Chief Among Us

By L. A. Noble

Early Monday morning, each Central Insurance Company employee had an email. In that email was a detailed ten-year salary history of each employee in the division. Those juicy details were quickly digested and disseminated. Yelling and fighting ensued; the building had to be evacuated. Security analyst Kristy Backman might have identified the emailer, if she hadn’t been murdered mid-morning. Payroll analyst Ramona Anderson may have explained what Kristy knew, if she hadn’t been killed that evening. Central Illinois was in shock. Central Insurance Company blamed the Chief - their ex-Chief Financial Officer, Maria Majors - and her son Nate Lawson, their new security intern. Amateur sleuths Max and Michelle wanted to get involved. Nate Lawson was Max’s nephew. The Chief was Max’s ex-sister-in-law. Max and Michelle were surprised to find that Central Insurance Company had been dealing with discrimination issues, but they were stunned to learn the details of Central’s elite Swingers Club.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. A. Noble
• Release date: Jun 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463250341

L. A. Noble

L. A. NOBLE is the author of the Max and Michelle mystery novels ABOUT TIME ALREADY and BUILT TO ORDER. Born in Iowa, Lou Ann Noble raised her two children in Central Illinois after graduating from Illinois State University with degrees in Mathematics and Psychology. Series crime-solving duo Max and Michelle are from fictional Blessington, Illinois. They use their common sense and computer analysis skills to solve crimes. Lou Ann understands them well. She spent nearly 35 years working for a Bloomington, Illinois insurance company in various computer departments. ABOUT TIME ALREADY character Jenny Masters is from New Attica, a fictional small town. Lou Ann grew up in Iowa where most towns are small towns. BUILT TO ORDER character Amber McMillan is from a fictional farming family. Lou Ann is proud to be a member of real Iowa farm families.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Monday, October 31, 2011

Chief, Jeffrey said, I can’t believe you posed for that picture. What were you thinking?

What picture? Chief Financial Officer, Maria Majors, was running late that morning, rushing to her office.

Look. Vice President of Operations, Jeffrey Clinton, held up his phone. He’d been waiting for her in the executive area they shared.

Maria looked. Oh, my God. She couldn’t believe it. There was a picture of her, topless, possibly trying to look seductive. Tom Smith had texted the picture to Jeffrey along with one short sentence: Very nice SEEING the Chief last night.

Jeffrey pocketed his phone and stood watching her, still waiting for an answer.

Maria was never sure what Jeffrey was thinking. Sometimes she cared, sometimes she didn’t. Today, she was on the fence. At nearly fifty-five years old he was maybe the most ruggedly handsome man she knew, yet sadly still the master mentor of the company’s good old boys and also married to his fifth gorgeous and much younger wife.

Why did Tom send that picture to you? Maria asked.

That’s all you have to say? Jeffrey didn’t wait for an answer. He looked thoroughly disgusted as he turned and headed into his office.

Tiffany, Maria’s administrative assistant and one of her few faithful friends, had been sympathetically listening from her desk. Now she got up and nearly dragged the shell-shocked Maria into her office.

Tiffany, this is awful. I had no idea Tom took that picture. Maria stood in the middle of her office, staring, seeing nothing.

You’ve got to get ready for your meeting. But first, tell me nothing else happened last night. Tell me there aren’t more pictures.

There can’t be any more—at least not any worse—pictures. Maria’s auto-pilot kicked in. She hung her red scarf and black coat neatly on the hook, stepped out of her comfy black Ugg boots, placed her black leather bag in her bottom desk drawer, and slipped into her basic black, professional low-heeled pumps.

So… nothing else followed? I mean, no…

Sex? Hardly. When I bent over to pull up my dress, it hit me. I was nauseous, really nauseous. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. Then I snuck out and called a cab. I took my sorry self home.

Good. Very good.

Oh, I don’t know. I’ve got to face them at the meeting, in just a few minutes.

