Soft Focus (5 page)

“What's that?”

“No matter what else is going on in his life, Page will find a way to attend the premiere of
Fast Company
. That film is the culmination of all his fantasies. He sees himself as a player. For one week, at the Neo Noir Festival, he'll get to live his dream. Who could resist an opportunity like that?”

Understanding dawned. Elizabeth hurriedly checked the dates on the brochure. “It says the festival starts this Saturday. This is Wednesday.”

“I'm leaving for Mirror Springs on Friday morning,” Jack said. “That little SOB is going to show up there. I can feel it. And when he does, I'm going to be there waiting for him.”

The grim promise in his words sent a chill down her spine. “Jack, maybe we should call the police in on this.”

“You know as well as I do that calling in the cops wouldn't do any good. This is white-collar crime. Nobody calls the cops in on this kind of thing. The goal is to recover Soft Focus, not send Page to jail. One whiff of the police and we'll never find him in time to get the crystal back for the Veltran presentation.”

“I hate to admit it, but you're probably right.”

She was only too well aware that nine times out of ten, businesses did not call in the police in situations such as this. The fear of bad publicity, alarmed clients, and panicked investors was more than enough to make any corporation think twice before going to the authorities.

“The way I figure it, we've got two shots at finding Page,” Jack said. “Either he'll contact me to let me make an offer to buy back Soft Focus, or else he'll show up at the film festival. I'm betting he'll do both.”

“I'm not so sure, Jack. For heaven's sake, you're a business executive, not a private investigator. What makes you think you can find Page?”

“Go easy on the boundless admiration and unqualified support, will you? I'm not sure I can handle so much wide-eyed flattery from my client's biggest creditor.”

She told herself she would not respond to that. She hated it when he made her sound like a brass-brassiered Valkyrie. She was never more acutely aware of her own femininity than when she was in Jack's vicinity. He, on the other hand, had as much as made a public announcement to the effect that he thought she was capable of sinking the
Titanic.

Very deliberately, very carefully, she refolded the brochure and dropped it into her shoulder bag. She gave him a steely smile. “You make an excellent point, Jack. I am your biggest creditor. As such, I've got a vested interest in the recovery of the specimen. I'm going to go to Mirror Springs with you.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don't think so.”

“If Page does offer to let you ransom the crystal, you're going to need cash. Lots of it. No bank will loan you the money. Excalibur doesn't have the reserves, and I seriously doubt that you possess those kinds of personal financial resources. Face it. You're going to need the Aurora Fund.”

“I can handle Page on my own.”

“Maybe. But I don't intend to let you do that. Think of me as your credit card. You're not leaving home without me.”

He studied her for a moment. “There are some serious logistical problems involved here.”

His air of forced patience set her teeth on edge. “Such as?”

“Mirror Springs is one of those exclusive little boutique resort towns in the Colorado Rockies. Every hotel and motel in the area has been booked for months for the festival. You won't be able to get a room at this late date.”

“Really?” She smiled blandly. “How did you find a room?”

He made a casual movement with his hand. “Called a friend of mine who's a vice president with one of the big hotels here in town. He pulled some strings with his second ex-wife. She manages a hotel in Denver. She pulled some strings with the concierge at a place called the Mirror Springs Resort. But even with all that, I had to pay triple the usual rate.”

“I'm sure I can turn up something.”

He gave her a wolfish smile that set all the hairs on the back of her neck on end.

“If you insist on going to Mirror Springs with me, I might let you talk me into sharing my room,” he said much too politely. His eyes gleamed with challenge. “But you'd have to ask real nice.”

“Thanks, but that price is a bit too steep for me.” She forced another brittle little smile. “I'm sure I can find something a little less expensive.”

She turned on her heel and walked out the door.

Oh, now, that was really mature, Elizabeth. You do have a way with men, don't you?

JACK HEARD THE SOFT GRUNT OF BREATH
released, sensed the faint, indescribable disturbance in the air that telegraphed the slashing kick, and glided to the side, turning smoothly away from the blow. The striking foot missed his thigh by inches. If it had landed he would have gone down.

