Gardener: The Roots Of Ancient Evil (6 page)

              Shea sat behind the large oak desk. He was carefully looking over the map of his newly acquired land, and the adjacent neighborhood that would also become Shea’s land over the next decade or so. If Ricker didn’t come on board, he’d find somebody else that would. He’d already done a preliminary background check into the residents, over two hundred of them. Most of them would easily take any reasonable offer. There were only a handful that might be reluctant, but Shea knew that on a long enough time frame, all resistance would drop to zero.

That was the secret of his family’s success: Patience ultimately triumphs. Governments come and go, but families that retain their wealth outlast them all. This was true in the time of monarchies, and is true under the rule of democracies. Elected officials were much easier to control than kings or queens. The only drawback was that the occasional periods of civil unrest and war were much more pronounced. That, of course, made them much more profitable.

Shea’s private internal number buzzed.

              “Yes, Max?” Shea asked as soon as he picked up the receiver.

              “I have bit of an issue, sir, do you have a minute?” his driver and confidant asked.

              “Certainly, come on by,” Shea answered. Max knew quite a bit of Shea’s business strategies and his family history. Not the whole story, of course; that was reserved for blood members of the Shea empire. But Max was a trusted advocate nonetheless.

Max entered his office without knocking, the only person Shea allowed to do so. Shea motioned for him to sit. Max spread out several documents on the desk in front of Shea.

              “Give me the highlights first,” Shea requested.

              “The last girl, Laney, turns out she’s got a relative in town,” Max started. “A sister.”

              “Has she been notified?”

              “Not yet. Laney’s not in the system, so her prints won’t show up. The local PD has her listed as a Jane Doe at the moment,” Max explained. “But I’ve downloaded her metadata, and she made a few calls to this individual,” Max said, turning around the photo and information. Shea picked it up and read through it briefly.

              “Very impressive,” he said, nodding. “GenSpan, that’s one of those startups? Biotech?” Shea asked.

              “Yes, they seem to be taking on a lot of interest from venture capitalists,” Max explained. “They’ve collected over fifty million in funding in the last month alone,” he added.

              “What’s their premise?” Shea asked, looking at Viviana’s picture.

              “They say they are researching a genetic solution to the aging problem.”

Shea chuckled, shaking his head. “And they’ve collected fifty million already? That’s nothing but hack science,” he said, carefully placing the folder down in front of him, still open with Viviana’s picture.             

              “Maybe so, but it’s got a lot of buzz, valid or not, and you know how hard it is to find yield these days,” Max said, referring to the difficulty in finding a sizeable return on investment.

              “Are you certain they’re sisters?” Shea asked.

              “Reasonably, but I can verify that if you’d like,” Max said.

Shea picked up the file again, gazing at Viviana’s photo. “Yes, I’d like you to do that, and also, I’d like to throw ten million at this, just to keep my options open,” Shea said.

              “Sir?” Max asked.

              “Take your time. Create a believable shell company, a good back story, and then funnel ten million through this new entity to GenSpan. I’d like to keep tabs on…” He looked at the photo.

              “Viviana Berg,” Max said.

              “Berg, eh? Laney said her last name was Richmond,” Shea mused. “Wonder why she chose that one.”

              “Which, uh, individual would you like to be on record as being interested in GenSpan?” Max asked.

              “Come up with a good one, make up a name, verify it’s not already taken, and create some credentials for me in that person’s name, in case I ever have a need to meet Miss Berg. In the meantime, go through whatever intermediaries you can find. But I’d like to keep this option in my back pocket, Max. I’ve never done sisters before. You do know that is every man’s dream, don’t you?” Shea said, grinning.

              “Yes sir, I’ll take care of that. Time frame?”

              “Any time in the next month is fine, thanks, Max,” Shea said.

Max collected the folders, except for the one Shea had placed in front of him, and left. Shea glanced at Viviana one last time, closed it, and put it in his top drawer. He stood and walked out of his office, past the receptionist and out to the small guest parking lot in front. He walked down the narrow white cement sidewalk until it turned into a dirt path. He followed the dirt path behind the building and surveyed his newly acquired real estate. Several hundred acres. Once the houses had been acquired, that would add several hundred more, bringing the total to more than a thousand. Many of his ancestors had much less land than this, yet controlled entire countries. The right family operating from the correctly chosen piece of land could exert enormous power.

