by M. D. Cooper
“Didn’t you have a non-compete clause in your contract?” Carissa looked skeptical.
“Absolutely. Which is why I never so much as wrote that idea down, much less did anything to develop it. I waited until I had enough money to live on for two years. Then I quit my job and did the research. Once I had the science down, it wasn’t hard to find investors to get Smooth up and running.”
“Intelligent and enterprising,” Marky observed. “I might have to ask you out later,” She gave him a showy wink—much to everyone’s amusement.
“I could only be so lucky,” Sage answered suavely. “My drinks and your hospitality—I think we could take over the whole planet.”
“Planet?” Marky scoffed. “How about all Machete?”
Davin smiled. “I guess that brings us around to me. I’m afraid I don’t have an interesting story. I worked my way up at Barstock Brewery, starting as an intern and going from there. I’ve been there my entire professional life and will probably remain there until I retire.” He gave a small, self-deprecating shrug.
“Nothing uninteresting about hard work and perseverance,” Marky said. “Though it’s slow going and difficult when you’re doing it. Kudos to you.”
Davin smiled modestly.
That brought everyone’s attention around to the manager of Rum and Cork, who had, to that point been the quietest of the bunch. At thirty-seven, Hopper was a few years older than Davin, but he was remarkably handsome. Most people at the Debtor’s Haven had given him a second look.
He interested Reece because he’d proven so hard to read, and had been completely unforthcoming. She didn’t get the sense that he was shy or antisocial. He simply seemed to take in everything around him and give nothing back.
“As you know,” Hopper said in a velvety-smooth voice that was as attractive as the rest of him, “Rum and Cork manufactures rum and a handful of signature wines. It was the wines that drew me. I grew up on a vineyard and had always loved the science of growing grapes and how they could be processed. I went into agri-science, but never went corporate. I worked supply side, you know, keeping my hands dirty on the real stuff in life. I made contacts over time, and when a position opened up at Rum and Cork, it was offered to me. I took it. Pretty simple.”
“How wonderful to be able to develop a childhood passion into a lifelong one,” Marky said. “That’s a rare thing.”
That brought them around to Jillsen. When she noticed everyone looking at her, she tilted her head, letting her hair cover part of her face. Almost as if she were trying to hide. “Nothing interesting about my story. A48 has been in the family for decades. I’m the sixth generation to run it.”
“But that is interesting,” Sage said. “A family business that can compete in our corporate culture is a rarity.”
Jillsen’s cheeks flushed a becoming pink color. She let out a self-conscious laugh. “It helps that we’re a niche business. Too small-batch for the corporations to bother with. I imagine that’s why all your companies have flourished, as well.”
Kelia waved off Jillsen’s opinion. “Speak for yourself, girl. I’ve made my company thrive out of sheer force of will.”
Jillsen ducked her head.
Marky swirled the dregs of her whiskey in the bottom of her glass. “We all depend on luck, though. Or fortune, if you want to call it that. Right place, right time, and the tenacity and know-how to make it all work. To thrive on Akon, a person has to be able to put all those things together. Failure’s an accident, but success never is.”
She lifted her glass. “So here’s a toast to all of you,who have managed to win at life. And in the process, you’ve produced liquid consolation for all the people who haven’t won.”
With some laughter and shouts of agreement, the assemblage raised their glasses, then took a drink.
“Should we play gin now?” Marky asked, grinning.
Not everyone knew the game, so after a brief—but effective—explanation, Marky dealt the electronic cards.
Each player had a display in front of them, though if they all had the Link, they’d be able to play without the readout. Asking if someone had the Link was generally considered a rudely invasive question, and Marky was careful not to irritate her customers—even if they were only pretend customers, invited for a particular agenda.
That detail didn’t even matter for Marky, who no doubt would find a way to spin this evening into something advantageous for herself down the road.
Two hours into the evening, Reece got bored. Yeah, sure, she was keenly observing their guests and all that, but watching people sit and play cards did not entertain her in the slightest. The long minutes ticking by felt like the times she’d sat in a car during a stakeout, feeling as if time was trying to rupture itself by mere strength of boredom.
Reece needed some excitement. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, an argument broke out behind her between a pair of young men.
“Hey, that’s my flipper game.”
“You left.”
“I had to pee. I came right back.”
“Sorry, man.”
And then they were rolling around on the floor. Reece probably shouldn’t be so grateful for a stupid ego-driven brawl, but at least breaking it up was something to do.
She grabbed one of the young punks pulling his elbows behind his back, while Trey grasped the other by his jacket and dragged him toward the door.
“He’s gone now,” her unwilling charge complained. “You can let me go now.”
“Oh, nuh uh,” Reece argued. “As soon as Trey tells me it’s clear, you’re going right out that door, too. This is not the place for that kind of garbage. You’ll be lucky if Marky ever lets you back in here.”
“He took my machine!” the guy shrilled.
Ugh. Regardless of whether the other guy was still outside on the sidewalk or not, Reece pushed the whiny brat toward the door.
