After going through introductions a second time, Noah made a bit of small talk. Then his cellular rang, giving him an excuse to leave the four of them on their own.
It was Helen calling, with a question that only took a minute to answer. But when he clicked off, rather than rejoining the others, he wandered over to the window beside the door and stood, ostensibly staring out at the murky water of the Hudson.
In reality, he was watching the little group’s reflection in the glass, absently adding up how many years—in total—the three men had worked at Four Corners.
Stu had been with the company since start-up, for the first ten years as one of the warehouse grunt men, for the past twenty as manager.
Tony and Paul hadn’t been around forever but both were long-term employees.
He’d had a careful look through their files after the container incident, so he knew Paul had been around for close to eighteen years. And Tony had come on board about three years later—almost straight out of prison.
But he’d always been a good employee. Surely he wouldn’t go bad again after so much time had passed.
Or would he?
Maybe he’d needed big money for some reason and…
Telling himself speculation about that sort of thing was a waste of time, Noah focused on the reflection once more.
All three men looked worried, but they’d be a lot more so if they’d overheard some of the discussions he’d had with Robert and Larry. If they knew Larry kept harping on the point that lie detector tests weren’t foolproof, and insisting at least one of the warehouse people had to be part of what he’d taken to calling “the conspiracy”…
However, surely anyone who gave his conclusion much thought would question it. Because none of these three seemed like the sort who’d get involved in a master plan to cause the company grief.
So wouldn’t most people figure Larry was probably wrong? That someone else had tried to burn the place down?
And even though Tony had made a major-league slipup when he’d signed for those containers, that was a far cry from conspiring with the ship’s captain to steal a couple of them.
Noah let his gaze drift to Dana’s reflection, wondering what impression she was forming of these guys. Did she think one of them could be…
Of course, Robert had said he’d underplayed the sabotage angle with her. That he’d merely mentioned they thought it was possible someone was intentionally causing their problems.
Still, it would have occurred to her that the arsonist might be an employee.
He watched her for a few more seconds. And even though looking at her told him nothing about what was going on in her head, it was plain to see that those smiles she kept flashing weren’t getting her anywhere. She was still making the men uneasy.
Not only that…
Studying her image in the glass, he silently admitted she was making him uneasy, as well. Because something about her didn’t ring true.
He wasn’t entirely sure why he had that feeling, although the fact they were here in the warehouse accounted for part of it.
Based on what he knew about the way consultants worked, she should have had him introduce her to the office staff first. Made her way over here sometime after that.
So even though she’d given him a plausible reason for where she wanted to begin, the fact remained that she wasn’t behaving like a typical consultant.
And then there was her response when he’d asked her how she’d be proceeding.
She’d start by talking to people and see where it led. That was the extent of what she’d said—and it had set off a minor alarm in his brain.
People who specialized in organizational design, the ones he’d known in university, at least, were always more than eager to talk about the guiding principles they followed.
As Dana herself had said, OD wasn’t an exact science. Which seemed to make its practitioners feel they should work at convincing everyone they met that it deserved respect.
Not Dana, though.
He had the distinct feeling that the less she discussed the finer points of her profession the happier she’d be. Which had him thinking…
Regardless of her Web site, he was back to suspecting his uncle and Larry had lied to him, that she was either a cop or a P.I.
Maybe it wasn’t much more than a hunch, but he’d learned not to ignore his hunches. And if he was right about her, why were those two keeping him in the dark?
Only one obvious answer came to mind and he really didn’t like it.
Larry might keep talking about how he suspected the warehouse guys. But when he was alone with Robert he had to be suggesting Noah could be behind things.
The thought his uncle would even consider that was… Yet what other explanation made sense?
Hell, that was probably the real reason Robert had him playing tour guide for Dana. It would give her time with him. Time to figure out if he was the guilty one.
Gazing at her reflection again, he decided he had to establish whether she was a phony or not—and fast.
As the old saying went, forewarned was forearmed, and it had occurred to him, right off the bat, that she might get in the way of what he was doing.
Now he was thinking that, unless his hunch was wrong, there was little doubt she would.
Casually, he turned from the window and started toward the others.
When Dana noticed him coming, he said, “You’re going to be here for a while, so I’ll head back. Do some work until you need me again.”
“Well…fine.”
“My office is to the right of the front door. Just down the hall.”
“Fine,” she said again.
After nodding to the three men, he strode out of the warehouse and up the pier to West Street.
Ten minutes later he was at his computer, reading through those quotes from “clients” on Dana’s Web site and thinking it was strange that she wouldn’t have included the names of the client companies.
Or maybe it wasn’t strange. If they weren’t for real, they didn’t have names.
He reached for his phone and dialed the number on the screen, then listened to her voice telling him he’d reached the office of Dana Mayfield, organizational design consultant, and asking him to leave a message.
He hung up, not even marginally convinced his hunch was wrong, then went into a database that gave him the options of searching the city by either address, zip or phone number.
When he typed in her number, there was no hit. Yet it was obviously assigned, which meant she’d intentionally had it blocked.
A blocked business number? That made him even more suspicious. But how was he going to find out for sure if his suspicions were right? Follow her home?
No, that didn’t strike him as much of a plan. He’d be smarter to try charm. Befriend her. Get her talking about herself. Then catch her off guard.
Uh-huh, that was a far better idea.
Except that he was kind of rusty in the charm department. He’d been so busy around here lately that his social life was nothing but a faded memory.
Glancing at Dana’s photo once more, he told himself not to worry about the rust. Being charming to a woman who looked like her wouldn’t be tough. No matter how high the likelihood that she was a phony.