The CEO Came DOA

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The CEO Came DOA Page 10

by Heather Haven


  “Once you give me a retainer, we should be done here, although I will have a few more questions later. I can probably get started as early as tomorrow morning.” I neglected to mention my intended late-night visit back to Read-Out to take a gander at D. H. Collier’s will tucked away in his Chinese puzzle desk.

  Katie looked at me. “I was glad Skye went back to the car so you and I could talk alone.”

  “Oh?” I sat down behind my desk and gestured to a chair. She sat but leaned forward, almost coming out of her seat.

  “Yes, I wanted to let you know that Skye is not your typical teenager.”

  “You didn’t need to send her out of the room for that. It’s no revelation.”

  Katie went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “I think you will discover Skye is her father’s daughter in many ways. She has his brilliance - she’s already doing college-level work - but she also has his stubbornness, which comes, I suspect, from being smarter than anyone else most of the time.”

  “That can be a drag. My brother goes through that all the time.”

  “Then there’s her sixth sense about certain things, which didn’t come from David. It’s never mentioned, but I think she inherited some of her mother’s touchy-feely approach to life. Sharise’s premonitions are often talked about in scandal magazines and such. Just how much is real, how much is publicity, I couldn’t say. But Skye does seem to know certain things. It’s uncanny.”

  I began to see why my mother asked me to come to the point. Sometimes you’d like to know what the subject of a conversation is before the new millennium.

  “She sounds like a handful. Where are you going with this?”

  Katie hesitated, seemingly searching for the right words. “The fact that Skye’s so convinced her father’s death isn’t suicide has convinced me. I believe there should be total devotion to the job and it should be given top priority.”

  She thrust a check in my hand made out in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars. My eyebrows shot up to the stratosphere.

  “This is a helluva retainer.”

  “Find out who killed her father, Lee, and it will be doubled. Ensure a conviction, and it will be a half-million dollars.”

  Suddenly I didn’t like Katie so much. I handed her back the check.

  “Our standard retainer is ten thousand dollars. And I give every job top priority. Ten thousand is what’s required upfront. We can talk about possible bonuses at another time.”

  “I see I have offended you. I apologize. I am used to dealing with people who value money over everything else.”

  “I don’t and I didn’t think you did, either.”

  Dang. I just did a Lila thing, emphasized a word in a sentence and made a harsh judgment call, to boot.

  “I’m not a person who values money over people.” Katie’s steady gaze met mine. “But I wanted to see if Skye’s faith in you is well-founded. I see it is.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet. Let’s see if I can give Skye what she needs.”

  “You will.”

  With those cryptic words, Katie pulled another check out of her wallet, already made out for ten thousand dollars, and handed it to me. Saying no more, Skye’s nanny stood, turned on her heels, and left.

  I took the retainer, attached it to the signed form, shoved both into a manila folder, wrote D. H. Collier’s name at the top, and set the folder in the outbox. Eventually, Stanley would come by and do whatever he does with these things. Then I sat wondering if Skye and Katie’s faith in me was misplaced. Or if I was as mad as a hatter for taking on the job. Maybe a little of both.

  Working in tech in San Francisco circa 2015

  is like living in Florence during the Renaissance.

  The Economist

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ten-thirty that night found me signed in at Read-Out and heading for the minuscule cubicle given me as Rameen Patel’s assistant. Fortunately, Rameen hadn’t taken me off the list of employees yet, if he intended to, so I was cool.

  The late hour didn’t bother the older, overweight guard sitting behind the desk, either. I was just another go-getter in Silicon Valley with no life other than the one sitting in front of the company computer day in and day out.

  There wasn’t any computer slated in my visit, but the guard had no way of knowing that. Mainly, I wanted to read that stupid will, finally and for cryin’ out loud.

