She nodded, glad to be back on track but also sick at heart at the imminent turn in her tale. Her face flushing with heat, she kept her eyes trained on the page as she got to that time five years ago when Gloria was twice passed over for promotion and ended up feeling so hurt and bitter. As that was also the time Kelsey had undercut Cole in the deal to finance Lou, she was afraid Flash might make some snide comment that would once again refer to their prior relationship. But he either had sense enough at that point to keep it to himself or he hadn’t realized their breakup was connected with that specific series of events because he didn’t say a word.
Finally, she brought them to one year ago, when her father had a stroke and the company’s value began to plummet. She described the path that had eventually led the firm to hire a public relations group to restore consumer confidence by promoting Kelsey as the newest Tate with the golden touch. Moving along in time, she explained how Gloria had most likely been in talks with Pamela Greeley of Queen’s Fleet Management Group at some point in the past few weeks, and how she had apparently done an about-face with Rupert Brennan and sent him an anonymous letter encouraging him to come to Tuesday’s ceremony—probably to drive down the value of the company and thus make it more viable for a takeover by Pamela.
She had included a copy of the letter Gloria had sent to Rupert, and she paused to let them read it now. When they were done, she went on to reveal how Walter had been contacted by Queen’s Fleet on Monday afternoon, at which point they had made an offer to buy B & T. She described how Gloria had been all for it and how she and Walter had fought, and then how Gloria went home early but got a call later that night, one that upset her greatly and brought her back to the office, where she stayed until morning.
Weary from the telling, Kelsey took a deep breath and tried to stretch her neck by tilting her head from side to side. The closer she came to the death, the harder this was for her.
She pressed onward regardless, describing Gloria’s odd behavior just prior to the ceremony on Tuesday afternoon. Then she went through the whole Rupert disturbance and the conversation with him afterward. Finally, her voice flat, she explained how at 5:52 p.m. on Tuesday evening, Gloria sent Kelsey a suicide note via text and then apparently hung herself from a cord attached to the projection screen in the executive conference room. At that point, the others around the table had grown so silent and still that she could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall.
“There’s also a chance her death wasn’t…” Kelsey’s voice trailed off. She cleared her throat and tried again. “The police are still investigating, but they haven’t yet said whether it was a suicide or a homicide.”
That earned a grunt from Thriller, but he didn’t comment.
“Anyway,” she said, “I’ve spent almost all of my time since then gathering the facts I’ve just gone through with you guys.” She went on to describe how Walter kicked her out of the company and his reasoning behind it. Glancing at Cole, she was gratified to see an expression of outrage on her behalf.
She concluded with the last two matters of importance: the status of the hostile takeover, which was in the air pending a meeting and vote by the stockholders, and the conversation with her father about the bonds, when he told her Gloria had been in charge of their safekeeping and that wherever they were, it had something to do with what he’d called “The wonder.”
“The wonder?” Flash asked.
“The wonder,” Thriller mused, and she could tell that he was thinking the name over closely.
“And so,” she said as she turned to the final page of the handout, “this is where we are now. You’ll see on the last page that I’ve written out a long list of questions. And while I certainly don’t expect you guys to answer every one of these, I thought the more clearly I spelled out exactly what I need to know, the more easily you can figure out which aspects you’d like to tackle and how you want to approach things.”
With that she looked from Thriller to Flash to Cole, focusing in on Cole’s gorgeous green eyes. “I’m so grateful for your offer to help, but now that you see what we’re up against, I’ll understand if you want to take a pass after all.”
Cole’s eyes widened, and to her surprise he reached out and placed a warm, comforting hand on top of hers.
“If anything, Kels, I’m even more determined to help you now than I was before. You weren’t kidding when you said things were a mess. There’s no way you should have to figure all of this out by yourself.”
As he spoke, he looked to the other two guys, who were both nodding vigorously. Cole removed his hand, but the warmth of it lingered.
“Do you think there are parts of this that you can jump in and tackle?” she asked hopefully. “I know you’re used to digging up info on investments, not on things like inside traitors or stolen identities or potential homicides, but I’m hoping maybe there’s enough crossover here that you could at least do a little.”
“I think we can do a lot,” Thriller said, standing and going over to the dispenser to freshen his coffee.
Flash nodded. “Several avenues of approach have already occurred to me.”
She looked again to Cole, who gave her a reassuring smile.
“Kelsey, our company is what you might call, uh, unique. This team truly is more than capable of meeting your challenge.”
“So you really can help me after all?”
“You bet we can,” Cole replied. “Looks to me like you need all the help you can get.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Within an hour the group had managed to hammer out a full plan of attack. Each member of the team would be focusing on a different aspect of the investigation according to their expertise or access. Kelsey had been charged with two tasks. First, she was to secure some sort of detailed plans or blueprints of the B & T building so that the guys could study them for any logical places where a hidden safe may have been built into the walls. That shouldn’t be too hard. From what she could recall, there was a set of plans in her father’s home office, acquired a few years ago when they were considering a remodel of the sixth floor at B & T. And though there was no longer any need for that home office to exist, as far as Kelsey knew, it had remained untouched and completely intact.
