by Desiree Holt
She wanted to bang her head against the wall. One more time she hadn’t listened, hadn’t done what she should have. She hadn’t even imagined what the consequences would be. The safe house had been blown up, people had nearly been killed, the target on her back got bigger, and everything had changed between her and Zak.
And of course, he’d been right about her mother. Uncle Ivan had things well in hand. Whether or not he was a part of what was going on, he still made sure his sister was taken care of.
Well, she’d apologized and apologized, to the point where it was becoming old. It was up to Zak if he wanted to trust her again on a personal level.
Tears burned behind her eyelids.
And that was another thing. She wasn’t a crier, but she’d done more crying over the last three days than she had in the past three years. Throwing herself face down on the bed, she let them flow, wishing they could wash away the pain in her heart.
Chapter Eleven
Zak was up early in the morning. Serita had not yet arrived, and he didn’t feel like making coffee himself, so he did without. Carol would have it waiting at the office anyway. On his way out of the house, he paused at Zoe’s door, thought about knocking, told himself it was early and to leave well enough alone, and headed outside. While he waited for the helicopter, he made some calls to the office to set up a meeting. On the ride into the city, he ran everything through his head, trying to make sense of things and figure out what had set this whole series of circumstances in action.
At the office, the situation wasn’t much better. The first thing he saw on his desk was a copy of the newspaper with Zoe’s picture prominently displayed above the fold. The major headline read “Have you Seen This Woman?”
Beneath that was a message telling people to call police immediately if they spotted her and the number of a tip line that had been set up.
“Great.” Zak dropped the paper back onto his desk. “Just friggin’ great.”
Carol was right behind him with coffee and a pastry. “I don’t know if you took time for anything before you left the ranch, but you’ll need all your energy today.”
The back of his neck started itching like crazy. This didn’t sound good. “What’s happening besides this disaster in the newspaper?”
She gave him a look that he could only call pitying. “Ivan Demoff left several messages before I even got here. He’s on his way and says he absolutely must see you. He insists he has the clout to help find Zoe and make things go away for her before she gets killed. He’ll wait as long as he has to.”
“Good luck to that,” Zak muttered.
“Detective Morales called and says he’s also on his way over.” She gave a soft laugh. “Shall I put them in a client room together?”
“Oh, yeah. That’ll be just great. Put Ivan in one of the small client rooms and see that he has plenty of food and drink. Tell him I’ll get to him as soon as I can. Morales won’t wait, and I don’t want the two of them to catch sight of each other.”
Guardian Security clients were often paranoid about their privacy, not wanting to run into others when they came to meet with one of the partners. To accommodate them, Reno and Nick had designed and furnished half a dozen rooms with comfortable chairs and couches, television sets, even a computer if they needed one. The object was to put them at ease as much as possible and keep them that way while they were waiting.
Today, Zak was afraid comfort wasn’t a word that would apply to either of the men about to show up. And just when he least needed them around.
“I’ll take care of it,” Carol assured him.
“Thanks. I need to meet with some of the staff first, though, so you’ll have to guard the door until we’re done.”
“I can do that,” she assured him, “but you’d better make it snappy.”
“What else?”
“A gentleman from Homeland Security wants to see you. This morning, if possible, and even if it isn’t possible. What shall I tell him?”
“Homeland Security? What in hell for?”
Carol held up her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “He didn’t say anything except that it has to do with Miss Lombardo.”
“Oh, isn’t that just great.” He thumped his fist on the desk. “What could she possibly have done that they’d want to know about her?”
“I don’t know, but if I were you, I’d find out in a hurry.”
“All right, all right. Schedule him for after lunch, if you can make that work. Use your famous charm on him. Hold everyone else off. I need to have that meeting.”
As soon as the door closed, Zak dialed the extensions for Keith, Dean, Nina, and Jay, told them he was in and to drop whatever they were doing and get themselves up to his office right now. In less than ten minutes, everyone was assembled, all showing signs of the stress they were under as the case on Zoe lurched forward.
“We should have had this meeting yesterday,” Zak began, “but I foolishly kept hoping the police would find another suspect and get off of Zoe. Since that doesn’t seem to be happening, we have some time to make up for. How are we doing with the things I called in about?”
“I’ll go first,” Jay said before anyone else could jump in. He opened the folder he was carrying. “I sent all this to your terminal, but I brought hard copy for everyone.” He handed out sheets of paper.
“What have we got?” Zak asked.
“The guest list for not just the party the night Nate was killed, but for the last five.”
“And where exactly did you get these?” Zak wanted to know.
“Larry Blake came through for us. It took him a little while. People aren’t very chatty about the Russians.”
Zak’s smile had no humor in it. “I’m sure not. So what did he get for you?”
“The name of the valet service. I thought at first Dunning International might actually own its own service, but I couldn’t find one so I had to wait for Larry. This one’s owned by a Russian immigrant—”
“Hold it,” Zak interrupted. “Did you say Russian immigrant?”
