The Crossing, A Devon West Mystery
Blurb:
Introducing Devon West, a university professor who specializes in Shakespearean Lit and moonlights as a private investigator. In his latest case, a young executive, Stephanie Henderson, goes missing after a trip to Cairo, while representing Hope Industries, an international, Christian-based charitable organization based out of Montreal. It’s been two months since her disappearance and her father is desperate. The authorities are not taking her disappearance seriously, so he turns to West. With the help of his friend and mentor, Detective Joe Cappelletti, of the SPVM, West unravels the dark secrets and true purpose behind Hope Industries’ nefarious business empire.
Excerpt:
There’s been no mistake,” she countered, throwing in one of her crocodile smiles for good measure. “We keep meticulous records. The problem must lie elsewhere.”
“What about a system hack?” I asked.
“Our servers are redundant and behind a firewall,” she further countered—her steely, blue eyes, now trying to punch holes through my accusations. “And they’re updated with the latest software. So, any possibility that a hack, glitch or virus may have altered the file is also out of the question.”
“I see.”
But I didn’t.
We both knew she was pushing the company’s doublespeak.
No one system was that secure, especially if an insider hacked it.
But I decided to not push the issue for the moment.
I had something else in mind.
“Will that be all, Mr. West.”
“… um … oh, yes. There is one last thing. Do you have a Mike Evans working here?”
This last question took her off guard.
“Ah, who?”
“Mike Evans.”
“No. Not that I’m aware of,” she answered a bit too quickly. “But then again,” she pushed on, “we have over two hundred employees worldwide.
She gave me a long hard look, trying to gauge my reaction to her suspect answer.
I didn’t say anything.
I just stared back.
Finally, she begrudgingly reached over to her intercom, pressing one of a dozen buttons.
A voice responded almost immediately.
“Yes, Ms. Daniels.”
“Could you come in here a moment.”
A woman in her late twenties, outfitted in a neat, navy blue cotton blazer, and matching pants, offset by a stark white blouse, entered.
She carried a stern, expressionless face—her bleached blond hair pulled up into a bun, except for the few strands that had escaped their captivity, now fronting her speckled, hazel-green eyes.
Stopping only inches from where I sat and without giving me a second thought, asked, “did you need something, Ms. Daniels?”
“Yes. Can you have Human Resources do a check for a… I’m sorry,” turning back to me, “what was that name?”
I wasn’t buying into her absent-mindedness and found it curious that she would be pushing it.
“Evans, his name is Mike Evans.”
“Yes. That’s right. Mike Evans. Have HR dig up whatever they can on this Evans and have a printout ready for Mr. West before he leaves.”
“Right away, Ms. Daniels.” she said, turning and exiting as eagerly and silently as when she had first appeared.
I sensed something familiar about her, but I couldn’t quite place it.
I followed her exit with a long stare.
“Will there be anything else, Mr. West?” Daniels demanded, vying for my attention again.
“Ah, yes… I mean, no. That covers it. Thank you so much for your time.”
“You will make sure that all parties concerned know that we cooperated fully?”
“Of course.”
And with that she lowered her head, feigning a great interest in certain papers on her desk—making it clear my presence was no longer warranted.
I, in turn, took a moment to study her.
I reckoned she was in her mid-forties, a career professional and exceptionally good at her job.
I figured she believed the hype her company stood for and would go down fighting if need be.
The fact she earned six figures for such loyalty helped.
As I got up to leave, I considered telling her to have a wonderful day but thought better of it—the gesture would be lost on her.
I expected to run into Ms. Andrews, on my way out, but she was nowhere in sight.
Neither were the files I had asked for.
Once outside, I took a glance back toward the twenty-ninth floor, where my encounter with Ms. Daniels took place.
Hope Industries made up the top three floors of a thirty-story high rise located in the business sector of Montreal.
I hated skyscrapers, on account I suffered from vertigo.
But it also had to do with my preference of having my feet planted firmly on the ground—knowing where I stood.
The streets were where I grew up—surrounded by its smells, its dirt, and the grind of everyday living.
Up there, in Daniel’s office, I felt a disconnect, as if someone was performing surgery on my soul—trying to extract any remaining traces of my humanity.
It was ironic that I should feel that way in a place named after one of the seven virtues.
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Publisher: Original Press (February 7, 2023) / Language: English / Paperback: 138 pages / ISBN-10: 1989577105 / ISBN-13: 978-1989577103 / Item Weight: 7.7 ounces / Dimensions: 5.25 x 0.35 x 8 inches