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Authors: Eugenia Riley

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“Cancelled. Are you certain?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s right here in
the log book.”

“Who made the cancellation?”

“I don’t know, ma’am. Someone from
your corporate headquarters.”

“Thanks.” By now utterly
perplexed, Courtney called Hank back. “Just spoke with the temp agency, and
they said the order for extra workers was cancelled.”

“Cancelled? But that’s impossible.
The temps reported for work here as scheduled.”

“You’re certain of that?”

“Yeah, I remember that day very
well. One of my supervisors went home sick, so I had to stay until everything
was loaded. I signed the temps’ time sheets myself.”

“Damn. The agency was sure someone
at corporate cancelled the work order.”

“Well, Wally Gilchrist does have
oversight. You might try him.”

All of a sudden a light bulb went
off in Courtney’s head. “Aha! You bet I will.”

She started to punch Wally’s
direct line, then hesitated a moment to steady her spinning head and gather her
thoughts. Clearly Wally must be the culprit in this. He had both motive and
opportunity. Motive because he had lost the promotion to Courtney. Opportunity because he was in charge of operations. Now he was out for revenge. Furious at
Courtney, he had obviously engineered a little incident of industrial sabotage
to try to undermine her.

And she mustn’t allow him to
squirm out of responsibility for this. Her resolve firm, she dialed his number.

“Hello,” answered a surly voice.

“Well, Wally, I just saw your
‘Grumpy Face’ stickers, and I must say I find them inspired.”

“‘Grumpy Face’ stickers?” replied
an astonished voice. “Is that you, Courtney? What are you babbling about?”

“Don’t you dare play coy with me.
This is serious.” Quickly Courtney recounted the catastrophe at the Colorado Springs store, and explained how she had tracked him down through the
distribution manager.

“Well, Courtney, you’ve hit a dead
end,” Wally sneered. “I know nothing about the cancelled work order with the
temp agency. Furthermore, I know of no one here who was involved.”

“A likely story. Wally, I know how
much you wanted that promotion. You’ve done nothing but attack me since I got
back to the office and was appointed CEO, so, your indulging in some petty
revenge doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

Wally gave a bitter laugh. “Well,
then, let me deliver a shocker: You can have your promotion, Courtney. I
wouldn’t touch it now with a forty-foot pole. As it happens, I’m drafting my
resignation letter even as we speak.”

“You’re
what
?”

“I’ve just received a great offer
from a Boston company. I’ll be gone as of the first of the month.”

“Ah—so this was your parting
shot?”

Wally’s voice went low with anger.
“Courtney, let me reiterate that I had nothing to do with the situation at the Colorado Springs store. Hell, if you’re looking for a culprit, why don’t you try M.
Billingham himself.”

“You think Mr. Bootle did this?”

“He’s certainly enough of a loco bird.
Look at the crazy stunt he pulled in New Orleans.”

Courtney was silent, thinking
furiously.

“For that matter, maybe you did
this yourself to get back at the old coot.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“So is your accusing me. Did I
mention my new position is at twice my current salary? Do you actually think I
would jeopardize that to pull some dirty trick against a company that doesn’t
even value me?”

Courtney felt abashed there and
was prepared to backpedal and try to smooth things over. But before she could
reply, Wally clicked off.

Courtney laid down her cell phone
and cursed under her breath. Wally hadn’t sounded at all like a guilty man, and
he also had cause to be P.O.’ed with her. She would try to find a way to make
peace with him before he left the company.

But now what? A rat loose
somewhere in the woodwork, and she had no clue as to how to find it.

Was Wally right? Might the culprit
be M. Billingham Bootle himself? But what would be his motive? Why would he
give her the promotion, then undercut her efforts?

Unless that had been his game plan
all along . . . The very thought made her seethe.

On the other hand, the perpetrator
could be Gideon or Getz, both of whom also harbored grudges against her. Or
even possibly one of their competitors.

And what of Mark? Would he try to
throw a wrench in the works in order to frustrate her into quitting? At first
she dismissed the notion as ridiculous—until she remembered how badly he seemed
to want to pry her away from her job.

How could she find out the truth?

