“Yeah. I don’t see this as something your dad would do. However, there are a lot of people who think he used the classic pump-and-dump ploy. You know, the stock gets talked up until a huge amount is sold, then the guys who did the talking sell and, boom, the stock crashes. There are a lot of people who think he did take the money. They’re angry, very angry.”
She nodded. “I understand. I read that some of those employees had worked for Kelly for over thirty years. Now they have nothing.”
“I’m just letting you know that microphones are going to be shoved in your face the second you step outside. Security already called to say a couple of reporters for those rag mags have tried sneaking up here.”
“Thank you for the warning,” she said. “There’s nothing worse than being blindsided.”
“You might want to think about some time off until this blows over.”
“If I did that every time my father was in the news, I’d never get anything done.”
Bitterman stood and looked past her into the main office. “Here comes the FBI.”
“They’re early this time,” she said without turning. They usually didn’t take her in for the chat until at least a day or two after her father hit the news. “I wonder why the hurry.”
Bitterman looked sympathetic as he answered her. “Because I called them.”
JOURNAL ENTRY 61
ARCTIC CAMP
Today we observed the pack take down a caribou. It was amazing to watch the wolves work together to cut a straggler from the herd and attack from all sides, as though they communicated by mental telepathy.
Ricky orchestrated it all, and the others followed his lead. He made the kill. His powerful jaws clamped down on the caribou’s throat, and he would not release his hold until the animal had fallen to the ground. The other wolves pounced then, and with Ricky’s permission, enjoyed a feast.
I cannot feel sympathy for the caribou. His purpose was obviously to feed Ricky and his family.
Survival of the fittest.
When he returned to our facility, Eric and I talked about Ricky’s amazing strength and the abundance of the mysterious hormone in his blood. Eric is calling it K-74. He’s asked for my help in isolating Ricky so that we can take another blood sample. Since Brandon and Kirk have shown little interest in Eric’s findings, he has asked me not to mention what we’re doing.
I have become Eric’s willing assistant, for my curiosity as a scientist is the reason I have traveled this far. I believe we must be flexible and willing to try new methods. Since Brandon is old school and would not agree with my opinions, it’s best he not know what we’re doing.
DECISION TIME. SOPHIE COULDN’T QUITE MAKE UP HER mind if she wanted to play the dumb blonde or the bitchy blonde during the questioning. Over the years, she’d perfected both roles. Maybe for a change of pace she’d be flirty this time. Her friends said she knew how to work a room. Flirting with an FBI agent, though? Sophie doubted she could pull that off.
She knew there would be two agents. They always seemed to travel in pairs. For safety’s sake, she supposed.
She squared her shoulders and turned around. All thoughts of playing any games flew out the window as soon as she saw Alec approaching. She relaxed her guard and took a deep breath.
Bitterman edged his way around the desk and went to the door to open it. Sophie was smiling until she saw another agent turn the corner and follow Alec. Uh oh. He was the man she had met at the hotel the night of the poker game. Jack MacAlister.
It had taken a considerable amount of discipline on Sophie’s part to dismiss him then, but she wasn’t sure she could pull it off again. No harm looking, was there? He was awfully handsome. What woman wouldn’t look? But Jack was also in the FBI, and she was the daughter of a man they considered a career criminal. That reminder helped her control the attraction. She barely glanced at him again and kept her focus on Alec.
Her boss had met Alec several months ago when he had given her a ride to work. He shook Alec’s hand and said, “Come on inside.”
Alec introduced Jack to Bitterman and smiled as he watched Sophie’s boss squeeze his way around the root beer to get to his chair.
“Have a seat, all of you,” Bitterman said.
Jack looked around the office in astonishment. “There must be a hundred crates in here.”
“I only wish I had that many,” Bitterman said. “If you want a cold one, there’s some in the fridge behind Sophie.”
Neither one of the feds took him up on his offer. “You do know this is a fire hazard, right?” Jack asked.
