Winner Takes All (33 page)

***

Dinner was really good. The food was delicious, of course, flavorful and perfectly prepared, but it was the easy conversation that made the experience so wonderful. Sometime in the middle of her second buttermilk biscuit, Ruth realized many of the pieces in Cole’s living room were by a company in Williamsburg she represented and for a half hour, she and Cole discussed furniture designers. Cassandra, whose daughter was in the Peace Corps in Mozambique, peppered Mark with questions about his reporting on refugees, while Loretta asked Eva about her upbringing in Ohio. Eva knew she was being felt out as a proper consort for her son, and she didn’t mind at all. If the Hammond matriarch wasn’t put off by a price-fixing scandal and an investigation by the Department of Justice, Eva doubted there was anything in her ordinary suburban childhood that would make her look askance.

“We need to know more about Ethan,” Cassandra announced as Cole collected the plates and deposited them in the kitchen sink. “Everything flows from him. We need intel to figure out his weaknesses so we can use them against him. Obviously, he picked you because your start dates coincided. What else can you tell us?”

“Hold on,” Eva said, who had been wondering what about her person had made her such a great stool pigeon. “How is that obvious? I started five years ago. Ethan’s been in the New York office for only two.”

Cassandra conceded this with a nod. “But you were promoted from assistant to junior associate the month he started. Young associate eager to rise through the ranks—it makes a good narrative.”

Mark agreed. “It works so well because it’s true. We just need to convince the Justice Department it has the wrong eager beaver. So tell us everything you know.”

Still processing the notion that it was nothing but lousy timing that had put a target on her back, Eva said, “That should take about five seconds. Ethan isn’t what you’d call a man of the people. He doesn’t interact with the staff, certainly not the junior members. The first time I’d ever spoken to him was when he called to invite me to dinner.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the official line,” Ruth said, “but what’s the word on the street. He’s the boss, right? Everyone gossips about the boss. You must know more.”

Nodding slowly, Eva conceded the truth of this statement and thought about what she’d heard. “He doesn’t like New York. He thinks it’s a provincial backwater. Wyndham’s main office is in London and he’d much rather be there, but his father doesn’t think he’s ready to take over the whole company,” she said slowly, recalling what his brother, Edward, had once mentioned over beers. “Ethan is impatient and would totally push Elliot out if he saw the opening. But this is unsubstantiated rumor. My source is his younger brother.”

“Sibling rivalry is one of the great forces of the universe,” Loretta observed, “like gravity and thermodynamics.”

“Ethan would like to make some sweeping changes at the firm, to get away from the stodgy traditionalism that his father is steeped in,” Eva explained. “I don’t necessarily see that as a weakness. Sons are always like that, aren’t they? Certainly ones who have never quite lived up to their father’s expectations.”

“How do you know he hasn’t?” Loretta asked.

Now Eva was in choppier waters and passing along true gossip—that was, information she’d actually overheard at the water cooler. “His thesis, for one. It quickly became apparent to Elliot that his son would never finish his thesis, so he insisted on hiring a scholar to help with the research. That backfired, apparently, because the rumor is the scholar didn’t just help; he did the whole thing. My colleague claims to have a friend who has a friend who knows the guy. The thesis was extremely well received by the dons at Oxford and hailed as brilliant. Ethan ate up the praise. It seemed to the scholar who wrote the paper as if Ethan had convinced himself he’d actually done the work. Which kind of makes sense.”

Cassandra cocked her head to the side. “How so?”

“Ethan likes taking credit for things and rarely gives other people their due. It’s like everyone at Wyndham’s is a cog in the make-Ethan-look-good machine. My supervisor Ben cc’s Elliot on everything he sends out—and we’re talking even the most mundane email updating the vacation schedule—because early on Ethan took credit for a few of his ideas. And this is Ben,” she said with a grim smile, “who doesn’t play well with others and who would take credit for other people’s ideas if he could get away with it. It’s kind of funny watching him watch his back.”

“What are some of these ideas?” Mark asked.

Eva rattled off a few as her audience listened with increasing interest. When she was done, Cole smiled. “So he likes to take credit for things.”

