Red Alert (7 page)

When he paused, she gritted her teeth. “Are you done?”

“Not quite.” Now he looked at her, and those piercing eyes seemed to cut through to her core. “You live alone in a town house near Beacon Hill, you don’t date, and you joined a gym last winter. You attend yoga classes three times a week and climbing classes every Friday night.”

A chill worked its way through her. “Are you trying to tick me off or freak me out?”

He looked away. “Maybe a bit of both. I want to make sure you understand how easy it is to get that sort of information if you don’t mind paying.”

Meg stalled as fear tangled around resentment in her chest. Resentment won. “You’ve made it clear that you don’t mind paying, whether or not something’s for sale.” She frowned. “I don’t suppose you want to return the favor and give me the thirty-second version of Erik Falco? Since you’re threatening to shadow me for the next six-plus days, it seems only fair that I know something about you.”

His expression closed suddenly, becoming blank.
Impenetrable. “What I want known is public record. The rest is private.”

“Which tells me exactly nothing.”

He took a breath and glanced around, a not-so-subtle reminder that they were standing in the Boston General elevator lobby. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Let’s not,” she countered, knowing she was being petty, but damn tired of letting circumstances push her around. “I’d like to know who’s looking over my shoulder.”

He gritted his teeth. “Fine. My name is Erik Charles Falco. I’m thirty-eight, I’m single, and I’m looking to stay that way.”

“There you are!” a female voice broke in, and suddenly Raine Montgomery was between them. Dark hollows beneath her eyes spoke of a sleepless night, but her expression brightened when she ranged herself beside Erik and touched his sleeve. “Are you coming up with me?”

He stared at her for a moment as though he barely recognized her. “Yeah, sure, I’m headed—” He broke off with a telling glance at Meg. “Of course.”

The three of them climbed the stairs to the fifth floor while Erik briefed Raine on the elevator “accident.” The other woman made all the right noises of fear and distress, but kept herself firmly wedged between Meg and Erik.

I’m single,
he’d said,
and I’m looking to stay that way.

But as Meg watched Raine guide him away and keep him carefully engaged, she realized that single
hood was as good as gone if Erik’s vice president of pharmaceuticals had anything to say about it.

And that thought annoyed her to no end.

THE DETECTIVES APPEARED in the lab a few hours later to continue their questioning. As he sat in Meg’s office, listening to Peters ask her about her business contacts and ex-employees, Erik’s attention was split.

Part of him analyzed the information like the businessman he had become, mentally reviewing the files he’d amassed on the major players at Boston General and Thrace University, and considering whether the threats could be coming from an enemy of FalcoTechno. Part of him listened with the ears of the cop he had once been. But still another part of him was too aware of Meg, of the way she caught her lower lip between her teeth before answering each question, as though this was an exam she was determined to pass.

He was aware of the curve at the side of her neck, where her red-gold hair hung down to shade her face ever so slightly, and he was aware that she looked at him sidelong when she didn’t think he was paying attention, as if she was trying to figure him out.

Or was that all calculated?

The part of him that noticed her scent wanted to believe that she was genuine. But a pulse of pain—phantom, perhaps, but real nonetheless—in his leg was a living reminder of a fatal summer day when he’d learned one important lesson.

When a beautiful woman who has every reason to hate you shows interest instead, she has an agenda.

“I’ve racked my brain,” Meg said, returning Erik’s attention to the detectives’ questions. “I’ve come up with a few other scientists who were fairly vocal in their efforts to disprove NPT.” She grabbed a pen and scribbled three names. “The top two lost fairly major drug-company funding after I made my announcement. They weren’t pleased.” She grimaced, indicating that was an understatement, but continued. “Still, I can’t imagine them thinking that hurting me would fix anything. They’re smart, rational people.”

Erik snorted. “Rationality has a tendency to fly out the window when large sums of money are involved.”

She glanced at him. “Which is why I think that it’s much more likely we’ll find our man on your list. Industry attracts the scientists who are more—” she paused before saying “—aggrandizing. Self-centered. In it for the quick buck.”

