by Dianne Emley
T. Duke leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and softened his voice, as if to gently deliver bad news. “You can’t ignore the effect of Bridget Cross’s murder and Kip Cross’s arrest on the market. They were Pandora’s guiding lights. Talented people, both. Shame.” He shook his head sorrowfully, the fluorescent lights causing his large nose to cast a long shadow onto his upper lip. “Without the Crosses, I don’t see Pandora surviving on its own.” He frowned sympathetically, as if he hated having to speak so boldly, but his rat’s eyes shone.
“Kip hasn’t been charged with murder. He may be set free today.”
T. Duke exchanged a long glance with Baines, then said quickly, “If he is, there’s something seriously wrong with this country. Seriously wrong. But let’s set aside Pandora’s leadership issues. What about their finances? That’s a whole other kettle of fish. Funds were misspent left and right. They increased their overhead before they saw an increase in revenue. Think of the legal bills Kip Cross is running up.” He grimaced. “It galls me to think that money I invested through USA Assets has gone to pay Kip’s attorney. You’re responsible for that, aren’t you? You sign the checks now.”
Iris figured he expected her to justify her actions or apologize. She just looked at him without emotion and tried to avoid looking at Baines, who was studying her with his blue eyes, as he had been since he arrived.
After a few seconds, when it became clear that Iris wasn’t going to respond, T. Duke continued in his folksy twang, “The point I’m trying to make is, Pandora looks like a bad risk to any savvy investor. And perception rules the market.”
“I have a plan in place to address that.”
“You do?”
She nodded cryptically.
“Well, okay, say you do. Say you manage to make Pandora look sexy to the marketplace. You still have to get an IPO approved by the SEC. Are you certain Pandora is squeaky-clean?” T. Duke sliced his hand through the air as if the issue were black-and-white, on one side or the other. “No questionable activities on the part of its board of directors? I’m not talking about just their activities as concerns Pandora, but outside the firm as well. Your job here, for example. It’s an environment that’s ripe for fraud.”
“There are no fraudulent activities going on in my office,” Iris said sharply. “And all Pandora’s operations are on the up-and-up.”
“I don’t mean to offend you, Iris, but you have been involved with some questionable business dealings in the past which may not stand up to scrutiny.”
Iris’s face grew hot and she knew she was glowing red. “What specifically are you referring to?” He was right. She had been involved in a few situations and with a few people that weren’t exactly kosher. Some of these incidents were well-known; some she hoped to take to her grave. Which was he talking about? She wondered just how much someone with T. Duke’s resources could find out about a person. A lot, she concluded. The thought that she might be forced to be T. Duke’s pawn and forgo her plan for Pandora because of something in her past sickened her.
T. Duke raised a cautioning hand. “Now, I’m the last person to throw stones. Everyone knows my past is far from untainted. I’m simply offering you advice as a friend. Part of my job as an investor in small companies is to make the entrepreneurs stand naked in front of a mirror.” He paused and leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “You have to take an honest look at yourself and your firm.”
Iris took a deep breath, leaned back in her chair, and crossed her legs. “I guess the question is, if Pandora doesn’t go public, where does it go?”
He pointed at her. “I’m glad you asked me that. My offer is still on the table to buy Pandora outright.” He drew a half circle in the air with his hands as he outlined his grand vision, concluding by holding up both rounded palms as if he cradled the world between them. “I see Pandora as a key player in my concept to create a network of companies that will work in concert to create a new digital marketplace, leading the consumer from shopping for a product on TV to a vendor’s ad to an online store, with the Sawyer Company collecting a fee at every stop.” He squirmed in his chair as if it had grown too small to contain him.
“T. Duke, I’ve expressed my confusion about this before,” Iris began. “Due to your recent buying spree, the Sawyer Company is over two billion dollars in debt, more than twice its equity level. If interest rates go up, you come crashing down. Why assume more debt by buying Pandora, a company with numerous problems, many of which you’ve outlined? It seems as if you have bigger fish to fry.”
