by Dee Davis
Gabriel sat back, waiting, realizing there was more.
"About eighteen months ago, Andy tried to kill himself.
At first his father thought it was an accidental overdose, but it soon became apparent that it had been intentional. Martha and Thomas are old friends." He shrugged as if that explained everything.
"So they came to you for help."
Cullen nodded, still fingering the thread. "Martha actually. She thought that if Andy had a reason to get up in the morning—if he honestly believed his life mattered—he wouldn't try again. She knew we were working on the deal with China. Had Andy been well, he would have indeed been an asset to the team. So we concocted a plan to make him believe he was handling parts of the negotiation. The written work primarily."
"But he couldn't have been contributing anything helpful."
Cullen ran a hand through his hair, the gesture uncharacteristic. "You'd be surprised, actually. The talent and knowledge was still there, but unfortunately it came out a bit on the garbled side. Bing and I fixed it. At times even rewrote it, but let the credit stay with Andy. It seemed harmless at the time. But now, I feel like I dragged him into the quagmire. Caused his death, even."
"You couldn't have known this was going to happen." Gabe studied Cullen, surprised to find that he believed him. It made sense in a convoluted kind of way. And besides, the story could easily be checked. "What about Thomas? Did he go along with the idea?"
"No. He thought I was taking advantage of his son."
"But surely with Martha involved..." Gabe frowned, trying to understand the dynamics between the three of them.
"I didn't tell him she came to me. He thought it was all my idea. It was easier that way."
"For who? Martha?"
"Everyone, really." Cullen shrugged. "Thomas and I had a falling-out a while back over a business endeavor. We've remained cordial, but he doesn't trust me."
"Vrycom?" The name seemed to hang in the air, and Cullen's eyes widened.
"I'm surprised you've heard of it." Whatever surprise there'd been at the question was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by a mask of polite indifference.
"Harrison stumbled across it, actually. He was trying to find a connection among the dead."
"But none of them had anything to do with Vrycom."
"Come on, Cullen, you're more on the ball than that. What do you say we cut the games?"
"I'm not sure I'm following." The words were cold. "But if you're referring to the fact that some of their fathers sat on the Vrycom board with me, I'm more than aware of it. But I don't see how it could possibly have anything to do with the murders."
"More than a few, Cullen. Eight of nine." Gabe frowned. "And we're not sure if there's a connection, but you've got to admit it's a hell of a coincidence. What do you know about Bluemax?"
It was Cullen's turn to frown, this time with an obvious effort to remember. "It was a company we wanted to buy out. They had some patents we needed. Small-time business, but they weren't interested in anything Vrycom had to offer. So things got ugly." He shrugged. "That's what Vrycom was for."
"What about the lawsuit?"
"A minor annoyance. They had no chance of winning. It was just a matter of time. As I recall, the case was dismissed, the takeover was accomplished, and we dismantled the company and used the patents. Sounds a bit harsh in the telling, but it was just business. And Bluemax was hardly the biggest fish we took on."
"Until the SEC stepped in." Gabe shifted in his chair, watching Cullen, listening, hoping for something that might tie into the murders.
"Again, it was standard operating procedure. They didn't really have a case, but it wasn't the kind of publicity any of us wanted, so we abandoned the company. It had quite obviously outgrown its usefulness and so we all went our separate ways."
"Considerably better off, I'd imagine."
"Of course." Cullen looked surprised at the question. "That was the whole point of the endeavor."
"And you can't think of anything that would link your activities there with the murders?"
"None that are stronger than the potential failure of the accord. Besides, as you've already noted, Jeremy's death breaks the pattern."
"There are still a lot of anomalies surrounding your behavior, Cullen. We'd be crazy not to suspect you're guilty of something."
"Does Madison agree?" It was a personal question, and it was Gabe's turn for surprise.
