Hiding in Plain Sight (9 page)

The conference table and filing cabinets had been photographed too, even though the table was bare
except for the stone eagle and the filing cabinets appeared to be locked and untouched. The books I'd seen on top of them seemed undisturbed. I noticed that there was a big fern and a spider plant on the cabinets, sitting at opposite ends. The fern looked like the one in Darla's office, and the spider plant, if I was right, was now in the reception area, hanging in the corner.

The window had been photographed from a number of angles, but there wasn't really much to see aside from the fact that it was broken.

There was a picture that puzzled me for a few moments — a big dark blotch on the carpet. Then I remembered Janine telling me that either the fridge or water cooler had leaked and they'd had to call in a repairman. I tossed that picture aside without wasting any more time on it.

The shots I spent the most time looking at were those of the safe. I'm not sure why I stared at those pictures so long, since they weren't likely to tell me anything. The big heavy door on the front of it hung open, and it was easy to see that the thief had been selective in what he or she had taken. Small stacks of envelopes and plastic cases holding computer disks sat in it practically undisturbed.

I closed my eyes and visualized the room, the long row of filing cabinets, the corner where the safe sat, the window, the desk, the water cooler, the table. I could
almost imagine myself in there, walking around, getting the feel of the place.

It didn't help.

After that, I spent a good hour flipping through page after page of statements from the staff. Basically, they all said the same thing — they didn't know anything and hadn't been involved. I drew each person's statement out of the pile one by one and read them carefully, beginning with Joey's.

No, he had no knowledge of the robbery. He'd been home at the time it occurred. No witnesses to his whereabouts. No idea as to who could have done it. I was struck by the totally disinterested tone of his answers and wondered how someone could spend all that time developing a program and then be so complacent about its loss.

The Yaegers said they'd been at home all night and had turned in early after watching their favourite movie — a copy of
Dead Poets Society
, which they owned. Hard to prove or disprove, I thought, unless they'd left the house and someone had seen them. Neither claimed to know anything about the theft and both agreed that there was no one they would suspect among the staff at NUTEC.

Angi's statement seemed to border on insolence in places. She denied any involvement and said she'd been with “a friend” at the time the crime was taking place but refused to give a name. She also went on record
that none of her co-workers were brave enough to commit a crime, which I thought was a strange way of saying she didn't think anyone at work had done it.

Darla, James, and Janine had been quite formal with their answers, responding briefly to each question in a simple, straightforward manner. All three claimed they'd been with family members, Darla and James with their spouses, and Janine with her sister, whom she went out of her way to describe as a highly trustworthy person. I smiled at that, since I'd previously heard Janine call her sister a backstabbing lowlife. I don't suppose that's something you'd want to say to the police about the person who was your alibi, though.

The last statement I looked at was Carol's, and it was a bit different from the others. The main thing that stood out was
how
she answered the questions. Although she didn't actually claim to know anything, her answers were vague and worded in a way that made it look like she was hiding something. It seemed pretty deliberate, and I figured she was using the robbery to get attention for herself in any way she could. As for an alibi, she said she'd been taking care of a neighbour. Apparently, she has a second job two nights a week, staying with an elderly woman. It looked like a solid alibi on the surface, but she'd admitted that the old woman had been in bed asleep from nine-thirty on, which meant she could have left and returned without
anyone knowing. Bleary-eyed, I put everything back into the file, then showered, brushed my teeth, and got ready for bed. It was barely ten o'clock by then, but I was bushed.

I crawled in, turned my lamp on, and picked up
Nobody's Child
by Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch, the awe-some novel I'd started recently. Before long I realized I was reading the same paragraph over and over without taking anything in, so I gave up and switched off the light. Just as I was falling asleep, I felt a thud as Ernie landed on the bed beside me.

“
T
hat woman is going to drive me crazy,” Janine hissed at me the next morning, when Carol once again arrived late and managed to turn her tardiness into a reason to give Janine a hard time. “Thank goodness she doesn't spend much time out here.”

I was about to say something consoling when Debbie spoke from the doorway of the office she shared with Stuart.

“Janine, could you take down a letter for me?”

“Sure, Deb. Shelby, would you get the phone if it rings while I'm not at my desk? Just do like I showed you if you need to send a call through to anyone's office. Otherwise, take down messages and I'll get to them when I'm done.”

I nodded and slid into her seat, feeling kind of important in the real receptionist's chair. I yawned and stretched
my arms over my head and then examined my nails. I'm afraid they needed a lot more work than Janine's.

Just then, the phone rang, nearly making me jump off my chair. I picked it up and said, “Good morning, NUTEC, may I help you?” as I'd heard Janine do.

“Stuart Yaeger, please.”

“Certainly, sir. May I tell him who's calling?”

“Bryan Balanski from Dymelle Enterprises.”

I pushed the button on the phone that would put the caller on hold while I rang Stuart's desk.

“Yes, Mr. Yaeger?” I said, trying to sound professional. “A Mr. Balanski is calling for you from Dymelle Enterprises.”

“Who? Oh, yeah. Uh, okay, put him through.”

I transferred the call, wishing I had some way of listening in on the conversation. I found myself staring at the light on the phone, as if knowing how long they spoke would tell me anything.

“Lost in thought?”

Startled for the second time, I found myself guiltily facing James, while warmth spread up my neck and across my cheeks.

“Nickel for your thoughts,” he said, smiling.

“I thought it was a penny,” I said. I wondered how flustered and red-faced I looked.

“Inflation. Anyway, where's Janine?”

“Taking dictation from Mrs. Yaeger.”

“Ah, well, when she gets back, tell her I'd like a few moments of her time.”

