Five

DAR FOLLOWED HER officious guide down a long, gray carpeted hallway, passing offices on either side full of paper covered desks. Eyes looked up as they passed, then dropped, and Dar sensed a feeling of reti-cence that made her spine prickle.

“Nice office,” she commented.

Sue glanced at her. “Thank you.” She led the way into a larger room, full of cables and other telecommunication gear. “Roger?”

A tall, lanky man in a painfully white shirt and blue pants ducked his head from under a rack. “Yes? Oh.” He straightened up and ran his fingers through bushy brown hair, blinking out from behind a pair of very thick glasses. “Can I help you?”

“The new company sent a technician over to start getting us hooked up to them.” Sue waved Dar forward. “All yours.” She turned and walked out, leaving them regarding each other.

“Hi,” Dar finally said. “So you’re Roger, huh?”

He seemed to realize he was staring. “Ah…um…yeah. Hi. Roger Milken. Yeah. And um…there’re a couple of others around here. Bill, and Tom and Squeeziks.”

One of Dar’s eyebrows lifted. “All right.”

He scratched his neck under an ill-fitting collar. “Did you want to see something or…um…what’s your name, anyway?”

Dar held out a hand, deciding on her middle name rather than the label Kerry had pinned on her. “Katherine.” She released him. “I’d like to see your setup. W…they’ve got certain things they like to see before they let you connect.”

“Mmph. Okay.” Roger waved at her. “C’mon. I’ll give you the five cent tour. Watch your step. We’re redoing the patch panel.”

Dar strolled along behind him, her eyes taking in the room’s equipment and evaluating it as he rambled on about the hardware. An NT

server farm, a chugging AS400, and a bank of routers on one side of the room, with the rack of Ethernet hubs mounted next to them. “Nice.”

“Uh. Thanks. Yeah, this is the main box.” He indicated the AS400.

“We keep all the database stuff in there. And that’s our webserver and we just got these two new Cisco 7000’s…”

“Mmm.” Dar stopped in front of the routers and leaned on the con-Eye of the Storm 39

sole that programmed them. She idly signed into one and browsed its statistics. “Send a lot of traffic out?”

“Uh, yeah. They do lots of searches. That kinda thing.” Roger now sounded just a touch evasive. “You know.”

“Mmm.” Dar pointed. “What about those?”

“Oh, that’s the SQL servers. I wrote ’em.” Roger walked over and signed into one. “See? It runs concurrent copies. Saves all the stuff to the RAID arrays. They go bonkers about downtime.”

Dar signed out of the router and patted it. “Firewall?”

“You bet.” Roger went to the next machine. “All our access in and out is logged. Make sure no one’s downloading nudie pics.” He laughed lamely. “So. What is it you want so we can get hooked up?”

Dar sat down on a chair. “Got a pad?” She started listing off require-ments as he scrambled for a pen.

KERRY CAUGHT UP with the fair haired, heavyset woman as they took a break, and wandered into the coffee room. The clients had been quiet, almost passive, and she’d been curious about the attitude which seemed more cowed then anything else.

“Hi.”

The woman glanced at her. “Oh, hello. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name in there.”

“Kerry.” They shook hands. “I’m with ILS.”

The faded hazel eyes darted around the almost empty room, then settled back on Kerry’s face. “Oh.”

“We…um…we bought Allison Consulting. You knew that, right?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I did. Um…excuse me. I’ve just got to use the rest room.” The woman edged around Kerry’s slim form.

“Me too,” Kerry agreed pleasantly. “C’mon. It’s this way.” She guided the way to the bathroom and held the door open politely. “That’s a nice dress.”

The woman looked a little startled. “Um, why, thank you.” She walked to the sink, turned the water on, and washed her hands quietly.

Kerry waited, leaning against the door with both hands behind her.

“So, are you here just to watch?”

“Something like that. To observe. To get reports. Start putting things together, that kind of thing,” Kerry replied. “Find out what they do right.

What they do wrong.” She watched the broad shoulders twitch. “Why they’re successful.”

The woman slowly straightened, wiping her hands on a paper towel.

“Is that why your company bought them? Because they were successful?”

“Mmhm,” Kerry agreed. “There’s always a lot of questions to ask, though. We want to make sure we give their clients the service they contracted for.”

Hazel eyes turned and regarded her with an emotion startlingly like wan hatred. Kerry’s nape hairs prickled and she wondered what nerve 40 Melissa Good she’d struck.

“And he promised it wouldn’t go any further,” the woman hissed, advancing on Kerry. “Now all of you know? That bastard…”

“Hold on.” Kerry lifted a hand. “I’m not sure—”

“Get out of my way, you little…” The woman grabbed Kerry’s arm and shoved hard, throwing her against the door. “If it’s over, it’s over.

He’s going to get what I owe him.”

“Wait!” Kerry caught her balance, confused and startled. “Ms.

Andrews. Please. Hold on a minute. I think there’s some mistake.” She took hold of the hand that reached for her again and held it, tensing muscles strengthened by months of activity. “Please don’t do that again.”

The woman tried to wrench her hand free, but found it held very securely. “Let me go, you bitch.”

“Ms. Andrews, I am not your enemy,” Kerry told her forcefully.

“Now calm down, please.” She kept her voice low. “Just take it easy.”

They stared at each other in silence.

“Okay. Now, listen. We know something’s going on here. We just don’t know what it is yet.”

“We?”

“My boss and I, yes,” Kerry replied. “So, if you tell me what happened, maybe I can help.” She released the woman’s arm and straightened, just as the door opened and Ann breezed in.