T. Duke responded, “And as I expressed before: synergy.”
“You can license software to distribute, you don’t need to home-grow it. You’re critical of the violent and sexual content in Pandora’s games anyway. Why not take over a firm whose vision is more in line with your own? Why did you approach Pandora with investment money in the first place?”
“That’s very simple. I’m like Wayne Gretzky. I go where the puck’s going to be. When I see a company with promise and that’s on the cutting edge, I pounce.” He stood and walked to a window, the block heels of his cowboy boots leaving indentations in the carpet. He turned to face her and did not speak. It was her ball.
“I assume your purchase offer of seven dollars a share stills stands.”
T. Duke looked at her with surprise. “Why, no. How could it, in view of recent events? It’s been adjusted accordingly. Five dollars a share.”
Iris gaped at him. “Seven was too low. Now it’s five?”
“The marketplace is a fickle thing, as I know you’re well aware.”
Iris abruptly slapped her hand against her desk. “That settles it. I’ll let the market decide how much Pandora is worth.”
“This may be the best offer you’ll get. I may not be able to hold the price at five dollars.”
“I’m not giving Pandora away.”
“Pandora’s management may have something to say about your cavalier decision. They’re very keen on my proposition. I guaranteed all of them comparable jobs within the Sawyer Company.”
“And they believed you?”
“They’re good people,” T. Duke said defiantly.
“So were all the others you threw out of jobs in all the other firms you took over and dismantled.”
“I resent that comment.”
“Duly noted.”
“I invited Today, Mick, and Toni to my ranch in Santa Ynez this weekend to discuss Pandora. I’d like to extend the same invitation to you.”
“I’ll have to check my calendar and get back to you.”
“It would be nice if you came. You can bring a friend or significant other, if you like. Today and Mick are bringing their wives.”
“It does sound nice. Let me get back to you.” The meeting was winding down. She decided to pick on Baines while she had the chance. He was sitting like a stone lion with his hands resting on his knees. “What’s your opinion of all this, Baines?”
“My opinion is not relevant, ma’am.”
“I see.”
T. Duke raised his index finger. “I have a question, Miss Thorne.”
“T. Duke, why the formality? Aren’t we friends anymore?”
He ignored her comment. “You’re a busy woman. I thought you would have jumped at the opportunity to unload your responsibility in Pandora. Why complicate your life with an IPO?”
“Because Bridget Cross trusted me to make the right decisions for her daughter’s sake. I want one thing to be perfectly clear. If anyone wants to get their hands on Pandora, they have to get past me.”
“So you’re letting personal issues cloud your business judgment?”
“And you don’t? I can’t believe your quest to control Pandora has anything to do with synergies or digital marketplaces or any of that mumbo jumbo. You’re involved for a personal reason.”
“It’s true I want to control Pandora, but I have no dark motives. I’m an investor, Iris. My sole raison d’être is to make money.” He pronounced t
he French with a Texan accent. “I believe there’s a lot of money to be made with Pandora, and I don’t think you’re the person who can make it.”
She straightened in her chair. “Okay. I’ll give you a chance to make some money on Pandora right now. I’ll buy out your twenty percent stake at six dollars a share.”
He shook his head. “No deal.”
“How about eight dollars?”
He again shook his head.
“Eleven? Twelve? C’mon T. Duke, everyone has his price.” She picked up a pencil and tapped it against the desk.
“This is a foolish game. Everyone knows Pandora doesn’t have money like that.”
“I can get the money and you know it. You won’t get out of Pandora for any price. Your interest in Pandora is not about money and it never was. Why don’t you save me a lot of time and just tell me what it is? I’m going to find out, you know. I’m very tenacious.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“You realize that Kip thinks you’re behind Bridget’s murder and that you set him up to take the fall for it.”
T. Duke laughed and looked at Baines to share the joke. The other man gave into a small smile. “Baines is a much better shot than whoever it was that brought poor Bridget down. I certainly wouldn’t hire anybody who couldn’t shoot.”
