Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Like her. Like Daniel.
The financial engine that kept it going was nearly out of gas, however. The money was nearly all gone, and she supposed it was a sign of personal growth that she wasn’t worried about that anymore. Or maybe she was just admitting failure.
“This way,” she said.
She led him farther down the corridor, and when she got to the last door on the left, she put her hand on the cool panel and stopped.
“You stroking out on me?”
Cathy glanced over her shoulder. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think.”
“True. But considering how many people are hanging by a thread around here, can you blame me?”
“No.”
Opening the door, she felt her breath get caught, and between one blink and the next, she saw the office not as it was now, empty of all personal effects, but rather as it had been, with Gus’s basketball jerseys and sports memorabilia.
Funny, how his things had been windows that looked into a vista she loved. Without them, the space was claustrophobic with its generic furniture and bare walls.
“He really did leave,” Daniel commented.
“But he’s back now.” Feeling the need to rush, she went across and opened one of the side drawers of the desk. “Oh, good.”
“Huh?”
Feeling foolish, she held up a Rubik’s Cube. “He, ah, he left this behind. The cleaning staff found it in the corner over there. It was the only thing he left behind and I saved it for him.”
She stopped herself there because it was kind of a lie. She had been the one to find the toy, but admitting she’d come down here and sat in his chair, and wrapped his fleece around herself, and idly gone through the empty desk, was an admission she preferred to keep to herself.
Daniel’s stare dropped to the colorful cube, with its patchwork of primary colors. “I never could do those things. Can’t play chess, either.”
“You’re good at a lot of other things.”
He shrugged. “So what’s up, Phalen.”
“I wanted you to know that the entire facility, aboveground and below, is on lockdown.” She idly twisted the levels, the reds, blues, greens, and yellows, shifting around, trading places yet not aligning. “No pass cards, no codes. Entrance granted on a case-by-case basis by guard staff, which I’ve doubled. And before you ask, all of the men on the shifts have worked for me for the last five years. If they were part of the abduction, they would have struck by now.”
“You sure about that.”
“At this point, as sure as I can be about anything.”
“What else is on your mind.”
“Nothing—”
“Bullshit. If you only had to tell me about the security, you could have done it right outside that room. So why are we down here.”
After a moment, she put the cube on the desktop, lowered her chin, and stared out from under her brows. “If you insist on accurately guessing my secrets, I may have to break off our friendship.”
Daniel chuckled. “You’re tougher than that.”
“Yes. I am.” Unleashing the hatred she’d been sucking down into her chest, she said in a low voice, “We are going to get this taken care of, you and me.”
The man’s eyes narrowed.
“You know what I am saying, Daniel Joseph.”
“Yeah, maybe.” That cane was lifted up, as if he were reminding her of it. “You got a staff full of guards who don’t have stage-four lung cancer. Why me?”
“Two reasons.” With a steady hand, she tapped the toy. “You care about Gus more than they do. And I can trust you in ways I can’t them.”
“I thought you said that everyone’s worked for you for five years, blah, blah, blah.”
“I did. But this is… different. This is personal to me.”
In the silence that followed, Daniel’s eyes shifted to the Rubik’s Cube. As an expression of calculation sharpened his features, he nodded to himself—as if he’d come up with an idea he thought was a good one.
“Fair enough,” he murmured. “I accept the assignment, even if it kills me.”
Cathy extended her palm. “I can pay you.”
Worse came to worst, she could sell one of her paintings. Or some of those sculptures in her foyer.
“Nah. This is pro bono. ’Cuz I owe Gus—and because I’d decided to go after the fucker who did this anyway.”
As Daniel shook what was offered, his eyes gleamed with a darkness that might have scared even her—if she hadn’t wanted to see exactly that kind of banked aggression. And this was why she needed Daniel. He was a dying man with nothing to lose, and this would be his final act.
People did their best work when it was their legacy—and as a secondary benefit, she had the sense the purpose would keep him alive a little longer.
When they released their grips, Daniel said, “I do have a favor to ask.”
Cathy looked toward the door. “Yes, of course. I will take care of her for however long I have.”