Page 30 of Tell Me the Truth

I stand up from my seat, not sure of what to say to her after learning that she already knows the truth. Just one day after finding out about me, she is finding out that her lab assistant, whom she had worked most closely with for the past four years, is behind the fire that threatened to destroy her life’s work.

Alexandra tells me that she found out about Tracey and the fire through the security footage.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell her, stumbling upon the right words to say in concern and unsure when the right time is to share what I discovered.

“You don’t sound surprised,” she realizes. “Why don’t you sound surprised?” Her voice sounds like she is sayingif there is something I don’t know, you better tell me now.

Releasing a deep sigh, I tell her everything my private investigator revealed to me.

I explain to her that I still believe there is something more to it—I still believe that Tracey Devina is a cog in a very large machine.

“My private investigator is looking for more, including the money trail.” When I tell her about Tracey taking money to work on the inside, I hear Alexandra gasp.

“When the police went to arrest Tracey,” she explains, “They found her at her apartment with packed bags and three hundred thousand dollars in cash.”

“So, for sure, Tracey Devina is just a pawn and this goes way deeper.” I look up from my desk and I see Richard walk right by my office. He has a smug look on his face, like he is invincible. Our eyes meet and he gives me a slight nod as he walks by. “Alexandra, let’s meet and talk in person.”

“Hey, Richard!” I yell as I open my office door and walk out into the hallway, in the direction I had seen him walk. He is no longer in the hallway, so I walk to the conference room, which was the direction he was headed.

When I get there, I see that one other person was waiting for Richard’s arrival. It’s Belinda, the blond, curly-haired board member. They both look over at me when I enter the room.

“Ellis, son, I was just talking with Belinda about the company’s next moves.” Richard gestures to another a chair, offering me a seat with them at the table. I shake my head and remain standing.

“Richard, Belinda,” I nod my head to each person as I say their name.

In her usual, flat voice Belinda replies to a question I didn’t voice, but that I was actually thinking. “I’m focused on injecting money into new research and development and am in charge of overseeing the move in that direction.”

I shake my headyes, to show that I agree with what she’s saying. Belinda adds, “Just as you requested at the meeting yesterday.”

Richard’s voice booms, “Great idea son! It’s exactly what our company needs. A new direction. New prospects! And speaking of new prospects, I’m setting my sights on other companies to buy. Errr,othercompanies who want to work with us.”

I can’t help but notice in both of their voices that they’re trying to say exactly what I want to hear. So I tell them, “Thank you, to both of you, for taking charge and moving the company in this new direction. On a different note, about that fire last night at Seth BioTech…”

Belinda readily jumps in, “We’ve already sent a card to Seth BioTech as well as issued an announcement on our company website expressing Brent-Sigma’s sympathies for that tragedy. We’ve issued a very large donation in Seth BioTech’s name to the U.S. Cancer Foundation.”

There’s no way for me to determine their sincerity and I still don’t trust them, but at least I know that Alexandra’s company is no longer their target.

“Good work. Carry on.” I nod to Richard and Belinda, then leave them together in the conference room.

***

Two weeks after Tracey Devina was arrested, Alexandra and I are still trying to figure out how deep the roots of the sabotage go. We are both running separate investigations and sharing intel, but the money trail to Tracey Devina has run cold.

I was really hoping to find connections between anyone at Brent-Sigma and the money, but my P.I. says it is as if the money just magically appeared out of thin air. There is basically no trail.

One day, I am in my office when I receive a call from a correctional facility in the Central Valley, about an hour south of Sacramento. I accept the call.

“Mr. Brent.” The woman’s voice is clear and almost sweet.

“Ms. Devina.” I answer. Knowing who she is before she introduces herself.

“Seems like you don’t need an introduction, so I’ll cut to the chase. I have information that you will find…useful.” My chest tightens. I knew there was something up with her confession. She had claimed to be the only one who orchestrated the sabotage, but with the medical bill payments and the lump sum of cash to leave town, it was obviously a payoff.

“What information?” I inquire. “I’m warning you Ms. Devina. Don’t waste my time.”

“Now, now,” she tells me. “Come see me this afternoon.” The call drops.

For a second, I think about calling Alexandra, but I decide instead that it will be best to go by myself then tell her later if there is any information to share. After all, she is busy getting her research back on track.

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