Vengeance: An Action-Adventure Novel (A Jon Steadman Thriller Book 3)

by Nellie Neeman

  Franklin had believed he couldn’t get fired. Turned out he was wrong. He went too far when he threw his coffee at a co-worker. She had made an insensitive comment she later attributed to hormones. She’d been pregnant at the time, and the company could be liable. They fired Franklin the next day. Wang kept up with his friend, checking on him periodically and playing games online nearly every evening. When Franklin told him his idea of selling DNA data, he was skeptical . . . but intrigued. Franklin was, if nothing else, persuasive, even charismatic when he wanted to be. When they’d made a killing on their first client—more than three months’ salary in two weeks—Wang was sold. He used the windfall to buy his parents a new car, insinuating he’d saved the money. By the second sale, he had a list of things he would spend the newfound money on.

  Seated at his desk, Wang took a sip of his ginger-peach green tea and opened his email. A company-wide memo sent only minutes earlier informed all personnel of a virtual live meeting with the CEO later that morning. For a moment, he wondered if Franklin had surreptitiously taken on his old employer as a client. Was his own job in jeopardy? He realized he was being paranoid but couldn’t shake his unease.

  As workers started piling in, he heard the worried whispers as they opened their own email inboxes. “This can’t be good,” he heard one woman say. “They never do these virtual meetings unless they’re announcing something big. And big is almost always bad.”

  Ten minutes prior to the presentation, Wang and his co-workers shuffled into the assembly room. The floor manager set up the screen and audio. At the top of the hour, the face of the company’s CEO filled the screen, a highly fit man in his late fifties.

  “Thank you all for attending. It’s been quite a morning.” His demeanor was frustrated and resolute.

  Wang’s shoulders slouched. Any hopes of good news were dashed.

  “Yesterday I received a certified letter from the New York office of the FBI. They are planning to open an investigation into our company for privacy law infringement. While I don’t yet have details, they believe at least one employee—and possibly more—is selling our DNA results to outside parties for profit.”

  Wang thought he’d pass out.

  The people in the room looked around, as if the CEO was Hercule Poirot. Who was the culprit?

  “Needless to say, this is an egregious breach of confidentiality and of our company’s creed. Consequences are severe. Immediate dismissal and federal charges. That being said, they’ve agreed to give us a week to weed out these employees. During that time they will keep the matter under wraps. It is in all of our best interest to keep a lid on this until either the culprit presents himself or the FBI makes it public. We are appealing to those who have done this. You have an opportunity to redeem yourselves. Perhaps not from prosecution, but from some of the havoc you’ve caused. Coming forward quietly will allow for this company to remain in good standing with our customers. We will of course need to overhaul our privacy software and determine a more secure method of human access to the samples.

  “If the person or persons responsible for this crime come forward within the week, I will personally request leniency of punishment, though to be honest, I have only so much clout. This sort of breach has the capacity to ruin our business and the livelihood of hundreds of employees. We don’t take this lightly.”

  Wang felt beads of sweat bleeding through his button-down. He couldn’t catch his breath. He needed to get out of there but didn’t want to bring attention to himself. He closed his eyes. Calm down. Think. There was no benefit to coming forward. The punishment would be jail time no matter what.

  He had to contact Franklin. But what if the Feds were tapping their phones already?

  He had no choice but to wait until the end of the workday, then see Franklin in person. He thought of his bright future. His app would make millions and allow his parents to retire. His ten-year plan couldn’t be derailed.

  Chapter 30

  Los Angeles

  “Jon, I need a favor.” Terry’s voice sounded strained, stressed.

  “Sure, what’s up?” Jon said, driving to the hotel from the field office.

  A pause. “Let me rephrase that. Israel needs a favor.”

  “Oh, you’re back in the field.”

  “It will need to remain classified,” Terry said, avoiding a direct reply.

  “Whoa. If you mean that I can't share it with Matthews, then no. It would be the fastest way to getting fired . . . if I’m not charged first with treason.”

  “I’d never ask you to withhold information. We’ll both need to get clearance for this from our bosses.”

  “What makes you think Yosef Kahn is going to be okay with talking shop with the FBI on sensitive matters?”

  Terry had already considered that. “Because he’s been trying to get you to act as liaison.”

  “With the Shin Bet, not the Mossad.

  “Wouldn't this be a version of that very objective?”

  “I'll speak to Matthews.”

  “Thanks, Jon.”

  “You’re welcome. Terry?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Be careful. My best friend is counting on you being around for a very long time.”

  ***

  Jon wasn’t good at playing the waiting game.He left a message for Doug to call him, but needed something to keep his mind occupied until something or someone shook loose in the investigation. He looked inside the hotel room’s mini-bar. Nothing but a miniature Budweiser.

  He grabbed his phone, punched in the number. “Hey, Mel.”

  “Hey.” She sounded distracted. “How are you?”

  “Just thinking about you.”

  “That’s nice. You still in LA?”

  That’s nice?

  “Yeah, there’s a temporary lull in the case. Thought I’d see what you’re up to.”

  He could hear her typing in the background. “You busy?”

