“A good manager doesn’t wait to be handed every piece of information that matters. He looks. That’s the position. That’s why we gave it to you.” He glanced toward the security guard, then back at Fitch. “And that was before I walked into my own lobby to find one of our shareholders being escorted toward the door.”
Fitch’s eyes moved to Cindy. It was a small movement, barely a second, but it carried everything in it — the search for somewhere to place the blame, the instinct of a man looking for an exit. Cindy met his gaze from behind her desk. Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible. “I tried to tell you.” The silence that followed was a different kind than the one before it.