“I own the place. We need to talk. I see you’ve agreed to my terms.”
“Of course I did, but now’s not a good time to gloat. It’s my first day, and I’m already late.”
He took her by the elbow and led her closer to the wall. “So make up an excuse. You have for everything else. I want you to keep in touch with me.”
“You what?”
“I want daily updates.”
“Updates.” Her face was a mask of confusion. “Sure. No problem. Where does Susan live? I’ll drop by her place after work.”
“Funny.” He reached into his wallet, took out a card, removed a pen from his shirt pocket, and scribbled his private number. “If I don’t answer, leave a message. I’ll call you back.”
“And if I can’t call you?” she asked, under her breath. “The only time I use my cell phone is in my motel room. I can’t bring it or any of my personal information to the plant. Part of going undercover, is going under. Anyone gets suspicious and steals my purse, I could be in real trouble.”
He glared at her. “You already are in real trouble. New condition. As long as you’re inside this plant, I need you to carry your cell phone. Now give me your number.”
An employee came out of one of the offices.
Brad pivoted toward the jobs’ board again; Diana scurried to the fountain to get a drink.
Once the worker was out of sight, she recited her phone number so fast, Brad made her repeat it. Then he stuffed the card in his pants pocket. “Another thing, first chance you get, call your mother.”
Her face lost every ounce of its color. “Why? Did something happen? What’s wrong?”
“She’s worried about you, that’s all.”
“Fine.” Diana pressed a hand to her breast and squeezed her eyes closed. “Can I go now, person who owns the place?”
“No. Where were you this weekend?”
“El Paso. I checked into a decent hotel and spent some time at the library.”
“And just now? What were you and Carmen talking about?”
Diana flashed him an exasperated look. “Orientation, her problem marriage, your brother.”
“You talked about Neil? What about him?”
“Only that he’s not the most popular guy around, cutting budgets and letting people go. He demoted a chemist recently who apparently took exception.”
Brad nodded. At dinner several weeks ago, Neil had suggested that another set of cutbacks might happen. Their dad had recommended that Neil do it only as a last resort. It not only affected company morale, but this type of bad news would play hell on Diamond’s economy.
How many, Brad wondered. “Neil’s got a rough job. Unfortunately, we’re in a recession.”
“Poor baby. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have it as rough as the people he lays off.” Diana adjusted her glasses. “By the way, have you told anyone that I’m here?”
“Not yet. Why?”
“During orientation, Vic Hagen seemed curious about me. I thought you might have said something.”
Brad thought about that as he returned her gaze. Jordan’s plant manager had probably watched her, not because he was suspicious of her, but because she was one sexy lady. Not that Brad would ever explain that to Diana. “I haven’t said a word to anyone. I’m going along for now. But remember, an update every night. And if you discover anything—”
“You’ll know about it immediately. May I go now?”
“Brad?”
He turned to see his brother standing in the corridor’s opening several feet away.
Neil walked Brad’s way, obviously noticing he wasn’t alone. Glancing between him and Diana, Neil raised a curious brow. “You coming?”
“On my way,” Brad said.
When Neil stared at Diana expectantly, Brad said, “This is . . .” Holy hell. His mind went blank.
“Candace Armstrong,” Diana replied in an outlandish accent that Brad thought she laid on a little too thick. “Thank you, again, sir. You’ve been so helpful. I think I can find it just fine now.” The little impostor lowered her head and dashed toward the lobby.
“It?” Neil frowned, following her with his gaze.
Way to leave me to improvise. “She . . . wanted directions to the DMV.”
Neil stared back at Brad as though he was trying to figure out how they were related.
Brad shrugged. “Ready?”
They exited the hallway, entering a private dining room off the cafeteria. Brad hated the segregation of the place, but he supposed that, for what he’d come to talk to Neil about, it suited their purpose.
“That woman in the hallway,” Neil said, taking a seat, “I got the impression you knew her.”
For a moment, Brad debated telling Neil who hid beneath the copper-colored wig and glasses. But eyeing his brother’s hard-set jaw, he decided against it. “Never saw her before.”
Neil frowned. “Well, you got me here. What’s so all-fired important?”
“Do you remember Alonso Garcia?”
“Sure. Analytical chemist. Worked for us a long time.”
Brad nodded. “His daughter was a classmate of mine. She came to see me. She’s a physician now.” Brad launched into his reason for coming, relaying the conversation he’d had with Liz the previous Thursday.
The more Brad spoke, the more Neil’s face became progressively redder. “Let me get this straight. Some woman makes allegations against this company, and you believe her?”
Brad had expected Neil’s outrage, and in truth, his reaction was a relief. Neil seemed truly appalled. “I didn’t say I believe her, And she’s not some woman. Elizabeth Garcia is a respected medical doctor in El Paso.”
“I don’t give a damn who she is. Her suggestion is preposterous.”
“I agree.”
“Then why are you here? Frankly, I don’t need this shit, and I resent your interference. What’s the matter, having second thoughts about politics and backing out of the company?”
Brad leaned back in his chair and let his brother vent.
