by Desiree Holt
Zoe frowned. “Even I know ranches are expensive.”
Zak gave a short laugh. “You bet. To buy and to operate. But this one was running in the black and, thanks to good people, continues to do so.”
“So you bought this after the merger with Guardian?”
He nodded. “That deal has been very lucrative for everyone concerned. With the expanded staff and resources, we’ve been able to bid on some fat security contracts. We were lucky enough to get them. Then our Information Technology department, under the guidance of Nina the Wonderful, developed some incredible security software and we snagged some contracts for that.”
“So the merger was a good thing?”
He snorted. “That’s a mild way of putting it. But it’s a two-edged sword. It gave me the money to buy the ranch but keeps me so busy I don’t get out here nearly as much as I planned. Fortunately for you, however, it’s a good place to stash you.”
Zoe worked hard to keep her voice even as she attempted to apologize yet one more time. “Zak, I want to tell you again how very sorry I am for what I did. I knew it was dumb when I did it, but I guess I didn’t realize just how dumb.” She fisted her hands on her knees. “I’m not stupid. I don’t know how many ways I can say this. I was concerned about my mother, and I thought I got off the phone in plenty of time.”
Before Zak could say anything, Frank—whoever he was—walked in carrying a tray with two filled coffee mugs, sugar, and milk.
“I wasn’t sure how you took it,” he told Zoe, setting the tray on the edge of the desk closest to her.
From somewhere, she dredged up a smile. “Just black is fine, thanks.”
He nodded and left the room.
“Frank’s my foreman,” Zak explained. “We don’t have a very big operation here, and he runs it practically with his eyes closed. But he’ll have them open and on you while you’re here.”
Zoe clenched her fists, keeping her voice as even as possible. She didn’t know how long she could deal with his attitude, no matter how justified it was. It was killing her to have this lying between them. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and beg his forgiveness. But she’d been doing that in different ways since they fled the safe house and it didn’t seem to cut any ice with him.
She decided to give it one more shot.
What the hell.
“You can’t imagine how humiliated I am that I did what I did,” she began. “I dragged you into this and then put everyone at risk over a stupid telephone call. I don’t know what else to say.”
Zak leaned forward, and when he spoke, his voice was a little softer. “I know that. And I know how important reassuring your mother was. I think you’ve apologized enough for that, okay? But I’m not sure you understand that these aren’t ordinary people who are after you. That’s the problem. They’re pretty scary, and they’ll stop at nothing to get you out of the way now.”
“But who are they?” she cried. “Do you know?”
“I’m checking it out, but a source of mine is pretty sure we’re dealing with the Russian mob. The mafiyah.”
Zoe stared at him. “You’re kidding, right? The mafiyah? This is a joke.”
“No joke. And your cousin Sergei might be smack in the middle of it.”
“What? No. No, no, no.” She shook her head. They’d been over this before, and she still didn’t believe it. “The Russian mob? And you think my family is involved? That’s impossible. Just because we are Russian doesn’t make us crooks.”
“Your uncle got you into this,” he reminded her.
“That is just too farfetched. My uncle would never risk his reputation or those of his partners and associates by being involved in criminal activity. I’m his niece, for god’s sake.”
Zak leaned forward and took one of her hands. She cringed at the impersonality of the touch. “Zoe, people get into trouble, and they do strange things. They bend to pressure. Someone wanted access to Lombardo Simulations, and Nate Dunning was the key. For you, a simple business deal. For them, entry into a high tech company writing sophisticated programs.”
She raked her hair back, tucking it behind her ears. “This is just too unbelievable. The Russian mob? I thought that was only something made up on television and in the movies. Certainly there’s never been a hint of it around our family.”
“Shocked me, too. I haven’t heard a whisper of them operating in this area, and we hear just about everything.” Zak handed her a mug. “Watch this. It’s hot.”
She took it with both hands, cradling it in her palms to keep from dropping it. When she sipped at it, the warmth spread through her body, steadying her flip-flopping nerves. Finally, she raised her eyes, forcing herself to meet Zak’s gaze. “Have you linked them to Nate in any way?”
“Working on it,” he told her. “Reno Sullivan has connections that I don’t. He’s digging into it for me. I hope he has some information for me today.”
“I have to do something to help. I know I have to stay here,” she said quickly when he opened his mouth. “But let me get back to work on the laptop. Both laptops.”
“It’s shut down, right?”
She nodded.
“Okay. I want you to stay out of the LI servers and work strictly from the cloud.”
“Why? I know there’s more I never got a chance to download.”
“Because we don’t know who is monitoring the system,” he explained. “We don’t want them to have an electronic trace back to you and your laptop. Get out now.”
Her stomach knotted at his words. She’d thought by going through her own firewall she was safe, but what if whoever had monkeyed with the files had done the same with the firewall? It was obviously someone with advanced computer skills.
“Okay,” she told him. “I’ll take apart every file I have backed up. I know if I keep at it long enough, I can figure out what they did and why.”