“Uh huh. And they were only too happy to give him these lists.”
Zak lifted an eyebrow. “Happy? Why do I think I’m missing something here? I can’t imagine they’d be happy to give up anything?”
“It seems, for them, nobody’s scarier than the big bad Immigrations and Customs Enforcement Agency. You mention ICE and people literally freeze. They don’t want deportation to the Motherland. Somehow, they got the idea that Larry and his partner were from ICE.”
“Surely they wouldn’t impersonate federal officers,” Zak joked.
Jay laughed. “Surely not. I told Larry hardly anybody is scarier than the Russians. ICE must have some real badasses in their ranks.”
“So it seems. What happened?”
“Larry leaned on the so-called owner, and he nearly wet his pants. Came unglued in seconds. Told him some big shot who was funding small businesses helped him get here and gave him money to start this business. Want to know who the friend is?”
“Caz Morgan,” Zak guessed.
“Shucks, boss, you spoiled my big surprise.”
“Sorry. But did he actually say Morgan was part of the mafiyah?”
“The car service owner thought I already knew or he wouldn’t have spilled his guts in an unholy mixture of English and Russian. Anyway, a few ominous hints here and there and he was more than anxious to produce whatever we wanted. They get the lists because they have to check people in when they arrive. They also man the gate, so people get checked twice. No crashers at a Dunning party.” He chuckled. “Larry says they all look like defrocked Russian KGB.”
“Is anyone noticing the same thing I am?” Nina asked, her gaze running down the sheets of paper.
“You mean the recurrence of people from a number of Third World countries that DI isn’t known for doing business with?” Jay said. “And Middle Eastern countries on the United States watch list?”
“Uh huh. They’ve had re
presentatives at all the events we have lists for.”
Zak frowned. “Something’s off here. If Nate was pirating the Lombardo computer games, these aren’t the countries he’d be selling them to.”
“Here’s another goodie for you,” Jay continued. “Larry showed them Miss Lombardo’s picture, and they definitely remember parking her car.”
Zak leaned forward, trying to control his excitement. This could be good or bad. “They recognized her?”
“Uh huh.” Jay referred to his notes. “She’s been at most of the functions so they remember her face. One of the valets time stamps each car as it arrives—Dunning’s orders, although I think most likely Caz set it up to keep track of people—and when she arrived at eight o’clock, she gave them her car to park.” He grinned. “Just like she always did.”
“Hot damn.” Zak looked at him. “Why didn’t they tell this stuff to the cops? Or haven’t the police gotten there yet?”
“Oh, yeah. The cops. They were there. Within the first twenty-four hours. But these people are more scared of Morgan than the cops. Only ICE carries more weight than Caz Morgan and the mafiyah.”
“You better hope this guy doesn’t run to Caz with news about his visitor,” Zak warned him.
“Believe me, that last thing he wants is for Caz Morgan or anyone in his family to find out he’s been talking to an Immigration agent.”
“All right, then. Dean.” He turned to look at the man next to Jay. “You want to take on the chore of finding out the flight plans for the last few trips Nate Dunning took in his personal jet? And we need the information yesterday.”
“Sure.” Dean nodded. “You want to know if he flew anywhere in these countries, right?”
“Give that man a cookie. DI usually concentrates their international business in Europe, certain South American countries, and the Far East. I want to know any place he’s been that’s not on his usual itinerary.”
“Can’t we hack into someone’s computer setup and find out?” he asked.
Zak gave him just a ghost of a smile. “Why, Dean. I’m surprised you’d suggest such a thing.” He shook his head. “We’re already into Dunning’s files too deep. You need to grease someone’s palm for this, and be sure it’s someone who can keep his mouth shut.”
“Got it. I’ll get on it right away.”
As he rose from his chair, Zak reached into a drawer, pulled out a cell phone, and tossed it to him.
“Disposable,” Zak told him. “Tell Carol to call supplies and have them give you half a dozen more. And I’ll need some for everyone else. These people triangulated on Zoe’s phone by locking onto one number. Who knows what kind of sophisticated equipment they’ve got. I’m not taking any chances. We’ll change these every couple of hours.”
“I’ll send someone up with a boxful before I leave.” Dean opened the rear door, closing it softly behind him.
Zak turned back to Jay. “Keep digging for whatever information you can get on the major players. I don’t care how small the item is. Whatever you get, I want it.”
Jay nodded, then he, too, was gone.
“What about me?” Nina asked. “What’s next on my list?”
“Zoe’s still trying to figure out what kind of computer code was used to manipulate her simulations and why. If all someone’s doing is pirating programs, they don’t need to monkey with the code. You still have the files you pulled before everything got wiped?”
“Yes, but don’t you think the person who wrote these programs could do a better job than I could?” she asked, her skepticism showing.
“I think you are an unbeatable expert at this kind of stuff, no matter how good Zoe is, and sometimes a fresh pair of eyes can spot something.”
“Shall I call her and tell her what I’m doing? See if she wants some feedback?”
