by Andrea Kane
Inwardly, Marc nodded. Outwardly, he stood quietly as the informant responded to Danijel.
The chief inspector inclined his head at Marc. “I’ll hear from him within the hour,” he reported. “I don’t expect any complications. As for the rest of my conversation, I’m sure you already heard all the details from your interpreter. So go back to the hotel and wait for my call. Be ready to drive.”
19
NanoUSA
28 February
Wednesday, 2:25 p.m. local time
Simone was standing at Jen’s desk, waiting to determine Robert’s calendar for the end of the week, when Jen got the call from Zoe.
“Excuse me,” Jen said to her. “Hi, Zoe, what do you need?”
A minute later she was all smiles, coming to her feet and scooping up her handbag. Clearly, she’d received some happy news.
“Can we go over Robert’s schedule later?” she asked Simone, although it really wasn’t a question. “I have to cover Zoe’s desk.”
Something about Jen’s overly enthusiastic response gave Simone pause. She glanced at the flowers on Jen’s desk, took in her radiant expression, and a realization clicked into place.
“No problem,” she assured the young woman. “What time will Zoe’s meeting be over?”
“Oh, she isn’t going into a meeting, not this time. She’s heading home—splitting migraine. I’m just manning her desk to field any problems that might come up to the best of my ability.”
Even as Jen spoke, Zoe exited her office, carrying a slim file folder and her purse. She looked more like a woman on a mission than a woman with a headache. And leaving the office in the middle of the day? Zoe, who lived for and at Nano? Not likely.
Zoe nodded as she passed Jen, walking by Simone without really seeing her. Clearly, her mind was locked onto something. The question was: what?
Simone waited until Zoe had left the executive suite, her heels clicking purposefully on the marble floor as she headed toward the outside doors.
Then she followed her.
Jake’s Bar & Cocktail Lounge
28 February
Wednesday, 2:55 p.m. local time
David was waiting for Zoe in the lounge area when she arrived. He rose from behind one of the red leather couches that catty-cornered a second one, both clustered around a polished oak table, and waved her over.
She acknowledged that she’d seen him with a responding wave, then bypassed the bar and made her way over to him.
“It’s great to see you,” David said, gesturing at the adjacent couch. “Please, sit.”
Zoe complied, her brows lifting as she saw the bottle of champagne chilling on ice. “Confident, aren’t we?”
“Actually, yes,” he replied. “And not because I’m arrogant. Because I know you’ll make the ideal addition to Franklin Wales. You’ll see that for yourself once you’ve read over our offer.”
He opened a manila folder and handed her the pages inside.
Zoe read through them, her eyes widening despite her best attempts to maintain a poker face. The bonuses alone were more than her annual salary at Nano. And the rest—it was a dream job, and not just because of the money. She’d be the one controlling her own future, contributing to the company while spreading her wings. She’d be able to implement all the creativity, the business savvy, and the experience she had to offer. She’d be recruiting and placing top-level executives in the technology field, and she’d be one of a half dozen partners—all heavy hitters she could learn from. This offer made her aspirations at Nano look like child’s play.
“I take it you’re satisfied?” David asked, having watched her expression like a hawk.
Zoe lifted her gaze to meet his. “I’d be a fool to say otherwise. Obviously, I have a few questions—which I prepared in advance, given you said that time is of the essence.”
“Shoot.”
Quickly and efficiently, Zoe ran through those items that weren’t covered in the agreement. Just as quickly, David answered them all, agreeing to put his promises in writing as an addendum to the proposal.
“Then I’m fine.” Zoe nodded, her eyes glittering with anticipation.
David extended his hand. “Welcome aboard.”
Zoe met his handshake firmly. “I look forward to a successful partnership.”
“As do I.” David reached for the bottle of champagne and popped the cork. He filled each of their waiting flutes to the brim. “To the future,” he said, raising his glass.
“To the future,” Zoe echoed.
