Vengeance (12 page)

She grinned, dimples flashing at the corner of her mouth. "You're more wicked than your namesake, Hades. But I have the feeling that I'll be busy tonight. I'm sorry. I'll need to take a rain check on that, even though I'd love to see your train set."

Damn. I thought for sure...Her cautiousness was starting to be annoying. Oh well. Perhaps I could talk her into it later. "Well then, give me the keys and I'll call the service when I get back home." I gunned the car. "And fasten your seatbelt."

As soon as I saw Cara Delacroix, I knew I had a good fight on my hands. She was tall, slender and haughty with dark curly hair pulled up into a stylish, tousled mass atop her head, looking too heavy for her elegant neck. She wore tailored business clothes in rich brown tones that highlighted her large brown eyes. Her skirt was just short enough to show off her exquisite legs and just tight enough to accent her high, shapely ass. The tailored jacket hinted at her delicious breasts hidden behind the fabric.

She assessed me with a sweeping look when Lucinda and I arrived in the conference room on the third floor of the four-story Delacroix Lab building. "John mentioned you," she said in acknowledgement of Lucinda's introduction. She held out a hand. "Thank you for giving Lucinda a ride into town. I was worried she'd hurry and perhaps have an accident. Cinda isn't the best of drivers even when she isn't rushed."

Lucinda started to formulate a scathing reply. I took Cara Delacroix's extended hand. "I, however, am an exceptional driver. I'm pleased to meet you. Lucinda and I had such a nice chat about you, the company and the instructions her father left in his will at his death."

Cara's hand tightened in mine. Her brown eyes narrowed. She too could see the battle lines, clearly drawn. Cara Delacroix was exactly the kind of woman I had been attracted to in another life--the one I led in the 1970s, to be precise. She was a hard-edged businesswoman, inflexible, driven to succeed, beautiful and sexy.

I glanced at Lucinda and her casual clothes, flyaway hair and tiny stature. It was odd how my tastes had changed. I released Cara's hand and turned to Lucinda. "Lead the way, boss."

"Boss?" Cara's voice sounded choked.

"Yes, your sister hired me to advise her during the IPO process if indeed there is one. I've been involved with several successful corporate changeovers." I gestured to Lucinda to precede me into the conference room.

"I'm sorry, but this is a family matter."

Lucinda sighed. "I've given him a retainer, Cara. Now stop with the big sister act and let us in."

I hid a smile. She said it with just the right mix of annoyance and amusement. I was glad I accepted the dollar bill from Lucinda earlier in the car as the "retainer" and I belatedly admired her common sense.

Cara looked stunned. We took advantage of her surprise to enter the room. Because of our talk while riding into town, I knew who the players were, seated around the eight-person table. The mannish-looking young woman with dark red hair was Lucinda's niece, Kathryn, and the young man with black curly hair was Kathryn's brother, Jeff. They were plain and somewhat stocky, with fair skin and broad, unremarkable features. I glanced at the portrait on the wall. A man with the same features smiled down at us. David Delacroix, the company's founder, looked solid, respectable and boring, not at all like his daughters.

Lucinda and I took seats across the table from the younger people, John Fairchild across from us on our right. Cara Delacroix came in and positioned a stack of bound pages at the head of the table before sitting down. "This is Mr. Haidess," she snapped, shooting me a malevolent glance. "He's here to advise Lucinda."

Kathryn looked intrigued by this comment. Jeff glanced at Fairchild, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"The question of whether to go public with the company comes up with some regularity," Cara said with an annoyed look at Lucinda and John Fairchild. "As you know, we've been in talks with Paulson Cybernetics, discussing a way to automate some of our R&D work. Those talks have been productive, but I think if we had a more solid financial backing, we'd have more leverage in our talks with Paulson. I appreciate your concerns about going public, but--"

"We've been over this before, Cara." Fairchild fidgeted with a pen on the table in front of him, bouncing it off a notepad. His dark gray suit and shades-of-gray tie contrasted well with his dark blue shirt. His financial acumen might be questionable, but the man did know how to dress. "You know it's not the right time for us. If we go public we'll be asked to open most of our books, research as well as financial."

