Shadow Account (20 page)

Amy Richards picked up the napkin and placed it in her lap as Paul Stone sat down on the other side of the table. Stone was nice enough to her when they met, but something told her it was all just an act. That if he didn’t want anything from her, he wouldn’t have given her the time of day.

“How have you been, Amy?” Stone began.

“All right.”

“How’s your son?”

“His birthday is next week.”

“Really? And how old will he be?”

“Six,” Amy answered, “and I want to get him something nice. Something
very
nice.”

“I’m sure you—”

“But I don’t have any cash, because you haven’t paid me, Paul.” The most important thing about all this for Amy was to get herself back into Conner’s life. But, after all, a deal was a deal. Stone had promised her $25,000, and he hadn’t delivered a cent of it. She’d given up her waitressing job to do this, and her meager savings were gone. “I want my money.”

Stone’s expression turned grim. “Have you gotten me anything yet? Any proof?”

“That wasn’t the arrangement. You never said that payment was contingent on me finding—”

“Conner Ashby is screwing my wife,” Stone blurted out, teeth gritted. “I know it. You have to get me evidence.”

Amy glanced around, aware that people at the tables close to them had stopped talking. “Look,” she said quietly, leaning forward, “I’ve been following Conner and your wife for a while now, and they haven’t met once.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” he hissed. “And how do I know you’ve really been following them? Why should I trust you?”

Amy tossed her napkin on the table. “I don’t need this,” she said, starting to stand up.

But he caught her hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just upset. Mandy took today off and I couldn’t reach her. I’m sure she was with—”

“She was with a couple of her girlfriends,” Amy explained, easing back into the chair. “I watched her all day. I’m telling you, she didn’t see Conner.”

Stone caressed Amy’s hand, nodding. “Good. I’m so glad,” he murmured, sounding relieved. He shook his head, gazing into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Amy. Sooner or later, Conner’s going to wake up and realize what a fool he’s been.”

She watched his thumb move back and forth on her skin. “I hope so,” she said quietly.

Stone squeezed her fingers. “From now on, stay with Conner. There’s no need to follow Mandy anymore. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“One more thing,” Stone said, releasing her hand.

“What?”

“Be careful with Conner.”

Amy glanced up. “What do you mean by that?”

Stone picked up a roll and began buttering it. “Gavin is having friends of his check Conner out very thoroughly.”

“Why?”

“We have questions.”

“What kind of questions?” she asked.

Stone shook his head. “I can’t say any more right now. Just be careful.”

For the last three hours Conner had been going through the Pharmaco file: financial statements, SEC documents, and news articles about the company. Now he was ready to get to the valuation. With a couple of quick taps on the keyboard, he called up a spreadsheet. With it, he could project Pharmaco’s earnings and cash flow, then discount the cash flows back to the present to see what the company was worth. To see if the European company was offering a fair price, or trying to steal it.

Conner heard the Phenix front door open and close, and he glanced up from the computer. He’d assumed he was the only person left in the office. Someone must have come
in
. He leaned forward in the chair, straining to hear anything.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash followed by several bangs. He rose quickly from the seat and raced to the hallway, hesitating at the door. He heard a female voice scream; then there was the sound of smashing glass. The commotion was coming from Paul Stone’s office, three doors down. He sprinted the short distance to Stone’s door and peered inside. Rebecca was about to hurl a file against the wall.

“Hey!” Conner charged into the office as papers flew everywhere. “What are you doing?”

Rebecca was sobbing, tears streaming down her face. She ignored him and reached for a banker’s lamp on Stone’s desk.

Conner grabbed her wrist before she could get it. “What’s the problem?” he demanded.

“Let me go!” she shouted, twisting to break free.

But Conner held on tightly until she finally stopped struggling.

“Please let me go,” she begged, still sobbing.

“Not until you stop the wrecking ball imitation. If you break anything else, I’ll call the cops. Promise me you’ll calm down.”

“Okay, okay,” she murmured.

“Good. Now I’m going to let go. You better not do anything,” he warned, releasing her arms.

Her shoulders sagged and she stared down at the floor.

