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Chapter 2: Hidden Faces

Across town, Spike was reading a computer printout with a decided grin on his face. He wondered what Buffy would make of her mother’s ramblings about him. He hoped that he had managed to set the right tone with her, that she’d take him up on his offer of a date. He didn’t think that the girl would be any threat to him. After all, she was Joyce’s daughter. Still, he was nothing if not careful.

Papers still in his hand, he began to head off towards Warren’s office when he spotted Warren in the hallway.

“Any trouble getting this?” he asked, motioning to the papers in his left hand.

“Nah. No trouble at all. There was hardly any security on the machine at all. Plus the door was wide open. Walked in, downloaded a copy, and erased the original. In and out in less than a minute.”

Warren could tell by Spike’s reaction that he had said something wrong.

“You erased the whole file? I didn’t tell you to erase the bloody thing! Just a few parts here and there. Don’t you think if it’s missing altogether it might look a tad suspicious?”

Warren didn’t see the big deal. “Ooops. Well, no harm done.” He shrugged. “She’ll never even know it was there in the first place, never mind that I erased it.”

His employer was getting really angry now. Warren could tell by the way Spike had him pressed up against the paneling in the hallway. Suddenly it didn’t seem like an insignificant problem any more. Warren was starting to sweat.

“You bloody idjit! Why can’t you just do as I tell you and leave it at that? She’s bound to notice something’s missing if every other file has an addendum except mine. She’s not stupid you know.”

Warren was finally starting to become afraid, even though he knew the problem could be easily rectified. Spike rarely had cause to question his work. Warren knew he was one of the best in the business. That’s why Spike had hired him in the first place. Getting Spike pissed off at him was not good for his health, or his future employment prospects.

With Spike’s hand around his throat, Warren tried to explain. “Look. It’s not like it’ll come up on her screen when she turns it on. She’d have to look for the record to know that it’s missing. Plus I erased a few other files to make it look like the disk was corrupted. Why would she single out your information?”

Warren had rarely seen Spike in such a snit, and never at directed at him. “Fool! Because I met her at the gallery tonight. Had a nice chat about her Mum. I could tell she was puzzled that she couldn’t place me, and I’m sure that her mother’s records are the first place she’ll look.”

Trying to contain himself, Spike looked at his pathetic hireling trembling in the scant light cast by the hallway ceiling fixture. “Listen carefully. This is your mistake and you are going to fix it.”

Spike was speaking very slowly now, as if Warren was a dim witted child. Warren didn’t like to be treated that way, not by any one. If Spike had only let him explain!

Resentment that he hadn’t known he’d felt began rising. Somehow, someday, Warren was going to get even with Spike for this. Warren could still feel Spike’s stern grip crushing his larynx. Yes, he would have to think of a suitable revenge, but later. Right now Spike was still giving him instructions.

“Everything is going to be just the way I want it, understand? Do just what I wanted. Just delete the two paragraphs I highlighted and put it back.”

“What?” Warren had been so lost in his own plans that he hadn’t heard what Spike was saying. Now he looked like even more of an incompetent!

“I said, put the file back. Right now. If it’s there by morning, she’ll never have to know it was missing for a few hours, yeah? You can do that – can’t you?” Spike looked Warren up and down contemptuously. “Don’t give me the wrong answer.”

Pushing back his anger, Warren was weak with relief. Disappointing the boss man was a quick way to dismissal without a reference. “Sure. I can put it back. No problem. I left a backdoor on her hard drive so I can get into it remotely. Standard procedure. She’ll never know it was missing.” Maybe he could salvage something from this fiasco yet. “And the changes?”

Spike was grinning now, and had let go of Warren’s jacket. “Delete the sentences I have highlighted. Nothing else! Got it? Just be sure that the file is back on her computer by morning and I won’t ever mention it again.”

As Warren turned to head back down the hall, Spike’s hand around the younger man’s arm stopped him before he could scurry off. The boss wasn’t smiling now.

“Warren. Next time you think about taking the initiative and doing something I haven’t specifically ordered you to do, remember this conversation and stop yourself before you do something that can’t be fixed so easily. When it comes to business, you should know by now that I am not the forgiving type.”


**~**

In the morning Buffy regretted the wine from the night before. Her head hurt and her eyes were bleary, and she was ever so grateful that she had been Ms. Pro-active girl and had scheduled the opening during a three day weekend. The showing had been a huge success, but she was glad that she would have a few days to recover from it. Maybe now that it was over she could start moving on with her life.

