The Insider (8 page)

“Absolutely,” Jay agreed. “What are you doing here?” He noticed that even though Oliver was wearing casual clothes, he still emitted an in-charge, businesslike manner.

An irritated expression twisted Oliver’s face. “Fucking Barbara. She’s so inept sometimes. She forgets to buy my gin, then forgets to tell you to pick up sunscreen. I must have reminded her ten times this morning about it. Still she forgets. Can you believe it? Like I told you, Jay, get children but not a wife.”

“Why didn’t you just call me on your cell phone?”

“Huh?”

Jay noticed Oliver tapping his thigh madly. He did the same thing when it got hectic on the arbitrage desk. “Your cell phone is in the glove compartment.” Jay pointed toward the Healey. “You could have just called to tell me to pick up the sunscreen. Why did you drive all the way out here?”

“How did you know my cell phone was in the glove compartment?” Oliver asked angrily. “Just because Barbara gives you the keys to my car doesn’t give you the right to go through it.”

“The phone rang,” Jay answered calmly. “I thought it was you, so I picked up.”

“Oh. Who was it?” Oliver asked tentatively.

Jay shrugged. “I don’t know. The guy said something about not using information he gave you yesterday. I think he said his name was Tony. He hung up when he figured out it wasn’t you at the other end of the line. It was strange.”

“Oh, yeah.” Oliver waved a hand as though batting a bug. “I met Tony in the Oak Room after work yesterday. He’s a real-estate agent. I’m thinking about buying an apartment in Manhattan, and he’s representing me. It’s a beautiful place right on the East River, but I’m having a tough time getting into the building. The president of the co-op board doesn’t like investment bankers, especially ones from the Bronx. Anyway, Tony dug up some dirt on the guy, and we were going to use it against him. You know, a little friendly influence so he can see things my way. I realize all that doesn’t sound very good, but sometimes people in those buildings can be pretty snobbish. Sometimes they need a push.” A pained expression cut across his face. “I guess Tony got cold feet.”

“I guess.”

Jay and Oliver stared at each other for a few moments. Finally Oliver pulled out his wallet and stuffed a hundred-dollar bill into Jay’s palm. “Get me the gin and the sunscreen, will you, pal?”

“Sure.”

“And give me the keys to my baby.”

“Huh?”

“The keys to the Healey.” Oliver gestured at the car, then held out the keys to the Suburban. “Here.”

Jay pulled out the keys to the Healey and they made the exchange.

“Thanks.” Oliver hurried to the driver’s side of the Healey and lowered himself in behind the steering wheel. “I love driving this thing,” he shouted. “See you at home.”

Jay watched Oliver back the Healey out of the parking spot, then peel from the lot. He glanced down at the hundred-dollar bill in his palm, then back at the sports car racing away.

Twenty minutes later Jay eased the Suburban to a stop alongside the Healey, grabbed the bag with the gin and sunscreen off the passenger seat, and hopped out. He hesitated, tempted to check the Healey’s glove compartment. He eyed the side door of the house, then glanced back at the car. The top was still down and it would be easy to check. He reached for the compartment’s knob.

“It’s a beautiful car, isn’t it?”

Jay whipped around, almost dropping the bag.

“I’m sorry if I startled you.”

“N-No, not at all,” Jay stammered. Sally Lane stood before him wearing a plain black golf shirt and a pair of Nantucket-red shorts that fell almost to her tanned knees. Her long blond hair and aqua eyes shone in the morning sun. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“Oliver asked me yesterday at lunch,” Sally explained. “He thought it would be a good chance for us to get to know each other. You know, outside the office.” She clasped her hands at the small of her back. “He wants us to work closely together. He said I could learn a lot from you.”

“Uh-huh.” Jay hadn’t seen much of Sally the day before. She’d spent most of her first day with Oliver, meeting other people at the firm, as Jay had during his first day at McCarthy & Lloyd. “I’m glad you could come.”

“I really love this car.” Sally’s arm brushed against Jay as she moved past him. “My father had a Healey when I was young. Only his was red.” She stopped at the rear of the car and turned to face Jay. “We had to get rid of ours because the salt air caused it to rust so badly.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“Gloucester, Massachusetts.” She pushed her long hair behind her ears. “It’s north of Boston, on the ocean.”

“I know.” As she had the day before, she was wearing very little makeup. Jay found her natural look extremely appealing. “Gorton’s of Gloucester and all that.”