Her other task was to confront Pamela Greeley, if possible, about her intentions with the takeover and her ties to Gloria. While they were all still there in the conference room making their plans, Kelsey called Pamela’s office to ask for an appointment but had to leave a message.
Cole would be focusing on financials—of B & T and Queen’s Fleet—while Flash would work on a plan for getting a look at Gloria’s recent digitally recorded activities before she died. Finally, Thriller would cover the bonds, from their original acquisition to their current location. More than once she’d heard him mumble “the wonder” as if he had an idea about what that might mean but couldn’t quite remember what it was.
The only part of the plan that made Kelsey nervous was the fact that they needed her to get into the Brennan & Tate offices after hours, both to facilitate a digital search and to conduct a physical one. Cole and Thriller both felt strongly that there might be a safe hidden somewhere in the office, and if so that it would probably contain the bonds—if they existed. She wasn’t crazy about sneaking in against the wishes of the CEO, but in her heart she knew Walter was wrong to keep her away, dead wrong. If her father were still active and involved, he would have kicked Walter to the curb by now for even suggesting that Kelsey be banned from the family company. She had every right to go back in there and do what she needed to do.
“Can you suggest an optimum time?” Cole asked. “We need to get you in there when the place is empty, but we don’t want to look suspicious by doing it in the middle of the night or something.”
Kelsey thought for a moment. “Gloria’s wake is this evening, and I’m sure most of B & T’s management will be there. I thought I’d put in an appearance, but I don’t have to stay long. I c
an be punctual, and most of them will probably come in a little later.”
“Good,” Cole said. “When does it start?”
“It runs six to nine.”
“Perfect. Show up right at six and let them all see you there, but then get back over here as soon as you can, let’s say by seven at the latest, and we’ll all head down to the financial district together.”
“Okay. Sounds good. Should I dress in black? Maybe bring along a ski mask or something?”
Cole smiled. “Slow down, James Bond. You’re not breaking in and hopping over laser beams and rappelling down walls. You’re an employee and a family stockholder of Brennan & Tate, and you’ll be walking in the door like a regular person—well, you’ll be walking in the back door. Coming in through the front might be pushing it.”
They decided then that they would adjourn until this evening, with everyone working hard between now and then to accomplish their goals. With that, Flash and Thriller grabbed up one more load of pastries and disappeared to their respective offices while Cole offered to give Kelsey a quick tour before she left.
“Yes, please, I’d love that,” she said, putting away her papers and then falling into step beside him.
Thornton Resources didn’t have a lot of square footage, but they made the most of what they had. Cole explained that they were a small outfit of just twelve employees, but that by keeping the overhead reasonably low and having a talented, tight-knit staff that worked well together meant no duplication and no wasted efforts.
“We’re a lean, mean resource machine,” he quipped. “And we’ve accomplished a lot of exciting things in just the few years we’ve been in business.”
“Good for you, Cole,” she said, meaning it. “That’s awesome.”
As the owner of the company, he had the corner office, one with twice the windows and even more sunshine than in reception. Stepping inside, Kelsey felt at once that the pleasing space was both completely foreign and incredibly familiar—on the desk, his old Yankee Stadium pencil holder, on the shelves, his A to Z bookends and his little aquarium. She couldn’t help but do a quick scan of the room for pictures or some evidence of his life outside these walls. But the only framed photo in the whole place was one she knew well: sixteen-year-old Cole posing with a gold medalist at the ’96 Summer Olympics in Atlanta.
Unable to stop herself, Kelsey picked up the photo and studied it for a long moment. She and Cole had first met just a few weeks after that shot had been taken. How she missed the boy with the easy smile and the beautiful eyes.
“That was the same summer I joined the youth group,” Cole said, noting her interest.
“I remember,” she replied, placing it back on the desk. “Feels like yesterday sometimes, doesn’t it?”
He nodded, eyeing her strangely. “Sometimes. Though usually it’s the opposite, as though it were a lifetime ago.”
She nodded and glanced away, feeling suddenly shy. To cover her discomfort, she crossed the sunny room to the small tank on the shelf and bent to peer at the goldfish inside.
“That’s not still Ginnie Mae, is it?”
“No, she died last year. That’s Fannie Mae, and the other one is—”
“Let me guess, Freddie Mac?”
“Nope. Roi.”
“Roy?”
He grinned. “With an i. R-O-I.”
Kelsey chuckled. Only Cole would name a fish after the primary goal of everyone in their line of work, Return On Investment.
“Come on,” he said warmly. “I’ll walk you out.”
She wished she could just ask him if he was married, what his life was like these days, but she couldn’t come up with a subtle way to get around to it and finally gave up thinking about it for now.
They headed back through the hallway together, and though she thought he’d only go as far as the front door, he stayed with her all the way down the stairs and even to the outside. He pointed toward the nearest subway entrance and then laughed and said, “Wait. I guess you already knew that. You took it to get here.”
Turning to face him, Kelsey wished she could think of some way to prolong their conversation. Somehow, standing in the circle of his gaze was much warmer and more comforting than the cold, empty place her own world had become.
