Jade loosened her grip on the phone. She knew the company well. It was a major supplier of her grandmother’s company. Why is he here? Out of the politeness her grandmother had instilled in her, she shook his hand.
He didn’t let go. Instead, he put his other hand on top of hers, adding to the creepoid factor.
Jade pulled her hand away and used it to tuck her hair behind her ear.
“I realize this is a hard time for you, Miss Buchanan. My company wants to help by acquiring Synergy Technologies.”
Hard time? Does he mean finals? “My grandmother’s company isn’t for sale. And even if it was, you’d have to talk to her about it.” Gran would never sell the company. Or would she? Would she sell the company just to make a point?
Mr. Greenberg’s eyebrows drew together. “She, uh… I’m sorry, you don’t know?”
Jade stepped back. “Don’t know what?”
“Your grandmother.”
She shook her head, not wanting to hear what might be coming. His voice took on a tone of sympathy.
“Your grandmother passed away yesterday evening.”
“She what… no.” Jade’s chest tightened while she fumbled to look at her phone. He had to be wrong. She stared at the three voicemail messages her mother had left yesterday after Jade’s cell phone battery had died. She’d charged the phone overnight and thrown it in her bag this morning, too late for class to look at it.
This can’t be.
She pushed the button and listened to her mother’s first call. Jade’s pack fell to the ground. Her mom’s voice faded as the words began to sink in.
Gran is gone.
A quake from somewhere deep within shook her very core. Guilt pierced her heart, opening a fissure so big she could fall through and never surface. Her knees buckled, and the cell phone slid out of her hand.
Mr. Greenberg picked up the phone when it vibrated with another call. “Hello? No, she’s right here, but she’s not doing well. No, she just found out her grandmother passed away.”
Jade folded her arms around her midsection and rocked back and forth. Her last words to Gran had been heated, and she could never take them back.
Mr. Greenberg held the phone out to Jade.
She didn’t take it from him. She couldn’t talk right now. She couldn’t talk at all.
Aleks’s voice came through the phone. “Jade, you need to come home. Now.”
SOMETHING WAS OFF. Detective Neal Hawkins leaned back in his swivel chair with his feet propped up on his standard-issue desk. Headquarters was quiet after normal business hours, allowing him the chance to think.
He scanned the King County medical examiner’s report again. It killed him to review the crime scene photos in his lap. To see Gloria Buchanan’s crumpled body on her office floor. She had deserved to die in peace.
He couldn’t shake the image of her swollen face and eyes, even questioned the medical examiner about the EpiPen found in her purse. The ME indicated no findings were present such as rash or hives and the edema of her face and extremities was consistent with side effects from cancer treatment and the prednisone in her purse. Whether she’d died from anaphylactic shock or cancer, neither pointed to murder. And there were no visible signs of a struggle in her office; everything was neat and in order.
So what’s bothering me?
Riley, his partner, came up from behind him and dropped two folders on his desk. “I’m heading out, Hawk. This is the last of the paperwork. Give them to Cap for me.”
“Will do.”
Riley glanced down at the photos. “Isn’t that the old lady who died of cancer? I thought the case was closed.”
Neal pulled his feet from his desk and sat upright. “It is, but something is nagging at me. If she was that far along, that close to death, why was she working?”
“It does bring new meaning to the word workaholic.” Riley slipped his sunglasses over his eyes. “Do you think Cap will let you review the case again?”
Neal doubted it. “I owe her.”
“Why’s that?”
“My dad was working for her company when he died of a heart attack. I was fifteen at the time. Gloria continued to pay his salary for three years until Mom remarried.”
“That’s one classy lady. Trust your gut. We call you Hawk for a reason.”
“I’m working on it.” Neal flipped the crime scene photos face down on his desk.
“I’ll be back in two weeks. Don’t get shot while I’m gone.”
“You’re a riot. Don’t bring home any STDs from Mexico.”
“What fun would it be if I didn’t try?”
“Get out of here.” Neal waved him off with his hand. When it came to watching your back, Riley was the man. But Neal wouldn’t want the guy anywhere near his sisters.
Riley chuckled as he left and Neal shook his head. He needed to get back to the task at hand. Gloria.
I failed her then.
Gloria had asked him to look into the disappearance of one of her employees almost two years ago. Arnie Thompson’s body had washed up in Murden Cove on Bainbridge Island.
Neal wiped a hand down his face.
The Port of Seattle PD had jurisdiction, and the medical examiner’s report had indicated that Thompson drowned. Rigor mortis and physical wounds indicated postmortem injuries. No defensive wounds were found. In other words, the case had been classified as an accidental drowning.
Neal hadn’t bought it then, and he didn’t buy it now.
The victim’s car had been found at Shilshole Bay Marina, which meant Arnie Thompson had gone out on a boat. His family had confirmed that he’d gone fishing with a friend, but they didn’t know with whom. Thing was, no friend came forward to call the Coast Guard or police.
Without a formal okay from his captain, he’d done legwork on his own, but couldn’t find a connection between the owners of the boats moored at the marina and anyone who knew the vic.
