{"id":3299,"date":"2024-10-02T07:53:09","date_gmt":"2024-10-02T11:53:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/naccarato.org\/Spencer\/?page_id=3299"},"modified":"2024-10-02T12:16:38","modified_gmt":"2024-10-02T16:16:38","slug":"the-crossing-by-oliver-dean-spencer","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/naccarato.org\/Spencer\/the-crossing-by-oliver-dean-spencer\/","title":{"rendered":"The Crossing, A Devon West Mystery"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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The Crossing, A Devon West Mystery<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
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Blurb:<\/h4>\n\n\n\n

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\u2019s 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.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Excerpt:<\/h4>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s been no mistake,\u201d <\/strong>she countered, throwing in one of her crocodile smiles for good measure. \u201cWe keep meticulous records. The problem must lie elsewhere.\u201d  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat about a system hack?\u201d I asked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOur servers are redundant and behind a firewall,\u201d she further countered\u2014her steely, blue eyes, now trying to punch holes through my accusations. \u201cAnd they\u2019re 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.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI see.\u201d  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But I didn’t.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We both knew she was pushing the company\u2019s doublespeak.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

No one system was that secure, especially if an insider hacked it. <\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But I decided to not push the issue for the moment.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had something else in mind. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWill that be all, Mr. West.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c… um \u2026 oh, yes. There is one last thing. Do you have a Mike Evans working here?\u201d  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This last question took her off guard. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh, who?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMike Evans.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo. Not that I\u2019m aware of,\u201d she answered a bit too quickly. \u201cBut then again,\u201d she pushed on, \u201cwe have over two hundred employees worldwide.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She gave me a long hard look, trying to gauge my reaction to her suspect answer.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn\u2019t say anything.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I just stared back.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally, she begrudgingly reached over to her intercom, pressing one of a dozen buttons.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A voice responded almost immediately. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, Ms. Daniels.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCould you come in here a moment.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A woman in her late twenties, outfitted in a neat, navy blue cotton blazer, and matching pants, offset by a stark white blouse, entered.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She carried a stern, expressionless face\u2014her 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.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stopping only inches from where I sat and without giving me a second thought, asked, \u201cdid you need something, Ms. Daniels?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes. Can you have Human Resources do a check for a… I\u2019m sorry,\u201d turning back to me, \u201cwhat was that name?\u201d  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wasn\u2019t buying into her absent-mindedness and found it curious that she would be pushing it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEvans, his name is Mike Evans.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes. 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.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRight away, Ms. Daniels.\u201d she said, turning and exiting as eagerly and silently as when she had first appeared.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sensed something familiar about her, but I couldn\u2019t quite place it.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I followed her exit with a long stare. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWill there be anything else, Mr. West?\u201d Daniels demanded, vying for my attention again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh, yes\u2026 I mean, no. That covers it. Thank you so much for your time.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou will make sure that all parties concerned know that we cooperated fully?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And with that she lowered her head, feigning a great interest in certain papers on her desk\u2014making it clear my presence was no longer warranted.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I, in turn, took a moment to study her.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I reckoned she was in her mid-forties, a career professional and exceptionally good at her job.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I figured she believed the hype her company stood for and would go down fighting if need be.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The fact she earned six figures for such loyalty helped.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I got up to leave, I considered telling her to have a wonderful day but thought better of it\u2014the gesture would be lost on her.<\/em> <\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I expected to run into Ms. Andrews, on my way out, but she was nowhere in sight.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Neither were the files I had asked for.<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Once outside, I took a glance<\/strong> back toward the twenty-ninth floor, where my encounter with Ms. Daniels took place.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hope Industries made up the top three floors of a thirty-story high rise located in the business sector of Montreal.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hated skyscrapers, on account I suffered from vertigo.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But it also had to do with my preference of having my feet planted firmly on the ground\u2014knowing where I stood.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The streets were where I grew up\u2014surrounded by its smells, its dirt, and the grind of everyday living. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Up there, in Daniel\u2019s office, I felt a disconnect, as if someone was performing surgery on my soul\u2014trying to extract any remaining traces of my humanity.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was ironic that I should feel that way in <\/em>a <\/em>place named after one of the seven virtues.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Available on Amazon<\/a> and other fine book stores<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Publisher: \u200e Original Press (February 7, 2023) \/ Language: \u200e English \/ Paperback: \u200e 138 pages \/ ISBN-10: \u200e 1989577105 \/ ISBN-13: \u200e 978-1989577103 \/ Item Weight: \u200e 7.7 ounces \/ Dimensions: \u200e 5.25 x 0.35 x 8 inches<\/p>\n\n\n\n