As they sealed their new partnership with the first sips of bubbly, David’s gaze shifted to the folder Zoe had placed beside her on the couch. “Why don’t we take a quick scan of the org chart you brought? We can order some appetizers and brainstorm ideas while we enjoy?”
“Good idea.” Zoe pulled out the copy of Nano’s organizational chart, listing everyone’s name, title, and contact information, department by department. She slid it across the table, waiting as David ordered some spicy wings and jalapeno poppers.
A few minutes later, they were eating, drinking, and poring over the org chart, chatting about the Nano team.
David played his part perfectly. He feigned interest in all the right places and adhered to a verbal analysis that made sense for an executive recruiter—all without making Zoe suspicious. The truth was, the course he was taking would help him figure out who was providing Vance Pennington with the technical help he needed to transmit the technology. And the more he analyzed the chart and listened to Zoe’s explanations of the various people’s roles and backgrounds, the more certain he was of the best direction to take.
He went straight for it.
“I assume Robert Maxwell’s retirement will be by year’s end?” he asked, knowing full well that Zoe was going to evade the question. “Never mind,” he said quickly, waving away the need for an answer. “I don’t expect you to confirm that. You’re still a Nano employee. I won’t compromise your integrity. But if that’s the case, and if you were to guess, who do you think Maxwell’s slotted for the CEO position? My money’s on Vance Pennington.”
Zoe pressed her lips together, then clearly decided to go for the supposition. “I think your money is safe.”
David nodded. “Ethan Gallagher.” He pointed at the name. “He’s Pennington’s PA. Is he a good one?”
“He’s exceptional,” Zoe replied. “He’s also very tight with Vance. So if your supposition includes wondering about whether or not Vance would take Ethan with him to the executive suite, the answer is, yes, he definitely would.”
“Is he qualified?”
“More than qualified.” Zoe gave David a brief overview of Ethan’s educational background and skills, as well as his solid years of training under Vance’s tutelage. “If one of your—our—” she amended, smiling, “clients is looking for a new PA, Ethan is about as good as they come. Other than me, of course.” Her eyes twinkled. “But it would take a lot to pry him away from Vance. As I said, he’s definitely his golden boy.”
“By a lot, you mean money?”
“Money, growth potential—the works.”
“I know Nano’s pay scale,” David said. “It’s better than competitive. But it’s not off the charts. And if Ethan is as good as you say he is, he’s probably nearing the top of his salary grade range. So why hasn’t he pressed for a promotion? Maxwell hasn’t been on a retirement track until now, so Ethan would have no way of knowing his boss was slated to be the new CEO. I guess he isn’t as hungry as I’d imagine.”
Zoe shrugged. “Judging from the car he drives and the kind of friends and fun he describes, I don’t think he’s hurting.”
“Meaning?”
“He bought an obscenely expensive Porsche a few months ago. And he hangs out with an executive crowd that is major pay grades higher than he is and enjoys the good life.”
“How does he pull all that off?”
Another shrug. “Truthfully, I never asked. I hear what I hear in t
he break room and from other employees who like to gossip. But Ethan and I are colleagues, not friends. He’s probably either up to his neck in credit card debt or he’s got rich parents subsidizing him.”
Or he’s getting payoffs from Pennington to do a little off-the-books work, David thought.
He’d found the probable candidate to be helping Pennington. Ethan Gallagher’s educational background had no doubt given him the technical skills he needed. And he was glued to Vance’s side and willing to do anything to make his boss happy and to boost his own income in the process.
“David?” Zoe was calling for his attention, and David mentally kicked himself for zoning out on her.
“Sorry, Zoe.” He gave her a sheepish look. “The truth is, I’m desperate for a cigarette. I’ve been trying to quit, but without much luck so far. Would you mind if I stepped outside for a minute?”
“No problem.” Zoe was already reaching for the proposal he’d given her. “I’ll do a little rereading while you’re out.”
“Great.”
