Chapter Nine
(Monday, Noon—Owen)
Owen stretched out his legs, enjoying the comfortable ride. The Lincoln Town Car had far more room inside than even his friend Danny’s Cadillac, which Owen had previously assumed to be the pinnacle of luxury. He toyed with the idea of buying one himself if the Jeep didn’t show up. Too expensive, probably.
The two guys who’d picked him up hadn’t said anything to him, so the trip was quiet. Owen felt no urge to open a conversation, especially after Shadow had fawned all over the guy in the back seat, the one with the gun. Shadow had jumped in back, and was getting his belly rubbed again. He was just a dog, but a little loyalty would have been nice there.
Owen was somewhat worried by the gun—or guns, which seemed more likely. Neither the driver nor the guy sitting in back had made any overt threats, but he still wasn’t happy with them.
He was pretty sure he’d be dealing with their boss before long, though. Owen had seen Shadow’s new friend in the back seat following Junior’s dad around when the old guy had toured the CyberLook offices. The goon had probably even worn the same brown suit. If Viktor Senior wanted to talk to Owen, he’d talk.
Maybe these guys were bodyguards, or bodyguard and driver? Viktor was mostly in real estate, but he was rumored to have business interests all over the city. There were other rumors, too.
If Viktor was showing this sort of interest in him, Owen hoped it meant the old man knew something about what was going on. If so, Owen was determined to convince him to share the information.
Of course it was also possible that Viktor had already concluded Owen was responsible for the whole situation. It could be that these guys were just going to kill him. Owen contemplated that for a while, then wished he could go back to thinking about the comfort of the car instead. Showing fear wouldn’t help his bargaining position, assuming he had one.
The sky had been getting darker all morning, and the clouds chose that moment to let go. Owen closed his eyes, listened to the rain. Even if Viktor thought Owen was responsible, he would probably want to ask where his son was. As long as Junior was missing, Viktor would have to talk before doing anything more drastic.
Owen opened his eyes as they turned onto a driveway, and wished he hadn’t. It was Viktor’s place, probably, and huge. The architect appeared to have been inspired to create the impression of a medieval castle, with turrets. But…it was painted in pastel yellow, pink and green. Sure, it was a popular color theme on the beach, but this was so far over the top it had hit bottom on the other side. Was Viktor Senior nuts?
The driver parked under a portico. The guy who’d been riding in the back seat was already getting out of the car, and the driver nodded for Owen to do the same. When Owen closed the door, the driver took the car around to the side of the house. Owen turned to his remaining escort and found him politely offering Shadow’s leash. Owen took it.
“Inside, second floor, first on the right.” The goon smiled, though Owen had the feeling it was both habitual and meaningless.
“Oh,” he responded. “I didn’t realize you were capable of speech. I’m sorry. How are you doing today? Nice weather for ducks, isn’t it?” He gestured at the sky. There was a flash of heat lightning in the distance. Owen tried to look as if he’d caused it.
His escort’s smile didn’t change. “Viktor’s waiting,” he said.
Owen bared his teeth in return, then went inside. Everywhere he looked he saw oiled mahogany and shining brass. The lighting fixtures were styled to resemble gaslights. Owen was sure there would be a library, a pool table, and a well-stocked bar somewhere around. Probably a swimming pool on the grounds, also well-stocked with naked nymphs. The place just had that sort of feel.
He took a wooden spiral staircase to the second floor and entered what appeared to be an office. It had to be an office, because there was a desk in it and it was slightly too big to be a basketball court. Viktor Bentley sat behind the desk. He looked up when Owen entered and rose, gesturing toward a chair. Owen sat, holding Shadow close. His escort came in behind him, closed the door, and leaned on it.
“So,” Viktor said. “Is there anything you wish to tell me?”
“Yeah. Nice paint job on the house.”
Viktor nodded. “My late wife thought so,” he said meditatively. “At first I had trouble adjusting, but with the passage of time I’ve learned to rather enjoy it. Cultivating an appreciation of absurdity has become necessary, I’ve found, as I grow older. It is, unfortunately, both pervasive and inescapable. The interior design was redone three years ago, but I left the exterior as it was, largely because I like the contrast.” He stared at Owen thoughtfully.
Owen looked back at him. He’d never spoken to Viktor before. Viktor was old, he decided, the way California redwoods were old. His once-black hair was going gray at the temples, and his beard was pure silver, but the pale blue eyes looked as if they’d never missed anything of consequence. He slouched behind the desk, but his shoulders still looked powerful. Viktor stood well over six feet tall, almost Owen’s own height, and Owen recalled from his visit to CyberLook that the old man moved like a stalking lion. Owen shook his head slightly and waited.
