"That's right, the attorney who oversees the IT systems is Mills," Joe said, a smug look on his face as he inhaled a chicken strip.
"He said he didn't know anything about the IT systems," Callie said with a frown. "Why would he lie to me?"
"Because he's got something to hide." Joe's face was plastered into a triumphant smile. "Like I've been saying from the beginning." With his hands behind his head, Joe leaned back against the wall of the janitor's closet.
"How should I call him out?" Callie asked.
"Remember what I said about romancing him?"
Callie folded her arms. "I am not doing that."
"It's easy. Just ask him what he's doing for dinner. It's way easier to grill someone in a fancy restaurant and have it seem non-threatening."
Callie looked worried. "I don't think that will work. What if he has a girlfriend?"
Joe rolled his eyes. "You're right, mister grumpypants probably has a vibrant social life, and we all know attorneys never date their pretty secretaries. If you don't have it in you, just admit it."
Callie arched an eyebrow. "Are you saying I can't turn on the charm?"
Joe shrugged. "If the high-heel fits."
Callie stood up from the overturned mop bucket she was sitting on and stepped in front of Joe. Bending over, she stared him in his blue eyes.
"You think I'm that unattractive?" Callie pouted.
Joe swallowed. He did his best to make eye contact, aware that lowering his gaze would mean staring down Callie's shirt. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils.
She bit her lip and briefly rested her hand on his chest. Joe looked like his head was going to explode. She hooked her finger into his shirt collar and pulled him forward. "Do you want to know a secret?" Callie whispered in a husky voice, her lips millimeters in front of Joe's. He nervously cleared his throat. She leaned forward, breathing into his ear. "You spilled barbecue sauce all over your shirt again."
Joe jerked back and glared at Callie, his face the color of a tomato. "You made your point. Although you cheated by using . . . all that." Joe vaguely gestured at Callie.
Callie laughed. "I don't think it's cheating to be a woman."
Callie returned to her desk, self-satisfied at making Joe Hardy tongue-tied. She scanned her card to enter the legal department and became aware of angry voices coming from Mills's office.
"I had no idea," a somewhat-familiar voice said.
"You knew about this." Mills snarled. "I trusted you, and you tried to take advantage of me. Get out of my office."
"Andrew, don't-"
"I said get out."
Callie slipped into her cubicle as Brian stormed out of Mills's office. After a few seconds, Mills stepped out and watched Brian leave the department. Mills sighed before catching sight of Callie.
"Hey," he smiled ruefully, "how do you think I handled that?"
"I just caught the tail end of it," Callie replied.
"That's probably for the best. You want to step into my office and catch me up on what you've been doing?"
"What was that about exactly?" Callie asked after closing the door.
Mills groaned. "I was reviewing the sales contract and found that Brian had slipped in some auto-renewal clauses that contradicted what we'd negotiated. There was also a hefty up-front hidden fee. Good thing I was reading it so close. I've been so busy I was tempted to just skim it to save time."
Callie debated confronting Mills now or trying out Joe's strategy before making up her mind. "We haven't found out a lot yet. If nothing turns up we're going to shift gears. Are you free for dinner? We can talk about new strategies."
Mills smirked. "Did Joe put you up to this?"
Callie sat back, shocked that Mills apparently knew what was going on. "What do you mean?"
"He looks like the kind of guy to try to get free meals out of a client."
Callie relaxed. "No, I sort of meant just you and me. I don't expect the company to pay or anything."
"Oh, okay," Mills said then froze as he understood what Callie was implying. "Uh . . . yeah, that sounds fine. Wait, I can't tonight. Does tomorrow work?"
Callie smiled. She had him. "Tomorrow is good."
"What restaurants do you like?"
"I'll defer to you; you know the restaurants around here better than me." She rose and walked out, stopping in the doorway and looking back over her shoulder. Mills had been following her with his eyes. "Can you pick me up from my hotel at six-thirty?"
Mills nodded. "Sounds like a plan. 6:30 tomorrow it is."
