Chapter 8 - The Report Nobody Wrote
Miles Knox had spent twelve years in private security.
He'd dealt with shoplifters, drunken arguments, a man who tried to steal a twelve-foot Christmas tree, and one memorable customer who insisted a bottle of wine was haunted.
He knew trouble.
What bothered him about Caleb Mercer was how little trouble the man had caused.
At eight the following morning, Miles entered Bellamy Cellars carrying two coffees.
One was for himself.
The other was for Tessa, who looked as if she'd spent the night arguing with her conscience.
"Black, two sugars," he said, placing it beside her.
She blinked.
"How'd you know?"
"You've bought the same thing every morning for eleven months."
"That's a little creepy."
"Security work. Occupational hazard."
She smiled for the first time since the incident.
Then Miles asked, "Did you talk to him?"
Tessa's smile disappeared.
"Who?"
"Don't insult both of us."
She looked down.
"Yeah."
"Good."
"You're not mad?"
"Should I be?"
"I sent him something from the store."
Miles considered that.
"Depends what you sent."
"A picture of a shipping label."
"Was it confidential customer information?"
"No."
"Did you alter it?"
"No."
"Then stop looking like you robbed a bank."
Tessa hesitated.
"Miles, I heard Mr. Rusk talking to Sloane last night."
His expression changed.
Before he could respond, Brielle entered the employee corridor.
She stopped when she saw them.
"Morning."
"Morning," Miles replied.
Brielle looked at Tessa's coffee.
"Are we having a meeting?"
"No," Tessa answered too quickly.
Brielle's eyes narrowed.
"Okay."
She continued toward the stockroom.
Miles waited until she was out of earshot.
"Whatever you're doing, keep copies. And don't take anything you're not authorized to access."
Tessa nodded.
"You sound like my dad."
"Does your dad also have fantastic hair?"
"He's bald."
"Then he's got my sympathy."
The joke faded when Miles returned to the security office.
He needed to finish his incident report.
Company procedure required a written report whenever security was summoned to handle an allegation of fraud.
He logged into the reporting system.
An incident already existed.
Case 26-1048.
Subject: Suspected fraudulent payment card.
He frowned.
The report stated that Caleb Mercer had entered the store, become aggressive when questioned about payment, and attempted to intimidate the manager.
It said the guard had observed threatening behavior.
Miles read the paragraph twice.
Then he checked the author field.
M. Knox.
His name.
His employee identification number.
His electronic signature.
Except he hadn't written it.
He opened the timestamp details.
The report had been created at 3:41 p.m. Wednesday.
Caleb had entered the store after four.
Miles leaned back slowly.
A report accusing a customer of threatening behavior had been prepared before the customer arrived.
He printed it.
Then printed the activity log.
The system showed an administrator had created the document using an elevated account assigned to finance operations.
Miles took both pages directly to Diana's office.
She was speaking to an attorney by telephone.
He stood in the doorway.
"Ma'am, I need five minutes."
"Can it wait?"
"No."
Something in his voice made her end the call.
Miles placed the pages in front of her.
Diana read them.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Did you write this?"
"No."
"Did you approve it?"
"No."
"Did you sign it electronically?"
"Absolutely not."
She examined the timestamp.
"That's impossible."
"No, ma'am. It's a lie. There's a difference."
Diana exhaled.
"Who has administrator access?"
"Evan's office. The IT contractor. And you."
"I didn't write this."
"Didn't think you had."
She looked up.
"Why would someone create a security report before anything happened?"
Miles crossed his arms.
"That's what I'd like to know."
Diana called her outside attorney, Maeve Chen, and arranged to preserve the electronic records through an independent forensic specialist.
Miles kept his original handwritten notes and gave copies to counsel.
The records were not proof that Evan had personally entered the false information.
But they were proof that somebody had prepared a fraudulent account in advance.
Later that afternoon, Miles found Caleb standing outside the rear service entrance.
Caleb looked tired.
Miles approached.
"Mr. Mercer?"
"Caleb's fine."
"Miles. The security guy who was summoned to arrest your wallet."
Caleb laughed despite himself.
"Good to meet you properly."
Miles offered his hand.
Caleb shook it.
"I owe you an apology," Miles said.
"You didn't do anything."
"I walked in ready to assume you had."
"Well, somebody was yelling for security."
"Still should've asked you first."
Caleb studied him.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Miles glanced toward the building.
"Because someone wrote a report under my name saying you threatened people."
Caleb's face hardened.
Miles continued.
"And they wrote it before you arrived."
The two men stood silently beside the loading dock.
Then Caleb asked, "Do you know why the cameras went down?"
"There's a service ticket in the system. Says scheduled maintenance."
"Who scheduled it?"
"Finance administrator."
"Can you prove that?"
"Maeve's preserving the records now."
Caleb nodded.
"Thank you."
Miles hesitated.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"The report had a section for physical evidence. It listed a destroyed payment card."
Caleb felt the cold spread through his chest.
"Before she broke it?"
"Yeah."
"How could they know?"
Miles shook his head.
"I don't think they knew she'd break it. The original entry just says 'card retained as suspected counterfeit.' Someone changed that field later."
Caleb absorbed the distinction.
The confrontation had been anticipated.
The precise humiliation hadn't.
Sloane's cruelty was her own.
But someone had prepared to use it.
Miles lowered his voice.
"The question isn't whether your ex lost her temper."
Caleb looked toward the store.
"It's who expected me to be accused of something."
May you like
Miles nodded.
"And why they needed an official record saying so."
