Page 80 of Insidious Threats

“No, as I explained, the employees don’t have assigned desks. But Petra is … well, she’s forceful. So nobody else would dare sit at her preferred spot.”

Stasia liked Petra already. “Were she and Garwood particularly close?”

Antonia considered the question before answering. Then she nodded her head. “They were, yes. I always thought Gar had a bit of a crush on her but that he was too intimidated to let her know.”

Stasia decided she wanted to meet this fearsome computer nerd. “Where is she? I’d like to speak to her. Maybe she knows where he went.”

“I’m sorry. She didn’t come in today. She left my assistant a message that said something unavoidable came up and that she’d do some work from home this afternoon. We give our people a lot of latitude to work remotely.”

Stasia was growing tired. “Petra what?”

“Excuse me?”

“What is Petra’s surname?”

“Oh. I suppose there’s no reason not to share it. It’s Vukovic.” She spelled it out.

“Petra Vukovic,” Stasia repeated, sealing it in her working memory.

“Yes. But, she didn’t work on your project at all.”

“Understood.” She smiled brightly. “Thanks for your time this morning, Ms. Glass.”

“Of course.” She bit her lower lip. “Do you think your company will be satisfied that everything’s fine here?”

Stasia shrugged. “It is, isn’t it?”

Antonia’s eyes widened. “I think so.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about it.”

Stasia left the manager to ponder her response and walked out into the hall.

41

Petra pulled into a parking lot on the outskirts of town and killed the engine. “This market is the closest grocery store. The prices are exorbitant because you’re in a ski town at the height of the season. And the selection is limited because … you know, I don’t know why. It just is. But it’s important for you to understand there’s no food at my place.”

“Got it,” Connelly said.

“I mean it. There’s nothing to eat. There’s no coffee, no drinks. I have water and spices. Also half a loaf of bread and most of a jar of peanut butter. But I’m not sharing those.”

“I have questions,” Sasha told her as the trio crossed the parking lot to the store.

“Fire away.”

“Do you have a coffee maker?”

“Yes, but no filters.”

This answer raised additional questions, but Sasha decided to stay focused. “Do you have any food allergies or dietary restrictions?”

“No.”

“What’s your favorite meal that you wish you knew how to cook?”

“I don’t know how to cook anything. Hence, the peanut butter sandwiches. Luckily there are a lot of amazing restaurants in this town.”

“The question stands.”