Double Vision. Fiona Brand
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Dana frowned as she moved a computer printout, obviously not comfortable with the coffee on her desk, but too polite to insist that Esther remove it.
“Sorry about the mess.” Dana stacked the papers Esther had pushed to one side and found a clear spot for them at the end of the desk. “I’m in the middle of a systems rehash. I don’t need to tell you what a nightmare that is.” She made a face. “The managing director wants more detailed reporting. Although, I don’t know what more he expects to see, other than the color of our clients’ underwear.”
“Could be an interesting database.”
“It might be, if there was anything in it but Y-fronts.” Dana reddened, realizing she’d made a borderline offensive comment to a potential client. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I missed breakfast and I’m on late lunch. My blood sugar is way down.”
Esther forced a smile. “No problem. At a corporate level, Cesar doesn’t allow Y-fronts.”
Dana’s blush deepened. “You are kidding.”
“Unfortunately.” Esther rummaged in her handbag on the pretext that she was searching for something.
“I was sure I put business cards in here this morning.” Looking distracted and faintly annoyed, she set her bag down and leaned forward with enough swing that her elbow caught the coffee cup. Hot liquid splashed across the desk.
With a yelp, Dana shoved back in her office chair a split second before a wave of coffee slid over the side and dripped onto the carpet.
Already on her feet, Esther snatched a handful of tissues from a box on the desk. Apologizing profusely, she dropped them on the puddle, then, in a smooth motion, leaned over and lifted the keyboard away from a trickle of liquid.
The card was there.
Pretending to overbalance as she swiped at the coffee, she managed to flip the card around with the soaked tissue. The codes and the password were written in clear, bold black ink.
Dana grabbed at the card before a second stray trickle of coffee reached it. “Busted.” She flushed bright red as she slid the card in her drawer. “I guess you don’t have to remember access codes anymore. Not that you ever had a problem. They change them twice weekly here, Monday and Thursday. That was one of the reasons I left Bessel Holt, I couldn’t stand the twenty-four-hour turnaround and my supervisor was constantly breathing down my neck.”
She grabbed a handful of tissues, dropped them on the carpet and blotted more coffee. Her face was still flushed, her voice jerky with embarrassment. “I lived in fear of him checking beneath my keyboard. I’m all for security, but those people were anal.”
Esther resumed her seat and worked to control her own breathing and the steady pump of adrenaline that was making her hands shake. She was more than happy to listen to Dana’s nervy conversation, anything to distract her from realizing she had gotten a look at the codes. She didn’t think anyone but her immediate superior at Bessel Holt had known about her photographic memory, but she didn’t want to take any risks. It was an unhappy fact that somehow Xavier had found out about it. “Two years was enough for me. I couldn’t keep up with the young computer nerds.”
Dana tossed soiled tissues into the trash. “Tell me about it. There’s a kid almost young enough to be my son running this place. Not,” she said quickly, “that he isn’t qualified, he is, but—”
“I know what you’re saying. It’s hard to credit it.”
Her smile was relieved. “Exactly. Kids seem extra bright these days. The way their minds work is frightening.” Her gaze lingered on the ring. “I hear you’ve got a daughter.”
“That’s right, Rina. She’s ten.” Esther extended her hand so the sunlight slanting through the window flashed off the diamond, more than happy to change the subject. “Cesar gave it to me when Rina was born.”
“Tiffany’s?”
“Cartier.”
“Nice.” Dana brandished her own wedding band and diamond solitaire engagement ring. “I’ve got a twelve-year-old, going on thirty. While her father was around, he didn’t give me anything but trouble.”
“Divorced?”
“I would have been if he hadn’t widowed me.”
“I’m sorry.” Dana’s personal circumstances explained what Dana was doing at RCS. With a bad marriage behind her and a daughter to care for, she hadn’t had the luxury of choosing where she worked.
Feeling uncomfortable at the glimpse into Dana’s personal life and guilty at the way she had used her, Esther gathered up soiled tissues and the empty cup and tossed them in the trash. Seconds later, the desk restored to order, she checked her watch. Only fifteen minutes had passed since she had walked into Dana’s office, but now that she had the codes all she wanted to do was leave. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to go. Time’s gotten away from me and I’ve got a lunchtime meeting.”
After a brief discussion, Esther confirmed an appointment time she never intended to keep and walked quickly out of the office. She hadn’t enjoyed manipulating Dana or flaunting the ring, but she hadn’t had a choice.
When she reached the sidewalk, San Francisco’s midday heat hit her like a wave. After the dry chill of air-conditioning, the humidity made her break out in an instant sweat. Fumbling in her bag she slipped dark glasses on the bridge of her nose and made her way to her car. Hot air blasted out of the interior as she opened the door. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she started the engine and turned the air-conditioning on full. For long minutes she simply sat there, waiting for the shaking to stop.
She had done it. She couldn’t believe it. She had the access codes and a time schedule and it had all gone more smoothly than she’d ever imagined. All she had to do now was act. It was Tuesday, which meant Xavier had a window of one and a half days. If RCS followed the same procedure as Bessel Holt, the codes would be changed at the beginning of the new business day on Thursday.
An hour after passing the codes on to Xavier, he rang back.
“There’s a problem.”
The amount in Lopez’s account was so huge the bank had slapped extra security precautions on the account. Any movement of funds over five figures needed verbal approval from Lopez.
Xavier’s solution was simple. “We steal his phone.”
Or, more precisely, he would steal Lopez’s phone number for a very short time. What he needed her to do was supply a recording of Lopez’s voice.
When Xavier hung up, she pressed the rewind button on the answering machine and skipped through the messages. Alex Lopez’s recorded voice floated over the phone, so real adrenaline shot through her veins.
She set the phone down, ejected the tape and slipped a fresh one into the cassette. It wasn’t much. She didn’t know if Xavier would be able to get an actor to do a realistic impersonation based on a few clipped words, but unless she called Lopez herself and recorded the call, it was their only option.
There was no way she could risk calling Lopez. He already