A wide grin split his face as he ran a nervous hand over his receding hairline. “And you’re sure this deal is going to go through? I need this, Frank. My business is fucked beyond repair. People will come after me. I owe people, you understand. I didn’t know the market was going to drop. I didn’t have enough time to pull out.”
“The money’s been confirmed. It’s awaiting transfer. First, the clients want to see proof of the mylunate’s potency as an explosive. Then they’ll wire twenty million to our offshore account.” Frank was sitting calmly in a comfortable wingback chair in front of the desk.
They obviously thought they were alone.
They weren’t.
Paul had come to surprise his father for lunch. He’d paused, just out of sight, hearing that his father was in a meeting. His plan had been to back out without interrupting until he heard what his father was saying. He could see the two men reflected in a gilt-framed mirror mounted on the wall.
“All you have to do is show them that video from your home planet, right? Will that be enough?” The mention of “home planet” gave Paul pause as he listened.
“We’ll have to see.”
“You’re sitting there without breaking a sweat, Frank. These guys are terrorists. How can you trust them?”
“I understand them.”
Paul’s father paused, and as though suddenly struck with a thought, he said, “You know they’re likely going to target cities in the United States. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“You’re too emotional, Rosser. This is business. When this is all done, you’ll have more money than you’ll know what to do with. That should take care of your conscience.”
“You can’t be as cold as you pretend.” Rosser scowled, showing a hint of discomfort, as though seeing him for the first time. “This country has provided for you in so many ways.”
“Who do you think set off the mylunate bomb in his own hometown?”
The intercom on Paul’s father’s desk buzzed. Impatiently, he pushed a button, snapping, “What is it?”
“Sir, I just wondered if you wanted me to make any reservations for you before I left for lunch.”
“Why? Did I ask you to?”
“You always ask me to when Paul comes by.”
“When did Paul come by?”
“Isn’t he in your office? I thought he went in nearly ten minutes ago.”
Rosser was silent a moment. “Thanks, Sue. I’ve got this.” He clicked off his intercom and stepped around his desk. As he moved around the corner of his office, he spotted Paul standing just inside the door in the foyer.
“Nothing’s going on.” Paul gave me a quick smile and took another bite of soup. “I just need a change of pace, that’s all. I have a need to feel anonymous for a while.”
He wasn’t done thinking about this, though. I saw that Paul had somehow found the stash of mylunate his father and Frank were planning to sell. Frank had hidden the ore in their basement. Paul took it and hid it in some outdoor location that only he was aware of. I could see it seemed to be in a desert. Where was there a desert in California that was close enough for Paul to have traveled to in a day?
I also saw that he feared they would catch him before he could leave the country. In his mind, there was no way he would allow anyone to commit atrocities. Not when there was something he could do about it. He remembered the horror of 9/11, and he didn’t want anyone to have to suffer that kind of soul destruction. But he couldn’t go to the cops because he didn’t want his father to go to jail. His feelings and thoughts were all confusing and contradictory, and it wasn’t all thought through.
Perspiration was dotting Paul’s upper lip and forehead. He was truly afraid. “I’m fine,” he said sharply, and I realized I was still staring at him.
“Sorry.” I shook my head slightly. “That was probably uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine. Look, I’m going to the men’s room. When the guy, the waiter, comes back, will you handle this for me?” He stood and dug through his pockets hurriedly but clumsily, pulling out his wallet, keys and change simultaneously. With fumbling fingers, he tried to juggle it all, but he only managed to drop several coins as he tried to dig out bills. He’d pulled out more than needed and tried stuffing a few bills back in before dropping his keys.
Stilling his bumbling motions, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, as though asking for help from a divine presence. I could see that his hands were shaking, which alarmed me after having experienced him as a suave, cool and collected guy just a few days ago. I was sure this was a strange state for him to be in.
“I’ve got this.” I grasped his hand supportively, surprised to note that his fingers felt like ice even though it was at least a hundred outside. I tried to give him a reassuring smile. “Go take care of business.”
“Okay.” Exhaling with some exasperation, he tossed his wallet and loose bills across to me. “I’ll be right back.”
Gathering up the pieces, I pulled out the appropriate bills, putting everything else back neatly. He’d left his keys on the ground where they’d fallen, so I reached over with my toe and pulled them closer so I could grab for them without having to get up. I even managed to eat more of my udon, which had cooled enough that I wasn’t going to get severely burned. The vegetables were crisp and delicious, and the shrimp just popped in my mouth with pure goodness. No way did I want to miss out on this when someone else was footing the bill, and Paul was likely going to request to go as soon as he came back from the restroom.
“Everything okay?” The waiter, a middle-aged Asian dude with thinning hair, was small of stature and wore a friendly smile on his face.
“Great,” I replied absently, and I handed him Paul’s money with the bill. As he walked away, I realized that Paul had been gone awhile and frowned. Had he taken off? But no, his keys were here. Maybe his gut was really bothering him. He had been looking a little worse for wear.
Trying to be helpful, I grabbed up his wallet, keys and contract and made my way toward the front door of the restaurant. He was probably anxious to get going and would likely resent having to wait.
It was only as I turned toward my purse to answer my phone when it rang that I caught sight of the commotion outside the window. Paul was struggling with three men, one of whom I recognized as one of the guys who’d tried to grab me the other day. The other two had thick dark hair. Panic, fear and heart-thumping adrenaline overwhelmed my nervous system at once. For a second, I froze. Then I ran out the door in time to see Paul get shoved into a black luxury sedan that shot away while the door was still being closed. I managed to make eye contact with Paul for a moment as the car sped by and I saw his pale, terror-filled face against the side window.