He nodded. “We need that. I’m sure the answer is in there somewhere, and it’s a lot more than money laundering. But first, I want you to give me everything you know about Morgan and Detwiler from the moment you met them. When, how, where. Any involvement they had in your dealings with Nate.” He pulled the papers from the printer tray. “Jay Browning, who’s been at this all night, sent this to me.”
“What did he find out?”
“We already knew Caz has a very successful investment firm. Your uncle is one of his clients, along with a real catalog of the area’s top players. But if he is, in fact, in bed with or part of the Russian mob, he would always be scouting for new opportunities. Your company has something they want. They targeted Nate as the person to open the door for them.”
“But what could they want?”
“The drug cartels pretty much own this city, and Jay thinks the Russians wanted in on the action. Not just drugs but the gun business, that is very lucrative for them.”
“But the cartels don’t just roll over for someone,” Zoe pointed out. “And they have plenty of control. Neither the local police nor the DEA have been able to shake them loose. Even I know that.”
“Okay.” Zak glanced at the papers again. “They needed a start. Something. And as I said before, LS had something they wanted.”
“But how did they zero in on Nate?” Zoe was having trouble processing all of this. Nate, a part of the Russian mob? “From everything I know, he was the only son of a very wealthy family, living the fast life, and trying to make his own fortune.”
“Nate was rich and good looking, had an inflated idea of his capabilities, and he wanted to play with the big fish. From all appearances, Caz made him richer. According to this, Caz brought in Max Detwiler, who we also think is mafiyah. He financed a company with Nate as the nominal head and the game was on.” He shrugged. “Maybe they thought there would be chemistry between the two of you, other than business, and they’d have a solid situation to do what they want.”
“But we still don’t know what they want.” Zoe took another sip of her coffee. “Do you th
ink Nate knew what he was getting into?”
Zak shook his head. “Not in the beginning. By the time he realized who he was in bed with, he was not only in too deep but he was too hooked on the lifestyle.”
“But why me?” she asked. “We still have no idea what he wanted with Lombardo Simulations. Surely there are other technology companies they could have bought into.”
Zak laid the papers on the desk, picked up his coffee, and took a swallow. She could tell he was choosing his words very carefully. “They needed someone who was eager to grow and needed a lot of financing to do it. Nate came to you highly recommended and he had a reputation, so you didn’t look as closely as other people might have.
Zoe set her mug back on the desk. “You mean, I was greedy and hungry and had stars in my eyes.” She twisted her lips in a grimace. “And excited that a man of Nate Dunning’s wealth and stature would be at all interested in me. That’s what you really mean to say, right? I was ripe for the plucking?”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much,” he told her. “You aren’t the first one or the only one. There are others just like you—smart, inventive, looking to the future—that became the building blocks of Dunning International. People who were sucked in the same way.”
“What if I hadn’t stumbled onto those reports?” she asked. “How long would this have gone on?”
“As long as they needed you. That’s what you need to keep in mind.”
Chills invaded her body again. “And then, when they’d gotten what they wanted, I’d have been history.”
“I can’t say you’re wrong. On the other hand, if they thought you had no clue about anything, Nate could have offered to let you buy him out. Say he wanted to move onto some other acquisition.”
“But I started asking questions before they were ready to pull out.”
“And somehow that made Nate a liability, too. We need to find out why. And also what it is about LS that made it a target. Each of the companies Dunning International owns gave them a foothold in something. What did you offer them?”
She brushed her hair away from her face. “There are dozens of companies doing what I do.”
“Ah, but you must have some particular creative touch that they needed. Don’t worry, we’ll find out what it is.” He stroked her arm with his free hand. “Jay Browning, who is unequalled in ferreting out information in cyberspace, is working on finding out what happened with the other companies Dunning bought and the people who owned them. Many of the businesses are still operating, and I want to know who’s at the head.”
“I can promise you Uncle Ivan had nothing to do with this. I’ve known him all my life. His reputation in the city—the state—is one of the shining stars in our family tree.”
Zak nodded. “And so far I’ve found nothing to indicate any difference.” He sat back. “So, here’s the plan. The first thing on the list for you is some rest. By the time you get up, Serita, my housekeeper, will be here. She’ll fix you breakfast. Eat it. Then get back to work on the computer.”
“What will you be doing?”
“I’m going back to my office to pull together everything my staff has gotten so far, meet with Reno, and see what he’s come up with. Then I’ll start rousting out my contacts and seeing what I can find out about the Russians in the San Antonio area.”
Zoe knuckled her eyes, trying to wipe away the gritty feel. “This all still feels so very unreal.”
“Oh, honey, it’s real. Believe me. You got sucked into something you didn’t even see coming.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth, and something flashed in his eyes that hadn’t been there a minute ago. “And we’re done apologizing, okay? Forget yesterday and everything before it. Let’s get past this and see what’s going on with you and me.”
Her heart stuttered. “You mean there still might be a chance for…us?”
The look he gave her was totally unreadable. Then he let out a long breath. “No matter how angry I get with you, Zoe, I can’t seem to get you out of my system.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to.”