***

Courtney had no sooner gotten back
inside the door to her reception area when Deb popped up, ashen-faced; she
could hear weird, snarling sounds coming from the direction of Deb’s laptop.
“Mrs. Billingham, you’re not going to believe this.”

Courtney gave a rueful laugh.
“After what I’ve just been through, I think I may be shockproof.”

Deb motioned her toward her desk.
“I doubt it.”

“My God, what now?”

Deb gestured at her computer
screen. “Our company website.”

With a groan, Courtney glanced at
the screen. Her mouth dropped open and she collapsed into Deb’s chair. Unable
to believe what she was seeing, she gasped, “This is a joke, right?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Courtney stared mystified at the
screen. Their sedate little website with its stuffed bears and baby gowns had
been invaded by pulsating, growling grumpy faces that spit and spewed and
snarled at the user. The graphics were vividly distasteful, the sound effects
harrowing enough to put a haunted house to shame.

“You’re got to be kidding,”
Courtney declared. “Those same yucky faces were plastered all over our product
line at the new store—”

“I know. I spoke with Ms. Lindsey
a few moments ago.”

“—but now they’ve gone viral! And
they’re even more revolting.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“What do you mean?”

Deb shoved the mouse toward her.
“Click here for animated graphics of babies screaming, having temper tantrums,
and—er—fits of projectile vomiting.”

Courtney gave a nervous little
laugh. “Now you are pulling my leg.”

Soberly shaking her head, Deb clicked
for her. “Welcome to the wonderful world of Internet hackers.”

As the next page came up, the one
that normally featured carriages and strollers, Courtney was confronted by four
animated baby graphics: one was screaming and beating its fists; the second
squalling; a third sticking out its tongue menacingly and wiggling fingers at
its ears; the fourth upchucking up all over the Bootle Baby Black Pram. Off to
the side, she spotted a cartoon of a young mother, grimacing and holding her
nose as she went back and forth to the diaper pail with a dirty diaper.

The graphics were quite clever,
Courtney had to admit.

“Well, anyone looking at this site
will learn right off the bat that contented babies are what BBB is all about,”
she commented drolly.

“Our head of IT called up to say
the graphics have migrated all over social media, and we’ve been jammed with
e-mails from angry customers who’ve seen them.”

“No doubt.”

“Plus they’re going to have to
shut down the entire website because our secure ordering encryption system may
have been compromised, as well.”

“Damn—could be a competitor trying
to steal trade secrets or disrupt our sales,” Courtney muttered. “But are we
sure none of the eggheads in our web design group did this as a prank?”

Deb shook her head. “They all
claimed innocence and swore we’ve been hacked. They promised they’ll have the
damage contained, and a new firewall established by tomorrow. That is if you
can authorize the overtime.”

“God, yes.” Courtney got to her
feet and realized she was shaking. “Look, Deb, take care of it, will you,
please? I need a few minutes alone.”

“Sure.” Deb touched her arm and
flashed her a look of concern. “Are you okay, boss?”

“Thanks for the concern, Deb. I’ll
make it.”

Courtney entered her office and
collapsed against the closed door. What a disaster! BBB had been targeted in a
bizarre and almost comical way—but the impact on their profits would be
anything but funny. Had the treason come from within? Or from an outside entity
hoping to scuttle their business?

Needing a shoulder to cry on, she
went to her desk and dialed Vanessa.

“Hello?” came her friend’s voice.

“Vanessa, this is Courtney.”

“Oh, hi, darling.”

“Are you at your laptop?”

She heard a dry laugh. “What makes
you think I live at my PC?”

“Come on, Vanessa. I’ve seen your
GlowBook pages and know about all the solitaire you play, though your secrets
are safe with me.”

“Naughty girl. As a matter of fact
my laptop is on. Do you need some help with a program again?”

“No, but can you get on the Net
and access our website?”

“Sure. Just give me a sec.” A few
minutes passed, and then Vanessa gasped, “Good grief! You’ve been hacked, my
girl.”

“No kidding.”

A low chuckle followed. “Clever
graphics.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What on earth happened?”