Gloria had taken the news of Thompson’s death hard, and not having a solid explanation as to why he’d drowned made the news go down that much harder. She’d done so much for Neal’s family after his father had died. He’d wanted to repay her in any way possible, but now—now she was dead. There was nothing more he could do.
So why am I looking at her file again?
Something stuck in his craw. Neal couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he’d missed something. He should have pushed for an autopsy, even though her age, her condition, didn’t warrant it. And with their caseload, Seattle PD didn’t have time to investigate the death of a sixty-eight year old with non-Hodgkin’s terminal lymphoma, a death that on face value seemed cut and dried—and clearly not a murder.
Still… two people from Synergy Technologies are dead.
Neal couldn’t let it go, despite his captain’s orders. As far as he was concerned, the case was still open, and he was going to do everything in his power to find out if there was a connection between those two deaths.
CHAPTER 3
GRAN’S LAWYER INSISTED Jade come today, said it was urgent. Couldn’t he understand that grief still bore down on her, its weight so oppressive she could barely breathe? The funeral had been only two days ago, and yet here she was, on the way to a meeting with a damn lawyer.
The soggy afternoon chilled her as she walked through downtown Seattle. Various shades of gray echoing in the worn pavement, concrete walkways, and glass buildings amplified her melancholy. The constant drizzle frizzed her hair and permeated her clothes.
What does it matter anyway?
As she walked inside Smith Tower, warm air confronted her, causing a shiver to ripple up her spine. Jade automatically punched number eighteen on the elevator panel.
When the door opened, her grandmother’s lawyer approached her from the hallway. “Jade.”
“Mr. Dawson.” Her voice was a shadow of a whisper. She wasn’t prepared when he pulled her into his arms.
“Your grandmother was a remarkable woman.”
Her th
roat clenched. Mr. Dawson was right. It really sucked she’d been fighting with Gran too much to tell her that.
“Please, come inside.” He offered her his arm and led her into the familiar high-rise office.
The floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the murky sky, which deadened the Seattle skyline and the water of Puget Sound. No cheery colors offered the promise of a bright sunny day. No dark, angry thunderclouds filled the sky with sparks of energy. Everything looked dull and lifeless, mimicking the bleakness in her heart.
As Mr. Dawson sat down behind his desk, she focused on the room around her and gasped.
Bryce?
“I’m sorry for your loss, Jade.” Bryce took a tentative step toward her with his arms outstretched and then he stopped. To her disappointment, he shoved his hands in his pockets.
Oh, how she wished he would envelop her in his strong arms and nestle her into his chest. Maybe then some of her pain would ebb.
She hadn’t seen him in years, and of course, here she was, looking like crap in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. On top of that—no doubt—her nose was red and her face blotchy with dried tears. There he stood, all perfect in black dress slacks and a crisp white button-down shirt with a red tie under his suit coat, not a dark hair out of place. Only his hazel eyes reflected her grief.
This is not the way I imagined meeting you again.
She inhaled a deep breath and held it, desperate to hold back the floodgates.
I’m not going to break down, not here, not yet, and not in front of you.
She had to sit. When Jade was sure she could speak, she focused on her grandmother’s lawyer. If she so much as looked at Bryce right now, she’d lose it. “I don’t mean to sound rude, Mr. Dawson, but what are the two of us doing here?”
Mr. Dawson slid a pair of black reading glasses over his thin nose before opening a manila folder. “As you know, your grandmother left your mother and father most of her possessions. However, she left something for you as well.”
“Her pearls?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, she did.” He turned to the locked credenza behind him and pulled out a black velvet case. He placed it on his desk in front of her.
She opened the case, revealing the double-layer pearl necklace with matching pearl and diamond earrings. The set was as stunning and classy as her grandmother had been. A brief moment of comfort warmed her chest.
“But the necklace is not why I brought you both here today.”
“Then why?” Jade closed the velvet box, placed it in her lap, and rubbed her fingers across the soft, soothing nap.
Mr. Dawson folded his hands together. “I feel it best to be direct. Your grandmother has left you Synergy Technologies.”
Jade’s breath caught. “You must be mistaken. Gran would have left the company to my parents.”
“Your father’s a respected orthopedic surgeon and your mother a gifted artist. Neither one has business skills.”
Jade’s eyebrows drew together. “Who else knew about this before today?”
“No one other than myself and your parents.”
So how did Mr. Creepy Stalker know? And why didn’t my parents tell me?
It was bad enough they didn’t let her know Gran was sick, even if her grandmother had hid the severity of her illness from them until a month ago. And it really ticked her off that Gran didn’t want Jade to come home and get caught up in her illness. Once again, her grandmother had taken away her choice. Jade would have transferred to UW or taken a year off school to be there for Gran.
Jade stole a glance at Bryce, whose mouth was open in shock. Clearly, he hadn’t known about this before now either.
“Gloria has named you, Bryce Radisson, as chief operating officer. Jade, do you concur?”
“Yes, of course.”
Bryce seemed taken aback by her quick response.
Let him try to figure that one out.
“Do you accept this position, Mr. Radisson?”
“Yes… Yes, I accept.” His lips curved into a slight smile.
“Excellent.” Mr. Dawson made notes on the paper in front of him. “She has named you, Jade Buchanan, as chief executive officer.”
