Silent Partner (16 page)

Thompson’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, I’m fighting the good fight.”

“What are you talking about?” Abbott shot back. “How are you fighting the fight?”

“First of all,” Thompson said evenly, “you won’t see a nigger on any trading floor of mine. Okay, maybe a secretary or two, but you’ve got to have a token here and there. But not in any position of authority. Second, who handles on-line mortgages?” he asked, pounding his own chest. “I do.”

Booker nodded. “That’s right, Glenn. Russ is in charge of all that.”

“Which ain’t easy,” Thompson said. “Especially when Carter Hill calls me at home tonight and tells me he’s not happy with 14 percent growth. Fourteen percent growth on a mortgage portfolio the size of ours is damn good, especially when it has to be clean.”

The three of them exchanged knowing glances. “Clean” was the operative word.

“And when that
Trib
reporter keeps writing those damn articles,” Thompson continued. “What’s her name?” he asked, looking around.

“Liv Jefferson,” Abbott answered.

“Which reminds me,” Booker piped up, “as a result of those articles she’s writing, there will be no further written communication among us. No notes, no e-mails, no nothing. We can’t risk it. Seems that, somehow, Ms. Jefferson got hold of something substantive. We know the
Trib
is run by some of those bleeding hearts we were talking about before, but we also know they wouldn’t have printed that article without some kind of evidence.”

“Somebody ought to teach Liv Jefferson a lesson,” Thompson said quietly.

Booker glanced over at Thompson. “Maybe somebody will.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“What you have to understand is that Bob Dudley has dedicated his entire working life to Sumter Bank and its shareholders. That’s almost forty years, the last ten of those as the bank’s chairman. During his decade at the top of this institution, he has created a vast amount of wealth for the shareholders. When he took over as chairman, the bank was only worth a few hundred million dollars. Today, Sumter’s stock market value is almost ten billion dollars.
Ten billion,
Angela. It’s incredible.

“But that success hasn’t come without huge risks and a great deal of personal sacrifice. Now, just as Bob Dudley ought to be relaxing and enjoying the fruits of his labor, he sees a potential raider at Sumter’s front door. A raider seeking to take advantage of his hard work and devotion. And it makes him furious. Can you understand that?”

Angela gazed up at Carter Hill from the chair in front of his desk. Hill was leaning back against the desk, arms folded across his chest, red tie falling down over the rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt.

“Angela?”

This was getting ridiculous. When she had arrived at her desk this morning there had been a message on her voice mail from Hill’s executive assistant requesting that she come to his office on the fiftieth floor at nine o’clock sharp. Hill had something of high importance he needed to discuss with her. There had been no mention of what that something was, but she’d had a pretty good idea. And she’d been right.

“Of course I can understand that,” she answered quietly. “You and Mr. Dudley made it crystal clear yesterday morning in his office that you didn’t appreciate the fact that Jake Lawrence was accumulating Sumter shares.”

“Yes, we did.” Hill nodded. “It’s not right for him to do that.”

Angela hesitated. She ought to just let it go. But it was against her nature just to let something go when she knew she was being manipulated. “Why isn’t it right for him to do that?”

“What?” Hill snapped.

“Shouldn’t Jake Lawrence be allowed to buy shares of any public company he wants to, just like anyone else can?”

“Not without making his intentions clear.”

“Intentions?”

“If he’s buying our shares as a passive investment, that’s fine. We welcome his participation in our business. But if he intends to take over the bank, if he intends to make a hostile offer to buy 100 percent of the outstanding shares, well, that would be totally unacceptable.”

“If he intends to take over the bank, won’t he have to send out information about his intentions to the shareholders in his tender offer documents? Won’t he ultimately offer a share price that’s at least 20 or 30 percent above the current market price? Isn’t that typical in a public takeover?”

Hill didn’t answer immediately.

“Mr. Hill?”

“Yes,” he finally admitted.

“Doesn’t that create a lot of value for the shareholders too? And that kind of value is created overnight, as opposed to over years.”

Hill’s eyes narrowed. “Jake Lawrence did convey something to you about acquiring Sumter when you and he met in Jackson Hole. Didn’t he, Angela?”

“No, he did not. I told both of you that yesterday.”

“He is going to take a run at Bob Dudley, isn’t he?”

“I have no idea,” Angela answered politely but firmly. “I just don’t understand how Mr. Dudley can arbitrarily decide it isn’t acceptable for Jake Lawrence, or anyone else, to buy as many shares in Sumter Bank as they want. If Lawrence is buying, then someone has to be selling. And the person who’s selling doesn’t have a gun pointed at his or her head. Lawrence isn’t forcing them to hand over their shares. If they accept his offer, they must figure the price he’s willing to pay makes it worth it. Otherwise they wouldn’t sell.”