As Shea walked slowly up the hill toward the recently constructed greenhouse, he imagined what this world would be in a few decades. Times were changing very rapidly, and those who anticipated and took advantage of those changes did very well. The Shea family would do very well, including those who’d changed their names long ago in order to avoid detection. Shea entered into the greenhouse, surprising the workers still busily watering and tending to the many plants.

              “Mr. Shea, I wasn’t aware you’d be visiting today. Is there anything in particular you’d like?” Curtis asked.

              “No, Mr. Lusk, I just wanted to see how everything was coming, I don’t want to be in your way,” he said to his chief gardener. Lusk had come highly recommended, and had been the chief gardener at the National Museum Paleis Het Loo in the Netherlands before Shea had convinced him to help transform his newly acquired property into a world-class work of art. In this small greenhouse was Lusk’s first set of experiments, just to see which particular flora would thrive most effectively in this climate.

Shea stood there, marveling at Lusk’s work. Beautiful colors, deep reds, mesmerizing purples, hypnotic yellows. He could stand for hours appreciating the stunning brilliance of the earth. The unappreciated and mysterious life that continues to spring forth, regardless of the monstrosities of man. Shea let his mind drift, lost in thought. Finally he turned and walked back to his office. Wondering what in the world a company like GenSpan thought they were doing.

              Viviana woke up early. Five AM. Dinner last night had been wonderful. When Tommy had called she was a bit worried he was going to try and steer her to the bedroom as quickly as possible. But they’d instead spent a nice relaxing dinner, and when it was over he didn’t even mention going back to his place or her place. She normally didn’t sleep with a guy so quickly; he was just so easy to talk to. He was really smart and although underemployed, didn’t seem too weird about it. He had sense of self-confidence about his future that most guys lacked. At least normal guys, not extremely driven men like Bradley Pena. Viviana felt good working for a guy like Bradley, but she didn’t think she’d survive in a relationship with somebody like that.

She checked her phone again, something she’d done a few times during the night, waking up several times. Still no messages from Laney. Not like her at all. Even if she’d had a fantastic date with this older wealthy man she’d flown to meet, she would have texted. Laney never failed to text. She even texted Viviana once within a few minutes of making love, to ask her sister’s advice on how to extract herself as quickly and shamelessly as possible. She decided to call one more time.

              “Laney, it’s me. If you don’t call me back within an hour, I’m going to assume something’s wrong and pull the adult card. You know you don’t want me to do that. Call me!” she said, trying to sound cheerful.

She mentally reviewed the meetings they had scheduled today. There was one at eleven, but she was reasonably sure Bradley could handle it if he needed to. Viviana didn’t think she’d be able to function effectively, especially trying to sound hopeful about the future of genetics, if her sister was unaccounted for. She got up and made coffee. Read through the various headlines. Read any news releases of the two competitors Bradley was most concerned about. After a very slow-moving hour, she checked her cell phone one more time. No messages. No texts. Now it was time to get serious. First things first.             

              “Bradley, it’s Vivi, something’s come up and I won’t make the eleven o’clock, I don’t know if I’ll be in this afternoon either. I’ll check in later,” she informed his voicemail.

Next, she reviewed all her texts and emails that she’d sent in the past two weeks. Viviana knew which website Laney used to meet potential patrons, and Laney had finally relented several months ago and shared her credentials. Viviana logged in under her sister’s name, read through her emails to and from potential suitors. She found the one from here in town. He said he was coming here on business, and since it was a halfway point, why don’t you come and visit? Viviana took down his name and email address, most likely fake. She suspected many of these guys were married, and were using this site to have discreet affairs. If need be, she’d hire an investigator to try and track down this individual, but she didn’t hold out much hope.

She did find what she was looking for, however. Laney told him she was arriving on American Airlines flight 827, arriving at COS Airport at ten thirty-five, and she was staying at the Colorado Springs Hilton, as requested by her suitor. Viviana suspected that this suitor had paid for her flight and hotel room. That would make things difficult. If the flight and hotel were under her sister’s name and credit card, they might be more willing to share any information. She called the hotel first.