“What?” they both said in unison.
“For the company to transfer ownership to you, Jade, you must accept the position within ten business days of the reading of this will.”
“But I—I have finals next week and won’t be ready to run a company in two weeks. I still have another year of college. What was Gran thinking?”
“This is ridiculous,” Bryce said. “She’s too young to run a company. No offense, Jade.”
She glared at him. “And thirty isn’t too young to be COO?”
Mr. Dawson attempted to settle their brief sparring match. “Your grandmother was a very smart woman. She’s been training you for this since you were—”
“Five years old.” Jade remembered Gran teaching her about quality-control measures in their attempt to make the perfect chocolate chip cookie. Still, she’d been meant to work her way up the organization and learn the ropes from Gran. She’d hoped one day in the distant future to take over the company from her parents.
“Since we can’t change the will, let’s discuss stock.” Mr. Dawson pulled out another document.
Jade’s curiosity was piqued when he started talking about preferred company stock, especially when he said that her shares were double that of Bryce’s, and combined they had more shares than the board of directors.
Why would Gran give Bryce stock? What is she up to?
“In the event that you do not wish to continue as CEO after twelve months of service, Mr. Radisson will be named CEO. You will have the ability to earn profits, despite no longer working at the company.”
Jade straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. It was so like her grandmother to make decisions for her even from the grave. She wanted to refuse Gran’s wishes just to make a point. “And if I don’t want to be CEO?”
“The company will be sold to the highest bidder.”
And there it is.
Jade gritted her teeth. Gran always had a counterattack.
“The hell it will!” Bryce jumped up and started pacing the back of the small office.
Bryce’s display of temper was unusual, but she couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t grown up with a grandmother who had a hidden agenda behind every decision she made. Obviously, Gran wasn’t going to let someone else take over her company. Jade’s gaze drifted down to the black velvet box in her hands.
I can’t think about this right now.
She stood.
Mr. Dawson rose. “Jade, your decision?”
She walked out of the room, leaving the two men staring at her back.
AFTER CAREFUL DELIBERATION about whether he should find his friends at his favorite sports bar or head home, Bryce decided on the latter. He was in no mood to socialize after the meeting with the lawyer. He locked his silver Nissan 370Z sports coupe and wiped a smudge from the hood with his sleeve. She was his baby, an extravagance he probably shouldn’t have indulged in, but what was the point of making money if not to enjoy it.
He held the elevator open for a woman with groceries and let her young son press the button to his fourteenth-floor condo.
When the elevator door opened on Bryce’s floor, the tall blonde from two doors down was standing outside, waiting. She shot him one of her naughty smiles. “Hi, Bryce.”
“Uh, hi.” For the life of him, he couldn’t remember her name.
“Are you alone? I’m heading to a party if you want to—”
He stepped into the hall. “Just getting in. Kenzie’s expecting me.” He had no idea if Mackenzie was home. That wasn’t the point.
The blonde produced a fake pout meant to be sexy. “Oh, well, maybe next time.”
Bryce unlocked his door, glad she gave up so easily. She was pretty, but he’d never consider a relationship with someone so unpredictable. Today she was hitting on him, last week she�
��d barely said a word to him.
And speaking of unpredictable, what was Gloria thinking, making her granddaughter CEO? Hell, Jade couldn’t even show up at the lawyer’s office dressed appropriately. The girl was immature, disrespectful—and downright beautiful. Her crazy windblown hair, multiple piercings, and baggy clothes hadn’t masked the beauty of her wide green eyes, high cheekbones, and lush lips. She’d be eaten alive in the business world.
Which gave him an opportunity. With a significant investment in Synergy Technologies, he was in a position to shape the company’s future.
If Jade doesn’t get in the way.
He threw the keys on the oak table in the hallway and closed the door harder than he’d intended.
Kenzie glanced away from the flat screen.
“Sorry.” Bryce was glad she wasn’t putting in another twenty-four-hour shift. As usual, she sat curled up on the far end of the tan microsuede couch they’d picked out last month, no doubt watching reruns of her favorite show, Grey’s Anatomy.
“That bad?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you about it in a minute.” He headed to the kitchen and slid his damp jacket over a barstool. He craved a bitter microbrew and chose a Redhook IPA. “Want anything?”
“Uh-uh.” Kenzie gave him her typical don’t-bug-me-this-is-the-good-part response.
Bryce sat on the couch to let the beer dull his raw nerves. He wasn’t interested in watching television.
When a commercial flashed on the screen, Kenzie said to no one in particular, “There’s no way he would have lived with those massive internal injuries. I don’t care how brilliant the surgeon is.”
He knew better than to ask her why she watched the show when she was an ER nurse herself. The last time he’d asked, she’d said she watched it for the relationships and some guy named McDreamy.
Kenzie uncurled her legs and turned toward him. She had faint bruising around her left eye.
“What the hell happened?” Bryce turned her chin to get a better look.
“It’s not that bad.” She pulled her head away. “Some guy with a stab wound came in high on meth. He had to be restrained.”
Synergy: New Adult Romantic Suspense (U-District, #1) Page 2