“That’s what everyone says. It’s so embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“It’s like I ought to walk around all the time in a rain slicker and a floppy yellow hat carrying a box of frozen fish sticks.” Sally pretended to model a box by cupping her hands, turning to the side and giving Jay a come-hither look. “What do you think?”

“Perfect. If the arbitrage desk doesn’t work out, you’ll always have a job selling seafood.” He instinctively liked Sally even though Bullock had spent the better part of the afternoon the previous day convincing him that she was direct competition—that Sally also had a million-dollar guarantee, and that Oliver was going to pit Sally and Jay against each other, then fire the one who didn’t measure up by December so he only had to pay one bonus. It all sounded too much like Oliver for Jay to ignore. And Sally had a pedigree—Yale undergraduate and Harvard Business School plus two years at an elite financial consulting firm in Los Angeles. The kind of pedigree Bill McCarthy had referred to the evening Jay had been hired. A pedigree Jay didn’t have.

“I guess I shouldn’t poke too much fun at the fishing industry,” Sally said. “That’s how my family got its start in this country.”

“Really?”

“Yes. We came here back in the 1870s from Europe and settled out there in Gloucester. My great-great-grandfather was on the ocean almost every day, according to the stories I was told. It all started with one small boat, and pretty soon he had a fleet.”

“Does your family still live there?”

Sally shook her head. “No my mother and father moved away.” She lowered her head. “They were living in Florida, but they died in a plane crash about a year ago.”

“I’m sorry.” Jay heard a door open and glanced over his shoulder. Oliver was lugging the huge picnic basket toward the cars with Barbara tagging along behind.

“You two ready to go?” Oliver called.

Sally brushed past Jay, their arms touching again, and jogged across the lawn, taking one of the basket’s handles and helping Oliver carry it to the Suburban.

Jay watched them carefully, searching for any sign that Oliver had more than a professional interest in Sally.

“Open the door, pal,” Oliver called as he and Sally neared the Suburban.

Jay opened the back of the truck, placed the bag with the gin and sunscreen inside, then helped Oliver and Sally lift the basket in.

When the truck was packed, Oliver turned to Jay and handed him the keys to the Healey. “Here, you and Sally take the fun car. Barb and I will take the boring one.”

“I thought you didn’t like other people driving your baby,” Jay teased.

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“You’re right. But this is a special occasion. Go ahead and take it.”

Jay and Sally needed no urging. They hopped into the sports car and followed Oliver and Barbara down the driveway.

“Do me a favor,” Jay yelled above the wind as they turned onto the country lane. He had intentionally lagged behind the Suburban. “Make sure Oliver put the registration and insurance certificate in the glove compartment. I’d hate to get pulled over and not have them.”

Sally opened the small door and withdrew the black folder. After a few moments she located the registration and insurance information inside it and held up the documents for Jay to see.

He nodded. When she had opened the glove compartment, he’d noticed that the computer disk and the envelope were gone.

CHAPTER 5

“On the count of three, say ‘money’!” Oliver aimed a Polaroid camera at Jay and Sally, who were leaning together in the sailboat’s cockpit, and snapped the picture. “Nice smile, Jay,” Oliver remarked sarcastically, handing the developing photograph to Barbara.

“Now you get in there, Oliver,” Barbara suggested, shielding her eyes against the late-afternoon sunshine reflecting brightly off the blue water. “I’ll take one of all three of you.”

“All right,” Oliver agreed, picking up his half-full gin and tonic and forcing himself between Jay and Sally.

Barbara snapped the picture, then put the camera down beside her.

“Jesus, Barbara!” Oliver shouted. “It’s wet there.” He scooped up the camera and pictures and searched for a dry place to put them. An afternoon breeze had kicked up on Long Island Sound, and the cockpit had been soaked by salty spray.

“Here.” Jay handed Oliver a backpack he had brought on board.

“Thanks.” Oliver quickly stowed the camera and two photographs inside, then moved to the helm of the fifty-foot craft christened
Authority
. It was a magnificent sailboat. Its white hull and cabin were trimmed with royal blue, and its huge mainsail towered over them as they ran along a port tack. “All right, both of you overboard,” he ordered to Jay and Sally, holding his glass aloft like a torch. “Into the water, I said.”

“Here?” Sally asked dubiously. The boat was rolling several degrees to the left as it sliced through the choppy waters.

