“Well, for starters, I went to check out Davenport’s condo, and someone had ripped the place apart. It looked like they used a chainsaw.” She pulled up the photos and showed them to Adam, whose expression grew serious.
“That’s ominous. How did you get in?”
“I talked the super into it,” Leah said. “Have you ever seen anything like that?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“I was thinking it was the FBI, but I don’t know. Do they routinely destroy the places they search?”
“Not likely,” he said, his expression darkening. “Speaking of which, I had a drink with my contact at the agency last night.”
Her brow creased. “You did?”
“He called me out of nowhere and said he had half an hour to hang out. We met up at a dive bar in the Tenderloin – seriously skid row, but he didn’t want to be seen, obviously.”
“And? Did you find out what they’re looking for with Richard?”
“That’s where my night got weird, too. He said that he couldn’t tell me a lot, but that the target of the Richard investigation was his investor Marco. He said that we should stay a mile away from him and not dig – that he’s totally mobbed up and a genuine bad guy. Off the record, they’ve been after him for years, and they can’t make anything stick. They were hoping to use Richard to get to him, which is why they were probing his finances and his old deals. Obviously that’s now dead.”
“Did he have any word on the car explosion?”
Adam’s expression hardened and his lips compressed into a thin line. “He made me promise not to leak this before it’s officially released. It wasn’t an accident. But here’s where it gets even stranger: the guy who was killed was the nephew of one of the top mob bosses on the East Coast.”
Leah absorbed that, her eyes wide. “Wait – so Richard had a mobster working for his venture capital firm?”
“Not a mobster per se. But definitely part of the family.”
“Do you think he might have been the target all along?”
Adam shook his head. “Quite the opposite. They think he was killed by accident. The bomb was intended for Richard. No question about that.”
“How can they be sure?”
“He wouldn’t elaborate, but he was adamant.” Adam paused. “Could be the mob who ransacked Richard’s condo. That makes more sense. Looking for something he had on them.”
Leah frowned. “Last night I got a call at nine. It was the head of engineering for Ravstar.”
“You already interviewed the president, didn’t you?”
Leah nodded. “Correct. In the afternoon. He told me this guy was out of town on business for the next week. Turns out that wasn’t true.”
Adam blinked as he processed her news. “What did he want?”
“I drove down to Mountain View and we met in a Denny’s. He was really jittery, Adam. I mean, like, his eyes never stopped looking around. Like he was afraid someone would spot him at any moment.”
“And?”
“He said the company’s a fraud. They’re faking their data, or plan to. But the most alarming part was he claims that some thugs tried to kidnap him so he wouldn’t go public with what he knows.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “You believe him?”
Leah nodded again. “I believe that he believes it. But now that you tell me that Richard was involved with the mob, it starts to be more credible. I couldn’t see why a tech company would get involved in something criminal, but if they’re mob connected, could be somebody made a call and asked someone to take care of a problem. I don’t have a hard time buying that now that I know they were willing to try to kill Richard.” Leah hesitated. “He says that he gave Richard a report proving that the whole thing’s a sham.”
“Damn. That could be the motive for the explosion. Did he say when he gave it to him?”
“No. I didn’t think to ask. It was late and I was beat. But if it was before, there’s your smoking gun.”
“Or Porsche, in this case.”
Leah bit her lower lip and then stood abruptly. “Crap. I need to go.”
“What is it?”
“Marco.”
“What about him?”
“I’ll tell you later. I’ll be back in an hour or so,” she said, grabbing her purse and brushing by him, leaving him to watch her in disbelief.
Leah pushed the CR-V as hard as she could, the road back to Concord mostly open, with traffic headed in the opposite direction. When she reached her apartment, she raced up the stairs and knocked on the door before using her key. Her knock was greeted with the booming bark of an agitated Brutus, and she winced at how loud he was. She unlocked the door and pushed it open just as Heather was emerging from the bedroom, a coffee cup in hand.
“Oh, you scared me,” Heather said. She glared at Brutus. “Brutus, calm down. Get over here. Now.”
The big dog grudgingly obeyed, and Heather led him by the collar to the bedroom and closed the door. “Good morning,” she said to Leah, smoothing her hair.
“Morning. Sorry to intrude, but I just got some news about the FBI,” Leah said.
“Really? What?”
“They were investigating Richard because of his mob connections. You know anything about that?” she asked, her eyes never leaving Heather’s face.
“Mob? As in mafia? Are you pulling my leg?”
“Dead serious. The car was a bomb, not an accident. Richard was involved with the mafia, Heather. His biggest investor, your friend Marco? He’s apparently mob-related, if not actually in it.”
Heather stared at Leah like she wasn’t speaking English. “Marco? Are you serious?”
“I just drove all the way from work to tell you. Do I look like I’m kidding? The FBI was hoping to use Richard to get to Marco. That’s why they were going after him. That’s what this whole thing is about, Heather.”
Heather seemed to deflate and walked unsteadily to one of the two stools at the breakfast bar. She took a seat and gave Leah a horrified look. “Oh, God, Leah. I…I’ve been seeing Marco.”
Leah’s brow shot up. “Seeing?”
