by JL Wilson
"Cara, that's not fair. I told you I had to be out of the office." Lucinda's voice was outraged and her hands clenched.
"I need to go now," I told Parker. "I'll call you later." I hung up the phone and exchanged a look with Cerberus, who had sat up to follow Lucinda's progress around my room.
"Can't it wait until this afternoon?" Lucinda demanded, her denim skirt swirling around her legs as she turned at the doorway and stalked back toward the fireplace. "Well, why not? Damn it, Cara, it's almost lunchtime. Why is it so urgent?" Lucinda must have sensed me watching her because she stopped in front of my desk. Her gaze dropped to the financial report, then back to my face. I saw desperation, anger and worry etched in her eyes. "I'll get there as fast as I can. You can't do anything permanent without me, so don't even try." She closed the phone with an angry snap. "I'm sorry. I have to get back to the office."
I got to my feet to intercept her before she could bolt out of the room. "What's happened, Lucinda? Is something wrong?"
She dodged around me, into the living room. Cerberus and I followed. "My sister Cara has called a meeting of the shareholders," she said over one shoulder. "I think she wants our company to go public and I've resisted it for months. She decided today might be a good time to talk about it."
Lucinda snatched her bag from the kitchen counter along with her hat, mittens and pet food sack. I managed to put a restraining hand on her arm before she could race out the door. "Calm down. If what I read about your company is true, you have a thirty percent share in the stock. That's enough to force any legal options to be reviewed."
She stopped so suddenly my action pulled her against me. Staggering back, she peered up at me in surprise. "What?"
"I've been on several boards of directors and I've taken three companies through the IPO process. It doesn't happen immediately, just because your sister has decided she wants it to. There are lawyers, forms, SEC stipulations to meet and about a thousand other roadblocks that can get in the way." I put a calming hand on Lucinda's shoulder. "Tell me what's going on and maybe I can help."
Cerberus made a whining noise next to her. Tell us. You can trust us, even though he is supposed to kill you.
I looked down at the dog. "You stay out of this."
Lucinda laughed shakily. "You can't tell a dog to stay out of anyone's business. They're born busybodies."
Cerberus pushed his snout against her leg. Go on. Tell us.
She ran a hand through her dark curls. "It's a long story and I really don't have the time. Cara is going to start the meeting whether I'm there or not. My nephew Jeff is in town. That's why she's doing this. He's normally in Boston, but he's in town for a visit." Lucinda shook her head angrily. "I don't have time."
I put a hand under her elbow. "Let's go." Cerberus got behind her and began nudging her legs, giving her his own brand of encouragement.
"What?" She looked down at the dog then at me.
I almost had to drag her to the door leading to the garage. "I got you into this trouble by asking you to come here and help with Cerberus. The least I can do is help you now."
The dog woofed. I'll have you know it wasn't my idea. But he's right. We got you into this mess. The least we can do is help get you out.
"But you have a job. You have clients and business and--"
"Surely John Fairchild told you I could be trusted, didn't he? You said he did a background check on me."
"It's not that. For heaven's sake, if I were worried about you, I wouldn't have come out here. No, I just don't want to inconvenience you."
I tugged on her arm. "Come on, Lucinda. I know some roads that will get us there in half the time. You can say you've hired me as your business advisor."
"I have?"
She looked so bewildered I grinned. "Yes, you have. If you like, we'll make it official. I'll draw up a contract you can sign. I've been hired before to help shareholders when their companies went public. We can stand here and argue about it or I can get you to your office before the meeting starts."
Cerberus nudged her again and she swiped at his snout. "Stop that, your nose is cold. I don't know if we should leave him here. He was so sick. You shouldn't leave him alone."
He grinned up at her, his wagging tail whapping against her thighs. Get going. Who knows what that witch of a sister might be plotting? Get going.
Lucinda hesitated then seemed to come to a decision. "While you change I'll handle him."
I stopped trying to shove her out the door. "Change?"
"You know--so you look like a financial advisor."
"Ah. Good point. I'll be back in a minute," I promised.