“I’ve busted my ass to keep Jordan in the black in spite of this pitiful economy. And you know what, I’ve done it.”
He bit back a smile. As teenagers, conversations like these would have resulted in bloodied noses. But years had passed, and Neil was wrong about Brad wanting to assume a participating role in the company. He’d discovered a passion for the law early on. What’s more, he wanted to make it on his own. He’d had no interest in running the company then, nor any interest in its current day-to-day operation—unless it was putting the public at risk, of course.
“Believe whatever you want,” he said. “But Dr. Garcia has leveled serious charges, and I’ve been elected to do a job. If you weren’t my brother, the sheriff would be sitting across from you, not me.”
Neil leaned forward. “Jordan does not hire Mexican nationals without work visas.”
“Then prove it.”
“How?” He threw up his hands. “How do I make all of this go away?”
“Give me your okay to talk to people, and an opportunity to look around. If I ask, give me access to your files.”
Neil’s mouth twisted into a scowl.
Brad folded his arms. “Look at it this way; it’s either me or the EPA.”
Several moments elapsed before Neil tossed his napkin on his plate. “I’ll tell my managers to make their records available and to answer your questions. Then, knock yourself out.”
Chapter Ten
“CONGRESSMAN Harrison, John Jordan calling.” John tapped his pen on a legal pad, then doodled an American flag beginning with the stars. He’d just started to etch the stripes, when a voice came on the line.
“Mr. Jordan, Congressman Harrison’s in conference, sir. My name’s Todd
Davis. I’m his personal aide. He asked me to see if I can be of assistance.”
John didn’t care much to discuss Faith’s personal matters with a stranger, but he’d had enough. The waiting was killing her. Hell, the waiting was killing him.
“I’m calling on behalf of a friend,” John explained. “Her name is Faith Margaret Reid of Diamond, Texas. Her husband is Chief Warrant Officer Benton Reid. He’s listed as MIA in Southeast Asia. According to the State Department, there’s no news. I’m hoping the congressman can open doors that Mrs. Reid cannot.”
The aide’s silence didn’t alarm him. John heard a pen working furiously in the background. Perhaps the aide was aware of Jordan Industries’ sizable campaign contributions.
“I’ll pass this information along to Congressman Harrison. What date was he listed missing, sir?”
“Sixteen September, Nineteen seventy-seven.” John placed a thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose and massaged.
“Seventy-seven, sir?” the aide asked, his confusion evident.
“Correct. The war was over, and Reid had done a couple of tours by then and was considered an expert on the region. Details are sketchy, but he and his crew were on a reconnaissance mission to locate previous troops lost in combat. Tragically, Reid and his crew became part of the missing.”
“I understand. May I have a number where the congressman can reach you?”
John relayed the information and hung up the phone. Faith had invited him to dinner. The action he’d taken could place their relationship on shaky ground. She might consider it meddling where he didn’t belong.
Stripping off his shirt, he glanced out the window. Thunderclouds rolled in, and lightning lit up the sky in the distance. The weather service had been forecasting a much-needed downpour all day.
He hoped the inclement weather wasn’t a sign. With that premonition in mind, John decided to keep the long-distance call to himself. He went upstairs to shower and change.
DIANA SAT CROSS-LEGGED on the bed, and, through a slit in the dreary motel room curtains, watched the downpour flood the parking lot. Her afternoon in the mailroom hadn’t been as fruitful as her morning. In between distributing mail and routine copy jobs, she’d learned nothing more after her conversation with Carmen.
She’d doffed the wig, kicked off her shoes, then, cradling her cell to her ear, braced for Marty’s fit. He’d agreed that Diana could come because of a potential story. But, thanks to Brad’s ultimatum, there wouldn’t be one.
Including the weekend, she’d been in Diamond for four days. Marty assumed she was making the rounds, mingling with friends so the sender of the letter would get word that Diana had arrived and would make contact.
Nothing could have been further from the truth. Marty couldn’t know that eight years ago, in exchange for Clayton Jordan’s silence, she’d promised never to return. Succumbing to the bastard’s blackmail, she was working at Jordan in disguise and staying at a disreputable motel.
“Have you learned anything?” Marty asked.
“Nothing so far.” Diana sighed.
“So, if nothing happens tomorrow, close it up, and come home. Is your mom okay?”
“She seems good.” Diana closed her eyes. “We’ve been going through the attic and getting a lot accomplished. She’d like me to stay for another week.”
“Another week? You just said there’s no story. What are you up to?”
Diana bit her lip. Was she doomed to walk the earth a perpetual liar? “Not a thing. It’s just that now that I’m here, I’m having a wonderful time.” She rolled her eyes. “I have three weeks accrued, Marty.”
“Yeah, but we ask people not to take it all at once, particularly without notice. It might help if I knew you were after a story.”
“There isn’t one,” she insisted, cringing at the thought of Brad’s no-media warning. “And as you well know, I don’t get to Diamond often. Now that I’m here, my mom and I are taking care of unfinished business.”
“And you need a whole week?”
