Covert Attraction (21 page)

It was heavy enough to suggest it wasn’t empty.

Sure enough, when she managed to pull off the top, she found a bunch of printouts of the scanned-in manufacturing log pages as well as reports. Some also appeared to be forms addressed to the FDA.

Just because they were hard copies and were intended to be shredded didn’t mean they contained anything harmful to Corcoris—like the truth about the quality and contents of some of its products. But they just might. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to check them out here. Besides, experts like the FDA guys would be better able to figure that out.

But if these described things the way she hoped they did, they might provide exactly the evidence she was looking for.

Wouldn’t it be fun to be able to show Daniel that she’d accomplished what she had set out to do?

* * *

Daniel waited impatiently on the second floor with the FDA guys. They were to be met by Ivan Rissinger and accompanied upstairs to the conference room.

He wished he could keep up his guise but meet them up there later. Unfortunately, for now, he had to stick with them so no one’s suspicions about this nerdy lab guy would be aroused.

But he’d break away as soon as he could. He needed to know what was going on with Beth.

Could she actually be latching on to something helpful? The FDA inspectors still hadn’t so far. That was what the two men had quietly related to him as they had left the men’s room together to meet up with their counterpart, Neva.

Of course, they hadn’t had much time here today to look. They now intended to spend most of the afternoon in the other building getting a tour and checking out the manufacturing facilities, then return to the lab area for a while.

If necessary, they’d stay around tomorrow, too.

“Hey, all of you. Welcome.” Rissinger was striding down the hall toward where the four of them stood. Where had he been? He hadn’t just gotten out of the elevator. “Are you ready for our meeting upstairs?”

Alan seemed to be the inspector in charge. “We sure are. How many people will be there?”

“You know,” said the executive, whose lined face suggested that working here had aged him significantly, “I’m not sure. But if anyone isn’t there that you want to talk to, we’ll make sure they come in here today, even if they’re too late for the meeting.” He seemed just to notice Daniel then and frowned. “Er...how are things working out in the lab today...Daniel?” He’d seemed to make an effort before coming up with Daniel’s name. Daniel was surprised he had been correct.

Or was that just an act? Was he suspicious—or even aware—of what Daniel was actually doing here?

Daniel had to remain wary of everyone, of course. Imagine the worst of all of them. “They’re fine,” he answered, pasting his best geek smile on his face. “I hope it’s okay, but these nice FDA folks asked me to join you in the meeting in case there’s any translation of chemical jargon that needs to be made.”

“Of course,” Rissinger said, but his smile looked forced. “Shall we go?”

He led them to the elevator, and for the first time for at least the last half hour, Daniel felt a shred of relief.

He would at least be closer to the floor Beth was on. He could seek her out. Make sure she was all right.

And find out if the damned stubborn woman had actually done as she had intended here and finally found the evidence she needed.

* * *

Nothing. Beth found nothing else in Jackson’s office that might be in the least useful.

No computer passwords stuck on Post-it Notes anywhere or even inside drawers. No samples of products gone bad with labels that said they’d been sold anyway.

And there certainly weren’t any indications that Milt Ranich had been its prior occupant.

Her head shaking in disappointment, she began pushing her cleaning cart toward the door.

At least she was still on the executives’ floor. And the bottom of her large trash receptacle was now lined with those reports that had been earmarked for shredding. That should give her a sense of triumph, she told herself. Surely something there contained evidence that could be used against Corcoris.

But before she reached the door, it opened.

Beth froze. Her mind groped for the best way to handle this. It had to be Bert Jackson coming into his office.

Instead, it was worse. Much worse.

Preston Corcoris stomped in and glared at her.

“So here you are. I’ve been looking for you. You’re supposed to come to my office to clean.”

But the evil grin on his face told Beth that the man knew exactly who she was.

Chapter 21

E
ven so, Beth decided to play dumb. “Oh, sorry, sir, but I was told to start cleaning in here. I’ll hurry and check with Ms. Cantrera, though, to see if it’s okay for me to go to your office.”

Better yet, she would check in with Daniel. She realized she was in over her head now.

She hated to admit it, but she needed Daniel’s protection—and his presence to reassure her that all would work out.

She needed to leave here right away. But how could she get around Corcoris? He stood in the doorway, tall and unyielding. The pudginess of his face was exaggerated by the width of his ugly, snide smile.

“I’m the boss around here. I’m even Ms. Cantrera’s boss. You’ll come with me.” He strode into the room toward her.

Beth quickly ducked behind her cart, then made a dash for the open door. But he was faster. He returned to the door first and slammed it in front of her.

“You’re coming with me,” he repeated. “Bring your cart.”

What should she do now? Going into the hallway with him seemed like the smartest move. Someone might be around, or there might be other distractions to help her get away from this evil man.