Again he looked long and hard at her. “Right now, we’re in a dangerous, high tension situation,” he said at last. “We’ll see what happens when this is all over and life becomes somewhat normal again. Just…no more phone calls and no more high profile deals, okay?”
She swallowed. She wanted something more definite, but at the moment, she’d take what she could get. “That is a solid promise.”
“Also, my team may have traced the grenade fragments to the manufacturer by now. And finally…” He gave a half-smile. “I’m going to see if I can track illegal gun sales.”
“When do you plan to get some sleep?’
“When I can fit it into my schedule. Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll sleep.”
Which obviously isn’t going to be with him.
Zoe followed Zak out of the room.
Chapter Nine
After catching barely three hours of sleep, Zak had called for Marty to pick him up in the helicopter. A thermos of Frank’s coffee that he drank on the flight to his office managed to wake up most of his brain cells. He’d just have to keep feeding his system more caffeine until he was running on all cylinders.
Jay and Nina were waiting for him in Carol’s office when he arrived. Neither of them looked like they’d had any more sleep than he had, but they were gamely ready to give their reports and see where they needed to go next.
Keith was also with them. Zak lifted an eyebrow at that.
“Yes, I got some of the information you asked for,” he told his boss. “You wanted to know if the Russians have been cutting in on cartel territory, what the cartels are doing about it. And if they aren’t doing anything, why not?”
“Who’s running the stuff these days, anyway?” Zak asked. Last year, his other partner, Nick Vanetta, had been instrumental in helping the feds bring down the secretive and sinister Osuna cartel. But he knew the void wouldn’t be empty for long. Too many gangs in Mexico were getting into the business and expanding their operations.
Keith yawned, then covered his mouth apologetically. “Sorry. I plan to crash for a couple of hours when we’re done here.”
Zak nodded. “I’m surprised you’re still able to stay awake.”
“Actually, two smaller operations are trying to get a foothold and expand. There’s been a lot of bloody competition, and the feds, at the moment, are letting them slug it out, hoping they’ll all kill each other.”
“I hear you.”
“Anyway, after Dean and I dropped you at the hangar, I spent some time in a couple of places where I could pick up on what’s going on.”
“All right. Let’s go into my office, and everyone can tell me what you’ve got. Maybe I can rustle up some coffee.”
“Already done, boss.” Carol emerged from the little kitchen at the side of her office carrying a tray with filled mugs and a carafe. “Also, Mr. Sullivan said to call him as soon as you got here.”
Zak looked at his watch. “Do you know what time it is? You know I don’t expect you to show up this early.”
She set the tray on his desk and shrugged. “We’ve got an emergency here. That means no clocks. Apparently, Mr. Sullivan isn’t sleeping, either, so it sure wouldn’t look good for us to lay around.” She winked at him. “Just yell when you want more.”
“Remind me to give you a raise,” he told her.
“If you’ll excuse me? I have a ton of calls for you I need to deal with.” She looked at all of them, then back at Zak. “I hate to rain on your parade when I just gave you good news, but some of those calls are from Detective Morales. He wants to see you immediately.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Zak picked up a mug and sat down behind his desk. “Call him and tell him you expect me in an hour. That’ll give us time to see where we are.”
“Got it.” She closed the door behind her.
Zak looked at each of his employees in turn. Despite everyone’s fatigue, t
he air was charged with energy. “So tell me, where are we? Exactly?”
“Me, first,” Keith said. “I can lay down some of the foundation.”
Zak nodded at him to continue, leaned back in his chair and took a swallow of hot liquid.
“I’ll give you the condensed version.” Keith shoved his hands in his pockets and began to pace. He’d once told Zak he always thought better when he was moving. “Word on the street is the cartel is very unhappy about the Russians, but so far, they aren’t doing anything about them. First of all, the drugs the Russians import come from the poppy fields of Afghanistan, not Mexico or South America, so they aren’t cutting into the basic cartel product. Secondly, they’re more into wholesaling than street dealing, so they actually sell in bulk to the cartels.”
“Which increases their raw supply,” Zak commented.
“But they’re missing one thing here.”
“The cartels haven’t yet realized the Russians are slowly inserting themselves into their business,” Jay told them. “Moving into the void left when the Osunas were arrested. Encroaching on their territory.”
“Right,” Keith agreed. “So we don’t have the beginnings of a war. Yet.”
“Then what are they into besides drugs?” Nina wanted to know.
Keith stopped pacing in front of the desk, held up one hand, and began counting off on his fingers. “Prostitution. Smuggling girls into and out of the country for the white slave trade. The old protection racket. Buying and selling arms. Stuff like that.”
“But San Antonio’s not exactly the hub of the world,” she protested. “I should imagine they’d be pretty isolated here.”
“Not at all,” Keith said. “We’re only ninety miles from the Gulf and we have an international airport that’s getting more and more traffic every day. Easy in and out. And possibly a less conspicuous place for them to smuggle their compatriots into this country rather than New York where everyone’s on high alert.”