Free 82 Desire by Julie Smith

Granted, it’s a big company and there might be quite a few openings there—but what if they send me out on some other job? I mean, when you consider the likelihood—”
    He patted empty space. “Ms. Wallis. Calm down now. When you’re an old beat-up PI with the wrong demographics, you gotta figure out some way to stay in business. I got a mutually beneficial arrangement with a gentleman at CompTemps named L. J. Currie.”
    He sat back smugly, letting her take it in. When she thought she thoroughly had the hang of it, she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to be involved with such a scheme. Or more accurately, she was quite sure she did—she simply understood that she wasn’t supposed to want to. She summoned as acid a tone as she could. “How nice for Mr. Currie. Industrial espionage must pay handsomely.”
    “Well, I don’t know about that, but it keeps him out of jail. See, I know a thing or two about Mr. Currie.”
    “And the minute he helped you the first time, you knew something else about him.”
    “There’s more to the information highway than the Internet.”
    Talba went over to Gravier Street, where CompTemps had its offices, resisting the urge to brush off the sleaze like so much lint.
    Within the hour, she was walking into the air-conditioned chambers of United Oil Company, where she was sent to the seventeenth floor to do a job so easy she could perform it in her sleep—setting up new workstations. They had staff people installing the network cabling and routers and printers—pretty much a grunt-work job, but one that had to be supervised by someone who knew the whole system. Cheapo temps like herself could install the software.
    At the end of the day, she went back to Allred’s office, where she found him having a drink and reading the paper, his feet up on his desk.
    “You look like something out of an old movie. Real old.”
    He gave her a half grin. “I try. Drink, Ms. Wallis?”
    “No thanks.”
    Allred took his feet off the desk and sat up in his chair, acting more businesslike. “What department they put you in?”
    “Acquisitions and Property.”
    “Ho!” It was an exclamation almost of disbelief. He struck the table as he said it. “Currie’s gone and outdone himself. Who you workin’ for?”
    “With, Mr. Allred, with. I’m working with a brother and a white man who are in exceptionally crabby moods because they’re software designers who got pulled off their current fascinating assignments to do stupid tech work.”
    “A brother. Well, well, well. Better and better. Were you nice to Mr. Brother?”
    “Aka Mr. Robert Tyson, no relation to Mike.” Talba crossed her fingers. “We’re like that.” In fact, it had occurred to her that, once she found the Pill Man, she might want a cushy job designing software at United Oil, and Mr. Robert Tyson might be just the person to help her. She’d spent a good part of the day buddying up to him. He was nice, he was smart, he was pissed off because he couldn’t get no respect, and she was all sympathy. Allred said, “The guy we’re interested in is Russell Fortier. I think he might be in your department.”
    “I’m not sure, but I might have heard the name. He’s a muck-a-muck, isn’t he?”
    “I believe his title is manager of property. Think you can locate his office?”
    “Sure.”
    “Take a look at this.” He held up a tiny object. “Hold out your hand.”
    He dropped the object into her palm.
    “Know what it is?”
    It didn’t look like anything much, but she had a hunch. “It must be a bug.”
    “Excellent, Ms. Wallis. Go to the head of the class. It’s a little receiver. You need to get that in his office somewhere.”
    “His office? I can get in his computer a lot easier than I can get in his office. How am I going to do that?”
    “Well, now. Here’s where you learn to be a detective. That’s gon’ have to be your problem—you’re the operative on the scene.”
    There was nothing to do but bull ahead.