Out he went, and Trey came back into the betting lounge. Reece was a little disappointed that there hadn’t been a bigger ruckus that could have kept her busy a little longer, but then she noticed both the disgruntled looks of Marky’s bouncers and the interested expressions on the faces of the people she was investigating.
Yeah, she wasn’t exactly blending in as part of the scenery.
Reece grabbed her empty tray and marched back to the kitchen under the guise of getting more beverages to serve.
When she returned, she was surprised to find Sage waiting for her near the entrance that led back to Marky’s private rooms and the kitchen.
“Thirsty?” Reece offered him the tray, smiling.
He ignored the short tumblers of rum. “No, thanks. I’m curious. Why did you handle that fight? I thought you were a server.”
“I’m not a regular employee at all,” she said, going with honesty because it would have more of a ring to it. “More of a friend who occasionally helps Marky out. She didn’t trust just anyone to be discreet enough to work this event, so I volunteered.”
“And what’s your regular job?” he asked.
She couldn’t decide what was behind his interest in her. Just a guy with his eye on a girl? Or was it something else?
“Corporate,” she said vaguely.
“Muscle?” he pressed. “Some variety of bodyguard or security?”
She nodded. “Close enough.”
“And you’re moonlighting. Making a little money on the side, with a friend’s help.”
She liked that story. It worked logistically and didn’t open her up to possible suspicion. “Sure. Who couldn’t use a little extra money? Especially for something as easy as handing out drinks and making sure nobody gets rowdy and causes embarrassment.” She offered him the tray again. “Sure you don’t want one? It’s some of Rum and Cork’s best. A good way to sample the competition, right?”
She gave him a cheeky smile. The kind of expression that said, I like you. I’m on your side.
e vision, but she ignored it. She didn’t even swipe it away, because someone like Sage might recognize the tiny motion.
“Do you do any security consulting?” Sage asked.
“What do you mean?” She shifted the tray to her other hand.
“I’m actually looking to install a security department in my company. We’re big enough now that we could use it, rather than just subcontractors from a specialty firm. I’d like to have my own people, you know?”
“And you think I can help you with that?” Reece chuckled. “All you know is that I’m moonlighting for some extra credits. What if that indicates I’m not good enough to get a job that pays sufficiently?”
Sage grinned, and she had to hand it to him—he had a good grin. Boyish, though he was a few years older than her, with just enough knowing mischief to make him interesting. And a certain glint in his eye made her feel like he liked her personally.
He was good. Her estimation of him rose, even as her defenses strengthened.
“Let me take that.” He took the tray from her and set it on a table. “I get a lot of invitations, and I turn most of them down. Why do you think that is?”
He was testing her now. If she wasn’t careful, she might start to like this guy.
She could play dumb and make him lose interest. Or she could go toe-to-toe with him and maybe forge personal relationship.
She’d go toe-to-toe. “Well, let’s see. Because you know of Marky, and the Debtor’s Haven. Because you know how lucrative it is, and how any partnership with it could only be good for you. Because your brand is young and edgy, and so are you, and you’re always on the lookout for opportunities.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “Oh. And because it was the most interesting offer you’ve had in a while, and you thought it might actually be fun.”
She crossed her arms and smiled at him knowingly. Then she decided to take a risk. “A couple people did turn the invitation down, though. Their loss, right?”
“Oh?” his interest, as anticipated, had been piqued. “Who didn’t come?”
“Well, I can’t tell you that, now can I? I’m a stickler for confidentiality. But I’m sure you can figure it out. Who would belong in this group, but isn’t here?”
“H&P. They’ve got the premium market in whiskey nailed down. But Nizhoni’s notoriously offensive. I can’t see her enjoying something like this, and what’s more, if she were here, the evening would be far less pleasant. Who else?”
She stared at him, wordless.
“Wimzer?” he asked.
She dropped her gaze and rolled a shoulder.
“I hate that guy,” Sage muttered. “His vodka barely even qualifies as premium, but he markets it that way. Mostly it’s his add-ins that people like. The mixers. He tries to push into my territory, but why should people pay for an inferior product that only masks the alcoholic taste instead of simply not having one?”
She’d found a sore spot, apparently. She tucked this information away.
He shook his head, as if shaking off negative thoughts. “Anyway, to get back to your question. The reason I think you’d be helpful is that Marky found you helpful. She’s well-known for having her ear to the ground and knowing her business. If she thinks you’re valuable, then I have no doubt that you are.”
Fair enough. At least he had more going for his thought process than liking how she looked.
“We could do an initial consultation,” she said. “A thousand credits an hour for the time I need to research your company, and for a two-hour consult.”
“I knew it. You’re good.”
“Or I’m hustling you,” she pointed out. “Look at where you are and think carefully about how well friends of Marky’s can run a hustle.”
Rather than appear to be taken aback, he seemed delighted. “You wouldn’t tell me you might be running a hustle if you were actually running one.”