Erik tipped his head. “Are those your words or your father’s?”

Her eyes darkened and her mouth compressed to a thin line. “Don’t believe everything your investigators told you.”

“Believe me, I make my own opinions. I just like to collect all the available data before I do,” Erik said.

“Getting back to the matter at hand,” Detective Peters broke in, “our reason for coming here this morning was twofold.” He nodded at Meg’s scrib
bled list. “We wanted to see if you’d come up with any possible suspects. But we also wanted to update you on our investigation.”

Erik stiffened, knowing damn well that self-respecting cops usually tried their hardest to keep civilians
out
of the loop until they had something definitive. That meant that either they were extending him an ex-cop’s courtesy or they had something major to report.

The grim expression on Sturgeon’s jowly face suggested the latter.

“We had an engineer look at the elevators. There were remote-controlled charges wired to different cables in each of the shafts. You two got lucky,” Peters said. “If you’d picked either of the other cars, the emergency brakes wouldn’t have kicked in near the bottom.”

Oh, hell, Erik thought. “How much of a radius did the remote receiver have?”

“A few hundred yards, maybe less,” Peters answered.

That drew a gasp from Meg. “Someone triggered it from
inside
the hospital?”

“They had to be inside to plant the charges in the first place,” Erik reminded her. “And don’t forget that someone was in the cement truck the other day to drop that load on top of you. This wasn’t the first time he—or she—was near us.”

The truck’s real driver had been found between the skids of a nearby front-end loader. He’d been attacked from behind, knocked unconscious and
gagged, and hadn’t been able to describe his assailant. But knowing that their attacker had been right near them inside the hospital, waiting to see which elevator they would board, which charge to detonate, added to the sense of invasion.

“Does the hospital have video surveillance on the hallways?” Erik asked.

“In the hallways and lobbies.” Peters lifted one shoulder in a negative half shrug. “Not in the elevator shafts, though, or in the access areas.”

“In other words, we don’t have a picture of our saboteur,” Erik said flatly. “Or if we do, there’s no way for us to identify him because there are hundreds, if not thousands, of people in and out of the hospital on a daily basis.”

“Which leaves us where?” Meg demanded. She’d gone pale and her fingers were knotted together in her lap.

“Still working on it,” Peters said. He glanced between Erik and Meg. “Until we’ve got a better idea of who and what we’re looking for, I think we need to assume that both of you are in danger.” He focused on Erik. “You carrying?”

“No,” Erik answered flatly. “Not with my current balance—or lack thereof.”

The detective shifted uncomfortably. There was little a cop hated more than being reminded of his own mortality. His own potential for disaster.

“Don’t worry,” Erik said, glossing over the awkward moment. “I’ll keep a very close eye on Dr. Corning.”

“Who asked you to?” she scoffed. “I’m perfectly safe in the lab—have you seen how many codes it takes to get in here? Besides, I have work to do.”

He shrugged. “I’ll watch. Let’s just say I’m looking to protect my investment.”

More truthfully, he was looking to do everything in his power to make sure the sale happened. He already had people on the job. “Use whatever methods it takes,” he’d said, and he’d meant it. There was no room for emotion or misgivings.

This was business.

Meg scowled. “I’m not letting you into the lab.”

“Try keeping me out.” He nodded toward the detectives, who were packing to leave. “You heard what they said. The saboteur could be anyone. Anywhere. Consider it two for the price of one—I protect you at the same time that I’m protecting my investment.”

“And if you’re the focus of the danger?”

He shrugged. “Then I look forward to meeting the bastard who’s after me.”

OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL, Edward watched the detectives emerge and squint into the autumn sunlight that shone down on the sidewalks and thronging pedestrians. The younger of the pair nodded toward the deserted construction site, and the partners walked to the taped-off area where the bitch had fallen through.

No doubt they were looking for more evidence, but Edward wasn’t concerned. The first plan had
been a good one, clean and well-executed, only thwarted by sheer bad luck.

The second plan had been less successful. He still couldn’t believe the elevator car had stopped short of the bottom.