Them?

Most of my management team was there.

Tiffany frowned. How many?

Twenty-three people were there, seven from my team.

Tiffany gave a thoughtful nod. She knew that Maria obsessively counted everything, especially people.

Now I wish I hadn’t gone. For the first time Maria had agreed to join a work group at a local bar. The occasion was their annual Halloween costume party.

Why did you go?

Maria shrugged. I was invited. She had never tried to be accepted at Central Illinois Insurance Company—more commonly known as Central. She had always refused to make decisions based on the mainly male management team’s likes and dislikes and was willing to be ruthless if necessary. Those were unusual qualities for the few women in top management positions in Blessington—a somewhat conservative large town in Central Illinois.

But you never go out.

You would’ve been proud of me. I wore a Kim Kardashian costume.

Tiffany was shaking her head in disbelief. So, you went out with your managers for the first time looking like a rich hooker?

I thought it might be fun.

You don’t like to have fun. You really should have talked to me first. As well as being an exceptionally qualified millennial with well-connected friends, Tiffany also had a fashion model’s looks and flair.

I picked up a cheap tiara and added ‘Kim K’ in large red letters. I wore my long, strapless dress.

I can’t believe you actually own a strapless dress.

I have one. Not that I’ll ever wear it again.

It was black, I presume?

Of course, it was. Maria obsessively wore black, albeit often accessorized with various shades of red or sometimes white, and adamantly argued that there was nothing wrong with preferring a particular color.

I’ll bet you blew ‘em away.

They were happy to see me. Like Kim Kardashian, Maria was attractive and had more than ample curves, long dark shiny hair, and a creamy light mocha complexion. Unlike Kim, Maria was a few months from her forty-fifth birthday and typically maintained a purely professional appearance.

They were happy to see your cleavage. No offense.

None taken and you’re right, obviously.

Did Tom invite you? Tom Smith was one of Central’s most eligible bachelors and it seemed he would stay that way. He was fifty years old with thinning blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and a tall, lean well-honed body.

Yes, Maria answered with a sigh.

I think he has a thing for you.

He doesn’t.

I didn’t think you liked him.

I don’t. For twenty-five years, Maria had held a grudge. She’d grown extremely close to her step-mother who was just ten years her senior. Then that stepmother suddenly left her and her father and immediately became involved with Tom. It was a difficult time, and Maria had never fully recovered. She knew Tiffany was aware of these details.

So… how did he get you to pose for this picture?

I’d been sipping a martini. He said he wanted to talk. I didn’t think it could hurt, Maria frowned.

First and foremost, Tom was one of Central’s good old boys. He’d expected to be named CFO and was shocked when Central hired Maria away from the state university and made her CFO. It came as no surprise to him, though, that she immediately demoted him and moved him from her Controllers division to the Human Resources department where he would not report to her.

Tiffany said, You let him humiliate you.

That wasn’t part of my plan. Everyone knew Maria had recently divorced. Most expected that a few single men in her age range—including Tom—would start showing some interest.

But…?

He kept ordering us martinis.

Tom loves his alcohol, but that doesn’t explain why you were topless.

He said everyone thinks I have implants because my breasts are too perfect.

Ah… so you had to show him.

Maria sighed, It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Speaking of time, you’re going to be late for your meeting.

Right. Maria took a deep breath, smoothed her hair, and straightened the scarlet red satin jacket she wore over her black silk blouse and black wool slacks. She squared her shoulders, grabbed her meeting binder and headed out the door.

Good luck, Tiffany called after her.

She’s going to need it, Jeffrey mumbled from his office as he ran a hand through his grey but still thick, wavy hair. His frown reflected sincere concern, but his usually sensitive green eyes became coldly calculating as he added this new picture of Maria to the file he’d been keeping.

