by Gina LaManna
“I don’t believe you, Miss Pink.” Dane leaned forward on the desk, his hands folded before him. “I can see it in your eyes. You have a hundred questions you want to ask.”
“Why’d your father keep Nick around? If his father pulled a stunt like that, why not cut Nick loose too and forego the risk of the apple not falling far from the tree?”
Mr. Clark’s eyes didn’t waver from mine. “Because Nicolas is the one who first discovered the incriminating evidence. He turned them over to my father. If it wasn’t for Nicolas, the Clark Company would not exist today.”
“Nick saved the company by turning in his father?”
“More or less.”
“Yikes.”
“That would be a word to describe it,” he said. “And before you ask the next question burning in your eyes, I’ll answer it. No. Nicolas would never betray me like his father betrayed mine.”
I blinked. He’d stolen the question from my lips. “But—”
“No,” Mr. Clark said firmly. “Nicolas is my friend. He wouldn’t do a thing like that.”
“But—”
“I said no.” This time, he spoke in a deathly quiet voice. “That is the end of this discussion.”
The word no hung over us like a shroud, and it took a moment for me to find my words. “Fine. Well, I should be going. I’m sorry about the meeting—it looks like you’ll have to take it on your own. Will you be okay? Can I stay to help, or should I continue the search for Nicolas?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’m going to start by reviewing his keycard scans, emails, schedules, and anything else I can find.”
“Very well, Miss Pink.”
I made it halfway out the door when he cleared his throat.
I turned around, an eyebrow raised. “Is there anything else?”
“I’m sorry about your date,” Dane said in a gravelly tone. “I know it was cut short. If you’d like... if it’s possible, please feel free to take tomorrow night off with my apologies to your handyman.”
“Do I have to take Semi with me?”
“Yes.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Then I’ll pass. For now.”
“Did you have a nice date?” he asked, a little too eagerly. “Before it was ruined, I mean.”
Without thinking, my fingers clasped the tiny diamond around my neck. “I suppose,” I said. “It was fine.”
“Good night, Lola,” he said. “Don’t wait up. We can discuss the meeting in the morning.”
“No midnight visits this time?”
He paused, an eyebrow lilting in his now familiar expression. “A joke?”
I smiled. “Good luck in there, Mr. Clark.”
I left the king sitting in his tower and took the steps down until I reached the dining area. Semi stood outside of the room, pointing me in the direction of my friends.
“There she is,” Babs said, sitting at the large dining room table. “Have a crumpet. Pour some tea. Have you ever seen such a spread in the middle of the night?”
Annalise was looking longingly at the same biscotti I’d gorged on earlier. “This place is going to be the death of me,” she said. “I’m going to get too fat to flip through the circus.”
“You’re not going to get fat,” I told her. “I already ate all the fat in this room. Mr. Clark told me so.”
“Mr. Clark said that?” Babs started, but she was distracted by a beep from her phone. She slid the screen up, glancing at the message with half a cookie in her mouth. “Omigod, Lola! Come here and look at this!”
I raced around the table, but Babs had already leapt to her feet and closed her phone.
“What was the message?” I asked. “Babs, pay attention!”
“The hospital!” Babs said. “He’s at the hospital.”
“Who’s at the hospital?”
“Well, when you told me to look up Nicolas Flanagan, Mrs. Dulcet overheard us talking and handed us a photo.” Babs pushed aside the cookie tray and held up a Polaroid of Nick. “I texted this to a bunch of my friends, and Michelle said he just walked through the front doors.”
“Michelle Stephens, the nurse?”
“Of course Michelle the nurse! What other Michelle lives on the Sunshine Shore?”
“We’ve gotta get to the hospital,” I said. “Now.”
“We’re not leaving without Mr. Clark’s permission,” Semi said from the hallway. “It’s not allowed.”
“We’ve got to find Nick,” I told him. “Please? Mr. Clark is in a meeting for who knows how long, and I doubt he wants to be interrupted.”