"She doesn't want to." He saw no point in not being honest "But it's hard to deny the coincidences. There's the fact that you told Alan Stewart's wife not to authorize an autopsy. And the fact that you were pretending that Anderson McGee was doing work that he wasn't. There's also the odd connection between you and the murder victims' fathers. And you're responsible for bringing me into this and you knew damn well I'd bring Nigel. And you can't tell me that you hadn't considered the possibility that it might be a conflict of interest for him."
"Of course I thought of it, but I thought you'd keep him in line."
"Well, you obviously thought wrong." Unwanted bitterness filled his throat.
"In any case—" Cullen dismissed Gabe's discomfort with the wave of his hand "—there's nothing in what you've listed that hasn't been explained. And more importantly, there's no logical link between them."
"Except the very real possibility that you want the accord to fail."
Cullen tipped back his head and started to laugh. Not with the maniacal laughter of someone caught out, but with the genuine amusement of something found funny. "Oh, my dear boy, you're on the wrong track, believe me."
"I want to," Gabe said, frowning at the sudden turn of emotion.
Cullen dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief, sobering. "If anything, Gabriel, my financial life, no, my very corporate existence, depends upon the accord's success."
"That's easy enough to say," Gabriel prodded, but he was beginning to feel certain they were barking up the wrong tree.
"But it's true." Cullen got up to walk around behind his desk. "And I can prove it." With a sigh, he unlocked a small drawer and removed a file, tossing it onto the desk. "When the dot-com industry went belly-up, I lost a hell of a lot of money. On paper, I still looked good because I had the common sense to use dummy corporations for my transactions, but the financial hit couldn't be ignored. I managed to stay afloat, barely. But I can't do it indefinitely, and even with the economy on the rebound, it's not happening fast enough for me to cover my losses. So I'm in trouble." He pushed the file toward Gabe. "Real trouble."
Gabe picked it up and thumbed through the papers it held, skimming the documents. They were primarily financial in nature. IRS proceedings, notes overdue and foreclosure notices. If these were the real thing, Cullen was on the brink of financial disaster.
"They're genuine," he said, correctly reading Gabe's thoughts. "But no one knows about them. Except the banks of course, and the government. And if the accord fails, I'll be down for the count, and believe me, there are any number of vultures out there who'll be quite happy to pick my bones."
"And if you go down, the president's bankroll is gone." It explained a lot.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Cullen gave him a wan smile. "But the president can survive losing me. However, it'd obviously be better if one of his chief contributors stays out of the tabloids."
"Who else knows about this?"
"I told Madison's father. He's been a good friend. And I think Jeremy had an idea what was going on. What Jeremy knew, Kingston was most likely privy to, but other than that, no one."
"You're certain?"
"I can't be certain of anything. But I've certainly tried to keep it all under wraps. If the Chinese got wind of it, it certainly wouldn't help the negotiations." He sighed. "Anyway, the point of telling you was to clear the air. To let you know once and for all that I am not behind any effort to stall the accord. There is nothing on earth that would make me do that. It would be like signing my own death warrant, and believe me
, I'm not that kind of man."
There was absolute truth in that, but Gabe also knew that somewhere in all the rhetoric there was a clue to what was happening and why. They just had to find it. "There's still got to be a connection between Vrycom and the current accord. Or at least the fathers and their children. Maybe Jeremy was the link?"
Cullen shook his head, frowning. "I don't see how. I mean, the man had nothing to do with Vrycom. I didn't even know him at that time. If there's a connection it's something really obscure."
"Well, someone is killing your colleagues, Cullen. We're not imagining that. Candace Patterson received a call from here the night she died, and someone knew that we were mistakenly zeroing in on Ernhardt Schmidt. The only way either of those things could have happened is if someone on the inside is behind all of this. And if it isn't you, Cullen, I'm betting it's someone you know."
*****
"IT ISN'T CULLEN," Gabe announced to no one in particular, striding into the operations room.
"You're sure?" Harrison asked, looking up from his ever-present laptop.
