Read Online When The Devil Whistles by Rick Acker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rick Acker
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refreezing in her gut. “Why are you here?” asked crew cut man without bothering to introduce himself.
“Um, what do you mean?”
He glared at her. “You know what I mean. Why are you at this company? You’re clearly overqualified for the work you’re doing.”
“Oh, well, I like the flexibility of temping and if I took a permanent job, I couldn’t—”
He snorted. “Couldn’t make nearly as much because you’d only have one company to sue, isn’t that right?”
Her heart stopped and she gaped at him soundlessly.
Mr. Allen’s frown deepened, turning the lines on his cheeks and forehead into shadowed crevices. Crew cut man’s mouth twisted into a confident, predatory smile as he continued his cross-examination. “Yesterday, you were running searches for words like ‘state,’ ‘federal’ and ‘government’ in our customer files. Why?”
“You’re—Blue Sea is trying to get a federal contract, so I—I figured that I’d see what your government contract files looked like.”
Crew cut man waved his hand dismissively. “You’re doing this after hours, with no one asking you to? That’s an awful lot of initiative for a temp, but it makes perfect sense for a whistle-blower hunting for her next lawsuit, don’t you think?”
“I—”
“And before you deny it,” he said, raising his voice to talk over her, “think about whether you’ll also deny working for every company ever sued by Devil to Pay.”
She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he added, “Oh, and I’m also interested to hear you explain how you afford that apartment and all those Tahoe and Vail trips on your temp earnings.”
Her ears roared and she felt dizzy. “I don’t understand. Why did you bring me in here and make all these… these accusations?”
Crew cut man leaned back and Mr. Allen leaned forward. His grandfather face was back, but it was somehow worse than crew cut man’s open malice. “Oh, we’re not making accusations, just—” he paused and rubbed his jaw. “Just observations. That’s all. Now, we could share those observations publicly. We’d be very popular with a lot of our business partners if we did. And you’d never blow another whistle.”
She struggled to ignore the adrenaline shouting in her brain. “But you haven’t.”
Mr. Allen smiled and nodded. “That’s right. We haven’t. We’re the only ones who know about you, and we’re willing to keep it that way.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing, but not here.”
Now she saw where this was going. “And where do you want me to do it?”
Mr. Allen chuckled warmly and shook his head. “You’re a clever young woman. Our main competitor is a company called Deep Seven. We’re convinced that they’re cheating the government, and we’d like you to go put a stop to it.”
“Um, okay. No problem. What evidence do you have?”
Mr. Allen’s smile faded and he raised his eyebrows, sending a network of wrinkles up into his snowy hair. “Finding evidence is your job, isn’t it?”
She paused. “Are you saying you don’t have any evidence?”
Crew cut man scowled and opened his mouth, but Mr. Allen raised his hand. “I’m saying that we’re quite certain that Deep Seven is defrauding the government and that you can catch them.”
She twisted sweaty hands below the table. She wanted to ask what would happen if she couldn’t find evidence of fraud at Deep Seven, but she was afraid of what the answer would be. Better to leave it alone and cross that bridge if she came to it. She looked down at the highly polished table, avoiding her own reflected gaze.
“Do we understand each other, Ms. Whitman?”
She took a deep breath and looked up. “We understand each other, Mr. Allen.”
He smiled with every part of his face except his eyes. “Please, call me Sandy.”
15
S OMEONE RAPPED THE OLD “ SHAVE AND A HAIRCUT ” KNOCK ON C ONNOR ’ S office door.
Connor recognized that knock. “Two bits. Come
“Um, what do you mean?”
He glared at her. “You know what I mean. Why are you at this company? You’re clearly overqualified for the work you’re doing.”
“Oh, well, I like the flexibility of temping and if I took a permanent job, I couldn’t—”
He snorted. “Couldn’t make nearly as much because you’d only have one company to sue, isn’t that right?”
Her heart stopped and she gaped at him soundlessly.
Mr. Allen’s frown deepened, turning the lines on his cheeks and forehead into shadowed crevices. Crew cut man’s mouth twisted into a confident, predatory smile as he continued his cross-examination. “Yesterday, you were running searches for words like ‘state,’ ‘federal’ and ‘government’ in our customer files. Why?”
“You’re—Blue Sea is trying to get a federal contract, so I—I figured that I’d see what your government contract files looked like.”
Crew cut man waved his hand dismissively. “You’re doing this after hours, with no one asking you to? That’s an awful lot of initiative for a temp, but it makes perfect sense for a whistle-blower hunting for her next lawsuit, don’t you think?”
“I—”
“And before you deny it,” he said, raising his voice to talk over her, “think about whether you’ll also deny working for every company ever sued by Devil to Pay.”
She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he added, “Oh, and I’m also interested to hear you explain how you afford that apartment and all those Tahoe and Vail trips on your temp earnings.”
Her ears roared and she felt dizzy. “I don’t understand. Why did you bring me in here and make all these… these accusations?”
Crew cut man leaned back and Mr. Allen leaned forward. His grandfather face was back, but it was somehow worse than crew cut man’s open malice. “Oh, we’re not making accusations, just—” he paused and rubbed his jaw. “Just observations. That’s all. Now, we could share those observations publicly. We’d be very popular with a lot of our business partners if we did. And you’d never blow another whistle.”
She struggled to ignore the adrenaline shouting in her brain. “But you haven’t.”
Mr. Allen smiled and nodded. “That’s right. We haven’t. We’re the only ones who know about you, and we’re willing to keep it that way.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing, but not here.”
Now she saw where this was going. “And where do you want me to do it?”
Mr. Allen chuckled warmly and shook his head. “You’re a clever young woman. Our main competitor is a company called Deep Seven. We’re convinced that they’re cheating the government, and we’d like you to go put a stop to it.”
“Um, okay. No problem. What evidence do you have?”
Mr. Allen’s smile faded and he raised his eyebrows, sending a network of wrinkles up into his snowy hair. “Finding evidence is your job, isn’t it?”
She paused. “Are you saying you don’t have any evidence?”
Crew cut man scowled and opened his mouth, but Mr. Allen raised his hand. “I’m saying that we’re quite certain that Deep Seven is defrauding the government and that you can catch them.”
She twisted sweaty hands below the table. She wanted to ask what would happen if she couldn’t find evidence of fraud at Deep Seven, but she was afraid of what the answer would be. Better to leave it alone and cross that bridge if she came to it. She looked down at the highly polished table, avoiding her own reflected gaze.
“Do we understand each other, Ms. Whitman?”
She took a deep breath and looked up. “We understand each other, Mr. Allen.”
He smiled with every part of his face except his eyes. “Please, call me Sandy.”
15
S OMEONE RAPPED THE OLD “ SHAVE AND A HAIRCUT ” KNOCK ON C ONNOR ’ S office door.
Connor recognized that knock. “Two bits. Come
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