this up,” the detective offers.
“I’m not going with you,” Jeremy says.
The detective shrugs. “I can take you in handcuffs, if you prefer.” Jeremy’s shoulders fall. “Don’t worry. You can call your attorney after we get there and you’ve been