Diana sat upright, squinted, and held back a groan. Was that water coming through the ceiling? Phone to her ear, she hopped off the bed, looking for something to catch the leak.
She hated to break it to Marty, but if she didn’t find the author of the letter in another week, she might be asking for more time off. “If I can come home sooner, I will.” Her gaze finally settled on a trash can. It was the room’s one and only, but it would have to do. She grabbed it and positioned it under the dripping water.
“I advise you strongly to return sooner,” he said. “All right. As of this moment, you’re on vacation. I hope you know what you’re doing. Shelby took your place. She’s doing a fantastic job.”
Diana felt a stab of panic. “I understand.”
“Viewers have a short memory. You can be replaced.”
Subtlety wasn’t Marty’s strong suit. Shelby Aragon would indeed move into the evening anchor spot if Diana stayed away too long.
She had no choice. She was a journalist, not a technical guru. She’d revealed cover-ups by reviewing documents, conducting interviews, and fitting two and two together. Like a puzzle, these things took time. Something neither Brad nor Marty seemed inclined to give her.
Her throat threatened to close. Was she doing the right thing? The one good thing that had happened since her broken engagement to Brad was her career. She should leave right now. Convince her mom to relocate to Dallas where she’d be safe. Erase Diamond from her mind.
Diana had done it. She’d survived. A tight band constricted around her chest. She’d also been miserable.
Diamond was the first place Faith had found even a trace of happiness after her husband went MIA. She had friends, ties to the community. She had a life, something Diana had guarded for her mom by not sharing the truth with her.
“I’ll be home before you know it,” Diana said to Marty, forcing confidence into her voice. Before she ended the call, though, another thought entered her mind. “Can I ask for one more favor?” She reached for a pencil on the nightstand.
“What? You haven’t reached your quota?”
She shook her head. “As long as I’m here, I’d like to see an old friend, but my Internet’s nonexistent in this place, and I can’t find her in the phone book.”
“What’s her name?”
Diana traced the name she’d written earlier. “Dr. Elizabeth Garcia. I think she specializes in emergency medicine. Will you do a search for me? See if you can find an address?”
“Simple enough. Want me to call you back?”
“No.” Diana eyed the duffle bag across the room. “I’m going out. I’ll phone tomorrow night. Same time?”
“That works. Diana?”
“Yes?”
“You’re hiding something from me. I don’t have the clout to save you if you fall into disfavor with the execs. If you stay away too long, you’re risking your career.”
She started to speak, but read End on her cell phone.
Loneliness engulfed her. Unclasping Brad’s locket from her throat, she yanked at bobby pins, brushed the tangled strands from her hair, then remembered his demand for a daily update. She brushed her hair harder than she had to. Surely, today’s meeting in the company’s hallway had counted for something.
She looked toward the space between the curtains again. It revealed the storm had yet to let up. Rain or shine, she had no choice. She’d make her move after dark.
Chapter Eleven
RAIN POUNDED LEO Winters as he balanced a sack of groceries and rummaged through his pockets for his key. Once inside the efficiency apartment, he bolted the door against the howling wind and rain, then tossed the bag on a crate that doubled as a table. A folding chair served as its mate. Leo had no need of a second seat. In the five years he’d lived here, no one ha
d ever visited.
Shaking off the wet and cold, he took in his barren existence. A useless phone lay on its side next to the cramped kitchenette. When he’d received a disconnect notice from the phone company, he’d simply declined to pay it. It wasn’t like the darn thing ever rang.
The furnishings in the adjoining bedroom and bath weren’t much better. Leo pressed down upon the mattress and box springs he’d purchased the day he’d moved in. He could probably sell them as new. With all the hours he’d spent in the lab, the bed had rarely been slept in. Tonight was the first night in weeks he’d been home before ten.
How could Neil do this to him? An environmental chemist with a degree from Cal Tech, Leo had joined Jordan to produce nontoxic chemicals for the agricultural market. The company’s commitment to replace toxic pesticides with those that wouldn’t harm human beings or the environment appealed to him a great deal.
Research had been his life. And the progress! He’d made unbelievable progress.
To be replaced with Murdock? A man without scruples, a man who took unmitigated chances? Neil Jordan admired those traits? The dolt had even said as much. Get your mind off the ozone, Leo. We’re not producing soda pop. Pesticides are meant to kill.
If Jordan were producing the toxic PR50, as Murdock’s chemical analysis had shown, that’s exactly what would happen. PR50 couldn’t be incinerated, and no disposal site would take it.
Leo sat at the rickety old desk and buried his face in his hands.
Why hadn’t she come?
He’d written the letter to Diana seven days ago. Every morning when he entered the plant, he expected no less than the cavalry brigade. When he’d mentioned the possibility of Diana’s mother being hurt, Leo envisioned every camera crew this side of the Mississippi banging on Jordan’s door. Instead, everything at Jordan remained status quo. Something Leo couldn’t abide.
Drawn to the yearbook that lay on an upside down crate beside his bed, he turned to the page he knew by heart. With trembling fingers, he traced the image of an eighteen-year-old girl with midnight hair and exotic dark eyes. Intense. Focused. Like me.
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