Chapter 5

The jeweled cane goaded Kade. Platinum engraved down its length. Inside the rows, diamonds caught the light from the chandelier. An egg shaped sapphire perched on the top. It reminded him of a pimp.

Kade blinked as Joshua Westridge's jeweled cane flashed into his eyes while he strolled toward the Human Resources office for his first interview. The résumé had worked, now he just needed to pass the HR and Sales Manager interviews. Kade rubbed a hand instinctively at his side, where he usually kept his gun and holster. He felt empty without his gun, but he couldn't bring it with him due to the metal detectors inside Westridge. At least this was a nonviolent situation... or so he hoped.

Apparently sensing his discomfort from the cane's glare, the CEO flashed a grin. Caps, unnaturally white teeth that brought shame to any whitening gel. His smile made Kade think of a cat who knew a mouse was near. But Westridge didn't know him, or that he was undercover investigating him and his company. Kade, in a suit and playing the part of a job seeker, gave Westridge a nod as he walked past.

Wouldn't catch me in a suit by my choice, but it's a necessity for this undercover

assignment. Except for a funeral - he'd worn one to Sid's. His partner's widow thanked him for keeping Sid alive as long as he had. She started crying and rambling about all the times Sid had told her about close calls and Kade saving him. But he hadn't saved him when it mattered.

Tomorrow, Paul would review the case with Westridge down at headquarters.

Tackett had arranged for Kade to be snuck in the back and observe behind the two-way mirror. Kade plastered a smile on his face as he pushed open HR's door. A woman, good. He was better at flattery than striking up camaraderie.

***

Behind the two-way mirror at the police station, Kade frowned as he looked at all the board members around the table who squirmed in metal chairs. Even though it was a Sunday, they were all dressed in suits and ties and looked as though they were sitting on fire ant mounds.

Where they nervous about the investigation, or just ready to leave and go bang their mistresses? He was sure half of them had at least one. They all looked sleazy to him despite their thousanddollar clothing. And he doubted their suits were from going to church that morning.

Today Kade wore jeans with the hem frayed and a black t-shirt - his last day before going corporate, his last chance to wear comfortable clothes. He'd nailed the interviews and would start tomorrow. Too bad Paul already was familiar with Westridge and the case. He was comfortable in a suit. Tomorrow, Kade would do whatever was necessary to solve this case.

Westridge, he suspected, was a man used to getting his way; or paranoid. Being undercover, at least, gave Kade the opportunity to pretend not to be a cop - especially around women. Some liked it, but there were always more who didn't want to be involved.

Kade glanced over the photo of the board members and their names, then back at the conference table behind the two-way mirror.

Earlier, Paul had Westridge and his board sit in the conference room. Then he drew on a piece of paper the names and locations around the table. Kade glanced down at the paper to reference who was who. Jacob Warren was at Westridge's left corner. The man looked shrewd with a large nose and eyes that kept darting around the room. Another man, Maxmoore, tapped his fingers on the table and it looked like he picked or bit his nails to the quick.

None of the men looked like they appreciated sitting in a police interrogation room in metal chairs where countless criminals had sat before them.

Clive Owens, another board member, raked his fingers through his sparse hair. His round glasses made Kade think of Bruce Lee's nerdy disguise in the Chinese Connection. But this middle aged man was no Bruce Lee. Kade noticed Owens' hands held a tremor.

He didn't blame the man for nerves. Rumors had been spread on purpose about Owens' upcoming party... bait for a thief.

The master bedroom, which held Owens' safe, stood off and away from the crowd on the third floor. A surveillance team would watch from the neighbor's house. Paul would be a guest.

The thief would have to either attend the party, or scale the wall outside. They hoped by staging this party it would lure the thief in, rather than him pick another day or house to break-in.

It was a gamble, but there were few board members who hadn't been targeted yet. A rare Mayan bowl showing a blood sacrifice to be sent home with the Executive's mother that night was purchased to sweeten the trap.

"Now, I need a list of suspects." Paul's pen scratched across the paper while he spoke.

"Friends, relatives, enemies, anyone who has a connection with you."

Clive inhaled and Joshua, the CEO, snapped his head in his direction. The exchanges between them remained silent, but made Clive whip his head into a nod like one of those bobblehead dolls.

