by Diane Capri
Rafa knew all this and didn’t care. He looked at each of the remaining lawyers, one at a time. They shifted their weight and fidgeted in their seats.
The last lawyer at the end of the table made eye contact.
Rafa nodded to him. “What would you do?”
“We must undermine the families. Perhaps different private investigators from Madrid that are more…effective. Use intermediaries to avoid repercussions.”
Rafa nodded.
“We can have a new recommendation within a week,” the lawyer said.
“One week. Do it.” Rafa left the room.
The boardroom connected directly to Rafa’s office by a private corridor. At his desk, he punched a button. A big screen displayed a view of the conference room. The lawyers were filing out. Five of them waved their hands and talked rapidly.
Oleastro dropped his arms to his sides. Head down, he followed the others through the door and closed it behind him for the last time.
His lesson had produced the desired effect.
The man who stupidly allowed Grupo Lopez paperwork to be found near the sepsis outbreak had been punished. The side effects were unfortunate, but he refused to allow a few miserable lives to stand in the way.
Rafa punched the monitor off.
A manila folder lay on his desk. It bore a circular black seal. He slid his finger under the seal, prying open the folder. The seal snapped in two, revealing the white letters “Advertencia” on the black background.
He pulled two dozen papers from the folder and spread them on his desk. There were tables and colored graphs. A pie chart on the third page was an almost solid circle of green. He ignored a small sliver of red. What was a 5 percent problem against 95 percent success? The numbers were good enough for another large-scale test.
After the graphs was a one-page report from Zambia. The monitoring stations that would prove his success were ready, which was good.
But two dead wardens were a problem the authorities would not ignore.
He slammed his closed fist on the desk. “Idiots!”
The intercom on his desk emitted a single discreet buzz. He might have ignored it, but he hadn’t hired his assistant on looks alone. Vanna Sánchez was as fearless and capable in a dark alley as she was organizing executives. He pressed to answer.
“Yes?”
“Personnel called. A reporter has been asking after one of the employees in the south lab, Debora Elden.”
He leaned closer to the intercom. “Why do they want to talk to Miss Elden?”
“Her ex-boyfriend is in some trouble with the police in America.”
“Has anyone checked that story?”
“The ex-boyfriend is Alex Cole, arrested for the bombing at Kelso Products.”
“Damn. Why didn’t I know about that connection?”
“It’s not in her file.”
He scowled. “Then I’ll need a review of her background and activities immediately.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And who was the reporter?”
“Jessica Kimball. Taboo Magazine.”
Lopez leaned back in his chair. He knitted his fingers together and rested his chin on top. “Taboo is very influential.”
His assistant had known him long enough not to reply.
“Where is Elden?” he said.
“She will be going home soon. I’ll make arrangements to keep her away from Kimball.”
“Have security keep tabs on her.”
“Yes, sir. She’s also known to have a current relationship with a lab tech here, Felipe Cantor.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a long stream of frustration. “Have security remind Cantor that we do not permit talking to the media. And make sure he understands the consequences.”
“I could deal with him.”
“Not yet.”
He ran a quick internet search for Taboo Magazine while Sánchez waited. Jessica Kimball’s picture appeared on the front page of the site. Her expression was determined, but she could not be a serious threat. Not to him.
“Is Kimball still in Zorita?”
“Security has confirmed she is registered at the Hotel Alfonso.”
He looked at her picture again. She was definitely attractive, in a wholesome way that he didn’t normally desire. He made up his mind. “Make dinner reservations. I will speak to her myself.”
“Shall I put Kale on her, to be certain?”
He cocked his head for a moment before he shrugged. “Yes. Do that.”
“One more thing,” Sánchez said. “Tebogo reports the Antonovs are in place in Zambia. Pilot training is completed. The mission is on schedule.”
Lopez smiled. Finally, some good news.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Thursday, August 18
6:00 p.m. CET
Zorita, Spain
A slow trickle of workers sauntered from the buildings and weaved their way out of packed parking areas as Jess walked toward her car.
Farther along the side of the plant was a larger pedestrian exit. A cement sidewalk crossed the parking lots leading to the street where bus stops lined the road.
Jess parked near a sign declaring Investigación y desarrollo and directed her attention through the pedestrian gate. If Elden was working inside today, she’d probably be in there, the Research and Development area.
She leaned against the Mini Cooper and checked to be sure her phone had connected to the local Spanish networks.
Minutes passed. Jess shifted her weight from foot to foot. Diesel buses came and went.
A loud horn sounded three blasts. Jess looked up. The sight behind the pedestrian gate changed in an instant.
Several streams of people advanced toward the gate. Men and women, walkers and joggers, all intent on a common destination. The inevitable happened. The streams converged at the exit, twisting and jostling to merge.