  “Just finishing up some work.” She continued typing. “Job’s great. My apartment is awesome. I’m actually going to a building party tonight. That’s why I’m doing some work now so I won’t have it weighing on me at the party.”

  “What’s a building party?

  “Pretty much what it sounds like. Most of the occupants

  are young and single.”

  Jon felt a pang of jealousy. He had no right. They’d agreed to see other people. But it was still hard. His feelings were confusing. He loved her, but maybe the distance didn’t make the heart grow fonder. Maybe the old adage was a crock. If he was honest with himself, the intensity of his feelings wasn’t what it once was.

  She asked, “Any chance you can come for a couple of days?”

  “I wish I could Mel, but I need to be around in case something breaks.”

  Mel was quiet for a moment. The typing stopped. Then,” Jonathan . . .”

  Jonathan?

  He girded himself for what was inevitably coming next.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking . . .”

  ***

  San Francisco

  Melanie hung up the phone. It was one of the hardest things she could remember doing. Breaking it off completely with Jon. Again. They’d been through so much together. But the on-and-off was too much. For both of them. She still loved him, but the last few months felt like purgatory . . . neither one of them able or willing to make the sacrifice of relocating for the other. What did that mean in the grand scale of things? Besides, Jon had issues. She knew everyone did, herself included, but Jon was on another plane. An orphan with no siblings, brought up by his grandmother, the survivor of a campus massacre, losing his fiancée. His fiancée. Sometimes it felt like the ghost of Ashleigh Lewis would always be there in the background. There were good reasons for his emotional problems. And yes, he’d made significant strides, but maybe the old expression was true. There are people who come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.

  The Meatloaf lyrics came to mind. Two out of three ain’t bad
.

  ***

  Los Angeles

  It felt like a punch in the gut. Pain, deep down. Heartache. Loss. He knew these feelings well. Better than most. Yet, those experiences had taught him the pain would dull with time. He would be okay. There were so many things worse than a broken heart.

  Lying on the bed, his phone still on the blanket beside him, he forced down the impulse to throw it against the wall. Despite the tsunami of emotions, he realized he hadn’t had an anxiety attack since Erica’s funeral.

  Mel was right. Their lives were not converging, the feelings between them growing increasingly complicated. He was happy for her, but truth be told, he wasn’t ready for her to move on. He’d hash it out with the therapist at their upcoming meeting. It was good to unload to an objective party. But for now, he needed a distraction. Badly.

  He didn’t think, just grabbed his jacket and keys and headed out the door.

  ***

  Luanne was surprised to hear the buzzer on her intercom. It was nine p.m. People didn’t just show up unannounced in Los Angeles. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me.” The voice was masked by the sounds of passing traffic.

  “Jon?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sheesh. Why didn’t you call first?”

  She was in sweats, her hair held back in a headband. She needed a shower.

  “Can I come up?”

  “I’m in the middle of something. Meet me at O’Tooles on the corner in thirty.”

  “Fine. I can wait thirty.”

  “How good of you.” And smiled to herself.

  She hurriedly took a shower, changed into something more feminine than usual, sprayed her favorite scent, and before opening the door, took a deep breath. She stared at herself in the hallway mirror. “He has a girlfriend. You’re not a boyfriend stealer.” This is not a date.

  The guy was a bit of an a-hole and a heartthrob, but she recognized an emotional softie when she saw one. It takes one to know one.

  ***

  Theo was tired of waiting for the bomb to drop. He had stayed up the whole night agonizing about who could have it in for him. Nic had woken up twice from his tossing and turning. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just an upset stomach.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “No thanks. Go back to sleep. I love you, Nic.”

  “Love you too, babe. Feel better.” She instantly fell back asleep.

  At approximately four-fifteen in the morning he had reached a conclusion. He would hire a private investigator. See who was stalking him and his older daughter, Abigail. He knew just the man for the job.

  Chapter 31

  Los Angeles

  Bernard “Bernie” Patton, P.I.’s office smelled like stale tobacco. The man himself was straight out of central casting. Balding, with a well-developed beer belly, the glimmer of a once-fit cop was still present. An ancient mutt crawled onto the office couch and curled up next to Theo.

  This is the best, most savvy investigator in LA? Theo thought. He had made some quiet inquiries and the man’s name kept coming up. For a reason he could no longer recall, he’d held off on contacting the man. Till now.

  The investigator said, “Let me get this straight. You want to find out who sent you something by snail mail, but it’s not technically blackmail. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, why don’t you just start from the top.”

  The mutt laid his head in Theo’s lap. “Many years ago, I had an affair. I’m not proud of it and there’s no point in my offering justifications. It was wrong. But the product of that infidelity was a daughter. Her name is Abigail and she lives in Santa Fe with her mother. My wife knows nothing about her, and I want to keep it that way. We have a nine-year old daughter, and it would hurt them tremendously.”

  “Do you offer financial support to the illegitimate child?”

  Theo bristled at the P.I.’s callous description. “Her name is Abigail. And yes, I send regular payments from a private account and will continue to do so until she turns twenty-one.”

  Bernie took notes. “I’ll need to check if that account had been hacked. Go on,” Bernie said.