* * *
By the time Zoe’s companion rose from his seat, Simone had taken half a dozen photos of him from her hidden stool at the end of the bar. She’d also been able to make out the logo at the top of whatever papers he was handing Zoe. Franklin Wales. Big-time headhunters. She wished she could have caught snippets of their conversation, but she couldn’t risk moving closer. The exchange of papers and the intensity of the conversation told her that this was serious business. And the champagne toast? Clearly a deal being sealed. But what kind of deal? Was Zoe making a career move? Or was the whole scenario, including the document exchange, a cover? Interesting that Zoe’s companion was Chinese.
That could be sheer coincidence. On the other hand, it could mean that Zoe was the mole that Zermatt was searching for.
Simone used this break in the action to open the browser on her cell phone and check out the Franklin Wales website. She went straight to the “members of our team” link and ran through the names and faces.
It didn’t take her long to find this guy. David Cheng. Impressive bio. Contacts all over the globe. Fluent in Mandarin.
Quickly, she forwarded a brief summary of what was going on right now, along with the photos she’d taken and the link to Cheng’s page on the Franklin Wales website, to Terri. “See what you can dig up,” she typed. She made sure to cc Aidan.
Then she waited patiently for Cheng to return.
* * *
Jítuán Headquarters
Shenzhen, China
Xu Wei, the CEO of Jítuán, disconnected the call with Cheng and contacted his head of security, simultaneously texting him all the pertinent information about Ethan Gallagher he’d just heard.
“Send our people to this man’s apartment tonight,” he instructed in Mandarin. “Find out everything about him.” A pause. “Yes. Tonight. Pay them whatever is necessary.”
20
Ritz-Carlton, Lake Tahoe
28 February
Wednesday, 4:05 p.m. local time
Aidan had been in the Penningtons’ hotel suite all day and had no immediate plans to leave—not with the instability of things at this end.
He resettled himself on the sofa, quickly firing off a Daddy text to Abby, promising that when his work in Santa Clara was done, he’d join her for a full day in Disneyland before they all flew home to New York. It was a promise he was determined to keep—not only because he loved spending time with Abby but because the fact that he’d be able to do so meant that Lauren Pennington would be safely reunited with her family, and he’d have a clear mind to spend time with his daughter.
But first he had to bring the Penningtons’ daughter home.
He glanced up, seeing the same scene he’d seen all day.
Vance was standing like a statue at the panoramic window. He hadn’t moved in hours, and he was wound so tight that he was about to erupt. And Susan had been crying and walking the floors all day. Between the two of them, Aidan was gravely concerned that someone might do something stupid, something that would endanger Lauren’s life.
Sure enough, Vance’s head snapped around and he stared at Aidan. “If we don’t hear back soon, maybe I should reconsider and contact the FBI.”
Aidan kept his demeanor calm. “That would be foolish, Vance, and I think you know it. You’re panicking. I understand. But you learned a great deal from one conversation with Lauren. Based on her diet, we’ve narrowed down our search to Slavonia, which is a small region of Croatia. My team members are meeting with informants who will narrow down that area even further. We’ll get locations and answers. We’ll bring Lauren home safely. You have my word.”
The vow tasted bitter on Aidan’s tongue, especially after his conversation with Marc. But he had to shove his fears aside and go with his instincts. And his instincts screamed that his team would rescue Lauren in time.
“Your word is wearing thin,” Vance snapped. “We have less than three days left. Did you see Lauren’s face? How pale and terrified she is? She’s a young girl, Aidan. Her life has barely begun. And here I am, sitting on my hands when I should be doing something to bring her home safely.”
“You are doing something,” Aidan replied. “Lauren’s continued safety relies on her kidnappers’ belief that you’re following their orders and not contacting law enforcement. The Albanian organized crime groups are not known for their tolerance. You’ve had faith in me up until now. Hold on for a little while longer.”
Susan stopped pacing long enough to plant herself in front of Aidan. “Vance sent them a portion of what they want. So why haven’t they contacted him yet? Outlined their next step?”
Aidan responded with composure and logic. “I’m sure they’re having their experts review the drawings to make sure they’re legitimate. That takes time. By tomorrow, you’ll be hearing from them with further instructions. Vance will also have seen and talked to Lauren again. This will all come together—and well before their deadline.”