“Sometimes shareholders don’t have all the information,” Hill muttered.

He hadn’t been prepared for these questions. That was clear to Angela. He’d probably assumed that she would meekly agree to everything he was saying and leave his office completely shaken. And maybe she should have left without questioning him. Maybe that would have been the smart thing to do.

“I, and many others, believe that, ultimately, Bob Dudley will create the most value for the shareholders,” Hill said. “If you’re holding back information about Mr. Lawrence’s intentions, you’d better tell me now. It’ll be much easier for you that way.”

“I don’t know how else to convince you, Mr. Hill. I’ve told you—”

“Has Lawrence tried to contact you since you visited him?”

“No.”

“Bob Dudley demands your loyalty here, Angela. He could make things very difficult for you if he found out you were assisting Jake Lawrence in any way,” Hill warned, his voice rising. “If you were somehow secretly acting as Lawrence’s agent in this whole thing.”

She stared at Hill for several moments. “What are you saying?”

“We know about your need to be in Richmond. We know about your son, Hunter, and how you lost custody of him after your divorce from Sam Reese.”

Angela felt her anger beginning to burn. How could these men be so cruel?

“Let me remind you,” Hill continued, “Bob Dudley is Richmond’s most influential business leader. People all over the mid-Atlantic region owe him favors. He is prepared to call in those favors if he needs to.” He paused. “As soon as you hear from Jake Lawrence you are to contact us immediately. And I mean
immediately
. If we find out you have communicated with him and not reported that to us, even if it’s five minutes after you and he talk, you’ll be fired. On the spot, no questions asked. The
moment
you finish speaking to Lawrence, or anyone you suspect is working for him, the very next thing you do is call me or my assistant. If it’s after hours, leave a message on her machine and call me at this number.” He handed Angela a piece of paper with his cell phone number on it. “Now you have no excuses.”

“Fired?” she asked, reluctantly taking the piece of paper.

“Fired,” Hill repeated.

“You can’t be serious,” Angela said, her voice betraying her emotion.

“I’m very serious.”

“I’ve worked hard for this bank. I haven’t done anything to deserve this.”

With her fear building, Angela could see that Hill was relieved. Perhaps he’d been worried she might do something drastic. Or that she might be capable of things Dudley and he hadn’t anticipated. “Just cooperate with us,” Hill advised, his voice softening as he moved back behind the desk and relaxed into his chair. “That’s all we want, Angela. Your full cooperation. If you give us that, I promise you will be safe.”

Angela stared into Hill’s eyes. “Safe?”

He looked away, then rubbed his eyes. “Your
job
, Angela. Your
job
will be safe.” She was still afraid. “Work with me, Angela. Please. I want to help you. I really do.”

“Mr. Lawrence?”

Jake Lawrence looked up from the report he was reading and motioned for Colby to enter the small room he was using as his temporary study. “Sit down.”

Colby eased himself into the rickety chair Lawrence had pointed to.

“What’s on your mind, Bill?”

Colby frowned as he cased the room. After so many years, he did this automatically every time he entered new surroundings. “No disrespect, Mr. Lawrence,” he said, nodding at the window behind his boss, “but I wish you would help make my job easier.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The window, sir. It’s a straightforward kill shot for anyone with a rifle and a half-decent scope. Dark outside, light in here. No curtains covering a second-story window. You are terribly vulnerable to attack right now.”

“We’re in a farmhouse in the middle of the Virginia countryside, Bill,” said Lawrence, not even attempting to hide his annoyance. “In the middle of two hundred acres. The closest house is half a mile away. There are huge oak trees all around the house, making it impossible for anyone to see this window from more than fifty yards away. That’s one of the reasons I bought this place, and not the one closer to Richmond. It was your recommendation. Remember? And I’m sure you have men patrolling the perimeter beyond the trees.” Lawrence sighed. “Let me send some comfort your way, Bill. No one’s going to get me tonight. Now, why are you bothering me?”

Colby checked the window once more, giving it a disdainful look. “I wanted to let you know that we have almost completed preparations for your entrance into the city. The target will be contacted later this evening.”

“By ‘the target,’ ” Lawrence said deliberately, tossing the report onto a table, “I assume you mean Angela Day.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lawrence waited for additional information, but there wasn’t any. “Is that why you came up here, Bill? To chastise me about sitting in front of a window, and to tell me that Angela would be contacted later this evening? If it is, I have to be honest. I’m not sure I needed to be interrupted for that.”

Lawrence’s brusqueness didn’t bother Colby. He had protected other wealthy individuals and celebrities, and he was immune to their arrogance. Besides, he was the best in the business, and he knew it. His job was secure. “I came up here to ask you to reconsider.”

