Flash (4 page)

Jasper watched the little plane climb into the endless blue sky.

“Here we go,” Al said finally. “Roland G. Chantry. Marsha said the story was a bit sketchy. Apparently Chantry and a friend named Wilbur Holmes were both killed in a sightseeing balloon crash while on a photo safari in Africa three and a half weeks ago.”

“Damn.” Jasper had a sudden, vivid mental image of a vital, silver-haired, debonair man in his early eighties. Rollie Chantry had been a savvy businessman with an unquenchable enthusiasm and a zest for life. “You're certain he's dead?”

“According to Winchmore, he is.” Al's voice shaded with concern. “Sorry. Was Chantry a close friend?”

“No, but we did business together. I liked the guy. He owned a company called Glow, Inc., there in Seattle.”

“I've heard of it. Designs and manufactures hightech and industrial lighting fixtures?”

“Right. Chantry came to me for venture capital funding two years ago, just before you joined Sloan & Associates. He wanted to expand the R&D side of his business. No bank would touch him because of his age.”

“So you backed him?”

“Sure. He obviously knew what he was doing, and he looked pretty damn healthy to me. Played tennis three times a week. From my point of view, Glow has always been a money cow, but now it's set to become even more profitable.”

Assuming the company was properly managed during the tricky transition period ahead
. Jasper considered the problem. The loss of the founder and sole owner could easily deal a devastating blow to Glow, Inc., at this particular juncture.

“Why isn't there a file on him?” Al asked. “You're infamous for your files.”

“There is one, but it's in my personal files at home. I made a private arrangement with Chantry.”

“Private? You mean this was not a Sloan & Associates deal?”

“No. Just me and Chantry.”

There was a short pause before Al asked delicately, “Mind if I ask why?”

“I saw it as an opportunity for a personal, not a company investment.”

It was as good an explanation as he could come up with. The truth was, Jasper thought, he did not really know what had made him sign that contract with Chantry. It had just seemed the right thing to do at the time. When it came to business, he always followed his instincts.

Now it looked as if he had unwittingly made an investment that would change his future.

“I see.” Al thought for a moment. “Glow is a closely held firm, isn't it?”

“You can say that again. Chantry owned all of the stock.”

“What did he use for collateral?”

“The company, itself, of course,” Jasper said.

“You did a contract that gave you controlling interest in the event things went sour and he was unable to repay the loan?”

“Sort of.”

“What did you take?” Al asked with professional curiosity. “Fifteen or twenty percent ownership and a seat on the board of directors?”

Al's assumption was a logical one, Jasper knew. A controlling interest and a voting seat on the board were common enough hedges for a venture capital firm seeking to secure its investment.

“My arrangement with Glow was a little different than the ones we usually set up with Sloan & Associates clients,” Jasper said. “Chantry needed a very large infusion of capital to carry out his plans. He also wanted to be sure that the future of the company would be protected in the event that something happened to him. He didn't want it sold off or merged.”

“What are you saying?”

“Chantry did not want an investor, exactly. He wanted a silent partner. Someone who would care about Glow if he was no longer around.”

“Silent partner? This is getting downright weird. What's the bottom line here?”

Jasper exhaled slowly. “The bottom line is that I now own fifty-one percent of Glow, Inc.”

There was a short, sharp pause on the other end while Al digested that. “Interesting,” he said cautiously. “And just who, may I ask, owns the other forty-nine percent?”

“Rollie told me that, although he employs any number of shade tree Chantry relatives, the only other person in the family who has a head for business is his niece. He said he intended to leave the forty-nine percent to her.”

“What's her name?”

“Her last name is Chantry, too, but I'm not sure about her first name. I think it begins with an O. Ophelia or Olympia, maybe. It's in my personal files.”

Al chuckled. “Yeah, I'll just bet it is. Kirby told me just the other day that he's starting to worry about your obsession with files.”

Jasper decided to ignore that. He was still trying to recall the first name of his new junior partner. It snapped into his head with dazzling clarity. “Olivia. That was it. Olivia Chantry.”

“Why does that name sound familiar?” Al mused.

“Rollie told me that she runs her own business there in Seattle. One of those event production companies.”

“You mean the kind of firm you hire to stage a large function like a fancy charity ball or a political fundraiser?”

“Yes.” Jasper rummaged around in a few more mental drawers and came up with another name. “Light Fantastic. I think that's the name of her company.”

“You're kidding?” Al whistled softly. “I'll be damned. It all comes back to me now.”

“What comes back to you?”

“We are talking about Olivia Chantry of Light Fantastic, right?”

“Yes.” Jasper noticed that a small line was forming near the departure gate. “Why?”

“If you weren't such a philistine when it comes to art, you'd know who your new partner is.”

“Rollie never said anything about her being an artist.”

“She's not,” Al said patiently. “But she was married to one for a while. Logan Dane, no less. Even you must have heard of him.”

“Dane.” Jasper watched the gate. It looked like the plane was loading early. He did not want to risk missing the flight. “Sure, I've heard of him. Who hasn't? He's dead, though, isn't he? Got killed in an accident in Europe or something a while back?”

“Three years ago the man ran with the bulls in Pamplona,” Al whispered reverently.

“Probably drunk.”

“For God's sake, Sloan, is there no romance or passion in your soul? Didn't you ever read Hemingway? Running with the bulls is the ultimate challenge. Man against beast.”

“I take it the beast came out on top in Logan Dane's case?”

