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Chasing Glory

Page 22

by Galbraith, DeeAnna


  The spring sun glinted off her hair as it had in his bed when they’d made love this morning. Tal would never get past wanting her and knowing she wanted him. He smiled. Thank God his plan to win Alyssia had failed.

  • •

  Tal found himself blinking when Glory came down from her bedroom. She was dressed so un-Glory-like in a skimpy black t-shirt over very tight black jeans that it caught him off guard. She teetered in tall, sparkly black sandals.

  He tried for a neutral expression, but she caught him.

  “Catherine’s Halloween costume from last year,” she said. “She came as The Woman in Black. A female counterpart to Johnny Cash. She gave it to me as a white-elephant Christmas gift.”

  “It’s interesting,” Tal said, carefully.

  She gave him a look of supreme patience. “This is part of my idea.”

  “That’s a relief,” he said, black now one of his new favorite colors. “What’s the idea?”

  She pulled a large grey sweatshirt over her outfit. The hem fell below her hips. “If there’s a guy behind the counter at the mailbox place, this would be a distraction while I grill him for information.”

  Tal wasn’t sure he liked the idea of some guy ogling Glory, but she looked determined. “An interesting approach. Don’t you need Ethel for this caper, Lucy?”

  Her chin jutted. “I didn’t make fun of your plans in Antigua. Besides, you saw how I handled Rudy.”

  He’d almost forgotten what a turn-on that had been. “No doubts here,” he said, fingers spread, palms against his chest. “I’m afraid to ask, but what if the clerk’s a female?”

  An angelic smile appeared below a devilish glint in her eyes. “That’s where you come in.”

  Tal didn’t like the sound of that. “Can’t we just go and ask, like normal people?”

  He saw her protest coming and pushed his point. “Going over there could screw up the police’s case. If our hunch is right and there is a connection between Jeff Lassiter and A. J. Lashar, this gabby clerk you’re hoping will blab all could also tell the involved person that someone’s been asking questions.”

  Glory started to pace. “Then our whole exercise may be moot. Especially if they’ve started a local investigation.”

  “They haven’t,” Tal said. “I talked to the State Attorney General’s office yesterday and they said they were still in the process of trading information and cutting red tape.”

  She stopped and tapped her finger against her lips, an action that brought Tal a step closer, but Glory was oblivious.

  “When two governments are involved, the tape is cut lengthwise. By the time all the legalities are observed, the person or persons here will either be long gone or have covered his or her tracks.” A glimmer settled in her eyes. “They may have already started.”

  She was right.

  “What the hell, then,” he said. “Let’s do it. I’ve worked too hard to put this company together to sit and wait for somebody else to save the pieces.”

  Glory swung in front of him and gave him a swift, hard kiss, her eyes sparkling. “To our success.”

  • •

  For all her bragging, by the time they reached the parking lot outside the store, Glory was nervous. They could see the clerk through the window. Definitely male.

  They waited until the store was empty before she pulled the sweatshirt off, then started chewing a stick of gum, and went in. As she got closer, Glory realized he was only about nineteen. Thin and angular, he sported a meager soul patch and a shiny ear plug, but only in one ear, making Glory wonder how lopsided his face looked when he removed it.

  His jaw actually dropped when she approached. Maybe her idea wasn’t so dumb after all.

  “Are you the man in charge?” she asked, twirling a piece of hair by her face.

  He made a gurgling sound and his gaze locked on her chest, but he nodded.

  Glory turned on the same predatory smile she’d used on Rudy. “You seem like a nice guy, and I’ve got this problem. Maybe you can help.”

  Another noise of assent.

  “Well, see, my sister’s boyfriend has a mailbox here and she’s supposed to pick up his mail while he’s out of town, but he forgot to leave her the key.” She took a deep breath, stretching the already imperiled t-shirt. “Anyway, she’s got a cold and asked me to come do it for her.”

  He blinked rapidly. “Do it?”