Ruth nodded. “This has potential.”

Although she saw neither potential nor reason to smile, Eva trusted their assessment.

“Tell us more,” demanded Loretta.

Eva searched her mind for more salacious gossip but came up empty. The well was dry.

Loretta didn’t accept that and prompted her for more. “Tell us more about his brother. He’s younger, of course, but how much younger?”

Eva had to think about that. “Three years, maybe four.”

“You said the staff liked him?”

“Of course we did. He took us out for drinks every other Thursday,” she answered, wondering how this could be useful. “He was very social but also a hard worker. We would have all been pleased to have him as the boss.”

Loretta asked several more detailed questions about Edward, but nothing potential-ridden or smile-causing was uncovered. At a quarter to ten, Eva yawned. As far as her regular routine went, it was still early but she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. Even the last round of coffee and cookies hadn’t affected her.

Seeing her droopy eyelids, Cole decided to call it a night. “We’ll continue this tomorrow.”

“No,” said Eva emphatically. “You all go to work tomorrow. I don’t want your lives to stop just because mine got derailed.”

It was obvious that everyone wanted to argue, but Loretta hushed them all with a look. She could see the exhaustion in her eyes. “All right, dear, if that’s the way you want it,” she said, giving Eva a motherly hug. Eva, her eyes welling unexpectedly, returned the gesture with all her strength. It felt good to be surrounded by people who cared for her.

She released Eva and turned to her son. “You take care of her,” she said softly as she pressed her lips against her cheek. “She seems so fragile.”

“I know, but she isn’t,” he assured her. “She’s strong. She’ll get through this.”

The rest of the good-byes were said quickly, and the war council left, arguing over who would pay for the taxi as they went down the stairs to the street.

Eva watched them leave and sighed. It was hard to be sad with such an exuberant group around her, and yet it was hard to be happy with this sharp sword hanging above her. Cole put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s going to be all right,” he said, leading Eva into the bedroom and undressing her. She was about to fall asleep on her feet.

“It’s going to be a fight,” she murmured as he laid her down on the soft cotton sheets. “It’s going to be a long and ugly fight, but we’re not going to give in. We’ll fight to the last man.”

He quickly peeled off his clothes and climbed into bed with her, pulling her into his arms and marveling at how wonderful she felt. How had he ever slept without her? “Don’t worry, I have a plan,” he said softly.

Her eyes closed, she smiled. He sounded so confident. “You do?”

“It still need fleshing out, but I think it might work. It’s a pretty good plan.”

Eva didn’t doubt it, but it was still hard to be optimistic. “Mmm. Still, I hope you have a Plan B on tap. I’d hate for you to have to visit me every Sunday at Sing Sing.” She made light of it, but she knew it was no joking matter. If she did go to prison, she wouldn’t expect him to visit her. In fact, she would insist that he did not. If she really was sent up the river, she would break it off with him again and make it stick. Cole Reed Hammond was not going to have a girlfriend in prison stripes. She wouldn’t stand for that. He really did deserve better than her.

Cole assured her that Plan B was already in place and ready to be executed with a word from her. Eva, thinking he was teasing, complimented him on his efficiency as she dropped off into a deep peaceful sleep with a smile on her face.

But Cole wasn’t kidding. If Plan A didn’t work—and he would begin implementing it first thing tomorrow with a call to the Justice Department; he might have to call in a few favors but that didn’t matter—then they would fall back on his second plan. He already had a team of lawyers looking into anti-trust laws and knew that price-fixing was considered a civil, not criminal, offense in England. Extradition under that circumstance would be unlikely. He had the corporate jet on standby should he need to whisk Eva away.

He wouldn’t tell her about Plan B, of course, unless he absolutely had to. He didn’t doubt that she would try once again to kick him out of her life. There was no way that she would graciously accept such a sacrifice on his part. But it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. Hammond Communications was a multinational company, and he already kept a flat in London. Under ordinary circumstances he spent a good part of the year there anyway and would be quite happy to relocate indefinitely. The only important thing was keeping Eva out of jail. He would do whatever he had to to accomplish that, even if it meant breaking a few laws. He never thought he’d meet a woman who made him feel like this and refused to let anyone, not even the United States government, take her away.