“I don’t know. Like you said,
someone hacked us. And it looks like the same person compromised the
merchandise for our new Colorado Springs store.” Briefly she explained about
the counterfeit tags.

“My heavens!” Vanessa declared
afterward. “Who do you think is behind this? Perhaps one of the three men you
bested for the promotion?”

“Perhaps. I was hoping you might
have some idea on who could have penetrated our site.”

“Well, offhand I know of no one at
corporate who would have those sorts of skills, unless it’s in your IT
department.”

“I know, but they all swear they
weren’t involved. Any idea how the hackers did this?”

“My dear, that’s why over my skill
set. Firewalls, passwords, html, Java . . . You’d need a senior level
programmer for this kind of skullduggery.”

“That’s what I suspected. You
know, before I knew about the website, I accused Wally Gilchrist of engineering
the sabotage at the Colorado Springs store—”

“Perhaps he did, but as far as
your website goes, I can tell you Wally wouldn’t know a megabyte from his own
behind. Why, one time at a company function, I tried to discuss the latest
spreadsheet software with him, and the man was totally at sea.”

“I’m sure you’re right. And, I
don’t think it’s him, because he told me he’s leaving for a position paying
twice as much.”

“Good for Wally.”

“I know. M. Billingham really did
a number on him.”

“Good old Ham.”

“But Wally did mention something
curious—that maybe M. Billingham is behind this—”

Vanessa chortled. “You know, I
wouldn’t put it past the old coot at all. Ham’s crazy enough, and would have
the wherewithal to get it done.”

“But to sabotage his own company .
. .”

Vanessa was silent a moment.
“Perhaps he wants to sabotage you, Courtney.”

“I’ve thought of that
possibility.”

“I can tell you from bitter
experience that while Ham may espouse ‘equal opportunities’ as far as female
employees are concerned, at heart he’s a dyed-in-the-wool chauvinist. Now
that’s he’s gotten what he wanted from you—”

“You mean, now that I’ve married
Mark.”

“Precisely. Maybe now he wants to
give you the proverbial boot, if you’ll pardon a pun.”

Courtney had to smile. “Guess
we’ll have to get busy catching the culprit.”

“Let me know if I can help, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks, Vanessa. And ‘bye.”

Despite her cheerful tone,
Courtney felt very worried.

Chapter Twenty-five

Back
to Contents

 

Courtney was exhausted by the time
she arrived back at her west Denver apartment. Outside her own door, she was
startled by clamorous sounds coming from the interior. She heard the
unmistakable laughter of a child, accompanied by a baby’s happy squeal.

Unlocking her door, she flung it
open to an astonishing scene. Her living room, usually an impeccable blend of
contemporary furnishings and tasteful accessories, was littered with colorful
plastic blocks and doll clothing. Even more astounding, across from her stood
Mark, holding her one-year-old nephew Joshua upside down and gently swinging
him to and fro as he gurgled happily, his blond curls sticking out at adorable
angles. Nearby, Joshua’s sister Brittany was laughing and clapping her hands.
Both children wore short denim overalls and T-shirts.

Courtney regarded her husband in
consternation. “Mark, what on earth are you doing here, and what are you doing
to my nephew?”

Mark froze in mid-swing. “Oh,
hello, Courtney.”

Brittany came rushing over,
hugging Courtney about the knees and grinning up at her gaminely. “Hi, Aunt
Cor’ney. Mark is swinging Joshie bumpside down.”

“So I can see.” Quickly Courtney
crossed the room, dubiously eyeing the baby, who was red-faced though still
chirping happily. “Hand me that baby at once,” she briskly ordered. “What are
you trying to do, anyway, make him upchuck?”

“Sorry, love,” Mark replied sheepishly,
righting the boy and settling him in Courtney’s arms. “Just having a spot of
fun. That is, Brittany suggested . . . Ooops.”

Even as he spoke, Joshua spit up
all over the front of Courtney’s fine suit, then grinned at her crookedly.
 Courtney grimaced. “Now look what you’ve done.” She handed the baby back
to Mark. “Hold him, please—and this time right side up.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

Courtney rushed into the kitchen
and began wetting a clean dishtowel. Brittany tailed along and tugged at her
skirt. “But Aunt Cor’ney, Joshie likes being bumpside down.”

