Kristin's Demotion

Chapter Four-1

Chapter Four

Clouseau!

As soon as Shepard said the word, Kristin felt the blood drain from her face. Sitting opposite, Charles was looking increasingly concerned. Slowly Kristin stood and, gesturing for Charles to stay put, headed for the exit.

“Kristin? Are you there?” Shepard’s incorporeal voice came from the handset. When she was outside, Kristin said, “I’m not sure I understood what you said.”

Shepard replied, “I’d prefer to do this face to face, but let me help you a little. I know all about it. ZifCom, VIRGO, everything that helped you to secure the Motoko sale.”

Kristin’s legs began to tremble.

Trying to keep her voice level, she said, “I’m not sure what you are insinuating, Mr. Shepard, but if this is some wild attempt to get your job back…”

“Cut the crap, Kristin!” Henry snapped. “I don’t want to talk about this on the phone. I’m at 126 Poplar Drive. Come alone. I’ll wait until nine o’clock. If you haven’t arrived by then, I’ll assume you don’t believe me and… well you can guess the rest.”

Shepard rang off, leaving Kristin trying to process the conversation that had just transpired. Was he bluffing? If so, how could he have possibly known all of that? Nobody knew about Clouseau. Kristin had been meticulous about that. Her security firewall was unbreakable. Or so she had thought.

“Kristin…”

Charles was standing on the cold pavement, holding her coat and bag.

“It’s freezing out here,” he said. “What on earth is going on?”

“I…something’s come up, Charles.”

“Who did you just speak to?”

“Nobody. It’s nothing. But I have to go.”

“Well it must be something. We’re supposed to be having dinner for God’s sake!”

Without replying, Kristin took her things and started across the road.

“Kristin,” Charles said, following. “Talk to me!”

Fumbling in her bag for her car keys, Kristin replied, “It’s a family matter, Charles.”

“What? Is somebody sick? Has there been an accident?”

“Look, I’ll call you, okay?”

She climbed into her Outlander, started the engine and pulled away leaving the bewildered figure of Charles standing in the middle of the street.

Poplar Drive. She knew where it was, about twenty minutes away, and she needed that time to think. She turned onto the expressway wondering what Shepard was up to. Was he going to hand her over to the authorities? Did he even have the evidence to do so? What did he want? Money? His job back? It was no use speculating, she told herself. She would find out soon enough.

As she approached the suburbs, it suddenly hit her that she was actually driving to Henry Shepard’s house. The last time she had seen him, he was clearly on the verge of some kind of a breakdown. What if he planned to attack her? Despite her concerns for her safety, Kristin knew that she had to meet him.

She turned into Poplar Drive and slowed down, checking the numbers on the houses. She found number one-twenty-six, killed the engine, and then opened her handbag. Inside, she located her apartment keys which were attached to a pepper spray key chain. She transferred this to her coat pocket and got out of the vehicle.

Shepard’s house was modest, a white building with stone siding and a gabled roof. There was a large flat lawn with a willow tree off to one side, and a wooden swing chair. A light glowed in the living room.

Kristin checked her watch. It was a quarter before nine. She was suddenly seized by an intuition that she was making a terrible mistake and was just about to turn around when the front door opened.

Henry Shepard stood before her, dressed in a checked shirt, jeans and socks. She had never seen him out of his business suit before and it seemed somehow uncomfortably familiar.

“So you decided to come,” he said. “Wise decision.”

He stood aside and she edged past him, catching the beer on his breath. She still couldn’t believe she was actually here doing this, when she should have been back at Danielle’s enjoying lobster and champagne with Charles.

Shepard showed her into the living room where he had his laptop open on the coffee table. The room was sparsely furnished, the wallpaper yellowing, the carpet in need of a shampoo. There were empty beer cans under the coffee table. On the way over, Kristin had briefly wondered if there might be a Mrs. Shepard, but that question appeared to be answered now.

“Have a seat.”

“I’ll stand, thank you,” Kristin said.

“You’ll need to sit down to see what I have to show you,” said Shepard. He plopped down on the sofa and patted the seat beside him.

“Come on, it’ll be like old times.”

The last thing Kristin wanted was to sit beside this revolting man, but she had come here to find out exactly what he knew. Reluctantly, she came around the coffee table and perched herself on the edge of the sofa, a respectable distance away from him.

He clicked the mouse and a file opened on the screen.

“I don’t have to explain any of this to you, of course,” he said. “You’ve seen it all before. In fact, you wrote most of it. Actually this is only a part of what I’ve got. Just enough to convince you.”

He stood up.

“I’m going to get a beer. Want one? No? Well, feel free to have a good look. Take your time. Oh, and don’t waste your time deleting anything. These are only copies, of course. The originals are very safe.”

When he was gone, Kristin scrolled down the file with an increasingly sinking heart. He hadn’t been bluffing. She had deliberately kept everything on record as a safeguard against the possibility of Clouseau ever turning against her. That had been her insurance policy. If she went down, then so would he. Now, her idea had seriously backfired. Somehow Shepard had gained access to her secure files.

Shepard returned from the kitchen with a can of Budweiser and leaned on the doorframe watching her.

“Do you know what the penalty is for intellectual property theft?” he asked. “I looked it up. As much as ten years in jail. And the fines, forfeitures and restitutions don’t even bear thinking about. If the FBI knew about this, you’d be financially ruined for the rest of your life. After you were eventually released, that is. And I have no idea what you would do for a living. I’d be surprised if you were ever welcome back in Silicon Valley.”

