Выбрать главу

Derek smiled and bowed slightly. “That’s me.”

“I’ve played your game.”

“I kind of figured that. I hope you liked it.”

“Are you kidding? The game was a monster hit.”

Derek laughed. “Let’s hope we can say the same about the sequel.”

“You can’t miss,” Maj said, enjoying the moment. Banshee’s Curse was a favorite game. “I mean, the way you just leave the characters at the top of Carrig’s Tower, with the first piece of a treasure map they hadn’t expected to find, you can’t walk away from that.”

“Maybe I could get you to write a glowing review for the cover copy,” Derek said. “If I knew your name.”

“Oh, sorry.” Maj introduced herself. “And, yes, this is my first game publisher’s banquet.”

“Have you got something new coming out that I should be looking for?”

“Actually, I’m here trying to find a publisher for a flight-sim.” And trying to figure out what happened to Peter Griffen.

“Usually they only let game publishers in.”

Maj felt a little embarrassed, but the tickets had checked out good under the scanner the security people were using. If they were fakes, they were definitely top-of-the-line.

“Personally,” Derek said, “I’m glad to see somebody who likes my game instead of hearing someone talk about theirs.”

Maj grinned, but inside she was still feeling intense. “Well, this year they seem to have added something new. Kidnapping.”

Swirling his glass of champagne, Derek shrugged. “If you believe what you see.”

“You don’t sound like you do.” Maj glanced around the room again, taking in the ornate splendor of the huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the painted vases, and the way the low walls crammed with plants broke the floor into almost private sections. Trees at the corners of the walls helped carry out the illusion. Still, there were large gathering places near the room’s three open bars. A heavily laden banquet table filled the center of the room.

“I guess maybe I’ve been around too many marketing people,” Derek admitted. “They’ll use anything they can to hype a product and get it out into the hands of consumers.”

“Surely they’d stop at kidnapping.”

“Marketing people,” Derek said seriously, “don’t stop at anything. Trust me.”

“I thought that was one of their standard lines.”

Derek’s grin was even broader. “A girl with a sense of humor. I like that, Maj Green.”

Maj enjoyed Derek’s attention. The shimmering dark red cocktail dress she wore made her feel as elegant as anyone in the room. And Derek’s attention didn’t come across as flirty, just as fun. “So you think Eisenhower Productions and Peter Griffen are in on the kidnapping together?”

“I can see it happening. In fact, I was even thinking of it as a game hook.”

The suggestion caught Maj’s attention immediately. “How?”

“You’ve got Peter Griffen out here introducing what looks a killer game,” Derek said. “Only in the middle of everything, he disappears. At least, that’s what we’re told. I could see marketing coming up with a contest: Enter Realm of the Bright Waters, fight evil wizards, ride flying dragons, and find Peter Griffen to win a million bucks.” He raised an eyebrow. “Think that would get the gaming community’s attention?”

“Yes.” It’s definitely got mine. Maj ran the scenario through her mind, trusting her instincts. She remembered how sincere Peter had looked as he discussed his game. No way could she imagine him faking his own kidnapping to build up game sales. Then again, Leif did mention that Eisenhower Productions had been looking for a solid hit for a few years. Maybe they weren’t the only ones.

“Everyone knows,” Derek said, “if you get an interested gaming community, you’ve got an inflated profit. I believe Peter’s disappearance has got dollar signs tied to it. Something like this is worth millions in advertising alone. And that’s being conservative.”

“Do you know anyone at Eisenhower Productions?” Maj asked.

“Acquaintances.” Derek glanced around the room. “Nobody I do business with.”

Maj had already noticed the table reserved for the Eisenhower Productions crew. Peter Griffen’s place card stood at one end.

“Surprise, surprise,” Derek said in a low voice, glancing in the direction of a dozen people who’d just been ushered into the banquet room by the maitre d’. “We’re being invaded by the media tonight.”

Veronica Rivers, the reporter who’d been covering the gaming convention at the hotel, was prominent among the reporters. The maître d’ showed them to a table, but the reporters immediately wandered off, staking out interviewing claims.

“That’s a vicious little game Eisenhower Productions is playing,” Derek said. “If they engineered Peter’s disappearance.”

“Why?”

“If those entertainment reporters figure out they’re getting used, they’re going to turn on Eisenhower like a system-wide crash fragmenting a hard drive. With the financial situation they’re in, that wouldn’t be pretty.”

“What financial situation?” Maj asked.

Derek shook his head. “I forgot you weren’t in the biz there for a minute. Rumor has it that Eisenhower Productions was about to climb in the old financial coffin before Peter Griffen and Realm of the Bright Waters came along. That’s part of the reason he was able to muscle them into agreeing with everything he wanted. However, they ran short on liquid cash. So did Peter, from what I heard.”

“I’d heard he was financially stable.”

“He wasn’t in any danger of starving,” Derek admitted, “but it takes a lot of cash to develop a game. Most publishers underwrite development, but in Eisenhower Productions’ case, they weren’t able to do it. Peter may have gotten more rushed than he wanted. Maybe he and Eisenhower Productions were both desperate.”

Maj tried to make that fit with what she had seen of Peter, but it didn’t work. Peter had come across too confident, too sure of himself. But that could have been an act.

Abruptly a public address system cut on, filling the banquet area with staticky noise. “May I have your attention, please.”

The crowd turned to face the speaker’s area as the lights dimmed and spotlights ignited one end of the room. A short, heavyset man with a curly beard and glasses stood in the middle of the light. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Don DeGovia, CEO of Eisenhower Productions.”

A slight murmur ran though the crowd.

Maj listened with keen interest, wondering if Peter Griffen had already been found. And if he had been, in what kind of shape he was in.

16

“As you all have doubtless heard,” Don DeGovia went on, “an unbelievable crime was committed at the convention today when Peter Griffen, whose Griffen Games imprint, Online and On Target, was getting ready to unleash the new Net experience, Realm of the Bright Waters, was kidnapped and taken from us.”

Maj listened intently and glanced around the room, wondering how the other game publishers were reacting. But everyone in the room seemed interested in what was going on.

“Mr. DeGovia,” Veronica Rivers spoke up. Evidently her camera and sound equipment were located in her clothing because Maj noticed that the woman wasn’t panicking while looking for a cameraman.

“Yes, Ms. Rivers.”

“Can you tell us what is being done to locate Peter Griffen?”

DeGovia didn’t hesitate. “Everything,” he said. “Everything that can be done is now being done. By the police and by the private security guards we maintain. So far, I’m told, there are no leads. We hope to change that.” The CEO cleared his throat. “As of tonight, Eisenhower Productions is offering a reward of one million dollars to anyone who can help us find Peter Griffen.”