“Does he like getting sick?”
Courtney inquired sweetly.

Brittany’s cherub-like face
screwed up in a pout. “I didn’t make him chuck up.”

“Yes, dear. Sorry.” Patting Brittany’s head, Courtney glanced up to see Mark had also followed her with the baby, and
now three sets of eyes were focused on her soberly. She cleaned up the baby,
rinsed out the towel, and began dabbing at the stains on her suit. In a tone of
strained patience, she addressed Mark. “Now will you please tell me what’s
going on here, and what you’re doing in my apartment with the children?”

“Well,” Mark began, shifting the
baby in his arms, “it all started when I couldn’t reach you this afternoon.
Your assistant told me you’d gone to the new store in Colorado Springs, but
when I tried your cell, I kept getting a busy signal or a ‘customer
unavailable’ message.”

Courtney tossed the towel into the
sink. “Yes, well, we had a bit of a crisis this afternoon.”

“Really?”

“Prior to the grand opening, someone
managed to put grumpy face stickers all over the merchandise.”

“Bumpy face stickers?” chortled Brittany.

“No, darling.
Grumpy
face.”

Mark appeared astounded. “You must
be kidding. How bizarre. Why would anyone do that?”

“Why? I assume to scare off our young
customers. And it worked.”

“I’m not scared of bumpy face
stickers, Aunt Cor’ney!” put in Brittany.

“Good for you, darling.” To Mark,
Courtney added, “This same terrorist also hacked into our website.”

“You’re kidding,” said Mark. “Are
you certain it was the same person?”

“Oh, yes, complete with the same
nauseating orange faces.”

“Orange faces,” repeated an awed Brittany. “Are they from Florida, Aunt Cor’ney?”

Courtney laughed. “No, darling.”

“But how would anyone get access
to both your merchandise and your website?” Mark asked.

“Ah, the marvels of technology,”
Courtney muttered.

“Such as?”

“It’s a complicated story. Ask me
later.” Courtney nodded toward the children. “Now . . . What are all of you
doing here?”

“Well, that’s really fairly
simple,” explained Mark. “After I couldn’t contact you, I decided to come to
your apartment and wait for you. Then outside your door I ran across Carla, who
was here with the children.”

“I see,” Courtney murmured.

“Well, it seems she and Jason were
about to leave on their planned Caribbean cruise. Their older son is staying
with a friend, and they were going to leave the younger two with your mom, but
she twisted her ankle this morning. Carla stopped by to see if you’d be willing
to fill in, so of course I said yes.”

Courtney was flabbergasted. “You .
. . you said
yes
?”

“The apartment manager, taking
pity on us all, let us in,” he rushed on. “Evidently she remembered meeting
Carla from her previous visits here. At any rate, I’ve already set up all the
children’s things, including the baby’s portable crib, in your guest room.” He
gestured toward the floor and grinned wryly. “And as you can see, Carla brought
along ample toys for them, as well. Really, everything’s all set.”

Courtney remained stunned. “Mark,
what were you thinking?”

“Well, it’s only for five days—”


Five days
?”

“And I assumed you wouldn’t want
your sister and brother-in-law to miss their cruise.”

“Well, perhaps not. But you might
have
asked
me, Mark. This is so typical of you, taking charge and making
decisions for me.”

“Courtney, really—”

“And at the worst possible time
for me at the office.”

Brittany was tugging at Courtney’s
skirts, and appeared ready to cry again. “Don’t you want us, Aunt Cor’ney?”

At once Courtney swept the child
up into her arms, hugging and kissing her. “Of course, darling. Certainly Aunt
Courtney wants you. There are just some logistical problems here—”

“Don’t’ like ’gistical po’blums,” Brittany pouted.

“I know, angel.” Cuddling the
child close, she looked at Mark over her head and whispered fiercely, “How on
earth am I going to do this?”

“I’ll help,” he offered
magnanimously.

“Yes, you will.” Gently she set Brittany down. “Honey, stay with Mark a moment, okay? I just want to call your mommy.”

“Okay,” said Brittany.

“You can’t,” stated Mark.

