Lucky Charm (37 page)

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Authors: Valerie Douglas

BOOK: Lucky Charm
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“Pleased to meet you Mr. Genardi,” she said, keeping her voice neutral.

He was a hard-faced man, all sharp angles. His cheekbones were sharp, the flesh drawn over them tightly. Beneath a thin moustache his mouth was a slash across his face, drawn down at the corners. He seemed to have perpetually narrowed eyes, looking at everything with suspicion. Even his nose seemed pinched, as if he smelled something he didn’t like but kept smelling it whether he wanted to or not. His eyes were the color of ashes. He had thinning brown hair going to gray at the temples.

“And you, Ms. O’Donnell,” he said, “or is it Mrs.?”

This was Texas, his disapproval of the generic title was there, faintly, in his voice.

“Ms.” she answered.

Which this man knew, it was something in his eyes. At a guess, he had a full dossier on her.

“Have you seen your friend Matthew Morrison lately?” he asked.

Coldness threaded through her. They suspected something but they didn’t know, at least not enough to act on it. This was a trap or a test.

She shook her head in apparent confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” she said.

“Never mind,” he said and waved it away. It was obvious he hadn’t expected her to admit it outright.

Gary said, “How goes the install?”

Her hand went up, trying to stop him from saying the words but it was too late.

“You had to say it, didn’t you?” she said and glanced at the monitor with a sigh. “You had to jinx it.”

She waited.

Keep acting normally and don’t give them any more reason to suspect you
, she told herself.

She was vividly aware of Matthew somewhere in the room.

It had been going so well and it still was.

Then, of course, as the files scrolled, there was a glitch. She gave Gary a mock glare of reproof. She shook her head, fingers darting over the keyboard and mouse, copying a file from one location to another before she started the whole process all over again.

“Sorry, Ariel,” Gary said, appropriately apologetic.

She grinned. “No problem. It’s like saying the name of the Scottish play in a theater. Bad juju. All fixed, it should chug right on through from here.”

With satisfaction, Gary said, “Good. Then we’ll leave you to it.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Genardi,” Ariel called as the two men walked away.

From the corner of her eye she saw Genardi look back as Gary said, quietly, “See, what did I tell you? It’s fine.”

Something dark moved in Genardi’s eyes again and then he looked away.

“Are they gone yet?” Matt whispered.

Ariel answered softly. “Wait, I haven’t heard the elevators.”

In the near silence even the slightest sound carried.

Then came the whir of the elevator arriving, a ding that could be heard clearly above the fans in the computer room. The whine of the elevator descending.

They waited, listening, but there was no other sound.

Matt stepped out of hiding as Ariel stood, gesturing him to stay. “Wait.”

She walked out into the office, doing a quick circuit around the room to be sure they were definitely alone.

Returning to the computer room, she was grateful to lean into Matt as he wrapped his arms around her.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“That was a bit close,” she said.

It had been.

Once she straightened up again, Matthew sat in the chair with Ariel in his lap. “How much longer?”

“About thirty, thirty-five minutes or so,” she answered. “The files are almost all copied.”

He looked at her. “What did you think of Genardi?”

For a minute Ariel hesitated, thinking about the visit and Genardi’s cold gray eyes.

“He’s a bully, nothing more. He has one of those handshakes that crush your fingers. He does it deliberately. I think it’s a test. He wants to see who winces and who won’t.”

By now he knew her well enough to know what had happened. “You didn’t.”

“No, no, I didn’t. He didn’t like it.”

Matt held her tightly. He hadn’t been able to see either man but he remembered the picture. Although you couldn’t tell as much by voice alone, there was a flatness to Genardi’s voice, a coldness that told Matt enough.

“No, he didn’t sound like the type who would. Ariel, is there any way you can change your next appointment?”

She thought about it. “Maybe. To the next in line. Why?”

“The next in line after Albuquerque is Phoenix, right?”

Ariel nodded.

“Can you reschedule Albuquerque? I want to take you home to Phoenix,” he said.

He’d been thinking about it for a couple of days now.

At least there on his own ground he might be able to keep her safe or at least a little safer.

If he could save her job for her so much the better, although that was doubtful if she helped him blow the whistle on Marathon/Genesis.

“Matthew…”

A kiss stopped her.

“I want to do this. If Genardi’s looking at you, he’ll be expecting you in Albuquerque not Phoenix. All I need is three offices to establish enough of a pattern to start an investigation with the SEC, maybe even the FBI, if we can prove fraud.”

If possible, he wanted to throw them off, buy them some time.

Legally, Ariel had a right by contract to have a copy of the data for installation purposes. That was what had Marathon and Genesis worried. If she found something questionable, though, that should cover their activity.

“All right, I’ll try,” Ariel said, “I can complain they aren’t adequately prepared for my arrival. Most of them haven’t been.”

She paused, grinned wryly. “Watch Albuquerque be the only one of Marathon’s offices that is.”