Cara held up a restraining hand. "I appreciate that, John. We all do. It's a dilemma." Cara Delacroix's gaze intersected mine. "Your advice probably won't be needed after all, Mr. Haidess. We're not here to consider an IPO. We're here to consider a partnership."

"Ah, partnerships. I have considerable experience with those, too." I swept my gaze around the room. Jeff Delacroix and John Fairchild appeared startled by the announcement. Interestingly enough, Kathryn Delacroix did not until she saw me watching her. Then she put on an appropriate wide-eyed look.

"Partnership?" Lucinda asked next to me. "What kind of partnership?"

I heard the wary suspicion in her voice. She obviously had an intuitive understanding of her sister's deviousness, something I'd underestimated. Cara Delacroix touched a button on the phone in front of her. "Why don't I let him make the presentation himself?"

The door opened and Robert Meyer walked in.

I swear -- the world stopped spinning for one dizzying instant. I had last seen him in 1943 in a publicity photo taken in Nazi Germany. At that time he was wearing a brownshirts' uniform, standing next to a group of scientists at a facility in Italy. He escaped me when I parachuted into Italy with British troops and we stormed the hospital. The dying and tortured patients had occupied our immediate attention, allowing Meyer and his cohorts an opportunity to escape.

He paused in the doorway then crossed the room to Cara Delacroix, smiling at her in such a proprietary way I knew they had been or still were lovers. Meyer was an athletic man, his body tight with a runner's leanness and tan. He appeared to be in his early forties with thick dark gold hair cut into an untidy style giving him a boyish, open appearance.

I was close, so close to the man I longed to kill. For one paralyzing instant I considered jumping up and strangling him. Then common sense prevailed. Like me, he couldn't be killed by so prosaic a method. I had no adequate weapon at hand to murder the son of a bitch.

Concern, fear and surprise washed over me. I glanced down to see Lucinda touching my hand where it was clenched on the tabletop. "Is something wrong?" she asked in a low voice. I heard the concern and fear in her voice.

Meyer turned. Our gazes met. Recognition flared in his hazel eyes then he hid it, turning his smile on Lucinda. "Hello, Lucinda." His voice held just enough warmth and contempt to be insulting.

She flinched. "Hello, Robert. What are you doing here?" Embarrassment and suspicion coursed through the tentative link she and I shared.

He turned to Cara Delacroix. "I was under the impression this was a private meeting."

"Mr. Haidess is a friend of Lucinda's," Cara said.

"A business acquaintance," I corrected. I didn't want to give Meyer any reason to believe Lucinda was of importance to me. It was meager protection but the best I could do for the moment.

Lucinda shifted position, removing her hand and straightening up. "Nico Haidess, this is Dr. Robert Masterson. He works in our research department."

I saw Lucinda's cavalier description of Meyer hit home. So did John Fairchild. He grinned and winked at Lucinda.

Meyer flushed. "I'm the lead researcher on a major project." He leaned toward me and extended his hand.

I looked at it for a long, deliberate moment then I reached out and shook. "So nice to meet the employees at Delacroix Labs."

Meyer looked like he'd swallowed something sour. Cara Delacroix hastily intervened. "Robert has a proposition he'd like to present to the board." Her gaze slid over me. "And to its advisors."

I nodded while my mind churned. Meyer always stayed in the background during the decades I tracked him, content to let others assume the spotlight. This was the first time since the 1880s that he'd stepped into a leadership position of any kind. Why was he willing to work in a small medical research company when he had probably amassed a fortune as large as mine, if not larger? Why subject himself to public scrutiny? What did he have to gain?

"It's very simple, really." Meyer took a seat across the table from Lucinda and me, between Kathryn and Cara Delacroix. "I'd like to invest in Delacroix Labs and become something slightly more than a mere employee." His scathing smile at Lucinda spoke volumes. "After all, my father helped found the company. I think it might be good if I had more than just an employee's interest in its future."