“Whoever murdered Bridget may have intentionally made it look like they couldn’t shoot. Kip isn’t skilled with guns.”
T. Duke was still laughing. He shook his head. “You tickle me, Iris. I’m amused by this dark plot you’re suggesting. You have quite an imagination.”
The three of them looked at Louise, who had urgently stepped into the doorway. “There’s just been a news report. Kip Cross was released from prison.”
Iris slowly rose from her chair.
“Son of a bitch,” T. Duke spat.
Baines gave T. Duke a troubled look.
“What a relief,” Iris said, not feeling completely at ease with the news. “At least Brianna will have her daddy back.”
“Apparently, Brianna’s recalled memory of seeing the murderer clinched it,” Louise said. “She insisted it wasn’t her father.”
“But the guy was wearing a mask,” T. Duke said. “How could she tell who it was?”
“The D.A. said there wasn’t enough evidence to convict Kip,” Louise said. “It was all circumstantial. And with the child’s testimony, forget it.”
Iris added, “The last thing the D.A. wants is to grill a five-year-old on the witness stand when her mother’s been murdered. It’s bound to backfire.”
“And to think my money helped get that scumbag out of jail. What the hell is this country coming to?”
Baines uttered the longest sentence he had since he’d arrived. “How much did the little girl see?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Natalie Tyler looked through the peephole and closed her eyes as if horrified by what she saw. She took a moment to compose herself before opening the front door. “Why, Kip!”
“Hi, Natalie.” He stood awkwardly on the front porch before reaching to touch her arm, realizing some physical contact was warranted.
“And…ah…hello, Summer.” Natalie uneasily extended her hand to the nanny, who was standing next to Kip.
“Hi, Mrs. Tyler.” Summer smiled demurely. She was wearing skintight, pencil-leg jeans, a short white sweater, and white lug-soled shoes. Her large breasts raised the hem of the sweater away from her body, baring her midriff.
Natalie uneasily rubbed her hands together. “So, Kip, you’re out of jail. Good for you!” She nervously patted his shoulder.
“Yeah.” He scratched his ear. “I’m here to pick up Brianna. I hope you can still keep Stetson for now. Summer doesn’t—”
Natalie quickly turned inside the open doorway and shouted, “Joe! Joe, guess who’s here.” She smiled tentatively at Kip while she cast anxious glances inside the house. “Were there a lot of reporters waiting for you?” she asked as if she hadn’t heard his comment about Brianna.
Joe Tyler shuffled to the door in worn leather slippers. His plaid shirt was not tucked in, his chinos were wrinkled, and his hair looked as if he’d forgotten to comb it. He raised his chin to peer at Kip through the bottoms of his glasses, as if to get a sharper view. “Oh?” was all he said.
“Good to see you, Joe.” Kip extended his hand.
Joe shook it briefly, then released it as if to drop something foul.
Natalie grabbed Joe’s beefy arm with both hands. “Honey, Kip wants to pick up Brianna.”
“Where is she?” Kip asked, peering inside the house. “Isn’t she here?”
“She’s taking a nap, Kip,” Natalie said. “I don’t want to wake her. She’s not sleeping too well. She has terrible nightmares.”
“We don’t think that’s such a good idea, Kip,” Joe said. “You taking Brianna.”
Kip blinked at the ground, as if trying to digest the message. Summer grabbed a corner of her silicone-puffed lips between her teeth and looked at Kip with distress. He squinted at the Tylers. “Are you trying to keep me from my daughter?”
Natalie fluttered her hands at him. “No, no, dear. No, that’s not it at all. It’s been so hard for her, hard for all of us. Certainly you can understand, Kip. We thought she’d be better off here. Just for a few more days until you get settled. I mean, all the reporters and going back to that house… And you want us to keep Stetson, because Summer doesn’t—”
“That dog always scared me,” Summer said.
