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"Just be careful," she said. "Let Griffin take the lead. He's the professional."
GRIFFIN LED US past the young man at the front desk.
"Shouldn't we speak to him?" I said as we headed for the elevator. "He might know if William left yet."
Griffin grunted and kept walking, so I stopped. Karl did the same. Griffin reached the elevators, saw that we'd left him and strode back, passing us and walking to the desk.
"Mr. Cortez would like you to answer these people's questions."
The receptionist/guard gave him a discreet questioning look. Griffin's chin dipped a quarter-inch. In this business "tell these people what they want to know" could easily mean "tell them what they're allowed to know."
"Is William Cortez still in his office?" I asked.
"I believe so." He dropped his gaze to a display just below the desktop and tapped the screen. "His car is still in the garage, and I haven't seen him leave." Another tap. "Nor has he used his code on any of the other exit doors."
"When's the last time anyone saw him?"
I expected him to say, "How should I know?" but the guard tapped the screen a few more times. "He requested dinner at seven-thirty, and it was taken to his office at eight. He asked for coffee at nine."
"Has he had any visitors?"
"None that came through me, miss, and I've been on since seven."
&
nbsp; We headed to the same elevator we'd been taken up in yesterday. As we waited, Griffin glanced over at Karl, eyes narrowing.
"Is that Mr. Cortez's shirt?"
Karl stretched his arms, the sleeves riding up past his wrists. "A poor fit, but the fabric and tailoring are superb."
"Where'd you get it?"
"I stole it, of course. While everyone was beating the bushes for assassins and trying to save your partner's life, I decided to do some shopping in Benicio's closet. I have a nice pair of diamond cuff links in the car too."
Griffin scowled, as if not quite certain Karl was joking. When we got onto the elevator, he covered the panel as he entered the code, just in case.
HOPE
OVERTIME
When we reached William's office, the door was open and there was no sign of an occupant. Griffin went in first, circled the room, then came out and said, "He's not here."
I stepped inside. Papers were scattered across an otherwise pristine desk, a briefcase sat on a chair and a suit jacket hung behind the door. Karl picked up the jacket. Griffin's eyes narrowed.
"I'm thinking of taking this too," Karl said. "You don't mind, do you?"
He gave the jacket a shake. At a jingle, he reached into a pocket and fished out a set of keys.
"So he hasn't gone far," I said. "Where's the nearest bathroom?"
Griffin walked to a closed door that I'd presumed was a closet, and opened it to reveal a dark and empty bathroom.
"Water cooler? Vending machine? Photocopier?"
He pointed to the cooler and an all-in-one printer. "There are no vending machines on this floor. If he wants something, he calls."
He crossed the room and picked up the phone, and I thought he was just being sarcastic--demonstrating--but he pushed a button and murmured something.
