Intrusion (24 page)

“I told you before, ma
belle
. I will never leave your side unless you ask. Count on that.” He thrust a sheet of plain printer paper at me. “
Here.
I found this taped to your front door when I went back for your gloves. I put it in one of your plastic bags to preserve evidence.”

The message was succinct. In neatly printed letters someone warned: BACK OFF BITCH OR YOU’LL DIE.

Porsche’s have superior heaters, but that didn’t help me. My body shook as if I were stranded in the Arctic. Someone, a murderer perhaps, had breached my supposedly secure building and threatened me. Anyone with sense would have called the cops right away. Not me, the newly galvanized Lizzie Mae. I was consumed by a rage so volcanic I almost swooned.

“That does it,” I growled. “I’ll never back off now. Screw Andrews and all the other cops. I’ll handle this myself.”

“Too late,” Lucian said. “I dialed the Sergeant on my way down. He said he’d meet us at CYBER-MED.”

This time there were no sly jokes or innuendos. Lucian’s handsome features were etched in stone.

“Maybe you should give it up,” he said, “leave everything to the authorities. That’s what Tommy asked you to do.” He slid into his seat and fired up the engine.

A momentary suspicion flashed through me. Could Lucian himself have penned that note? What a perfect way to scare me off without hurting me or Della. It was printed so it was hard to tell who wrote it. I summoned the lawyer’s look: a smooth, impenetrable mask.

“You don’t get it. Nothing scares me anymore.
Hasn’t for a long time.”

Lucian paused, warily scanning my face. “Would Kai accept that? Risking your life? I thought he cherished you.”

I hugged Della’s silky fur, pulling her close for a nose kiss. “Don’t act like you knew him. Kai was willing enough to risk his own life and our son’s.” As always whenever I thought of that, renegade tears welled up in my eyes. I swiped at them with my sleeve.

Lucian reached across the gearbox and gathered me in his arms. “You’re very brave. I know that, but you don’t have to do this alone. Let me help you.”

I pulled away, fighting every instinct inside me. “You can help. Just don’t get in my way. This is something I must do for Tommy and for me.”

He gave a brisk nod, shifted the powerful beast and edged into traffic. “
D’accord
.
Next stop, CYBER-MED.”

The two-mile drive was unendurable. Lucian kept his eyes on the road, even while we waited for traffic lights. I barely noticed. Today’s drama engulfed me so much that I felt disembodied. Before long I would face a building full of potential murderers. Virtually everyone at CYBER-MED had the skills and information to mastermind this monstrous crime. I suspected there were at least two conspirators, one to target potential customers and one to
effect
the crime. I don’t subscribe to
Soldier of Fortune
Magazine.
I have no idea what the fee schedule is for murder. Pretty steep, I bet, especially with the possibility of life without parole staring you in the face. Murder one carries a hefty penalty, even in this bluest of states.

“I forgot to tell you,” Lucian said. “I spoke with Katherine today at my club.”

“Katherine? I’m drawing a blank.”

He gifted me with his winsome smile. “Mrs. Cotter. You know, Ian Cotter’s wife.”

“Ah. Did she brandish a weapon or have anything valuable to say?”

His grin widened. “No weapon, but she had plenty to say. According to her, Ian was inoffensive, harmless. Played around but always crawled home to her begging forgiveness. She swears the womanizing was part of his public persona. You know, a way to entice the clients.”

“Yeah.
I love a man who knows how to beg.” I smiled sweetly. “Ian must have been some actor, enticing Tatiana Lake right into her bed.”

Lucian made a quick turn despite the squealing tires and clenched fists of other drivers. “Kat said that Ian frequently got threats from boyfriends and husbands.” He shrugged. “It was
par le
cours
for him. No big deal.
Most of the time they’d have a beer together and part friends.
That’s how they handle these things in France. Many men have a mistress or someone on the side. Women do, too.”

“Interesting.
Any suspects?
Guys who don’t like beer, for instance?”

“Not really,” Lucian said. “Although one guy, older
,
 
wouldn’t
play ball. Ian worried a bit about him. No name, but like most of them he was wealthy.”

“Was she telling the truth?” I asked. “That’s pretty sensitive information to blurt out to a stranger.”

His smile was priceless. “Did I say that we were strangers?”

“No, of course not,” I stammered.

I’m a woeful interrogator. Nosy questions and sly hints give me hives. What if he thought I was jealous or possessive? Nothing could be further from the truth.

“Kat is a sensitive woman,” Lucian said. “Losing control the other night embarrassed her. She has no love for Margaret Cahill, although she didn’t say why.”

“I can think of a dozen reasons, especially if the good doctor was toying with Ian.”

Lucian swung into a space on the street adjoining CYBER-MED just as Candy alighted from a cab wearing a media savvy red power suit with subdued black piping. Without much effort she’d nailed it, a serious but stylish venture into corporate America.

I gave Della the down-stay command and wiggled out of my seatbelt. “Just one more thing,” I told Lucian. “This is America, not France, and I don’t buy Mrs. Cotter’s blasé act one bit. If she loved her husband, she cared about his carousing. Believe me.”

We locked eyes. “A woman like you would not tolerate that, my Elisa, but not everyone is so strong.” Lucian walked over and opened the passenger side door. “Come. We must discuss this some other time. Ms.
Ott
awaits us.”

 
Despite the publicity, the media were conspicuously absent. I scanned the streets around CYBER-MED, looking for telltale vans, helicopters or lurking scribes. In the scheme of things, I suppose our story was less compelling than war, terrorism or economic ruin unless you had an IMD inside your body.

