Nanny 911

by Julie Miller

  “As your right hand, you’ve always trusted me to take care of the business side of things—no matter what else is going on with your life. I kept things running for months while you dealt with Valeska’s murder. I’ve helped you weather wars and economic crashes. I know you’re worried about Fiona right now.” Louis’s bushy silver brows lifted with a friendly beseechment. “But this company is her future, too. A short meeting to alleviate the concerns of one of our most important partners is all I’m asking from you right now. Ten minutes of your time this morning, and I’ll be able to keep the European market afloat for us while you see to the needs of your family.”

  It was Louis’s job to put the company first. As much as the timing stank, Quinn was a smart enough man to listen to the experts he’d hired.

  “You know, Louis, anyone else talking to me like this would be downright irritating. But I know you’re thinking of the bigger picture when I can’t. All right. Ten minutes.” He slipped the printout into the top right drawer of his desk and called his assistant. “Elise? Show Mr. Titov and his associates into my office.”

  “Yes, Quinn. Right away.”

  Pushing back his chair as he stood, Quinn rolled down his sleeves and buttoned his cuffs. He circled around his desk to grab his suit jacket off the back of one of the sofas and kept on walking until he reached Miranda and Fiona. He buttoned his collar and tightened his tie before squatting down to Fiona’s level. “Hey, sweetie. Daddy has to do a little work now. Why don’t you and Miranda go check out the break room and get a snack? Do you remember the way?”

  Fiona grinned from ear to ear. “Soda pop.”

  “That’s right. It’s where the soda pop machine is.” Quinn shook his head and directed his wishes to Miranda, who was on her knees peeling off bandages. “Make sure she drinks juice. Go to the elevator and follow the hallway around.”

  “I saw the room during our search on Christmas Eve.” Miranda stood, her expression concerned behind Fiona’s back. “Trouble?”

  Quinn hugged his daughter and set her on her feet before standing. “Business.”

  When he took Fiona’s hand and pressed it into Miranda’s, his fingers brushed against hers. His sensitive fingertips tingled at the brief contact, remembering where a simple holding of hands had led them the night before last. Just as quickly, he pulled away before he could get sucked into a distraction like that again. He needed a clear head to deal with Titov and Louis’s concerns so he could be done with them and get back to his investigation into the hacked computer system.

  Still, when a woman had a green mermaid bandage stuck to her shoulder, it was a gentleman’s duty to remove it for her. He peeled the strip of plastic off Miranda’s sweater. The movement brought him close enough to look over her shoulder to see the bulge of her gun at the back of her waist. Right. Tingling skin and remembered kisses had no place between them. As much as he hated the idea of a gun being so close to his daughter, the idea of a three-year-old being completely defenseless against an unseen threat frightened him even more. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Right this way, gentlemen.” The office door opened before Miranda and Fiona reached it. Elise Brown, who’d interrupted her visit with her parents to come in this morning, made Quinn think this was any other day at the GSS offices—for a moment. The last few days had left his brain in perpetual turmoil—solving riddles, being stymied by Miranda’s sexy quirks and, unpredictability, protecting his daughter. Elise’s stylish suit, cordial smile and efficient manner added a touch of normalcy to the room that Quinn needed in order to deal with a man like Titov. Nikolai and two of his associates came in, and Elise gestured to the seating area in the middle of the office suite. “Make yourselves comfortable wherever you like.”

  Quinn was shaking hands and being introduced to Nikolai’s accountant and a Lukinburger stock analyst when a dark-haired dynamo dashed back into the room.

  “Petwa!” Fiona darted through the middle of the gathering to retrieve her doll from the box of toys where they’d been playing.

  “Sorry, sir,” Miranda apologized from the doorway. “We forgot her sidekick.”

  “She doesn’t go anywhere without Petra. Her mother made it for her when she was born.” Quinn passed his hand over the silky crown of Fiona’s dark waves as she zigzagged back through the towers of amused adults in her path.

