Dupree did an about face and scurried to her car before Lentz and Hansen had a chance to see her. She grudgingly paid the attendant ten dollars for the five minutes she’d parked there. Ready to drive off, she thought it might be a good idea to hang around and wait for them to leave. After all, the parking lot still owed her fifty-five minutes. Who knows? Maybe they’d do something to spark her curiosity. Not wanting to leave T.J. wondering why she hadn’t yet made it to the precinct, Dupree called him on his cell.
“Got everything under control there, partner?” Dupree said. She thought about telling him about the letter but decided to wait until they were face to face.
“Did you get caught in traffic or meet an old boyfriend?” T.J. said.
“Neither. I stopped at Starbucks for a latté and stumbled upon something interesting.”
“Do tell.”
She told him about seeing Lentz and Hansen.
“Ain’t that a kick in the pants,” T.J. said.
“I’m going to stick around until they leave. I want to see if they part company with a peck on the cheek or they lock lips. You mind waiting for me?”
“Got plenty to keep me busy,” T.J. said. “I’ll keep Tesler on ice until you get here.”
“Great. Talk to you soon.”
Dupree eased back and rested her head against the headrest. When she felt her eyes drooping, she decided to sit upright to help her stay alert.
After sitting in her car for nearly thirty minutes, getting constant dirty looks from the parking attendant, Dupree spotted Lentz and Hansen strolling out the front door of Starbucks, holding hands. She scooched down in the driver’s seat and watched them walk to the far side of the same lot where she had parked. The lovebirds approached a white car. A giant-size SUV obstructed Dupree’s view, so she could not see what type of vehicle they were driving. She could just barely see the top of Lentz’s head disappear and assumed he’d gotten into the car.
Dupree waited patiently for them to back out so she could get a better look at the car. And them. But one minute led to two and after five minutes, she could only assume that they were making out or engaged in a deep conversation. What else could they be doing? Finally, she saw the white car slowly inching its way out of the spot. Once backed out, Dupree could see that Lentz was the driver and Hansen was sitting in the passenger seat. Dupree checked out the back of the car, shocked to see that Lentz was driving an Audi A8. And it looked showroom new. Dupree didn’t know a lot about cars, but she suspected that this particular model came with a hefty price tag.
Lentz headed for the exit. Dupree removed the digital recorder from her purse, turned it on, and recited the license plate number. With intentions of following them, she eased her car forward, but just before she had a chance to turn towards the exit, a four-door F-150 crew cab sitting next to her backed out of his spot, preventing Dupree from driving towards the exit. He moved the big truck so slowly and cautiously it seemed as if he was driving a ten-wheel dump truck. By the time the man maneuvered the big truck and pointed it where he wanted to go, Lentz and Hansen were gone.
Damn!
As Dupree pulled out of the driveway and merged into traffic, the Audi nowhere in sight, she thought about the hard luck story Lentz had shared with T.J. and her.
Not bad for a schmuck working two jobs, living in a crappy apartment in Queens, and barely making ends meet.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
David Taylor, CEO of Ritter-Stone Pharmaceuticals, gathered with his colleagues behind closed doors in Taylor’s expansive den. He’d always felt that calling his thirty foot by forty foot retreat a den, seemed overtly understated. The room was rich with custom designed furniture, solid cherry covered walls, hand-carved crown moldings, and it was exquisitely decorated. It was a haven where a busy executive could sit in front of a crackling fire on a cool evening with the latest edition of Forbes magazine, pour himself a snifter of Louis XIII cognac, light up a Montecristo cigar, and unwind from the demands of his stressful career. This fourteen thousand square foot mansion was one of six homes he owned around the world. But of all his homes, even the villa in Tuscany, this was his favorite; a tranquil, remote hideaway.
“How was your flight, Ed?” Taylor asked Mason.
“No complaints. How could anyone take issue with flying first class? Of course, I wasn’t thrilled with flying a helicopter from San Juan here. But it sure beat one of those puddle jumpers. I appreciate the accommodation.”
“That’s the one drawback with Anguilla. Unless you come to the island by boat, you can only fly directly from Puerto Rico in a turbo-prop plane. Not the most comfortable way to travel.”
“Anguilla is a beautiful island,” Mason said. “From the air, it looks like a Thomas Kinkade painting.”
“Indeed,” Taylor said.
He pointed to the other two men seated at the long table. “That’s Warren Price, CEO of Global Pharmaceuticals, and next to him is Clarence Sadowski, CEO of Fowler-Paine.”
“It’s my pleasure to meet you gentlemen,” Mason said.
“First of all,” Taylor said, “let me extend our deepest sympathy for the tragic death of Dr. Crawford. I was stunned when I heard of her murder.”
“She was a real pioneer,” Sadowski said. “Light years ahead of anyone else in medical research.”
“Her death,” Price said, “must have placed your entire operation in a tailspin.”
“You have no idea,” Mason said. “Forgive the vulgarity, but Horizon went from a well-oiled machine to a cluster-fuck.”
“Well, hopefully,” Taylor said, his eyes locked on Mason, “we can come to terms and help put Horizon back on track.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Mason said.
The room was quiet for a few moments.
“With all due respect,” Mason said, “and no reflection on anyone here, I feel pigeonholed, like I no longer have the option to select a partner based on due diligence and objective evaluation. I’m not suggesting that you gentlemen and your respective companies would not be extraordinary partners. Only that I’m really backed in the corner and the clock is ticking.”
“We appreciate your situation,” Taylor said. “But we also have a major concern. If we agree to a partnership, the last thing we want is competition. How can we be sure that whoever stole Dr. Crawford’s computer hasn’t already hired an I.T. whiz to access the hard drive and retrieve all the data? In this day and age, even the most secure encryption system can be hacked.”
“Every encryption system has vulnerabilities,” Mason agreed. “However, Dr. Crawford’s computer employs a unique failsafe. If anyone enters the wrong codes or makes an attempt to override the passwords, the hard drive will crash, and none of the data will be recoverable. Dr. Crawford was obsessed with protecting every piece of her data, no matter how inconsequential. She insisted that every computer in the research center be set up with this system.”
“That’s reassuring, Ed,” Taylor said, “but it’s still something for us to be concerned about.”
“Let’s get down to brass tacks and try to strike a deal,” Price said.