"Top floor—the tenth."
At that moment she looked squarely at him and he saw no sign of fear or distrust, only concern—not for or about him but for her missing friend.
Deep concern. Warning prickles raced along his scalp and gathered at the back of his neck. Too deep perhaps for someone she'd described as "just a friend of the family"?
"How will we get into his apartment?"
"I have a key," she said, moving ahead of him.
As Luc followed her to the elevator, a lump in his gut told him that there had to be more to this relationship than Nadia had let on.
At Gleason's door he hid his unease and waited as Nadia knocked and called. Finally, when she inserted her key in the lock, he acted.
"Allow me," he said, gripping the doorknob as the bolt snapped back. "Just in case."
"In case of what?" she said, blanching.
"Something may not be right here."
He pushed the door open and went in first, Nadia right behind him. A few steps took him down the short entry hall until he could see the overturned furniture in the living room. He turned quickly and gripped her upper arms to keep her from coming any farther.
"Wait. Don't go in there. Something's happened."
"What?" Her eyes went wide and wild as she tore loose and fought past him. "What do you mean?"
Luc followed and almost plowed into her as she skidded to a stop on the living room threshold. The couch lay tipped over onto its back, a coffee table was flush against the opposite wall, and a floor lamp lay on the floor.
"Ohmigod!" she cried, hands to her mouth. "Ohmigod!"
Her shoulder bag tumbled to the floor as she darted off in another direction, moving deeper into the apartment, Luc at her heels. No stopping her. As she turned left into what looked like a bedroom, Luc wheeled right and found a room that looked like an office. As he heard doors slamming in the other room and then in the hallway, he noted briefly with satisfaction that the desktop computer's mini tower had been ripped apart, its contents strewn about the room. The hard drive lay bent and cracked open, damaged beyond repair.
As he turned to go, Nadia appeared and they almost collided. She must have found Gleason because she looked as if she were about to faint. He gripped her arm to support her.
"He's not here!" she gasped, panting as if she'd run a marathon. "I checked his bedroom and the kitchen and the bathroom and the closets but he's not here!"
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.