Chasing Frost by Isabel Jolie
Four
Sadie
Chase Maitlin’s desk sits empty. Most everyone has stepped out for lunch, possibly down to the cafeteria, or they’re behind closed doors in meetings. The top of Rhonda’s head can be seen over the cubicle wall, and I can faintly hear the hum of her phone conversation. Unseen, I step inside his office.
Tall file cabinets line the back wall. A collection of signed baseballs, basketballs, and one soccer ball sits on top. To the side of his desk is a bulletin board packed with mementos. I step around his desk, curious.
Given the Mets schedule on the bulletin board, I’d assume he’s a Mets fan, but I look back and see Yankees crap mixed in with the sports memorabilia on the top of his file cabinets. Upon closer inspection, Mets junk is mixed in too. There’s no clear allegiance. There are a few New York Giants ticket stubs sticking out from the edge of a bulletin board, and on further examination, I discover those tickets aren’t used. They’re for an upcoming game. I count the tickets, and there are six of them.
Everything on his bulletin board appears personal, and other than a photo of a dog, everything is sports-related. He has a desk calendar, and I’m about to pull out my phone and snap a photo of it when Rhonda calls out to me.
“Are you looking for Chase? He’s at lunch.”
I point at his bulletin board. “He’s got quite the collection of interesting stuff.”
With a fond smile, Rhonda surveys all the stuff crowding Chase’s office. “Yeah, glancing around, you’d think he’s a big sports guy. And, don’t get me wrong, he likes his sports. But, for Chase, it’s about the people he’s with. He doesn’t really care what team he’s watching. He’s not one of those guys who’s in a bad mood after his team loses. He doesn’t really care. He just likes being around people.”
This is a woman who clearly likes her boss. She’s probably in her mid-forties, and her wedding band and kid photos indicate their relationship is completely platonic, even if outside the bounds of a strictly professional one.
“I can call you when he’s back from lunch?” she offers, hovering by the door.
I glance at my watch to check the time.
“His lunch meeting is probably running a little late. I can have him come by your office later this afternoon? I think he has an opening after three p.m.?”
I’d love to be able to continue looking through his office, and I glance wistfully at the day calendar left out openly on his desk. But Rhonda shows no sign of leaving me in here, so I thank her and leave.
When I make it back to my office, I pull out my phone and type into my notes app.
Chase Maitlin - long lunches, everyone’s buddy. Takes clients to sporting events. Only employee in a t-shirt, no tie. How?
It’s clear to me, if Maitlin is our guy, he’s not stressed. Probably because someone up top is covering for him. He’s the client relationship manager. I could tell from the status meeting that he has accountants on his team who do all the real work.
This morning’s status meeting ran smoothly. One thing I’ll give Maitlin, he has happy employees who know the drill. They ran through updates without any tension or drama. There was only one guy on his team who didn’t joke around much. I even caught him rolling his eyes at one of Maitlin’s jokes.
I flip through my file from the status meetings this morning. Garrick Carlson. He’s the accountant who handles the pro bono work for the McLoughlin Charity, plus he handles four other business accounts, all based in Chicago. And two of those four accounts are the reason I’m undercover at BB&E Accounting.
I add one more note to my app.
Garrick Carlson - not too friendly. Didn’t joke around with others.
There’s a knock on my doorframe, and I swipe up to close out of the app.
“I heard you missed me.” At five foot eight or nine, Chase is about my height in heels, but he somehow fills the doorframe with his smile and persona. He spreads his arms out wide, and as he does so, his t-shirt tightens across his chest, revealing muscular lines. As an FBI agent, I’ve spent a fair amount of time around gym rats, and looking him over, I realize he must be one.
“Long lunch meeting?”
“Nah. Met up with a friend. She’s in advertising, though, and tends to eat lunch on the later side. Most of the folks at BB&E are heading out the door for lunch at noon sharp.” He pulls out a chair and sits. “You know, it’s your first day. We should have taken you out to lunch. I always do that for my team.”
“I’m not on your team. It’s not a problem.”
“Yeah, you’re not on my team, but I’m the one who’s supposed to be welcoming you. Tomorrow?”
More time to get to know him? “Sure.”