“Well, well. Is this a party?” the petite executive inquired, with a smile. “Getting an early start, aren’t you, Ms. Stuart?”

“I’m not one for parties.” Kerry opened the door and waited for Ms.

Andrews to escape out in front of her. “Excuse me.”

“Funny.” Ann chuckled. “That’s not what I heard.”

Kerry watched her enter a stall and close the door, and she backed out, pausing in the hallway to consider the words.

Wondering what they’d meant.

Suspecting it was nothing good.

“SO.” SAM LEANED back in his chair. “What did you think?”

Kerry stood near his office window, gazing out. Now, she turned and leaned against the wall. “They seem very quiet.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, they’re nice enough folks, but not very lively.”

“I was a little surprised they didn’t question some of the outline, though.” Kerry watched him carefully.

“Really? Why?”

She folded her arms. “Because most of it was bullshit.” The words were spoken matter-of-fact. “You can’t deliver the services you sold them and they’re being left without any back up whatsoever.”

“Now, you look—” Sam’s face darkened.

“So either those clients were completely ignorant, or they were being quiet for a reason.” Kerry crossed her ankles. “I think you’d better level with me, Mr. Gershwin.”


Eye of the Storm 41

Hostility bristled across the desk at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kerry shrugged. “You can say that. But I need to tell you we’re going to eventually find out what’s going on and what it was that woman was so afraid would get out.”

Sam Gershwin went very still, as he studied her in silence. “You sure you want to do that, Ms. Stuart?” he finally asked. “If I were you, I’d just leave things alone. You’ll be a happier person for it, I promise you.”

Kerry chewed the inside of her lip, wondering how far she should push. “I’m not sure what you mean by that.”

He steepled his fingers. “Aren’t you? Perception is such a fluid thing, Ms. Stuart. I’m sure your company has a perception of you as a fine, upstanding woman, a credit to their reputation, don’t they?”

A chill ran up Kerry’s spine. “Is that a relevant question?”

“Well,” he stood up and strolled towards her, “it’s your job to use your judgment, isn’t it? To find a way to, oh, bring us in the fold, so to speak. They must think highly of your decision making skills, don’t they?”

“Yes, they do.”

Sam stopped and leaned against the wall next to her, his taller form throwing a shadow over her body. “Would it take much to change that?

Say…what if they found out their fine, upstanding operations director…oh, got drunk and had to be carried out of a bar? Hmm?”

Kerry’s eyebrow lifted. “The subject’s not likely to come up, so I have no idea how they’d react.”

“Really?” Sam smiled. “Well, I’ve got ten people who’ll swear that’s exactly what happened last night, little Ms. Kerry.”

The reaction wasn’t what he expected. Kerry burst into laughter.

“You’re not seriously threatening me with that, are you?”

He was a little disconcerted, but retained his slightly mocking attitude. “Is it so farfetched? You’re a pretty little thing and I bet you know how to have fun, don’t you?” Then he picked up a folder on his desk and flipped it open. “And they say a picture’s worth a thousand words.”

Kerry glanced at the folder, then blinked, startled to see an image of herself, very obviously out of control in an unfamiliar setting. “Nice piece of editing,” she finally stated, her voice taking on a harder edge. “What’s your point?”

“Ah.” He smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Tell you what. It’s really easy, and no skin off your nose, Ms. Kerry. You just put in a nice report on us and go on your merry way, and we’ll just never have had this conversation.”

“And if I don’t?” Kerry asked.

“Then I’ve got no choice but to contact your boss and put in a formal protest. I can’t have my company being evaluated by someone who shows such…lapsed judgement.” He lifted the picture. “What would your boss say about that, hmm?”

Kerry rubbed her jaw. “I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to ask her,”


42 Melissa Good she told him, her chin lifting in challenge as she met his gaze. “But you’re putting your eggs in a flimsy basket, Mr. Gershwin.”

“Am I?”

“You’re assuming I was alone last night.” Kerry smiled.

He laughed in delight. “Oh, that’s even better. You’re going to pull out some flannel shirted bum you found in a bar to defend you?” He snapped the folder shut. “If that’s the way you want to play it, fine.” He looked up as the door opened and a tall, dark haired form slipped in.

“Excuse me, but this is a private meeting.”

Dar continued across the room, with every step shedding her casual persona and taking on the dynamic fierceness that was part and parcel of who she was. “Meeting’s over,” she enunciated sharply. “You’ve got six minutes to pick up your personal effects and be out of the building.”

“What?” Gershwin stared at her. “Have you lost your mind? Get the hell out of my office before I call security. Who in the hell do you think you are?”

Dar pointed a thumb at her own chest. “Me? I’m Dar Roberts.” She paused for delicious moment. “And you’re unemployed. Now get out.”

She got between the comptroller and his desk. “My people have all your accounting records and the client files and by the time they finish sifting it for chargeable offenses, you’re going to be more than out of a job.”

He was in shock. “You’re Dar Roberts?”

Dar pulled her wallet from her back pocket, fished her Florida driver’s license out, and showed it to him. “Three minutes.” She poked a finger at him. “Out.”

“You’re out of your mind. You can’t just walk in here and fire me,”

Gershwin rasped. “I’ll slap a lawsuit on you so fast…”

Kerry picked up the folder on the desk. “Hmm, yeah. This’ll make an interesting exhibit when I testify.” She showed the picture to Dar. “This is where I was last night.”

Dar took one look at the picture, then at Sam, putting two and two together and going from irritated rumpled executive to borderline murderous lover in the blink of an eye. “You stinking son of a…” She stepped forward and curled her hands in his lapels as she shoved him against the wall.

“Get your hands off me you…”