“You once worked for my son,” Viktor said. “But you left. And now you are involved with him again. I would like to know how, and why.”
“My only interest,” Owen said, “is finding Shawna McPhee.”
“Ah, the missing girl. Perhaps the murderess.” He watched Owen narrowly. When Owen didn’t react, he went on. “I understand she was with you, but then with my son. She then left my son and returned to you. I don’t need to know why all this has occurred,” he said, waving one finger, “but I do need to know why she was at my son’s house on Saturday night, and what your involvement is. Perhaps you can help me with this.”
Owen didn’t respond. A flash of anger crossed Viktor’s face. “Surely, you can understand a man’s need to know what has happened to his only son.”
“Sure,” Owen said. “I understand that. But I was brought here at gunpoint, which tends to limit my willingness to cooperate.” Had he really said that?
Viktor shifted his gaze to Owen’s erstwhile escort. “Atkins? Gunpoint?”
Owen sensed Atkins’ smile brightening behind him. He kept his gaze on Viktor. Show no fear, he reminded himself. But…as long as he stayed in the “tough guy” role he was creating for himself, he actually felt capable of handling the situation. Illusory, sure, but it felt real enough at the moment. Useful, as long as he didn’t completely lose touch with reality.
Atkins cleared his throat. “Just showed him the gun, sir. We were on the street, and it seemed easier than a conversation.”
“So,” Viktor said, “now I want to ask this man for information and, perhaps, cooperation. The gun, Atkins, was a bad idea. And also a felony, of course.”
“Sorry, sir,” Atkins said. Owen didn’t think he sounded even faintly sorry. “I don’t think it scared him too badly, though. He looked like he was taking a nap on the way over.”
Viktor looked back at Owen, a glint of humor in his eyes. “Well, sir? I did not intend for you to be threatened, and I offer you my most sincere apology. Are you willing to forgive and forget?”
The old bastard was smooth as hell. He’d known Atkins was going to use the gun, or do something similar. That was why he’d sent a thug. But now he’d both distanced himself from it and catered to Owen’s desire to be treated as an equal by a powerful man who, after all, sat at home in his castle.
But on the other hand, it was Viktor’s son who was missing. And Owen was beginning to like the guy. What the hell. “Sure. And maybe you can help me, too. I’m not sure what my involvement is either, or who intended to involve me, or for what reason.”
Viktor nodded slowly. “I see. Perhaps we can indeed be of assistance to one another. May I have the first few questions?”
Owen nodded warily. Maybe he would learn something from the questions Viktor chose to ask.
“Very well. Then will you tell me of the circumstances surrounding your departure from my son’s company? I understand he wanted you to stay on, and the future looked bright for all concerned.” He looked at Owen expectantly.
Was this relevant? Owen took a moment to gather his thoughts. “It was partly a matter of loyalty,” he said, “and partly a question of how I wanted to spend my time.”
“Interesting. Usually these things are about money. But do go on, sir, please.”
Owen shrugged. “Maybe some of that too. How much do you know about CyberLook?”
“Enough to know I won’t understand if you begin talking about computers. But I do understand business.”
Owen was sure of that. “Okay. Truthfully I wasn’t the techie guru of the organization either, at least by the time I left. We started out creating websites for businesses here in town. Danny Sheffield was the sales guy, and I would follow along behind him to figure out what the customer’s needs would mean to us. Usually I had to turn people away because they didn’t know what they wanted, or because they wanted something beyond our expertise or their budget, but we stayed busy.”
“It was just the two of you, then?”
“Originally, yes. I actually started it up by myself when I got out of the Army, but I don’t like sales. Danny was both good at it and interested in the idea, so we got to be partners. We hired some graphics design people, including Shawna, although she came in much later. A couple of programmers joined us pretty quickly. Frank Serno was a CPA Danny knew, and he kept the books for us.”
“How did my son become involved?”
“Greed. Dreams of wealth and glory. The technical group I was leading by then had some new ideas that were beyond simple websites. Some of the guys and I had always been more interested in complex kinds of programming. We played around with that stuff on the side. But eventually we had more competition here in town, and it was getting harder to sign up new customers. It got to the point where we had to either find customers who needed what we wanted to do or bite the bullet and pay more attention to the small-business guys who had paid our bills so far.”
“And Junior’s involvement was . . .”