***

At eight o’clock on Monday and Thursday mornings Maria met with her management team as well as various VPs, Directors, and Project Managers to discuss specific key projects. On this day she expected to see exactly sixteen people in attendance. Numbers kept her sane. For her, the world only made sense when it was defined by dependable, objective numbers.

Instead of rushing into the meeting, Maria came to an abrupt stop just outside the door. She could hear Tom’s voice saying, Where’s the Chief this morning? She’s usually pretty punctual. After a slight pause he said, You don’t suppose she’s a no-show? She sure wasn’t a no-show last night.

At that moment—the moment she heard the conference room erupt in laughter—Maria knew that her chance for career advancement at Central had ceased to exist.

***

Jeffrey and Maria had been the final two in contention for the vacant CEO position. The Board of Directors decided to give the job to Jeffrey who immediately began restructuring divisions and realigning the VPs and Directors. Maria had been given a choice. She could take a demotion to a very unpopular yet challenging Information Technology (IT) Director position. Or she could leave the company with a severance package consisting of one year’s pay.

Maria asked for one day to consider her options. She started that day by bidding a final farewell to her previous goal of spending the next twenty years as Central’s CEO. Next, she started working on a new plan, knowing she had limited options. Things were different now, and not because she was older, not because her skills had become stagnant. Age, however, had everything to do with it. Based on what she’d seen, she strongly believed that she needed to reach her career peak in the next few years—definitely before she reached the age of fifty. After that, she expected to have to work extra hard just to maintain her pay grade. She sadly resigned herself to the fact that she’d probably reached the top of her career ladder, and it might be time to settle in for the duration.

As far as Maria was concerned, though, the IT Division was comprised of a bunch of over-paid prima donnas who routinely failed to deliver quality products but nonetheless padded their projects with abysmal analysis and unnecessary training. It occurred to her that Jeffrey might share her concerns; he’d just moved his buddy Weston Walker Jr. out of the IT Director position. Weston, however, had been moved up the ladder and had become Central’s first Chief Operating Officer.

Maria decided she would take the IT job, but only if Jeffrey agreed to let her restructure the entire division. He gave her two weeks to put together her plan, making it due on the last working day before Christmas. Maria had never felt so eager to start planning. She couldn’t wait to clean house in IT. There were three hundred and fifty-three IT employees. Maria read through every one of their personnel files and single-handedly determined exactly how IT would be structured. She prepared proposed department organization charts along with the resultant reduced budget and presented everything to Jeffrey.

Jeffrey had known how to deal with the no-nonsense, cost effective, and extremely efficient Chief Maria, but this Maria—this gleefully wicked IT Maria he’d created—scared him half to death. She wanted to terminate thirty-five IT employees, demote another twenty-five, and also eliminate three management positions. Jeffrey reminded her that Central had always been and should always remain a friendly, loyal local employer.

Maria reminded him that as CFO she had always taken issue with the inflated IT budget and was now in a position to correct it. Jeffrey tried to discourage her. She argued that the Board of Directors would likely approve her changes.

Jeffrey agreed.

He also terminated her, effective immediately.

Chapter 2

Monday, February 13, 2012

51 Days Later

Chief, you won’t believe what’s happening here.

Tiffany? Where are you? Maria had been thoroughly enjoying her extended vacation. It was nine o’clock and she was still in her black silk pajamas, curled up on her black leather couch, wrapped in her burgundy afghan, watching the morning news, sipping a cup of freshly brewed espresso.

I’m in my car, in the parking lot.

Central’s parking lot?

Yes. Tiffany had been promoted. She was now Jeffrey’s executive administrative assistant, and she thought it was sweet that her husband was worried. All five of Jeffrey’s wives had also been attractive younger women who’d worked for him, and everyone knew he was due for wife number six this year.

What’s going on?

The police are here. We’re being evacuated.

Police? Maria found herself standing at attention. Why?

There were lots of people fighting in the halls.

Fighting? You mean yelling?