Kade sipped his coffee while he watched behind the mirror making mental observations. His ability to do this far outweighed taking notes. If he set his mind to remember faces, names, and details, he could do so with more accuracy than if he took notes. Probably one benefit he gleamed from being in a gang - he had to size people up and remember.

"I know this may seem extensive, but someone out there has a grudge against you or your company." Paul straightened his tie. "An ex-employee?"

Joshua Westridge opened his briefcase and hauled out a stack of files. "All our HR records for the last sixteen years of employees who have left under - unfavorable circumstances."

"Going back that far is not productive right now." Paul twirled the pen along his fingers.

If Kade was in the interrogating room he'd say it was ludicrous this early in the investigation. But Westridge couldn't know he was investigating them from the inside to figure out why a thief might target them.

"I've my reasons."

Kade straightened. So he was suspicious of someone? Who? His irritation rose that Paul didn't ask the question, but merely sat back.

"Early on... there were a few disgruntled employees." Westridge caressed his jeweled cane. "Though I thought the matter was taken care of... by my lawyer and the courts, but those who would do this is long." Westridge gestured at this list.

"I have all the documentation from your lawyer on the suits and court cases." Paul

grabbed the files and flipped through a few of them. "This may take a while."

"Gentlemen." Westridge snatched his cane and rose. The other members of the board stood as well, including Paul like he was a trained lap dog. "Let us know if we may be of any assistance. Anything." Westridge marched from the room, not needing his cane at all.

The other members followed behind.

Paul motioned he would meet Kade in the police recording room. Once Westridge and the others had left the station; Kade walked through the side door and sat down across from Paul.

"Have you heard anything from Westridge's HR about your job there?" Paul asked.

"I got the call when you were escorting Westridge inside." He raised his Styrofoam coffee cup in toast. "Start tomorrow. I think Tackett's fake letters of recommendation paid off." Kade reached across the desk and dragged a few of the files closer. "Let's cross off anyone over the age of sixty. Unless they've hired someone, I don't picture an elderly person scaling a three story mansion." No, they needed a smaller scope to start with. "At least these are in alphabetical order, and listed birth dates. I'll read off the names."

***

Across the street, in a small room in the back of an office building, sat a desk equipped with a computer that accessed police files, primarily for undercover agents. Kade and Paul received the key from Tackett, and two hours later, they had a list of a hundred and twenty-nine suspects. Each took a set of names.

Kade's fingers stroked the keyboard and logged into the city's records.

"Let's try this first name. Adkins, Charles." Kade's two fingers punched the keys at a high speed. "He was arrested ten years ago for - " He scratched his stubble along his chin as he cross referenced Westridge's report while waiting for the police file to load. "Strange, doesn't show on these HR forms about his criminal record? Makes you think they didn't run a background check on him."

Paul edged a guest chair around to view the screen.

Kade clicked the tab for the arrest record. His gut told him there was something to this.

The police report blipped onto the screen.

"Arrested ten years ago. Tried and convicted for fraud, black-mail, and espionage." Kade whistled. "Member of Westridge's Board too." He opened another webpage for the internet and then typed in the name Charles Adkins. "No, this can't be our man. He died in jail over two years ago from a heart attack."

"Any surviving relatives?" Paul twisted in his chair.

"Two children, Jordan and Terry." There was a picture of the girls. Twins, the caption said. Both had blonde hair and blue eyes. They looked to be eight or nine maybe? Their dad had a criminal record... their childhood was probably as screwed up as his had been. That reminded him; he needed to put Sid's boys' birthday card in the mail. He'd sent one since they'd been born and to Sid's daughter too and he wasn't going to stop unless they asked him. This time he'd include a large check for Sid's widow and presents for the boys. Hell, he wanted to do more.

Maybe send her a check twice a year. He could manage that. It was the least he could do.

"One of his sons wanted revenge?"

"Daughters," Kade corrected him as he scrolled through more websites. "Adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Bakker. Both sisters and their foster parents were in a car accident."

"When?"

"I know where you're going with this, but it leads nowhere. The children, nine at the time, were reported in the crash, and didn't survive."

"Adkins' widow?"

"Negative. She died six months before."

Kade cursed. Believed they had a lead. His gut told him there was something there, but the intel told otherwise. A lot of tragedy in that family in a short span of time.

"Scratch Charles Adkins off the list." Paul sounded annoyed. "One down, too many more to go. Next on the list is Douglas, Mary Anne, then Hacken, Bob."