Groaning to herself, she made her morning coffee and was just sitting down to breakfast before thoughts of the elusive Mr. Thorndale and his missing file came rushing back.

Settling once again before what had been her mother’s computer, she tried to call up Spike’s file. There it was, same as before, all the vital data about William Thorndale. Pushing her coffee cup to one side, she tried opening the second page. She only had to wait a second, and there it was. Her mother’s personal notes on William. Why couldn’t she get it to come up the night before?

Quickly she scrolled through the data. Everything seemed to be there, three pages of it. Dated entries about their conversations scattered back over a period of fifteen years. Sipping her coffee she began to read.

Still engrossed in her snooping, Buffy barely even registered the fact that Willow had entered the apartment until the perky redhead’s face poked over the top of the computer screen.

Buffy understood that Willow was a morning person, while she definitely was not. Still it was hard to deal with that chipper voice and too bright smile so early in the morning.

“You counting up all the sales from last night? Am I wrong, or was the show a huge success?” Willow was positively glowing. Hadn’t she been up until late last night also, working with Buffy at the opening? How did Willow manage to sound so happy all the time?

“Hey Wills!” Buffy replied, trying for cheerful although she kinda thought it might sound flat. “Glad you decided to drop by, even if it is too early on the morning after the night before.” At Willow’s puzzled glance she gestured to her yummi sushi pajamas and unkempt hair.

“Well, you know what I mean,” Buffy explained. “I’m not even showered or dressed yet. Guess I got a little distracted. But you aren’t wrong about the opening. At least I don’t think you are. The show was a big success. But these aren’t the accounts. I finally decided to take a look at my mom’s personal notes.”

Willow’s interested was piqued. “Really? I thought you decided that you didn’t want to do that. It was too much like reading her diary or something. What changed your mind?”

“Guy I met last night.”

“Oh, Buffy!” Willow gushed. “You met a guy? Who is he? Did he ask you out?”

Buffy tried to downplay it. “Just one of Mom’s clients, Will.”

Nonplussed at Willow’s glare she continued, “And yes, he did ask me out. But I haven’t decided how I feel about him just yet. I mean, he’s way older than me, and, well, he knew my mom! Fairly well I’m judging by what he said and what she wrote about him. It’s a little creepy dating a guy who knew about your life when you were still in grade school. Plus, there’s this whole, if he knew Mom so well, why haven’t I ever heard of him before thing. And finally, it’s like his name is familiar, but not in connection with my Mom. Hence, reading the file.”

“Hmm.” Willow didn’t really feel it was her place to comment. But Buffy did need a man in her life. She had been single far too long. In Willow’s opinion Buffy had suffered from her previous relationships far more than she’d let on at the time. Therefore the lack of so much as a casual date since Riley had left. That had been years ago.

Maybe a little push was in order. “Tell me about him.” What Buffy said would give Willow a clue as to whether she should encourage this relationship or not.

Before she even started, Willow could tell by Buffy’s expression that Buffy really was interested in this guy, despite whatever excuses she gave. The next few words out of her mouth only confirmed Willow’s assessment.

“First off, he’s really gorgeous. One of those guys who only looks better with age, you know? Only he’s not really that much older than I am. He told me he’s 38. I know it sounds ancient, but if you’d seen him you’d know it’s really not. And he has a kinda twisted sense of humor, but he’s really sweet underneath. And you can just tell that he’s used to getting his own way. He has the nicest hands, and his eyes are to die for…” Buffy stopped for a moment and looked at her friend. “Willow Rosenberg, are you laughing at me?”

Willow couldn’t help it as the giggles couldn’t be contained. “Buffy, you may not realize it, but you’ve got it bad. You start off telling me he’s gorgeous, and then you start going on and on about his hands and his eyes! If you don’t go out on a date with this guy I’ll get Oz to tickle you until you can’t see straight. You haven’t had a date in years, Buffy. You need this.”

“Okay already. I was coming around to the idea. Slowly. I’m just not as flippant about it as you are. It’s a big step for me. You know I have terrible taste in men. That’s why I wanted to see what Mom thought of him.”

“She write much?”

“Yeah, she did. I even tried a few other names to see if she kept the same kind of records on her other clients. It varies a lot. But she seemed to have a lot to say about William. None of the other pages are so detailed. At least not on the names I checked. But there were a couple of files I couldn’t pull up. It’s really strange. When I tried to look at this information last night, it just didn’t seem to be there. Now William’s personal page is back, but there are still some other’s I can’t seem to access. It’s like the computer had a nervous breakdown or something. Of course I had had a bit to drink last night, so it could be I just hit the wrong button or something.”