No, I mean fighting. I saw them. Everyone saw them. They were hitting and kicking.

Why?

This morning everyone got email.

What kind of email?

Everyone got an email with their whole division’s salary history.

Listed individually by person?

Oh, yeah. Ten years of everything you ever wanted to know.

Perfect. Maria burst into laughter before she slapped her hand over her mouth, slowly regaining her composure.

Nobody was laughing, Chief.

I’m sure they weren’t. Maria’s mind eventually shifted from her own precarious situation to a cautious concern for Central, her former staff, and Jeffrey.

Everyone was forwarding their emails. The whole company knows everyone’s salaries now.

What a mess. Maria was now picturing Jeffrey pacing in his office, staring out the window, a look of gut-wrenching agony on his face.

It was bad. People were mad. Really mad.

The police came to break them up?

Actually, the police came because Jeffrey called them.

Why?

He was afraid for his life, apparently. His management team was in his office, and they got pretty scary.

They’re his best friends, but a pretty rough bunch, as I recall. How many were in his office? Maria wasn’t there to count. She needed to know the exact number.

I knew you were going to ask. There were eight men in his office.

Thank you.

Even Tom was yelling at Jeffrey.

That’s odd.

By the way, have you talked to Tom?

No. Why would I?

He asked about you. He said he was going to send you flowers... you know... to apologize.

For what?

He feels responsible... you know... for your leaving Central.

He was here. He left ten white roses and a note at my door.

Tiffany giggled. He probably couldn’t get black roses.

Doesn’t white mean surrender? I’m sure neither one of us is surrendering.

So, you haven’t talked to him?

Nope.

You could call him, you know.

I don’t want that kind of relationship with him.

Chief, people call each other, talk to each other. It’s okay, even normal. It doesn’t mean you’re in a relationship.

I don’t want to talk to him.

Okay… but… you showed him yours, Tiffany giggled. He might want to show you his.

That’s not funny, Tiffany. Maria sat down and had a sip of her espresso while she processed that thought. As an adult, she had never loved anyone, never really depended on anyone except herself. Her mother died after a long ugly battle with cancer, leaving Maria devastated when she was just fifteen. Her father didn’t know how to cope, became distant, and quickly jumped into a second marriage. Five years later her new step-mother left them too. At age twenty, Maria felt completely alone, unloved, and vowed she’d never again trust anyone enough to let them close to her.

But you should date. You’re single. You’re in your prime... you know. You’re supposed to be hooking up... at least.

Tiffany, I know what that means.

Good.

I know you think I’m socially awkward, and maybe I am, but I’m also painfully aware of relationship practices and pitfalls.

But actually, I’m not so sure about Tom. He drinks too much, and he’s maybe not your type anyway.

My type? And that would be?

That would be a good question, Tiffany hedged.

Maria didn’t need anyone to tell her that she was different. She didn’t have a type. She was intelligent, but never at the top of her class. She preferred to train hard, but never competed so never won—or lost—contests. She loved to dig into her work and strive for excellence, but that hadn’t gotten her the CEO position. She was honest and generous but avoided close friendships.

Is Jeffrey blaming Laura Nelson? Maria asked. She had never stopped blaming Laura for years of distress and distrust. Laura had been Maria’s stepmother and closest friend for five years, before she’d abruptly left.

You think she did this, because you don’t like her or because she screamed age discrimination?

After taking a deep breath, Maria forced herself to switch into Chief mode. You know Central paid her a settlement.

I know she’s laying low until she can retire, this week, actually.

Great. She’s finally leaving. I hope she rides off into the sunset, never to be heard from again.

I know.

Jeffrey might think this was Laura’s way of sticking it to Central one last time. Maria thought she’d like to see someone stick it to Laura one last time.

Um... Some more discrimination charges arrived last month.

Who?

Laura’s buddies Nancy and Linda and eight of their closest friends.

I assume they all had plenty of documentation.

