Bad Moon Rising

I see the bad moon rising.
I see trouble on the way.
I see earthquakes and lightning.
I see bad times today.

 

Unsettled, Trixie thought as she ran the software to detect network intrusions on the household division of the Control & Venture intranet. She was troubled and she couldn’t put her finger on the “why.” Certainly, it was nothing she had uncovered in this division of the operations at Control & Venture. There were a few basic problems with the system, but nothing that would give her the uncomfortable feeling she had missed something. Trixie didn’t want to admit it, but Mitsy was the problem.

“I just don’t get it,” Trixie said aloud as she tapped a finger on the desk next to her wireless mouse. She had been surprised to find that instead of a spacious executive office, Mitsy had a cubbyhole in the bowels of Control & Venture. It was obvious that Mitsy executed her duties efficiently and easily. Trixie had seen her share of accounting department, enough to know that Mitsy’s was organized and effective. She couldn’t help but wonder why William Thornhill hadn’t given his daughter more responsibility.

Quit kidding yourself, Belden! She chided herself and sighed before typing another command into the software program she was running. You want Mitsy to move up, so you can get at the global intranet that connects all of Control & Venture’s divisions. Trixie reflected on the conversation she had with Mitsy the first afternoon she’d been on the assignment and wished she had pushed Mitsy harder.

“How’s it going? What are your initial thoughts?” Mitsy stood in her door, smiling at her friend.

Trixie looked up and smiled back. “I think I should have quoted you a higher fee.”

Mitsy giggled and waved her hand airily as she plopped down in the chair in front of Trixie’s desk. “Please. If you need more money, then I’ll get it. That’s about the only thing they do let me do around here, authorize expenditures.”

Trixie frowned. Mitsy’s comment addressed head-on the exact problem that was bothering her. “Uh, Mitsy, I was kind of wondering. What exactly is your job here?” Immediately, she blushed, thinking she should have been more tactful. “I mean, I really expected you to show me to your office up there.” She pointed a finger towards the ceiling, “…sitting in the executive suite next to your Dad with a view of the financial district of Manhattan. What are you doing down here on the fifth floor in a broom closet for an office?”

Mitsy shrugged and shifted in her chair. “There are… reasons.”

Trixie arched an eyebrow at her friend. “Good reasons?”

Mitsy nodded slowly. “Daddy thinks they’re good reasons.”

Trixie was unwilling to let it go at that, and leaned forward. “I’ve read your bio.” She pointed a finger towards Mitsy’s cubicle down the hall. “I’ve seen the diplomas on your wall. You graduated as a Baker Scholar from Harvard Business School. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, what you’re doing here.”

Mitsy had dropped her eyes and seemed to be studying a fingernail as if it were suddenly the most important thing in the world. The silence stretched between the two women, and the atmosphere shifted in the small office. As if sensing she was going to have to say something, Mitsy finally spoke.

“Daddy believes everyone has to earn their way. I started out in high school working in the mailroom. I’m working my way up just like anybody else.” Her eyes seemed to be pleading with Trixie not to ask any more questions.

Trixie sighed inwardly and realized exactly how uncomfortable the situation was for her friend. “I understand, but somehow, I doubt your Dad would hire any other Harvard graduate in at such a low level in the company. Have you ever considered working somewhere else?”

Mitsy’s cell phone rang. She looked at it and stood up, a smile brightening her face once more. “Excuse me, Beatrix. I need to take this. It’s Charlie, and he’s in court today.”

Trixie nodded as Mitsy left the room. Her thoughts churned, and she wondered what William Thornhill could possibly be thinking.

Is Mitsy’s father deliberately shielding her from what he’s doing? Trixie wondered, thumping a pencil on the desk while the software program ran. Suddenly, she wished she could talk to someone about her feelings. I wonder if Jim’s busy. She reached for the phone at the same time the tiny unit started vibrating to signal an incoming call. Frowning, she looked at the number on the screen.

“Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency,” she said in a well-modulated voice, belying her impatience with the speed at which the software program was running.

“Beatrix?” a familiar voice asked.

“Yes, speaking.”

The confident voice continued. “Reid Beckhart here. Listen, I’ve given your name to a good friend of mine. You should probably expect a call from her later this week, maybe tomorrow. I told her I’d give you a call.”

