"Huh," Gracie said when she'd finished, "I didn't realize magazines were such a cut-throat industry."
“I know right? It seems to me that the whole thing could be avoided if they just started a website and published their articles immediately, instead of hanging on to them for the stupid print deadline.”
“Why don’t they have a website?” Gracie asked, coaxing her for more insights
Betty shrugged. “Honestly, I can’t work it out and I’m not paid enough to care. What I do know is that circulation was down and now it's waaaay down since these leaks started. So, I don't want to tell you your job or speak out of turn, but don't get too comfortable here."
“That’s...tough to hear on my first day on the job.”
Betty shrugged again. “Whatever, I’ve been here a year and it’s not easy for me to hear either. This is what happens when old people think they understand what teenagers want.”
“Huh?”
"The magazine is owned by this old biddy. She probably doesn't even use the internet, let alone understand online marketing. Anyway, I came over to let you know that there's a lunchroom upstairs if you want to go for lunch now."
“Thanks, I’ve just got to finish up here though,” Gracie said, waving at her laptop.
“You found something to do even though Drew isn’t here yet?” Betty asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
“Well,” Gracie said, copying her smile. What she really wanted was to wait until the office emptied out for lunch, “I’ve got some freelance stuff that I do, thought I’d get some of that done.”
Betty laughed, believing her, “Yeah, everyone’s got a side-hustle these days. There’s a reason I always look busy when all I ever actually do is answer the phone and occasionally photocopy something.”
Gracie laughed, feeling her chest lighten. Betty left and, over the next few minutes the office emptied out as everyone went to lunch. This was the opportunity that Gracie had been looking for. She picked up her handbag and dug around for a few seconds until she found the small leather pouch that held the tiny microphones.
With one final check to make sure that she was alone in the office and hidden from any prying eyes, she opened the door of Chesney’s office and slipped inside, leaving it ajar. Now she just needed to find a place to leave one of her mics.
Chesney's office was L-shaped. The office door opened up into a main room where there was a desk and a few chairs, to the left there was a short dead-end corridor lined with filing cabinets. Gracie took a few steps into the main office and bent down. Underneath the seat of one of these chairs would be a perfect place for one of her sticky-backed mics. These modern microphones were so small that most people wouldn't know what it was even if they were holding it in their hands, Gracie thought with satisfaction.
Just as she got a mic out, she heard a voice from right behind her.
“Where the hell were you last night?”
That was Chesney’s voice. Of all the terrible timing! Gracie stood up with a burst of adrenaline. He was right outside the office door, already pushing it open. Gracie bolted into the side corridor, diving between two filing cabinets. She looked back, peeking her head out just in time to catch a glimpse of Chesney’s strong profile as he came into the office and went over to his desk.
He was on the phone and there was a large band-aid on the top of his forehead, right at the hair-line. He would, Gracie thought in a rush of adrenaline, be an attractive man if he wasn't a suspect.
“I’m trying to help you,” Chesney continued angrily, now out of Gracie’s view. “Is that so difficult to believe?”
There was a pause before Chesney spoke again. “Yeah, I think Huang is on to me.”
Gracie’s eyes widened, that sounded like pretty damning proof that her case was all wrapped up.
“I don’t know.”
Chesney made an angry noise. “No, you listen to me. I’ll...Damn it!”
Gracie guessed the other person had hung up on him. Well, that had been a very interesting conversation. The question was, how the hell was she going to get out of here?
Chapter Five
Gracie steppedout of the side office, watching Chesney’s face as he saw her and realized that she had heard him on the phone. Instead of the guilt she’d expected to see on his face, there was something else. It was suspicion.
“I’m really sorry,” Gracie began, trying to look penitent. Time to come up with an excuse for sneaking into his office!
“I came in here to ask if you wanted anything ordered for lunch. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Gracie knew it was a pretty flimsy excuse, but at least it was strong enough that he couldn’t outright call her a liar.