There was no welcome party to greet us in the lobby, just a lone guard whose dour expression dared us to make a false move. He handed Lucian a visitor’s pass and waved the three of us toward the elevator.

“Meg must be expecting you,” I told Lucian. “That woman is on the ball even when a crisis looms.”

Candy snorted. “Let’s just hope she hasn’t booby-trapped the elevator.
Arun
said she doesn’t like you, Betts.”

“Really?
Boo
hoo
. I can live without her approval. Need I mention that she’s our
junior partner?”

That’s another lesson that Kai had taught me: stop agonizing over other people’s opinion of you. It’s one obsession that can drive you nuts.

We reached the executive floor without mishap. When the elevator doors opened, Tony Torres awaited us. He was friendly enough, but something about his looming presence disturbed me. He was always there, lurking on the fringes of CYBER-MED like a migraine.

“Sandman!
Great to see you, guy.” He gave Lucian a man-hug and lowered his voice. “Watch your step in there. They’re on the warpath.
Sent me down to the lobby to wait for the cops.
Just what I want to do.
Maybe a change at the top wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

Candy glanced at his muscular hindquarters as he retreated. “
Wow, that
Tornado stays in shape. No loafing around the donut box for him.
Stairmaster all the way.”
She strode down the corridor, stilettos
clicking ,
knocked briskly at the conference room door and glided in with Lucian and me trailing in her wake.

It was all quiet on the meeting front. Meg sat with her ankles crossed like a superior student awaiting praise. Her husband’s eyes never left her. Carter snarled a greeting and inched closer to his wife, angling his body as if to shield her.
Arun
, his fingers flying over the keyboard, worked his
iPhone
. He glanced up, eyes aglow, when Candy entered the room.

“How are you?” I asked. “We came as soon as we heard. Maybe with some contingency planning …”

“Don’t worry, Elisabeth. Everything’s under control.”

Meg’s voice was calm, friendly even. Was her euphoria natural or chemically induced? I’d expected something different, a war council, not a slumber party.

“Aren’t you worried?” Candy asked. “CYBER-MED just imploded. By tomorrow every client will pull up stakes.”

Meg’s smugness irritated me. This was no trivial matter to dismiss or will away. The survival of the company, our company, was at stake.

Lucian chose a corner seat. He was a lynx, languidly stretching his long, elegant limbs as he surveyed his adversaries with practiced ease.

“I hope you’re satisfied,” Carter growled my way. “You had to do it, didn’t you?”

“I beg your pardon.”

“The video.
You had to tip them off.” He held a snowy linen handkerchief to his nose. “Well, it won’t work. We’ve already turned down your offer, Mrs. Buckley.”

“You can’t talk to her like that.” Candy wheeled around, ready to pounce. “Betts had nothing to do with this.”

“Maybe we should just wait for Sergeant Andrews,” I said. “No sense in repeating ourselves.”

“Of course not, but the exodus you spoke of won’t be happening.” Meg patted her perfect bob. “I just finished speaking with our most prominent client. For your information, Secretary
Chernikova
will remain with CYBER-MED. Once that word gets out, the rest will fall in line.”

Everything made sense. Meg, the master tactician, had called in the big guns to save her. Why dither when you have both right and might on your side? Richard
Chernikova
had paid his debt, but at what price? It might cost him his life.

“What about the murders? Tommy died to prevent more from happening.”

“Unproven, irresponsible nonsense.”
Carter did his table-pounding act again. His antics must take quite a toll on the family furniture. I reacted by ignoring him.

“Let’s think strategically,” I said. “You need to listen to what Dr. Sand has to say, all of you. I commissioned him to check out the methodology of this scheme, assuming it exists, of course.”

Lucian discussed the same material I’d heard before. Candy gasped at the implications, Meg and
Arun
grunted politely, and Carter drummed his fingers.

“That’s all very illuminating, Dr. Sand, but your theories fail to link CYBER-MED to anything illegal.” Meg gave a tight little smile that was more like a dismissal. “I realize you ladies have controlling interest, but
Arun
and I know the medical community. Let us handle this for all our sakes.”

I value self-control even under difficult conditions. Deep breathing, yoga style, came in handy during tough times like this. Rather than savage Meg, I took a cleansing breath.

“My concern is for the victims past and present. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Not at all,” she said. “There are no victims, Mrs. Buckley, only suppositions.”

Candy didn’t practice yoga. She leapt right into the fray.
“Now just one minute.
Our friend Tommy was murdered.”

Arun
leaned over and patted her hand. I didn’t trust him or even like him much, but I had to admit his concern seemed genuine. He stopped texting and cleared his throat.

“As a scientist I have to say this is disturbing. However, everything Dr. Sand mentioned can also have a less sinister explanation. Not everyone is a conspiracy theorist.”

“And yet,” Lucian interjected smoothly, “only today someone threatened Mrs. Buckley’s life.” He held up the plastic envelope containing the note. “Is this not disturbing?”

Before anyone could react, the door opened. Rand entered the room with Sergeant Andrews and
Francie
Cohen in tow.

“Excuse me, everyone,” Rand said. “He insisted on seeing you.” He lowered his eyes and slowly backed out of the room.

“Now see here,” Carter growled. “We want our attorney present for any interrogations.”

I had to admire Andrews’ poise. He was undeterred by the rich man’s tantrum. After motioning
Francie
to a seat in the back, he calmly faced our group.

Twenty-One

“Pardon the
interruption, folks. This isn’t an interrogation.
More of an inquiry, actually.
Since your firm made the news, I have to follow up.” Andrews grinned. “Now, Dr. Sand here reports a threat to Mrs. Buckley. Things are heating up.”

“
It’s
nonsense,” Carter Cahill sniffed.
“Poppycock.”