“The way I see it, the root beer would put any fires out.”
Jack laughed. “It probably would.”
“Before I forget, Regan wants you to call her,” Alec told Sophie.
“I will.”
“Do you remember meeting Jack?”
She finally looked at the agent. “I remember. I would say it was nice seeing you again, but it might not be. I guess it all depends on why you’re here.” Turning to Alec, she asked, “Why did Mr. Bitterman call you?”
“You didn’t tell her?”
Bitterman shook his head. “I figured she would just shrug it off. I thought I’d leave it to one of you to tell her and hopefully make her understand how serious this is.”
Alec was pretty sure she would shrug him off, too, so he nodded to Jack to let him know he wanted him to break it to her. Maybe hearing the news from someone who wasn’t a friend would have a greater impact.
Jack didn’t bother to be diplomatic or ease into the announcement.
“Someone wants you dead.”
“Okay.” She nodded, nonplussed.
“Okay? That’s all you’ve got?” Jack asked.
As far as Jack could tell, the news didn’t affect her at all. God love her, she shrugged. She was good. He couldn’t help but be impressed.
“Do you hear this kind of stuff often?”
“My father is Bobby Rose. What do you think, Agent MacAlis-ter?”
He resisted the urge to smile. Yeah, she was good all right, but he still wasn’t buying the blasé attitude.
Alec was much more gentle in his approach to get through to her. “There have been some threats.”
Still no visible reaction. “Okay.”
“We’re not taking this lightly, Sophie,” Alec said, his voice firmer now. He was trying the no-nonsense method even though he knew it was pointless. Sophie was as stubborn as his wife. No wonder they were such great friends.
“Thank you for telling me. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go call Regan. You didn’t tell her about the threats, did you?”
“No, I didn’t tell her, but she saw the press conference. She knows your father’s back in the news.”
Jack noticed something protruding ever so slightly on the wall next to the refrigerator. He moved closer, then glanced over his shoulder at Alec and said, “There’s a bug in here.”
Bitterman planted his hands on his desktop, half stood, and looked around the room. “Where? What kind of bug? I hate roaches, and I hate spiders.” He sat down again and was rolling up a newspaper as he anxiously waited.
“It’s not that kind of bug, sir.” Jack leaned close to Sophie, his arm brushing against her shoulder as he reached past her and pulled the listening device from the wall next to the refrigerator. To a novice, the barely visible bug would look like it was part of the dark wall socket. It was dusty, which meant it had been there for some time.
Jack tossed the device to Alec. “Look familiar?”
With Jack standing so close, Sophie was trapped. Pressed up against the refrigerator, she could feel it humming behind her back. She thought about trying to squeeze past him or nudge him aside, but he wasn’t the type to be nudged. His body looked solid as a rock. She doubted she could nudge him anywhere. Besides, if she squirmed or moved at all, he might notice her discomfort, and she didn’t want him to notice anything about her. FBI agents other than Alec weren’t to be trusted, and she w
asn’t about to let Agent MacAl-ister know he made her nervous.
When it came to her father and his “issues,” no one was going to push her around.
Jack glanced down at Sophie and held her gaze for only a second or two, but it was long enough to look into her gorgeous eyes, time enough to take in the scent of her subtle, feminine perfume. Very nice.
He quickly moved away. The last thing he needed was to get close to Bobby Rose’s daughter.
Sputtering and red-faced, Bitterman drew his attention. “Are you saying … Are you telling me someone’s bugging my office? Someone is listening in on my private conversations?” He was outraged. “Who’s doing it?” he demanded in the next breath. “It’s not FBI, is it? Is it FBI, Alec?”
Alec shook his head. “It’s the same kind Gil found in Sophie’s apartment,” he told Jack. To Bitterman, he said, “Nothing we would use.”
Bitterman realized he was still clutching the rolled-up news paper. He tossed it into the trash can. “You’re certain?”