"Why?" she asked before he could continue.

"I beg your pardon?" He settled back in the faux leather chair, seemingly relaxed. He avoided my gaze, instead focusing on Lucinda, who stared back with impenetrable calm. Her tapping foot under the table gave lie to her façade.

"Why invest in the company, Robert? Aren't you satisfied with your working arrangements here? We've given you a lot of freedom to pursue your own projects and we've funded almost every research effort you've asked us to fund."

"Almost." His voice was brittle. "It has nothing to do with my projects. I happen to believe in Delacroix and its possibilities. I'd like to see our bioengineering ideas succeed and I think with adequate money backing our efforts we can. And, as I said, there's the matter of family history."

I didn't buy it for a minute and I could tell John Fairchild was skeptical too. "What type of arrangement are you considering?" he asked.

"It's very straightforward." Meyer crossed his ankle on one knee. The casual pose didn't fool me. "I'll buy half of each person's shares."

"Nonsense." Lucinda said it in a "you must be an idiot" tone of voice.

Meyer's eyes narrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Do you think I'd turn over fifty percent of my father's company to you?"

He smiled. "You wouldn't be doing that, Lucinda. You'd only be selling your 15%. It's up to the others to determine how much they would like to 'turn over,' as you phrase it."

My glance flickered around the table, adding up the figures in my head. Kathryn and Cara would do it. I could tell by the way they eyed Meyer. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps Kathryn too was sleeping with him. I tucked that idea away for later investigation. My gaze went to Jeff Delacroix. His eyes were darting from Cara, to Lucinda and back to Cara. He looked nervous. Fairchild too looked anxious and I wondered why. My investigations had turned up a few financial oddities in his accounts. Was that it?

"Before I can adequately advise my client I need to know the details of the arrangement you're suggesting," I said into the dense silence that descended on the table. "And of course I'd need to see a financial worksheet on your assets and liabilities."

Meyer finally faced me. This was the tenth time in the two hundred and seventeen years since he infected me with his virus that I was face to face with him. I saw the memories of those encounters reflected in his eyes. I'm certain he could see the same in mine. "Of course, Mr. Haidess. My life is an open book."

My hands trembled with the need to hit him. Instead I nodded. "Good."

"We've prepared a prospectus for each of you that details Robert's offer." Cara patted the binders on the table in front of her. "I hope you'll seriously consider Robert's proposal. It gives us an excellent chance to take Delacroix Labs to the next level."

Lucinda made a noise next to me, something like a repressed snort. "I'll read it thoroughly," I said, holding out a hand.

Cara handed me a binder then passed the others toward Kathryn, who distributed them to her brother and Fairchild. As Kathryn reached past Meyer to do so, she brushed him with her arm. I saw him press against her, acknowledging the contact. I nodded to myself. Suspicion confirmed.

Lucinda snatched the document from my hand. "He's insane if he thinks--"

"Thank you for attending," Cara said. "I'd like to meet again on Friday to discuss this, if possible."

"Friday?" Fairchild looked up from the document he was leafing through. "That's Good Friday. It's a half holiday here at the company."

Meyer's head swung toward me. I stared at him, my jaw clenched so tightly I thought I might crack it. Memories of that fateful Good Friday, decades ago, coursed through me. I saw the same memory in his eyes. "So it is," he said.

"Let's meet at noon on Friday," Cara said. "Just to discuss any questions you might have. We'll postpone an actual vote for another week. Does that give you adequate time to review the information, Mr. Haidess?"

Still staring at Meyer, I said, "Fine. Quite enough time." I turned my gaze to Cara. She flinched at what she saw in my face. I cleared my throat. "More than enough time."

"Good. Then we'll see you then." She swept out of the room, Meyer at her side. He glanced back once over his shoulder at me, his gaze curious and assessing.