by Melissa Good
“That lawsuit has nothing to do with the facts,” Dar shot back. She whirled and pointed to several members. “Since when does this slut festival care who the hell I’m sleeping with? Give me one example of one single time at any single moment that the fact that Kerry Stuart and I are lovers hurt the company.” She raised her voice. “Give me one!”
Total silence.
“You big bunch of sanctimonious, useless pig farts!” Dar roared.
“Between the two of us we run the fucking company. So drop the goddamn bullshit and put the cards on the table.” She slammed her hand on the surface and sounded like a shot. “Fire me, and so help me God, I will take this company down.” She glared at all of them “You want trouble?
You have no idea what kind of trouble I can make. I know skeletons in closets so deep even the fucking Anthropological Society couldn’t find them.” She paced around the chair. “I know all the hiring for tit size, the payoffs to the Feds, the deliberate exclusion of minorities—you name it, I know it, I’ve lived in it for fifteen years and there is no,” she pointed at Ankow, “no single goddamned corner of this company that I haven’t been in.”
“Dar,” Alastair stood and held a hand out, palm down, “let’s just back it down a little.”
Dar gave him a murderous glare.
“Please.” The CEO took a breath. “Bottom line, Dar is right.”
“Figures you support her. You’re probably screwing her,” Ankow muttered.
300 Melissa Good
“I should be so lucky,” Alastair responded shortly. “The facts of the matter are, gentlemen, that none of us are saints and, operationally speaking, we are in better shape with the present management than we have been in a number of years.”
“Bet the shareholders won’t think so when you announce the loss this quarter,” Evans snapped. “I hope they tar and feather your ass.” He stood. “When that lawsuit goes public with the quarter results we’ll lose the company.”
“Not this quarter,” Alastair replied quietly. “José just signed a four hundred million dollar contract to provide backbone services to a consor-tium of ISP’s.”
Absolute, dead shocked silence—even from Dar.
“Running, of course, on Dar’s new network, which is the only one in the country capable of it.” He paused. “Gentlemen, we are the Internet.”
He drew a breath. “Congratulations, Dar. That was the shortest cost of doing business assessment in the history if ILS.”
Son of a bitch. Dar was speechless, the anger in her guts still boiling, but having no where to go. “Thanks,” she finally muttered. She’d known she was making the right decision on the network, but being vindicated so quickly hadn’t been a thought of hers. She felt mostly disgusted, and tired, not even a little bit triumphant. “Can we dump the bullshit now?”
“Oh no.” Ankow met her gaze. “I’m not nearly through with you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t care what they put on that network. I’m not going to back off exposing you for the poison you are.”
“Funny you should put it like that.” Dar dropped her amused attitude and went very serious. She started around the table towards him.
“Speaking of poison,” her eyes found his and held, for a very long moment, “makes me wonder what your game is here.” She circled him, like a shark would, lazily testing the waters. “Why would a jockstrap lawyer from Oregon latch onto an IS company and try to take control of it?”
“None of your fucking business,” he snarled back. “Maybe I just want to give the stockholders some value for their money.”
“Maybe you just remembered that old maxim. Knowledge is power.
Only,” Dar circled him again, “in the IS world we say, data is power.” She paused. “Now, why would a turnip like you be interested in us?”
Everyone was watching her now.
“Maybe it’s for your daddy, hmm?” Dar stopped in front of him, so they were nose to nose. “Daddy—the leader of the White Power Militia in Oregon?”
His expression changed, becoming dark and dangerous. “I have nothing to do with my father.”
“Don’t you?” Dar smiled, then walked around to her laptop and clicked on her mail, opening a file. She turned her laptop around to face them. “Funny. You sure look alike.”
The board members leaned over to peer at the shot, one of Ankow and an older man in fatigues, with racist banners wrapped around them.
Eye of the Storm 301
Both men had fists upraised in salute. “You should read some of his man-ifestos—interesting stuff.” She straightened. “Especially that plan of his to target specific companies and do industrial sabotage.”
Ankow gave her a deadly look.
“Wonder what the stockholders would think of that?” Now, finally, Dar’s smile returned. “What do you figure would piss them off more? A dyke or a Nazi?”
“You bitch.”
Dar keyed in another file. “Especially a Nazi who was being paid off on the side by Roger Stuart to get his daughter fired.” Now the murderous glare was hers, directed at him. “And who was stupid enough to put the details of it into a computer tied to my network.”
The looks of shock echoed across the huge table. Dar felt exhausted and she rubbed the back of her neck. “Tell you what. I’m going to get a glass of milk, and you think about it.” She turned and walked to the front door of the chamber, let herself out, and headed directly down the corridor towards the kitchen without a backwards glance.
Not hearing the door open and close softly behind her.
“MS. STUART, THIS hearing is intended to bring to light any and all information regarding the allegations against your father.” The prosecutor regarded her with neutral interest. “I’ll be asking you questions, but any of these gentlemen can do so as well. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Kerry folded her hands on the table and waited. The senate committee was to one side of her, making notes, and whispering amongst themselves. Then the prosecutor, or more properly the investigator, had his little table, then her father and his lawyers were seated at another little table at an angle to her.