There are no second chances in life,
his mother used to say.
You have to get it right the first time or work to correct the mistakes.

Edward wasn’t exactly working to correct a mistake; he was ensuring that a larger mistake wouldn’t come to pass.

Still, the same principles applied. Do it right the first time.

The first failure could be attributed to bad luck, the second to poor planning. Yet he was still free, still undiscovered. That very freedom gave him another opportunity to complete the task.

The bitch would die soon.

Chapter Five

Three days of relative quiet later, Meg sat in on Raine’s interferon treatment and then retreated to her office to hit the phones.

It took her five calls to realize something was up. She would’ve realized it sooner, but she was distracted by Erik, who’d put Raine in a cab, returned to the lab and set up shop in a corner of her office with his laptop and cell phone.

She scowled at him, trying not to notice that today’s suit was blue-gray, and his burgundy tie wasn’t quite snug to his collar, giving him a more casual, approachable air.

Not that she was looking to approach him, of course. He was her enemy in the battle of the NPT licensing.

The executive assistant at Donoway Drugs came back on the phone line. “I’m sorry, Dr. Corning, he’s tied up in a meeting.” But she didn’t sound one bit sorry. She sounded like she was lying through her teeth. “I’ll have him call you the moment he’s free.”

Which, Meg realized as she disconnected the call, would be exactly never.

She glared at Erik, whose fingers flew on the compact keyboard of his laptop. “You called them, didn’t you? You told them not to buy into my licensing offer. That’s cheating.”

“You’re just mad that I got there before you did.” He looked up at her, his eyes deceptively mild. “Or did you think I was going to pull my punches because you’ve sent me a few ‘come hither’ looks and flipped your hair over the past few days?”

Anger flared low in her gut, directed at herself as well as him. She’d tried not to look, but hadn’t been able to help herself. It had been a long while since she’d been cooped up in close quarters with a man that she—like it or not—found attractive. She’d only hoped he hadn’t noticed.

Obviously he had.

“Damn it,” she said to the room at large, not sure whether she was talking to herself or him. She grabbed the phone, punched in a string of numbers and waited for it to ring through. When a female voice answered, she said, “Meg Corning here, returning your call. Do you have good news for me?”

There was a beat of startled silence on the other end. Meg muttered something under her breath. “Falco got to you, too, didn’t he? What did he say?” She nodded and shot him a furious glare. “Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm. No, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest… What? Yes, I agree that it certainly sounds like blackmail—or at least undue influence.
Would you be willing to write that up and have it notarized for me?” She nodded and flashed him a
gotcha
grin. “Perfect. I’ll owe you one… What? Yes, this definitely gets you priority when the licensing deal goes through.” She punched the disconnect button with a cry of victory and pointed the phone at Falco. “How do you like that?”

With no change in expression, he tipped his head toward the open doorway. “You might want to reassure your assistant that you haven’t lost your mind.”

Meg winced and looked out into the lobby, where Jemma sat at her desk, typing furiously, a hot blush staining her cheeks.

Busted.

“And when bluffing,” Erik said mildly, “might I suggest that next time you make sure to dial an outside line?”

“Hell.” She stared at the phone, realizing she’d given herself away by dialing the five digits of an inside call rather than the ten-plus required to phone any of her possible investors. “That was stupid.”

He shrugged. “Beginner’s mistake.”

She remained staring at the phone, unwilling to look at him, hating the strange tension that had snapped into place between them. “Did you threaten everyone?”

There was a beat of silence before he said, “I don’t threaten, I advise. And yes, I advised most of the companies interested in the NPT technology—those not owned by FalcoTechno and its subsidiaries,
of course—that I would be grateful if they let your offer slide.”

Numbness closed in on her. “And they agreed? What happened to marketplace competition?”

“If any of my competitors thought your offer was a good one, they’d go up against me in an instant. Since all you’re offering is the opportunity to buy an extremely restrictive license without any development potential, they’ve been more than willing to give it a miss. Probably would’ve anyway.”