by Angelo, Judy
Then one day, a couple of weeks after his conversation with Melanie, he came home to find her sitting in the sofa, her feet up, arms wrapped around her legs, her chin on her knees. This seemed to be her favorite position when she was deep in thought. There was a deep crease in her brow, the worry visibly stamped on her face.
“Melanie,” he said softly. “What’s the matter?”
Her head jerked up and it was as if she were noticing his presence for the first time. “Oh, hey Sloane. You’re home early.”
“No, actually it’s late. How long have you been sitting here?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Since six o’clock?”
“And it’s now way past seven. What’s on your mind?” He went over to sit beside her.
“Uhm, nothing important. I was just thinking.”
“Yes, about something very important, or else you wouldn’t be sitting here in a dark room staring off into space.”
“Yeah, but it’s not about anything you’d want to hear about.”
“Melanie, I’m your husband.” Sloane’s voice was brutally stern. “If there’s something worrying you I need to know about it. Now talk.”
“But it doesn’t have anything to do with us,” she said, obviously determined to hold her ground. “It has to do with business. My business.”
“And your business is my business. Don’t let me have to ask again.”
It was only when he said those words that Melanie began to look like she was considering talking, and it was a good thing because he was not going to move until she opened up to him.
“I…it’s nothing.” She breathed in, then let it out slowly. “Well, actually, it’s something but it’s sort of embarrassing.”
“I’m listening.”
She looked down at her hands and when she spoke her voice was quiet and low. “I made a bad business move a few months ago and now it’s coming back to bite me. I needed an infusion of new technology so I gobbled up a film company, hoping that would bring in some new investors. Instead, it’s been nothing but a big hole in my film division's already leaky bucket.” She sighed. “I thought I was rescuing the company but it was the worst business decision of my life.”
Sloane frowned. “But you have deputies who should have been advising you on the transaction. I know the final decision is yours but what about the analysis? Didn’t your team assess the potential of this acquisition before you put money on the table?”
She looked up at him then, her eyes cloudy with confusion. “That’s the really puzzling thing. It was my COO who first identified this company as an opportunity. I hadn’t even heard of them. Then my VP of finance checked it out and they both gave me the all clear.” Then she shook her head. “It wasn’t until after the deal was done that all the rotten details started coming out. It was the financial controller who first brought it to my attention but by that point it was too late.”
Sloane shook his head. “This sounds fishy to me. You had your top guns review this business and come back with positive feedback, and it took a subordinate of theirs to figure out that this was a mistake? Bull.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “You think this was deliberate?”
“Any possibility they’re trying to sabotage your company?”
The question made her look away, obviously deep in thought. “I…really don’t know.”
“I suggest you look into it. Your greatest enemy may be right there on your team.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Son of a bitch.” Sloane slammed his fist down on the desk and scowled at the private investigator. “She trusted him.”
Mark Danvers, looking more like a bouncer than a P.I., shrugged as he lounged in the chair across from Sloane. “And that was what made it so easy for him. He manipulated her trust.”
“But what about the VP of finance? He was in on it, too?”
“Doesn’t look like it. Looks like he was intimidated by the COO who’s his superior. The operations boss probably told him to leave the decision to him.”
“Goddamn wimp.” Sloane snorted in disgust. “I should have both of them thrown in jail.”
“Now hold on a minute.” Danvers put up his beefy hand. “Let’s not jump the gun. I want to dig into this some more. I still haven’t figured out how all of this would benefit the perp. All he’s succeeded in doing is making your wife’s life miserable.” He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “There’s got to be more to it than that. What does he get out of this?”
“He probably owns shares in Rapid Films, saw it was sinking and wanted to dump it,” Sloane snarled. “And he dumped it on Melanie. I’ll kill the bastard.”
“Not until I do what you’ve paid me for,” Danvers drawled, looking unimpressed by Sloane’s tirade. “You can commit all the murders you want after I’m done my job.”
“Well, get on with it then.” Sloane's fingers itched to throttle somebody and if the P.I. didn’t hurry up and bring the guilty party down, he was of a mind to handle the whole situation himself. And it would not be pretty.
“All right,” Danvers said, pushing his hulking frame up and out of the chair, “I’m going. But don’t do anything or breathe a word to anybody until I say so.”
“Got it.” Sloane got up to walk the man to the door.
There, Danvers paused, turned, and gave him a piercing look. “Quest,” he said, his voice cool, “not a word. Not even to your wife.”
Sloane knew Danvers and how he worked and he trusted him completely. If there was one man who could get to the bottom of this, it was the one standing right in front of him. Without a word, he nodded.
***
As expected, Mark Danvers was true to his word. Within a week of their meeting he was back at Sloane’s office with information and, more importantly, enough evidence to throw Trent Palmer, soon-to-be ex-COO in jail.
“Have you ever heard of a film actress called Zena Paloma?” Danvers asked.