“Fine. All right.” The man looked at his notes. “You are currently living in Miami, Florida, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“How much support do you get from your father, in dollars, on a monthly basis?”
“None.”
The man looked up at her. “Are you sure, Ms. Stuart?”
“Yes, quite sure, thanks,” Kerry replied.
“No presents, then? No cars, boats, mink stoles?” The sarcasm was biting.
“No. I buy my own cars and boats, and I have no idea what I would I do with a mink stole in Miami.” Kerry returned the volley.
“So you’re saying you live on your own?”
“I live with a roommate,” she corrected.
“But you pay all your own bills?”
I try to. “Yes.”
Shuffling of papers. “When did you last live with your parents, Ms.
Stuart?”
302 Melissa Good
“Four and a half years ago.”
“That was while you were attending college?”
“Yes.”
“Which, I take it, your parents paid for?”
“Actually,” Kerry cleared her throat, “I went on scholarship.” True, though her parents had paid for everything else, including her clothes, and books. Spending money, on the other hand had come from her part-time job in the campus bookstore.
“Lucky you.” The man leafed through a few sheets. “While you were living with your parents, did you have any reason to suspect your father was involved in illegal activities?”
Kerry considered that question seriously. “No,” she finally answered, meeting his eyes. “I didn’t.”
“Really? You seem like an intelligent young woman. Are you saying you never once saw anything you thought was out of the ordinary?”
Kerry’s pale eyebrow lift
ed slightly. “Define ordinary,” she replied.
“Ordinary for you is probably not ordinary for me, given who my father is and the media spotlight our lives were generally held in.” She went on before he could comment. “It never crossed my mind, no, that my father was involved in any breech of the law.”
“Why not?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why not, Ms. Stuart? Isn’t that what politicians do, nowadays?”
The investigator circled her and leaned on the table. “Almost to be expected, don’t you think?”
Kerry studied his face, which was not unpleasant to look at. Given the last few years in politics, with what had gone on and the circus the leadership of the nation had become, he was probably more right than wrong. But she shrugged. “Honestly, it’s not something I spend a lot of time thinking about.”
He stood up and lifted a hand towards her. “Or you weren’t encouraged to think about it.”
Maybe. Kerry thought back to her younger years. Politics were something her father had never, ever discussed with her, or her sister, or even Michael. On the other hand, since she’d left home, the subject had never interested her either. She shrugged. “I think I just have drastically lowered expectations.” Ooo. The guys on the council didn’t like that.
“So, you’re saying it is something you’d expect someone like your father to do?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You said you had drastically lowered expectations, did you not?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“That is what you said, wasn’t it?”
“I said I don’t expect politicians to have a higher standard of conduct than anyone else,” Kerry clarified.
“Ah, but shouldn’t they, Ms. Stuart? After all, we elect them to be our representatives, to act in our best interests, after all. Don’t we?”
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“Yes, but as far as I know, sir, they aren’t a different species.” This guy was starting to annoy her. “Most of the time people act in their best interests, not someone else’s, so the fact that elected officials act like the rest of us does not, sir, surprise me.”
“Interesting. And yet, you stated that you had no inkling of an idea that your father was…allegedly…accepting bribes, maintaining an entirely different family, and consorting with racists.” He paused. “Were you, then, not surprised to hear the allegations when they came out?”
“Yes, I was surprised.”
“Why? If politicians are like the rest of us, then why be surprised?
Since you stated you don’t hold them to any high standard, is that right?”
“I don’t.” Kerry paused. “But I do hold my father to higher standards, because he is my father, not because he is a politician. So yes, sir, I was surprised.”
“Interesting double standard, Ms. Stuart. You don’t find that a contradiction?” the lawyer asked shrewdly.
“Life is full of contradictions, sir,” Kerry answered quietly.
He studied her, a faint smile playing across his lips. “Yes, isn’t it?”
They were definitely different. Ceci watched Kerry under questioning, her body language indicating wary alertness and her answers guarded but straightforward. Had it been Dar up there, a smile touched her lips, Dar would have been all over the lawyer, challenging his questions, and dominating the table with her restless energy.
Just like Ceci herself would have been, she admitted privately.
Kerry, on the other hand, preferred a more low keyed, more reasonable attitude that still used her intelligence to make her points with accuracy. I bet she and Dar make quite a team in the office. The ultimate good cop, bad cop routine, with the natural friction that should have been caused by their radically different styles gentled and diffused by the fact that they loved each other.
A motion beside her made her look up to see the short, brown haired man sitting with Kerry’s family taking the seat next to her.
“Hi,” he murmured.
Ceci’s eyebrow lifted. “Hi.” Was this... Yes, Kerry had said this was her brother, Michael. She glanced quickly at the other side of the aisle, but everyone was paying close attention to Kerry, and Michael’s absence hadn’t been noted. “Something you want?”
“Um.” He glanced furtively around and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re here with Kerry Stuart, right?”
“Who’s asking?” Ceci decided to play hardball with him.