They left by the same means as the last, with Matthew riding to the cellar and Ariel riding the elevator to the first floor to enter the parking garage alone.

It was a good thing they hadn’t taken the chance.

Genardi waited, sitting on one of the smoker’s benches with a cigar. “Ms. O’Donnell.”

He was curious. Although he’d read the file on her and knew her height, that straight back when she’d been sitting had made her seem taller at first. This was the woman that everyone was so concerned about. Definitely a sweet piece. Such a little thing but she hadn’t flinched, hadn’t so much as twitched when he’d shaken hands with her. That made him even more curious.

It gave Ariel a chill to see him, although she wouldn’t let him see that.

This man could kill, she could sense it. He had the capacity to be both cruel and mean, there was a streak of viciousness in him as wide as the stripe on a skunk’s back. He wasn’t only capable of hurting someone he would do it slowly and enjoy it.

She nodded. “Hello again, Mr. Genardi.”

“May I see your backpack, Ms. O’Donnell?”

Shrugging it off and handing it to him, she said, “You’re the VP of Security, you have that right.”

Genardi looked at it. There would be nothing there he knew because she’d handed it over too easily.

“I won’t find anything, will I?”

No, you won’t,
Ariel thought because it would take another computer nerd to find those files.
I’m good at what I do
, she thought but didn’t say.

What she did say was, “There’s nothing to find. I don’t know what it is you’re looking for.”

Genardi handed the backpack back to her. “If you see your friend Mr. Morrison, tell him I wish him good luck.”

It was a shot in the dark as far as Genardi was concerned as had been his comment earlier.

She gestured helplessly. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“It doesn’t matter. Good night.”

He held out his hand to her.

Ariel took it because she had to, because it was expected and polite. He knew that and took advantage of it. He squeezed more tightly this time and held it, his eyes intent on her face. She could feel the bones in her hand grind together. This time she let him see her wince.

“Are you sure there isn’t something you want to tell me?”

Much better, Genardi thought, seeing her eyes widen and feeling her hand give beneath his own.

This time Ariel winced, as the bones ground in her hand.

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “There’s nothing. I don’t know what you want.”

Tightening his grip, Genardi looked around the parking garage.

He saw nothing and no one. There was no sign of Matthew Morrison.

Satisfied, he let go and walked away.

Lovell was worried about nothing.

Morrison had finally given up and gone home, that was all.

 

Watching from the shadows, somehow it didn’t surprise Matt to find Genardi lying in wait by the exit, waiting for Ariel.

From the moment Matt saw the man he knew how it would go, what Genardi would do.

It took everything he had to sit by and do nothing, knowing Genardi was probably going to scare and possibly hurt her. It took every ounce of willpower to keep from getting up and pounding the shit out of the man. Which was exactly what Lovell wanted, a trap that would catch both of them, with his boys waiting nearby. Instead he watched, his jaw tight, from the cover of a pillar near the car. Not in it, in case Genardi wanted to search it.

He watched as Genardi held out his hand and Ariel took it. He watched the tension in Genardi’s shoulders and saw Ariel flinch. Words were exchanged. Then Genardi left.

“Are you all right?” he asked as she slid into the car beside him.

He took her hand.

There were red marks on it from Genardi’s grip.

“I’m fine,” Ariel said softly and glanced back to where Genardi had been. “He likes to hurt people does Mr. Genardi. Remember what I said about some people having the capacity to kill? He does. I have to admit, Matthew, that he scares me.”

Matt looked into her eyes and saw the fear there.

He wrapped his arms around her and Ariel curled into him as if she were cold.

Giving her a level look, Matt said, “If he stays, you go.”

His tone was flat, he would brook no argument on this. Having seen the look of cold calculation in Genardi’s eyes, Ariel had no intention of giving him any.

 

Lovell looked at Patrick. From the look on his subordinate’s face, Lovell knew he wouldn’t like what he was about to see. The reports appeared on his computer screen.

He chose the one on Morrison first as he was the more immediate danger.

Scrolling through the pages, he scanned them quickly, pertinent information jumping out at him.

There were no wasted words. Patrick knew better.

Lovell was furious.

He hit speed dial as he forwarded a copy of the report to Genardi.

This was a disaster.

“Idiots,” he muttered. “Patrick, shred those files.”

The man nodded, gathered up the hard copies and hurried out.

“Mr. Maxwell’s office.”

“This is Jonathan Lovell, I need an appointment to see Mr. Maxwell as soon as possible. Tell him our little problem has escalated into a very big problem.”

“Hold on please,” the secretary said. “I’ll see if the Chairman is available to speak with you.”

Then Maxwell’s voice was on the phone, surprising him very little. “How bad is it?”

“Matthew Morrison is chief investigator for a private investigation company called Morrison Investigations based out of Phoenix. They specialize in corporate and industrial inquiries. He’s their primary investigator.”

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