“I might. The point is, you don’t know.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “You don’t even know my name.”
“I was pretty sure you wouldn’t give it,” he said.
He’d been right.
“Marky will vouch for me. Arrange a consultation through her. At the time of our engagement, I’ll tell you my name for the legal documents.”
“Legal documents?” he asked.
“I’ll need details about your company in order to give you worthwhile advice. The kind of stuff you’ll want me contractually obligated not to spill to your competitors, or the public at large.”
He smiled. “Of course. And only a true professional would think that far ahead.”
She picked up her tray, judging that this was the best possible time to extricate herself from this exchange. “Oh, I always think three steps further ahead than the person I deal with. That’s why I always win.”
She walked away with a wee bit of swagger. A touch of hubris would be like ambrosia to him. He wouldn’t be able to stay away.
If he knew anything, even tangentially, about what had happened to H&P’s distillery, she’d eventually be able to get it out of him.
She returned to the card table and circled it, offering drinks.
One down. She only had five more suspects to crack.
* * * * *
“Your real boss won’t mind if you moonlight?” Trey asked as they walked to the metro station after Marky’s soiree.
“Not if it’s in the process of doing my job for him.” Reece, like Trey, carefully avoided using the company name on the busy street.
“Even if you make money at it?”
She shrugged. “A job is a job. If I provide a genuine service, I deserve to get paid. As long as it doesn’t cause a conflict of interest, I’m golden.”
“And do you plan to provide a genuine service?”
She glanced around to see if anyone was listening or following them. “Presumably. The request seemed legit. How did you do with Jillsen?”
Trey grimaced. “I tried chatting her up, but mostly she blushed and hid behind her hair. I didn’t get anywhere.”
“I think you did,” Reece argued. “She watched you. She liked you. She’s just shy, apparently. Or maybe just lacking in self-confidence. Either way, you should follow up.”
“And the others?” he asked.
“We’ll have to see what we can do. Maybe Jillsen or Sage will give us something to work with.”
“This one’s me,” Trey stopped on the sidewalk, pointing at the metro station.
“You need to move someplace not so remote.”
“It’s tough to find an apartment that will allow a monkey to live there,” he said.
“So rent a house. There’s one down the street from me. Tenant just moved to a downtown apartment.”
“You want me to be your neighbor?” He seemed pleased by the idea.
“It would be convenient. You could just walk over, and we’d be on the same metro lines.”
“Send me the address and the contact info for renting,” he said. “I’ll take a look.”
“There are people whose actual job is helping others find a place to live. They’re called real estate agents.”
He snorted. “You made the suggestion. You get cranky when you’ve been on your feet all night.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“I’ll send them.” She waved and started out for her own metro station, two blocks away.
Reece felt unusually tired. Maybe it was all the unanswered questions, and a lack of a clear lead suspect. In any case, she was looking forward to the diversion with Sage’s company.
* * * * *
“I’m disappointed.” Schramm Matthews frowned at Reece and Trey as they sat across from him in his office. “I’d hoped you’d be much further along in your investigation.”
Reece didn’t let it show, but Schramm’s criticism, however mild, stung. She’d become accustomed to receiving only praise.
&
nbsp; “Sometimes a suspect is obvious. Sometimes it isn’t. Unfortunately, this is one of the times that the machinations behind the actions aren’t obvious.” She held back from saying more, not wanting her bruised pride to make her say something she’d regret later.
Schramm let out a slow breath in an apparent effort to temper his displeasure. “I understand. I guess I’ve just become spoiled to your efficiency.” He smiled. “I’m sure you’ll figure out who’s responsible soon.”
“Why is it so important? It’s just a distillery.” Sure, it was impertinent of her to ask, but if there was something important about H&P, from Rexcare’s perspective, it might help her to know why.
Schramm frowned thoughtfully. “There’s a product we’ve been hoping to develop—when the proper technology was in place. We’re on the verge of finally getting it all in line. Needless to say, the board of directors is displeased that something could get in the way of such long-anticipated planning.”
“Ah.” Reece nodded. “You’re getting pressure from the top. Makes sense. Is there any way for you to give me any details about what industry we’re talking about? I feel like I’m missing some information that could really help me in knowing where to look.”
Schramm hesitated.
“The more I know, the faster I can figure out who attacked H&P, why, and then ensure that they aren’t a threat to Rexcare’s plans,” she pointed out.
After a long pause, he acknowledged her with a nod. “All right. I can tell you it’s a medicinal purpose, right in line with our core business.”
Reece exchanged a look with Trey. She’d hoped for more. Still, it was more than she’d had before. “Okay. We’ll keep that in mind while we dig deeper.”
“Do you have any gut instincts?” Schramm asked. “Even if you haven’t found the connection yet?”
He must be desperate for answers if he was asking that. She’d never known him to be so invasive. Plus, she hadn’t even been working on it for long. There had been corporate spy jobs that had taken her months of careful planning to execute. Whatever they wanted to do with H&P whiskey, it was certainly important to Rexcare.