  Without thinking Theo petted the old hound. “Two days ago, I received an envelope. No return address. Enclosed were several photos of Abigail."

  “Do you have those pictures with you?”

  Theo passed his phone to Bernie. “I got rid of the originals but took pictures with my phone. I have no idea where they acquired these shots.”

  “Either it’s someone you know, or they were taken off the internet. Was there a letter attached?”

  “No, I wish there was. But there was a printout that shows a DNA link between me and my daughter. It’s almost like I’m just being given a heads-up rather than a chance to stop them.”

  Bernie took a few minutes to peruse the document. “I agree. Have you thought about who has a bone to pick with you—perhaps, someone with a vendetta? Enough to want to ruin your happy home?”

  Theo reached into his briefcase. “I’ve made a short list.” He handed it to Bernie.

  “When was the last time you saw Abigail?”

  “In person, fourteen years ago.”

  “Any chance it’s her or her mother doing this?”

  Theo vehemently shook his head. “None. They enjoyed my visits when Abigail was little but are happy with the status quo. They’ve both made that clear. Janelle is independent and in a long-term relationship, a guy they both care for. I would just be a complication.”

  “I’ll need to check it out anyway.” He looked at the list. “Tell me about these three names.”

  “The first is the managing partner of my old firm. When I went out on my own, several high-rolling clients followed me. The company lost big bucks on those accounts. They threatened to sue but I’d never signed a non-compete, so they had no leg to stand on. They could’ve dragged me through the mud anyway, but from what I heard they chose not to. It wouldn’t be good business practice to sue your old employees. Won’t be surprised if they were behind this, though. Getting revenge under the radar.”

  “When was that?”

  “Last summer.”

  Bernie made a note. “And the next two?”

  “Next one is my first wife. I just put it there as a precaution. She got what she wanted in the divorce. She’s an alcoholic. No way she could be this organized.”

  Theo explained the last suspect on his list. He was Theo’s one-time best friend, Ryan Cook. “We grew up together. Ryan and I met Nicole at the same time twenty years ago. He asked Nic out and they dated a few times. When Nic and I got together weeks later, Ryan accused me of stealing her away. It couldn’t be further from the truth. Nic had come on to me. Initially, I turned her down out of respect for my buddy, but she said she was going to break up with Ryan. Said the chemistry wasn’t there. My big mistake was not telling Ryan. I didn’t want to hurt him or have him assume exactly what he ended up thinking. He was devastated. He lost his girlfriend and best friend in one shot. Maybe he’s been harboring a grudge all these years.”

  The dog was now snoring softly on Theo’s lap.

  “I’ll start with your former friend. Heat of passion. Then move to your ex-wife and co-worker.”

  Theo nodded, carefully moved the sleeping dog to the seat behind him, leaving the investigator to do his job.

  ***

  When Luanne walked into O’Tooles, she spotted Jon seated in the back. He looked older somehow in the dim lighting. And painfully handsome.

  She sidled up next to him. “What are you doing out here? Get lost?”

  “No.”

  “You have an update on the case you want to share?”

  “No.”

  “This twenty-one questions?”

  “No.” Then, “I just wanted to see you.”

  Luanne’s heart lurched. She hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself, but she’d been thinking of Jon nonstop since their platonic sleepo
ver. She’d replayed it in her mind a hundred times, only a much steamier version. “Okay . . .”

  Jon waved down a waiter. “Want a drink?”

  “I’m not a boyfriend stealer,” she blurted out.

  He was quiet. Then turned to the approaching waiter. “Give me Johnnie Walker straight up.”

  When the man left, she said. “Okay, spill it. What happened?”

  “Mel and I broke up. This time for good.”

  “Yikes. Sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

  “There’s not much to say. She said it felt like purgatory. And I couldn’t disagree.”

  Luanne fiddled with her earring. “I’m not into rebounds.”

  “How is this a rebound? We already know each other. We slept together.” He smirked.

  “Cute. But seriously, I have a policy not to get caught up in rebounds especially those fresh off the presses. You could change your mind and be back with her in a week and then where would I be?”

  “This didn’t happen overnight, Lu. She and I haven’t been together for months. We just called it, that’s all.”

  Lu thought about it. She liked Melanie. “How about this? We keep things status quo while you go through your grieving process and if you’re still into me in two months, we’ll take it up a notch.”

  “Two months?”

  Luanne looked Jon in the eye. “Deal or no deal?”

  Three hours later, Jon lay in the tangled, sweat-soaked sheets of Luanne’s bed, the smell of alcohol on his breath, her naked leg draped over his, her eyes at half-mast and a joint in her mouth.

  ***

  New York City

  Terry ended the call with Yosef, surprised that the conversation went as smoothly as it did. If he was aware of her personal conflicts, he didn’t let on. Gabe had made things easy, taking her request to postpone the weekend at his family’s vacation home in stride.

  Yosef agreed to work with the FBI if Jon was among the players. Now all that was needed was an okay from Special Agent Doug Matthews. She could only hope Jon’s tenuous relationship with his boss was at a low simmer.