Feeling tense, Cole closed his eyes and tried to relax. It wasn’t as if U.S. marshals were stationed outside his apartment waiting to carry her off to prison. There was still such a thing as due process and there were several steps remaining before she was remanded into custody. And it might not be necessary anyway. Plan A could very well go off without a hitch.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Cole watched the
man from the Justice Department, Carlin Jeffers, attach the microphone to Eva’s necklace with a growing sense of alarm. He knew Eva would be safe—he, Jeffers and four other agents would be in a van filled with recording devices less than a hundred feet from the building, listening the entire time—but he still felt apprehensive about sending Eva in alone. He didn’t doubt that she could handle Ethan if everything went according to plan but what if it didn’t? What if Ethan suspected something was up and turned violent? They already knew he was sly and ruthless. Cole wondered what else he was capable of.

“That should do it,” said Jeffers as he examined his handiwork. The necklace looked like any other aquamarine-and-pearl bauble, not at all like a sophisticated piece of surveillance equipment. “Let’s do a dry run and see how it works.”

“All right,” Eva said, surprised by the calm she was feeling. She’d thought a sting operation would give her the jitters, but it didn’t. She was ready to beard the lion in his den and could barely stand the wait. “Thank you.”

Jeffers grunted. He wasn’t happy about this and had made no attempt to hide it. As far as he was concerned, the Justice Department had gotten its woman and he didn’t like his superiors telling him different. He was happy enough to explore other avenues—Ethan Wyndham wouldn’t have been the first offender who tried to lead him astray—but he didn’t like getting the order from on high. Cole Reed Hammond had clout in this city, which he wasn’t afraid to use to push around someone like Jeffers, and Jeffers resented it.

However, Eva knew from listening to Cole’s end of several frustrating conversations that Jeffers hadn’t been willing to consider Cole’s other avenues. Cole knew enough about the ego of small-time bureaucrats not to go over anyone’s head. Or at least not to start there. When Jeffers had been unreceptive to reason, Cole was forced to call a social contact who was several pay grades above Jeffers. Andrea Lester, assistant attorney general for administration, had listened to their plight and considered their request to be reasonable. She then summoned Jeffers and told him to follow through.

And he was but with a grimace. Eva didn’t mind. She didn’t care why he hooked up the microphone and listened in the van as long as he did.

Jeffers turned to her now with his ready scowl and asked her to walk to the corner. “Get a good distance away and then strike up a conversation with someone. Don’t speak directly into the microphone. We want to make sure it’s picking up sounds at conversational norms.”

Eva wasn’t sure what a conversational norm was, but she walked to the corner and asked a businessman in a gray suit for directions. She was eager to find out if the device would pick up the sound of Ethan admitting he’d set her up.

While Jeffers was playing with knobs and dials, Cole pulled her to the side. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, his nerves jumping like excited children. “We can figure something else out.”

Laughing, Eva looked to the van. “Don’t tell Jeffers that. After all the trouble he’s gone through, I better do this,” she said, momentarily forgetting that the man in question could hear every word they uttered loud and clear.

Cole nodded. “You’ll stick to the script, right?”

They had been up since six that morning running through lines and creating possible scenarios. He’d asked: What do you say if he says this? She’d answered: I say this. It went on for several hours, and Cole only stopped when Jeffers showed up at their door with the van. She knew Cole wasn’t completely satisfied with the exercise—he still had several permutations to run through yet—but he contented himself with the knowledge that Eva wasn’t stupid. She had an agile brain and could think quickly on her feet.

Seeing the look on his face, she put her hand on his shoulder. “Nothing’s going to happen. Really. We’ll just have a short conversation, and then I’ll leave. It’ll take ten minutes. I’ll be down here demanding that you take me to lunch before you know it.”

Cole nodded abruptly, as if he believed this too, and pulled her into his arms, effectively smothering the microphone. “I love you,” he said quietly.