in his chair as he watched Hannah ball the paper towel and lob it toward the trash can. “Now, that’s the best offer I’ve had in two weeks.”
“The ladies of Gallem not lining up at your door? You must be losing your touch.”
He spotted Hannah’s slim, sexy form pass by the small window of his door. No friendly wave, no courtesy smile from one employee to another. Yeah, she didn’t like him. For the first time today he felt a chill.
“Having a dry spell.” The show was over. Ward sat straight in his chair, and checked out the employee files. “Is Grace hassling you about leaving? After all, that’s why you took that desk job.”
“It’s just an overnighter, and I think she’s actually looking forward to me being out of her hair for a bit.”
“Great. Come by the office Saturday, and I’ll introduce you to corporate hell.” Ward replaced the receiver. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his black, spiral-bound notepad. Research telephone ring. He flipped the pad closed, and returned it to his pocket. Maybe he could find the phone’s manufacturer on the Web tonight at his rental. Case or no case, some things had to come first.
He’d learned his lesson. He’d get this little situation solved, criminals would be deposited in jail cleanly, and he’d do what he could to get back on James’s good side. He knew she couldn’t hold a grudge against him for too long. After all she’d mentored him since he left the Marines to join the Bureau.
He knew he’d really pissed the top lady off, parading those men through her office. But was it worth this?
As the newly hired security chief at P&L, he had an office to himself. He didn’t know who to thank for that small favor. Outside stood rows and rows of battered metal desks without a single cubicle divider. How could the bankers get anything done? At some point, the walls had been painted a hue between blue and green. Why, he could only guess.
The whole place buzzed with nonstop corporate team building. If he heard one more inspiring little snippet over the office speaker, he’d cut the wires himself. As if the framed motivational posters weren’t bad enough.
The FBI had lucked out when Arvest Lane had created the security position in the Gallem office. Over the course of the last six months, someone had been manipulating government money through P&L. Straight into a nice little offshore account.
Uncle Sam didn’t like people to steal his money. Neither did Ward. Finding the culprit wouldn’t be difficult. Just very, very time consuming with lots of paperwork. Yeah, James really knew how to turn the screws.
A week ago, Ward moved into the position, and no one in P&L knew his real identity. For all intents and purposes, he was the security chief, with all the perks, including access to the employee files. He’d read through them a dozen times. Searching for clues.
Hannah’s rested on top. He lifted her résumé with the tiny photo of her stapled to the corner. The grainy picture was not the best quality. But it didn’t obscure her high cheekbones or the lushness of her full lips. Lips that made a man’s mind wonder.
Despite her beauty, her eyes were what always drew him. He wouldn’t call them cold, but a coolness lingered in the green depths. When hounded by the male employees, she was quick with a glare of irritation. That was the only emotion she ever revealed.
Yet Hannah’s eyes gave her away. Something…guarded some deep pain tinged those haunting eyes of hers. He planned to ferret out all her secrets.
First things first, assess the current situation. He wanted her. And even though they’d rarely made eye contact, he sensed she was attracted to him, and that it bothered her. A lot. A swell of satisfaction infused his gut. He liked the idea of her experiencing the same kind of frustration he did.
“Knock, knock.” Ward glanced up to see his office visitor. He never really trusted a man who said knock, knock rather than actually knocking. Dan Protter, the Protter of Protter and Lane, walked through the door.
Ward schooled his features, cloaking himself in the persona of Ward Coleman. His new boss more than likely expected a man in charge of security to look, well, secure. Ward did his best to live up to the man’s expectations.
In fact, strutting around the office acting macho, fulfilled his own dreams of what a federal agent should be doing. That lonely Marine lying in his bunk all those years ago had no idea that a fed’s life wasn’t so much chasing the bad guy and getting the girls. It was more about tackling a pile of paperwork and wrestling it to the ground. And there would be paperwork to spare with this P&L investigation.
But those times he did chase the bad guy made up for it all. The girl never stuck around for long. An odd twinge of disappointment surprised him. Whether the emotion came from the women not staying or the fact that he cared little if they did, he didn’t know.
“TGIM, Ward.” Dan handed Ward a coffee cup. “No cream, no sugar.”
“Thanks.” Ward never developed a liking for Mondays, or coffee, but he took a swig to satisfy Dan. He swallowed quickly. Coffee had about as much appeal to him as liquid dirt. Still, he did have a cover to keep, and this particular cover required him to act the tough guy. A guy who drank his coffee strong, preferably with the grounds still in.
Dan angled himself off Ward’s desk. He sensed his new boss liked being around him. Ward’s presence more than likely added a bit of danger in Dan’s dully familiar world of investment banking. “I’ve gone over the new security measures you suggested,” Dan said.
Though Ward’s job was a means to an end, how could he leave here without implementing a few security procedures? He had standards, and leaving this particular job undone defied his sense of professionalism. Dan, and the rest of the investment firm, would luck out.
“The ID badges and password protection will work. But the new alarm system…we’ve got to keep our eye on the budget. Perhaps with a few well-written memos to the teams. Last year we left little notices in the break room. That solved the old food in the refrigerator problem quite nicely.”
The various employees would be forever in Ward’s debt if he prevented even one of P&L’s infamous memos. He resisted the urge to ball his fists and forced a smile instead. “Dan, I’ve found the back door propped open twice now with a smashed soda can. The supply-room door is never shut and almost every employee in this office has a key to the outside fire door.”
“We prefer team members. Remember, a sand castle is only as strong as every grain.”
Good thing he’d already swallowed his coffee. He gestured outside his door with his cup. “There are over thirty team members out there who could care less about the half mil you’ve got socked away in equipment and supplies. An alarm and key card system is the only sure way of monitoring entry.”
“Let’s try the memo first.”
Ward squared his shoulders ready to press his point. The leather from his shoulder holster poked him in the blade as he moved, reminding him why he was really here.
He settled back against the soft fabric of the executive chair. He sure didn’t have anything like this kind of comfort in his office at the Bureau. Ward relaxed his shoulders. It wasn’t as if this was his real job. No need to get worked up. If P&L wanted to open the window and strew cash bills into the wind, hey, it was their call.
Ah, but then this might actually settle out to his advantage. An idea popped into his head. “Why don’t I meet with everyone on an individual basis? I’m new, and that would give me an opportunity to introduce myself, and share with each team member the importance of security.”
“Good idea. We’ll have a memo sent around right after lunch. Time to make some money.” Dan picked up his coffee cup and left.
Ward shook his head. He’d read up on Dan Protter before arriving. The man could make money the way other men made a mess in the sink. No effort and little worry. His problem was spending it. He had that fuzzy,