Sharon's on a roll…
As John walked into the lobby of the Denton Pharmaceutical Company, it was all he could do to keep from humming. By the end of the day, Frank's life would be ruined…and it would all start right here.
With his usual confident swagger, he walked up to the reception desk and smiled at the young woman seated behind it. "Hey, remember me?"
At first, she stared blankly back at him. However, after a moment a smile of recognition lit her face. "Oh, Mr. Trafford! Of course. What can I do for you?"
"Well, for starters, you can tell me the name of the head of Human Resources."
She looked confused at the request, but answered him. "His name is Ben Wallace."
John jotted the name in his notebook. "Is Mr. Wallace available? I really need to speak with him."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Trafford, but he's scheduled for back to back meetings all day. Would you like me to check with his secretary to set up an appointment for tomorrow?"
John struggled to hide his frustration. "You know, I can be awfully rude. What's your name?"
She answered, "Amy."
"Well, Amy, it's like this. I've discovered something about one of your employees that Mr. Wallace badly needs to know. You have a…security risk working among you." He wasn't about to waste his revelation on a mere receptionist, but he needed to tell her something in order to enlist her help.
She looked doubtful. "A security risk?" Nonetheless, she buzzed Mr. Wallace's secretary. "Linda? Is Mr. Wallace between meetings, by chance? There's a gentleman here – a local attorney – who needs to see him about one of our employees. He says it's urgent. Yes? Oh, wonderful. May I send him up? His name is John Trafford. Great. Thank so much."
She hung up and turned to John. "He has about 10 minutes before his next meeting. The 12th floor is the Human Resources Department. His secretary will direct you to his office."
John gave her his most charming smile. "Thank you so much, Amy. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help."
She blushed and smiled. "You're very welcome."
When John stepped off the elevator on the 12th floor, he was greeted by a kindly-looking older woman. "You must be Mr. Trafford."
He smiled, a touch condescendingly. "Yes, I must be."
She caught the undertone of condescension, and her smile became rather fixed. She said only, "Mr. Wallace's office is the third one on the right. He's expecting you."
He was already halfway down the hall before he tossed back an offhanded "Thank you." He arrived at the appropriate door and looked inside. A distinguished looking man, with a full head of gray hair and an obviously expensive dark gray suit, was seated behind an impressive maple desk. He was perusing a file.
At John's knock, he looked up and smiled. "Ah, Mr. Trafford. Please come in and close the door. I understand you have some important information about one of our employees."
John closed the door and walked over to him, extending his hand. "Mr. Wallace, it's a pleasure to meet you."
He smiled and shook John's hand. "Please, call me Ben. Have a seat and fill me in on this 'vital information' you have in your possession."
John sat down and took a deep breath. "I know this is going to sound beyond bizarre, but please be aware that I what I'm about to tell you, I heard directly from the mouth of the man in question."
Ben raised an eyebrow. "So it's one of our male employees. All right, Mr. Trafford, I only have a few minutes, so please tell me what you heard…and who we're talking about."
John nodded. "Yes, of course." He struggled to keep a broad smile from crossing his face as he said, "The employee I'm here about is Frank Falconer."
Ben looked at him with an expression of undisguised surprise. "Dr. Falconer? What about him? He's a brilliant young man who has done some phenomenal work for us. We've just promoted him to our management team…quite an accomplishment for someone still in his twenties. How do you happen to know him?"
Good lord, this guy has pulled the wool over everyone's eyes. He pushed that thought aside and moved on, giving Ben a truthful, but misleading, answer to his question. "He's my girlfriend's brother-in-law. Anyway, there's no good way to say this, so I'll just come right out with it…he's an alien."
Ben looked at John and burst out laughing. "That's your big revelation? Anyone who hears him open his mouth could have told you that. Do you mean to imply he's here in this country illegally? I can promise you that is definitely not the case. As a matter of fact, he became a naturalized U.S. citizen after his marriage."
John shook his head impatiently. "I don't mean an alien from another country. I mean an outer space alien."
With that, Ben dropped his pen and stared, mouth agape, at John. "What the hell are you talking about? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
John was expecting this reaction. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but if you had a Bible handy, I'd swear on it that I'm telling the truth. I was in the park today, and happened to overhear a conversation he was having with a friend of his. Not only is he from another planet – he's actually a member of its royal family."
Ben closed his eyes and shook his head. "I must confess, John, people don't often leave me speechless, but you've managed to do it."
John was on a roll. "No, no. Think about it. If he really is royalty – and I heard him say he is – he's probably here heading up some sort of delegation. It wouldn't surprise me if he and his 'comrades' are planning an invasion of this planet. He may be trying to discover our vulnerabilities, and working at a pharmaceutical firm could help him there. He could be learning about our physical illnesses and planning some sort of 'germ warfare' to exploit them."
Ben stared hard at John. "You actually believe this? Are you sure he wasn't just kidding around?"
John didn't waver. "Believe me, he was not joking. The man is from another planet. You have to believe me."
For a long moment, Ben sat in silence. Finally, he said, "All right. I hear you. I promise you I will give this information every bit of weight and attention it deserves."
John stifled a smile as he stood up and again extended his hand to Ben. "Thank you. I appreciate your being open-minded enough to listen to what I told you."
Ben shook his hand. "You're welcome, Mr. Trafford. Don't worry. I will take all appropriate action."
After John left, Ben stared absently down at his note pad, on which he had started doodling pictures of flying saucers. After his next meeting, he'd talk with Frank.
That conversation should be one for the diary…