Oh, yes. Tons of documentation.

They must have included their peers’ salary information?

Yes…

Someone provided that confidential salary history?

Apparently someone did.

That someone might have sent the emails this morning?

You think it was Laura?

What does Jeffrey think?

Chief, you’re not going to like this.

He’s blaming me?

Worse.

Not my son, Nate? Maria was sure she must love her one and only child, but she had never known how to show it. Instead of playing with him when he was little, she focused on her work so she could buy him the best toys and clothes and eventually a nice car. Instead of attending his activities, in her spare time she tried to improve his world by helping run the PTA, serving on their church’s board of directors, and campaigning for local political candidates.

Yep, I’m afraid Nate’s name was mentioned this morning.

I knew he should’ve turned down that internship. I knew working at Central was a bad idea, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I’d guessed most people wouldn’t connect us. His last name is different than mine.

Right. Nate Lawson. Most didn’t get the connection until today.

He’s only been there since the first of the year.

He’s a Security Intern. He’s sharp. They think he’d know how to access the payroll file.

He has no reason to do that.

Oh, that reminds me. There’s one more thing.

Yes?

All of the salaries and start dates in the payroll system were reset. Everyone’s start date was set to today, and everyone’s salary was set to minimum wage.

Maria chuckled softly as she said, I wish I’d been there to see the looks on upper management’s faces.

Tiffany giggled. That part’s pretty funny, but we have to prove Nate didn’t do it.

Yes, we do. Right now, they need to blame someone, and they know I couldn’t have done it alone.

Right. They think you had Nate do it.

Maria sighed. Maybe my brother-in-law, Max Lawson, can help straighten this out.

Ex-brother-in-law.

He’s still Nate’s uncle. I’ll call him. I’ll call Nate too.

Chapter 3

Mom, Nate just called. Where’s Max? Susan Bradbury had wandered into the garden shop where her mother, Michelle Bradbury, was working.

Michelle and her brother owned and ran their family’s business, the Home Town Garden Shop, a popular Blessington landmark. This morning Michelle was helping the floral workers prepare the Valentine’s Day orders. As usual, she had her longish mostly brown hair tied back, and she wore her favorite pair of Merrell sneakers along with a comfy pair of Lee jeans and a Duluth Trading Company flannel tunic top. At fifty-two she was still an attractive woman and still worked hard to keep her weight around one-thirty-five which looked perfect on her five-foot-six frame.

She was surprised to see her daughter in the shop. I thought you had classes this morning.

I do. Susan repeated, Where’s Max?

For over thirty years Max and Michelle had been involved in a very unique and often romantic relationship. They met while working at the Blessington Hospital, she a pretty twenty-one-year-old computer programmer trainee, he a well-respected twenty-six-year-old technical guru. His six foot slightly overweight muscular build and his piercing blue eyes made him very attractive, but it was his intelligence and sense of humor that really took her breath away. Michelle had eventually left her job at the hospital to help run her family’s garden shop. Max also left the hospital to start his own computer business. They allowed each other plenty of freedom and maintained separate residences, but they also enjoyed a closer relationship than most married couples. In recent years, their activities had included some creative crime solving.

Susan, why did Nate call you if he was looking for Max?

Susan and Nate had always been friends but had recently become a bit friendlier. Max had assigned them the task of assisting the twins—Nate’s unpredictable grandmother and her unconventional twin sister—and their senior friends as they began using computers to navigate social media as well as their favorite and not necessarily G rated internet sites. Susan, Nate, and the twins had also become regulars at a colorful local truck stop diner, and they were not telling Max.

So… you do or don’t know where Max is? Slightly taller Susan, arms crossed, was now staring down at her mother.

Michelle sighed. Max was supposed to be on his way over here to install a new printer, but he just let me know he’s going to have to postpone. He got called about a problem at Central, and then he has to stop by his ex-sister-in-law’s house.

Nate’s mom?