She watched the exit, although actually locating Debora Elden in the throng was a long shot. Jess would recognize Elden’s face, but would she see it clearly among the crowd of more than two thousand people streaming from the plant at quitting time?
The guard lifted the barrier across the exit and the workers streamed out. Some went toward the parking lots and others headed to the bus stops. The joggers continued to jog. Walkers broke into a run waving to catch buses down the street.
Jess could see the faces of people only on her side of the throng. She threaded her way into the crowd, working to a street lamp anchored in the middle of the flow.
The concrete pillar was an immovable object. People diverted around it, creating twice as many faces she could observe. Elden could have used another exit in a different area of the plant, but this was the best Jess could do for now.
She studied the mob. Most wore light clothing in muted colors. Here and there, one carried a briefcase, but almost everyone grasped a bag. Tiny backpacks were popular with girls. The women carried handbags with long straps and the men clutched tailored pouches, some with short hand straps.
After a while, the river of workers became a trickle.
Rush hour was over.
Jess spied an attractive woman, partly obscured by a tall, thin man with short, dark hair and designer stubble. Her hair was cropped short, but it was thick and red-brown, and her face glowed like a younger girl. Debora Elden. No doubt.
Jess left the protection of the lamppost, and moved to intercept.
The man with designer stubble gesticulated with his hands in the Latin way. Elden carried an overstuffed green canvas satchel with both hands. They broke into a jog toward the last red bus, diesel engine chugging lazily.
Jess rushed after them, but they boarded the bus just as the driver closed the doors. The bus set off.
Jess ran toward the bus. The driver stopped two feet from the curb, opened the door, and waved her on.
She stepped onto the bus and held out her credit card.
The driver shook his head an
d scowled. He tapped a sign that showed an icon of a credit card with a superimposed red circle with a slash across it. No credit cards. Cash only.
Jess looked at the passengers. Elden and her companion were seated toward the back. Impatient travelers stared at her.
The driver said something she didn’t catch.
“I need a ride,” she said, holding her card out again. “I don’t have any cash.”
The driver shook his head and flicked his hand toward the door.
“But—”
He glared.
She stepped off.
The doors closed, and the engine revved. She jogged away from the black cloud of diesel fumes as the bus pulled into traffic.
The Mini Cooper was only a hundred yards ahead. She’d catch up easily.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Thursday, August 18
6:10 p.m. CET
Zorita, Spain
Jess glanced behind her to check the bus’s progress as she dodged between the cars on the way to her Mini. She hopped in, started up, raced out, and looped around the periphery of the parking lot.
The bus reached a junction at the end of the street, and disappeared from view.
She stomped on the gas and the Mini Cooper responded, leaping forward with a chirp from its tires. She weaved around a moped and squeezed through the traffic lights as they turned amber.
The Mini clung to the road like a go-cart, staying flat as she twisted the wheel ninety degrees.
Several cars and a delivery truck were between her and the bus. A block later, two cars in front of her turned off, leaving only a Nissan and the delivery truck between her and the bus.
The delivery truck slowed. Its hazard lights flashed.
The oncoming lane was empty.
Jess eased out into the center of the road.
The Nissan did the same.
The truck slowed further.
The gap between her and the bus widened.
Jess downshifted. The Mini’s engine responded with a whining noise.
The Nissan’s turn signal flashed to indicate he was heading around the truck.
Jess kept close behind.
The truck braked to a stop.
Jess pressed on the accelerator, expecting to pass.
The Nissan slowed and turned left.
Jess stomped on the brakes.
The Mini’s tires squealed.
The hood dipped as the car’s mass angled forward.
The Nissan flashed in front of her. A woman glared from the driver’s side window.
Jess held a white-knuckled grip on the wheel too hard to wave an apology.
A car behind her honked long and loud and passed her on the inside, weaving back out to clear the parked delivery truck.
The next driver was more polite. A silver Ford slowed to a halt and flashed its lights to let her go first.
Jess rammed her car into first, veered around the truck, and raced back onto the correct side of the road.
She caught a glimpse of red as the bus turned right. The car in front of her this time was quick. She reached the turn in a few moments.
A one-way sign indicated she was heading in the correct direction.
She turned without looking closely.
Her first reaction was to brake and her second was to curse her luck.
This wasn’t a street, it was a bus station.
It opened out into three lanes. An arrow pointed cars to the right-hand lane. Buses were parked along three islands. Pedestrians milled from bus to bus. None of the buses were moving, which gave her no clue which bus Elden had boarded.
All the buses looked identical.
In her haste to run to her car, she’d neglected to read the bus number. She couldn’t remember the advertising on its side. All the ads were similar.
She had no choice but to check each bus, one at a time.
She slowed the Mini alongside a line of vehicles and dove into a small space perfect for the diminutive car.
Two buses pulled away. She ran across the road watching the right-side windows as the buses passed, hoping to find Elden still sitting where Jess had seen her.
