A Billion Little Clues (13 page)

The receptionist behind the desk on the third floor was a young man, but aside from that minor detail, he might as well have been Eleanor's twin. He had the same super-expensive clothes labels, the same lazy posture, and the same long stare that told me just how badly I failed his judgement call. He also had the high cheekbones and lanky look of a model. Still, he didn't compare to Roman. He looked way too fragile, too flighty.

"Yes?" he finally said to me with a sigh as I approached the desk. Yes, like his browsing of Facebook was any more important than attending to real customers. Not that I was a customer, that is, but maybe I could be! Perhaps I was a billionaire myself, but preferred not to waste money on expensive clothes.

Who was I kidding? If I had a billion dollars, I'd be all up and down the shops every single day, buying way too many outfits to ever wear.

"Hi, I'm here on behalf of Mr. Wayland." This time, I made sure that my greeting was equally cool. I tried to think professional thoughts and keep my spine straight. "I'm here to speak to Zinn."

The man's eyes rolled over me. He did not look impressed. "For Zinn?" he repeated. He didn't sound very convinced. "From Mr. Wayland's office."

"Yes," I nodded. I tried to stick to my guns. "I'm his newest personal assistant. Mr. Wayland, that is. Roman. Not Zinn." I suddenly remembered the letter that I had been given, and pulled it out of my purse. I held it out to the man like a peace treaty, waiting uncomfortably as he took it from my fingers and examined it closely.

"Very well," he finally said, handing the paper back to me and looking slightly frustrated that I was managing to get past his defenses. "I'll go inform Mr. Zinner. Please have a seat and wait, and he should be with you... shortly."

That pause concerned me a little, but I was at least making progress. I took a seat in one of the chairs near the elevator as the man rose lithely up from his desk and strode into the back offices.

The chair was surprisingly uncomfortable for how much it surely cost, but I didn't have much time to reflect on this. It couldn't have been more than a minute before a man in a suit came bounding up towards me, all but hopping on the balls of his feet. "Ah, Mr. Wayland's newest assistant!" he cried out as he approached. "So good to have you visit!"

I rose up from the chair, holding out my hand. This must be Zinn, I guessed. And indeed, I remembered him from Roman's party. He still had his hair slicked back over his head, running down to curl around the nape of his neck, and although this suit was different from the one he'd been wearing that night, it looked no less expensive.

Zinn's grasp swallowed up my hand as he wrapped both of his around it. Going for the two-handed handshake? It was definitely bold, but I didn't quite know how to feel about it. And that sense of vague unease was a little bit more emphasized when he lifted my palm up to his lips for a little kiss.

"Welcome," Zinn repeated as he lowered my hand. "Shall we head back to my office? I'm sure that whatever you need to discuss deserves the utmost privacy." He beckoned, and I followed his waiting hand.

Zinn led me through a small warren of offices until we emerged into his. Just like Roman's office, it was quite large, and it practically screamed luxury. But that was where the similarities ended.

Roman's office was the picture of precision and cold focus, with lots of glass, modern touches on the chairs and designs, and colored in dark, neutral colors. It practically shouted out that this was a place for work, not for enjoyment. Everything inside of it was for a specific purpose, and while there was definitely hints of wealth, they were subtle and well hidden, only noticeable as a vague feeling.

Zinn's office, on the other hand, practically hit me over the head with a hammer as I walked inside. From the velvet red carpet to the Oriental rug carelessly spread atop it, to the grandfather clock with the gold face and hands, to the glass cases scattered about the room and filled with an eclectic assortment of artifacts, everything in this place shouted out, "look at me! Imagine how wealthy my owner must be!"

Once I was inside, Zinn closed the door, and walked around me to take a seat behind his desk (very heavy, made of dark wood with a ton of gold accents in the carvings here and there. I wouldn't be surprised if that was real gold leaf on it). I couldn't help comparing this to Roman's desk, little more than a glass slab upon which his computer and papers sat. Zinn plopped down into a leather chair behind his desk, interlaced his fingers, and then looked over them at me. "So," he announced. "What can I do for Mr. Wayland today?"

Ah yes. Back to business. "Roman- that is, Mr. Wayland - is doing a bit of digging to see who might have a grudge against him, or against Mr. Silvers," I said. "He thinks it might help him figure out who wants to frame him."

Zinn's face furrowed for an instant, and then smoothed out again. "Ah, the whole issue of the murder," he said. "Very unfortunate matter, that is. However, I've told Mr. Wayland not to worry - there's no way the police will be able to build a case against him." The man temporarily unlaced his fingers to stroke his suit lapels. "That is why he employs me, you know. For issues such as these."

The guy certainly didn't bother to contain his ego much, did he? My eyes dropped momentarily to his desk, and I noticed that one of the photos turned towards me showed Zinn standing on the deck of a large sailboat. And he certainly didn't bother to conceal his wealth, either. "Mr. Wayland understands this, and is super grateful for your service," I said, trying to sound gracious.

Zinn was still not looking convinced, so I lowered my voice a little, leaning in. "Still, he feels that this could be something to address moving forward. For the health of the company. I'm sure you understand." I wasn't quite sure what I meant by this, but it sounded like something that high-powered businessmen would say. I hoped that it would work.

And after a second, Zinn sat back, nodding. I was elated. I had pulled that phrase out of my ass, and it had worked! "Of course," he said, turning to his computer and hitting a couple of keys. "Let me see what I can find."

After a moment, the man made a little noise of announcement. "Actually, I believe I have a complaint that may be of interest," he said, looking up at me. For a moment, his eyes narrowed, and he seemed to lose his train of thought. "Hold on - I know you from somewhere, don't I?"