“No.” Zak knew he was biting off a big chunk of trouble here, but he wanted Zoe to focus without interruption. And without her ideas bleeding into Nina’s and muddying the waters. “Let’s see what we get first.
“On my way.” She gathered her papers and headed for the rear office door.
“So I guess that leaves just you and me.” Keith shifted in his chair.
“I want you out on the street with your ear to the ground, asking the right questions.”
“About what?”
“Who gets Nate’s shares of Dunning International? Who’ll be running the company? Stuff like that.”
Keith frowned. “I appreciate the fact you think I can even find out secrets from the White House, but wouldn’t this be more along the lines of something you can do?”
“Actually, no.” Zak began flipping his pen back and forth. “I don’t want the visibility. Besides, no one’s going to talk to me. This has to be done under the table.”
“That’s me. The under the table man.”
“Besides,” Zak pointed out, “I might be tagged. The cops and the Russians probably have people with eyes on everything I do, which is why I have to make so many switches when I go to the ranch. The cops will be keeping too close an eye on me. I can play games with the helicopter and sneak around, but anything else I do is just too risky.”
Keith exhaled slowly and scratched his head. “Okay. This may cost some bucks.”
“Have Carol sign a voucher for you, fill in the amount, and take it to accounting. Tell George to take it out of the safety stash. I don’t want a check you’d have to cash at the bank. No footprints here.”
“On my way.”
“And Keith?”
“Yeah?”
Zak tossed him the last phone from the drawer. “Press one to call me. Don’t use this for anything else, and don’t call me from any other phone.”
“You think the cops are tapping you?” His eyes widened.
“No. I think the Russians might be.”
As soon as the office was empty, he called Larry Blake.
“I know you’re just back from an assignment and due some rest. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your little operation with the valet service, but I need one more thing from you.”
“Sleep is highly overrated, anyway,” Larry joked. “What’s on the menu?”
“Wherever you can find it, however you dig it up, I want to know everyone Dunning’s had a personal or private visit with in the past six months. Also Morgan and Detwiler. And I need it—”
“I know, I know. Yesterday. I’m on it.”
He’d barely hung up when his Intercom buzzer sounded, startling him. He pressed the Speaker button. “Yes, Carol?”
“The explosion you heard was one of your clients being escorted to a meeting room.”
Demoff was here.
“And Detective Morales says he’s coming in right now whether you want him to or not.”
“Tell Joe it’s always a pleasure to see him and send him right in.”
He had barely finished speaking before Joe Morales opened the door from Carol’s office. Stress had carved deep lines in his face, and he looked unbearably tired. He didn’t need Zak’s invitation to sit down, dropping into the closest chair and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Okay, I give up,” he said at last. “I want a truce.”
“What are you talking about?”
Morales raised his face and stared at Zak with bloodshot eyes. “First of all, my lieutenant doesn’t know I’m here. If he did, he’d cut me off at the knees.”
Zak studied the man. “Then exactly why are you here? What do you want?”
“We’ve known each other a long time, Zak. I’ve watched you grow your company from nothing to a major player in the security game. I was at the announcement party when you merged with Guardian. You’ve never cut corners, always played straight with everyone while still protecting your clients and their interests.”
“That’s a nice testimonial, Joe, but I still want to know what you want.”
“This morning, while I was driving to work, it hit me. You wouldn’t be playing a shell game wit
h Zoraya Lombardo, hiding her wherever you’ve got her, doing whatever it is you’re doing for her, if you didn’t truly believe in her innocence.”
Zak stared at him. “Wow! Color me shocked.”
“Don’t be a smartass. That’s as much of an apology as you’re going to get. I want to know what you know that we don’t. And see if we can pool our information.”
“For one thing, I didn’t automatically assume she was guilty and shut my mind to other possibilities. I—”
“You’ve been around long enough,” Morales interrupted. “This thing was a political shit storm from the minute we got the call. Nate Dunning has plenty of money and plenty of clout. He supports political campaigns and charitable causes. If you ask these people, he’s practically a saint.”
Zak fisted his hands. “Oh, yeah, Saint Nathan.”
“I’m not kidding. Everyone from the governor on down wanted it wrapped up and tucked away before breakfast. Nobody was supposed to sleep until we got it taken care of.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “We didn’t count on you.”
Zak pressed the Intercom. “Carol? Bring Detective Morales some refreshments while I take care of the client that’s waiting.” He looked at Morales. “This will only take me a minute. If you’re serious, we can do each other some good.”
****
An unusually subdued Ivan Demoff sat in one of the large arm chairs in a client room, drinking coffee and nibbling on a sweet roll. He looked up when Zak entered the room, and Zak tried not to show his shock at the strain on the older man’s face. Ivan looked as if he’d aged ten years in twenty-four hours.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He closed the door and sat down near the man. “What can I do for you, Ivan?”
“I have come to offer whatever help you need from me for Zoraya.” He sighed. “I’m sure you know my position in the community, Mr. Delaney. Whatever resources I have are yours, if it will help.”