“So tell me, what’s up with nicknames like Thriller and Flash? Does everybody at Thornton Resources have one?”
Cole smiled. “Flash is short for Flasininski. His parents were Russian defectors during the Cold War. I’ve heard rumors they worked for the CIA and that’s where he learned all of his skills, but he won’t say either way.”
“Wow. How about Thriller?”
“Believe it or not, that’s his real name. His mother was a big Michael Jackson fan, and the song had just come out when he was born.”
Stepping closer to avoid a double-wide stroller barreling toward her on the sidewalk, Kelsey said, “So what nickname do they call you? Coleslaw? Colby Cheese? The Colester?”
Eyes twinkling, he studied her face for a long moment.
“None of the above,” he replied, grinning. “In fact, if they know what’s good for them, they won’t call me anything but ‘Boss.’”
They parted after that with another hug, this one lingering slightly longer than the one before.
“Thank you again,” she whispered before pulling away.
Cole shrugged modestly, told her he would see her tonight, and turned to go inside.
Kelsey could still feel his strong arms around her as she walked to 8th Avenue and got on the subway. Twenty minutes later, telling herself to take her mind off Cole Thornton and focus on the task at hand, she got off at 5th and 53rd and walked to Park Avenue. There she turned and headed upward toward the offices of Queen’s Fleet Management Group several blocks away.
No one had gotten back to her yet from Pamela’s office, and she had a feeling no one would, at least not anytime soon. Better to drop in on the woman unannounced, she’d decided, and shame her into giving Kelsey at least a few minutes of her time.
She spotted the building up ahead and slowed down, using the rest of the walk to review in her mind the points she intended to make. Though Pamela Greeley was past the usual retirement age of sixty-five, that didn’t mean she was past her prime when it came to business strategy. The woman was as shrewd as they came, and Kelsey knew she was about to face a formidable opponent.
Even so, right now she felt empowered after her morning at Thornton Resources. For the first time she was starting to believe she might have some influence over the situation. She realized that Cole’s belief in her had instilled this new confidence. He was so kind, so dependable, so good. There weren’t many good men left in the world, and she was glad she had one on her side now.
Kelsey reached the entrance to QFMG’s corporate headquarters, in which everything shouted success and prosperity. The huge lobby with its luxurious ambiance, Persian carpets, and period furnishings set the tone. Just the open space there spoke volumes about the company’s wealth. Square footage was at a premium in Manhattan, particularly on Park Avenue, and a company with this much open space was just plain flaunting its affluence.
Kelsey approached the receptionist, whose vast walnut desk could have accommodated a board meeting all by itself. As expected, when she asked to see Pamela Greeley, the response was, “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but if you let her know I’m here, I think she’ll see me anyway. Tell her it’s Kelsey Tate of Brennan & Tate.” She held her chin high and met the receptionist’s stare, surprised to see that the young woman’s eyes were violet. Nobody on the planet had eyes that color. What was the point of tinted contacts if everyone could tell they were fake?
“I’ll see if Ms. Greeley has time.”
Kelsey nodded and then stepped a few feet away from the desk as the receptionist picked up the phone to call upstairs. At least Pamela was in the building. Now the question was if she’d have the nerve to sit face-to-face with the heir apparent of a company s
he was trying to steal out from under her.
From what Kelsey could tell, the receptionist had to navigate through several layers of administrative assistants before she got the final word and hung up the phone.
“Twentieth floor, Ms. Tate. Ms. Greeley is expecting you.”
Ah, yes, the penthouse suite. Kelsey had been there several years ago with Gloria for a meeting. She entered the elevator now with two perky young women carrying stacks of files and giggling with each other about whether a certain coworker had really left his keys in her office by mistake or whether he’d done it intentionally so he’d have to come back for them later.
Trying to tune them out, Kelsey kept a neutral smile on her face until they exited at the eighth floor. Once she was alone, she tried to calm her nerves by studying the elevator car itself, which was lined with what appeared to be genuine cherry paneling in old growth wide boards. All the fittings were of gleaming brass, with fine art prints recessed into the side walls. They were prints, weren’t they? Who would put original paintings in an elevator? Kelsey squinted at the nearest one but couldn’t tell.
She could, however, continue to hear the screams of the decor: Success! Prosperity!
Good grief.
As the doors opened at the penthouse level, Kelsey was surprised to see that Pamela was standing there waiting for her. The older woman stepped forward and shook her hand, smiling politely. Even in her late sixties or early seventies, she was striking. Her honey-colored hair looked as if it had never heard the word “gray,” and her complexion was flawless. Pamela was wearing a navy power suit with a red silk scarf, and for a moment Kelsey felt inadequate in her azure silk dress sans jacket.
“Kelsey, how wonderful to see you. I got your message earlier and was trying to figure out when I could meet with you.”
Sure you were, Kelsey thought, but she gave a gracious smile.
“Anyway, here you are regardless.”
“Thank you for seeing me, Pamela. I decided to stop by without an appointment in the hopes that we could talk.”
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