“Do you want me to look at it for you?” Willow was a wizard when it came to computers. It was what she did now professionally. She could surf the net like nobody’s business, and hacking into closed systems just seemed to come as second nature to her.

“You can if you want. I’m gonna go get ready to face the day. Start work on those accounts, like you said. But it’d be really great if my computer wasn’t wonky when I get back.”

“No problem, Buffy. As long as you let me have some of that coffee. I like a good computer mystery. You don’t mind if I read about him, do you? See if your mom also commented on his eyes?”

Buffy called out from the other room, “Knock yourself out Will. I’ll be back in a jiff. Well, for me anyway.” The shower was already running as Willow began reading the file Buffy had just finished. Silently she agreed with Buffy’s assessment. If Joyce had personally liked the guy, he was probably a pretty good guy. Just what Buffy needed.

She turned back to the first page and stopped, staring as she saw William’s full name and address for the first time. Buffy was right - the name was definitely familiar. But where had she heard it? She’d have it in a minute.

While she let her subconscious process whatever it was that was bothering her about Thorndale, Willow began searching through Joyce’s other files just as Buffy had – trying figure out if anything was off with Buffy’s computer. As she reached for her coffee again, she realized something else that was bothering her. The small Egyptian artifact that Buffy always kept on her computer desk and used as a paperweight was missing. After a brief search she found it under the desk, but still. It had set her mind to wondering. The artifact was small, and Buffy treated it casually, but it was still quite valuable.

By the time Buffy came out of the shower dressed for the day, Willow had her resolve face on.

“What’s up? You couldn’t possibly have run into something you couldn’t fix. Not on Joyce’s dinky old home computer!”

“It’s not that. I just realized. Buffy, we’ve been stupid. Really really stupid.”

“What do you mean, Wills? You’re starting to scare me.”

“Maybe we should be scared. You let the caterers in and out of here all last night, didn’t you? The door to the apartment was unlocked the whole time, wasn’t it?”

“Of course. There’s hardly any kitchen downstairs. They needed the refrigerator and stuff for the food.”

“I know. What scares me is that neither one of us thought what a downright stupid idea that was. Strangers in and out of your apartment all night. Think carefully Buffy. Was anything out of place last night? Anything missing?” Willow gasped as another thought occurred to her. “Buffy, this was Joyce’s computer, right? Although I know you use it sometimes too. You didn’t have anything on it yourself? Anything work related?”

“Work related?” Buffy paled. “No. Nothing work related. What are you saying Wills?”

“It’s possible someone was in here last night. Someone who shouldn’t have been. Someone who was most definitely NOT a caterer.”

Buffy sat down on the sofa, her face pale. “Tell me what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying, Agent Summers, that we need to be more careful. Your home could have been compromised last night. Anyone could have walked in here last night and stolen whatever they wanted, or worse, taken a look see at your personal files. You need to go through your apartment and make sure that there’s nothing incriminating lying around. And you need to be very sure that there are no links from this computer to work. We both know that it’s against policy, but believe me, it happens.”

“Oh! But who would even think to look through my stuff? It’s not like anyone knows that the gallery is only a sideline for me. I don’t broadcast what I do for a living, Willow. You know that.”

“Still. Someone could have been here. We can’t let you leave yourself open like that ever again. It’s too risky.”

Buffy didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t really think of her profession as risky. It wasn’t like she was a field agent or anything.

While Buffy had been gaping like a fish out of water, Willow’s mind had been busy making connections. “This guy you met last night, Buffy. Your mother’s client? His name is William Thorndale, right? The same William Thorndale who recently tried to sell a forged copy of a Renoir to the Getty museum. The same William Thorndale who also donated a stolen copy of a Munch to a Paris gallery a few years before that. We got a tip on him. The agency wants an investigation. I was gonna hand the file over to Art Investigations first thing Tuesday morning. It’ll probably be on your desk by noon.”

“Crap.” She remembered Xander’s assessment, ‘too smooth, an operator.’ Perhaps for once Xander’s opinion was correct. “Why is it that every guy I am interested in turns out to be a major loser? This guy just takes the cake. Not only is he a slime ball who wants to hit on me, now he’s a slime ball that I am supposed to investigate.” She slumped down further into the couch and put her head in her hands. “You know, Willow, sometimes this job just sucks.”





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