"What's the problem?" Denard asked.
"I thought," Catherine said, "you told us twenty-seven people had computer access."
"That's right."
"We've got prints for twenty-two."
Nick said, "Mr. Gold is out of town-where are the other four?"
"Who are they?" Denard asked. "You must have their names, you cross-checked-"
Nodding, Nick read from the list, "Jermaine Allred, Ben Jackson, Gary Randle, and Roxanne Scott."
With a one-shoulder shrug, Denard said, "Well, for starters, Roxanne Scott is my counterpart."
"Counterpart, how?" Catherine asked.
"Ms. Scott is Mr. Newcombe's personal assistant and the assistant office manager. She just started her vacation today."
Catherine was frowning, partly in confusion. "Mr. Gold's gone, and Roxanne is gone? One partner and the other partner's personal assistant? Isn't that unusual? Doesn't that put the business at a disadvantage?"
"Not as much as having our computers hauled out of here," Denard said, somewhat acidly. Then, gathering herself, she calmly explained, "The two partners have different responsibilities, which I would say is typical, not at all odd."
"Go on."
"Mr. Gold works on the client side, Mr. Newcombe on the fiduciary side. With this arrangement, they don't both have to be here all the time, and they can nonetheless have an understanding of what the other is up to, which is key, since major company decisions are still made jointly."
"But Roxanne was here Saturday?" Catherine asked.
"Yes-her vacation started when she went home that day."
"Do you know where she is?"
Denard smiled, and it seemed vaguely strained. Was there, Nick wondered, a hint of jealousy in that near smirk?
"Roxanne and her beau," Denard said, somewhat archly, "went to Tahiti for the week. Frankly, I wish I could say the same…."
"All right," Catherine said, finally processing all of that, sighing. "How about the other three?"
"Give me a few minutes to check on the others, will you? Without my computer-"
"Yes," Catherine said, a little sharply. "It will be difficult."
"Well it will."
And Janice Denard went briskly from the office.
Nick considered, briefly, making a cat growl, but thought better of it.
While the two CSIs waited for Denard to track down the three absent employees, they packed up their gear and walked through the empty office. The place really was like a big haunted house, empty even of its ghosts, all the employees having slowly filtered out to go home, as their fingerprinting obligation was fulfilled.
Now the place reminded Nick of some end-of-the-world movie, where vampires or zombies or mutants awaited around every corner. Like the empty streets of those B-movies of his adolescence, the Newcombe-Gold offices-stripped only of their computer equipment-were at once weirdly normal and strangely wrong, as if the human race had vanished from the planet overnight, though Nick was relatively sure no zombie waited around the next corner. Then he turned it and almost ran into O'Riley.
Nick jumped and the stocky detective gave him a quizzical look.
"What?" the detective asked.
Catherine was looking at Nick, amused.
"Sorry, Sarge, you just startled me," Nick said.
Wryly, Catherine noted, "He sometimes has that effect on people."
O'Riley made a little face-repartee was not his long suit-and fell in step with them and the trio made their way to the front door where Tomas Nunez watched the last of the computer equipment being loaded into the truck. Twenty-nine computers, thirty counting Newcombe's laptop, and all the zip disks, CDs, floppies and tape backups that Nunez could find, were piled into the back of the Ryder. It was a haul that came close to filling the rental truck.
"How goes it?" Nick asked.
"That's the load," Nunez said. He heaved a huge sigh; there'd been lots of sighing, today. "Now comes the hard part-we take all this stuff back to the lab and dig in. Wherever the perp has the stuff hidden, we'll find it."
"Good to hear," Catherine said, exhaustion in her voice.
Janice Denard walked out to join them in the parking lot. "I have the rest of the information you requested."
"Yes?" Catherine said.
"Ben Jackson left Friday to go out of town, and took a vacation day, today, for his return flight."
Squinting in sunlight, Catherine asked, "You know where he went?"
Denard held out two open, empty hands. "I think maybe he said something about Idaho-that's where he's from."
"And the others?"
"Jermaine Allred called in sick this morning."
"He didn't talk to you?"
She shook her head. "By the time he called, I was with you. Our receptionist, Debbie Westin, took the call."
"Jermaine told Debbie," Denard was saying, "he had the flu and expected to be in tomorrow."
Catherine nodded. "And the last one?"
"Gary Randle," Denard said. "He had a meeting with a client this morning."
Looking at his watch, Nick said, "He's not back? It's past three."
Denard shrugged. "Meeting could have run long-typical in the ad game. He could have gone for a late lunch, either with the client or by himself, or he could be on his way back."
"He doesn't have to check in?"
Another shrug. "Mr. Randle has been with the firm quite a long time-one of the top people. He has a certain amount of freedom, not unlike Mr. Newcombe or Mr. Gold."
"Is he a partner?" Catherine asked.
"No, but he has been a steady earner for the firm for many years. No one questions the hours of a top earner."
"I can see that."
"You're welcome to wait," Janice said. "I'm sure he'll be in sometime this afternoon." Nick looked at Catherine, and Catherine looked at Nick.
They were both coming up hard on the end of a double shift, and had to be back in tonight. At this point, all Nick wanted to do was catch a sandwich and grab some snooze time; he hoped Catherine felt the same way.
Her expression said she did.
"I don't think we'll wait," Catherine said.
Nick hoped his sigh of relief went unnoticed.
Denard asked, "Are you posting an officer here?"
That was O'Riley's bailiwick, and he responded: "No. We've taken the evidence with us. You're free to go on about your regular business."
Denard just looked at him.
Then she said, "We'll be running a skeleton staff-even Mr. Newcombe has gone. I'll be here, and some of the janitorial staff."
Catherine asked, "These last three employees, can you give us their home addresses and phone numbers, please? We're at the end of our shift. We'll give them a call as soon as we can."
Denard handed Catherine a sheet of paper. Looking over her shoulder, Nick saw the vitals for the three missing employees.
"Nice," Nick said to her. "ESP?"
Smiling a little, Denard said, "You learn to anticipate. Comes with the job."
"Thank you," Catherine said. "This has been a rough day for all of us…. I promise you, we'll follow this up as soon as we can."
The blonde's smile faded and Nick was shocked to see that tears were welling in the blue eyes. "This is a good place to work, good people, a good company-how could this happen?"
Nick wished he knew what to tell her, but he didn't. "It can happen anywhere," he said, a feeling of cold confidence running through him. "But whoever did this won't do it again-not here."
Catherine offered her hand and Denard took it, shook it, and the two CSIs headed for the Tahoe.
"I changed my mind," Catherine said.
"How so?" Nick said.
"I do want breakfast. You still willing to buy?"
"Sure. Sky's the limit. Denny's?"
4
IN THE MORGUE, WARRICK BROWN HELPED GRISSOM LOWER the carpeted package to the floor, after which Sara took more photos.