“Still seems hinky to me. Do you mind if I call your Alice and ask her some more questions?”
If Leland thought something related to computers was hinky, it probably was. “Well, you might not call her right now. It’s Saturday night, so she’s likely to be out or going soon.” Odd that the thought gave him a pang.
“Then I’ll leave her a voice mail. She doesn’t have to answer my call.”
It was useless trying to convince Leland that not everyone wanted to be on call 24-7. “It’s your project now, so you do what works for you. I’m just an interested bystander.”
“Keep the interest to a minimum. You’ve got Argon to worry about.”
Irritation flared at his partner’s warning. “I can actually hold two thoughts in my head at the same time,” Derek snapped.
“Yeah, but you were pretty impressed with the bookkeeper. I could tell by your notes. You don’t usually comment on a client’s skill and intelligence.”
“I thought it was relevant to the project since you haven’t met her. What’s your point?” The game was starting again, and Derek didn’t want to leave his client alone much longer.
“Just seems that there might be more going on than getting some numbers straightened out.” Leland’s drawl was back. “And KRG needs your full focus on Argon.”
Leland disconnected before Derek could ask him why giving Alice credit for being on the ball meant there was anything other than work going on. He shoved his phone back in his pocket. Having partners who were also old friends could be a royal pain in the ass.
Although uneasiness nagged at him as he remembered his thoughts about Alice’s hair and perfume. And panties.
But that wouldn’t prevent him from giving Argon one hundred percent of his effort.
Alice was curled up on the couch with Sylvester ensconced on her lap and Audley stretched out beside her, rereading one of her favorite Georgette Heyer novels. When she had scanned her romance collection after she’d put on her pajamas, Arabella had suited her mood for the evening. As she read it, she realized why. When she pictured the hero, Mr. Robert Beaumaris, a very rich, very eligible grandson of a duke, he had the face and body of Derek Killion. However, Arabella wasn’t overawed by his riches or his looks, and Mr. Beaumaris fell hard for her. Alice knew that only happened in fiction, but a girl could dream.
An email chimed into her phone, which Audley was using for a pillow. She considered not disturbing the cat, but she thought a dose of reality might be a good thing for her Derek-hazed brain.
The message was from Leland Rockwell. The man was at work at nine thirty on Saturday night? He must have even less of a life than Alice.
She swiped it open.
I have some questions about the software. May I call you?
Did he mean now? Had Derek somehow sensed she was just like his partner and told Leland to go ahead and contact her? The idea sent a jab of hurt through her.
No, that couldn’t be true. Leland was just giving it a shot.
She looked down at her pajamas covered with dancing llamas. It wasn’t a video call, but she felt weird about doing business while dressed for bed.
She tapped back, Please give me fifteen minutes and then I will be available for your call.
She extricated herself from the couch without causing either cat to do more than blink at her disapprovingly and then dashed up to her bedroom to throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She even pulled her hair back into a ponytail to get herself into the right frame of mind.
When her phone rang, she was in her office in front of her computer screen.
“Ms. Thurber, this is Leland Rockwell from KRG.”
For a moment she couldn’t reconcile the honeyed southern drawl with the computer-wizard reputation, but why shouldn’t a tech geek be from the South? “Please call me Alice,” she said. “Thank you for working on my problem on a weekend.”
“Right, Derek did mention something about it being Saturday night.” Leland’s tone had a little edge of irony that she didn’t understand. “I should not have bothered you. I can call back on Monday.”
“No, no, it’s fine. What questions do you have?”
“Does Myron Barsky have an accent of any kind?”
That wasn’t what she expected Leland to ask, so she had to think a minute. “Um, he had kind of a twang, not quite southern and not much of one.”
“Could he be from Texas?”
“I suppose so. I’m not great at pinpointing accents.” Why would Leland care?
“Did he have anyone else with him?” He might have a drawl but Leland’s interrogation was still sharp.
She frowned and thought back to the hotel presentation. “The hotel manager introduced him, but no one else was on the dais with him that I remember.”
This was getting weirder and weirder.
“Did the hotel manager mention whether he used the software himself or whether the hotel did?”
“No, he just told us Myron was from BalanceTrakR and handed over the microphone. Then he circulated afterward, asking if the food and beverages were to our liking.” She hadn’t much liked the manager because his concern seemed all about whether his guests would say anything negative online rather than a genuine wish that they be happy.
“Does the hotel run many events like that one?”
“I don’t really know. It’s outside of town, near the highway, and caters mostly to business travelers. It’s part of a reputable chain, though.”
“One more question and then I’ll leave you to your weekend plans. Did the manager mention Barsky’s title or position with the company?”
Alice tried to rerun the manager’s opening speech in her mind. “I don’t think so. If you give me a minute, I’ll see if I can find my notes to double-check that.” She put Leland on mute and opened the drawer where she had filed the software information. Pulling out the file, she found the sheets of lined yellow paper. No title. Flipping through the glossy brochure she’d picked up, she found the same thing. She unmuted the call. “Nothing about his position. Only his name and the toll-free number.” Leland was not going to be impressed with her as a resource. “I wish I could help you more with this,” she said in frustration. “Can you tell me why you’re interested in Barsky and his presentation?”
There was a pause before he said, “I took a look at the software and it has many signs that it was programmed in Russia or Eastern Europe. Some of those guys are really good, but there’s a whole underground network where the programmers work cheap and deliver an inferior product. I think it’s possible that there may be a bug in the system. I admit that I haven’t found it yet, but give me a couple of more hours.” His combined frustration and determination came through clearly.
Alice frowned. She hadn’t really believed Derek when he proposed that as a possibility. “But there’s not a single discussion about this bug on any BalanceTrakR user forum. I even posted about it. I’d expect to see something if there was a systemic bug.”
“That is puzzling.”
She wanted to ask if Derek knew about Leland’s theory but remembered it was Saturday night. Since Derek wasn’t a computer geek, she was sure he had a date . . . or two.