“Sure, Reid. I appreciate it,” Trixie responded. “The Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency needs the business.”

“The Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency will be turning business away before the year is out,” he predicted “Seriously, Beatrix. Margaret is in a spot of trouble. You’ll move her to the top of your list, won’t you?”

“I’ll do my best,” she promised. “I’m on a job right now, not to mention some follow-up work to do for you and a few other clients, but I should be able to get to her problems soon.”

“Thanks, Bea. Margaret’s an old friend and I owe her one.”

“The thanks are owed to you. By the way, you did get your invite to Jim’s fundraiser, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, remind me again why I agreed to attend the bloody thing,” Reid teased.

Trixie sniffed. “You never forget anything. You know why you agreed to come.”

Reid laughed. “I’m sure I’ll speak with you before then. Thanks again, Beatrix.”

Trixie disconnected the call and smiled. Things really were going well for the agency, but it was hard to focus on the assignment of finding who was consorting with terrorists when the call of private investigation work was so close. She sighed as she looked at her things-to-do list. She’d had two calls on Monday and four more yesterday, realizing that if the demand for her services continued, she would have to hire help for the completely legitimate Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency!

Unfortunately, Trixie wasn’t finding anything out of the ordinary going on at Control & Venture. The software program ended with a ding, returning her attention to the search and inquiry she had just run. She sighed as she reviewed the results.

“What am I missing?” Annoyed at herself over talking aloud about the case, she shook her head and jabbed her pencil forcefully into the pencil holder in front of her. Mitsy arrived at her door, preventing any further conversation with herself. “You ready to go?”

Trixie looked up, an anxious expression on her face.

“Lunch? We’re meeting Di at Vespucci’s, remember?” Mitsy reminded her.

“Oh!” Trixie made a concerted effort to clear her mind of the thoughts she had been processing. “I’m ready.”

 

 

“If you hadn’t decided to do what you do, what do you think you’d do?”

“What?” Jim cast a puzzled look at his girlfriend as they walked towards Bryant Park.

Trixie repeated the question.

“Trixie, that question doesn’t make a lick of sense!” Jim avowed. “If I hadn’t decided to do what?”

“If you hadn’t decided to open a school one day, be a teacher, or whatever,” Trixie waved her gloved hand in the air, “what would you do instead?”

“Hmmm… the only thing I ever considered besides the school was medicine,” Jim admitted.

“Medicine?” Trixie was surprised. “You mean to be a doctor, like Brian?”

“Yes and no.” Jim glanced toward his girlfriend. “I had considerable interest in medical research, especially cancer research. If I hadn’t decided to pursue the dream of having my own school, I probably would’ve followed Brian into medicine.”

“Is that because of your Dad?” Trixie asked. “I mean your birth Dad.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t have handled treating kids with cancer though. Cancer research would have been a good choice. Medicine would never have been a mistake.” Jim paused as he pondered what might have been. “What made you ask that?”

Trixie sighed. “Do you think you might have gone into business with your Dad? You know, worked at Wheeler International?”

Jim considered the idea and then shook his head as he answered. “No. The world of business isn’t my thing. Closing a business deal would never give me the same feeling of satisfaction as teaching, or medicine, or even public service.”

“Public service?” Trixie asked, arching an eyebrow at this response. “Really?”

Jim grinned as they approached the rental counter and requested the appropriately sized ice skates. He handed Trixie her skates and answered her question. “Are you saying you don’t think I could handle politics? As I recall, we were co-presidents of the Bob-Whites.”

Trixie laughed. “Your red-headed temper would have done you in. Politicians have to deal with too many fools for you to make it.”

Jim laughed too, and gestured toward a nearby bench. The two of them sat and began to remove their shoes and don the rented skates. “You’re probably right. Maybe business would have been my third choice. Dad would be an exceptional mentor. He thrives on the challenge of the deal. Although sometimes I think he’s still trying to prove something to Mother’s family.”

“Your dad doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone,” Trixie vowed. “I think he’s just wonderful.”

“On that we can agree,” Jim said, tugging on his laces. He moved to help Trixie finish lacing her skates.

“Jim.” Trixie hesitated. “If you worked for your Dad, would you have started out in the mail room?”