“You’re that certain?” Vance asked, searching Aidan’s face.
“Yes.” Aidan didn’t blink, having successfully squelched his own fears. “I’m that certain.”
At that moment, Aidan’s cell phone buzzed. He glanced down at it and then rose. “I need to make a quick phone call. I’ll be back shortly.”
Susan jumped all over that: “Is it about Lauren?”
“It’s not from my overseas team members, so no,” Aidan hedged carefully. Now was definitely not the time for full disclosure—even after he’d read Simone’s email. Given the Penningtons’ state of mind, he was determined to keep them on a need-to-know basis. The investigation was too fluid and escalating too rapidly to provide a blow-by-blow update to his emotionally distraught clients.
He was already headed for the door, intending to read and respond to the email alone in his hotel room. “Once I’ve handled this business matter, I’ll be back.”
Simone had used the emergency code; he didn’t have time for niceties or explanations.
* * *
Aidan sat down at the hotel desk and opened Simone’s email. He read the contents and studied the photos before calling her.
“Yes?”
“It’s me,” Aidan said. “Are you able to talk?”
“I’m still at the bar,” Simone answered quietly. “But Zoe just went to the ladies’ room and her friend is outside, presumably smoking, according to what he told her. It looks like they’re wrapping up, so I’ll slip out now and call you in five minutes.”
Simone was true to her word. Aidan’s cell phone rang four-and-a-half minutes later.
“I’m in the car,” she said. “This is an interesting twist, no?”
“More than interesting. Has Terri gotten back to you yet?”
“Only to say that she’s on the verge of hacking into the Franklin Wales servers so she can find the specifics of whatever company agreement Cheng is signing with Zoe. The rest—finding out if Cheng is merely an executive recruiter o
r something more—that will take longer. It’s not like that will be written out anywhere.”
“Yeah, same for determining if Zoe is merely jumping ship or working with Cheng as an inside agent for the Chinese.”
Simone’s pause was thoughtful. “Something about that last part just doesn’t feel right. Zoe might be leaving Nano—and I have a pretty good idea why—but I don’t think she’d be vindictive enough to turn her back on fifteen years of loyal service and participate in something criminal. For what? Money? Intuition tells me that that’s not an incentive for her.”
Aidan hadn’t missed out on Simone’s inference. “Why do you think Zoe is considering leaving Nano?”
“Aside from the fact that she’s an ambitious woman who’s going nowhere in a hurry? Because she’s in love with Robert Maxwell. Because they had an affair that I’m guessing was long-term and serious—at least to Zoe. And because he’s turning his attentions elsewhere these days. Elsewheres—I don’t place much credence in him being a onewoman man.”
These were the areas where Simone’s people-whisperer skills shined through. “I’ll bite,” Aidan said. “Where is he turning his attention, and what makes you think he’s a player?”
“I have no doubt that he’s sleeping with his receptionist, Jen. She’s young, pretty, and positively radiant at the thought of being near him. She has an expensive fresh floral arrangement on her desk as well as that new-lover look—a look she keeps aiming at the door to Robert’s office. As for the others, I noted a few women—Nano’s CFO, June Morris, in particular—who I suspect are Robert Maxwell discards. They’re all at least a decade older than Jen, and they share a few other things in common: rapid succession up the corporate ladder and utter exhaustion from the major struggle they’re enduring to stay on top of their current positions.”
Aidan processed that thoughtfully. “So Maxwell does have a chink in his armor. And I suspect that none of the women in question would consider filing sexual harassment charges.”
“It would come down to a he-said-she-said,” Simone agreed. “A battle that would end up destroying their careers. Maxwell is way too smart to leave breadcrumbs. Whatever promises he made to get them into bed would fall by the wayside because these women are probably still half in love with him. He’s incredibly charismatic. You should have seen the once-over he gave me when we had our first meeting. He’s quite the charmer, wedding band and family photos or not.”