Semi dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear. I watched his face flash from hopeful to annoyed to frustrated.
“He didn’t answer,” Semi said.
“If you drive us to the hospital we won’t try to escape from you,” I promised. “Otherwise I’m counting to three and we’re scattering. One of us is going to get off of this property, and it’ll be all your fault that you lost us.”
“I’ll catch you,” Semi said. “Try me.”
“Have you seen Annalise hula hoop?” I shook my head. “She can flip and twirl through any sized opening. She’ll get out, and she’ll get to Nick, and it’ll be all your fault if you lose one of us.”
Semi looked interested at the idea of Annalise hula hooping. Luckily, Annalise reciprocated the interest and winked in his direction.
“Annalise, tell him we’ll behave,” I told her. “Please.”
“We’ll behave,” she said in a silky smooth voice. “I promise.”
“You’re washing the egg off my car,” Semi said, giving me a pointed look. “And if I have to chase you down, I’m not going to be happy.”
“Understood,” I said. “As for the car wash, let’s discuss the details later.”
“We’ll wash your car,” Annalise piped up. “In swimsuits.”
Thank goodness for swimsuits. We were in the car and halfway to the hospital in ten minutes.
“There’s one thing I didn’t ask,” Babs said, her voice layered with caution.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Michelle said she saw the guy walking into the hospital. I’m assuming he’s not injured, but…I can’t guarantee what we’ll find.”
I squeezed her hand. “Me neither. But for Mr. Clark’s sake, I hope there’s an explanation somewhere in this mess.”
I caught Semi’s eye in the mirror and together, we shared a glance. If Nicolas had crossed Dane Clark in any way, there’d be trouble, that much was sure.
“Wait here,” I told him. “We’ll call if we need backup.”
Hospitals make me nervous. It hadn’t been all that long since I’d stepped into the Sunshine Shore’s ward to visit Dotty. She came here for appointments, checkups, and other “old people stuff” as she’d say. She had died in her sleep, and the doctors had said there’d been no pain.
Annalise hugged me close. “I’m sorry. This is too soon, isn’t it? Why don’t we call someone else to come? Your boss. Or we’ll send Babs in, and we can wait outside.”
I cleared my throat. “It’s okay. Dotty knew her time was coming. She’d made her wishes clear about not wanting to be in a hospital near the end. She wanted to be home.”
“Oh, Lola. I’m sorry.”
I blinked back the sting in my eyes. “It’s okay, really. I just miss her.”
“Of course you do! She was your grandmother. Your family.”
“Fourth floor,” Babs said, returning to the group. “Michelle said that our man just grabbed a cup of coffee in the cafeteria and if we hurry, we can catch him before he reaches the room.”
“He’s not injured?”
“He’s here visiting someone. She didn’t know who. Come on, stairs are this way.”
We hurried through the sterile hallways, the steel guardrails tinted with fingerprints. Finally, the smell of disinfectant gave way to some sort of fast food, and we found ourselves in the kitchen.
“There,” I pointed
to the corner. “That’s him. Wait here, I need to see what he’s up to. Can you meet me in the cafeteria after?”
Before Agent Flipper and Agent Bombshell could respond, I was already on my way across the room. Nick Flanagan had a hat pulled low over his eyes, and was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. If I had to guess, he didn’t want to be recognized. He poured a healthy serving of cream into his coffee, then stirred the whole thing with a frown on his face. Even when I stood behind him, he didn’t look up.
“Pass the cream please,” I said.
Nick flinched.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I drawled as he turned to face me. He quickly hid the surprise flashing through his eyes, but the guilt was slower to go. “Why didn’t you tell Mr. Clark where you’d be? You know the rules.”
“What are you doing here?” He raised the cup to his lip, fingers shaking. “Did he send you?”
“No. I hang out here for fun.” I gestured toward the lineup of food on the tables. “I hear it’s turkey and gravy day.”
“Miss Pink—”
“I’m not here to rat you out, Nick,” I said, waving a hand. “I don’t need to know what you’re doing, and frankly, I don’t care.”