  “Yes. Ask for his mail.”

  To his credit, the boy drew back his shoulders. “Can’t do that. I have to keep our customers’ privacy.”

  Glory stuck out her lower lip, then brightened. “I have the box number. It’s 247. Does that help? I mean if I was a crook or something, I wouldn’t know his number.”

  A frown creased the clerk’s forehead. “I don’t even know most of the people who come in here. What’s her boyfriend’s name? What’s he look like?”

  Glory smiled until her face hurt. “That’s smart to ask. His name’s Jeff and he’s a little over six feet with medium brown hair and brown eyes. His hair cut is really conservative and his clothes are really expensive.”

  The boy’s face cleared. “Yeah that sounds like him. I guess the J. could stand for Jeff. If you don’t mind my saying so, it could also stand for Jerk.”

  She popped her gum. “No skin off my nose.”

  The clerk shrugged. “You probably do know him and all, but I still can’t let you have the contents of the box.” He cocked his head. “You don’t look anything like your sister, though. I guess she’s okay if you’re into the pale, skinny, blonde thing.”

  Pale, skinny, blonde? “Um, we’re stepsisters,” Glory managed. “I didn’t know she’d come in before.”

  He looked up and to his right, an expression of distaste on his face. “She was in here a couple of days in a row last month, all torqued that some foreign letter hadn’t come in yet. Like I have any control over that.”

  Glory backed toward the door. “Hey, thanks anyway. You’ve been a big help.”

  He grinned. “Cool.”

  She got into Tal’s car, then fumbled to get the tall shoes off, not sure how to tell him everything she’d learned.

  Tal chuckled. “I felt the pulse of his hormones from here.” He kissed the crook of her neck noisily. “Luckily, I got here first.”

  Glory sat up and rubbed her arms. “He confirmed that my description of Jeff Lassiter was probably A. J. Lashar.” She took Tal’s hand. “I think I found out something else about A. J. Lashar.”

  He rubbed her fingers. “The A. is for Alyssia and the J. is for Jeff. Lashar is the first three letters if their last names. Is that it?”

  She nodded, only mildly surprised he’d figured it out. “When did you guess?”

  “I figured that might be it on our way over to your place this morning. Neither Alyssia nor Jeff has much of an imagination. And neither counted on us getting a letter of complaint and investigating.”

  “So, what’s next?” she asked.

  He pulled her in for a kiss. “Shopping at the Metropolitan Market in lower Queen Anne, then back to my place to strategize.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Is strategizing the only goal?”

  • •

  Tal followed her home mid-day on Sunday. They had been together non-stop since Friday evening. She smiled. So much for getting some painting done this weekend. He made coffee while she changed clothes, then they both got comfortable on the couch. “You sure you have to do laundry and shop for food?” he asked.

  She sipped her coffee, happy that he felt so at home in her house. “Yes, and you probably need to at least do laundry. Um, we talked over options for helping get solid information to give to the police, but …”

  “But we never discussed what we’re going to do about us and the office,” he finished for her, putting down his cup.

  Glory nodded.

  “I think we should keep our relationship under wraps until this whole mess with the bootleggers is cleared up.”

 
Glory swallowed back fear on a stomach that churned with acid. “What does one have to do with the other?”

  Tal took her hand. “Whoever’s set this up has invested a lot and right now I’m the logical target for their anger. I don’t want them to know how much you mean to me. How much they could hurt me by hurting you. Understand?”

  She did, and until he said it out loud, hadn’t thought of danger so much as how pissed off the instigators would be. Now, protecting their investment took on a more sinister meaning.

  He squeezed her fingers. “Glory?”

  “I never thought of the kinds of thugs we saw there being a possibility here, too,” she said, trying to calm trembling lips. “Do you think they really might try to hurt you?”

  His smile relaxed the knot that had grown in her chest. “Probably not. I can’t imagine Jeff or Alyssia resorting to brute force. I’m not so confident about their counterparts in Antigua.”