"Good." She looked down at the dog. "Do you need to go out?"
Sure. I can always pee. He crowded toward the door. I'll race you, the dog shouted over his shoulder.
I ran upstairs and considered my walk-in closet. I yanked out a dark gray shirt, matching tie and my Harris tweed sports coat. In five minutes I was running back down the stairs, briefcase in hand.
Cerberus sat on the rug near the door. Beat you.
"Be good," I warned as I went past.
It'll be okay. I can hold my water for a few hours. His tail started wagging slyly.
I saw his gaze go to the kitchen counter. "Damn it." I retrieved the remnants of the Easter basket, carrying it out of the house with me. "Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone and don't eat anything bad." I tossed the mangled little basket and the half-eaten contents into the trash bin next to the steps.
I heard his faint I'll guard the house with my life as I joined Lucinda in the garage where she stood next to the Jag. I touched the security pad to set the alarms then went to the car. "Let's go." I tossed my briefcase into the back.
She hesitated by the passenger door. "I don't know if I should. What about my car?" She looked at her Subaru, parked to one side of my wide drive.
I leaned over the top of the car to regard her. "What does your sister expect you to do?" Before she could answer, I said, "She expects you to rush into town, distracted and confused, then stammer and stutter while she runs the meeting, which she has no doubt orchestrated down to the last little detail. But if you ride into town with me we'll have a chance to talk this over, come up with a plan of action and beat her at her own game." I waggled my eyebrows at her. "I'm very good at this and I enjoy it. Please, let me help you."
She stared at me over the car, her eyes wide and astonished. Then she burst out laughing, her dark curls dancing as though sharing her glee. "How can I resist?" She jerked open the door and fell inside, still laughing.
I maneuvered the car out of the garage, idling next to her Subaru. "Do you want me to have someone drive your car to your house?" I asked. "I can call the car service I use and have a valet pick it up and drive it." I slipped the Jag into reverse, backing slowly down the drive. "Or you can leave it here and we'll come back later and get it. After we've whupped your sister's ass and had a celebratory dinner." I leaned over the console to look intently at her. "Perhaps I can talk you into coming inside and seeing the rest of my train set." I winked. "It goes all over the house, into every room."
She grinned, dimples flashing at the corner of her mouth. "You're more wicked than your namesake, Hades. But I have the feeling that I'll be busy tonight. I'm sorry. I'll need to take a rain check on that, even though I'd love to see your train set."
Damn. I thought for sure...Her cautiousness was starting to be annoying. Oh well. Perhaps I could talk her into it later. "Well then, give me the keys and I'll call the service when I get back home." I gunned the car. "And fasten your seatbelt."
Chapter Eight
As soon as I saw Cara Delacroix, I knew I had a good fight on my hands. She was tall, slender and haughty with dark curly hair pulled up into a stylish, tousled mass atop her head, looking too heavy for her elegant neck. She wore tailored business clothes in rich brown tones that highlighted her large brown eyes. Her skirt was just short enough to show off her exquisite legs and just tight
enough to accent her high, shapely ass. The tailored jacket hinted at her delicious breasts hidden behind the fabric.
She assessed me with a sweeping look when Lucinda and I arrived in the conference room on the third floor of the four-story Delacroix Lab building. "John mentioned you," she said in acknowledgement of Lucinda's introduction. She held out a hand. "Thank you for giving Lucinda a ride into town. I was worried she'd hurry and perhaps have an accident. Cinda isn't the best of drivers even when she isn't rushed."
Lucinda started to formulate a scathing reply. I took Cara Delacroix's extended hand. "I, however, am an exceptional driver. I'm pleased to meet you. Lucinda and I had such a nice chat about you, the company and the instructions her father left in his will at his death."
Cara's hand tightened in mine. Her brown eyes narrowed. She too could see the battle lines, clearly drawn. Cara Delacroix was exactly the kind of woman I had been attracted to in another life--the one I led in the 1970s, to be precise. She was a hard-edged businesswoman, inflexible, driven to succeed, beautiful and sexy.