His eyes lifted and met hers for a brief minute. “I’m her brother, Michael.”
“Really? I understood she was told she had no family here.”
He winced and looked down. “It’s complicated.”
“No, it’s not. You just need to go find a taxidermist and rent a spine,”
Ceci replied. “If you’ve decided not to talk to her, that’s one thing. But if you’re letting someone else make that choice for you, it’s damn sad.”
They kept their voices down, but her last comment caused Michael’s 304 Melissa Good ears to redden and he swallowed audibly. “I just wanted to find out if she’s okay,” he mumbled.
“Ask her.” Ceci folded her arms implacably.
They listened to the questions of the lawyer and Kerry’s even answers for a minute. Then Michael peeked up at her, his long, dark lashes blinking slightly. “Are you related to Dar, by any chance?”
Ceci’s eyebrows lifted. “What makes you ask?”
He didn’t answer, but the corners of his mouth twitched.
“I’m her mother, yes.”
Michael nodded to himself.
“Is there a problem with that?”
He gave a tiny smile. “No, ma’am.”
The lawyer finished his questions and released Kerry from the table, and they watched as she circled it and headed down the aisle back towards them.
“You going to stay here or run back over there?” Ceci asked.
He stayed. Kerry spotted him as she was almost back to her seat and her eyes widened into a look of wary surprise. “Hi,” she murmured softly as he stood up and faced her, then pulled her into a hug. “How are you?”
Ceci watched a smile cross Kerry’s face as she returned the embrace.
She winked at Kerry and got an even broader grin, complete with a wrinkled nose and the appearance of the very tip of her tongue. Her eyes slipped past the two siblings to a hostile gaze on them from across the aisle and she took the opportunity to lock eyes with the burly, gray haired man seated at the defendant’s table. He jerked, as though startled, then looked away and pointedly turned his back on them.
Kerry and her brother sat down and she laced her fingers with his as they listened to the prosecutor call up Angie. “Thanks for coming over,”
she whispered. “I know you’re in trouble for it.”
“Got a spare room down there in Miami? I’ll bring a sleeping bag,”
Michael whispered back, giving her a forlorn look. “Maybe I can get a job washing the beach sand over there?”
“Absolutely.” Kerry squeezed his hand. “Oh, sorry. Michael, this is Cecilia Roberts. She’s Dar’s mom.”
“We’ve, uh, met.” Michael produced a hesitant smile. “Hi.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Michael,” Cecilia responded cordially. “Nice work up there, Kerry.”
“Thanks.” Kerry sighed and leaned back, tucked as she was between her brother and her new friend, she almost could make herself believe this wasn’t going to be so horrible after all. She noticed several latecom-ers entering and turned to watch them, then heard Michael make a hissing noise. “What?”
“I can’t believe they showed up.”
“Who?” Kerry peered at the new watchers, a woman in her mid-forties with well coifed blonde hair accompanied by two younger people, a man and a woman.
“That’s them,” her brother whispered. “The people Dad’s support-Eye of the Storm 305
ing.”
Oh Lord. “Jesus.” Kerry closed her
eyes.
Cecilia leaned over curiously. “What’s wrong?”
Kerry sighed. “My father’s other woman just came in with her kids.”
She gave Ceci a wry look. “Sorry—this is going to be a circus.”
“Mmm.” Dar’s mother rubbed her earlobe. “I can’t wait to see the lion act in that case.”
Chapter
Thirty-three
DAR SLUMPED IN the padded chair, alone in the small efficiency kitchen tucked away down the hall. Beside her, a fresh pot of coffee bur-bled, filling the room with its rich fragrance, and a cup sat waiting, already loaded with cream and sugar.
She should feel great, she knew. After all, she’d taken a losing situation and turned it around in her favor, winning down and dirty in a convincing way that even Ankow had no defense against.
Maybe she would feel good about it, after her head stopped aching, and she was out of this damn marble shithouse. A wry smile made its way onto her face. Damn, José. I owe you the biggest Argentinean barbecued steak south of the Mason Dixon when I get home, you little Cuban super salesman.
She tilted her head back against the wall and focused her eyes on the doorway, then blinked when it was filled unexpectedly with a tall, burly figure. “Hey.”
Her father padded inside and turned a chair around, sat on it backwards, resting his arms on the back. “Hey, Dardar. You all right?”
“Yeah.” Dar rubbed her eyes. “Just unwinding a little.”
Andrew regarded the tall form sprawled across from him. “Headache?”
Dar nodded.
“Used to get me them, too. Base doctor always told me t’cut down on stress.”
Dar smiled. “Yeah.” She rested her head against her fist. “I was getting them every day there for a while.” She was reluctant to talk about the board meeting. “One more session and we’re outta here, I think.”
“Mmm.” Her father grunted. “You done hollerin’ then?”
Dar felt a moment of surprise and she hesitated, taking in a careful breath. “You heard me?”
“Sure.” Andy didn’t look distressed. “Had the pictures shaking in that damn office, matter of fact.”
The coffee finished and Dar reached over to pour some in her cup, then used the distraction of stirring it to give herself some time to answer.