He whirled, seeking an opening in the split second it would take for his opponent to recover from the move. He caught an arm and drew it toward him, taking advantage of the other's forward momentum.

His half brother lost his balance, tumbled lightly to the mat, and grimaced. He got to his feet with easy grace and returned Jack's formal bow.

“That makes three in a row,” Larry growled as they walked off the practice floor. “You've been practicing too much lately. No fair.”

It was true, Jack thought. He had been spending a lot of what little spare time he possessed these days here at the dojo. The hard physical and mental exercise provided a badly needed outlet. It wasn't as if he had a lot of other ways to work off the stress. Sex, for example, at least with another
consenting adult, was out. He'd been living like a monk for six months.

“You almost took me down with that last kick,” he said.

“No, I didn't.” Larry's dark brows scrunched together. “It's not good for my self-esteem to always lose to my big brother, you know.”

“Is that right?” Jack watched a pair of students working at the other end of the dojo. “Who told you that?”

“Read it somewhere in a magazine, I think.”

“Larry, I've warned you before about reading those men's magazines.”

“I only read the articles,” Larry said piously.

“That's what worries me.”

Larry grinned. “You think maybe I should concentrate more on the pictures?”

“Nah. Save your energy. I've tried the pictures. Hard work getting anything of a stimulating nature out of them.”

“Well, they sure as hell won't substitute for a social life, which is what you've been using them for during the past six months.”

“I've been busy.” He realized he was feeling defensive. It irritated him to know that he was making excuses.

He also knew they wouldn't go over. Not with Larry. For all his techie qualities, and they were legion, his half brother had a surprising degree of insight and intuition when it came to people.

They had been raised apart and they had little in common except a father. Physically they shared very few traits except the color of their eyes. Larry was a couple of inches taller, with light-colored hair and a face that could have come straight off the silver screen. They had not even met until a few years ago. But the bond between them had been
immediate and it had proved to be solid. Larry and Megan and their new infant daughter provided Jack with whatever semblance of a family life he possessed.

Larry gave him a knowing look. “You've had, what? Three dates? And one of those was with Megan's cousin Sandra, so it doesn't count.”

“Why doesn't it count?” Jack frowned, trying to recall the details of the date he'd had with his sister-in-law's cousin. They were vague. He thought he could remember a pretty face and a cute, rounded little body. He was pretty sure he had bored her half to death. He knew for a fact that he'd been thoroughly bored that night. His mind had been on other things—namely, whether or not Elizabeth had had a date that evening.

“It doesn't count,” Larry said patiently, “because Megan told me later that all you talked about for two hours straight at dinner was the state of the Northwest's economy, after which inspiring conversation, you took her cousin home, left her at her door, and never called again.”

“I've been busy,” Jack said again.

“Bullshit. You're still carrying a torch for that woman who runs the Aurora Fund, and you know it.”

“Larry, modern men do not carry torches. Remember that. It's important. Torch-carrying belongs to another era. It comes from a time when people did stupid things and got away with it because they said that they had done them for love. That excuse doesn't fly anymore.”

“You know, one of these days you're going to have to stop lecturing me. I realize you think you have to make up for lost time, but it's not necessary. Really.” Larry glanced at him. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Think you could play wizard again and go on the Net to
get me some financial background on a man named Dawson Holland?”

The familiar gleam of maniacal curiosity leaped in Larry's dark eyes. “Probably. Why are you interested in him?”

“I'm not sure that I am. But it's a place to start. You know what they say about following the money. Holland put together the investment package that bankrolled a little independent film called
Fast Company
. I want whatever I can get relating to the movie, and that means that I want something on Holland.”

“I can tell you one thing without even going online,” Larry said. “Whoever this Holland guy is, if he's the one who arranged the financing, he's probably the only one who didn't put any of his own money into the movie. And he'll be the only one who actually comes out ahead. The real investors, the ones who coughed up hard cash, will never see a dime. The only people who make money in films, large or small, are the guys who move other people's money around.”

“I've heard that for years.” Jack thought about the shrine to filmmaking he had discovered in Tyler Page's little house. “But there never seems to be any shortage of people lining up to finance films.”