  Before she reached Miranda, Nikolai Titov picked Fiona up in his arms. Quinn was more startled than his daughter seemed to be, but Louis’s calming hand on his arm stopped him from taking more than half a step toward them. Miranda was moving right up behind Titov. Quinn still had her in his sight. Despite the emotional jolt that quickened his heart rate, logically he knew his daughter was safe.

  “What a beauty you are.” Nikolai offered Fiona a fatherly sort of smile as he tucked a curl behind the little girl’s ear. His accented voice trilled the r’s and punctuated each consonant. “She looks so like your Valeska, does she not, Quinn?”

  Quinn met the sincere appreciation in Nikolai’s gaze and nodded. Had it been that long since he and Nikolai had met face-to-face? That last dinner together on the Plaza, when Val had been pregnant with Fiona? No wonder Louis was worried about Titov and his foreign investors losing faith in GSS.

  “Fortunately, Fiona takes after the better-looking parent.”

  Fiona poked at Nikolai’s silver-and-black goatee. “Are you a gwandpa?”

  “No. Unfortunately, I never will be. I have no children.” He gave her a noisy kiss on the cheek.

  Everyone in the room laughed except for Miranda, who lifted Fiona from Nikolai’s arms and caught her by the hand. “She gets her smarts and curiosity from her father.” Her warm smile included each of the guests in the room. “You all have business to discuss, so we’ll, um, go do some exploring.”

  Quinn wondered at the lack of a smile when her eyes reached him. The double shifting of her gaze toward the door sent a clearer message, however. “Excuse me a moment, gentlemen. Elise? If you’d be so good as to pour our guests some coffee?”

  “Of course. Mr. Titov…” Elise took over the meeting for a moment as Quinn slipped away to meet Miranda at the door.

  “What is it?” he asked in a whisper.

  Miranda pulled her ponytail from the front of her shoulder and flicked it down the middle of her back. She answered in an equally hushed yet urgent voice. “Mr. Titov’s accountant is wearing a gun in an ankle holster.”

  An armed man in his office? Quinn stiffened his neck against the impulse to turn and confirm her observation. But the more rational side of his brain wouldn’t let him panic. “He wouldn’t be the first wealthy man to hire a bodyguard.”

  Her eyes blanched wide as she remembered her own position, then narrowed. “Once we’re out of here, I’m calling Mr. Damiani down in the security office to make sure he checked these guys out thoroughly.”

  “Get her out of here.” Quinn hurried them out the door and readied to close it behind them. “Don’t stray too far,” he called after them for the benefit of the others in the room.

  He appreciated her firm grip on Fiona. “We won’t.”

  Quinn adjusted his glasses at the temple, giving himself a moment to blank the suspicion from his face before returning to his guests. Putting out fires with a primary investor was not how he wanted to be spending the day. But Nikolai Titov was worth millions to GSS. And he’d only be separated from Fiona for the ten minutes it took to reassure him of his importance to the company.

  “Nikolai, please.” He strolled back to the center of the room, positioning himself to verify the gun on the beefy accountant’s leg, and to see if he could spot whether anyone else was armed. “You’ve been on a flight for twenty hours. Sit and relax. We have plenty of time to talk.” He smiled as Elise carried a tray of coffee cups and a pot to the long table between the sofas. “You remember my executive assistant, Elise, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Nikolai actually took the tray and
set it down for her. “You are looking as beautiful as ever, is she not, Quinn?”

  Huh? Oh, yeah. Elise was a pretty woman. Talented. Skilled. Loyal. But she was, well, Elise. He’d never thought of her as anything but the boon she was to the company. She’d worked for him for ten years now. Elise he understood. Quinn’s gaze slid over to the door Miranda had just exited. Understanding that one, on the other hand…?

  “Thank you, Mr. Titov.” Elise was blushing under the continental charm of their guest. “Well, if you need anything else…”

  Nikolai frowned as she handed him the china cup and saucer. “You are not joining us for the meeting, Miss Brown?”

  “Quinn?”

