Flash (28 page)

“We had a lovely chat. She wanted to know how things were going at Glow.”

Olivia looked up, frowning. “Why didn't she call me, in that case?”

“Because,” Zara said pointedly, “she wanted to know, specifically, what was going on between you and Jasper Sloan, and she was pretty sure she wouldn't get the whole truth out of you.”

Olivia drummed her fingers on the desktop. “Someone blabbed. Aunt Rose, probably.”

“Could have been any number of people, knowing this family.” Zara gave her a commiserating smile. “Don't worry, dear. I downplayed the gossip as much as I could. Told her not to worry.”

Olivia sighed. “Everything okay down in Tucson?”

“Oh, yes. Candace was a trifle annoyed with your father because he played golf yesterday without his hat. She says she's always having to remind him to wear sunscreen and a hat when he goes out on the course.”

“His hat.” Olivia heard a crackling sound.

She looked down and saw that she had just crumpled a yellow sticky note in one hand. She did not see the message that was scrawled on it.

What she saw was a sudden, sharp mental image of the crushable, wide-brimmed hat her mother had given to her father to carry in his back pocket. She had bought it for him after the dermatologist had removed some rough patches of skin caused by exposure to the sun. The diagnosis was an extremely common one, actinic keratoses. Not dangerous, but left untreated such patches could eventually change into skin cancers.

Melwood Gill had been badly shaken by a recent brush with skin cancer.

Melwood Gill, blackmailer?
Impossible
. Not Melwood. She was leaping to wild conclusions. Intuition was all well and good, but you couldn't rely on it for something as vitally important as this.

Logic was needed here.

Jasper's words echoed in her ears.
Blackmail is always personal
.

The blackmailer knew a lot about both her schedule and Jasper's. He had information that had probably been known only to Rollie. Melwood had worked at Glow for more than twenty years. Rollie had relied
on him. Given his position in the accounting department, it was likely that Melwood knew more about Rollie and Glow, Inc., than anyone else in the company. If he
had
been embezzling funds for several months, there was no telling how much snooping he had done.

Anyone who was capable of embezzling from an employer who trusted him was capable of going through a dead man's files.

Capable of blackmail?

“Olivia?” Zara looked concerned. “Something wrong, dear?”

“No.” Olivia forced a quick, reassuring smile. “Nothing. I was just thinking about tomorrow night.”

“Don't worry. The Camelot Blue event will be a smashing success. You'll see.” Zara wafted out through the door, silk scarf trailing behind her.

Olivia waited until she was alone. Then she snatched up the phone.

“Mr. Sloan's office.”

“Aunt Rose, it's me, Olivia. This is going to seem like a bizarre question, but I was wondering if you've ever noticed Melwood Gill wearing a hat since he had his skin cancer surgery?”

“A hat? Well, yes, of course. The surgery gave him quite a scare, you know. He told me that he's extremely careful these days. He never goes outside without first putting on sunscreen and a hat.”

“Have you ever actually
seen
him in a hat?”

“Heavens yes. He has a couple of those soft, crushable types in his office. You, know, the kind people sometimes wear on boats. I've noticed that he generally
puts one in his back pocket when he's getting ready to leave the building. Why do you ask?”

Olivia's mouth went dry. One step at a time here, she thought. Keep the logic straight. “I found a hat matching that description on my way out of Glow the other day. I remembered that Dad wears one a lot down in Tucson because of the sun. It crossed my mind that Melwood would have gotten the same advice and that the hat I found might belong to him.”

Weak, Olivia, very weak
.

Fortunately Rose did not appear to notice.

“I can ask him, if you like.”

“No
.” Olivia closed her eyes and forced herself to sound calm and casual. “No need to do that. I'll drop it off in the accounting department next time I'm in the building. Thanks, Aunt Rose.”

Olivia hung up the phone and sprawled back in her chair, thinking furiously. She was making too many wild assumptions. She was probably going off the deep end here. Jasper was already convinced that Gill was an embezzler. She definitely did not want to provide further ammunition to be used against Melwood unless she was absolutely certain that he was guilty.