Elden wasn’t there.
It wasn’t a far trip from the plant. Maybe she could have changed buses and moved to the opposite side.
Jess darted through the crowds lining up along the first island, checking the buses on either side. No Elden.
As she crossed to the second island, she caught a flash of neon green. She stared. Elden’s canvas satchel?
Jess ran alongside the bus.
Yes! She fist-pumped the air.
Elden was there. Still seated beside Designer Stubble, her green bag wedged against the window.
Jess memorized the vehicle’s numberplate, and dashed to her Mini. She squeezed out of the tight space and edged down to the end of the island.
The flow of traffic was one-way. The bus would have to pass her.
A driver honked his horn because her car was poking out into the travel lane. Jess ignored him to focus on Elden’s bus as it passed by. She pulled out after it.
This time, no vehicles blocked her view of the bus. She breathed easy. The bus stopped occasionally. When it did, Jess moved close to the curb, leaning over to watch the passengers disembark.
After fifteen minutes, they were approaching the busy center of Zorita.
The bus slowed by a line of shops. Jess leaned over, watching the passengers.
Elden disembarked with the same man, and they walked north along the sidewalk. Her neon green bag was unmistakable.
The bus pulled away. Jess scanned for a parking space. The curb along the shops was painted yellow, which she assumed meant no parking. The yellow line disappeared around the corner, but the street was packed with parked cars.
She raced around the block without any luck, and emerged onto the main road again.
Elden had the green satchel folded up under her arm. She and Designer Stubble exited a dry cleaner. They continued north, away from Jess.
Jess rolled past the walking couple. She turned at the corner and halfway down the side street she found a car pulling out. She waited on the side of the road with her signal flashing to claim the spot.
In her rear-view mirror, she saw Elden and the man cross the side street.
Jess twisted the steering wheel hard, dived into the parking spot, and ran after the couple.
She spotted them two blocks away. She followed briskly.
Catching up with Elden in the street might not be the best idea. Ordinary people didn’t appreciate being interviewed in public places.
She slowed her pace when she was a block behind Elden, walking purposefully. They were headed home after a day’s work, not idling time away on a stroll.
They went into a supermarket. Jess lingered at the front of the store until Elden was in line at the checkout.
Jess stepped outside. The light was fading. Cars streamed by. She recognized the silver Ford that had let her into the flow of traffic earlier. A minute passed.
The supermarket windows were wide and tall, brightly backlit. Jess glanced inside again. An old lady was at the register where Elden had been standing. Elden and the man were no longer in line.
Jess went inside and walked along the row of cashiers. She hurried to the rear of the store. Dammit! They must have exited through the back door.
Jess darted outside. She had driven this street looking for a parking space. The sidewalks were as busy here as they were out front.
She peered in both directions. A flash of green to the north might be Elden’s satchel. Otherwise, the couple had simply disappeared.
Jess headed north at a brisk pace.
She dodged left and right, looking two moves ahead to avoid being caught behind slower pedestrian traffic.
Up ahead, she spotted Elden turning into an alley. Jess stepped out into the road and hustled around the traffic. When she reached the alley, she ran to the far end just as Elden climbed toward an upstai
rs apartment.
Jess approached the building. A locked door with an intercom and a single button. She pressed the button and heard a buzz somewhere inside, but no one answered. The building contained several apartments, so she waited on the sidewalk.
Thirty minutes later, no one had entered or exited. She rang the buzzer again, but got no response. Again.
Her adrenaline had waned and she realized how exhausted she was. She needed food and sleep.
She shrugged, and walked back to her Mini.
Finding Elden had been a stroke of luck. Tomorrow Jess would be ready.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Thursday, August 18
6:45 p.m. CET
Zorita, Spain
Jess quickly calculated the time back in Denver, which was eight hours earlier. Henry should be in his office. She pushed his number on her speed dial. She waited through a long delay and several clicks before his phone rang. He answered almost immediately.
“How was the flight?”
“Exactly as expected. Which is all we can hope for these days, right?”
He laughed. “And Europe?”
“I can’t speak for all of it, but the part I’m in is pretty nice. I found Elden.”
“Already?”
“She works at Grupo Lopez.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing. I saw her leaving work, but lost her in the crowds. I’ll try again tomorrow.”
“I have a little more info for you. Elden traveled from Zorita to Chatham three times in the last three months. Always on a weekend.”
“Interesting.”
“And it could still be perfectly innocent.”
“Apart from the fact she hasn’t told her family and friends that she’s moved abroad and doesn’t tell them when she’s coming in and out, either.”
“Also, Remington’s team questioned Winter. She’s a pretty tough cookie, apparently. She denied all but the vaguest knowledge of Debora Elden, and swore Elden does not have access to Kelso Products labs.”