Kristin looked up at him, his words barely registering as her worst nightmare unfolded around her.

“What are you going to do?” she asked hoarsely.

Shepard came back over and sat down next to her, a little closer this time. He took a gulp of beer and placed the can on the table.

“I’ve been thinking about that long and hard,” he said. “I don’t want to call the cops, not if I don’t have to. Despite the way you treated me, I wouldn’t really want to see your life destroyed and your family name publicly shamed.”

“So what is it that you want?” Kristin asked in a barely audible voice.

Shepard was looking at her in a very peculiar way now which made her pull her coat tighter around her.

“In a word,” he said. “You.”

Kristin’s jaw dropped. She held his gaze for a few seconds before quickly standing up and crossing to the far side of the room. She pulled out the pepper-spray and held it at arm’s length.

“What are you talking about?” she cried.

“Relax. I’m not going to attack you.”

“What did you mean, you want ‘me’?”

“Just what it sounded like. But it’s your decision.”

“What decision? Are you asking me to marry you?” she asked incredulously.

Shepard chuckled.

“No, not marry.”

“Then what?”

He put his feet up on the coffee table and said, “Okay, here is my proposal. If you do as I ask, then the files remain locked away, very safely, and you stay out of jail. That’s my part of the bargain.”

“And what do I have to do in return?” asked Kristin warily.

“Anything I say.”

Kristin’s arm dropped to her side as she tried to comprehend what he was saying.

“What do you mean, ‘anything’?”

“If I tell you to do something, you do it. Without question, without complaint, no matter how unpleasant or distasteful it might be.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe I am. But does it matter? This is what it is. I have the power now. For the past year, you have made everybody’s lives at OFS utterly miserable. You’ve reveled in lording it over us. You’ve been an arrogant, unfeeling b***h. I’m going to teach you how it feels to be helpless, afraid and humiliated.”

Kristin lowered her gaze to the laptop and then back to Shepard. He was watching her with an amused smile on his face.

“It’s funny the difference forty-eight hours can make, isn’t it?” he said.

Kristin continued to stand backed up against the wall, as far away from him as possible. Her head was spinning. There had to be a way out of this.

“I’ll give you money,” she said. “I can afford it. Just name your price.”

“Ah, I was waiting for that. Well, if you agree to my terms, then yes, I guess you will give me money if I request it. But that’s not what this is about. I want more than that. I want total control of you. In every way.”

“Are you suggesting…?”

Shepard didn’t reply.

“No way!” Kristin shouted. “Absolutely no f*****g way! If you think that I would ever…!”

Shepard put up his hand.

“I know that this has all come as a bit of a sudden shock,” he said. “You need time to digest it. You need to seriously think about the consequences if you don’t agree. Because I’m not joking, I will turn these records over to the authorities.”

Kristin suddenly felt a little faint and she closed her eyes.

“I’ll tell you what,” Shepard said. “I’ll be a nice guy and give you twenty-four hours to decide. Let’s say… nine o’clock tomorrow night.”

Kristin started shaking her head.

“No…no, I’ve already decided. I’d rather go to jail than play any part in your twisted games. You’re sick! You need help.”

“Well as I said, it’s your choice,” Shepard sighed. “It’s too bad though. A pretty young girl like you in a federal prison. Who knows what terrible things could happen to you in there? And what if they give you the maximum sentence? How old will you be when you’re released? Thirty-five? I don’t suppose you’ll be quite such a good looking babe after ten years in the slammer. Will your boyfriend wait that long for you? And what about the public disgrace? How will your family take it? There’s so much for you to consider.”

Kristin was breathing heavily and her legs felt weak. Shepard stood up and Kristin raised the pepper spray again. But he merely walked past her, out into the hallway and opened the front door.

“I won’t do anything until after the deadline has passed,” he said. “I give you my word. Go home, calm down, and think about it. But if I haven’t heard from you by nine o’clock tomorrow evening, then well…”

He shrugged.

Kristin shuffled past him, still aiming the pepper spray. Her legs felt like heavy sticks. She crossed the lawn, climbed into her car and with trembling fingers, started the engine. As she drove back along Poplar Drive, she tried to arrange her thoughts. She was a smart girl. She had outwitted everybody at OFS and she was not prepared to give up what she had achieved there.

She considered her alternatives. The sensible thing would be to get legal advice and Charles was probably her best option. But the fact was she was guilty, plain and simple. The evidence was all there and Shepard was right, the U.S. Attorney’s Office was prosecuting cases like this to the full extent of the law. She tried to imagine facing up to her crime and had a sudden vision of her parents, old and broken, visiting her in prison. She quickly shook the thought from her mind.

She could skip the country, but where would that leave her? Kristin Hartman, an internationally-wanted fugitive? She even fleetingly entertained the idea of paying somebody to threaten Shepard, perhaps have him killed. But he would certainly have a contingency for that and then she could end up facing charges of conspiracy to murder.

She reached her apartment building, drove into the underground car park, switched off the engine and rested her head on the steering wheel.

What it all came down to she realized, was Shepard’s ‘proposal’. She couldn’t begin to imagine what he had planned for her. Maybe he only wanted to teach her a lesson, make her eat humble pie for a while, and then let her go. But it didn’t seem likely. The man clearly hated her as much as she hated him.

Kristin was suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue and, for the first time in her young life, she felt completely trapped.