  But first I’d retrieve the list of the fourteen workers who started with the company four years previously, hoping to become millionaires with the upcoming IPO. One company assassin stood in the way of any of them scaling up from an old Honda Civic and cramped rental apartment to a brand new Porsche convertible and fancy house with a pool. That made for fourteen very strong motives.

  Being above board with security had some pluses. It meant I could throw a little light on the subject once I got upstairs instead of using a flashlight. I hit every light panel at the entrance and surveyed the empty, maze-like space usually bustling at least fourteen-hours a day. I walked the area to make sure no one else was around before going to my desk.

  I found the list lickety-split, and without hesitation added Rameen Patel and Craig Eastham’s names to it, which upped it to sixteen. I could have added the board members, but thought I’d wait until I went through this lot first.

  I threw a few personal items into my tote bag, and went to Collier’s office. The door was locked, but that didn’t bother me none. I withdrew my tools and was inside in less than ten seconds. You gotta love these dog and cat locks. They save so much time.

  Once inside, I didn’t like what I saw. All four previously hidden drawers of the Chinese Puzzle desk were now open and empty. Indignant, I pulled out my phone, and hit speed dial. Frank answered right away, but sounded highly annoyed. Tough noogies.

  “What’s happened now?”

  “Did you tell Sunnyvale about Collier’s puzzle drawers?”

  “Of course, I did.” His voice registered surprise at my question. “You didn’t expect me to keep information like that to myself, did you? I might be impeding an investigation.”

  “Did you tell them from where you got this unimpeded information?”

  “Of course not.” Now his voiced registered indignation. “I told them it came from one of my sources. Why would I involve you? And speaking of you, where are you?”

  “I’m working on a few things,” I was vague. Then more to myself I said, “I wanted to read that will, damn it, and now the Sunnyvale Police have it.”

  “Well, ask Talbot how soon you can see it. He’ll probably be pretty forthcoming. It’ll be a matter of public record soon enough.”

  “James Talbot, esquire? The Alvarez’ family retainer? You mean Collier had the same lawyer as we do? The old guy gets around.”

  I was stunned. James Talbot was one of the world’s oldest practicing lawyers. He handled Grandfather Hamilton’s estate from way back when and the Alvarez legal affairs to this day. The best part is he knew Mom when she was “in rompers,” and is not one bit intimidated by her. Frank’s voice interrupted my reverie.

  “I think it’s one of his sons, actually. Talbot’s slowing down a little.”

  “Well, he’s got to be a 107 if a day.”

  “83, actually. Same age as my father.”

  I looked at my watch. “I’ll call him in the morning.”

  “You do that. Lee, while I have you on the phone, I have some information to share with you. Tit for tat.”

  “Tat away, Frank.”

  “Collier’s death is being listed as suspicious.”

  I sucked in a sharp lungful of air. “What?”

  “His doctor checked the stats from his chip implant, and found Scopolamine in his system. The lethal, chemically altered kind.”

  “You mean Collier had one of the Read-Out chips implanted in his body?”

  “According to Doctor Newton all the employees do, including their families. Eastham even has his llamas chipped. All part of their contro
lled studies.”

  “And what did you say this Doctor Newton found in Collier’s body?”

  “Chemically altered Scopolamine.”

  “I thought Scopolamine was used for sea sickness.”

  “Diluted and in its natural form, it is. But this has been altered in a lab. It’s called ‘Devil’s Breath’. Not much is known about it in the states, but it’s got a history in Colombia.”

  “Devil’s Breath? Sounds bad.”

  “And aptly named. It can take effect in any of three ways; inhaled, absorbed through the skin, or swallowed. It’s used by the Colombian criminal set in smaller doses to control their victims; make them do whatever they want. They blow it in their faces, lace a drink or food, or hand them a piece of paper to read coated with the drug. In less than a minute it’s in the system, causing the victim to lose all willpower.”

  “For real?”

  “According to reports, they turn into zombies. They do whatever they’re told; empty bank accounts, rob their own homes, even some cases of date rape.”