  What the hell? Was Nikolai thinking of stealing his top assistant? Or did he just have a thing for brunettes? He had no reason to question Elise’s loyalty. And since she was privy to pretty much everything at the company, anyway… “That’s fine with me.” Perhaps Louis was right, and he needed to give their guests his full attention in order to stave off a different sort of threat to everything he’d built. Quinn refused a cup of coffee for himself and gestured to the sofas and chairs. “Please. Have a seat.”

  “How was your holiday?” Elise asked, joining Nikolai on the sofa across from the men who’d accompanied him from Lukinburg.

  Nikolai sipped his coffee and sighed. “I cannot celebrate at a time like this.”

  “What’s wrong, Mr. Titov?” she asked.

  “Nikolai, please.”

  Quinn went to the window and looked out at the snowy white landscape, and the airport control tower and hotels on the horizon. “You should have called before flying all the way to the States, Nikolai.”

  “This cannot wait. I do not like what I am hearing, half a world away.”

  “What are you hearing in St. Feodor?” Louis asked.

  Quinn heard the rattle of a cup and saucer behind him, and saw Nikolai’s reflection in the window as he approached. “I heard about the Kalahari plant being destroyed. Is it the work of terrorists?”

  “No way to know yet. No factions I know of have taken credit for it.”

  “I gave you a million dollars for that and pledged ten more. We were going to make military-grade drones. And now we have nothing.”

  “My insurance will cover your lost investment, Nikolai.”

  “But what about the future profit I have lost? Who will pay the millions you promised me?”

  Quinn slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks and faced the shorter man. “Other than the tragic loss of life in the explosion and fire, this is something GSS will recover from.”

  “But when?” Nikolai pointed a stubby finger at Quinn’s chin. “If you do not get that plant up and running soon, my investors in Lukinburg will be very disappointed.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “And these are not the type of men you want to disappoint.”

  Did that explain the armed accountant? Had Nikolai received some sort of threat, as well?

  Quinn shook his head and turned away, flattening his palm against the cool glass, struggling to maintain an equally cool, unemotional facade when everything inside him was arguing to end this discussion and get back to the work of tracking down the enemy who wanted to destroy him.

  “It’s not like I can get the plant up and running again in a matter of days. Or even weeks.” The glimmer of an idea popped into his head. Days. Time line. Make it right. Had he offended somebody? Shortchanged anyone by green-lighting the Kalahari project? Do I have your attention now? Why wouldn’t destroying the plant be enough? Why come after his daughter? Why not just ask for more money?

  Maybe it was just the countdown to New Year’s weighing on his mind and getting mixed up with Nikolai’s visit that made him think he was onto finding an answer here.

  A little of that frustration crept into Quinn’s voice. “Whoever planted those bombs razed it to the ground. We’re talking about months of rebuilding.”

  “My partners in Lukinburg were expecting to see results in a few months.” The strain of remaining civil raised the volume in Nikolai’s voice. “Now we are talking about delaying profits for a year or more.”

  “You knew the risks.”

  Louis joined them at the window and tried to play peacemaker. “Nikolai, your investors aren’t the only ones who lost money. Some of us here at GSS put our own funds into that project. We took a hit, too.”

  “Then I have a solution for you, Mr. Nolan.” But Nikolai’s answer was aimed squarely at Quinn. “The GSS plant in St. Feodor that you closed last year. Move the drone-assembly operation there. The building and assembly lines are still in place. We have the rail lines and a small airport nearby. It could work.”

  “We closed the St. Feodor plant because it was too small. And the cost for refitting it for a new product—”

  “—would be offset because you would not have to rebuild the entire facility. And you know we have the skilled workers there.” Nikolai must have been planning this speech all the way from Lukinburg. “Many are still out of work since the plant closed. I think I could convince my investors to put up the money again if they know they are investing in the benefit of their homeland.”

  Ten minutes and making nice was done. “I’ll consider it, Nikolai. But just now I have another issue that is quite urgent I must attend to. Let me call you after the New Year. Perhaps Louis could take a trip to Lukinburg to look over the condition of the plant and discuss it further.” He nodded toward Elise, who could read him well enough to know when he wanted to end a meeting and began ushering their guests toward the door. “He could take my assistant with him.”

