Not here? He had to be here!
"Ohmigod!" she cried, lurching past Luc. "Look what they did to his computer! It wasn't like this last night! Jesus God, where is he? What happened here?"
That was what Luc wanted to know. Gleason was supposed to die here, not somewhere else. Or—his heart seized for an instant as a thought struck with the weight of a sledge—had Prather's men missed him?
Luc guided Nadia to a chair and helped her as she sagged into it. "It looks like just a robbery and maybe some vandalism."
"I don't see his laptop," she said, looking around. "And his living room rug is gone. Does that make any sense?"
It did if Prather's men needed a way to remove Gleason's body. But they were not supposed to remove it.
"No, it doesn't," he told her. "But you didn't see any blood, did you?"
He wanted her to say, Yes, oceans of it, but she shook her head.
He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "There. He's probably away for the weekend with—"
"He's not!" she said. Tears were sliding down her cheeks. "He would have told me!"
"Come now," Luc said. "Surely he has other friends. He probably—"
"We're engaged, damn it!"
Luc felt his knees go soft. Now he too needed to sit. "Engaged? But… but I thought…"
"Doug wanted to keep it secret. He had some idea that management might not approve of a close relationship between a sales rep and a researcher."
Gleason had been right, of course. Luc tried to frame a reply, but the only words that formed in his reeling brain were, What have we done? What have we done ... ?
With her fiance missing she'll be utterly useless in the lab—and not just for a couple of days.
That's it, then, he thought. Over. Done. Fin.
"I've got to call the police!"
Before Luc could stop her, she had the phone receiver to her ear—but only for an instant. She pulled it away and looked at it. "That's right. I forgot. Out of service."
She slammed it down and hurried from the room. Luc struggled to think of some way to stop her, some words that would convince her to hold off calling the police, but his mind was a blank. What could he say? Gleason was missing and his apartment showed unmistakable signs of foul play.
Nadia and the police… a potentially lethal combination. To determine who had broken in, she would have to ask why ... and why they had stolen one computer and smashed another. Luc had to assume that Gleason had told her about his invasion of the GEM computer system. Would she make a connection? Nadia was too bright not to. And she would tell the police. And if she had any suspicions that Loki was a street drug, Luc sensed she would bring up those as well. And then the New York City Police and the DEA and the FBI would be dissecting GEM, and issuing warrants, and ending life as he knew it.
When Nadia returned seconds later, pulling a cell phone from her bag, he was tempted to snatch it away—but then what? Strangle her? He thought of putting his hands around her throat and squeezing… watching her face mottle into blue.
No, he couldn't. And besides, a third missing GEM employee would guarantee an investigation. Nadia was as much a danger to him alive as dead.
His gut crawled as he watched her punch in 9-1-1. She paced back and forth as she waited for an answer, then wandered out of the room as she began talking to the operator or dispatcher or whoever handled those calls.
This tore it then. It was all over. He'd have to leave the country immediately. But what about his wine? He needed another two days to pack up the rest and ship it out—just one day if he worked all night…
But what was the use? In France he could hide from Dragovic but not from the U.S. and French governments. He would be found, extradited, and Dragovic's contacts in prison would see to it that he never reached a courtroom.
There had to be a way to stop her. But how?
His nervous, restless, roving gaze came to rest on Nadia's shoulder bag and a plan crystallized. It was beautiful, perfect.
Quickly Luc reached into the bag and rummaged around. He felt a sweat break at the thought of Nadia wandering back and finding him up to his elbows in her personal belongings. He heard a jangle, reached for it, came up with her key ring, and shoved it into his jacket pocket a second before Nadia stepped back into the room.
"They're sending someone over."
She dropped the phone into her bag and stood there. For a moment she seemed lost; then her features twisted. She covered her face with her hands and began to sob.
"Where is he? Something's happened to him. I just know something terrible's happened!"
Moved by her anguish, Luc rose and put an arm around her shoulders. For a moment he regretted everything, then reminded himself that if Gleason had minded his own damn business, if he'd just kept his nose out of places it did not belong, Luc wouldn't be comforting this young woman while he planned her ruin.
"It'll be all right, Nadia. I know it will be all right."
And he meant that. Every word of it.
But for him, not her.
3
"This is too much!" Sal was saying. "Just too freakin' much!"
Jack had to smile as he watched the destruction of last night's party play out on the thirteen-inch screen. It was too much.
Holiday quiet outside the office. Except for the guard dogs padding around behind the fences, he and Sal had the junkyard to themselves.
"Now here comes the best part," Sal said, pointing at the screen. "I musta watched this a hundred times."
Jack watched Dragovic shove a pretty young woman out from under a table, then watched that table collapse under the impact of a tottering overweight party guest. Jack laughed. Beautiful.
Sal was almost falling out of his seat. "Can you imagine when that hits the airwaves? "This guy ain't gonna be able to show his face in Burger King, let alone Studio 54!"
Jack started to tell him that Studio 54 was passe now but let it go. He knew what Sal meant, and he was right on the money.
"A fate worse than death," Jack said.
Sal hit the stop button and turned to Jack. "I don't know about a fate worse than death. Not that all this ain't good an' all, but good as it is—"
"Yeah, I know… Somehow it's not enough."
Sal smiled. "Yeah. Am I a broken record or what. But it's just… not. If you know what I'm sayin'."
"I do. But this has only been phase one. These first two hits are what you might call 'baking the cake.' In phase two we ice it."
"And when's phase two?"
"Tonight. This whole gig ends at tonight's party."
Jack was glad of that. After tonight, no more hard guys hanging around outside Gia's. He hoped.
"Tonight? Ain't no party tonight—least not according to my contact."
"Yeah, there is. Got it straight from Dragovic. Special party tonight, but your caterer friend won't be hired for this one."
"Well, we did tires and crankcase gunk," Sal said. "What next?"
"Something very special. You just make sure you and your camera are on that dune tonight. Be ready to shoot as soon as it's good and dark. This one will be the best yet."
"Yeah?" Sal wiggled his eyebrows. "Whatcha plannin'?"
"I'm planning to make a phone call."
"That's it? A call? To who?"
Jack wagged his finger at Sal. "If you knew that, you wouldn't need to pay me, would you. Just make sure you don't miss this party. And have the rest of my money ready. After tonight I don't think you'll be saying, 'it ain't enough.'"