Jim laughed. “Trix, if I hadn’t been fortunate enough to find counselor positions at summer camps and other jobs related to my degree, I would’ve been working in the mail room. Parents can’t show favoritism in summer jobs just because they’re owners.” He paused and stood to give her a hand up. “At least they shouldn’t. Dad wouldn’t be that way. He’d make Honey - or me - take a job like any other kid.”

Trixie was quiet while they walked the few steps to the rink. As she and Jim warmed up with a few turns around the ice, she felt the tension melt from her body. Eventually, Jim turned and skated backwards to make conversation easier. Trixie looked up at him. “What about after college? If you’d gone into the business world, done the college scene, and received your M.B.A., would you have started as an accounting clerk?”

Jim shook his head. “A college graduate with an MBA doesn’t expect to start at the bottom. If they’ve worked and attended school, by that time, they’ve spent more than one summer in mailroom jobs and clerking in the accounting department, a turn in facilities management and real estate, maybe even a summer doing some work in legal or contracts. They’d expect a good position with the potential to move up.” He gave her a questioning look. “Come on, Trix. Where are you going with these questions? We both know if I had gone into business with Dad, I’d at least start out as a junior executive. What gives?”

Trixie sighed. “It’s Mitsy. She has this lowly position in the smallest division at Control & Venture. It’s clear she has the smarts, at least from what I can see. She won’t discuss it, only saying her Dad believes everyone has to earn his or her way.”

She shook her head in bewilderment. “Sheesh, Jim – she has a Harvard MBA and was a Baker Scholar. She’s just like you and Brian. She graduated high school at sixteen and finished college in record time. She spent every summer as an intern at Control & Venture. It sounds like you think they would recruit any other college graduate into a higher position, too. It’s like he put her into one of those summer intern slots permanently.”

Jim frowned. “Dad has a lot of respect for William Thornhill. I’ve heard him say that Thornhill runs a tight ship.”

“It does seem like a well-run organization,” Trixie admitted. She bit her lip and looked up at Jim. “You’re going to laugh at me, but it seems really mysterious.”

Jim shook his head. “If I’ve learned anything at all about you, Trix, it’s to take your hunches seriously. Did you ask Mitsy about it?”

“Yes. She refuses to discuss it. She asked me to leave it alone.”

Jim turned his head to one side and gave her a knowing look. “So where does that leave you? I thought you considered Mitsy your friend.”

“I do,” she sighed. “But Jim, I keep thinking of Di. She was upset and didn’t want us interfering when that fake uncle was making her life miserable. If we, the Bob-Whites, if we’d left Diana alone back then, it wouldn’t have helped her.”

“True, but Di was thirteen,” Jim reminded her. “Mitsy’s an adult.”

“Yeah,” Trixie admitted grudgingly. The two of them turned to skate side by side, their feet moving automatically across the ice in an almost perfect unison. Neither of them had any idea of the attention they were garnering as they skated together in wide, graceful circles, occasionally gliding to try fancy footwork and more complicated turns.

The flash of a camera had them breaking apart as Trixie looked at Jim in dismay. Her eyes quickly scanned the side of the rink. She shook her head. “It’s just kids.”

Jim nodded, but they continued to skate apart for a few turns while Jim worked on executing complicated footwork and Trixie performed a couple of simple jumps. “How about trying a double jump?” Jim asked when Trixie joined him, skating backwards while Jim’s hands rested easily on her waist.

She made a face. “Are you crazy? All I need is a picture of me landing on my butt in the paper.”

Jim gave her a serious look. “Are you going to live your life worrying about what pictures get printed in some silly gossip column?”

Trixie bit her lip and considered his question. Finally, she looked up at him and tossed her curls, giving an indignant sniff. “No, I’m not. But do you know how long it’s been since I tried anything more than a bunny hop?”

Jim smiled relief apparent on his face. “That’s it, Trixie! They can’t beat courage no matter how many pictures they take. A throw jump would be easy. You girls and Mart did a good job nailing those jumps at the lake.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Mart just liked the idea of throwing me as hard as he could!”

Jim laughed. The two of them continued skating, their eyes gravitating to the outside of the rink, where other experienced skaters were trying moves that were more complicated. Applying pressure to Jim’s arm, Trixie nodded towards one dark-haired girl who was executing a complicated spin in the center of the rink. “She’s good.”

Jim watched a moment and nodded. “I never could manage to get spins down. Dan and Brian make them look easy.”