"Positive. The man's in debt up to his ass. If the accord goes down, he goes with it."
"Any chance he fed you a load of bull?" Payton asked. "It wouldn't be the first time."
"No." Gabe shook his head. "I've seen proof. He's leveraged to the hilt. If this thing falls apart, there isn't going to be much left of Dreamscape."
"So he's on the level." Harrison frowned. "Where does that leave us?"
"I don't know." Gabe dropped down into a chair, running a hand through his hair. "Any word from Madison?"
"She called a little while ago to say that she was stuck in traffic. She hadn't even made it home yet. So I figure it'll be a while before she's back here."
He nodded, disappointment washing through him.
"She ran out of here looking for you," Payton said, his voice pitched low so that it didn't carry over to Harrison's cubicle. "I take it she didn't find you."
Gabe shook his head. "I must have already been in Cullen's office."
"It'll work out," Payton said, his somber gaze meeting Gabe's. "You just have to take it slow."
"Not my strong point." Gabe grimaced. He'd always gone full tilt for the things he wanted. And he wanted Madison.
"Hey, guys, I think maybe I've got something here."
Gabe pulled his thoughts away from Madison, and followed Payton over to the computer terminal. "What did you find?"
"Something more about Bluemax." He pointed to the screen. "According to this, the owner of the company was a man called Edward Clinton. He patented a process for producing semiconductors that dramatically cut the cost per unit. If it had worked it would have revolutionized the industry."
"If it worked?" Payton frowned at the monitor. "You're saying it didn't?"
"He never got to find out. Vrycom leveraged his company, and took everything, including the patents. Clinton was left with nothing but debt. The official press from Vrycom was that the patents were worthless. But considering the fact that at least three of the men sitting on the Vrycom board had significant investment in the old process, I'd say it was a little suspect."
"So you're thinking this Edward Clinton is out for revenge?"
"Not unless we're talking ghosts. The man killed himself about six months after the takeover. Right after his court case was dismissed."
"So it's another dead end." Gabe blew out a frustrated breath as his cell phone began to ring. He nodded for Payton and Harrison to continue, and turned away from them, his mind already jumping to the possibility that it was Madison. "Roarke."
"We need to talk." Nigel's voice sounded tinny on the other end, traffic noise and static making it hard to hear.
"I thought you were on your way to London."
"Not for a couple of hours. I'm outside the building right now. Can you meet me in front?"
"Why don't you come up here?"
"Not a chance. Not everyone is as understanding as you are, and I don't relish the idea of running into Cullen Pulaski."
"I never said I understood, Nigel. It's just the way the game is played."
"Among like minds, perhaps, but Cullen plays differently. Anyway, I need for you to come down here."
His instant reaction was to refuse. There was nothing left to say. But instinct kicked in, and his gut answered for him. "All right. I'll come."
"There's an alley half a block away. I'll be there." Nigel clicked off, and Gabriel closed his phone, his mind churning.
"Who was on the phone?" Harrison's interest was cursory. His attention still focused on forcing the computer to yield answers.
"Nigel."
That got his attention. Payton's, too. "What the hell is he doing? I thought he'd be halfway to England by now."
"Evidently not." Gabe started toward the door. "I'll be back in a bit."
"You're going?" Payton's eyebrows rose in surprise.
"He said it was important." Gabe shrugged. "It beats sitting here banging our heads against the wall." An understatement actually. At the moment he was more inclined to ram his fist through it.
Every step forward seemed to send them back three, and he wasn't used to being on the losing end of the stick.
*****
NIGEL FERRIS STOOD in the shadow of the alleyway, waiting. Sooner or later, Gabe would make an appearance. He owed Gabe and he wasn't leaving until he had the chance to talk to him. A crowd surged through the revolving door of the adjacent building, and Nigel glanced at his watch. 5:30 p.m. Quitting time.
