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Authors: Kim McMahill

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CHAPTER TWELVE
 

The meeting with the marketing team lasted through lunch. Morgan felt energized by the time it ended and was reminded of the reasons why she had accepted the job. She loved the challenge of taking a product with a sliding performance record and returning it to its former dominance.

The marketing group seemed very competent and eager to try new ideas. With some new marketing strategies and a few changes to the manufacturing process, her mind reeled with all the possibilities. She had no doubt she could increase the division’s profits substantially. The only thing that nagged at her was the thought that maybe the healthy meals and snacks weren’t all that healthy.

She wanted to give GCF the benefit of the doubt and not allow a few private e-mails to taint her opinion about the company and its top management.
Maybe the data was false, and if accurate, I have no evidence that
Preston
Hoyle is even aware of the problem
.

The bottom line, though, was she had to know. She couldn’t promote a product that might be dangerous or work for a company which would hide hazardous effects from the public. She prayed there was a logical explanation for the exchange between Dexter Fowler and Stan Jacobson, and that GCF would do the right thing. She had never blown the whistle on a company, and she didn’t want to start now. Even if justified, it would destroy her career.

Deep in thought, Morgan rounded the corner leading to her office and nearly collided with Aaron’s back as he stood near the coffee machine. She was momentarily stunned as the image of a man rushing out of the production facility earlier in the morning wearing the exact same colored suit flashed through her mind.

He turned and smiled. “Coffee, Ms. Hunter?”

“No. No, thank you,” she stuttered as she continued on to her office.

As she reached for the doorknob, she paused. Looking over her shoulder, she caught Aaron watching her. “Were you looking for me earlier?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“I thought I saw you down in the plant this morning.”

“I was at my desk all morning.”

“I guess there must be someone else in the building wearing a suit like yours today.”

“Blue suits are common around here.”

Morgan nodded in response and entered her office. She didn’t believe Aaron. It wasn’t just the suit, but the hair color, height, and build. Sighing, she collapsed in her chair, drained of the energy she felt as she had left the marketing meeting just moments earlier.

Success in any job was difficult if one didn’t trust their staff. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but there was something, even before this morning’s incident, that didn’t add up about Aaron.

How can I get rid of him?
He is more than qualified for the job and
Preston
Hoyle apparently thinks very highly of him.
Another problem for another day, Morgan thought as she retrieved a small key from her pocket.

Unlocking her desk drawer, she removed the three e-mails and reread them, hoping she had misinterpreted the messages, but the facts were clear. An analyst believed MFHG3 was addictive, stimulated the appetite, and potentially even contained carcinogenic compounds. Data from one analyst could be wrong, and he admitted that a conclusive decision was beyond his area of expertise. She knew nothing of this man’s qualifications or what kind of tests he performed on the sweetener.

Morgan unlocked her computer, logged onto the Internet, and searched for a phone number for Smith & Brown Consumer Analytics in
Sacramento
,
California
. She jotted down the number and reached for her phone just as it rang.

“Yes, Aaron?”

“Mr. Hoyle’s assistant called and she said Mr. Hoyle’s last appoint ran short, so he can see you now.”

Morgan looked at her watch and it read 4:30 p.m., only thirty minutes earlier than her regularly scheduled appointment. No legitimate excuse came to mind to stall for thirty minutes. Her call to Smith & Brown would have to wait.

“Tell them I’m on my way. Thanks.”

Locking the flash drive in her top desk drawer, she picked up the three sheets of paper, took a deep breath, smoothed her skirt, and strode out past Aaron’s desk. She avoided eye contact with him despite feeling his gaze on her, trying to force down the sense of dread that filled her mind.

When Morgan reached Preston Hoyle’s office, his assistant smiled and politely ushered her into the CEO’s spacious domain.

“Please, have a seat,”
Preston
said, not rising from his chair. “How was your weekend in Sedona?”

Morgan took a chair she could have sworn was six inches shorter than his. She wished she had never mentioned her vacation home. The property in Sedona was her sanctuary, a tie to her past, and a place she had only ever allowed one man to share with her, and that was over. Even hearing
Preston
talk about her retreat made her feel like he was violating her personal space, so the lie just slipped out. “I didn’t go after all. I was too tired to make the drive.”

“Too bad. So, what is this about Stan Jacobson that’s so important?”

Clearing her throat, she decided to jump right in. Placing the three sheets of paper clutched in her hand on
Preston
’s desk, she slid them toward him until the documents were within his reach. “I found these and thought I should bring them to your attention.”