“Di was pretty good at the spins too.” Trixie reminded him, the vision of Di’s ponytail whipping as she did spins coming into her mind. Fleetingly, she wondered if she should have suggested they invite Mart and Di to join them. She looked up at Jim.

“Mart and Di already had plans.” Jim grinned as he spoke.

Her mouth dropped. “How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

He laughed and tugged her curl. “Trix, there are times when your thoughts are as plain as the nose on your face. Are you ready for a break? I think if I had some hot chocolate in me, I might be tempted to try a spin after all.”

Trixie nodded. “Yeah, if you try a spin, I’ll try the double jump.”

Jim easily located a café table for two near the heaters. She sat and studied him as he ordered hot chocolate for two. Her thoughts returned to her current assignment. I sure hope he can’t always tell what I’m thinking.

 

 

Trixie was making notes for her preliminary report. With each company she investigated, the job became a little easier to do. The developed a checklist based on her experiences at each project. Evaluating Control & Venture had been routine, especially with her efforts focused on one division. She was still puzzled about Mitsy’s seemingly low position in the family business, and she managed not to say anything until she reviewed her preliminary findings with Mitsy.

Mitsy frowned as Trixie explained some of the system shortcomings. She looked up at Trixie with surprise on her face. “You found some problems.”

Trixie nodded. “Yes, a few. Your system is really only mediocre. You really should address the top three findings quickly. The first two could potentially cross all your divisions, and the third only impacts your division.”

“The first one seems pretty serious,” Mitsy commented, suddenly nervous.

“It is,” Trixie acknowledged. “It leaves your system vulnerable. Did you know that the majority of corporate security breaches come from inside the company?”

Mitsy leaned back, seemingly shocked by the revelation. She took a deep breath and motioned for Trixie to continue.

“Virus protection is a big deal,” Trixie warned. “You can’t have a system for virus checking that allows your employees to turn it off, or relies on them to update their systems. You have to push the updates to their computers and establish a network alarm if they turn off their virus protection.” Trixie paused. “Over half your computers have out-of-date virus pattern fixes loaded. Is every division running the same virus software as yours?”

Mitsy shook her head. “I don’t know. Each division has its own desktop support department and Chief Information Officer. In this division, we outsource that function.”

“Without a common operating picture for the entire company, you’re always going to be juggling these security problems.” Trixie hesitated. “I’m surprised a company this size hasn’t already figured that out.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.” Mitsy sighed and leaned back in her chair. “But Daddy likes keeping the divisions running as separate companies. Mergers and acquisitions are his forte and he thinks it makes it easier to divest a division that way. You realize I’m not the one who will make the decision on whether to escalate your final report up the chain of command?”

Trixie frowned and bit her lip, wondering again, why Mitsy held such a low position in the company. She hesitated and then asked, “Look, it’s really none of my business, but why are you doing this job?”

“I love accounting and finance,” Mitsy answered immediately. “I’ve always loved the numbers. It’s what I do best.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Why don’t you explain to me why you’re sitting down here in the bowels of Control & Venture, doing a job that I suspect you could have done right out of high school?”

Mitsy frowned. “I told you Daddy is particular about not showing favoritism.”

Trixie shook her head. “You’re too smart for that. You might be young, but we both know you could easily do his job.” Trixie nodded her head towards the chief financial officer’s door.

Mitsy refused to meet her gaze. “I don’t want any special treatment.”

Trixie leaned forward. “You run the accounting department more efficiently than any I’ve ever seen. I sat here and watched while you closed the month-end books in two days. We both know you’re overqualified for this. Why aren’t you treated just like any other Harvard MBA?”

“I’ll set us up a meeting to discuss your findings with my boss tomorrow,” Mitsy said, deliberately changing the subject. The set of her jaw told Trixie they were finished discussing Mitsy’s p osition with Control & Venture.

Trixie shook her head. “I’m not ready. This is just a preliminary report so you have advance notice on the problems I’ve found. It was important to you were aware it could be worse in your other divisions. I’ll have a complete written report for you in a few days. This is still preliminary.”

“Okay, let me know if you find anything else you consider critical.” Mitsy stood to indicate their meeting was over. “Beatrix, about the other -- please leave it alone. Daddy and I have an understanding.”

Trixie nodded and turned to leave, feeling more unsettled than ever.