Larry shrugged. “They're all starstruck. They want to pretend that they're players. Go to the opening-night parties. Hang with the stars and the directors. See their names in the credits. Filmmaking is one of the most glamorous clubs in the world. Lots of people are willing to shell out lots of money to join it.”

“I know. Just get me what you can on Holland and the film. Use my cell phone number to reach me. I'll be out of town for a while.”

Larry's eyes lit with amused interest. “Don't tell me you're taking a vacation?”

“Not exactly. Know anything about film noir?”

“Those old black-and-white movies from the forties? Gangsters and sleazy private eyes and femme fatales? Live fast, die hard kind of stuff? Sure. I've watched a few of the classics on late-night TV. Some great lines in those old scripts.”

“You're way ahead of me, then. But I'm going to learn a whole lot during the next few days at a film noir festival.”

Larry studied him. “Are you going to take in this festival alone?”

“No, as a matter of fact, a business associate will be going with me.”

“Well, now, isn't that interesting. And just who is this business associate?”

Jack set his jaw. “Elizabeth Cabot.”

Larry howled with laughter.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “What's so damned funny?”

“You.” Larry gradually subsided to an evil chuckle. “Going to a film noir festival with your own, personal femme fatale.”

“SINCE WHEN DID YOU DEVELOP AN INTEREST
in film noir?” Louise scowled suspiciously over the rims of her reading glasses. “Hell, you don't even like to go to the movies. I'll bet you can't name the film that won Best Picture at the Academy Awards last year.”

Elizabeth stopped in front of her assistant's desk. “You're the one who keeps telling me that I'm working too hard and that I need a vacation. This film festival thing caught my eye. Thought it sounded like a change of pace.”

“Change of pace, my left gluteus maximus. This is Louise you're talking to. If there's one thing I know when I see it, it's a line of bull.”

Elizabeth grinned in spite of herself. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget how much experience you've had with bull.”

In addition to Elizabeth, Louise Luttrell was the only other member of the Aurora Fund staff. Elizabeth had inherited her when she had inherited the Fund from her aunt.

The framed front-page headlines of several yellowing tabloid newspapers arranged behind the desk testified to Louise's former career in journalism. “Woman Abducted by
UFO Marries Captors,” “Man Eaten by Giant Frog,” “Ancient Alien Mummy Awakens.” All of the stories carried Louise's byline.

Sixty-something, big-haired, full-figured, and not at all hesitant to state her opinion, Louise functioned as secretary, receptionist, travel agent, adviser, and confidante. She arrived at the mansion promptly at nine every morning and took complete charge of the office wing. Elizabeth sometimes suspected the Aurora Fund would collapse without her.

“Damn straight. Professional bullshit detector, that's me.” Louise rolled her eyes in the general direction of the framed tabloids and then peered more closely at Elizabeth. “Talk to me. Tell me what's going on here. Are you up to something stupid?”

There really was no point trying to keep secrets from Louise.

“Probably,” Elizabeth said. “But I haven't got a lot of choice.”

“Let's have it. I can take it. Hell, I've taken stories involving the alien mummies. I can handle your little tale.”

Elizabeth got up out of the high, leather wing-back chair and crossed the antique crimson, black, and gold carpet to stand at the window. It was one of those rare, spectacularly clear early-fall days in Seattle when the local professional photographers rushed outside to grab pictures of Mount Rainier and the Space Needle to put on postcards and calendars.

From here she could see the downtown high-rises, including the one in which Jack lived. She had spent a lot of nights gazing at that particular concrete-and-steel building. Once or twice she'd dug out Sybil's old bird-watching binoculars to see if she could get a closer look at the thirtieth floor. But the tinted windows had defeated her foray into voyeurism.

She concentrated on the view of the city as she gathered her thoughts.

“Tyler Page, the researcher who developed Soft Focus for Excalibur, has disappeared,” she said. “Unfortunately, it looks like he took the crystal specimen with him.”

There was a short pause behind her.

“Well, shit,” Louise said eventually.

“In a word.”