He picked up the sheets and quickly read the three short messages. “These accusations are ludicrous but could be very damaging if they got out to the public or our competitors. As you’re well aware, MFHG3 changed the game. The division may be stagnant right now due to Stan’s mismanagement, but the product is everything we claim it is.”

Morgan’s eyes lowered to the papers and she remained silent, waiting for
Preston
to continue.

“We do all our development and testing in-house, so I’m not sure why Stan was even working with an outside analyst. MFHG3 is made from
minimally processed monk fruit and hoodia
gordonii
components. The ingredients we utilize from the monk fruit and hoodia are
GRAS—Generally Recognized
As
Safe by the FDA. We attained self-affirmed GRAS designation on the components comprising MFHG3, therefore, it is generally
exempt from most regulation processes. We did the research, the testing, filed all the paperwork, and got the necessary approvals. Everything is in order.

“Maybe he had concerns and just wanted an impartial verification. It seems like it’s worth looking into. If there is any truth to the data, this analyst has made some pretty serious claims.”

“I agree. I will have the situation thoroughly investigated. In the meantime, we need to keep this between the two of us. The fewer people who know the better.”

“Should we discontinue use and go back to an old tried-and-true sweetener until this is sorted out?”

“Absolutely not. If we do, it will raise a lot of questions.”

Morgan wasn’t sure what else she could do. She brought the issue to Preston’s attention, and he said he would investigate. She wasn’t comfortable continuing to use the product in the meantime, but he was in charge, and she was new to the company. She had no idea how far she could push without consequences.

“How long do you anticipate it will take to have the product reevaluated and the allegations investigated?”

“I’ll get Dr. Chen and his team on it right away. We should know in twenty-four hours if there is any merit to these ridiculous accusations.”

“Could we just take everything off-line for a day and claim it’s for maintenance?”

His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. Morgan fought to keep from shrinking down in her chair under the clear non-verbal reprimand. He no longer appeared like the lecherous party boy she had witnessed earlier, but rather like a formidable adversary looking for an excuse to attack. His lips pursed, his eyes narrowed, and he hissed his response through clenched teeth.

“No. If we find a problem we can pull the product by the lot numbers, so there’s no reason to generate suspicion until we reevaluate.”

His intensity unnerved her, yet she still exhaled with relief. Production for the day was finished, so there would be only one more run with the current sweetener if they could get feedback as quickly as
Preston
claimed. If Dexter Fowler’s results were confirmed,
Preston
would pull everything. Then, she assumed, the company would issue a recall notice, but thought it best not to discuss that scenario unless it became necessary.

“Thank you. Please let me know the minute you get the results.”

His facial expression relaxed. “I will. In the meantime, don’t worry about a thing. I’m sure there was a mistake or there is a simple explanation. Company policy strongly discourages gossip, but in light of the source of this issue, it might put your mind at ease to know that Stan had become a little unreliable toward the end of his tenure here. We discovered he had developed a drug problem which contributed to his dismissal.”

“Oh. I had no idea. Thank you for letting me know.”

Morgan stood to leave and had almost reached the door when
Preston
’s voice stopped her.

“Just one more thing. Where did you get these messages? Aaron assured me he had thoroughly cleaned your office before you arrived.”

Morgan turned and took several steps back toward
Preston
’s desk. “There was something preventing my bottom desk drawer from completely shutting, so I crawled under my desk and found a tiny flash drive taped to the very back of the track.”

“Hmm, that’s odd. You didn’t download the data onto the network, did you?”

“No, I opened the documents, read them, and then printed them for you to read.”

“Where’s the drive now?

“I locked it up in my top desk drawer.”

Without breaking eye contact with Morgan,
Preston
picked up his phone and punched in a four-digit extension. “Aaron, I need you to take your spare set of keys to Ms. Hunter’s desk and retrieve a small flash drive out of the top drawer. Bring it to me immediately.”

Morgan was stunned and fuming mad. She had no idea Aaron had a set of keys to her desk, and she couldn’t believe Preston had ordered him to violate her privacy while she stood by listening helplessly. Clearly, her expression spoke volumes.

“You’re shocked? Assistants always have keys to everything. What if you called from an important meeting needing an item and Aaron couldn’t access your desk?”

“That would be my problem, and I would take care of it. All you had to do was ask. I would have retrieved the drive and brought it to you.”

He smiled a tired, patronizing smile. “No sense wasting a trip. That’ll be all. I have to go—in-laws are still in town. Consider this matter closed. I will take care of it.”