Who else? Since she and Larry divorced, she’s been hanging all over Max.

Mom, Maria isn’t hanging all over anyone. Max just helped move her things to her new house.

Is Nate going to live with her?

Nope. He says her house is old and creepy. Maybe haunted. He says Maria wants to buy a gun.

Max would find all of that intriguing, I’m afraid.

Those are just Nate’s excuses to avoid her.

I wish Max would find excuses to avoid her.

Don’t worry, Mom. She isn’t Max’s type. Larry called her ‘Chief’ because she’s a workaholic and always has to be in charge.

I believe she was called ‘Chief’ because she was Central’s chief financial officer.

Nate says she’s obsessed, maybe OCD or something like that. He says she counts things all the time. It drives him nuts.

Her life revolves around numbers. She’s an accountant.

She’s a CPA.

Right. Certified Public Accountant. They’re also called ‘bean counters.’ Max likes numbers too.

Michelle had recently become much more protective of Max and their relationship. While trying to track down a murderer back in September, she had become distracted by a very attractive suspect, and Max nearly died. She had been overcome with guilt and began smothering Max, who she knew wasn’t comfortable with that much attention.

For the past few months, though, Michelle hadn’t been feeling well. For some reason she’d been having sharp pains in her stomach and so much nausea that she’d stopped leaving home, except to work and to run essential errands. She had seen a couple doctors and so far, they’d found nothing. Michelle was frustrated, also afraid she could be driving Max away, possibly right into Maria’s lonely, waiting arms.

Susan was skeptically eyeing her mother.

Susan, what’s going on? Why are Nate and Maria looking for Max? Did something happen to Larry?

Haven’t you seen the news?

Not this morning.

Central’s being evacuated.

Why?

Susan pulled out her iPhone, found the local news site, and showed it to her mom.

Michelle said, They’re calling it the ‘Central Salary Fiasco.’

Keep reading.

Michelle started to laugh as she read about the salary emails and the reset payroll file. Ah… experts are working to restore the payroll system.

Nate said it looked like the payroll system had been hacked.

Michelle was still laughing. What a mess.

Can Max fix the payroll system?

No, he doesn’t have that kind of access. But he set up their Disaster Recovery servers and network. They call it ‘DR.’ Central has offices in Blessington and Memphis, and both have identical sets of servers. Their DR system makes sure that all of their critical files are backed up and kept on both sets of servers.

The payroll files are critical?

Yes. Absolutely. Even during a disaster, an insurance company must be able to do the basics—adjust and pay their customers’ claims, sell and service insurance policies, and pay their employees.

Can Max restore the payroll system?

He’ll be able to determine which files are available for restore and check to see that the DR servers and network connections are functioning properly.

Susan was busily texting Nate.

Michelle sighed. I’m going to call Max. There must be something else going on. Maria wants to talk to him, and she doesn’t even work there anymore.

Susan’s attention was focused on her phone.

Michelle tapped her on the shoulder. Let me know what Nate says.

***

Nate Lawson had been on his way home when his manager called and asked him to come back to Central for a meeting. After wandering past his department’s meeting room on the second floor, he found his manager on the first floor in a conference room near the front entrance. He was surprised to see that his director, VP, and CEO were there and apparently waiting for him too. Nobody made eye contact. His manager and director sat on one side of the table wearing khakis and polo shirts. Jeffrey and his VP sat on the other side wearing dark suits and ties.

Jeffrey took charge. He nodded at the empty chair at the head of the table. Nate, have a seat, he said.

Nate sat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this out of place but was glad, at least, that the clothes he wore were fairly new and not much different than his manager’s.

Jeffrey said, Nate, we haven’t met. Your mother and I worked together.

Nate gave a slight nod.

Jeffrey said, Tell me what happened here this morning.

Nate cleared his throat and looked to George, his manager, trying to get a read on the reason for this interrogation. When George still avoided making eye contact, he