“Just out of curiosity, what kind of potential loss are we dealing with here?”

“If the crystal actually works and Grady Veltran agrees to a licensing agreement?” Elizabeth turned back to face her. “I couldn't even guess. The upside potential is in the millions for Excalibur.”

“And we get a chunk of the profits.” Louise looked briefly smug. She had shares in the Aurora Fund.

“And if we don't get it back, or it doesn't work, the Fund takes a serious hit,” Elizabeth added.

“But it wouldn't go under.”

“No, we can certainly survive the loss of Soft Focus. Excalibur, on the other hand, can't. Right now our worst enemy is gossip. There are already a few rumors floating around. If anyone calls for background on the Aurora Fund's position with regard to our client, Excalibur, we are officially not worried. Nothing is wrong.”

“Got it. Not worried. Nothing wrong.” Louise narrowed her eyes. “In other words, we're in full-blown panic mode. So what's this neo noir film festival in Mirror Springs got to do with finding the specimen?”

“Jack Fairfax has reason to think that Page will show up at the festival.”

“Whoa. Hang on, here.” Louise's chair squeaked as she leaned back in her chair. She cleared her throat. “Let me get
this straight. The egg-sucking, lower-than-a-snake's-belly, conniving, underhanded, two-faced SOB is going to this film festival, too?”

Elizabeth smiled humorlessly. “I can't imagine where you got such a low opinion of Jack Fairfax.”

“I got it from you, and you know it.” Louise pursed her lips and looked contemplative. “Although I have to admit, I've got a sneaking admiration for the bastard. He must have something none of your other boyfriends have ever had.”

Elizabeth glared at her. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about whatever it was he did that made you track him down and throw ice water all over him in front of the stuffiest bunch of corporate honchos in town.” Louise smiled. “I've known you since you were a little girl, and that was the first time you've ever let yourself go over the top and stage a genuine hissy-fit scene in public. Too bad Sybil wasn't around to witness it. Nothing she liked better than to see a little female empowerment in action.”

“I doubt if she would have approved,” Elizabeth said shortly. “Not if she knew why I had staged the scene.”

She glanced at the portrait on the paneled wall opposite the desk and felt a twist of chagrin. Sybil Cabot looked down on her with the stern but not unkind intelligence that had been her signature trait. Elizabeth remembered very clearly the day her aunt had called her into her office and told her that she intended to leave the Aurora Fund in her hands.

“You're the only one in the family who has the two things required to make the Fund achieve its full potential, Elizabeth. You've got the financial know-how and you've got the instincts of a gambler. Deep down you're willing to take a few risks, and that's what's needed to make the Aurora Fund work.”

She'd had her share of good fortune when it came to taking financial risks, Elizabeth thought. But when it came to her personal life, her luck had been disastrous. For some strange reason it was a lot easier to pick a good business prospect than it was to pick a good man.

Louise squinted. “So you're going to Mirror Springs with Fairfax? Are we talking close physical proximity here?”

Elizabeth steeled herself. “No, we are not talking close physical proximity. We're traveling separately, and we will be staying in separate locations.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes, it is definitely a fact.” Elizabeth paused. “That reminds me. I'm going to need reservations, and apparently the town is full because of the film festival. Think you can find me something?”

“Probably.” Louise sat forward and reached for her address file. “Mirror Springs is a popular ski resort, and Lord knows we've got a ton of clients, past and present, who ski. Plus I've got plenty of contacts from the old days in the news business. I'll make some calls. Seems to me one of my editors has a vacation place in Mirror Springs.”

Elizabeth looked at the glaring headlines of the framed tabloids. “He's not a space alien or a recently revived mummy, is he?”

“Well, if you're going to be picky about it—”

“You're right. I'll take what I can get.”

“So you and Fairfax are going to play detectives, huh?” Louise flipped through her card file. “That should be interesting.”

“I did suggest that he call in the cops, but you know how executives are about going to the police on this kind of thing.”

Louise snorted. “Nobody calls the cops in on white-collar crime.”

“For good reasons.” Elizabeth started toward her office. “Let me know when you find a place for me in Mirror Springs. I'll also need airline reservations to Denver and a rental car on the other end.”