“Is there anything I could help you with?”

“Thanks, but I don't think so. You could tell her, though, that I'd like a printout of the activities of these accounts for the past six months.” He handed me a slip of paper with a list of names written on it.

“I'll let her know as soon as she gets back,” I said, hoping I sounded efficient.

“Great then.” He turned and walked back to his office, passing Carol in the hallway as he went.

“Where's Janine?” she asked, lumbering up to the desk.

“Taking dictation.”

“Well, I need her for a minute.” She looked at me angrily, as though I'd deliberately sent Janine off in order to inconvenience her.

“I'm sure she won't be much longer,” I said.

“The copier needs toner.” Her tone implied that once I understood the importance of her request, I'd hurry up and do something about it.

“She should be back any moment.”

“I can't make copies without toner!” Carol said, her voice rising. “I have to get my work done, you know.”

“Maybe I can help.” I stood, intending to go with her to the copy room, but she became visibly upset by the suggestion.

“No, you can't! Only Janine is trained for that.”

“Okay, well…” My words trailed off in relief as I saw Janine coming back down the hall.

“Janine, the toner is empty and this
girl
here wanted to put more in but I wouldn't let her.” Carol's voice was so different than it had been the few times I'd heard her speak before that I could scarcely believe it was the same person. All traces of her usual blustery aggression were gone, replaced with a whining, pleading sound.

“I'll get it, just relax,” Janine said. She disappeared back down the hall with Carol on her heels and came back alone a couple of minutes later.

“She dumped the toner powder in the wrong place once, and we had to service the machine, so now I always do it,” she explained to me as she slid into the chair I'd vacated for her. “She gets pretty freaked out if she can't get her copying done, though she's slower'n a snail at it anyway.”

“She acts really different when she needs help,” I observed.

“Yeah. I think it panics her when she can't do her work, because she hasn't been able to hold on to jobs in the past. Marion insisted when she came that we were going to give her an honest chance, since she's not very employable. I'd say we've done that all right. And it's not really all that bad since she mostly keeps to herself and does her copying and shredding and stuff.”

“Does she shred things that are related to new programs being developed?” I asked.

“Yeah, I guess. Whatever they've printed out that they no longer want, and anything that's confidential — like stuff they might print for presentations. After their meetings they collect up all the copies and send them for shredding right away.”

“But the details, the actual codes wouldn't be on anything they'd show at a meeting,” I said, thinking out loud. “They'd only present information on what a program did.”

“Whatever.” Janine gave me a strange look. “You sure ask about weird things. Who cares
what
Carol's in there shredding, as long as she's not out here bothering us.”

“You're right,” I said quickly. It was clearly time to change the subject. “So, are you taking any holidays this summer?”

“I already took my vacation the end of June,” she sighed. “I won't have any more time off until Christmas, though at least there are a few long weekends between now and then.”

“Oh!” I jumped up suddenly, which made her start in her seat. “I almost forgot. James, uh, Mr. Rankin wants you to take him the records of these accounts, going back for six months.” I passed her the paper he'd handed me.

“Okay.” She took the slip and glanced at it, then started typing to bring up the files. However disorganized she seemed, I had to admit she was fast on the computer. In just a few moments she'd sent all the records he'd asked for to the printer and it was zipping and whirring as it spewed out pages. She had me take them to his office when they were ready.

“Well, thanks, but I really need to see Janine for a minute,” he said, taking them from me. “Tell her I have questions I need answers to on a few of the billing codes so that I can set these up properly in the tax accounts.”

I gave her the message and took over the phone once again while she went off to give him the information he needed.

I was turning the Rolodex on the desk, reading through the names without any real idea of what I expected to find there, when the main door opened and a policeman stepped into the reception area.

“Officer Doucet!” I'd recently had some dealings with him when a friend disappeared. He'd been pretty decent to me — took me seriously and even came by to congratulate me when I'd figured out what was going on. Most importantly, he hadn't treated me like a kid.

“Miss Bel … uh … I want to say Bellflower but that's not right, is it?”

“Belgarden. Shelby Belgarden.”

“Yes, that's it — Belgarden.” He laughed a little at that, probably realizing it sounded silly for him to be confirming my own name for me. “Are you working here?”

“Uh-huh, I just started this week.”

“Then you weren't working here with the robbery took place. Or, maybe you haven't heard anything about it.”

“I've heard about it,” I said simply. No need to tell him I was supposed to be clearing the person they'd just arrested.

“Well, this is one we won't need any help solving,” he said, smiling. “We laid charges yesterday. Pretty open-and-shut case, really.”

“As much as purely circumstantial evidence can be,” I said. Why couldn't I just keep my mouth closed?

“Sounds like you've heard
all
about it,” he said. “And that maybe you don't agree with our conclusions.”

“I don't know,” I admitted. “It looks bad for her, I guess.”

“Ironclad,” he said grimly. “It's a shame to see a respected citizen involved in something like this, but the evidence is pretty convincing.”

“Have you considered other possibilities?” I asked.

“Sure, we look at everything in an investigation. But the bottom line is usually this: If it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck and walks like a duck, chances
are pretty good that it's a duck. No need to create a mystery where there is none.”

“What if there was something you'd overlooked because it seemed so cut and dried? What if you're sending an innocent woman to prison?”

“Well, you know, Shelby, we try to avoid locking up innocent folk. That's why we investigate carefully and look at every possible angle.”

“So, if someone brought something different to your attention — even if it went against your own conclusions, you'd look into it?”

“Of course.” He smiled widely and passed me his card. “In fact, to prove it, here's my card. You come up with something new, you call me. I'll listen.”