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“I don’t know how the system works. Richard might know.”
Jackson grunted as the elevator door closed again. “Have a feeling he’s new to the job.”
“Only one way to find out.” Kristi walked to the office door. “Richard.”
The guard strode back into the office. “You haven’t touched anything, right? My supervisor is coming from the security office on the first floor. If he thinks it’s necessary, he’ll call the police.”
“You need to call law enforcement,” Rafe said. He motioned for Richard to go around the side of the desk. “Take a look.”
Richard swallowed hard. “As soon as my supervisor authorizes it, I’ll call the cops.”
“There’s more blood in Stewart’s private elevator. Does your system log when the boss leaves the building from this elevator?”
“I can answer that question,” came a deep voice from the doorway. A salt-and-pepper haired man with a barrel chest wearing the standard Ward Security uniform walked into the office. He scowled at Richard and the rest of them. “I’m Hank Hardy, chief of security. You’re contaminating a potential crime scene. Get out.”
“Answer my question,” Rafe snapped.
“The answer is no. Mr. Stewart didn’t want to be tracked that closely. It’s usually not an issue since he uses the front door like everyone else most of the time.”
Rafe scowled. “A serious flaw in your system. The security system should log in every card use for each worker, including Stewart.”
“That’s not what he wanted.”
“It’s your job to advise him on the safest policy. Based on what I’m seeing here, someone attacked Stewart and took him out of the building through the executive elevator.”
A frown. “That’s impossible. No unauthorized person can access this floor, especially after hours.”
“Look for yourself. There’s blood on the floor here and inside Stewart’s private elevator. How do you explain that?”
The man’s jaw tightened. “I can’t.”
“Call the cops. Your boss’s life is on the line.”
“Who are you?”
“Rafe, Kristi’s boyfriend.”
“What makes you an expert?”
“I work for Fortress Security, and I’m a former FBI agent. You’re wasting time. Call the cops.”
“As soon as you leave the office. You better not have touched anything.”
“Do your job, Mr. Hardy,” Kristi said. “We’ll get out of your way.”
“The police will want to talk to you.”
“We came up with Richard and discovered this mess together. He can provide the same information to the police.” Rafe pulled a card from his pocket with the name of one of the detectives who talked to him and Kristi at the hospital. “Call the detective and report this. He and his partner are investigating a bombing at one of the company warehouses.”
A scowl. “What do you know about that?”
“Not much. Make the call. If the detectives want to talk to us, they have our numbers.” He threaded his fingers through Kristi’s.
“Ms. Stewart, you need to stay,” Hardy insisted.
“I need to find my father.” She, Rafe, and Jackson left the office with Richard trailing behind them.
“I don’t understand what’s going on around here,” the guard said as they rode the elevator to the lobby.