“Right.” Louise paused. “I almost forgot, your brother-in-law called again.”

“Merrick?” Elizabeth groaned. “What did you tell him?”

“Same thing I told him the last four times he called. That you were busy.”

“Which is the honest truth.”

“You won't be able to duck him forever, you know.”

“I know. But I can at least duck him for the next few days while I'm in Colorado.”

A gleam of speculation appeared in Louise's eyes. “Out of idle curiosity, whose idea was it for you to go to Mirror Springs with Fairfax? His or yours?”

“Are you joking? Mine, of course. He told me he wanted to handle this thing alone, but I told him to forget it. I'm going with him whether he likes it or not.”

Louise concentrated hard on her address file. “I was afraid of that.”

“ARE YOU CRAZY?”
Milo bounced and twitched his way back and forth across Jack's living room. “You can't take off now. We've got a disaster on our hands.”

“The only way to avert disaster is to find Page and that damned crystal.” Jack walked out of the bedroom, fastening his cuff links. “Mirror Springs is our best shot.”

“I don't like this, Jack. I don't like it one damn bit.”

“Neither do I, but it's not like we have much choice. Remember, while I'm gone your job is to keep a lid on rumors and gossip. Officially, everything is under control at Excalibur. Got that?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Milo's face tightened. “Cousin Angela's going to be the tough one. I think she went to see Ms. Cabot again yesterday.”

Jack glanced at him sharply. “Any particular reason?”

“How should I know?” Milo spread his hands. “Probably just her regular bimonthly attempt to convince Ms. Cabot to stop backing your every move as CEO. Angela figures if she can get Elizabeth Cabot to turn on you, she'll have enough votes on the board to get rid of you.”

So far Elizabeth had backed him at every turn, Jack thought. But an alliance between Angela and Elizabeth was a grim possibility.

Milo stared at him, eyes widening. “You're in a tux.”

“Very observant.” Jack glanced out the window as he picked up his jacket and shrugged into it.

From here he had a good view of Queen Anne Hill. If he squinted, he could just barely make out the lights of Elizabeth's castle. He had spent more than one night during the past six months sitting alone here in his living room with a glass of scotch, staring at the distant glow. He had told himself that it would be tacky to get a telescope.

And pointless.

A purely scientific experiment with a set of binoculars had confirmed that there were too many plants and bushes on the balcony outside Elizabeth's bedroom to allow for a clear view of the interior.

He wondered if she was dressing for the reception at that very moment.

For the past few days, right up until the disappearance of Soft Focus had distracted him, the business charity function had been the high point on his calendar. Typically he avoided such events whenever possible, but he had been looking forward to this one with the same mix of perverse
anticipation and foreboding that he got in the days before an Excalibur board meeting. Another chance to see Elizabeth. Another chance to torment himself with all the might-have-been possibilities. Another chance to fantasize about second chances.

And now fate had dropped a ticking bomb in his lap. The good news was that he was going to spend the next few days working very closely with Elizabeth. It was also the bad news, because they would be working together under the worst possible sort of pressure. He figured he would be lucky to survive with his sanity intact.

“Why the hell are you in a tux?” Milo demanded. “You're not going to a party tonight, are you? You're supposed to leave for Mirror Springs tomorrow morning.”

“I told you about the charity reception.”

Milo's jaw dropped. “You're still going to attend? After everything else that's happened?”

“I don't think it would be a good idea to skip it.” Jack glanced at his watch. “Failing to show up would add fuel to the rumors that are already circulating. We can't afford that. In business, perception is all. Never forget that, Milo.”

“Huh.” Milo's thin face crunched into a darker frown. “I'd sure like to know how those rumors got started.”

“So would I.” Jack picked up his keys. “But we don't have time to investigate the leak now. We'll deal with it after we get Soft Focus back.”

Milo trailed after him toward the door. “Tell me the truth, Jack. Do you really think you can find Page?”

Jack glanced at him as he opened the door. A wave of empathy went through him. Milo had a lot on his young, inexperienced shoulders.