by Diane Capri
“Seems like making pest control products is a tough business these days. Kelso was publicly traded when she joined, but she took the company private and found funding to make that happen. Otherwise, a few analysts speculated Kelso would have been bankrupt by now.” Mandy paused. “But here’s something. She’s from right there in Chatham. Originally, I mean. Born and raised.”
“She might stick around longer than three years, then?”
“Seems like it. If this bombing thing doesn’t put Kelso under, she could.”
Jess’s phone beeped. “Good work. If you have the time, keep looking. I’ve got to go. I have another call coming in.”
Jess swiped to the new call. “Henry?”
“I’ve got some details on Elden’s number.”
“Mandy just told me. Redirected to her cell phone.”
“Did she tell you the location of that cell phone?”
Jess grinned. Henry and Mandy were involved in a kind of friendly rivalry where Jess was concerned. It had been a long time since she’d had that in her life. She liked it. They were both sweet to care about her so much. “Show me your stuff, G-man.”
“Elden’s phone was pinging off cell towers in Spain last night. Specifically, in the area code assigned to Zorita. I can’t get any more accurate than that.”
“Zorita? Where is that?”
“Southeast of Madrid, toward the coast.”
“Wonder what she’s doing there?”
“Hard to say. But the phone has been there three months.” He paused to be sure she was still listening. “And get this, Zorita is the headquarters for Grupo Lopez, Europe’s largest manufacturer of pesticides.”
“And Kelso Products’ biggest competitor.” Jess cocked her head. “Sally Meacham said Elden had taken a job overseas. Grupo Lopez makes sense.”
“There’s no doubt about the location. She’s had calls from her parents, and a couple from numbers at Kelso Products, all redirected from her landline. There’s a bunch of calls from Alex Cole’s land line and his cell phone to her cell phone, but they stopped a while ago.”
“Any outgoing calls we might trace?”
“Nothing much. One to her parents on her father’s birthday. I’ll send you the list.”
“Thanks.”
“Also, Remington’s team is following up with Winter about the keycard situation.” He sighed. “To them, it’s a loose end to tie up. They remain convinced that Cole’s the right guy.”
After he hung up, she received his email on her laptop.
Elden’s phone had been active for four years. The source and destination for each call during that time were identified.
Elden’s calling behavior changed after she resigned from Kelso Products and moved with her phone to Spain.
Since then, her calls had been limited. Alex Cole, a couple of Kelso Products numbers, and her parents.
Jess closed her eyes and replayed her interview with Alex Cole. He’d denied knowing Elden’s present location. She shook her head. That had to be a lie. Which meant he was hiding something. But what? Maybe she’d stolen Kelso secrets and handed them over to the competition?
There was no point in asking Cole about Elden again. What she needed was independent verification.
She looked at the list of calls once more.
Elden’s parents lived in New Mexico. Jess could be there in a few hours if there were a good reason to do a live interview.
She dialed the number. The phone rang several times before a breathless man answered.
“Hello?” he said, his voice deep and smooth.
“Hi. I’m Jessica Kimball with Taboo Magazine. Is this Mr. Elden?”
“I’m sorry, dear, but we’re not interested in a subscription.”
“I understand. I’m trying to get in touch with Debora, now that she’s moved.”
“Moved?”
“I thought she moved? A new job?”
“No. I think you have the wrong person.”
“Debora Elden?”
“That’s our daughter, but she hasn’t moved.”
“She still lives in Chatham, Iowa? I thought she moved?”
“My wife and I moved a couple of years ago. Didn’t want to, but the winters, you know?”
“So, Debora hasn’t moved? She still works at Kelso Products?”
He chuckled. “That’s right.”
“She’s okay after the explosion, I hope?”
“We spent the day worrying when we saw the news, but she called. She’s fine.”
“Is that the last time you’ve heard from her? Last week?”
“She calls when she can. We don’t want to pressure her. She has a lot going on. Her own life to live.”
“Of course. I’m glad she’s safe.”
“What did you say your name was?”
“Jessica Kimball.”
“I’ll let her know you called.”
“Thank you.” Jess hung up.
Debora Elden called her parents from Spain, but she hadn’t told them she’d moved, or taken a new job outside the country.
Jess added this one to her list of Elden’s questionable activities as she ran through them in her head.
Elden was hiding her location.
She tried to undercut Kelso’s business while she worked for the company.
She had access to a lab containing potentially dangerous poisons.
She was featured on a website that supported and perhaps perpetrated a bombing attack against a foreign ship.
Alex Cole, the man accused of the bombing attack on Kelso Products, was protecting her.
She texted her list and plans to Morris first, and then called Mandy.
“I need you to book me a plane ticket.”
“Back to Denver?”
Jess shook her head. “Zorita. Spain.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Thursday, August 18
5:00 p.m. Central European Time Zone (CET)
Zorita, Spain
Zorita was a medium-sized city close to the east coast. There had been a settlement on that spot for well over a thousand years, undoubtedly because two rivers joined at that point. There were rail links, and the city was well served by freeways, called autopistas.