I glanced at Lucinda and her casual clothes, flyaway hair and tiny stature. It was odd how my tastes had changed. I released Cara's hand and turned to Lucinda. "Lead the way, boss."
"Boss?" Cara's voice sounded choked.
"Yes, your sister hired me to advise her during the IPO process if indeed there is one. I've been involved with several successful corporate changeovers." I gestured to Lucinda to precede me into the conference room.
"I'm sorry, but this is a family matter."
Lucinda sighed. "I've given him a retainer, Cara. Now stop with the big sister act and let us in."
I hid a smile. She said it with just the right mix of annoyance and amusement. I was glad I accepted the dollar bill from Lucinda earlier in the car as the "retainer" and I belatedly admired her common sense.
Cara looked stunned. We took advantage of her surprise to enter the room. Because of our talk while riding into town, I knew who the players were, seated around the eight-person table. The mannish-looking young woman with dark red hair was Lucinda's niece, Kathryn, and the young man with black curly hair was Kathryn's brother, Jeff. They were plain and somewhat stocky, with fair skin and broad, unremarkable features. I glanced at the portrait on the wall. A man with the same features smiled down at us. David Delacroix, the company's founder, looked solid, respectable and boring, not at all like his daughters.
Lucinda and I took seats across the table from the younger people, John Fairchild across from us on our right. Cara Delacroix came in and positioned a stack of bound pages at the head of the table before sitting down. "This is Mr. Haidess," she snapped, shooting me a malevolent glance. "He's here to advise Lucinda."
Kathryn looked intrigued by this comment. Jeff glanced at Fairchild, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
"The question of whether to go public with the company comes up with some regularity," Cara said with an annoyed look at Lucinda and John Fairchild. "As you know, we've been in talks with Paulson Cybernetics, discussing a way to automate some of our R&D work. Those talks have been productive, but I think if we had a more solid financial backing, we'd have more leverage in our talks with Paulson. I appreciate your concerns about going public, but--"
"We've been over this before, Cara." Fairchild fidgeted with a pen on the table in front of him, bouncing it off a notepad. His dark gray suit and shades-of-gray tie contrasted well with his dark blue shirt. His financial acumen might be questionable, but the man did know how to dress. "You know it's not the right time for us. If we go public we'll be asked to open most of our books, research as well as financial."
Cara held up a restraining hand. "I appreciate that, John. We all do. It's a dilemma." Cara Delacroix's gaze intersected mine. "Your advice probably won't be needed after all, Mr. Haidess. We're not here to consider an IPO. We're here to consider a partnership."
"Ah, partnerships. I have considerable experience with those, too." I swept my gaze around the room. Jeff Delacroix and John Fairchild appeared startled by the announcement. Interestingly enough, Kathryn Delacroix did not until she saw me watching her. Then she put on an appropriate wide-eyed look.
"Partnership?" Lucinda asked next to me. "What kind of partnership?"
I heard the wary suspicion in her voice. She obviously had an intuitive understanding of her sister's deviousness, something I'd underestimated. Cara Delacroix touched a button on the phone in front of her. "Why don't I let him make the presentation himself?"
The door opened and Robert Meyer walked in.
I swear -- the world stopped spinning for one dizzying instant. I had last seen him in 1943 in a publicity photo taken in Nazi Germany. At that time he was wearing a brownshirts' uniform, standing next to a group of scientists at a facility in Italy. He escaped me when I parachuted into Italy with British troops and we stormed the hospital. The dying and tortured patients had occupied our immediate attention, allowing Meyer and his cohorts an opportunity to escape.
He paused in the doorway then crossed the room to Cara Delacroix, smiling at her in such a proprietary way I knew they had been or still were lovers. Meyer was an athletic man, his body tight with a runner's leanness and tan. He appeared to be in his early forties with thick dark gold hair cut into an untidy style giving him a boyish, open appearance.
I was close, so close to the man I longed to kill. For one paralyzing instant I considered jumping up and strangling him. Then common sense prevailed. Like me, he couldn't be killed by so prosaic a method. I had no adequate weapon at hand to murder the son of a bitch.
