Once Upon Stilettos

Page 13

“Yes. Do you really think we have a spy?”
“It does seem likely.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“Not yet. I will talk to Prophets and Lost and see if they have any insight, but it’s very likely that this person would be veiled to their vision. No, this will require old-fashioned detective work to find the culprit.” He then looked at me long and hard, to the point that I felt like his eyes were boring holes in me. “Katie, I have an assignment for you.”
I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say, but rather than make a fool of myself by jumping to an assumption, I asked anyway. “An assignment?”
“I’d like you to help me find our spy.”
“Me? But I’m not even magical. How am I supposed to track this person down?”
“Any magic a spy uses to conceal his activities will be useless against you. That makes you uniquely qualified for this project.”
“And I’m sure he’ll know that.”
He gave me a sly smile. “Which is why I must ask you to tell no one about this assignment or otherwise give any indication of your task.”
I stood up. Pacing seemed like a good way to work off the tension so I wouldn’t freak out in front of my boss. “You want me to figure out who our spy is without anyone figuring out what I’m doing? That would make me a spy, and I don’t know how to be a spy.” Everything I knew about spying I’d learned from watching Alias, and I doubted I could solve this by putting on sexy lingerie and a fake accent. Sure, I’d had a few bits of luck that made me look good, like catching an intruder trying to sneak into R&D under cover of invisibility, but that had more to do with being in the right place at the right time with my magical immunity. It wasn’t like I’d been out looking for invisible intruders. In fact, I was pretty sure if I’d gone looking for an intruder, I wouldn’t have found anything.
I was clueless about surveillance, interrogation, and all that, which seemed pretty crucial for catching a corporate mole. I wasn’t devious enough myself to think a step ahead of someone devious enough to do something like spy for the enemy without them figuring out what I was up to. It took all my wits just to keep the secret of my job from my roommates. I wasn’t sure I could add another layer to all the secrets I had to keep.
“But you are discerning. You have a way of seeing the truth, magical or otherwise. And I trust you completely. It would hardly do for me to assign someone who might be the spy to help find the spy, now, would it?”
“That does make sense,” I admitted. “But the fact that you trust me doesn’t mean I’ll actually be any good at this.”
“Who else would you have me choose for this task?”
“Well, there’s Sam and his security team. Isn’t this their job?”
“And everyone knows it’s their job. People behave differently when they know they’re being investigated. Mr. Palmer, as the spy’s apparent target, isn’t in the best position to investigate, though he may be helpful to you.”
I knew when I’d been beaten. I could keep arguing about this all day or give in now, all with the same outcome. I stopped pacing and folded my arms across my chest. “Do you have any suspects in mind?”
“Everyone in this company is a potential suspect until you have evidence to eliminate them.”
“Even you?”
“If you find evidence implicating me, I would prefer that you not dismiss it without investigating further.”
I gulped. I wasn’t sure how many employees there were in total at MSI, and I doubted I’d met even half of them. My job as the CEO’s assistant and head of our marketing efforts gave me some excuse for visiting other departments, but looking casual would be a challenge.
“Okay, then,” I said. “I guess I’d better get to work.”
“Good luck. Oh, and Miss Chandler? I’d prefer to keep the presence of the spy a secret for the time being. We may retain some advantage if this person doesn’t know he or she has been discovered.”
“My lips are sealed.”
As I returned to Trix’s desk, I mused that Merlin must not be aware of the company grapevine. Someone had to have noticed Owen’s angry stalk from his office. That would then be discussed and analyzed, and the conclusion spread around the entire company. I figured I’d be hearing about it by quitting time.
It turned out that I’d underestimated the grapevine.
I’d barely seated myself in Trix’s chair—which wasn’t too comfortable for someone who wasn’t hovering above it—when a voice startled me. “Lunch?” it asked.