Corporate Secrets

CHAPTER 1

COLE

"We are here, sir," Tim says, making me glance up. And just in time too. I've been staring at these files for the past three hours. My brain feels like sludge. As I glance around, I'm disoriented. Why have we stopped in front of this building?

Then I remember this is Chicago and shake my head slightly. "Thanks, Tim." Stacking up the paperwork, I slip them into a file and put that in my briefcase.

Then I grab my jacket and put it on. The sharp twinge in my side and neck reminds me of how I haven't slept well enough in weeks. My insomnia is making a comeback, and I'll probably need to get on medication once more. It's not a cheerful thought.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Tim. You give my regards to Teresa. And give Katie a kiss from me. Tell her I'm proud of her, and to break a leg."

"Will do," my driver says as I step out of the car. His daughter has a ballet recital this evening, so he needs to go back to New York. I wish I could go back to New York. But I have a job to do.

I pause on the sidewalk and take off my glasses, then look up. I have only been here once, about eight years ago.

We had just signed the dotted line for the acquisition of the company. It used to be Manning Inc., Then we bought it, and it became part of the Charlton Group. Then, it had been a small investment firm. It occupied the ninth floor of the building.

Now, we owned all twenty-six floors. We poured money into it and managed it from afar. And never realized what was going on until it was too late.

I glance at my watch as I head into the building. It's only a quarter past seven. In our New York office, by now the building would already be bustling. Here though, it's still mostly silent.

The lobby is nondescript. The floors wear dark carpets, and the walls are cream. All of the furniture I see is wood. A few tired-looking people are making their way toward the doors. One or two fresh faces are getting on the elevators.

My eyes catch on the worn carpet in the lobby, and the peeling paint on the walls. Those signs of disrepair make me take an even closer look at the lobby.

For a building that runs round the clock, there should be security guards stationed here day and night. There should be a receptionist sitting behind that worn desk. The place isn't looking very clean. Two of the elevators have 'Out of Order' signs on them.

I head over to one of the good elevators and wince at the cranking sound that starts as it moves. Apparently, a lot more is wrong than I had imagined.

Instead of going straight up to the twenty-fourth, I take the elevator to the twentieth floor. I want to see the other parts of the building, not just the ones that we use.

A law firm occupies that floor. The place is well maintained, but I'm sure it's not a result of our efforts. The floor above has another law firm, a smaller one. It also houses a temp agency. It looks to be in as much disrepair as the lobby.

The stairwell has a musty smell like it was flooded recently. The Charlton Group logo is boldly emblazoned on the glass doors that lead into our offices. The employees here work nine to five, so it's empty, just as I expected. Getting into the office should require a key card. There should be a guard stationed here as well.

Instead, I walk easily through doors that aren't even locked. The place is a security hazard.

There should be so many things here that are not. It's difficult to walk through the space, noting how disorganized and haphazard things are.

The more I look around, the angrier I get. By the time I get to the top floor, I'm sure I've seen the worst of it. Then I open the door to the office Saul Manning used to occupy.