Investigating 101. Debra Webb

gotten the evidence.

      Pictures didn’t lie.

      He tapped the nine-by-twelve envelope on the passenger seat of his car. Oh, yeah, today was going to be a very good day. Less than one year out of college and he would make senior associate at the agency.

      He’d gotten a callback on his résumé even before graduating. Todd had never believed in waiting until the last minute. He’d liked being prepared, knowing what his future held. So he’d sent out résumés six weeks before graduation. The Wellsly Agency of private investigations had contacted him immediately.

      It wasn’t every day a student with a major in psychology and a minor in criminology knocked on their door. The way he saw it, his choice of studies gave him an edge as an investigator. That was exactly how he’d known that his colleague was up to no good. He had a knack for reading people.

      Todd parked his beat-up Volvo in the only vacant slot in the parking lot of the building his agency called home. Six months on staff and he was up for promotion already. The only problem was, there was only one senior associate position available and both he and his colleague Janelle Dryer wanted it. Janelle had two months on him at the agency. She also had a killer pair of legs.

      But she’d made one fatal mistake. She hadn’t covered her tracks well enough.

      The agency had suspected for a while now that someone amid their ranks was leaking information to the attorneys of certain high-profile targets. At least two incidents had led to this conclusion, but no one had been able to nail the culprit.

      Until now.

      Todd had decided to do a little extra investigating himself. The fact that his nemesis was the leak just made victory all the more sweet. When he’d set out to do this he’d merely hoped the move would get him the attention he wanted, and, of course, the promotion. He’d never expected to knock the competition completely out of the running in the same blow. Janelle was guilty. No question in his mind. Why else would she be sleeping with one of the attorneys involved? No reason he could think of. At the very least, this infraction made her unreliable and put him at the top of the food chain.

      He felt a prick of guilt, might even have felt some remorse if Dryer hadn’t backstabbed him three times already in the past six months. She’d taken every opportunity to make him look bad. Had accomplished her mission once. But this wasn’t about revenge—this was about survival of the fittest. The best man should get the job and all that jazz.

      He was the best man.

      He hustled through the front door and straight up to the bank of elevators a full thirty minutes before his workday actually began. His immediate supervisor, Chet Syler, was waiting. Todd had called him at home last night and informed him that he had evidence as to the identity of the leak. His supervisor had insisted that the information be kept between the two of them until whatever evidence Todd possessed could be confirmed. Todd didn’t have a problem with that. It was hard to dispute Dryer and the attorney rolling between the sheets when he had a whole roll of prints to back up his assertion.

      He stabbed the button for the seventh floor and leaned against the back wall of the elevator. He held the envelope firmly in one hand. It wasn’t that he enjoyed ratting people out, but this was business. Dryer would have done the same to him. It didn’t take a degree in psychology to know that. And he had one.

      On the seventh floor he said hello to the receptionist already at her post then strode confidently to Syler’s office. He didn’t particularly care that the receptionist didn’t bother returning his greeting. Maybe she was distracted. Whatever. He had bigger things on his mind. Such as his first promotion.

      Feeling triumphant and utterly satisfied, Todd took one last deep breath before knocking on the door.

      Oh, yeah, today was definitely going to be a stellar day.

      Syler glanced up but didn’t bother standing as Todd entered his office. Funny thing was, his superior didn’t look the least bit happy. Without so much as a good morning, Syler reached for the envelope. Confusion elbowing out his victorious afterglow, Todd placed the envelope in his boss’s hand. He didn’t sit since he hadn’t been invited to. The whole situation suddenly felt off kilter somehow.

      Syler shuffled through the glossy eight-by-tens, his expression never changing. Somehow Todd hadn’t expected this kind of reaction. Anger, disappointment, jealousy maybe, but not this total lack of emotion.

      The older man shoved the pictures back into the envelope and turned his full attention on Todd. Todd had the uneasy feeling that he’d just walked into a trap.

      “Did you know that Ms. Dryer had been married and divorced?” Syler asked, his voice flat as he delivered the seemingly irrelevant question. “Her maiden name is Syler.”

      Todd blinked as the relevance hit him square between the eyes. “No, sir,” he admitted before swallowing hard to force down the massive lump of crow in his throat. “I didn’t know that.” But he knew exactly what it meant. “She’s your daughter?”

      The blush of fury started at his superior’s crisp white collar. “That’s right.” He snatched up the incriminating envelope and shoved it into his middle desk drawer. “I’ve suspected for some time that one of the senior partners was the leak. I asked Ms. Dryer to find the truth.” His jaw flexed twice with rage. “She was to do whatever necessary to accomplish her mission. Today she will announce her findings in a closed briefing to the senior partners.”

      The whole scenario suddenly made perfect sense to Todd. Syler was a partner, but not a senior partner. If he could prove one of the senior partners was the leak, he would be in line for a promotion, as would his lovely daughter. The information she had obtained would cinch both moves.

      Oh, man. “I can assure you, sir,” Todd put in quickly, “no one will hear about her methods from me.”

      “The problem is, Mr. Thompson—” Syler rose from his chair as he said this “—I don’t like you. My daughter doesn’t like you. Let’s just leave it at that. When you’ve cleared out your desk, you can pick up your severance pay from the receptionist.”

      There was nothing else to say. Todd knew a brick wall when he hit one and he’d damned sure rammed headfirst into this one.

      Todd cleared out his desk and picked up his severance pay as instructed. All under the careful watch of a security guard. As hard as he’d tried to be out before the staff started to arrive, he ran into Dryer in the lobby. She smirked and gave him a universal hand signal that stated her position quite clearly.

      She’d won. The promotion was hers and he was out of a job.

      He tossed the box of odds and ends into the backseat of his car and then dropped behind the wheel. At least it was Friday. He’d have time to look over the classifieds and update his résumé before hitting the streets on Monday.

      The severance pay would cover the coming month’s rent.

      He swore as he twisted the key in the ignition. Maybe he should have gone to grad school. His folks had said he’d regret not pursuing a higher degree. But no, he’d been too on fire to get out there and dive into the world of investigations. It had been his dream since he was a kid.

      It should be simple. He was good. Just ask any of his professors. Hell, he’d even lived a double life for three whole months to write a thesis like no other. The plan had backfired a little, but he’d come out all right. His advisor had secretly told him he’d never read a thesis so compelling. So what if Todd had pretended to be someone he wasn’t to make it happen. No harm had been done, except to a few egos.

      Oh, well. Chicago was a big city. There had to be an agency that would appreciate his particular skills.

      He pulled over to the curb in front of the diner where he usually grabbed breakfast on Saturdays. Might as well eat and maybe scan today’s paper. Anything was better than going back to his studio apartment and walking the floors.

      He couldn’t call his parents. They would only plead with him to come