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“CCTV is closed circuit television. It’s video recording in public areas, usually reserved for following crime and tracking down perpetrators,” Texas explained.
“Okay.” I nodded. “And you followed her using that?”
He nodded, but just as he opened his mouth to go on, the car pulled up to a curb outside of a tall office building and the driver announced our arrival. “Thanks,” Texas said, reaching forward and handing the man a few bills before we got out. “Let’s get inside and find the others before we continue this conversation,” he suggested.
I glanced up as the hot Australian sun burned across my cheeks and forehead and squinted at the reflective surface of the building as we strode for the spinning front doors. Texas didn’t even hesitate as we walked into the chrome and glass interior, moving through the lobby with confidence as he approached the front desk. I hung back for a moment as he spoke to the woman sitting there with her strawberry blonde hair pulled back into a severe bun.
My eyes scanned the room, noting the men in business suits and searching for the cameras Texas had mentioned. I spotted a couple above the front entrance, as well as over by the elevators, among other places. If Jenna had come to the office regularly, there was no doubt in my mind that her timecard would have had to correlate with her arrival and departure times. Unless there were other unseen entrances, there was no way to get in and out of the building without being seen by at least one security camera.
Texas’ hand touched my elbow, startling me as he urged me towards the elevators. “They’re upstairs in the meeting room.”
“Marv and Grayson?” I asked.
He nodded. “Everyone’s here. They’re there with Jenna’s temporary supervisor.”
We took the elevator up to the fifth floor and when the doors slid open, I saw the top of Marv’s golden-blond head. The meeting room was across from the elevators, the clean hallway windows allowing me to see him as he paced back and forth parallel to a long table. Texas and I moved towards the door of the room where the guys and another man I didn’t recognize were quietly talking.
Knix’s head popped up as we entered, but before he or I could say anything, Texas went down the row of windows looking out into the hall and lowered all the blinds.
“What’s going on?” Knix demanded as I went to his side. His hand moved to the small of my back, sending a shiver up my spine.
“I’m not sure,” I answered. “Texas said he might have found something. Did you find anything?”
He looked down at me, his expression softening before he sighed and shook his head. “I had to ask Bellamy to track down a few notes from people she had been talking to, but other than that, all we managed to discover is that she didn’t keep her case notes in the office.”
“Of course not,” the stranger said—I assumed this was the supervisor Texas had mentioned. He was a tall, thin man with a bushy mustache tipped in gray. It fluttered as he blew out a breath. “Jenna was working from the apartment for most of her stay here.”
“Why?” I asked. “Wouldn’t you want confidential information kept in the office?”
“Everything Jenna was working on was done via computer. Any confidential information she had was password protected on a company laptop.”
“Is this the laptop?” Texas asked as he stopped by the table and gestured for the silver cased laptop sitting there.
The man nodded.
“We found it in the apartment and brought it here when Knix called us and told us to meet here,” Grayson said.
Texas moved to open it as he set the notebook down. “Like I said, it’s password protected,” the supervisor warned. “The only people to know the password were Jenna and my boss.”
“Why is that, Mr. Stover?” Knix asked. “You are her supervisor, shouldn’t you have her password.”
Marv paused in his pacing as the man answered. “Normally, I would have, but Jenna was a temporary employee from another branch. My boss is her main supervisor, I was simply her liaison and supervisor when he was out.”
“Which he is today,” Bellamy pointed out.
Mr. Stover nodded, and a moment later, Texas looked up from the laptop. “I’m in.”
The man’s eyes widened and he hurried around Texas’ other side, gaping at the screen he saw. “That’s not—you shouldn’t be able to—how did you—”
“Most people don’t use random digits or words for their passwords,” Texas explained. “So, if you know a little bit about the person, it helps to be able to hack their accounts. I’ve spent the last several hours learning as much as I could about Jenna Wiedleman’s habits. Her password is pretty simple.”
“But…” The man continued to stare at the screen as Texas clicked through documents and opened up tabs. “You’re in company documents. Those should have been sealed.”
“Companies are harder,” Texas admitted without pulling his gaze away from what he was doing. “But they’re all pretty much the same. They need a seemingly random way to track company documents. The password was a combination of Jenna’s employee ID as well as her American social security number—I figured it out since most of these documents are from the primary branch. She only came here because the man she’s attempting to prosecute is native to Australia. From what I read on the documents detailing the lawsuit, he claimed to have been in Australia during the time the embezzled funds were transferred to a Swiss bank account with a surprisingly unoriginal name attached: John Smith.” Texas sighed as if disappointed and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Some people have no imagination.”
“Texas,” Marv snapped. “What did you find?”
“Well, nothing much from the documents on here or that I managed to gain access to via the company employee system your boss”—Texas paused to gesture to Mr. Stover—“gave me permission to hack.”