Jess caught a flight to Chicago and then Swiss Air to Zürich. More than eight hours in the air. She wrote up her notes from the past two days. After that, she studied maps of Spain and reviewed the research she’d downloaded before takeoff.
The geography held her interest with beautiful images until she dismissed it all to study the list of industries in the area.
Two auto parts makers employed the majority of factory workers in Zorita, but Grupo Lopez employed more than two thousand locals.
Grupo Lopez had holdings all over Europe. An evaluation she’d found from a financial specialist rated the company’s research and development far above its manufacturing capability.
Although Grupo Lopez was larger than Kelso Products, both companies were in trouble. The herbicides and pesticides market was locked in a race to the bottom, with each company undercutting the other to trade market share for profit.
Jess closed her eyes to think.
Henry’s speculation about the Italian thug, Marco Benito’s role in industrial espionage seemed more reasonable.
Grupo Lopez was the most likely benefactor.
Which could mean the bombing at Kelso Products was not the product of ideological terrorism but plain, mundane corporate greed.
It could also mean Debora Elden was either involved or in danger.
What about Alex Cole? He definitely knew more than he’d shared with Jess. But was he involved in criminal activities or simply clueless? Or something in between?
Her flight landed in Zürich on time. Unlike the Swiss railways that usually ran a perfect schedule, her connecting flight to Valencia was an hour late. The plane was full and so cramped that she’d been forced to gate check her carry-on.
She waited an eternity for her bag to b
e returned at her final destination. By the time she reached the rental counter, it was 3:30 p.m. local time and the time zone change added another seven hours to her body clock.
The roads to Zorita were smooth, she could drive comfortably on the right side of the road. The scenery was photo-worthy, but Jess kept her foot down on the Mini Cooper’s accelerator. She arrived at the outskirts of Zorita at five o’clock. A loop road led her around to the north, and finally, an autopista brought her to Grupo Lopez’s front entrance.
The town of Zorita had grown around the plant. What must have at one time been open space was now a bustling community.
The plant reminded her of the Kelso Products facility. A collection of large, aging buildings surrounded by somewhat smaller parking lots. A six-foot chain-link fence with barbed wire at the top surrounded the buildings. The entrances were manned by security guards instead of turnstiles and high-tech card readers.
Jess drove the Mini Cooper around the plant’s perimeter drive. The parking lot signs pointed out the locations of various departments. Most were a mystery to Jess. The only departmental name she recognized was relaciones públicas, or “public relations.”
She had to park a good distance away from the main entrance. She walked fast and arrived after a few minutes.
The management offices were a modern wall of steel and glass, dramatically different from the manufacturing buildings. A large sign written in Spanish at the top of the building repeated the message in English. The words declared this Grupo Lopez’s main worldwide chemical production facility.
Two revolving doors were set into the glass. A waist-high metal rail formed a thirty-foot arc around the doors. A bored looking security guard waited behind the metal rail.
Jess pulled out her press card and approached the guard.
“Buenos días,” he said, with no hint of warmth.
“Mi nombre es Jessica Kimball. Me gustaría hablar con—”
“Inglés?” he asked.
“Americano.”
He grunted. “You are here for work?”
Jess held out her card. “I’m with Taboo Magazine. I’d like to see one of your employees.”
The guard took her card and frowned.
“An interview,” she said.
“Ah.” The guard lifted a section of the metal rail. He gestured to the appropriate door and returned her card. “Ask for personnel.”
Jess entered a wide, two-story reception area. Large abstract paintings that Jess guessed were intended to portray some aspect of chemistry hung on the walls. A mass of tiny LED lights was suspended from the ceiling casting a warm glow over everything.
White painted chairs were grouped around white coffee tables. Behind them was a white reception counter, arched in the same manner as the metal rail outside.
Two women sat behind the counter. One offered a welcoming smile.
Jess offered her card. The woman studied it carefully before speaking.
“My name is Sofia. How can I help you?”
“I’d like to speak to Debora Elden. She’s an American.”
“Does she work here?”
“Yes.” Jess infused her tone with false confidence.
The woman nodded, making notes on a pad with a pen. “And may I tell her the reason for your visit?”
“It’s personal,” Jess said.
“Our employees must conduct personal business on personal time.” Sofia pursed her lips and returned the card.
Jess nodded. “I understand. But it’s not that sort of personal. It’s also not a secret. Her ex-boyfriend has been implicated in a crime.”
Sofia frowned. “Then I am afraid that is a matter for the police.”
“He has been wrongly accused. Ms. Elden may be the only one who can help him.”
“Even so, Grupo Lopez does not get involved in police business unless they approach us directly.” Sofia shook her head. Her tone was stern. “It’s our policy.”
“The crime was committed in America. The American police won’t interview her here.”
Sofia kept her lips tightly together.
