Page 14 of Wild Fever
The guard stepped out of the booth and approached the window. His name tag read Reggie Johnson. "Your names, please."
"Deputies Jack Donovan and Tyson Wild," JD said.
The guard scanned his tablet. "I don't see you on the list.”
Jack smiled. "This is more of an impromptu visit.”
"I'll need to get clearance. What is your visit regarding?”
"The untimely death of one of your employees. Preston Stewart."
The guard frowned. "Preston's dead?”
Jack nodded.
The guard frowned and shook his head. "Damn shame. I liked Preston. Let me make a phone call and see what I can do."
He stepped back into the booth and contacted headquarters. After a little back-and-forth, he grabbed visitor badges and a parking pass for the car and handed them to JD. "Visitor parking is near the building to the right,” he said, pointing. “You’ll need to check in with the front desk.”
The gate lifted, and we pulled into the lot and headed toward the main building. The parking lot was full of luxury SUVs and a few high-end sports cars. Most people at this company were doing pretty well for themselves.
Jack parked, and we hopped out of the Porsche and made our way inside. We climbed the steps and walked into the impressive lobby that was a modern architectural masterpiece. Futuristic and geometric. Skylights allowed copious amounts of Florida sun to beam in.
As with any facility that handled top-secret government contracts, there were metal detectors and baggage screeners. The security here would put an airport terminal to shame.
JD and I made our way to the front desk, which was located before the security measures. It was almost 5:00 PM.
A cheery blonde receptionist greeted us with a smile. "Good afternoon. You must be Deputies Wild and Donovan.”
We smiled and nodded.
"I'll need you two gentlemen to sign in.” She handed a clipboard across the counter, and JD and I scribbled our autographs.
"Gentlemen, you can have a seat in the lounge, and someone will be with you shortly."
She motioned to a side area with leather couches, a coffee table stacked with magazines, and a mini fridge with bottled water, soda, and snacks. A coffee maker sat atop a counter.
Jack and I took a seat and made ourselves at home.
I called Isabella and told her I needed another favor. I gave her the details about Preston Stewart’s passing and asked her to check cellular data.
Jack grimaced, looking uncomfortable.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“That Diablo Burger may have been a little too devilish.”
“Are you sure you’re not having a heart attack?”
He glared at me. “I’m not having a heart attack.”
We waited for about 15 minutes. Two men and a woman approached. They all wore navy suits and looked rather stiff. The blonde forced a smile as she drew near and extended her hand as we stood to greet them. She had tawny eyes and a narrow face. "Deputies Wild, Donovan, I'm Dana Baker with public relations. This is Douglas Gordon, the head of our in-house legal department, and Julian Ashby, our CFO.”
We shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.
Douglas was approaching 50, with a bald head and curly brown hair on the sides. He wore a three-piece suit and carried a stylish briefcase with him. His keen eyes sized us up quickly. We didn’t look like your average cops.
Julian was mid-30s, tall and slim, with short blond hair, a narrow face, and blue eyes.