Heather wouldn’t meet her eyes. “We’re having an affair.” She took a deep breath. “I knew Richard was cheating on me, so I figured payback…I…oh, God. Do you think that’s why they blew up his car? Do you think it could have been Marco trying to…to get rid of him?”
Leah’s eyes widened as she remembered where she’d seen Marco before. “He…he was driving a Lamborghini up in Napa, wasn’t he? Green?”
Heather gaped at Leah. “How do you know that?”
“He almost ran me down in the gas station.”
“That sounds like him. Yes, he came up the night before.” She paused. “Do you think I’m in any danger?”
Leah thought for several moments. “It probably doesn’t hurt that you’re staying here, but no, I can’t imagine why. I don’t think this has to do with you, Heather. I’m pretty sure it’s about one of Richard’s companies.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. But that’s the way it’s shaping up.” Leah eyed Heather. “Did Richard say anything about a file one of the guys at Ravstar gave him?”
Heather looked confused. “The file Patrick was asking about? No. I told him I have no idea where it is. You think Marco was after it?”
“That’s my theory, but it’s only a theory.”
“But…why?”
“I think Ravstar’s hooked up with Marco in some way. Which means the mob. The more I investigate the company, the shadier it looks.”
Heather nodded slowly. “Damn, that’s right. I remember Richard telling me that Marco brought Ravstar to him.” She stared at her coffee cup with dull eyes. “Why did Richard commit suicide?”
“My hunch is he knew why the FBI was closing in, and he knew that once he was arrested, he was finished. If he rolled on Marco, he was as good as dead. He probably didn’t see any way out.” The sound of Brutus whining from the bedroom interrupt
ed her. “I have to get back to work, but I wanted to tell you about Marco in person.”
“I…I can’t believe I let him…I’m such an idiot. He completely played me.”
Leah didn’t respond. That Heather had decided to pay Richard back by having sex with one of his powerful friends didn’t surprise her. She could guess how her mind worked – feeling worthless because of her husband spurning her, she’d bolstered her self-esteem by sleeping with Marco. If anything, Leah felt sorry for Heather, her self-worth so dependent on what men thought of her that she would go for a guy like that. Leah could see the equation: he was rich, good-looking, flamboyant, and a total alpha male. Whenever Heather was with him, she probably felt like royalty.
“Well, what’s done is done,” Leah said – the hollow words inadequate for the situation, but the only ones she could muster.
“I suppose. Still. I feel so…dirty now.”
“Take a shower,” Leah said, and immediately regretted the harsh retort. “Any more word from the insurance company?” she asked, changing the subject.
“No. That’s one of the things I have on my agenda for today, besides changing the locks. I’ll call them in a few minutes.” Heather cocked her head. “Do you think…do you think if Richard was involved with…criminals, that could give them an excuse not to pay?”
“I don’t think so. Now that Richard is dead, I imagine it’ll be like it never happened as far as insurance is concerned. You didn’t mention it, did you?”
“Of course not. But he was so unpleasant and said they had to investigate…I just figure it might come out.”
“If you haven’t said anything, and they haven’t mentioned it, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Leah said. “Now I have to get going. You sleep okay? Need anything?”
“No. Everything’s good.” She gave Leah a bleak stare. “I completely messed this up, didn’t I?”
“I seriously don’t think this has anything to do with you, Heather. You were…you were just there, you know? It goes way deeper than that.”
Leah left, the revelation that Heather had been sleeping with the mobster an interesting but ultimately unimportant piece of the puzzle, as far as she could tell. Of course Heather would view it through the lens of the universe revolving around her, but Leah didn’t see it that way. Marco had just sensed vulnerability and, like any predator, had pounced. He probably had little interest in Heather other than as a pleasant diversion, or another trophy for his wall.
None of which Leah would share with Heather, who’d already absorbed enough body blows.
Leah just hoped she was right, and that Heather was nothing more than a pawn in a game she’d been unaware of.
Chapter 40
Leah returned to work and organized everything she’d gathered on Ravstar, and then wrote five thousand words detailing Rayansh’s allegations, tying in the suicide of the lead venture partner who’d helped take the company public and threading in rumors of organized crime affiliations supported by the exploding Porsche and the fact that the dead associate had been a mafia don’s nephew. She worked on it throughout the day, tuning it so that it was suitably gripping and yet as factual as she could make it. When she was done in the late afternoon, she presented it to Monte.
She sat in his office as he read it, and when he sat back with a smile, she felt a surge of optimism.
Which was crushed when he spoke.
“It’s a hell of a yarn, but if we publish this, we’ll be sued ten ways from Sunday and be out of business by the time it gets to trial. It’s got everything, Leah – the mob, death, explosions, crooked companies – but there’s no proof. It’s all conjecture based on hearsay and rumor. You know better than that. If not, you do now,” he said.
“I know, Monte. I’m not suggesting we run it. I wanted your take on the overall feeling – the cadence, the reveals, that sort of thing.”
“Oh, it reads like a Ludlum novel, but what it’s missing is evidence. I know that citing unnamed experts and anonymous sources is all the rage in the mainstream media these days, but color me old-fashioned – I like to see something to support the claims other than watercooler gossip.”
