The waiter arrived with their menus and a bread basket. Doug ordered Nadia's iced tea.
"But why go to all that trouble?" she said when they were alone again. "You're risking—"
"Because I've been lied to," he said, his mouth taking a grim turn. "They were keeping things from me and I was determined to find out what."
"And are you satisfied now?" Nadia said, squeezing his hand and praying he'd say yes.
He shook his head. "Not completely."
"Oh, Doug," Nadia said, feeling her heart sink, "you're not going to keep this up, are you?"
He grinned. "Nope. It's too wearing. I still don't know why the company's paying me commissions on sales I'm not making, but at least they're not cheating me, so I can let that go. And I did learn one answer I was looking for—the one that concerns you—so I feel I can back off with my pride intact."
A twinge of alarm ran down Nadia's neck. "Me? What concerns me?"
"Your subsidiary. I found where all the research and development money is going."
Nadia couldn't help but ask. "Where?"
"Stock." Another grin. He looked like a little boy who'd found pirate treasure. "They're using every spare penny to buy back company stock." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "And let's not mention the company by name, OK? Just in case."
Nadia glanced around. In case what? He didn't think he was being followed, did he?
"No, I'm not paranoid," he said, as if reading her mind, "but you never know." He straightened. "Anyway, I matched the timing of the stock purchases to a graph of the stock price, and it seems that every time the price takes a little dip, they buy up a bunch of it."
"Propping up the price? Why would they do that?"
"I can't imagine. But I can imagine why they'd be secretly hoarding a load of stock. Think about it: if you had insider knowledge that the stock price was going to jump, wouldn't you want to pick up as many shares as possible—without tipping anyone off, of course."
"But that's not only illegal, it's stupid. And as the principals in the company, they each must hold a ton of shares already."
He shrugged. "Since when does greed know limits? The important thing is that they must think the stock is going to be very valuable. And that, my dear, is a good thing to know."
Nadia caught herself running through the sources she might tap for a loan and pulled up short.
"Why?" She couldn't keep the note of reproach out of her tone. "So we can use this stolen information and load up on shares?"
Doug glanced away, then back at her. "Does sound tacky, doesn't it." He sighed. "Easy money… it's such a high. I suppose I'm as vulnerable as the next guy. Seemed like a great idea… get that start-up money and go to work for myself. Now, sitting here with you, it seems kind of sleazy."
"I can't quite take on the holier-than-thou role. For a few moments there I was thinking about how a windfall from a sure thing like that could affect my mother's standard of living—and my own."
"What's that make us?"
"Human, I guess. Though some people would call us stupid humans for not jumping on it."
Doug caressed the back of her hand. "I'll never feel stupid if I'm with you."
She laughed. "How many scotches have you had?"
He only smiled and she knew the love in his eyes was reflected in her own.
They sat in silence for a while. Finally Nadia voiced a question that had been bothering her. "What I'd like to know is what do they have up their sleeves that makes them so sure the stock is going to jump?"
"Only two things I can think of." Doug held up a finger. "They're expecting a takeover bid." Another finger popped up alongside the first. "Or… they're expecting a major breakthrough, like a new product that's going to take the market by storm." He pointed both fingers at Nadia. "Hey… maybe it's the project you're working on. Maybe you're the key to the company's future."
Me? A queasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. The best she could say about the status of the project under her captaincy was that it was becalmed and rudderless.
"If that's the case," she said, "I think we'd be better off leaving our money in the bank. And maybe I will have that chardonnay."
8
"I don't know how you manage it," Kent Garrison said with a note of hostility as Luc stepped into the conference room. Kent was stuffed into a pink golf shirt that matched the flush of his ample cheeks. "But somehow you always manage to be the last to arrive."
Up yours, Luc thought, but managed an ingenuous smile instead. "Just lucky, I guess."
Kent had called about an hour ago, saying, "We've caught the culprit," and that they needed an emergency meeting. He'd say no more, but Luc knew what he meant: the software people had tracked the hacker who'd broken into the GEM system.
Kent sneered. "What were you doing—counting your wine bottles?"
That brought Luc up short. Did they know? He glanced quickly at the usually dapper Brad Edwards. He looked terrible. Wrinkled shirt, half-combed hair, glazed eyes, slack expression—was he on tranquilizers?
"Counting his wine bottles," Brad said with a dull laugh. "That's a good one."
"I had to cancel plans," Luc said. A lie. His only plans had been to continue packing his wine. "Plus I was up late at the test session."
"Oh, right," Brad said, looking apologetic. "How'd it go?"
Kent held up a hand before Luc could answer. "Close the door first."
"It's Saturday morning," Luc said. "We're the only ones here."
Kent shook his head. "Not quite. Your new researcher is signed into the lab."
"Really?" Luc had to smile. "Amazing what the offer of a million-dollar bonus will do." He pulled the door shut and latched it, then sat down. "Couldn't we have discussed this in a conference call?"
"Our computer's been hacked," Kent said, leaning back and stretching the fabric of his golf shirt over the bloat of his belly. "How do we know our phones aren't tapped?"
The possibility startled Luc, especially in light of the uninvited guest at the test session. He told his two partners about it.
"Someone was spying on us?" Brad said, his lower lip jutting.
"I can't say for sure," Luc said. "He may simply have been some sort of squatter who thought the building was deserted. After all, we only use it once a month."
Brad turned to Kent. "Do you think he's connected to Gleason?"
"Gleason?" Luc said, alarm tugging at the inner wall of his chest. He knew only one Gleason. "You don't mean our sales rep, do you? What about him?"
"He's our hacker," Kent said.
Luc slumped back in his chair. "Oh, no."
"Yeah," Kent said, his face reddening. "One of our own."
"Whatever happened to loyalty?" Brad was saying, looking around as if the answer were going to pop out of the air. "First Macintosh, now Gleason. I can't stand it."
"Has he made any demands?" Luc said.
Kent shook his head. "Not yet. But he will."
"How do we know that?"
"He broke the financial codes."
"Damn it!" Luc said, anger burning through the alarm. "I thought the software people said they'd stop him!"
Brad fidgeted. "We told them to trace him, then stop him. They spent all night trying to trace him. The sysop in charge overnight said Gleason's very good. The only way they managed to identify him was through a signature code transmitted by his computer."
"I don't understand," Luc said.
"He was using a company laptop!" Kent shouted, hammering the table. "That's how he got through the fire wall. He used the goddamn computer we gave him, the sonovabitch!"
"Why would he do such a thing?" Brad said.
Luc ignored him. "Then you think he knows about the repurposing of the R & D funds?"