“Right here!” Oliver bellowed, slurring his words slightly. “I’m the captain, and on the
Authority
what I say goes.”

“Don’t make them go in if they don’t want to,” Barbara protested, clinging to Oliver as the boat rolled further to port. The waves had become larger in the last few minutes.

Jay slipped his T-shirt over his head, dropped it on the deck, and nudged Sally. “Come on.” She looked perfect in her one-piece black bathing suit. “It isn’t as if Oliver’s going to leave us out here,” he whispered. “Even he wouldn’t do that.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“It’ll be all right.”

She glanced anxiously to the north. Connecticut was still visible, but it was a long way off, almost obscured by the haze of the hot July afternoon. “I don’t know about this,” she said tentatively.

“Come on, Jay West!” Oliver yelled. “Are you afraid of a little water? I can understand Sally’s being scared. After all, she’s a girl.”

“Stop it, Oliver.” Barbara slapped Oliver’s wrist playfully. “Don’t be so demanding. And chauvinistic.” She grabbed him, spilling most of his drink, and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.

“Thanks, hon,” he answered automatically, not taking his eyes off Sally. “Last chance, West,” Oliver shouted. “If you don’t go in, I’ll know you’re a pussy.”

Jay grinned at Sally. “Kind of a juvenile ultimatum, but I guess I don’t have any choice. After all, he’s the boss.”

“I guess,” she agreed halfheartedly.

Jay moved to the safety ropes encircling the cockpit, stepped over them, and dove in. The water—a bathwater-like seventy-five degrees—still felt refreshing. It was almost four o’clock—they’d been out on the Sound since eleven—and he was ready for a swim. He burst through the surface, wiped water from his eyes, and quickly spotted the boat moving away over the rolling waves. He searched the deck for Sally, but she was nowhere in sight.

“Hey!”

Jay whipped around. She was behind him treading water. “So you did it,” he said, nodding approvingly. “I didn’t think you would.”

“I couldn’t let the other vice president on the arbitrage desk show me up. Oliver would never have let me live that down.” She turned her head to the side and smiled. “You never know what Oliver will consider important at the end of the year. I want my bonus as badly as you do.”

“I’m sure.” Jay chuckled softly. Oliver was a master manipulator.

“It sure gets lonely out here in a hurry when you’re in the water,” Sally observed. The coastline was no longer visible.

Jay gazed at her delicate face bobbing above the waves. “Do I detect a little anxiety?”

“A little,” she admitted.

“Oliver’ll be back,” Jay assured her. He wasn’t as certain as he sounded, but the coast was only a few miles away. It would be an arduous swim, but he had no doubt they could make it if they had to.

“Are there sharks out here?” Sally asked apprehensively.

“Sure. Tiger sharks, great whites—”

“All I wanted was a simple yes or no, Mr. Marine Biologist.” She moved closer to Jay, searching the water for the boat. “Why do you think he made us do this?”

“Power,” Jay answered automatically. “The same reason his sailboat is named
Authority
.” He rolled onto his back and floated, arms and legs outstretched. “Oliver is one of those people who constantly needs to reassure himself that he’s in command.”

“I guess you’re right. Oh!” she shrieked.

“What is it?”

“I felt something slimy go by my leg.” Her eyes were wide as she plowed through the water toward him. “Jesus, there it is again.” She threw her arms around Jay’s neck instinctively and pressed herself against him.

“It’s all right. You’re just imagining things.” Jay glanced at her gold bracelet glittering in the sun. He hoped she was just imagining things. If she felt whatever it was again, that bracelet was going to the bottom of the Sound, no matter how much it cost. He knew that sharks and other predatory fish were attracted to shiny objects.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, backing away slightly but still close enough that their fingers touched occasionally as they were treading water.

“Don’t worry.” Her arms had felt wonderful. He kept reminding himself that she was the competition, that he ought to keep his distance from her, but that was becoming more difficult by the minute. Jay had already noticed her watching him that day on the boat, as she had caught him watching her.

“Here they come,” Sally said, pointing across the water at the
Authority
. “Thank God.”

Jay spotted the impressive, white-hulled craft cruising toward them and was vaguely disappointed. He’d wanted this to go on a little longer.

As the
Authority
passed, Oliver tossed them a safety line. Then he slackened the sail and, after Jay and Sally had pulled themselves to the boat, dropped a rope ladder over the side so they could climb aboard.