“One hundred percent.”
“It looks like something you could buy over the Internet,” Jack remarked. “Amateur stuff.”
“Hold on a minute. Someone bugged your apartment, Sophie?” Now Bitterman was outraged on her behalf.
“It’s all right,” she said to calm him. “I’m used to it. I don’t want you to worry about this.”
“You’re used to having your privacy invaded?” Jack asked.
Exasperated, she said, “Again, Agent MacAlister. My father … Bobby Rose … ?”
The way she drew her father’s name out made Jack want to laugh. If she were a man, he’d probably call her a smart-ass, but she wasn’t a man. She was an outrageously sexy woman. With spunk. Ah, man, he should get away from her as soon as possible. He should have waited outside in the car. But he’d been curious. First impressions were often wrong, and he wanted to find out if she was as provocative as he’d remembered.
She was. Definitely.
His voice was abrupt when he said, “Show me where you work.”
Sophie assumed that Jack was going to sweep her cubicle, and as she was walking toward the door, she asked Alec to please call Gil and let him know she didn’t need him to come to her office.
“All right,” he agreed. “And while I’m doing that, I want you to pack up whatever you’ll need from your office for the next week or two. You’re going to be working from home. You know the drill.”
“I am not going to stay home.”
“Yeah, you are,” Jack told her. He gave her a gentle push to get her moving.
His abruptness bordered on rudeness. Sophie thought about telling him to stay out of the discussion, but because he was Alec’s new partner, she kept silent. There was also the possibility that he might not take criticism well and decide to take her in for one of those lovely interviews.
Alec wouldn’t let him do that, but even so, why cause friction?
Bitterman stopped any further protests. “You have two articles to research, and you can do that from home. You’ve got a computer there and an Internet connection. You don’t need anything else.”
Sophie wished she could get Alec alone and ask him why he was wasting his time over a couple of heat-of-the-moment threats. He wasn’t a rookie, so why was he given this assignment?
Or had he even been given this assignment?
“Mr. Bitterman, did you call the FBI, or did you call Alec?”
“Alec is FBI,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but—”
“I did some snooping,” her boss admitted sheepishly. “I looked through your address book and found his number.”
“Get moving, Sophie,” Alec said.
“Yes, all right. In a second. Was there more than one threat?” she asked her boss. “Whenever my father is in the news, there are always two or three threats at the very least. Agent MacAlister, if you push me one more time, I’m going to have to push you right back.”
She didn’t turn around when she made the threat. Jack grinned. Sophie was turning out to be far more stubborn than he’d been told. He decided he would leave it to Alec to get her to cooperate.
“Yes, there’s been more than one threat,” Bitterman said. “So far I’ve gotten three. The message was always the same. Your father took something of value from them, so they’re going to take something of value from him. Meaning you,” he added. He looked at Alec as he continued. “A couple of the callers used the same word: retribution. That was kind of odd, I thought. Real muffled voices, too, and all of them used the words ‘we’ and ‘them.’ That was odd, too, don’t you think?”
“Why would they call you?” Sophie asked.
“I guess the callers figured I’d make you give up your father.”
“Sounds like the threats came from the same men,” Alec remarked.
“A buddy at the phone company checked the source of the incoming calls,” Bitterman said. “They were made from public phones around town.”
“How long has there been a price on Bobby Rose’s head?” Jack asked.
Sophie whirled around. “What? There’s a price …”
“The attorneys at the press conference said they’d put up a reward for information leading to an arrest and conviction of your father.”
“Conviction for what?”
“Stealing Kelly’s company retirement fund?” Bitterman suggested.
“So he’s guilty until proven innocent? Is that how the system works?” Sophie blurted.
“Do you think the reward is why the office was bugged?” Bitter-man asked.
