“I took it happily,” he blurted. She needed to understand.
“I saw it as our way to save Abby. You’ve
got to understand I didn’t do it for greed. I did it out of necessity.”
Kate’s face said it all. Disappointment scarred her expression, but Josh expected that. This kind of news didn’t come with a round of applause and a ticker tape parade. He was just glad she wasn’t angry.
“How dangerous is the development?”
“Not very. The owners are likely to have problems with subsidence or structural integrity over time. I don’t know how well it would hold up in earthquake conditions, but it would have to be a very large quake to have an effect in Dixon and that’s very unlikely.”
“Josh, why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
“I couldn’t. You were too preoccupied with Abby at the time and too happy when she was well. I didn’t want to burst your bubble. But I promised myself I would tell you when the time was right.” He paused. “I never found the right moment.”
“Until now. Why?”
“Someone knows and they used it against me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Blackmail.”
“How much?”
“Fifty-five thousand, so far.”
“Fifty-five thousand? Where did that money come
from? You haven’t been taking more bribes, have you?”
Josh recoiled. “Christ, no. I only did it the once. They did try me again, but I left rather than be in someone’s pocket. That’s why I got out of the construction business altogether. I didn’t want to get involved again.”
“So how did you pay the blackmailer?”
“With a life insurance policy. I sold it.”
“You sold your life insurance? What if you’d been killed last week, what would have happened if you had no insurance?” Kate’s temper began to slip.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got insurance. I started a new policy after I sold the other one. It was a quick way to raise money.”
Kate calmed down. “So why the big confession all of a sudden?”
“I think what’s been happening to me recently has something to do with it—the car accident, the wreath, the guy at the party. I think the blackmailer is calling in the marker. I think someone is going to release my part to the press.”
“Do you know who’s doing this?”
“Yes.”
“Was it the man with Bob?”
“No. I think he’s a hired hand. We checked him out and he doesn’t work for Pinnacle.”
“Who is it?”
“I don’t want to say.”
“I think it’s a bit late for what you want,” Kate said sternly.
Josh had hoped to keep this detail from Kate. “It’s Belinda Wong.”
“Your secretary?” She was incredulous. “How did
she find out?”
“She overheard a phone call,” Josh lied. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her about their affair. He would, but just not now. Neither of them could handle the enormity of it all. That was what he told himself.
“Go to the police.”
“I can’t.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’ll be ruined.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“Let me deal with it. I’ll finish it.”
“Abby, we’re going,” Kate fired across the playground.
“Oh,”
she whined.
“Now, Abby,” Kate snapped. She stood up from the
swing and walked away from her husband.
“Kate, tell me what you’re thinking. Kate, Kate,
please,” Josh called after her.
She didn’t answer.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sitting at the front desk, two security guards occasionally glanced at the surveillance monitors. The main focus of their attention was on the fourteen-inch portable television perched on top of the bank of monitors. One guard got up from his seat and changed channels. The other guard checked his watch.
“Patrol time.” He picked up his walkie-talkie and set off for the elevator. “Tell me if anything good happens, eh?”
“Sure,” the other guard said, without taking his eyes off the screen.
At seven p.m., they were only two hours into their shift and a shitload of television would be watched before their time at Pinnacle Investments was over at
seven the next morning.
The building was quiet in its slumber. The burble of activity of buying and selling investment interests was on hold. The only sounds came from the television and its bored viewers, the hum of the fluorescent lights and the bleeps of a phone being dialed from an office on the top floor in the east wing.
In his office, Dexter Tyrell tapped a number into a cellular phone. The phone was registered neither to him nor to Pinnacle Investments, per the professional’s instructions. He was contacting his hired killer. He wanted a progress report, and more importantly, he wanted results. He needed results.
His meeting with the board had gone as he expected.
The report hadn’t been well received. Tyrell’s viatical division was returning a profit, but it was again short of the fifteen-percent growth target required by the firm and promised by Tyrell. The results were better than the quarter before, and those were better than the quarter before that. He had it under control; all he needed was time and he would turn it around. He
knew the board was turning against him. They wanted to be rid of him. He could see himself being replaced by someone who they thought could do the job more effectively.
The idiots, if they only knew. Would any of them have had the guts to do what he had done? He doubted it. His only way out was to increase the pace of his program.
He knew he risked exposure and an investigation, but his back was against the wall and he would be damned if he would let them have his division. He had to risk it.
Tyrell listened to the burr of the telephone ringing.
“Come on, come on, answer the phone. I want to
know what you are doing,” he muttered to himself.
After several rings, the professional picked up.
“Hello.” His one word was impenetrable. It gave no indication to his feelings, his location, his well-being. It didn’t even sound like a welcome.
“Where were you? Why didn’t you answer the phone
right away?” Tyrell demanded.
“What do you want?” the professional said dismissively.
“I want to know how far you have gotten with your assignments.”
“They’re proceeding.”