“If you like the story, I’ll keep digging. If you think it’s a nonstarter, I can shelve it. I’m fine either way,” Leah said, and meant it. It had been a minor miracle that she’d been able to cobble together anything from her fishing expedition on Heather’s behalf, and she had no emotional attachment to the story other than that it had all the elements of a classic exposé – assuming she could credibly verify it.
“If you can find supporting evidence, you’re game on. Otherwise you’ve just got an interesting conspiracy theory. Sorry, Leah. That’s how I see it.”
“No problem, Monte. I’ll let you know if I come up with something.”
“Do that.”
Leah returned to her cubicle, stumped as to how to proceed. She made a list of Ravstar’s competitors, many of whom were on record stating that they didn’t see how the start-up could deliver on what it had promised, and worked the phones to set up telephone conferences with their press contacts to discuss their concerns about the technology. She spent several hours attempting to locate certifiable experts who could offer third-party assessments, but there were none that weren’t working in the industry, and were as such financially motivated to see Ravstar fail so their own efforts could remain viable.
Adam stopped by at 12:30 and asked her to lunch, and for once she accepted the midday offer. They walked to a New York-style pizza place two blocks away, and Leah filled him in on how her presentation to Monte had gone.
“I’m not surprised, are you?” he said. “It might be fine for one of the papers that features UFOs on the front page every week, but we’re trying to be a bit more elevated than that.”
“Oh, I get it. I’m just not seeing a path forward to put more meat on the bone. I don’t want to write a hatchet job. Either there’s a real problem with the technology, or it’s solid. I can’t be involved in any favoritism, or Ravstar’s going to have a legitimate gripe that I’m repeating the slams of its competitors, absent any proof.”
“It’s a shame you can’t get your Rayansh fellow to create another report for you. If he did it once…”
“He’s scared witless, Adam. He’s already got one foot on the airplane, you can tell. I seriously doubt he’s going to do any more than he already has.”
“I don’t know. He did reach out to you. That was something. Do you have some way of getting in touch with him?”
“Only his company email account, which I’m thinking they’re monitoring, or more likely have closed down by now.”
“How about calling the other engineer you spoke with? It’s a safe bet he’s the one who gave Rayansh your info.”
“I’ve got that as a last resort.”
Adam studied her. “This is probably stupid, but have you tried the phone book?”
Leah stopped mid-bite and her face fell. “I can’t believe I haven’t yet. I’ve been so wrapped up with him being on the lam, and the company channels being blocked…”
“If he’s got voice mail, it might not hurt to leave a message.”
“I’m a moron. I should have done that first thing this morning.”
“Or right after lunch…”
She smiled. “You’re not just a pretty face after all, are you?”
“You haven’t even seen my dance moves. Some say it’s like staring at the sun. Blinding.”
They laughed together. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said. “For now.”
“They call me the Baryshnikov of bits and bytes. The Nureyev of numbers.”
“The MC Hammer of modesty,” she quipped.
He adopted a hurt expression. “Don’t be that way.”
“Seriously, I can’t believe I didn’t check the book.”
“You’ve been chasing a lot of leads. It happens.”
They returned to the office and Leah checked with information. Sure enough, Rayansh
’s number was listed. She dialed it from her landline, and it went to voice mail after four rings. Rayansh’s distinctive voice announced that nobody was available to answer, and then it beeped at her.
“Mr. Dasai, it’s…we met yesterday. Could you please call me as soon as possible? It’s rather important.” She debated leaving a phone number, but her paranoia was in high gear, and she figured he’d still have it from the prior night.
She hung up and checked the Ravstar stock message board to see if there was any information about Rayansh’s resignation, but saw nothing but the usual cheerleading and bashing, the internet’s anonymity reliably bringing out the worst in people. Leah figured that the company would have to make an announcement of his departure sooner than later, but she wasn’t sure what the rules were about timely filing. If her suspicions about Patrick were correct, he might not accept the resignation until after the forthcoming earnings call so he could duck having to disclose that his chief technologist had just jumped ship.
The afternoon passed quickly as she caught up on two of Monte’s stories, reviewing the information he’d emailed her and beginning the long process of finishing her due diligence. By the end of the day she was convinced that those stories weren’t going anywhere, and it would be wasting her time to pursue them. She tapped out a message outlining her findings but hesitated before pressing send, her guilt at having wasted most of a week on Heather’s issue resurfacing for a moment. She banished the doubts and sent Monte the email, and was looking forward to being able to leave work at a decent hour when her cell rang.
Rayansh sounded annoyed when he spoke. “Why did you call my house?” he demanded.
“I need to speak with you,” Leah said, taken by surprise.
“Well, you’re speaking. What is it?”
“I ran the story by my editor. We can’t do anything with it unless I have evidence.” Leah paused. “I was hoping you could recreate the file you gave to Richard. That’s the only way it will see the light of day.”
“I told you I can’t do any more than I already have.”
“You were willing to give him the report. All I’m asking is that you try to do the same for me.”
A Girl Betrayed (A Leah Mason suspense thriller Book 2) Page 23