“New customers, new money. We could have scaled back the fun stuff and stayed in business, but we didn’t want to. Danny brought Junior in. Junior believed in what we were doing. He was willing to finance us for a while, even to the extent of hiring some new people. Junior also had contacts in businesses that could benefit from what we could do.”
“Fascinating,” Viktor said. “So you were actually expanding as your original market share dwindled?”
“Yes. We kept our existing customers, but quit looking for more of the same.”
“Was there resentment,” Viktor asked, “between you and my son? He was changing the direction of what I am beginning to think I should refer to as your company.”
“No. No resentment at all. We would get excited, throwing ideas back and forth. We had so many plans for the future it was a strain sometimes to remember what we were doing at the moment.”
Viktor shifted in his chair. “I don’t quite understand why you left. Was it the woman?”
“No. She didn’t leave me until after I had left CyberLook. And I had no idea that was coming, so it just wasn’t a factor. The problem was that Junior was ruthless.”
Owen paused for a moment, considering his audience. “And maybe that was my problem, not his. Junior wanted to restructure the company. Get rid of our sales team per se, create something new he called a ‘Customer Relationship Management Team.‘ He wanted to focus exclusively on our new customers. Not necessarily a bad idea, but in the process he wanted to eliminate Danny’s position. He suggested that I become Operations Manager, that we hire somebody else or promote from within—my choice—to get a new Development Manager, and that we find someone new to lead the Relationship Management team.”
It might have worked. Even now Owen found the idea tempting. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t go along with it, so Junior talked to Danny about taking on the new job, but under me. I didn’t know the conversation was going to happen, but Danny didn’t believe that. So when he blew up, he did it at me. Danny had his own ideas about how to use the sales team, and they sounded pretty good. I thought he and Junior needed to talk more. After I got Danny calmed down, I told him I would fix it.”
“Ten minutes later I came to the conclusion that I enjoyed helping people solve problems, but I didn’t like my job. I could see the sense of what Junior was doing, but that sort of draconian decision-making about other people’s lives wasn’t anything I wanted to be a part of. So I left. Some people were a little shaken up, and Junior was pretty much forced to keep Danny afterwards or the whole thing might have fallen apart. It worked out okay for everybody. Mostly.”
“Just like that?” Viktor asked. “You left after ten minutes’ consideration?”
Owen nodded. “I’d been thinking about it for a while. This was only the most recent crisis. I don’t know if I made the best choice—it certainly wasn’t the best financially—but it felt right.”
“And what is your current ownership?”
“Five percent, now. It used to be more, but the contracts we all signed when Junior came aboard included a commitment to stay for three years, or forfeit some shares and options.” Owen shrugged. That might or might not end up making a difference. Any profits were being plowed back into the company. An IPO was just a dream at this stage. His five percent wouldn’t be easy to sell, and could easily turn out to be worth nothing at all. A higher percentage of nothing would still be nothing.
“And Junior recently wanted to hire you?” Viktor asked. “From what I’m hearing, that surprises me. Oh, nothing against you, young man. But he should have been more perceptive.”
“I got the impression he thought there was something wrong, but couldn’t put his finger on it. I suppose he trusted me enough to hire me to figure it out. Or maybe he was desperate. But at that point, he had my company and my girlfriend. I didn’t want to sell him my time to go with them.”
“This is fascinating,” Viktor said. “I hadn’t realized we were already partners, in a sense.”
Owen looked at him inquiringly.
“Oh, I have some interest in the company too. Junior obtained some of his capital from me.”
Owen nodded. He’d suspected that.
Viktor steepled his fingers. “I have a favor to ask, sir. Will you, as a courtesy, mingle somewhat with key employees of CyberLook and see if you can get a feel for what was bothering Junior?” The old man’s pale eyes pinned Owen to his chair. “I’ll pay whatever you like. But my son is missing, and you are the person best qualified to delve into that aspect of the situation.”
Owen thought about it. It gave him an angle, and maybe access, and he was already involved. Why not? “Yes, I’ll do it. With the understanding that finding Shawna is my first priority. But, Viktor…no more guns.”
Viktor threw his head back and laughed. “I like you, Mr. Tremaine. Or should I call you Owen? Yes, Owen. Very well, no more guns. Atkins! Tell Johnson to bring the car around.”
Owen stood. His legs felt a little shaky. That seemed to be happening to him fairly often lately. “Good-bye, Mr. Bentley. Viktor. I’ll do what I can.”
When Atkins showed him out, Owen thought about punching him in the face. Might be going overboard with the tough-guy act, he told himself.
He left peaceably.
***
Shiver on the Sky Page 12