“What’s the matter?” Conner asked again.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, her lips quivering.

“Believe what?”

“I can’t believe Paul could do this to me.”

“Do
what
?”

Rebecca looked up slowly, her face streaked black by mascara. “I thought he loved me. I’m so stupid,” she muttered.

“What happened!”

“He told me he was going to leave his wife. He swore he would. He said he loved me.”

Conner grimaced. This was something he didn’t want to get in the middle of. Somehow Rebecca had figured out what the real deal was. That she was nothing more than a physical distraction. “Yeah, well—”

“I’m so stupid,” she repeated.

“No, you aren’t,” Conner said compassionately, pushing several strands of hair from her face. Stone was an arrogant prick, but he could turn on the charm when he wanted to. Conner had seen him in action. A snake of a salesman who could make even sophisticated business types believe he liked them. Believe they would all be friends whether there was a transaction or not, when all he really wanted was their money. If Stone could do that to people who were already jaded, it was no surprise he could reel in a young, naive woman like Rebecca. “You have to look hard to see the real Paul Stone.”

“But I never thought he’d cheat on me, too.”

Conner looked up. “What do you mean?”

Rebecca wiped her face. “I just saw him having dinner with some blonde. And I know it wasn’t his wife, because she was in here the other day. So he’s cheating on Mandy with me, and on
me
with some other woman!” she screamed, her emotions spiraling out of control again. She reached for the lamp.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Conner caught her wrist before she could do any damage. “A blonde?” he asked.

“Yes,” Rebecca said, seething. “And he told me he didn’t even like blondes.”

It made no sense for Stone to cheat with a woman other than Rebecca. Sooner or later Gavin would find out. Then there’d be hell to pay because the whole reason Gavin had arranged Rebecca for Paul was so he could carry on an affair without Mandy finding out. By going outside the firm, he’d be risking discovery, and Gavin would go ballistic, maybe even fire him.

“What did this woman look like?” Conner asked.

“I don’t remember. I was so damned mad when I saw them.”

“Did she have
long
blond hair?”

“I think so.”

“Was she tall or short?”

“I don’t know.”

“You must have seen,” he pushed.

“They were sitting down at a table. I couldn’t tell.” She glanced angrily at his hands, which were still gripping her wrist tightly. “You’re hurting me.”

Conner released his grip. “Sorry.” A thought had flashed through his mind. Something that, if he could prove, would take everything that was happening to a new, almost unbelievable level. “Is there anything you can tell me about the woman? Any distinctive feature?”

Rebecca thought for a moment. “Not really. She was blond and kind of pretty. But not as pretty as me.”

Then it hit him. The answer to that frustrating feeling that had been gnawing at him since Wednesday night. The feeling that he was missing something that should have been obvious.

“All right,” he said quietly. “Go home and get some sleep. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for what you saw.”

“I don’t think so,” she said angrily. “You should have seen how close they were. Leaning toward each other while they were talking. He was . . . He was stroking her hand.”

“Paul’s told me how much he cares about you, Rebecca,” Conner said.

“He has?” she asked meekly.

“Several times. And to tell you the truth, I wasn’t surprised. It’s pretty obvious to everyone in the office how he feels about you. I mean, he’s a changed man since you showed up.” Conner smiled sadly. “It’s not like anyone blames him either. For wanting to be with you, I mean. His wife is such a . . .”

“A bitch!” Rebecca finished the sentence.

“Well—”

“Yes, she is.”

Conner snapped his fingers. This would convince Rebecca. “You know what I just remembered?”

“What?”

“Paul told me he was having dinner tonight with the granddaughter of a man we’ve been working with for quite some time. The old guy owns a big sports apparel company in California or something. Paul’s been trying to convince him to sell the company because his family wants cash. The granddaughter has been representing the rest of the family in the whole thing. Paul was meeting with her tonight to update her. What you saw was business. Nothing more.”

Rebecca suddenly looked as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. “Really?”

“Yup. Paul and I talked about it last week. It slipped my mind.”

She put her hands on her chest. “That makes me feel a little better.”