Was he thinking of Roman's party? "I don't think so," I politely replied. "I don't think we've met before this. I'm very new." At least to working with Roman. I didn't think it worth mentioning that I'd been with Panther Worldwide in a much lower role before a day ago.

But Zinn wasn't convinced, shaking his head back and forth. "Anyway, here's the complaint I was mentioning previously," he said after a long minute, nodding to his screen. "It seems that Mr. Silvers had a recent confrontation with Panther's CTO. There was some heated shouting, and the CTO filed a formal complaint."

The acronym meant nothing to me. "The CTO, yes," I said, pretending that I knew what I was talking about.

Zinn glanced up at me. "Yes, Carrie Matthew, the chief technology officer," he said. "She's the head of IT and a lot of the technological development behind Panther's continuing brand success. She recently had her budget cut, and insisted that Silvers refused to recognize IT's continued budgetary needs."

I still wasn't clear on what this meant, but at least now I had another name! Carrie Matthew. And she had been fighting with Silvers. Perhaps it was that simple - at the party, she had gotten drunk on too much champagne or fancy martinis and decided to take out her anger on him with a hit to the head!

I was distracted from this thought by Zinn snapping his fingers and pointing at me. "Wait a minute!" he cried out. "I know where I saw you before! You were at Mr. Wayland's party, weren't you? That's it!"

Um. Did I try to lie? I couldn't think of anything that would be convincing, so I decided to fall back on the truth. "Yes," I said, nodding. "You must have seen me there."

Zinn was still nodding, but he had now risen up out of his seat and was circling around his desk towards me. There was a rather predatory glint in his eyes. "And you were in a very sexy dress, as I recall," he went on. His eyes ducked down to run over my current outfit. "If that party hadn't come to such an unfortunate end, I would have offered to buy you a drink."

"The drinks were free," I pointed out.

The lawyer tossed back his head and laughed, as if I'd just told a hilariously funny joke. "Then perhaps I would have offered you a spin in my car," he countered. "It's a Lamborghini, you know. Cost me over a quarter million dollars."

I know that I was supposed to be impressed with this man. And if he'd approached me a week earlier, I probably would have been. He was most definitely well off, and when I forced myself to consider it, he wasn't terrible looking. His hair was a little greasy, but he was young, and kind of attractive, and definitely well off.

But compared to Roman, he just couldn't compete. Something about Zinn, about the way he acted, just left me feeling a little dirty, as though I'd just had to fish something out of the garbage. Roman was just so much more... sincere! When Roman said something, I just implicitly knew that it was true, that he wasn't playing a game with me. WIth Zinn, on the other hand, I got the idea that everything was a game to him.

"That's nice," I commented, not wanting to be mean to this lawyer. He was Roman's personal counsel, after all. "But I think that I should probably be heading out. Have to go tell Roman about this news, you know?"

I rose up from my seat, turning towards the door, but the lawyer was between me and my exit. "Come now, how about letting me take you out?" he asked, grinning at me. "I'll pick you up, and we can go out to any restaurant you choose. There's an amazing new sushi restaurant downtown. Very high class."

"Thank you, but no," I told him, attempting to step to the side and get around him. But Zinn turned with me, keeping between me and the door.

"Just one date," he wheedled. "It would let you wear that sexy dress again..."

How could I get out of this? "Actually, um, I'm kind of seeing someone," I suddenly blurted out. "I would love to go out with you, but I'm not on the market."

Zinn raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't have to know."

Oh god, the man was sleazy! "No, thanks," I said, stepping forward. Screw him being in the way! I had elbows, didn't I? I pushed past the lawyer and strode out of the office, not looking back.

Once I was outside, I took a deep breath to calm myself down. Roman's lawyer might be a bit of a sleazeball, but he had still been helpful and had given me a new lead. Carrie Matthew, head of IT. Someone with a grudge against Silvers. Was it enough of a reason to commit murder?

I was going to find out.

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Back in Roman's office, I sat in that uncomfortable modern chair and watched the billionaire pace back and forth, shaking his head. "You're sure about this?" he asked for what had to be the fourth time. "Carrie Matthew? My CTO? Zinn thinks that she might be responsible?"

And again, for the fourth time, I nodded in assent. "That's what he told me," I repeated. Briefly, I thought of the man's lips pressed against my hand, and I shuddered slightly. "Not all he told me, but the rest doesn't really matter."

Fortunately, Roman appeared lost in thought, still walking back and forth. He hadn't seen my brief look of disgust as I thought about his rather slippery lawyer. "Carrie," he said yet again. "I know that she's been in a foul mood recently, but I never thought that she'd even consider anything as dramatic as this."

I was getting tired of watching Roman pace back and forth. If nothing else, his repetitive motions were going to wear a hole in the floor, and that rug tossed carelessly down probably cost more than my apartment. "So, do you want to go talk to Carrie?" I asked him.

This at least made the man pause for a minute, but he didn't look as though he knew quite what his plan of action was. "Maybe?" he said, and when he turned towards me, I could see helplessness painted clearly across his face. "But Carrie's been with me forever, and she's so loyal to this company. I just don't even know what to say to her!"

Uh oh. This didn't look good. I wasn't positive, but it appeared to me as though my fearless leader, the cool billionaire CEO who always had a plan, was starting to fray at the edges a bit. I wondered whether the call from the police, the message that Eleanor had so rudely dropped off in the middle of my last meeting with the man, hadn't gone as well as he had hoped. Maybe the police really were closing in on Roman as their prime suspect, and he was starting to realize that he could actually be potentially hauled off to jail.

I thought about trying to cheer the man up, but how in the world could I accomplish that? Short of stripping naked in front of him and doing a little dance, shaking my tits back and forth at his face, I wasn't quite sure how to make him smile.