There was one more thing she could easily check, she realized. If it was Melwood she had run down with the platform truck this morning then he would have been out of the office at the same time that she was at Pri-Con Self-Storage.

She picked up the phone and tapped out the number of the Glow accounting department. A crisp, precise voice answered on the other end of the line.

“Accounting. Barry Chantry here.”

“Cousin Barry? It's Olivia.”

“Hi, cuz. What's up?”

“Pretty busy here at Light Fantastic. Listen, I've got a quick question. This is going to seem a little weird, but I was wondering if you noticed if Melwood Gill was out of the office for a while this morning.”

“Gill? Yeah, I think he said something about having a doctor's appointment. Why?”

“Nothing.” Olivia forced herself to breathe. “I'm just a little worried about him, that's all. The transfer and all, you know.”

“Gill's always been a little on the tense side,” Barry said conversationally. “Got worse after that brush with skin cancer. But the transfer really agitated him.”

“Thanks, Barry. Give my love to Millie and the twins.”

“Will do. Say, anything to the gossip about you and Sloan?”

“You know better than to listen to gossip, Barry.”

“Sure would make things simpler.”

She did not like the fake innocence in his voice. “What would make things simpler?”

“If you and Sloan, uh, you know …”

“No, I don't know, Barry. If Sloan and I did what?”

“Got serious. And, like, maybe even got married.”

“Barry.”

“Well, you know, it would sorta fulfill Uncle Rollie's dream of keeping Glow a family-owned company.”

“Good-bye, Barry.” Olivia hung up before Barry could make further suggestions on the subject of keeping Glow in the family.

She sat for a while, thinking. After a few minutes she got up to prepare another infusion of caffeine.

There were a lot of questions that had to be answered before she made a move, she decided, as she spooned dark French roast coffee into the filter cone. The biggest one of all, assuming Melwood was the blackmailer, was how had he gotten hold of Rollie's files and what had he done with them?

She thought about the fire in her uncle's study. It had occurred only a day after news of Rollie's death had reached Seattle. Melwood Gill? He had been among the first to know that his employer was dead.

Icy adrenaline shot through her. Everyone said that poor Melwood was just not himself these days.

The phone rang again before she could finish her ruminations. She picked up the receiver.

“Light Fantastic. This is Olivia.”

“Hi, Olivia. Andy Andrews of
Hard Currency
here.”

“Andrews?” Olivia pulled herself out of the morbid maze of speculation that swirled in her brain. “You've got a lot of nerve calling me after that Foil Town crack in your newsletter.”

“Where's your sense of humor, Olivia?” Andy chuckled. “I thought you'd appreciate the mention.”

“I'm supposed to appreciate Foil Town? Give me a break.”

“Sorry,” Andy said casually. “Just trying to add a little punch to the article. But Foil Town, as we say in the business, is yesterday's news. I'm calling about tomorrow's.”

“Which is?” Olivia asked cautiously.

“Talk to me about what happened to Logan Dane's
paintings after his death, and I promise that when I do the piece on the Camelot Blue launch party I'll make it sound like the event was staged by Disney.”

Olivia tightened her hand around the phone. “I'll give you the same answer I give everyone else. When it comes to the subject of Logan Dane, I have absolutely no comment.”

“Is it true that you've got his pictures stored someplace and you're selling them off real slow so as not to flood the market and drive down the prices?”

“Good-bye, Andy.” Olivia tossed the phone back into the cradle.

She wondered if Crawford Lee Wilder's version of the legend of Logan Dane was going to haunt her for the rest of her life.

Jasper looked at Todd. “Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you came by the office to introduce yourself. I was just wondering if the reason you're here is because you're worried about the future of Glow, Inc., or because you're concerned about your sister?”