Nick gave me the smallest of smiles. “I’m not running away.”
“I told him you might be.”
“Well, I’m not. Did Lucy suggest that I am?”
“She didn’t. You’ve gotta admit, though, things are looking quite strange for you.”
Nick closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Says who, Miss Pink?”
“The facts.” I watched his face for a sign of a reaction. There were no signs at all, no pained sign of guilt, so I continued with renewed doggedness. “Someone stole blueprints from your Eagle Office worth millions. Add the petty cash theft on top of that and things aren’t adding up.”
Nick’s eyes flashed open. “I had nothing to do with the blueprints going missing.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Flanagan.” It was my turn to cross my arms and play tough. I had one last trick up my sleeve and, even though it was a bluff, I suspected it just might work. “Nobody went in or out of those offices except for you, Nick. There are records.”
He blinked his eyes, long lashes sweeping across his cheeks as he struggled against his nerves. The information about Nick was a bluff; I knew Joseph had accessed the office several times, but I’d been betting Nick wouldn’t realize this when I put him on the spot. Apparently, I was right.
“I had nothing to do with the missing blueprints,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t believe me. You know I’m not lying, Lola.”
“Why’d you take the cash?” I asked, leaning closer to him. “What is ten thousand dollars going to do for you?”
“You know by now why Lucy doesn’t like me, I assume,” Nick said, expelling a breath as a look of resignation landed on his face. “She’s never trusted me since the business with my father and frankly, I don’t blame her.”
“But you handed over the files that got your father fired.”
“And she always imagined I had some bigger, darker plan. That I couldn’t have been doing it because my father was a rat who didn’t deserve to steal Mr. Clark’s genius away from the company. Especially after all the Clark family had done for us. They gave us jobs, set our family up in the Castlewood residences…my father didn’t deserve it.”
“Why the money? I imagine Mr. Clark pays you fairly.”
“No, he doesn’t. He pays me ten times more than the fair limit.” Nick paused. “But medical bills are higher, especially when the patient is not insured and has enough gambling debt to cover three or four houses.”
“You’re talking about your father.”
“He was diagnosed several years ago with cancer, and he doesn’t have long to live. My finances have run dry. I don’t have many expenses—I live at the castle and eat my food there, spend my leisure time there. I can survive without much cash, but there was one experimental surgery left to try, and he wanted to try it. Without the surgery, he’d have died in weeks.”
“And you fell ten thousand short?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m sure if you’d explained the situation, Mr. Clark would have lent you the money. He’d probably give it to you—no loan needed.”
“Maybe, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask.” Nick Flanagan started walking, and I followed. He stopped outside a room, pausing with his hand on the doorframe. “You’ll want to wait outside. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to speak with him.”
From inside the doorway, however, came a voice. A dry, gravelly voice. “Who’s the lady, Nicolas? Introduce us, my boy.”
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Nick Flanagan’s father lay on the bed, tubes coming from his nose and hands. He looked old, so very old and frail. “One of the Clark minions.”
I didn’t respond. Nick followed me into the room, his hand resting on my elbow. Somehow, the gesture seemed sweet in an odd way.
“Leave her alone, father,” Nick said. “You should be resting.”
“Are you Nick’s woman du jour?” Mr. Flanagan Sr. asked. “Funny. I expected someone…prettier.”
My face burned. I turned against Nick’s arm. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m sorry, Lola,” Nick whispered. “I tried to tell you this was a bad idea.”
“It’s my own fault,” I said. “You warned me. Best wishes for a speedy recovery, Mr. Flanagan.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with the missing blueprints.” The thin declaration of innocence stopped me in my tracks. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You thought my son stole the blueprints and ran off with them. Well, you’re wrong.”
“Really. And did Nick tell you this?”
“My son? No. He’s more loyal to Dane Clark than a golden retriever. Let’s just say I keep up on industry news.”
“Why?”