Sloane’s heart jerked in his chest. “I have. Why?”
“She was the brain behind the scam sale of that Rapid Films company.” Danvers leaned forward, his eyes intense. “For some reason this woman seemed intent on sinking Parker Broadcasting, or at least leaving a huge dent when she was done. She made contact with Palmer. Told him she’d pay him two hundred grand if he’d convince the owner to buy the company. He folded like a leaf on a hot pavement.”
“Greedy SOB.” Sloane clenched his fists as the anger rose inside him.
“And desperate,” Danvers inserted. “Somehow she found out that he was up to his ears in debts from a real estate investment gone bad. He was about to lose his house.” The big man chuckled. “That gal did her homework, I tell you. She found the perfect pigeon, high enough in the company for his decision to be accepted with minimal questions, and desperate enough to grab what she had to offer.”
“My God, would she go to such lengths…” Sloane’s voice trailed off as his thoughts ran wild. Just how long had Zena been planning this coup?
“Hey, you know her?” Danvers regarded him through narrowed eyes. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Quest?”
“Yeah, but I’m just realizing the connection.” He paused again and did a quick rewind of his conversation with Zena. She’d said Melanie was her target, that the deed was already done, so all that was happening at Parker Broadcasting was her doing.
His eyes snapped back to the P.I. “When did she first make contact with Palmer?”
“Five months ago. May twenty-eight, to be exact.”
Sloane sucked in his breath. “Two weeks after news of the engagement appeared in the papers. She moved damn fast.” He looked at Danvers, who was regarding him with a puzzled expression. “I was in a relationship with Zena and it ended badly. But that was over ten years ago. Looks like she’s the kind who can hold a grudge for a very long time.”
The P.I. grunted. “You must have hurt her real bad.”
“That’s the crazy thing,” Sloane said, stil
l bemused. “The whole break-up was her fault.”
Danvers lifted his eyebrows then he chuckled, obviously amused. “Isn’t that what they all say?”
“This time it’s true and that’s what makes the situation so insane.” Sloane shook his head. “I’m done trying to figure her out. The fact is, she saw announcements of my engagement, came up with a plan of revenge, and moved on it immediately. She attacked Melanie months before she even became my wife. How evil is that?”
In response, Danvers snorted. “The woman is a pro. Now let’s teach her not to mess with the big boys.”
By the time the private investigator left that afternoon they had a solid plan of action, one that would require that they now involve Melanie. So far Sloane had been shielding her from the investigation, not wanting her reaction to Palmer to tip him off in any way. Now that they had solid information she would have to be involved.
He picked up the phone and dialed her number.
***
As Sloane’s executive assistant led her down the hallway toward his private suite, Melanie looked around and the memories came rushing back. Only five and a half months earlier she had walked down this hallway, intent on one thing – to secure Sloane’s promise to give her a baby. It had been an audacious plan, a shocking one, but she was the one who had ended up with the greater shock when the notorious bad boy had presented her with an outrageous proposal of his own – marriage in three months.
She’d come away from the negotiations with a heck of a lot – his wedding ring and his name – but the key thing she craved was still not hers – a child to call her own.
Melanie blinked. She would not fret. A baby would come soon enough, hopefully earlier rather than later. Right now she needed to focus on the issue at hand. Sloane had said they needed to talk, not tonight at home, but before the work day ended. It was critical if they were to save her film division. That got her immediate attention and she cancelled her ad agency meeting and sped over to his office. The meeting with Sloane took priority over everything else.
Melanie was not surprised when she walked into her husband’s office and he waved her over to the couch and began to pace the room. She’d come to know by now that this was how he did his best thinking.
“We’ve got the evidence we need,” he said, “but we have to move cautiously. There’s no way I want this guy to disappear before the police can slap handcuffs on him. Where’s Palmer now?”
“I left him in a financial planning meeting. Those things go on for hours. He’s not going anywhere for a while.”
“Good. Here is what I have in mind…”
By the time Sloane finished speaking they had a plan in place, one in which Melanie would have to employ shock tactics to get Trent Palmer to confess. She was to call him into her private office and confront him with her knowledge of the scheme. Hopefully, he would become so flustered that he would quake under her questioning and divulge incriminating information about himself and his dealings with Zena, the mastermind. Unbeknownst to him, she would be recording the entire conversation.
“But what if he doesn’t crack?” Melanie asked. Sloane seemed so confident that the plan would work. She, however, wasn’t so sure.
“Offer him something he can’t refuse,” he countered. “He seems like the kind you can bait with a good carrot.”
“Meaning?”
“Tell him if he comes clean you won’t press charges.”
“Won’t press…that doesn’t even make any sense. The man let that…Zena bitch…practically ruin a whole division of my company.” Melanie shot Sloane a look that said he’d really messed up on that one. There was no way in hell she was going to let Trent Palmer go scot-free.