  Tal took her cup, set it on the coffee table, and pulled her into a hug. “The plan is to not let it get that far. When this is all over, though, I’m going to send out an all-employee bulletin announcing how crazy I am about you. Until then, are you okay about us just acting like co-workers?”

  It was a hard thing to agree to, but practical under the circumstances. “How about an occasional kiss in the elevator or your office when we have them to ourselves?” she asked.

  In answer, he held up his watch and wiggled his eyebrows. “How do you feel about supply closets at ten hundred hours?”

  Glory kissed him hard. “I’m shocked and appalled that you would suggest such a thing. Now, go home. I’m worn out.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Tal had nothing. He tapped the edge of his desk then slanted his wrist to look at his watch. Less than a half-hour until the meeting he’d called would start. He’d hoped to present some concrete, if not incriminating, information. Up until five minutes ago when he’d received a call from the State Attorney General’s office that blew him out of the water. According to the caller, O’Mara had produced a contract granting him manufacturing and distribution rights for Kingston products.

  He swore all business transactions had been done by phone, mail, or email; he’d never met A. J. Lashar and was aghast and angry when presented with allegations that the operation on Antigua was illegal. He claimed he had a large amount of money invested. Although they were still taking statements, O’Mara was temporarily enjoined against further production and all inventory confiscated pending the investigation’s outcome.

  Tal had one slim course of action and he was taking notes when someone tapped lightly on his door.

  “Come in.”

  Glory stepped through the doorway. “Got a minute?”

  He dropped his pencil. She looked sexy as hell in a navy blue suit and a peach-colored blouse that looked soft to the touch. “All the minutes you want.”

  She smiled. “I came down to wish you luck in the meeting.”

  He stepped around his desk and closed the door behind her. The kiss started soft, and Tal immediately wanted to deepen it, his control wavering. He pushed back. “I need to shake up a few people, then we need to talk.”

  Glory cleared her throat, her gaze a little unfocused. “That was nice. Um, let me know how it went, tonight?”

  “Okay,” he said distractedly, as he watched her blush; knowing from experience that it started at the tops of her breasts and climbed to her face.

  “You want to go first?” she asked.

  “Deal.” He picked up his notes and kissed the tip of her nose before leaving.

  • •

  Catherine winked at Tal as he strode toward the conference room. He stopped.

  “You still here?”

  She grinned. “Got a stay of execution. Shelly told me this morning.”

  He gave her a thumbs-up and walked into the meeting. All undercurrents of conversation died. Besides his brother, Alyssia, and Jeff Lassiter, two other officers were present, the vice presidents for procurement and operations.

  William stood. “Tal has some news about the illegal reproduction and sale of our products in a country where we have no license to export. This information is to stay in this room until further notice. Tal?”

  The only people in the room who showed little surprise at William’s statement were Alyssia and Jeff.

  Tal glanced around the table. “About a month ago, we received a letter from a woman complaining about the poor quality of our products at a resort in Antigua. In a follow-up letter she included the jar label. It was close, but not ours. I went to Antigua to look for something that would lead to the bootleggers. With some luck, I found a connection; the procurement manager of one of the hotels selling the product.”

  The VP of Procurement raised his hand. “So, is it over? Their operation is under lock and key, end of story?”

  Tal phrased his response carefully. “The immediate threat is over, but they’re still investigating and a great deal of damage has been done. Odds are someone here at Kingston initiated the scheme. I want to focus on that.”

  Angry red flagged Jeff Lassiter’s cheeks, the pen between his thumb and forefinger, flipping. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘someone here,’ but that’s a little overkill, don’t you think? This man in Antigua got the idea, you found out, and that should be the end of it. Besides, the attempt sounds short term; hit and run.”

  “Speaking as CFO, then,” Tal said, masking his anger at the man he knew took advantage of his position to cheat the company that trusted him. “And not knowing the extent of the damage, you don’t believe this will hurt our bottom line?”