Head down, trying again to assume her cleaning-staff character, she got behind the cart and began pushing it, stopping long enough to open the door again.

“Don’t even think about it,” Corcoris whispered into her ear. He stood behind the cart with her, and he linked his arm in hers. She nearly shivered at the unwelcome touch. At least he still wore his suit jacket so she didn’t have to feel his skin against her arm, which was bare beneath her T-shirt sleeves.

Together they pushed the heavy thing into the hall, which was empty. And there weren’t any other people inside nearby offices, at least not within yelling distance. None that Beth could see.

The cart rumbled less and went slower on the carpeted floor than it did on many of the other levels where she had cleaned. The lab floor had a linoleum surface to keep it more easily cleanable, and even the cafeteria’s tile was easier to push the cart along.

The extra effort delayed their progress. It gave Beth a little more time to think.

Maybe she could turn this into an opportunity. A way to finally get Preston Corcoris to admit his ongoing treachery, the way he endangered thousands of people’s lives. And threatened hers and her family’s.

And just maybe she could find a way to get him to say what had happened to Milt Ranich.

They reached the end of the hall. Corcoris kept hold of her arm, yanking her toward him as he pushed the door open to enter his office. He shoved her inside.

The outer area was, as with Jackson’s, a secretarial office, clean and orderly and bland. But Corcoris propelled her through it and into the office beyond.

It was much as she remembered Preston Corcoris’s personal domain, containing an elegant teak desk with matching chairs and tables, a leather sofa and shelves around the room’s perimeter holding framed testimonials to Corcoris Pharmaceuticals products—all garnered when Preston’s father had been at the company’s helm. It smelled of the overly sweet shaving lotion that Corcoris favored. Beth remembered it too well.

“Wait here,” Preston commanded. He went back out but was gone less than a minute before he pushed the cart through the door. “Time for you to get to work...Beth.”

But she knew he didn’t want her to do any cleaning. He just hadn’t wanted to leave the cart in the hall to indicate where she was.

She nevertheless said, “Yes, sir,” and eased her way toward the cart, her mind analyzing what she had on it that she could use as a weapon. Strong soap hurled into his eyes? A mop handle shoved into his gut? She would have to see what opportunities arose.

In the meantime, though, she’d managed, while Corcoris was so briefly in the hall, to push a button on the burner phone in her pants pocket—the button that should record their conversation.

Then there was the other phone, in the pocket on the other side. She had also pushed a button on it—to call Daniel. Assuming he had his own phone on him in the lab.

If so, he, too, would be able to hear everything. She only hoped he would understand and get up here in time to help her.

She began going through the motions of getting ready to clean the office. “Is there someplace you’d like for me to start, sir?” She didn’t look at him as she talked.

“Yes,” he replied. “Right over here.”

She had to look to see where he was designating. It was an inside corner of the elegantly appointed room where the wall was devoid of pictures.

But a door was suddenly opening into it. She saw that Corcoris was holding something that appeared to be a button. What was that all about?

She didn’t want to find out.

“You know, sir,” she said, emphasizing the word
sir
as if it were an insult, “I think I’d better leave now. I’ll come back later.”

“No, Andrea.” All pretense was gone, and his voice sounded menacing. “You’re coming with me.”

* * *

All bets were off. Daniel, seeing the caller ID when he’d grabbed his muted phone after it began vibrating in his pocket, was frantic. And furious.

He had listened to what was being said.

The meeting with the FDA guys hadn’t yet begun, but Corcoris executives were trickling into the conference room a floor below their offices.

Not Preston Corcoris, though.

He was with Beth. And now it was clear that Daniel’s suspicions, and hers, were true. Preston knew who she really was.

Daniel had seated himself in the front row, right beside where the FDA inspectors had been told to sit by Ivan Rissinger. Georgine Droman now stood before them, chatting away with Alan Correy, Neva Therber and Doug Wrisken.

Daniel didn’t bother to assume his geeky personality as he rose. “Sorry. I have to run.”

Neva looked up. “Everything okay?”

Daniel didn’t answer but headed toward the door, phone held tightly to his ear.

To his surprise, he was followed into the crowded hallway by the FDA gang. He shot them an irritated look. “I’ll be back soon,” he lied.

“Considering your suddenly dropping your undercover personality,” Neva said, “I think Judge Treena would rather we go with you.”

Daniel took an instant to assess them. “What do you mean?”

“We’re CIU, too,” Alan said.

* * *

“Andrea? Who’s that?” Beth pretended to be confused even as she struggled to maintain her shy cleaner’s personality. But she felt horrified.

And scared.

Daniel, are you listening?
she cried out in her mind.

She was in even more over her head than she’d thought.

