Rich (Benson Security #5) - Janet Elizabeth Henderson Page 0,64
describe the filling. “Go back ten minutes, see if we can get a shot of whoever that is before they hid in the doorway.”
As they spooled through the footage, Harvard felt that familiar knot in his stomach that told him he was missing something. And he hated to miss details. Suddenly, one of the camera feeds from outside West Building turned to static before coming back on, then going off again. It cut in and out for about fifteen minutes.
“Signal jammer?” Ryan said. “Pointed at the camera covering the door?”
“While Charles was walking and waving his arms around? That would be hard to maintain and obvious to anyone watching. Can you go check the camera?”
Ryan was out of his seat and heading for the door as Harvard dialed Rachel again.
“Stop. Calling. Me,” she said. “It’s clingy and annoying.”
That was his girl, always making him feel wanted. “I need you and Elle down in the security department conference room.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” was her irritated reply before she cut the call.
With a smile and a shake of his head, Harvard turned his attention to the image showing the man’s shoes. Where had he seen them before?
Chapter Eighteen
“Seriously?” Rachel said to Harvard as he pointed at the screen in the utility closet that security called a conference room. “You brought me all the way down here to identify shoes?”
The infuriating man just folded his arms and stood there, staring at her.
“Fine,” she huffed. “They’re Gucci Horsebit loafers. I can’t tell the color because…” She waved a hand at the black and white images. “I can tell you that they’re regular calf leather and not crocodile skin.”
His smile was slow and far too sexy for the workplace. Rachel glanced at Elle to see if she’d noticed, but her attention was on her laptop—as usual.
“You have a family member who’s partial to those shoes?” Harvard asked.
Rachel couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Um, all of them? Those Gucci shoes are a wardrobe staple. I can’t think of one man in my family who doesn’t own a pair. They’ve sold like hotcakes ever since John F. Kennedy wore them, and they’ve been one of Gucci’s flagship designs since they first released them in the fifties. And, of course, the horsebit name is a nod to their history of making saddles.”
“Of course.” Elle snorted. “How do you know this stuff?”
“Doesn’t everyone know about Gucci?”
“No, Rachel.” Elle gave her a look that said she clearly despaired of her. “Not everyone has Gucci’s history memorized.”
Rachel shrugged. “Whatever. Now, is someone going to tell me what you found?” She glanced around. “Where is Ryan?”
“Right here.” He walked into the room holding a ziplock plastic bag with a tiny black box inside. He flashed Rachel a grin. “Did you miss me?”
“Why is everybody asking me that today? I don’t miss any of you when you’re gone. Usually, I’m just thankful.”
“You wound me.” Ryan handed the bag to Harvard. “Found that attached to the camera. It’s a basic jammer with a receiver. Set it up with your mobile phone, and you can use an app to switch it on and off. You can buy them everywhere.” He sneered at the box. “It’s like our thief went into Currys and loaded up on over-the-counter tech. This is bargain-basement stuff. I can’t believe they got away with stealing for this long.”
“I know, right?” Elle said with equal disgust. “That’s exactly how I felt when I found that low-tech piece of rubbish glued under Francesca’s desk. It’s insulting. Couldn’t they have put a bit of effort into their illegal activities?”
Rachel caught the confused expression on Harvard’s face. “What is it?” she asked.
“Currys?” he said.
“Britain’s Radio Shack.”
“Gotcha.”
“Did you see that?” Ryan said to Elle. “They’re totally sleeping together.”
“And the bet is off. Remember that. I don’t owe anybody any money because the bet is off.”
“No,” Ryan said. “But then, it’s all relative isn’t it? Not everybody has your millions. What does it feel like? Being rich. Just for a second, let me live vicariously through you. Describe it to me.”
“Being rich means never having to put up with idiots, unless you choose to,” Rachel said. “You can either pay them to go away or remove yourself to an island.”
Ryan nodded in all seriousness. “I need to get rich.”
“Okay,” Elle said. “I can’t clean up the images any more than we have. You need to talk