“Yeah.” Al's voice resumed its normal tenor. “Some say it was suicide. Legend has it that his wife, your new partner, was getting set to divorce him. Dane went a little mad at the prospect of losing his wife, his business manager, and his muse all at once and took off for Pamplona.”

“His wife was all of those things rolled into one?”

“So they say.”

“Where did you get all that, Al?”

“Don't you remember the article in
West Coast Neo
magazine last year?” Al asked.

“Hell, no.
West Coast Neo
is one of those slick, glossy rags that caters to the arty-literati set, isn't it?”

“Yep.”

“I don't have time to read that kind of stuff.”

“You know, Jasper, some day you really ought to try reading something besides the
Wall Street Journal
and
Hard Currency
. You'd be amazed at how much more well-rounded you'd become. People might start inviting you out. You could even develop a social life.”

“Skip the lecture on how I don't get out enough. What else do you know about Olivia Chantry?”

“Just what I read in the
West Coast Neo
piece. Crawford Lee Wilder called her Logan Dane's Dark Muse.”

“Who the hell is Crawford Lee Wilder?”

“Damn, you are a troglodyte when it comes to culture, aren't you? Wilder works for
West Coast Neo
. He's very big in the journalism world. Got a Pulitzer a while back when he was working for the
Seattle Banner-Journal
. He did an investigative reporting series on
one of those big motivational speaker firms. You know, a company that gives seminars on how to motivate employees.”

That clicked. “I remember the series. I read it.”

“Congratulations,” Al said dryly.

“He did a solid, in-depth analysis. Showed that the company was operating a scam.”

“The firm he profiled later filed for bankruptcy because of the article.”

“How come Wilder called Olivia Chantry Dane's Dark Muse?” Jasper asked.

“Wilder credited her with being the marketing genius behind Dane's career. He also hinted strongly that she was Dane's artistic inspiration. That he could not paint without her. When she threatened to leave him, he went nuts. Ms. Chantry, however, made out like a bandit after Dane's death.”

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently she inherited all of the Logan Dane paintings that had not been sold. Since the market for Dane's work has done nothing but explode straight into the stratosphere in the past three years, I think you can assume Ms. Chantry is sitting on a fortune in art.”

“Interesting.”

“We may get to see some of her private collection at the end of the month.” Al's voice was suddenly infused with enthusiasm. “The Kesgrove Museum of Modern Art is putting on a Dane retrospective soon.”

“That's nice,” Jasper said absently. He noticed that the line at the departure gate was starting to move. “Look, I've got to go, Al. I'll talk to you when I get back.”

“You're sure you don't want to finish out the month there on Pelapili?”

“Not a chance. I'm suffering serious fax-withdrawal already. No telling what will happen if I stay any longer.”

Jasper replaced the phone, but he did not take his hand off the receiver. For a moment he contemplated the view through the open walls of the flight lounge. Palm trees shuddered in a sluggish trade wind. The sparkle of sunlight on blue water would have been blinding if not for the dark glasses he wore.

His entire future had been altered by the deal he had done with Roland Chantry. Fifty-one percent of Glow, Inc., was now his.

He released the phone and picked up his flight bag. There was something to be said for a tropical vacation after all, he decided. True, until yesterday, the trip had been a crashing bore. But things were finally looking up.

For the first time in months he had an intriguing project on which to focus his considerable powers of attention and energy. He had a goal.

He not only owned a new business, he had a new business partner. That meant that a wide assortment of problems awaited him back in Seattle. They were the kind of problems he was good at handling.

The fleeting thoughts he'd had concerning a second marriage vanished. Just as well, he thought cheerfully. He was not very good at marriage.

He was, however, downright brilliant when it came to business.

He was whistling under his breath when he walked
on board the plane a few minutes later. When the cabin attendant offered him that day's edition of the
Wall Street Journal
, Jasper decided that life was good.

He immersed himself immediately in a piece on corporate tax strategies. He did not bother to look out the window to watch Pelapili disappear.

Bolivar waved his hands in exasperation. “Know what your problem is, Olivia? You've got no romance in your soul.”

Hands on her hips, Olivia glared up at her cousin, who was perched on a stepladder. “I'm not looking for romance. I'm after a few cheap thrills. I want chills down the spine. A nice creepy feeling.”

“This is supposed to be Merlin's Cave.” Bolivar stabbed a finger at the looming entrance of the life-sized model of a cavern. “You're dealing with a romantic archetype. The fog will enhance the atmosphere, trust me.”

Olivia pushed her glasses more firmly into place on
her nose and scowled at the mammoth structure that occupied a large portion of the Light Fantastic studio. It was one of her company's most ambitious projects. The walls of the artificial cave, inside and out, were painted a distinctive, eerie dark turquoise. The same odd color, a sort of futuristic medieval shade, was being applied to every prop scheduled for the Camelot Blue software launch event. It was Camelot Blue's trademark hue. All of the company's products were boxed and wrapped in it.

“You're supposed to be studying to become a physicist, a hotshot fiber optics type,” she said to Bolivar. “A man who gets turned on by cold light technology and electroluminescence. What the heck do you know about romantic archetypes?”

“A lot more than you do, apparently.” Bolivar hopped down from the small ladder. There was a soft thump as his running shoes hit the bare wooden floor.

Bolivar was twenty-one years old. He had the sharp, aquiline features, dark auburn hair, and gray-green eyes common to many in the Chantry family tree.