“I’ll text Rhonda and ask her to schedule with my team. We’ll go around the corner. You can get to know everybody.” His fingers fly across his phone.
Perfect. “I’d love that.”
“So, I know you're replacing Tad. But I’m not entirely sure what his objectives were. Are you simply double-checking to ensure our work is correct? Or are you evaluating resource needs as well?”
All traces of the friendly jokester are gone.
“Resource needs? You mean, personnel?”
He nods, lips in a straight line.
“Ahm, yes, technically, that is a part of the job description posted on the human resources board.” His right eyebrow lifts, and I add, “The job I applied for. But, no, Evan hasn’t highlighted that as a pressing priority right now.”
He crosses an ankle over his knee and leans into the corner of the office chair. In a flash, jovial Chase returns. Interesting.
“Good to know. It’s usually in the fourth quarter when BB&E identifies poor performers and layoffs happen.”
“You have annual layoffs?”
His shoulders lift slightly as he considers my question. “BB&E isn’t a strict Six Sigma firm, but they do adopt the approach to some degree. Are you familiar with it?”
“A bit.”
“Well, the theory is you can trim about ten percent of your weakest performers each year, and bring in new blood, to build the most effective and efficient team.”
“And yet you’re still employed here.” The snark slips out of my mouth before I can stop it. He grins.
“Yes, I am. It may surprise you, but I’m good at my job.”
“That’s what I’ve been told.” The question is, Maitlin, are you gonna land yourself in prison for being too good at your job?
He taps the armrest. “So, what did you need to see me for?”
“Oh, I can’t seem to access the pro bono accounts.”
“You’re starting with our pro bono accounts?” His tone says he doesn’t approve of my tactical choice. Just like a man to be judgmental.
“I’m not starting there. I’m simply trying to ensure I can access everything. Today has been all about navigating an intranet from the eighties. Whoever handles your IT should be fired.”
He comes around the side of my desk to view my computer. “I can’t say I entirely disagree with you, but from what I can tell, it’s multiple people, not just one. And IT’s not a core competency or priority for the firm.”
He zooms around, clicking options at lightning speed, and then frowns. The same error message I’ve received a dozen times flashes on my screen. Access Denied. I don’t try to hide my amusement, because he was so confident I simply didn’t know what I was doing.
He reaches across and taps a few numbers on the keypad for my phone.
“Tommy, you need to give Ms. Frost full access.”
“I did.”
The frustrated expression on Chase’s face is priceless, but you’d never know it from his warm, friendly tone.
“Tommy, my man, I’m sitting here at her computer. She doesn’t have full access.”
“I’ll be down in thirty.” The line clicks.
Chase and I stare at each other for a moment, and then he dramatically holds his arms out wide and looks to the ceiling as if praying to the gods. I can’t stifle a giggle at his exasperated facial expression.
He grins then asks, “Did you find the cafeteria?”
“You mean the break room at the end of the hall?” There’s a full-size refrigerator in the small room, a coin-operated Coca-Cola drink dispenser, and a microwave and coffee maker on the counter.
“Nah. Come with me. Evan did a crap job showing you around and making you feel at home, huh?”
I follow Maitlin to the elevator bank, thinking about Evan Mitchell. He’s been nice enough, and he seems to genuinely want to root out any corruption in his company. But I don’t think he really knows how to deal with an FBI agent. It’s not a big deal. A lot of people freeze up around agents, and I did get the distinct impression Evan’s not the one who normally handles onboarding. But he’s handling me himself because we all agreed the fewer the number of people who know there’s an undercover investigation going on, the better. The head of HR, an older woman in her late fifties, is the only other person who knows I’m FBI. None of the employees in her department know the truth. They all think I’m a personal connection of Evan’s who happens to be a perfect fit for their open position.
We’re quiet on the ride down, as several other people are also in the elevator. When we reach Level C, the doors open into a large cafeteria. It’s mostly empty, given it’s midafternoon, but there’s a deli, a pasta bar, an enormous salad bar, a griddle for hot sandwiches and fries, and one area with a sign that reads International. I point at the sign, and Chase explains.