“What?” Courtney asked.

“Their plane left the airport half
an hour ago.”

Courtney gritted her teeth.

Brittany tugged at her skirt
again. “Aunt Cor’ney, are you mad at Mark now? Not his fault you can’t call
Mama.”

“Of course not, darling,” Courtney
replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to call
my
mommy instead.”

Courtney heard Mark’s low chuckle
as she quickly crossed back into the living room and picked up the phone. Her
mother answered on the third ring, sounding pained and tired. “Hello?”

“Mom, it’s Courtney.”

“Oh, hello, darling.”

“Are you okay?”

“Well, I’ve had better days. I
tripped down the back steps this morning and badly twisted my ankle. The doctor
says I must stay off it for at least three days.”

“Yes, I heard about that, and I’m sorry.
Mom, about Carla’s kids . . .”

“Oh, yes, I must thank you,
Courtney. After I was injured this morning, I tried to see if Caryn or Christy
could keep the kids, but as you know they both have work.”

Tell me about it
, Courtney
was tempted to add, though she kept her peace.

“Then Carla called me from the
airport to let me know you had agreed to keep them.”

“Well, actually, I didn’t agree.
Mark did.”

“Oh.” A brief, awkward silence
fell. “Is there a problem, dear?”

Courtney bit her lip, then
immediately realized she couldn’t ask her injured mother to chase after two
small rambunctious children. “No, mom. No problem at all.”

“Because I’d hate for Carla and
Jason to have to return from their cruise. It’s their first real vacation alone
since the baby was born, and I know they’ve saved for years. It’s nonrefundable
too, I understand.”

Courtney could only groan. “Yes,
we certainly wouldn’t want them to miss that.”

“Think on the bright side, dear.
This should put you more in the family mood.”

At once Courtney was suspicious.
“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, dear. Only that you’ll
be prepared when . . . I mean, don’t you and Mark want children of your own at
some point?”

Courtney didn’t answer directly.
“Well, for the moment it seems we have some. Look, Mom, you just take care of
yourself and don’t worry about the kids, okay?”

“Thanks, darling. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Courtney laid down the receiver
and turned to see Mark, Brittany, and the baby once again watching her
expectantly. She clapped her hands and forced a cheerful tone. “Well, it seems
I’ve got some very special houseguests for the next five days.”

“Don’t you mean
we
have
some special houseguests?” asked Mark.

“Have you forgotten you don’t live
here?” she blurted without thought.

Meanwhile Brittany appeared
amazed, her blue eyes going wide. “Aunt Cor’ney, why doesn’t Mark live here?
Isn’t he your daddy?”

“Darling, I’m her husband,” Mark
corrected patiently.

Brittany whirled on Courtney.
“Well? Isn’t he?”

She met Mark’s tenderly amused
gaze. “Yes, he is.”

“Then he can stay!” Brittany beamed at Mark. “You can stay, okay?”

Mark patted Brittany’s head.
“Well, Courtney? It would be a great deal easier for me to help out that way.”

Courtney shook her head and had to
laugh. “Sure, let’s make this a complete menagerie.”

“Don’t like this ma’gery,” pouted Brittany.

“Fine. What do you like, darling?”

The child broke out in a grin.
“Pizza! I’m hungry!”

“Well, that sounds like a splendid
idea,” agreed Mark. “Come to think of it, I’m pretty well famished myself. What
say we all go out?”

“I’ll get Joshie’s diaper bag!”
volunteered Brittany.

The child danced away. A silence
fell between Courtney and Mark, then he smirked. Courtney could have pinched
him, except that he looked so darn cute, standing there holding the baby.

“Don’t you dare gloat,” she
scolded. “You’re pretty darn proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Actually, at the moment, I’m
pretty darn proud of you,” came his unexpected reply. He crossed over to her
side, quickly kissed her lips, then deposited the baby into her arms. “Here.
Get used to it, my fine little mama.”

Courtney was about to issue a
retort, but then Joshua gurgled up at her, brightly repeating, “Mama, mama,
mama!” She buried her face in the baby’s soft hair, her irate words forgotten
in the rush of happiness she felt.

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