  “What happens if it’s used in larger doses? Can it kill?”

  “For the moment ’undetermined’ is the official stand of the Sunnyvale Police Department. But from what I’ve read, Devil’s Breath can be lethal if you use enough of it. And there’s no antidote. Collier’s death is being ruled as suspicious until they know whether he took it himself or someone gave it to him.”

  “Are they going to tell his daughter?”

  “It’s up to the Coroner’s Office to release the info, even to his family. My gut feeling is no. So this is between us chickens.”

  “Cluck, cluck.”

  “Now hang up so I can go back to bed. And Lee…”

  “Yes?”

  “Do I want to know where you are?”

  “Not really.”

  I hung up and sat for a time. So the kid was on to something. Maybe her father didn’t commit suicide. Maybe someone made it look that way. Yawning, I vowed to get right on it first thing in the morning.

  After relocking the door, I exited the building, and went to my car. That’s when my phone rang. It was my brother.

  “Lee! Lee! This is it. We’re on our way to the hospital. The baby’s coming!” Richard sounded both excited and frantic. I could hear Vicki in the background. She didn’t sound so excited. But she did sound frantic, with a lot of moaning and groaning thrown in.

  Who do you think made the first stone spears?

  The Asperger guy. If you were to get rid of all the

  autism genetics, there would be no more Silicon Valley.

  Temple Grandin

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Isn’t she the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen in your life?” Even behind the mask and scrubs, I could see my brother’s ear-to-ear grin.

  I looked at Stephanie Roberta. The name Stephanie was given for two deceased family members, our much beloved cousin, Stephen, and Vicki’s grandfather. The baby’s middle name, Roberta, was the feminine version of our late father’s name. Everybody was happy. Just a few hours old, the baby did look beautiful in that red-faced, wrinkled, Winston Churchill sort of way.

  Vicki, too, looked remarkable considering it hadn’t been the easiest delivery. My sister-in-law is a small, slender-hipped girl and Stephanie Roberta wanted a little more elbowroom than she was being given on her way into the world. But mother and daughter worked it out, as mothers and daughters usually do, and here she was at seven pounds, three ounces, sleeping in her new mother’s arms.

  “All right, everyone, listen up.”

  Our very own Nurse Ratched addressed the family at large. A sourpuss woman paradoxically dressed in red slacks and a holiday scrub top with candy canes all over it, she hadn’t cracked a smile since Mom, Tío, and I were allowed into the private room. When she wasn’t taking temperatures, fluffing pillows or writing in charts, she stood in a corner and glowered at us, but never said a word.

  When she finally spoke, I wish she hadn’t. She had a gravelly, 2-packs a day smoker’s voice that makes one glad one never took up the habit.

  “It’s seven AM,” she rasped. “And rest time for mommy, daddy, and baby girl.”

  “Stephanie Roberta,” we all said in unison and looked at one another in surprise. The we went into gales of laughter.

  Nurse Ratched didn’t have a chuckle in her. She glared at us. “It’s time for everyone else to leave the room. And I mean now.”

  We hugged the new little family as quickly as possible and trouped out the door, which was shut with enthusiasm by the nurse behind us.

  Mom and Tío elected to stay at the hospital a little while longer, in the hopes they might be able to see the baby again. As I walked outside into the chilly morning hours of a California winter, I texted Gurn a message about our new arrival, even if it was a long shot he’d get it.

  You are the proud uncle of beautiful Stephanie Roberta Alvarez, 7.3 pounds, born December 20, 4:43 AM. Love, L.

  Dead on my feet and with a big day ahead of me, I drove home, set my alarm for nine-thirty, and crashed. I was asleep for about ten minutes when the work on the new office started again.

  I looked at the clock. Yup, eight AM on the dot. I gathered up the cats and dragged myself over to the Big House, where it was relatively quiet. I reset the alarm for ten-thirty, feeling that being up all night and waiting for your new niece to be born outweighed any obligations I had to my job first thing in the morning. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  The natives of Silicon Valley learned long ago that when

  you share your knowledge with someone else, one plus one

  usually equals three.