“Supposed to be international cuisine. Changes daily. There’s a menu for the month over there. You can also find a link to it on the portal home page. Some of the food here isn’t that bad. The salad bar is always pretty fresh. It’s packed down here during lunch. Anyone from the building has access, not just BB&E employees.” He strides over to a coffee bar, which proudly serves Starbucks coffee. It’s great and all, but there’s a real Starbucks on the corner of our block. Chase opens a refrigerator and pulls out a large bottle of water then asks me if I want anything.
I bypass the soda fountain and select a bottle of water, too. Chase lifts it out of my hands. “I gotcha.”
He continues talking as we head to the lone active cash register.
“So, do you live nearby?”
“Not far. Chelsea area. You?”
“Same. What street?”
“King Street.”
“Hmmm. You know, we actually don’t live far from each other.” He sets the water down and pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. “Hello there, Ms. Wallace. How’re you doing today?” The cashier smiles at him, and they act like friends for a minute as she swipes his credit card. When we’re past her station, he asks, “So, what gym do you go to?”
Yep, nailed it. He’s a gym guy. “I don’t have one yet.”
“Yet? That’s right. Evan mentioned you recently moved here.”
“Yes. From Los Angeles.”
“Oh, you’re one of those.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I’m just giving you a hard time. Hhmmm, so, you’re not only new to the company, you’re new to my city. You should’ve said. I’ll help you get your feet on the ground.”
“Well, you could start by recommending a gym.”
“I like Chelsea Pier. There’s a gym in this building, too, but they don’t have classes or anything. HR gave you the packet on employee benefits and all, right? The menu for this place should have been in that, now that I think about it.”
I actually did not receive a packet from HR, but I make a mental note to ask for one. I don’t like being caught off guard. I should at least be aware of what new employees receive so no one gets suspicious.
The doors to the elevator close, and Chase says, “You know, I’ve got this thing coming up this weekend. Some friends getting together. You should come with.”
I pause and study his posture.
“I mean, not as a date,” he’s quick to clarify, “but to meet some of my friends. I have some good friends who you’d like. Besides, if you don’t know anyone here, what else ya going to do?”
“I’d like to go. Thank you.”
I am sincere in my answer. If I’m going to crack this case in two weeks, I need to figure out how guilty Maitlin is, and spending time with him, and getting to know his friends, is a great way to pick up that kind of information.
We each return to our offices. IT hasn’t yet arrived. I close my door and dig down into my briefcase for my personal cell. It’s almost too late to call my sister, as she’ll likely be out again or busy with friends. The five-hour time difference can be challenging.
“Sadie, you called.” Surprise resonates in her tone, which is entirely deserved.
“I said I would.”
“Yeah, well… So, do you like New York?”
“I do. It’s been less than a week.”
“And let me guess. You’ve spent essentially no time outside the FBI office building.”
Quinn spent one summer with me in D.C., and I don’t think she’ll ever let me live that summer down. It was an especially busy summer, and I still had a lot to prove as a new agent, so I put in a lot of hours at the office, leaving her all alone.
“On that count, you would be wrong,” I tell her.
“Wait, are you working undercover?”
“Yes.”
“Damn. You’re like Dad.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I meant in a good way. But you’ll be careful, right?”
There’s a knock on the door.
“I gotta go. Sorry.”
“You’re being careful, right?”
“It’s a nothing assignment. Seriously. Boring.”
The door cracks open.
“Yes. I’ll see you at four p.m. tomorrow. Eleventh-floor conference room, right?”
“Just like Dad,” is the last thing I hear before I hang up.
I smile at the man standing in my doorway. I assume he’s IT, as he’s not wearing a jacket or tie, and he’s also wearing black running shoes.
“I hear you need help.”
“Yes, I seem to have limited access.”
“Well, I’m your knight in shining armor.”
Out of nowhere, Chase comes up behind him. “Don’t go stealing my lines. Just fix her computer, Romeo.”
I laugh as the man steps behind my desk.
Chase pulls out one of my guest chairs for me as the IT guy taps away on my keyboard.
“Here, sit. I’ll make all your problems go away.”
The guy rolls his eyes. “I’m the one fixing her computer.”
“Yeah, but I’m her knight.”
It’s all in jest. Chase’s brand of casual is fun, not at all what I’m used to, and he kind of cracks me up. But he’s also clueless. He’s not so much my knight as my target.