At 4:50, Mark walked outside. Joe recognized him from the picture Callie had shown him. Short and pudgy with glasses, he was exactly what Joe expected a computer guy to look like. Joe caught up with him as he was getting into his Tesla.
"Nice wheels," Joe exclaimed. "Which package is this?"
"It's a Model S, but I got the Plaid, bigger wheels, and full self-driving upgrades," Mark said, obviously eager to show off his new purchase.
"Wow," Joe said, not having to pretend to be impressed. "How much did that set you back?"
"Six figures," Mark bragged.
Joe whistled. "Ducroy pays its people well. I'm Joe by the way. I just started as a janitor."
"Mark, I work in the IT department. The Tesla's actually a gift from my grandpa. He just passed and left me some money. I could never afford this on my own salary."
"Probate documents are public record," Callie informed Joe as they climbed into their new rental. "Liz used to have to pull them all the time when she was an intern at the paper. We can check out Mark's story at the courthouse."
"My dad might know someone who can check it out," Joe said, starting the ignition. "And my run of being right about Mills continues. I knew he was into you."
They returned to the hotel to find Fenton watching TV on the couch.
"Don't work too hard Dad," Joe said as he tossed his shoes into the corner.
Fenton gave Joe a side-eye glance. "I'm actually reviewing surveillance video. Come look at this. It's our friend Loggins."
Joe and Callie walked over.
"Loggins is facing the camera," Fenton continued, indicating a chubby baby-faced man who was facing a taller man who was hidden in shadow. "Here it is, the smoking gun."
The taller man handed a large envelope to Loggins.
"Is that the payoff?" Joe asked. "Who's the other guy?"
"That's what I've been trying to figure out," Fenton replied. "I never see his face. He's a couple inches taller than Loggins, and, according to his personnel file, Loggins is five foot ten."
"So, a six-foot male with dark hair?" Callie said.
Fenton nodded. "Unless your young eyes are catching something mine aren't."
"That describes Mills," Joe pointed out.
They studied the film for a few minutes but found nothing helpful.
"Why can't we just get the information from Loggins?" Joe asked. "He looks like someone who would crack in less than five minutes."
"You're being generous," Fenton stated. "I'd say less than two. I was at the airport this morning to try to do exactly that, but he was late, and I had to take off to handle some other matters. My contact just texted me. It seems Loggins skipped his whole shift."
"Do you have his address?" Joe asked.
"I do," Fenton responded.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Joe jumped to his feet.
"I was waiting for my backup," Fenton said. "Let's go."
"What about me?" Callie asked.
"I got some information from a Wall Street friend of mine," Fenton said. "We might be able to learn something about the hedge funds. It's pretty dense, but do you want to take a crack at it?"
"I'll give it a shot," Callie said, sitting down to a mountain of paperwork on the table.
Joe caught Fenton up on their work as they drove to Loggins's address.
"Big inheritance?" Fenton said. "Sounds convenient, but it could be true. It'll be easy enough to verify if he got anything through probate. If it was a trust that's a different story. So Joe, you're trying to turn Callie into a honeypot, huh?"
Joe blushed.
"I wouldn't underestimate her. If Mills knows anything, I would bet on Callie finding it out."
They pulled up to a rundown apartment building. Dark stains marred the exterior of the gray Brutalist concrete structure. The beat-up cars parked around the edifice did not scream opulence.
"I guess crime doesn't pay," Joe remarked.
"Not unless you're in a cartel. Or the government.," Fenton said as they walked up to the building. "Loggins is in apartment 308."
They walked up the central breezeway staircase to number 308. A few of the other apartments had welcome mats or door signs, but there was nothing on Loggins's. Joe knocked on the door but there was no response. He tried again with the same result.
"This does not bode well," Fenton said, unbuttoning his jacket for easier access to his shoulder holster.
"It's unlocked," Joe said, swinging the door open. "Uh-oh."
Fenton walked through the doorway and knelt by a corpse on the living room sofa. A needle and rubber tubing lay next to the body.
"It's Loggins all right," Fenton said. "Looks like a drug overdose."
"It looks like it, but is that really what happened?" Joe asked.
"Does it matter? Our best lead is now room-temperature."