  “Absolutely not. Except for the free vacation you got, there shouldn’t even be even a dent.”

  Encouraged by a few chuckles, Jeff continued. “I wouldn’t recommend budgeting any money to pursue this. We should consider ourselves lucky and cut our losses.”

  “I agree with Jeff,” Alyssia said. “A few sunburned tourists not used to the spicy island food and who think the fruit sauce is too bitter are inconsequential. If this were on the same scale as the bootlegging Microsoft or the entertainment industry suffers, I’d say continue, but it’s not.”

  “That’s true,” said Tal. “But consider the revenue loss due to the negative experiences of those unhappy tourists. Not all of them will write letters of complaint, but the ripple effect will kick in. Remember the alleged hypodermic needle in the soft drink can, or the E.coli bacteria infecting those children because of tainted meat in that fast food chain? Both those companies had their hands full with lawsuits, FDA inspectors, and public distrust for several years.

  “My point is; the hundreds or maybe thousands of people who can afford to travel to the Caribbean and stay in one of the expensive resorts where the fake product was sold or used in the restaurants, fall into the demographics we target. They will not only not buy Kingston products stateside after tasting the poor counterfeits, but will likely spread the word to friends and relatives.”

  The CFO frowned. “Overly dramatic. This little blip never even hit the news media.”

  “True,” Tal said, already tired of Jeff’s snarky retorts. “But if it had continued, the unsanitary production and storage methods I saw would have eventually made someone seriously ill. So, we were lucky.” He pointedly fixed his gaze on Jeff. “What I can’t understand is the reluctance to go after whoever instigated this operation. If not in our own interests, then in the interests of the next unsuspecting small company that could be ruined.”

  “What are you proposing?” asked Alyssia. “And how much will it cost?”

  Tal saw, that, except for Jeff’s attempt’s to sweep the whole issue aside, the rest of the officers were listening. He shrugged. “In revenue, money that was in the five-year plan anyway. Get our export license for that area and sell the hotels on the idea that the real product will make for much happier tourists. If we can accomplish that within six months, I’d say we won.”

  Alyssia gave a small
nod.

  “As for going after the person or persons in this country, and possibly this company,” he paused, letting his gaze touch everyone at the table. “The State Attorney General’s office and local police have some leads. It could take some time, but I think we should not only help if we can, but prosecute to the fullest extent.”

  Jeff Lassiter’s pen looked like a propeller about to take flight. “There’s no way we can get an export license that quickly. And I think the prosecution issue should be voted on.”

  Tal straightened his notes. “The Antiguan government is anxious to keep its quota of well-to-do American tourists. Their governor general is embarrassed that a resident of theirs has been implicated in a counterfeiting scam and he has already agreed to expedite our license request. I’ve also passed the prosecution issue, as you call it, by our holding company. The owners agree with me.”

  The angry red on Jeff’s face drained to a chalky white. “So, the working officers of Kingston Limited have no say in this, this crusade of yours? Why are you so set on it anyway?”

  “Mostly because I’ve yet to hear any valid reason why I shouldn’t be,” Tal said. “Also, there’s less likelihood that there will be a next time if we don’t present ourselves as an easy target this time. Just common sense.”

  Alyssia tapped her pen on the table. “This sounds very ambitious, but all we’ve heard are phrases like odds are and some leads. You haven’t mentioned any real evidence.” She smiled “Will the officers be told if you do?”

  Tal’s confidence slid a notch. She was right, but IT and Security had pulled dozens of files and he was confident they were zeroing in on that evidence. “When,” he said. “When I do.”

  Alyssia glanced at the CFO and sat back.

  Jeff Lassiter stood. “Is this over?”

  Tal nodded and met the CFO’s gaze until he turned away.

  William and Alyssia waited until Jeff and the others left. Tal’s brother asked to speak to him in his office.

 

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