              “Hello, my name is Viviana Berg; I hope you can help me. My sister stayed there this week, and she still may be checked in, but I suspect she was booked under a different name. Is there any way you know if I might find her room?” she asked, and then listened patiently to the response. She hung up and dialed the airline and got the same response, as expected.

Her next choice terrified her. She could call the police and report her as missing. Or she could hire a private investigator and ask him or her to use whatever methods they used to track her down. One choice required an assumption that something terrible had happened. The other choice required an assumption that she’d simply forgotten and was being wined and dined in a foreign country. But if she made that assumption, that she’d simply forgotten, but she was really in danger, Viviana would never forgive herself.

              “Hello, my name is Viviana Berg, and I’d like to report a missing person. Laney Berg,” she said. She explained the situation. That her sister was in college, and how she was obtaining her tuition. And that she’d flown into town to meet an older gentleman, and she hadn’t texted since. They asked for her to send a photo of her sister and any other information she had, including her login credentials to the website. Very professional, but also lacking any sense of urgency. This worried Viviana a great deal.

              “Do you think you’ll find anything?” she asked.             

              “Let us look into it, and if we don’t find anything within a day or two, we’ll let you know and you can decide what you can do from that point. But I’ll be honest, given the situation, it’s very likely she’s just on a very long date, don’t worry, you’ll find her,” the officer said.

Viviana hung up. Not quite the response she was expecting. Now she was more worried than ever. She’d already called Bradley, so there was no hurry to go in to work. But if she stayed here waiting, she’d go crazy. She wondered if maybe Laney had called their mom, but Viviana stuffed that thought aside. She decided to catch up on her reading of the various technical and medical journals she subscribed to. Maybe that would put her mind at ease.

              Tommy sat at his laptop, listening to his dad crash around in the kitchen. Sounded like he had a particularly rough night. Sometimes his dad would wake up and make himself some strong coffee, which would make him ill, as his stomach was still recovering from the night before. Tommy had two websites open. One was Shea Industries; the other, Anderson Furniture. Even the furniture website looked homemade. Solid numbers, fantastic potential. His thoughts vacillated between two ideas. Anderson Furniture, a solid growth and a good notch on his belt. And far away from his dad. Or Shea Industries, a powerful real estate family with a mysterious history, lots of money. And Vivi. And his dad, and the inevitable conversations, or confrontations, that would come up.

Deep down, Tommy knew his dad was slowly drinking himself to death on purpose. Maybe he didn’t realize it, but Tommy did. He’d known it for a while. It was so clear, but also something he could never confront his father about. Because part of him wanted him to hurry up and get it over with. He thought of Vivi. If only she hadn’t bumped into him in that coffee shop, this would be the easiest decision he’d ever make. See ya, Pop. I’ll be back for your funeral.

His phone buzzed. He looked, smiled instantly.

              “Hey,” he said, turning away from his computer, and his decision.

              “Tommy, I need your help,” she said.

Tommy sensed she was crying. “What’s wrong?” he asked, standing.

              “I think something’s happened to Laney, my sister. I called the police an hour ago and they just called me back. They found somebody, up in some park, they said they think it’s her. They want me to come and identify the body. I can’t go alone,” she said softly.

              “I’ll be right there,” Tommy said. “OK? I’ll be right. There.”

              Tommy held her hand tightly as they walked into the city hospital. Down the stairs to the basement. The officer escorting them was silent. Professional. Perhaps he’d done this hundreds of times before. They walked up to a glass barrier. On the other side was the officer that Viviana had spoken to on the phone. She was standing next to a body covered in a white sheet. She looked at Viviana, and Viviana nodded. The officer pulled back the sheet, revealing Laney’s face.

Viviana let out a moan and turned to Tommy, burying her face in his shoulder. Tommy nodded, thanking the officer, and then put his arms around Viviana, his previous career vacillations entirely vaporized.

              “I’m here,” he said softly to her. “I’ve got you.”

              “Who would do this to her?” she asked after a few moments. They walked down the hall, away from the window, and sat on a small wooden bench next to a bank of vending machines.

              “I don’t know,” he said. “But I will help you find out. I mean, if that’s what you want,” he said. She looked up at him. Smiled. And nodded.

              “OK.”