“Please. I’ve traveled a long way,” Jess heard herself pleading and cringed. She cleared her throat. “Please just check with your personnel department before you turn me away. This is very important. A matter of life and death.”
Something Jess said caused Sofia’s expression to soften. “They will say the same thing, I am sure, but I will check.”
She donned a headset and conducted a rapid-fire discussion on the phone. Jess’s rusty Spanish couldn’t keep up, but she caught her own and Elden’s name several times.
Sofia finished the call and offered an apologetic smile. “It is as I thought. We cannot reveal personal details of our employees. However, if you would like to leave a business card, they will pass it to Miss Elden.”
Jess smiled. She’d accomplished something. The first solid thing she’d found since she started her investigation. She’d confirmed that Elden worked here. Which was more information than she had an hour ago. And more than anyone else knew. Including Agent Remington.
She dug out a second business card. On the backside, she wrote “Alex Cole has been arrested. I suspect he may be innocent. Please contact me.” She signed it with a flourish.
Sofia took the card and read the annotation. “I will pass it on.” She smiled. “Perhaps she will contact you.”
Jess nodded. Perhaps I’ll sit outside and wait.
“Thank you,” she said before she left the building and returned to her car.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Thursday, August 18
5:15 p.m. Central European Time Zone (CET)
Zorita, Spain
Rafa Lopez was the great-grandson of the man who had started a small chemical company in the hills to the south of Zorita. Today, Rafa ruled the conglomerate Grupo Lopez had become with an uncompromising hand.
His father’s decision to take the company public ten years earlier had been a mistake. Lucrative at the time. But still, a mistake.
His father was dead now. But his decision to steal Rafa’s birthright lived on.
Instead of being the sole owner, Rafa was merely the CEO. He deserved total control. Every day, the company was a battleground. Every day he had to fight his opponents before they had the chance to oust him.
He was close. So close. Grupo Lopez would soon be his. As it should have been all along.
He was not born to serve. He was born to own.
A mere hundred million more and he would be his own master. He needed a groundbreaking product. And he was almost there.
Around the dark wood table in the executive boardroom sat six successful men. They wore expensive suits with bright white shirts and dark blue silk ties. A corner of Rafa’s mind seriously wondered if they had coordinated their attire when they dressed this morning.
Rafa shook a sheet of paper. “I cannot accept this. Will not accept it.”
“We believe it is the lowest risk.”
“I don’t pay you to analyze risks. I pay you to achieve the best outcome for my business.”
Oleastro, the lawyer sitting closest, pointed at the paper in Rafa’s hand. “That is the best outcome.”
Fire raged in Rafa’s bloodstream. He shook the paper like he meant to rip it to pieces. “Best outcome?” Rising, still shaking the paper, he shouted, “This is the best outcome?”
Oleastro said, “Yes.”
Rafa threw the paper at him. “Twenty-five million in compensation? That’s the best outcome?”
Oleastro eased himself backward. “There are worse scenarios. The Africans found Grupo Lopez paperwork in the area of the sepsis outbreak. They are blackmailing you. Privately, for the moment.”
“Are you deaf?” He leaned toward Oleastro and shouted. “Didn’t you hear what I pay you for?”
“Our competitors are facing similar threats.”
“Do I care about my competitors?” he bellowed.
Oleastro shifted in his
seat. “We know a man has been watching this plant. He could cause enough trouble without even having conclusive proof.”
“What man?”
“Tall. Muscular. Professional.”
“Name?”
“We have not been able to identify him.”
“So, you expect me to run from ghosts?” Rafa walked around the table. “I was very clear when this business started. I. Will. Not. Accept. Liability. Under no circumstances. Never.”
The six craned their necks to follow his movements. As if they were paying attention, though he noticed they avoided eye contact.
He pointed to the paper that had landed on the table. They seemed grateful to look at the crumpled sheet instead of their ranting client.
“We know their case is weak,” Rafa said. “They have what? A few old people and a couple of drug users?”
“Two hundred people,” Oleastro said. “So far.”
Rafa glowered. “One, ten, twenty? What does it matter?”
He slammed both palms on the table and leaned down to stare at each of them individually. “We will not be held accountable for claims from such people. This is Spain! Not,” he lowered his voice to hiss, “the U-S-A.”
The room remained silent. The lawyers had lowered their eyes. And so they should have. Grupo Lopez paid their firm millions every year.
They had grown soft.
He pointed at the paper. “Which of you wrote that?”
They shuffled in their seats.
“I wrote it, and I stand by it,” Oleastro said. “It’s the wisest thing to do, under the circumstances.”
Lopez nodded. “You are done. I never want to see you here again. I will not pay you to work on any case involving Grupo Lopez. And if your firm disregards my instructions again, we will change firms.”
Oleastro opened his mouth. Rafa cut him off. “Is that clear?”
Oleastro sagged back into his seat and nodded. His firm worked only for Grupo Lopez. Removal from Grupo Lopez files meant he was finished in Zorita. No firm would hire him. His career was over. His wife and children would be devastated.