  Elise and Nikolai made some eye contact at the door. To Quinn’s surprise, but apparently to Elise’s pleasure, Nikolai raised her knuckles to his lips and kissed her hand. “That would be most agreeable.”

  “I’d look forward to it,” Elise agreed.

  Nikolai released her to hold a hand out to Quinn. “Do not wait too long, my friend. The investors I speak of are not patient men.”

  The questionable nature of some of Titov’s investors had been another reason to close the St. Feodor plant. But Quinn didn’t have the time, nor was he in the right frame of mind, to bring up that topic or make any major business decisions right now.

  He was reaching out to shake Nikolai’s hand when the elevator doors opened on the far side of Elise’s office and David Damiani came charging out. “Quinn? Quinn!”

  “What the…?”

  David was a linebacker, running straight at the quarterback. “I couldn’t risk calling your cell. We need to evacuate the building.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Going on instant alert, Quinn wondered if Miranda would hear the shouting or feel the tension multiplying on the top floor. Was she drawing her gun? Getting Fiona as far away from the security chief’s alarm as she could?

  “Everyone needs to turn off their cell phones. Landlines only if you need to make a call.” The big man pushed past their guests, and ran to Quinn’s desk. “Have you checked your emails? We need to get these people out of here.”

  “David. Answers. Now.”

  “We’ve been monitoring all computer activity since that…glitch yesterday.” David flipped on the computer and pulled Quinn behind the desk, urging him to type in his password and pull up his files. “Phones off?” he prompted to the others in the room.

  One by one, everyone but Elise pulled out cell phones and complied. “Mine’s in my purse at my desk,” she said.

  “Get it,” David ordered.

  “Quinn?” Miranda shouted from the hallway.

  David saw her at the elevator now, too. “Elise, tell the nanny to turn off her phone.”

  “Ah, hell.” Quinn looked through the glass walls of his office. No, no, no, no, no. Miranda was running toward them. She had her phone in one hand and Fiona in the other. “David, talk to me.”

  “Here.” David highlighted an email and opened it. He turned the monitor to Quinn and pointed to the screen. “O
zzie Chang found this encrypted in the system. I verified it myself and evacuated the lab.”

  Quinn frowned. “What’s Ozzie doing here? I told him to take a vacation.”

  “Does it matter?” David tapped the monitor. “Look.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Another day of this nightmare. Another threat.

  As promised, the message was a hauntingly clear photo of the GSS computer lab. And the open briefcase with the wires and timer and C-4 sitting on the table in the middle of the lab had nothing to do with computers at all. The picture was framed by a rotating word stream that read, See? I can get to everything that belongs to you. Make it right. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock…

  “Make it…?” The blood in Quinn’s brain drained to his toes before adrenaline pumped his heart into overtime. “What the hell do you want from me?” He swung around to the others. “There’s a bomb in the building. Everybody out of here! Now!”

  “That’s the same picture I saw when I was talking to my brother.”

  “Damn it, Miranda.” She was right beside him, looking at the same picture, reading the same threat. “Your job is to protect my daughter. Get out of here.”

  “I sent her with Elise. She’ll be safe. That’s enough plastique to take out a couple of floors.” She picked up the corded telephone on Quinn’s desk. “Damiani, take those people down the stairs. We can’t risk anyone getting stuck in the elevator. Is there anyone else in the building?”

  “Sir?” David was questioning who was in charge here.

  Quinn plucked the phone from Miranda’s fingers and handed it to David as he pushed her toward the door. “You stay with my daughter.”

  With a twist of her body, she freed her arm from Quinn’s grasp and hurried back to the desk. “Get real, Quinn. This is exactly the type of situation I’m trained for. You need to get out of here with Fiona and let me work.” She turned to David. “Is everyone out of the building?” she repeated.

  The big man nodded. “Every person who signed in at the front desk has been accounted for now. There’s hardly anyone here over the holidays, but I’ve got my men doing a floor-by-floor search, just in case.”