Page 105 of Ten Years and Then…
January 1997—Chicago, IL/Boston, MA
Daniel, January 20
“Is it just me, or was Mike giving off some very weird vibes in that meeting?”
Daniel agreed. They’d just gotten out of an all-division meeting led by the Vice President for National Sales, Mike McGee, and there was definitely something off about him. Not that Daniel had been in that many meetings with the man, but there’d been enough over the last two years for him to have a sense of what to expect.
“It’s not just you, Red.” Kristin Chambers had never shed that nickname after the conference in Kansas City three and a half years ago. Everyone else who’d been on the team had moved on; Daniel was the only person besides Kristin who knew why she was called that. “I think there’s something going on that nobody in management wants to talk about.”
“If you hear anything, you’ll tell me?”
She didn’t need to ask. “You know it. You keep your eyes open, too, okay?”
She nodded, and they went their separate ways; her down to the third floor, and Daniel to the office that had belonged to his boss when he’d first been hired by Quantum Networking Systems, and had been his for the last year and a half.
He’d just sat down at his desk when the phone rang. It was a Washington, DC number. He couldn’t think of anyone he knew there personally, or any vendors his team worked with who were based there. But some instinct told him to answer it anyway.
“Daniel Keller?”
He thought he recognized the voice, but he couldn’t think from where. It was a woman, and if he had to guess, not that much older than him. Maybe in her thirties?
“Yes, who’s this?”
“A voice from your past. I’m kind of hurt you don’t recognize me, actually.” But he heard humor rather than pouting there. Someone from college? But who would be calling after almost six years?
And then memory kicked in. He knew who she was.
The Ellis Hall computer lab, his senior year. A law student, a friend, and for six weeks or so, an almost-girlfriend. “Valerie Vance? Is that you?”
She laughed. “Yes, but I can’t talk on this line. I need you to get out of your office, and call me back in ten minutes at this number. Call on your personal cell, not your work phone.” And then she hung up.
What the hell? She sounded like someone in a spy movie. It was ridiculous. Silly. Stupid. Pick an adjective.
But in the few months he’d known her, she had been nothing but good to him, and never anything but truthful. She’d helped him get this job, and negotiate for a better salary—even after he’d broken up with her. Obviously he could trust her.
Ten minutes later, he was sitting on a bench in Cityfront Plaza, well away from anyone else, and he dialed the number back.
“You’re out of the office?”
“Yes, Valerie. I’m all alone in the park. What’s with the cloak and dagger stuff?”
There was silence for a moment. “Protecting myself. I could get fired for this. Disbarred, even. But—I helped you get your job. I feel like I owe it to you.”
That didn’t actually explain anything. “Owe me what?”
“Before I say anything, I need your promise, Daniel. You cannot breathe a word of this to anybody. Not friends, not family, and absolutely not coworkers. I need you to swear it to me.”
And now he knew.
Not the details of what she was about to say, but what they meant. Something was going on with upper management. Mike McGee knew, and he’d spent ninety minutes dancing around like he needed to pee because he couldn’t say anything about what he knew, and how it would impact everyone in the meeting.
“I swear, Valerie. But I think you can probably skip it. Just tell me—I need to get out now, before the layoffs start, don’t I?”
Nora, January 22
She was back in Mr. Brooks’ office again. Nora had been in here a dozen times the last couple of weeks. He’d been questioning her work in detail, making her explain herself in a way he hadn’t done since her first few months on the job.
“Mr. Brooks, can I ask you something?” He nodded. “Do you have a problem with my work? If there’s something you’re unhappy with, I’d rather you just come out and tell me.”