“Because my time has not yet come.” Mr. Flanagan raised an eyebrow, the wrinkles on his forehead creasing. His gaunt frame looked on the verge of collapse as he wheezed out a laugh. “I may not look like much, but I’ll be back. Just you watch.”
“Thanks to your son,” I said. “If it weren’t for Nick funding your treatment, you wouldn’t be here.”
“My son, he loves me so.” Mr. Flanagan coughed. “He loves me so very much he’ll turn his own father over for a job.”
I glanced at Nick. Besides a tightness in his jaw, he barely flinched. “He did the right thing.”
Nick’s eyes flicked toward me. “Lola, you don’t have to do this. He won’t listen to you.”
“He’s so loyal he turned down the offer from Graham Industries, didn’t you son?” Mr. Flanagan looked past me and focused on Nick. “How much did they offer you? It must have been close to two million in salary plus stock options. You’re a man in demand now—Director of Operations for the Clark Company.”
“What offer?” I turned to Nick. “Did Graham Industries contact you?”
Mr. Flanagan Sr. lapsed into a wheezing fit, drawing the attention toward him. When the old man’s fit slowed, he looked up at me, eyes watery and pale. “You’re not paying attention, Miss Pink,” he said. “Graham Industries is launching an attack on the Clark Company. Employees, blueprints... I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Clark entertains an offer for the entire company soon.”
My mind flashed toward the private meeting that Nick was missing at this very moment. I stepped closer to the bed. “What are you talking about? Why?”
“Only one company can be the very best in any given space, and technology is a hot market. As long as Mr. Clark continues to grow his company, Graham Industries will be playing second fiddle to the highest bidding clients.”
“Is this true?” I turned to face Nick. “Have you been contacted by them?”
“I have.” Nick tilted his chin higher. “And I declined.”
“
Like I said,” Mr. Flanagan said. “They went after the wrong man. That butler though, she might consider it.”
“They’re trying to steal Mrs. Dulcet?” I looked between the two men. “Did you know about this, Nick?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said. “It’s common in the tech industry to poach the best employees. There are only so many of us.”
“But—”
“The offer to Mrs. Dulcet would’ve been a personal one,” Mr. Flanagan added. “A sign to show Mr. Clark just how close Graham Industries can hit to home.”
“She’d never accept, would she?” I thought of Mrs. Dulcet, loyal and warm, and her squishy hugs. “She loves Mr. Clark like a son.”
“She does,” Nick said bitterly. “Which is why she’s never forgiven me for my father’s actions.”
“She’s just the help, boy,” Mr. Flanagan spat. “Get your priorities straight.”
“Hey!” I started, but Nick just rested a hand on my arm.
“It’s not worth it,” he whispered. “You’ll never get through to him. Save your breath.”
I paused, studying Mr. Flanagan. Suddenly, he didn’t look so helpless lying there in bed. His eyes matched Nick’s in their intelligence, but where Nick’s crinkled with a smile of warmth, Mr. Flanagan Sr.’s burned with frostbite.
“You’d think a son would have some semblance of loyalty,” Mr. Flanagan said. “After all, I helped to create him.”
“Nick has given you everything!” I stepped closer to the bed. “He stole cash from Mr. Clark to pay for your stupid treatment. And this is how you repay him? What happened to a thank you?”
“Oh, my...” Mr. Flanagan’s eyes sparkled in a way that told me I’d spilled the beans. “Is this true, Nicolas?”
Nick’s fists balled at his sides, and a wave of guilt washed over me.
“He didn’t know about the money,” I breathed, sudden understanding. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Nick stepped further into the room, away from me. “I have nothing to hide.”
“How the tides have turned,” Mr. Flanagan said. “There was a time you wouldn’t steal a pencil from Mr. Clark. You turned over the papers that ruined my life when all you had to do, Nicolas, was keep your mouth shut. One month, and I would have been gone. You could have come with me, and we could’ve had our own company. Larger than Mr. Clark, larger than Graham Industries.”