“You, of course, my darling Andrea.” Corcoris’s tone was mocking, his eyes hard, as he leaned against a bookcase near the door, in effect challenging her to try to run. But she knew he’d grab her again if she tried. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you got here. Even tried to confirm who you are by having a guy I’ve occasionally hired to help me with some less savory activities steal a car and follow you, but that damned tech guy you’ve been pretending to care about got in the way. Then I sent him to break in at your parents’, but he was too stupid and got caught.” He glared at Beth. “Are you trying to get—what’s his name? Daniel?—to file lab reports with contents you tell him to?”

Then he knew who she was, but not Daniel. She dropped some of the pretense without revealing the entire truth. “Yeah, but that Daniel’s too honest, and they pretty much only have him working on some of the older stuff from your father’s day that was actually safe and effective.” She stood up straighter, squaring her shoulders. “It’s only your more recent meds where you’re filing official reports that contain fraudulent quality-control test results, right?”

“What does it matter? Our clinical trials are nothing short of perfect.”

“Only because the highest-level ingredients are used for the drugs that are provided for those tests, the stuff that’s used in the labs in this building. The stuff you sell to the public, with the ingredients shipped to the manufacturing building—that’s another story.”

“No one’s proven that,” Corcoris spat. “And once you’re gone, no one will even try to.”

That wasn’t true. The wheels had already been set in motion to investigate and prosecute everyone here who was involved—him especially. But to inform him of that would only be more dangerous.

He motioned to her. “Here. Let’s go.” He was pointing toward the door that formed a hole in his office wall.

“What’s that door?” Beth said, partly for Daniel’s benefit. He had to be listening. Otherwise, she would undoubtedly die.

Like Milt?

“I’m going to show you.” Corcoris’s leer suggested that to go there would be dangerous. Potentially lethal.

“I don’t think so.”

“I do.”

Beth gasped as Corcoris darted around to the front of his desk, opened a drawer and extracted a small but lethal-looking gun, which he cocked and aimed toward her.

“Are you going to shoot me if I don’t?” Again, that was for Daniel’s benefit. Beth hated how her voice squeaked in fear.

Too late for her to grab something from the cleaning car to protect herself. None of it would do any good against a gun anyway.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

She didn’t move, though. To go there would certainly be foolish. If she had any chance at all to survive, she had to stay here.

Instead, she tried to keep talking. If nothing else, there would be a record of this conversation to make it easier to prosecute Corcoris...even if she was no longer around. “Is that what you did with Milt Ranich? You know, even though he seemed thoroughly disgusted by the way this company was being run, he didn’t betray you.”

“Really? Well, if he hadn’t yet, it was only a matter of time. The guy was a wimp. He kept telling me how to run my business
for the good of our customers.
” He said the last in a high-pitched, mocking tone. “But I’d have lost millions if I’d done things his way.”

Which would have been the right way, but to keep him talking Beth didn’t remind him of that.

“So where is Milt now?” she asked.

“He’s down there.” He motioned again toward the doorway. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

“I don’t think so.” The only thing Beth could do now was to stay as stubborn as possible. If he shot her here, it’d be pretty clear who did it, another crime to add to his already huge list. “He’s down there?” she asked. “Or is it his remains?”

“Whatever.” He pulled the gun up and held it the way Beth saw cops aim on TV shows—stiffened and ready to shoot. “Let’s go.”

“No.” Beth closed her eyes, bracing for the pain she knew would come—assuming she was alive long enough to feel anything.

“No!” That was another voice from outside the office door, which suddenly burst open. A beloved male voice that she had longed to hear for so many reasons. “U.S. Marshal,” Daniel shouted. “Drop your weapon.” He held a gun that looked even more lethal than Corcoris’s, and it was aimed right at the horrible man.

Daniel got right beside Beth. She had never been happier to see anyone. He no longer looked like the lab geek he had portrayed here. He was all tough-and-muscular lawman, even wearing a protective vest over his shirt that said U.S. Marshals Service. “Drop it, Corcoris.”

“You? Then you’re not—” Instead of dropping his gun, the man fired.

Daniel had used his body to shove Beth out of the line of fire, but she screamed, “Daniel!” Surely he hadn’t been hurt.

Apparently not, since he shot back, several rounds.

Preston Corcoris crumpled to the floor.

Daniel hurried past Beth, grabbed Corcoris’s gun and checked his neck for a pulse.

“He’s still alive. Call the paramedics.”

“Already done,” said a female voice from near the door. Only then did Beth glance that way. The three FDA inspectors were there—also wearing U.S. Marshals vests.

Really? What was going on here?

It didn’t matter. Beth stood and ran over to Daniel. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I should be asking you the same thing. It was a damned fool stunt you pulled to come up here and face him alone. You should have told me that was what you were up to.”

“You’d have tried to stop me.”

“You bet I would. In fact—”

Beth reached up, planted her arms around his neck and drew him down for a hard, determined kiss.