Sloane tightened his lips, nodding, as his eyes grew thoughtful. “You’re right. I guess I was so intent on bringing Zena down that I lost sight of the enormity of the situation and this guy's role in it.” For a moment he looked away then his eyes honed in on her. “Let Trent Palmer know that if he doesn’t come clean we won’t even consider a plea bargain. And trust me, his lawyer will come knocking.” He folded his arms across his chest. “If he talks we can consider leniency for cooperation.”
“Well, maybe.” She spoke the words grudgingly but she was willing to consider that…but not for Zena. That one was going down.
Sloane put a hand on her shoulder. “Ready?” he asked, his gray eyes concerned as they skimmed her face.
She nodded. “I just want to get this over and done with so I can move on.”
“I understand.” His voice was heavy and Melanie could tell that although this was her problem, he really cared. “Come on, let’s go.”
She stared at him as he shrugged into his jacket. “You’re coming with me?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You thought I’d let you face this man alone?”
“But what if your presence tips him off?”
“By the time he comes into your office it will be too late for him to run anywhere. He’ll have no choice but to talk.”
“Or else what?” she challenged, giving him a teasing grin.
“Or else he’ll have a very irate husband to answer to.” Sloane gave her a playful chuck under the chin. “Now let’s go before that meeting ends and he disappears.”
Melanie took his hand and stood up beside Sloane and in his grasp was a firmness and strength that gave her a sudden surge of confidence.
She was a feminist in her own way – a strong, independent businesswoman – but it felt good to know that she had a man like Sloane in her life. It made fighting a battle like this one so much easier. And, for that, and the fact that she’d been blessed with a caring husband, she was truly grateful.
***
Sloane put his arm around Melanie’s shoulder as she spoke, her voice clear, her eyes never wavering from the officer’s face. And he was proud of her.
It had been a harrowing twenty minutes in her office, with Palmer looking like he wanted to bolt any minute, but with Sloane in the room, leaning against the door that represented his only possible exit, he had no option but to keep his plump backside in the chair and sweat through Melanie’s interrogation.
Of course, he had no idea his confession was being recorded but in the end that was extraneous because Sloane was right there in the room with them, a perfect witness, listening to every word.
Palmer blamed Zena, he blamed his wife who had pressed him into a shaky investment scheme that crashed, he blamed everybody but himself.
But in the end it didn’t matter who he blamed. He was guilty as sin and he would be made to pay. The only thing was, Sloane wanted to make sure he dragged Zena down with him.
In the end, he needn’t have concerned himself. Once he realized there was no way out the man was more than eager to talk and he was out to protect no-one, not if blabbing his mouth meant less jail time. He told them everything, from the day Zena called him out of the blue and arranged for a lunch meeting, to the story she’d given him about the rosy prospects of her cousin's film company, to his hesitation after reviewing the paperwork, and then to his capitulation when she’d offered him the hefty cash incentive.
“You threw me under the bus, Trent.” Melanie’s eyes flashed as she held him with her glare and even when he bowed his head in shame she did not let up. “You were my right hand. I trusted you.” Then her lips twisted in a bitter smile. “I trusted you way too much. I let you have free reign to make major decisions because I had faith in you, in your loyalty and your competency. Look where it got me.”
When Palmer left the office he was a shell of the man who had walked in. But that was his problem. As soon as they saw the back of him Sloane jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s head down to the station and get this reported immediately.”
He didn’t have to say it twice. Melanie was out the door and marching down the hallway before the words were all out, her mouth set in a determined line, her back straight. It was obvious she meant business.
And now, witho
ut so much as a tremble of the lips, she was recounting the tale to Officer Sutherland, leaving no detail out. Sloane had expected a show of emotion, possibly even tears, but the woman, his brave little wife, was handling things like she made police reports about rogue employees every day.
Still, when they finally left the station two hours later, Sloane could see that she was drained. He gathered her to him, letting her lean against him as they walked back to his car, then he bundled her into the passenger’s seat and buckled her in, just like you would a little kid.
And that was what she looked like now, so different from the woman who had spent the afternoon bullying a man three times her size. Now she was fragile and vulnerable and all he wanted was for her to know that everything would be all right.
When Sloane pulled out of the parking lot the sun was beginning to set behind the hills. He looked over at Melanie but her head was back against the rest, her eyes closed. He reached over with one hand to pat her leg. “It will all work out,” he said quietly. “They’ll pick Zena up before she leaves the country. Even if Palmer called her right after he left your office there's no way she could have boarded an international flight and skipped town. The police alerted the airport as soon as we tipped them off.”
Melanie’s eyes were open now and she gave him a tired smile. “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’m just doing an internal strategy session on how to pick up the pieces. Whatever happens to them, my film division is still in shambles.”
"I’ve been thinking about that,” Sloane said as he stroked her leg, his eyes never leaving the road, “and I want my team to do an assessment of what can be salvaged of this Rapid Films operation.”
She threw him a puzzled glance. “Why?”