Being firmly dismissed, Morgan stormed out of his office, hoping to intercept Aaron, give him a piece of her mind, and relieve him of the keys to her desk. She strode down the hall but saw no sign of her assistant. When she reached her office, she went to her desk and ascertained the drawer was locked. Quickly opening it, she was not surprised to see the flash drive was gone.

Collapsing into her chair, she leaned forward, covering her face with her hands.
Why does everything about this situation feel so wrong? I found some damaging data and took it to my boss. He assured me the claims will be investigated, yet I have no confidence an impartial inquiry and testing will be conducted.
Is that why Stan sought out his own analysis?

She knew the revolutionary new sweetener had transformed the company. She was also well aware of how much money the Healthy and Delicious Foods line had generated for GCF since its development. The whole company depended almost entirely on the success of her division.

They will never admit it is dangerous. The admission would cost millions, and it would take years to repair the company’s image. I did what I had to do. I couldn’t have gone to the authorities without giving GCF the opportunity to do the right thing, and maybe they will. Twenty-four hours, I can wait that long. If
Preston
claims the product is safe, I’ll have to dig a little deeper. Too much is at stake to take the one man’s—who has the most to lose—word at face value
.

She dialed Aaron’s extension and wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer. There was nothing else she could do for now. Feeling defeated instead of relieved after sharing her burden of knowledge, Morgan grabbed her coat and purse and left.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
 

“I knew it,” Devyn stated as she strode toward Nick’s desk, shaking a piece of paper in her raised hand.

“The goo in the bindings was explosive?”

“Yes, residue left from a plastic. No question about it, Dexter was murdered by Frank. We’ve got to figure out Frank’s true identity.”

“Unfortunately, this guy was apparently very good. No law enforcement bureau has his prints on file, and we had no hits when we ran his picture through the most sophisticated facial recognition software in the country. The only clue we have is the Uinta Vitamin researcher thought she could detect a very minor inflection in his speech, indicating maybe he has lived in or is from some other country. She did admit that the bitter cold could have affected his speech, but it’s the only lead we’ve gotten so far. I’ve passed on his picture and prints to the CIA and Interpol. We’ll see if that turns up anything.”

Devyn dropped into her chair and slid the report toward Nick so he could read over the details, though there wasn’t much more than she had already reported.

“This seems like a pretty common explosive material, but I’ll send it over to the ATF guys and see if the compound’s dealer is traceable. Sometimes, they can tell where an explosive came from if it’s fairly unique to a limited number of distributors.”

“Well, I hope we catch a break soon. I ran into Fitz and Gordo on the way up and Gordo said all the bugs and surveillance equipment should be installed by tomorrow night. If we don’t have anything better to do, we’ll be spending a very long evening in a van with those two.”

“Did Gordo happen to mention if his mom was baking?”

“I can almost guarantee it.”

“You know, I hear she only sends cinnamon rolls when you’re on a stakeout with her only son. I think Gordo has a crush on you and Mom is trying to help him out, probably to get him out of her basement. Too bad for him you’ve got the hots for Sheriff Harris,” Nick said as he snatched the stress ball off Devyn’s desk as she reached for the weapon.

She leaned back and smiled. “What if I told you I was saving myself for you?”

He laughed. “I’d say you’re lying. We’re like oil and water, which makes for a good team. I look one way and you look the other. Between us, we miss very little, but we’ll never be at the same place personally. On the other hand, you and the sheriff were made for each other.”

“What do you mean?” Her curiosity was piqued. She liked the looks of the man. He made her all flustered whenever he was around, but she thought it was just infatuation and lust. She kept hoping the feelings would fade, but so far, they hadn’t.

 
“Think about it, Devyn. There’s a reason two attractive people in their mid- to late-thirties are still single, and neither have ever been in a serious relationship that I’m aware of. You’re both career-driven, stubborn alpha males. You need strong people in your lives or you run over them. Look at your track record with partners. You don’t settle. If someone can’t stand up to you, you just bulldoze them.”

“Geez, thanks. Just what every girl wants to be compared to, an alpha male.”

“No offense, I only mean you’re too strong-willed to be content with a doormat for a partner at work or in your personal life. You need to be challenged or you’d be bored. I doubt the sheriff has ever backed down to you or anyone else for that matter.”

“If you know so much about relationships, how come you’ve never dated anyone more than once or twice? What’s your story?”

“I’m an open book,” Nick replied, fishing his vibrating cell phone out of his pocket.

“With a lot of blank pages,” Devyn mumbled as she got up and left the room.

BOOK: A Taste of Tragedy
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