“That felt great, didn’t it?” Oliver was beaming. “Just what you both needed.”

Sally grabbed a large towel and wrapped it around her slim frame. “Yeah, great, except for the shark that brushed against my leg.”

“Oh, no.” Barbara brought both hands to her mouth.

Oliver moved back to the helm and tightened the main sail. “Probably nothing but a damn bluefish.”

Jay gazed at Oliver and Barbara, now that they were side by side again. They just didn’t look right together.

“What are you staring at?” Oliver asked belligerently. He’d finished off another gin and tonic since ordering them into the water.

“Nothing,” Jay answered.

Oliver glanced skyward, then back at Jay. “Want a better view?”

“What do you mean?”

Oliver pointed at the top of the mast, seventy feet off the water. “I’ll be more than happy to crank you up there in the bosun’s chair if you want to take a man’s look around.”

Jay sucked the insides of his cheeks. It was a long way to the top, and the boat was pitching and rolling in the choppy sea.

“Unless you’re scared of heights,” Oliver added loudly so that Sally and Barbara could hear.

“I’m not crazy about heights,” Jay admitted. “But what the hell.” He stared back at Oliver defiantly. “I’ll go for it.”

Oliver nodded slowly. He hadn’t expected Jay to accept the challenge so readily. “Good.”

Moments later Oliver had attached the bosun’s chair— a plank of wood a foot and a half long and ten inches wide—to the starboard jib halyard with a canvas strap that looped beneath the seat and came together at the end of the halyard. Jay slipped onto the seat and grabbed the canvas straps knotted at his chest.

“Why don’t you give him the harness seat?” Barbara called from the cockpit.

“What’s the harness seat?” Jay asked, glancing up at Oliver, who was making certain the canvas straps were fastened securely to the end of the halyard.

“It’s a more modern version of what you’re sitting in. There’s no chance of falling out of it.” Oliver patted Jay on the shoulder. “Unfortunately, it’s back at the yacht club.”

“It doesn’t do much good there,” Jay yelled, grabbing the straps as Oliver began to crank the winch. Within moments he was halfway up the mast, almost forty feet in the air.

“That’s high enough, honey,” Barbara called.

“Be quiet,” Oliver muttered, continuing to crank. Finally he stopped. Jay was only a few feet from the top of the mast. “How you doing, pal?” Oliver shouted. “Nice enough view for you up there?”

“Beautiful!” Jay yelled back. “I can see all the way to New York City.” He grinned down at Sally, who was squinting against the sun. “You ought to try this, Sally. It’s not so bad.”

“No way,” she called, turning to Barbara. “He’s crazy.”

“Definitely,” Barbara agreed. “Certifiably insane if you ask me. Or just fearless.”

“We’ll see how fearless,” Oliver cracked, cranking the mainsail tighter and changing course so that the
Authority
caught as much wind as possible.

As a large swell broadsided them, the craft heeled over precariously. Jay clung to the straps, feeling his heart rising in his throat.

“What a ride!” Oliver yelled, clutching the wheel tightly. The afternoon breeze gusted and the
Authority
picked up speed. “This is great. He’ll do anything I tell him to do. I love it.”

“Bring him down,” Barbara screamed.

“He hasn’t asked to come down yet,” Oliver protested. The boat heeled again, further this time, to almost thirty degrees. “He’s fine.”

“Oliver!” Barbara yelled.

“You had enough, Jay West?” Oliver laughed, pleased with himself. “Ready for me to save you?”

“Don’t bother!” Jay yelled back. As the
Authority
leaned far to starboard once more, he let go of the straps, put his hands above his head, moved forward on the wooden seat, and slipped from the bosun’s chair.

“Look out!” Sally screamed, pointing up.

“Jesus Christ!” Oliver let go of the wheel and scrambled forward, certain Jay was going to smash into the deck.

But he didn’t. He plunged just past it and splashed into the water, bobbing quickly to the surface and waving to signal that he was fine as the sailboat slid past.

Minutes later Jay climbed the rope ladder to the deck and smiled at the other three, water dripping from his body. “That was great.” He brushed his soaking hair straight back and gestured at Oliver. “Now it’s my turn to crank your ass up the mast on that little wooden seat.”

For several moments Oliver glared at Jay. He could hear Barbara giggling over his shoulder. She knew what his answer would be. Finally Oliver broke into a grin. “Not on your life, Jay.”