Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,56
recruits there.”
A man paused at the door and turned to peer into the small glass window.
“What’s he doing?”
“Iris scan.”
Wow. Now she really wanted to see inside the lab. But Seth was already moving on, steering her back to the executive offices. Bailey realized they’d made a full loop.
“Seth?”
They turned to see Levon race-walking up to them, cell phone in hand.
“I was just looking for you two.” He gave Bailey a beaming smile. “Ms. Oberhoff has an opening at four forty-five. I squeezed you in.”
* * *
* * *
LUCINDA’S OFFICE HAD the same view as the Peloton brigade—hills, lake, bridge, and the distant Austin skyline. When Bailey stepped into her office, the CEO stood beside the wall of glass talking on her phone, and Bailey noted that she’d changed clothes. Instead of a suit and stilettos, she wore a form-fitting tank top and bike shorts. She had a hand planted on her hip and an elbow jutting out. Silhouetted against the glass that way, she looked like a scarecrow.
Levon led Bailey to a black leather seating area.
“She’ll be right with you,” he whispered.
Bailey sat down on the sofa and pulled a fresh notebook from her purse as she glanced around the austere office. No framed photos or diplomas. The desk was a huge sheet of glass balanced on a slab of granite. The only knickknacks on the desk were a trio of smooth stones, and Bailey craned her neck to read the words engraved on them: SECURITY. PRIVACY. LIBERTY. She managed not to roll her eyes.
Lucinda ended the call and dropped her cell phone on the desk. “Ms. Rhoads.” She strode over and reached out a hand. “Glad to have you here.”
The handshake was firm and bony. Lucinda had her hair back in a stubby ponytail. Up close, Bailey saw the lines on her tanned skin. Clearly, she spent a lot of time outdoors, and Bailey wondered how that fit in with her workaholic lifestyle.
“Excuse the clothes,” she said. “I’m on my way to a ride.”
“Do you go on the lake or—”
“I ride home every night. That’s nine point two miles. I’m training for a triathlon in Napa.” She perched on the arm of the sofa, looming over her, and Bailey resisted the urge to scoot away. “I understand you’re writing an article about data security?”
“Not exactly. I’m interested in one of your clients in town. The Villa Paloma Museum?”
“Our clients are confidential.”
“I understand.”
“But I can tell you the list includes an array of Fortune 500 companies, as well as several universities, museums, hospitals—”
“What about government clients?”
She paused a beat. “No, actually. We’re in the exploratory stages right now, but nothing’s come through yet.”
“I understand your main service is background checks?”
“That’s one of our services. We also provide cloud services, document security, and on-site security guards in some cases—although we outsource that to a third party. We facilitate drug screening. The list goes on. I can have Seth provide you with a comprehensive list.”
“I think I saw one on your website. How does all that work, exactly, when it comes to data security? People provide you with such sensitive information.”
“We have strict procedures in place to protect any and all information that comes to us, I can assure you.”
“Do you ever share client data with third parties?”
“Never. How would we stay in business?”
“What about selling client data to marketers?”
“Never. And we don’t sell data that has been stripped of identifiers, either. Some companies do, but Granite Tech doesn’t engage in that practice. Security and privacy are our top priorities, which is one reason we’re going on three quarters of double-digit growth in market share. Write that down.”
Bailey did as instructed. “Have you ever had issues with data being targeted by hackers?”
“No.”
Bailey paused to give her a chance to expand. “I thought I heard about a phishing scam from several years ago.”
“Oh, that.” She waved her hand. “That was minor. I think maybe twenty people were affected by that. Really, nothing worth noting, even though the local press made hay with it. We did a comprehensive security review and changed our internal email procedures after that incident.”
Bailey scribbled a few words, conscious of Lucinda’s gaze on her notepad. She used a shorthand barely anyone could read, but it was entertaining when they tried.
“And since then?” Bailey asked. “Have there been any data breaches, to your knowledge?”
“No.”
“None at all?”
“None.”
Levon stepped into the room. “Ms. Oberhoff, it’s five o’clock.”
She stood up. “I’m sure Seth can answer any further questions. Oh, there he is.