  Vivek Wadhwa

  Chapter Fifteen

  I was startled awake by the sounds of Mom, Tío, and Richard coming into the family room. Even without speaking, I could tell something was wrong. Jumping up, I dislodged two protesting cats that fell to the sofa.

  “What the…” I looked from one face to another. “What is it? Nothing’s happened to Stephanie, has it? Or Vicki? Oh, my God!”

  “No, no,” Richard said, running over to hug and soothe me. “The baby’s fine. Vicki, too. In fact, she threw me out saying the two of them can’t sleep between all my crying, cooing, and taking pictures.”

  I relaxed and went into a teasing mode. “Ahhhh, were you cooing at my niece?”

  A fleeting smile crossed his face then he sobered and shook his head. “Lee, Mom got a call from the office. It’s bad news. Maybe we should all sit down.”

  He turned and looked at our mother. So did I. Her face was ashen. Tío came to her side and guided her to a chair. I couldn’t move, but stood there already dreading the news of what I did not know.

  “What’s happened?”

  “It’s Jacob Gold, Liana.” Mom’s voice was hardly more than a whisper. She dropped down in the tan leather wingback before she spoke again. Throwing her head back, she said, “He’s dead, Liana. There’s no other way to say it. Early this morning.”

  “Jake, dead?” I thought of the handsome, virile man I’d seen only the day before. I sat down before I fell down. “Dios mio, this can’t be true.”

  “He didn’t have any family outside of England, so he put Discretionary Inquiries down as the emergency contact.” Mom lifted her head and looked at me. “Patty called me right after they notified her around ten.”

  My mind raced. “How? Was it natural causes? A heart attack or something?”

  Mom shook her head. “They don’t think so. He managed to get to the motel office before he collapsed.”

  “He died for those computer chips and tester, Lee,” said Richard, his voice sounding harsher than I’d ever heard. “They’re missing.”

  “The chips are gone? Again?”

  Richard looked down at me, but before either of us could say more we heard Mom’s voice, sounding far away and sad. She brushed at eyes filled with tears.

  “Jacob worked with Discretionary Inquiries from the beginning. He w
as the first operative Roberto hired. He would do anything for your father, you know.”

  She looked at us with a fleeting memory’s smile on her face. Then the clouds returned.

  “They say he was acting strangely, staggering, incoherent. The police think he overdosed on something, but he never did drugs. Never!”

  Her voice had a desperate edge to it, as if she was already defending the reputation of a good man that might become tarnished once a hint of drugs was linked to it. I thought of Shakespeare’s quote again “…the good is oft interred with their bones.”

  Mom went on, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap and reiterated her stand. “In all the years I’ve known the man, he never once took an aspirin, never.”

  I leaned forward. “But he might have been given something, Mom, without his knowledge.”

  I briefly told them about my previous night’s conversation with Frank and the coroner’s findings on Collier’s death.

  “I didn’t have a chance to tell you any of this before, what with the baby coming. Maybe the same person who killed David Collier killed Jake. I went on line last night while we were waiting at the hospital and looked up ‘Devil’s Breath’. It’s a chemically altered use of the drug Scopolamine, a drug coming from the Borachero tree in Colombia.”

  “The sea sickness drug?” While it was only Richard who spoke, three sets of eyes were on me.

  “It’s also used to combat a pregnant woman’s morning sickness. But that’s in its original state. Once it’s chemically altered, it becomes what’s called the world’s scariest drug, Devil’s Breath. Unsavory types use it to take away a person’s willpower, to make them do whatever you want. And from what I’ve read, the way Devil’s Breath affects people at too high a dosage sounds similar to Jake’s symptoms before he died.”

  “You’re saying this could be tied in to the death of David Harold Collier?” Mom frowned and looked from Richard to me.

 

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