“Reconsider?” Lawrence asked curiously. “Reconsider what?”

“I’d rather you not meet with Angela Day again.”

“Oh, really?”

“That’s right.”

“Why not?”

“Several reasons,” Colby replied.

Lawrence nodded. “Go on.”

“First of all, there was an attack on one of our teams today.”

Lawrence sat up in his chair and leaned forward, his smug expression becoming one of intense concern. “Was anyone hurt?”

“One of the men in the unit protecting your decoy lost an arm. Your decoy is fine. He was never in danger.”

“Jesus.” Lawrence grimaced. “Make certain the man gets his benefit.”

Colby nodded. The man would receive five million dollars as compensation for his injury—a practice Colby didn’t approve of. At least, he didn’t approve of making the men aware of it. The prospect of receiving five million dollars might cause certain individuals to act irresponsibly. To shoot themselves in the foot—or in the arm, as it were. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Which team was it?” Lawrence wanted to know.

“Team two.”

“The one currently in Israel?”

Colby nodded.

“What happened?”

“A bomb exploded in the lobby of the Tel Aviv hotel your decoy was staying in. It was just a crude device filled with nails and screws for shrapnel. No one has taken responsibility yet. Unfortunately, one of our plainclothes people was in the lobby at the time. He’ll survive, but, as I said, his arm had to be amputated at the elbow.”

Lawrence nodded gravely. “That’s terrible.”

“So perhaps I can convince you to let us bring Ms. Day to you,” he suggested. “As we did in Wyoming.”

Lawrence shook his head. “No. I don’t want Angela thinking she has to go through something so involved every time I want to see her.”

“I can easily arrange to bring a woman out here who would present much less of a security risk. A woman who would also be a much more willing companion.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lawrence snapped.

“Forgive me for saying this but, from what I understand, your last meeting with Ms. Day didn’t go exactly as planned.”

“How the hell do you know how my meeting with her went? Or how it was
planned
to go? You aren’t privy to everything, Bill.” Lawrence slammed his hand on the table. “Do you have that cabin bugged?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, where’d you get your information?”

“One of the boys informed me that the bed wasn’t used. The sheets were still perfectly tucked in at the corners.” Colby shrugged. “Perhaps I’m wrong.”

“I need to get back to work,” Lawrence said coldly. “That will be all for the evening.”

Colby nodded, rising from the rickety chair and heading for the hall. At the doorway he turned back. “One more thing, Mr. Lawrence.”

“What?”

“I hadn’t informed you of this before now because I didn’t want to alarm you in case it turned out to be inconsequential.”

“Go on.”

“Angela Day and John Tucker were attacked on their way back down to the lodge after your meeting with her at the upper cabin.”

Lawrence glanced up. “Attacked?”

“Yes, sir. They were fired on while they were on that narrow section of the trail.”

“My God, why didn’t you tell me all of this before?”

“It appeared at first that the man who perpetrated the attack was nothing more than a drifter, a nobody John Tucker had hired to work on the ranch.”

“Do you have the man in custody?”

Colby shook his head. “No. He was killed as we attempted to apprehend him.”

“Killed? How should I take that, Bill? Did your people help him die?”

“No, sir. Just the opposite. We were trying to keep him alive so we could question him. In fact, his actions at the point we were about to apprehend him were what caused me to dig more deeply into his past. Past the initial findings.”

“What actions were those?”

“He committed suicide. He threw himself off the mountain rather than allow us to take him alive.” Colby’s eyes narrowed. “He was very committed to what he was trying to do, and I have not been able to track down his true identity. Even with all of the resources available to us.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m concerned that somehow Angela Day poses more of a security risk to you than either of us understands.”

Lawrence shook his head. “No, you’re way off base with that.”

“I’ve been working in the crime and protection businesses far too long to completely dismiss any possibility out of hand. But, don’t misunderstand me. I’m not trying to convince you that she’s involved in some kind of plot to harm you.”

“What then?”

“I believe that the individual who shot at Ms. Day and Mr. Tucker on the mountain was working with someone inside our camp.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Just a sense.” Colby wasn’t yet prepared to tell anyone about the silent communication he thought he had detected between Tucker and the man who was still hanging from the basement ceiling of the farmhouse, the man who had been watching Angela Day. He needed more proof before he would do that. “But my instincts are pretty good. Though I haven’t figured out how yet, I’m concerned that Ms. Day’s presence somehow compromises your safety.” He’d figured it out all right. Tucker was getting close to Lawrence because Lawrence believed that Angela trusted Tucker. What Colby hadn’t figured out was why Tucker would want Angela Day dead. Why he would leave her in that cave alone. Colby’s eyes narrowed. “Mr. Lawrence, my job is never to allow your safety to be compromised. And I never will.”