Concern, fear and surprise washed over me. I glanced down to see Lucinda touching my hand where it was clenched on the tabletop. "Is something wrong?" she asked in a low voice. I heard the concern and fear in her voice.
Meyer turned. Our gazes met. Recognition flared in his hazel eyes then he hid it, turning his smile on Lucinda. "Hello, Lucinda." His voice held just enough warmth and contempt to be insulting.
She flinched. "Hello, Robert. What are you doing here?" Embarrassment and suspicion coursed through the tentative link she and I shared.
He turned to Cara Delacroix. "I was under the impression this was a private meeting."
"Mr. Haidess is a friend of Lucinda's," Cara said.
"A business acquaintance," I corrected. I didn't want to give Meyer any reason to believe Lucinda was of importance to me. It was meager protection but the best I could do for the moment.
Lucinda shifted position, removing her hand and straightening up. "Nico Haidess, this is Dr. Robert Masterson. He works in our research department."
I saw Lucinda's cavalier description of Meyer hit home. So did John Fairchild. He grinned and winked at Lucinda.
Meyer flushed. "I'm the lead researcher on a major project." He leaned toward me and extended his hand.
I looked at it for a long, deliberate moment then I reached out and shook. "So nice to meet the employees at Delacroix Labs."
Meyer looked like he'd swallowed something sour. Cara Delacroix hastily intervened. "Robert has a proposition he'd like to present to the board." Her gaze slid over me. "And to its advisors."
I nodded while my mind churned. Meyer always stayed in the background during the decades I tracked him, content to let others assume the spotlight. This was the first time since the 1880s that he'd stepped into a leadership position of any kind. Why was he willing to work in a small medical research company when he had probably amassed a fortune as large as mine, if not larger? Why subject himself to public scrutiny? What did he have to gain?
"It's very simple, really." Meyer took a seat across the table from Lucinda and me, between Kathryn and Cara Delacroix. "I'd like to invest in Delacroix Labs and become something slightly more than a mere employee." His scathing smile at Lucinda spoke volumes. "After all, my father helped found the company. I think it might be good if I had more than just an employee's interest in its future."
"Why?" she asked before he could continue.
"I
beg your pardon?" He settled back in the faux leather chair, seemingly relaxed. He avoided my gaze, instead focusing on Lucinda, who stared back with impenetrable calm. Her tapping foot under the table gave lie to her façade.
"Why invest in the company, Robert? Aren't you satisfied with your working arrangements here? We've given you a lot of freedom to pursue your own projects and we've funded almost every research effort you've asked us to fund."
"Almost." His voice was brittle. "It has nothing to do with my projects. I happen to believe in Delacroix and its possibilities. I'd like to see our bioengineering ideas succeed and I think with adequate money backing our efforts we can. And, as I said, there's the matter of family history."
I didn't buy it for a minute and I could tell John Fairchild was skeptical too. "What type of arrangement are you considering?" he asked.
"It's very straightforward." Meyer crossed his ankle on one knee. The casual pose didn't fool me. "I'll buy half of each person's shares."
"Nonsense." Lucinda said it in a "you must be an idiot" tone of voice.
Meyer's eyes narrowed. "Why do you say that?"
"Do you think I'd turn over fifty percent of my father's company to you?"
He smiled. "You wouldn't be doing that, Lucinda. You'd only be selling your 15%. It's up to the others to determine how much they would like to 'turn over,' as you phrase it."
My glance flickered around the table, adding up the figures in my head. Kathryn and Cara would do it. I could tell by the way they eyed Meyer. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps Kathryn too was sleeping with him. I tucked that idea away for later investigation. My gaze went to Jeff Delacroix. His eyes were darting from Cara, to Lucinda and back to Cara. He looked nervous. Fairchild too looked anxious and I wondered why. My investigations had turned up a few financial oddities in his accounts. Was that it?
"Before I can adequately advise my client I need to know the details of the arrangement you're suggesting," I said into the dense silence that descended on the table. "And of course I'd need to see a financial worksheet on your assets and liabilities."