“Sure,” Jack said. “Think about it. This is a small neighborhood newspaper. How many enemies can you make writing articles about the pollen count? I know that sounds insulting, and I don’t mean it that way, sir. I’m just saying, you don’t tackle heavy political issues or—”
Bitterman waved his hand. “I get what you’re saying, and I’m not taking offense. We are a small paper.”
“But growing,” Sophie said defensively. “And some people want to read about the pollen count.”
“A lot of people know Bobby’s daughter works here,” Alec pointed out. “Maybe they’re thinking she’ll talk to him on the phone or talk about him to you, sir.”
“I want to find out exactly who’s listening in on my conversations,” Bitterman said. “There could be more of those things, couldn’t there?” he added, pointing to the bug Alec held in his hand. “And what about the phones? Do you think the phones are tapped? Damn it all, I want to know who’s behind this.”
“We’ll get some techs in here—” Jack began.
“No, no,” Bitterman interrupted. “I don’t want this to get out yet, not until we find out who the culprit is.”
Before Alec could point out the obvious, that bugging an office was an illegal activity, Sophie said, “What about Gil? He’s a retired police officer, Mr. Bitterman, and he does consulting work now. His specialty is security and finding bugs. He’d be perfect for this job.”
“Sure, Gil could help,” Alec agreed. “You’ll have to pay him, but his fee is reasonable.”
“I’ll pay anything,” Bitterman said. “Wait, I didn’t mean that. Don’t tell Gil I’ll pay anything. Could you get him on the phone now and ask him to get over here as soon as possible?”
“Come on, Sophie, let’s get going,” Jack said.
She led the way to her cubicle, then stood in the narrow corridor to wait while Jack searched for listening devices. He found one identical to the one in Bitterman’s office. It had also been attached next to the electrical plate.
Gary came out of the lunch room eating a jam-filled croissant. He spotted Sophie and scurried over to her.
“Why are you standing in the hall?”
He didn’t give her time to answer. He saw Jack sitting at her desk going through the drawers. “What’s that man doing?” he asked with a mouth full of food. He saw the gun holstered to Jack’s side. “Hey, he’s got a gun.”
&nbs
p; “He’s FBI,” she said.
“He’s not dressed like FBI.”
Jack was wearing a pair of worn jeans and a faded burgundy T-shirt.
“It’s casual Friday,” she said with a straight face.
Gary went into his cubicle and continued to watch Jack. “Wait a minute. It’s Monday.”
“It’s casual Monday,” she said without missing a beat.
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s searching my office.”
“He better not try to search my cubicle. My space is private, and no one is coming in here without a search warrant,” he blustered. “You’re supposed to be a reporter, Sophie. You should feel the same way I do. If I were you, I’d tell him to go—”
Jack suddenly stood, towering over Gary. His gaze was piercing. “What would you tell me?”
Gary shrunk before her eyes. He backed into the corner of his cubicle as he said, “Nothing. I didn’t mean … never mind.”
Jack stepped into the corridor so Sophie could get to her desk. It only took her a few minutes to transfer several files by e-mail to her home computer. She turned off her computer and stuffed two fat folders into her tote bag along with a book and a stack of papers she needed to go through. She pulled her purse from the bottom desk drawer, picked up her cell phone and charger, then looked around to make certain she had everything she needed.
Gary’s curiosity overrode his fear of Jack. “Are you under arrest?” he asked Sophie. “What did you do? Did you help your father? That’s it, isn’t it? Is it Kelly’s? Did you help your father rip off the retirement fund?”
Sophie was used to Gary’s stupidity, but she couldn’t resist feeding his frenzy.
“I’m ready, Agent. Are you going to put the handcuffs on me now or when we’re in the elevator?”
“In the elevator,” he answered without hesitation. “Just don’t try anything funny.”
She kept her head down, pretending shame. Jack motioned to Alec as he followed her to the elevator.
The farther away Jack got, the bolder Gary became. “She knows where her father is,” he shouted. “She just won’t tell. That’s why you’re taking her in, isn’t it?”
Fire and Ice Page 7