His plane for London was at eight. Not much time. He pulled his coat collar closer around his neck and willed his friend to appear. If he'd read the signals between Gabe and Madison correctly, there was something going on between the two of them. Something significant. And if he was right about things, then they might not have the opportunity to build on what they'd started.
As if he'd heard Nigel's silent plea, Gabe turned into the alley, his shoulders hunched against the chill of the wind. Nigel waited until he was certain Gabe was alone, and then stepped out of the shadows.
"So what's with the cloak-and-dagger routine?" The words weren't much more than a mumble.
"I'm the enemy, remember? I figured it was best to watch my back."
"We've said everything that needs to be said." Gabe stopped in front of him, avoiding his gaze.
"About my part in the operation, yes. But not about Madison."
Gabe's head jerked up. "What the hell does she have to do with you?"
Nigel pulled Gabe deeper into the shadows. "Nothing at all, but unless I misread things, she has everything to do with you. And I think we missed something important when we were at the scene of Jeremy's murder. It's been bothering me since then. But by the time I worked it out, I had been banished from the kingdom, so to speak."
"And so you thought you'd come back to share?" There was bitterness mixed with Gabe's anger. Not that Nigel blamed him.
"I thought it was important enough to risk your wrath. Whether you choose to believe it or not, I still consider you my friend. And if Madison is important to you, then she's important to me, too."
"So tell me what the hell it is you think you know?"
Nigel waited a moment to be certain he had Gabe's full attention. "It's about the trajectory of the shot."
"The one that killed Jeremy," Gabe prodded.
Nigel nodded. "Something felt off to me at the time, but I couldn't quite place it. Then this morning it came clear. Look, Jeremy was moving from the wing chair to the drinks cart when he was shot."
"Passing in full view of the window."
"Right. But he was shot in the neck. And you know as well as I do that that's a risky shot. Much better to go for the head. And if the man was in plain view, the killer had plenty of time to aim for the head."
"Maybe something jarred his hand." The remark was a throwaway, Gabe's complete attention zeroed in on Nigel now.
"Or maybe he was never aiming at Jeremy at all."
Gabe sucked in a breath, the importance of Nigel's words hitting with brute force. "Madison."
"Exactly. She said she was standing to the side of the window when she thought she saw movement. And then she stepped into clear view."
"And saw the flash." Gabe's brows drew together as he visualized the events of that night.
"And dived to protect Jeremy." Nigel spread his hands in fait accompli. "If she hadn't moved, she'd have been hit. In the head. She's shorter than Jeremy."
"Oh, my God." Gabe's gaze locked on Nigel's. "That's why there was a second shot. The killer had missed his target. And if I hadn't shown up, there'd have no doubt been a third shot."
Nigel nodded. "I thought you should know."
Gabe turned to go, his mind obviously on finding Madison. Nigel stood watching, wishing he could take back the past few days. Turn back the clock and restore their friendship. But then perhaps it had all been a myth anyway.
People in their line of work couldn't afford attachments. Allies maybe. But not friends. And certainly not lovers.
Still, Nigel found himself wishing Gabriel and Madison Godspeed.
*****
MADISON GLANCED for the forty-fifth time at her watch, hoping her father hadn't given up on her, wishing that the taxi driver had taken the FDR instead of fighting the traffic on First Avenue. Patience was not one of her father's virtues. A trait she'd obviously inherited.
Finally they rounded the turn onto Seventy-second and with squealing brakes came to a stop in front of her building. She shoved a twenty through the window separating the front and back seats, and without waiting for change slid out of the cab.
She'd spent the ride over replaying every word of her last encounter with Gabriel over and over in her mind. Wishing there was a way to call it back. Knowing that there wasn't. One made one's bed and all that.
The wind off the river slapped her in the face, pulling her thoughts to the case and the possibility that her father had information. Something to do with Cullen. Her heart rate ratcheted up a notch as she considered the possibility that the news might not be good. After all, he'd chosen to meet her away from Dreamscape.