Conner nodded, spotting an AT&T Wireless bill lying on top of the in-box on the corner of Stone’s desk. “You should get going,” he urged. “Call a car service to take you home.”

“Are you sure that’s all right?” she asked timidly. “I live all the way out on Staten Island. It’s an expensive ride.”

“No problem,” Conner assured her. “You shouldn’t be riding the ferry this late at night. Go call a car. And get a receipt. I’ll sign it. Okay?”

“Thank you very much, Conner.” She glanced around the office, surveying the damage. “What should I do about this?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. You go call that car.”

When she was gone, Conner moved to Stone’s desk, picked up the cell phone bill, and slipped it in his pocket.

“A man named Conner Ashby was in Washington today.”

“Should that mean anything to me?”

“Ashby met with someone named Victor Hammond at the accounting firm of Baker Mahaffey who then sent him out to see Glen Frolling. Frolling is the treasurer of Global Components.”

“How do you know he saw Frolling?”

“That’s how he signed the visitor register. To see Frolling. We checked the register an hour ago. You should know that Frolling is the corporate secretary of Global Components. The man who keeps minutes of the board meetings.”

“So he would be in a position to know.”

“Yes.”

Cheetah paused. “Do you think he told Ashby anything?”

“Frolling is no idiot. He knows where his bread is buttered. But this guy Ashby turns out to be pretty resourceful. Frolling might not have had to say anything.”

Cheetah looked out the window into the darkness. “What is Ashby’s interest in Global Components?”

“I can’t be specific. But I will tell you that it’s ultimately the same as yours. Even though he doesn’t know it yet.”

. . .

“Hello, Eddie.”

“Hey, Mista Ashby.” The doorman glanced up from the sports section of his
New York Post
.

“Thanks for sticking around.” Eddie’s shift had finished at midnight and it was almost one o’clock.

“What do you need?” Eddie wanted to know.

Conner glanced at the on-duty doorman, then gestured for Eddie to follow him to a spot in the lobby where they wouldn’t be overheard. “Are there any apartments on the seventh floor, my floor, that are rented but not occupied?”

“What do you mean?”

“An apartment that’s leased, but you never see the tenant?”

Eddie scratched his head. “Now that you mention it, I can think of one place. I’ve never seen anybody from 7G.”

7G was a few doors down from Conner’s. One of the doors where the fresh scuff marks on the floor and walls were. Scuff marks he’d noticed the day he’d fought with the intruder.

“I just figured it was coincidence,” the doorman continued. “Or that the people in that apartment were on a schedule that didn’t square with mine. I’ve been doing the four-to-midnight shift for six months. They just rented 7G in June. At least, that’s what the sheet says.”

“The sheet?”

“Yeah, it’s a list we keep at the front desk that lets us know about new tenants. This is a big building. There’s lots of people moving in and out all the time. Without the sheet we’d never be able to keep track of everybody.”

Conner glanced warily at the on-duty doorman. “Do you guys have master keys?”

“Yeah,” Eddie confirmed hesitantly.

Almost suspiciously, Conner could tell. “Can we go up and take a look inside 7G?” he asked, his voice low.

“Huh?”

“I want to take a look at that apartment.”

“No way. I could get fired for that, Mista Ashby.”

“No one will ever know.”

“The tenants in the apartment will know.”

“You just said yourself you’ve never seen them. And that it’s been three months since the place was rented. Don’t you think you would have seen someone by now?”

Eddie shrugged. “Yeah, yeah. But like I also said, that might be coincidence.”

“No,” Conner said confidently. “The place is empty.”

“Then why do you want to look around?”

“I’ve got my reasons, Eddie. Please.”

“I . . . I can’t.”

Conner checked over his shoulder, making certain there wasn’t anyone outside the front door peering in through the glass. He’d been careful coming out of the Phenix building, scanning up and down Park Avenue several times before climbing in the cab.

“Tell you what,” Conner said, “why don’t you ask the guy who’s on duty now if he’s ever seen anyone from 7G. If he hasn’t, then you’ll know it’s clear and we can check it out.”