“What do you think?” Todd did not take the seat that Jasper had offered. He went to stand at the office window, instead. “Just because most of the Chantrys you've met so far seem more concerned about their jobs and their Glow pensions, doesn't mean everyone is.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” Jasper leaned back in his chair. “Makes a change.”

Todd shot him a quick, annoyed glance before turning back to the window. “It's not that they don't care about her, you know. It's just that they all think she can
take care of herself. They expect her to look after them, not vice-versa.”

“I got that impression,” Jasper said dryly.

“A lot of it is Uncle's Rollie's fault. He always said that she inherited his head for business.” Todd's jaw tightened. “He was right. But Olivia never wanted to take over Glow. She loves Light Fantastic.”

“It suits her.”

“Uncle Rollie knew that. But from the time she was little he drilled it into her that, after he was gone, she was supposed to make certain that Glow stayed in the family. It was a big burden to put on a kid's shoulders.”

“Have you considered the possibility that in the end he decided not to stick her with the full responsibility for Glow, after all?” Jasper asked quietly. “Maybe that's why he did the deal with me. Maybe it was a way of letting her off the hook.”

Todd's eyes narrowed. “That doesn't make any sense. Uncle Rollie intended to pay off the financing you arranged for him. He never intended for you to inherit half of Glow.”

“Fifty-one percent,” Jasper corrected softly. “And bear in mind, Rollie was eighty-three years old. Who knows what he intended? I can tell you one thing, though.”

“What's that?”

“Rollie was in no hurry to get out from under the loan I made him. By the terms of our contract, the first payments on the principal were not even scheduled to begin for another two years. All the payments he made before he died were interest only.”

“Why did you agree to that?”

Jasper shrugged. “Felt like it. I've always had a good sense of timing when it comes to business.”

“Your timing was pretty damn good in this case, wasn't it?” Todd watched him warily. “You wound up owning half of a company that's set to make a lot of money in the years ahead.”

“Fifty-one percent,” Jasper said. “I own a little more than half of the company. Why do I have to keep reminding everyone?”

At seven that evening Jasper walked into the Light Fantastic studio with a pile of take-out boxes in his hands.

Bolivar intercepted him within ten feet of the door.

“Please tell me there's a pizza in one of those boxes,” he said.

“Bottom container. Help yourself.”

Bernie and Matty loomed in his path. Both gazed at the stack in his arms with longing eyes. He handed them each a take-out box. “Focaccia sandwiches.”

“Great.” Bernie tore into his container with relish.

“Mr. Sloan.” Zara gave him her Sybil smile. “How lovely to see you this evening. I don't suppose—?”

“Phad Thai. Medium spicy.”

“One of my favorites,” she murmured, relieving him of another box.

By the time he walked through the door of Olivia's office, he was down to one box of chilled buckwheat noodles with sea vegetables, wasabi, and dipping sauce.

She peered at him through her designer glasses as he cleared a place on the corner of her desk. He put down the box and raised the lid.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as he placed two packets of chopsticks and some napkins on the desk.

“Feeding you. Have you noticed that I do that a lot these days?”

“Why?”

“It's dinnertime.”

She glanced at her watch and frowned. “Good grief. I didn't realize. We've been swamped getting ready for tomorrow night. I'd better tell the others to take a break.”

“They are on break even as we speak.” He pulled up a chair.

“Oh.” she examined the contents of the box with deep interest. “What have you got there?”

“Noodles and seaweed.” He handed her a set of chopsticks.

“Thanks.” She put down the papers she had been working on and dug in with the chopsticks. “Where have you been all afternoon?”

“Long story.” He picked up his own chopsticks. “We need to talk.”

“So talk,” she said around a mouthful of noodles dipped in sauce and hot green wasabi paste. “Did you have any luck with the Pri-Con Self-Storage attendant?”

“Silas was very informative in his own way.” Jasper dipped some of the noodles into the tamari-laced sauce. “He said there have been no move-outs from the fourth floor in at least two months. And he was pretty adamant about the fact that no one could have removed the entire contents of a locker without his knowing about it.”