“I want to see my daughter,” Kip said emphatically, taking a step toward the door.
Joe moved into his path, blocking his way with his big body. “Kip, we don’t think that’s a good idea. Be reasonable. Just give Brianna a couple of days to get used to the idea. You’re taking her back to the house where her mother was murdered, for goodness’ sake. Think of the child’s welfare for a change.”
Kip reared back, as if the words had struck him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We don’t mean any offense, Kip,” Joe continued. “You have to face facts.”
“I’m not leaving without my daughter.” Kip grabbed the older man and tried to move him out of the way.
Whether it was due to strength or will, Joe Tyler would not be moved. “Kip, calm down.” He held Kip away with his arms.
“Don’t hurt him!” Summer yelled.
Natalie scampered away from the men and cowered just inside the door, her trembling hands pressed against her mouth.
Kip backed up and tried to barrel past Joe, who lowered his shoulders like a linebacker. “Get ahold of yourself, man.” When Kip came running at him again, Joe lunged, tackling him and sending them both off the porch and onto the grass.
Natalie left the safety of the house and walked to the edge of the porch. “We buried our daughter yesterday, Kip.” Tears streamed down her face. “Have some compassion. You’re always so absorbed with yourself. You never think about how your actions affect anybody else. It’s always you, you, you!”
Joe slowly rose from the grass and dusted himself off. Kip remained where he had fallen and looked startled as he watched Natalie, who was uncharacteristically in a rage.
“You have the gall to bring her here.” Natalie angrily pointed at Summer. “She’s one of the reasons you and Bridget were having problems. Bridget made her move out. Now my daughter’s dead and she’s still there.”
“Someone had to watch the house,” Kip protested. “All the reporters and people—”
“See? See how you are? You don’t think! And this woman is still going to be Brianna’s nanny, am I right?”
“It’s better for Brianna to stay with someone she knows.” Kip finally got up from the ground. “I can’t stay with her. I have to get back to Pandora. I’m losing control over my company.”
“Brianna loves me,” Summer added in her little-girl voice. “Brianna spent more time with me than she did with Bridget. It was almost like she was my baby.”
“I have thought about this. I have,” Kip insisted to the appalled Tylers. “It’s the most logical solution.”
Joe rejoined his wife on the porch. Natalie’s tears had dried. Now she was pure fury. “I’ve never known a man who could be so brilliant and so stupid at the same time. For all the things you’re good at that have made you rich, you do not understand people. The simplest things about human relations escape you. People don’t work like computers, Kip.”
Kip ran both hands across his buzz-cut hair, then crossed his arms over his chest. He furrowed his brow, stared intently at the grass, and began gently pulling the hair of one of his eyebrows between his fingers over and over. Summer approached and raised her hand as if to touch him, hesitated, then dropped it by her side.
Finally, Kip looked up and said, “Okay. Brianna can stay here for a few more days, but that’s it. Don’t get any ideas about keeping her. I was always a good father. You can’t fault me for that. Okay, I’ve made mistakes—I’m the first to admit it. But I don’t think I’m making one now. I don’t like the way everyone’s treating me.”
“You should have thought of that before you…” Joe couldn’t finish the sentence.
Kip glared at his father-in-law. His chest and arms grew rigid. A deep flush moved up his face. The veins on his neck swelled. He clenched his fists. “I did not murder my wife!” He took a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself, opened his hands, and repeated more plaintively, “I did not murder my wife.”
Natalie and Joe clutched each other on the porch as they watched Kip walk away while Summer soothingly rubbed his back and murmured into his ear. They got in Kip’s Ferrari and drove off.
Toni and Iris were in Pandora’s employee lunchroom. Toni opened the refrigerator door. It was stocked with premium bottled water, fresh fruit, jars of flavored iced teas, and a variety of soft drinks. “These are all free to the employees. And we sell the sandwiches, yogurt and other stuff”—she indicated two food-vending machines against the wall—“at cost.”