Flash (36 page)

“The good news is that Glow and Light Fantastic got some great publicity out of this thing.” Bolivar opened the newspaper and spread it out across the Café Mantra lunch counter. “But the Lancaster people will be doing some very heavy spin work for a while. Wait'll you see the headlines.”

Olivia leaned over his shoulder to look. Zara, perched on a stool beside him, did the same.

L
ANCASTER
C
AMPAIGN
R
EELING
FROM
A
RREST OF
M
ANAGER

Dixon Haggard, manager of gubernatorial hopeful Eleanor Lancaster's political campaign, was arrested
yesterday and booked on charges of murder and attempted murder.

Jasper Sloan, CEO of Glow, Inc., and Olivia Chantry, proprietor of Light Fantastic, a Seattle event design and production firm, were instrumental in apprehending Haggard. “We were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Mr. Sloan said. “But we got lucky.”

Sloan and Chantry, who share ownership of Glow, Inc., had gone to a south-end self-storage facility to retrieve some documents from lockers rented by the former head of Glow, Roland Chantry, and Melwood Gill, a Glow employee. Both men are recently deceased.

While at the facility, Sloan and Ms. Chantry were surprised by Haggard, who had followed them to the facility.

Police say Haggard believed that Gill had been blackmailing him with information stolen from the files of Roland Chantry. After allegedly murdering Gill in a hit-and-run incident, Haggard conducted a search for the information that Gill had allegedly used in his extortion efforts.

Haggard allegedly followed Gill's employers to the storage facility, assuming that they would lead him to the information stored in Roland Chantry's private files.

“We had reason to believe that Gill had taken some files from Mr. Chantry's locker and stored them in his own locker,” Sloan explained. “We were looking into the situation when Dixon Haggard arrived and threatened to kill us.”

Police state that Haggard has confessed not only to the murder of Melwood Gill, but to the killing six years ago of Richard Lancaster. The effect on the Lancaster campaign is difficult to predict.

Todd Chantry, a spokesperson for the campaign, issued a statement saying that Lancaster is stunned by the news that she had unwittingly hired her husband's alleged killer.

“We believe Haggard may have been a kind of stalker,” Chantry said. “He apparently developed a sick obsession with Ms. Lancaster and—”

“Whew.” Bolivar shook his head. “Todd's good, but I'm not sure anyone is good enough to pull Lancaster's bacon out of the fire this time.”

“But Eleanor Lancaster is just an innocent victim,” Zara protested. “Surely the public will understand. She's in the same terrible situation Sybil was in when she hired Burt, the gardener, never knowing that he was a stalker. She can't help it if some sicko murdered her husband and then insinuated himself into her campaign so that he could be near her.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “The woman hired her husband's murderer. Don't you see the problem here? It makes Lancaster look something other than brilliant, to say the least. At best, she comes across as a naïve victim.”

“Not exactly leadership material,” Bolivar concluded. He opened the second section of the paper. “Maybe if this had happened earlier in the campaign she could have put it behind her before the primary. But now? Who knows.”

“You can bet that the Stryker people are going to have a field day,” Olivia said.

Bolivar looked up. “What about the fund-raiser?”

Olivia shrugged. “No one has called me yet to cancel it. The only thing we can do is keep going forward with the preparations until we get word to the contrary.”

“We're scheduled to hang the flag this afternoon,” Bolivar reminded her.

Olivia thought about it. “I'll give Todd a call and see if he thinks there's likely to be a last-minute cancellation. If not, we'll keep to our schedule.”

Zara pursed her lips. “Seems to me Eleanor Lancaster will need a fund-raiser and a big rally more than ever now.”

“Good point,” Bolivar said. “Everyone says she's a fighter. If she's determined to overcome this, she'll want to go ahead with a big, splashy show.”

“So it's business as usual, folks.” Olivia spun around on her stool and got to her feet. “Let's get to work.”

Bolivar refolded the paper. “I'll get the flag ready to take down to the pier. Matty and Bernie can help me.”

“Thanks.” Olivia looked at her aunt. “Zara, I need to discuss something with you.”

Zara gave her a conspiratorial look that was laced with just a touch of melodramatic dread. “Of course, dear.”

They all trooped upstairs together. Olivia led Zara into the office and closed the door.

“Melwood Gill was your blackmailer, Aunt Zara.”

“Melwood?”
Zara stared at her, dumbfounded. “But that's not possible. How could he have known about those films I made?”

“He knew about them because Uncle Rollie knew about them.” Olivia went around behind her desk and sat down. A rush of sympathy went through her. Poor Zara. Bad enough to be the victim of blackmail. To have the extortionist turn out to be someone as unexciting as Melwood Gill was adding insult to injury.

“Rollie knew about my past?” Zara frowned. “But he never said anything.”

“That's because it didn't matter to him,” Olivia assured her. “Unfortunately he kept the information in a file. After he was killed, Melwood went through Uncle Rollie's personal records. He found the folder on you when he discovered the one on Dixon Haggard.”

“Good lord.” Zara absorbed that information. “So it wasn't one of my old rivals?”

“I'm afraid not. I destroyed the file last night.”

“I see.” Zara paused. “You destroyed the entire file?”

“It wasn't very big.” Olivia recalled the short document she had fed to the flames. “Only a couple of pages.”

“No, uh, photos?”

“Nope.”

“I see.”

“It's all gone, Aunt Zara. Just as though it had never existed.”

Zara sighed dolefully. “Very kind of you, dear.”

“There is nothing to worry about now.”

“Wonderful,” Zara said sadly. She raised her chin so that the light from the desk lamp accented her cheekbones the way it had the day Sybil had decided she
would survive Nick's infidelity. “I will be forever grateful.”

Olivia groped for some way to cheer her up. “Of course, there are probably a few copies of your early films still floating around somewhere in the old files of the studio that made them.”

Zara brightened. “Yes, that's true, isn't it?”

“One never knows when one of them might fall into the wrong hands.”

“My God, you're right.” Zara rose to her feet, her hand on her breast. “I shall never be entirely free of the threat of exposure.”

“Probably not.”

“I will live the rest of my days with a sword of Damocles hanging over my head.”

“Yep.” Olivia smiled. “But life must go on. And so must business. Can you finish the sketches for the Simmons-Cameron charity auction for me by three?”

“I'll get right on it.” Zara opened the door and wafted happily out of the office.

“You saved her life.” Todd shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He studied the cloudy sky outside the office window as if he saw arcane runes there. “I don't know what to say, except thank you.”

“It was my fault that she was in danger.” Jasper lounged back in his chair and contemplated Todd's intent, serious profile. “You don't thank someone for screwing up the way I did.”

Todd glanced over his shoulder. Sunlight glinted on the rims of his glasses. “Too bad folks like you don't run for public office. What this country needs is more
people in leadership positions who will take responsibility for their actions.”

“I'm happy here at Glow, thanks. I'd never make it as a politician.”

“Why not?”

Jasper shrugged. “Politics is all about compromise. I'm not good at compromise.”

Todd gave him a knowing look. “You like to be in charge, is that it?”

“Yeah. Speaking of politicians, how are things at Lancaster campaign headquarters?”

Small, troubled furrows appeared on Todd's intelligent forehead. “Dicey, to say the least. This morning's polls were not good. People feel sympathy for Eleanor, but they've lost respect for her judgment.”

“Any way you cut it, she's a politician who ran for office on the money she inherited after her husband was killed by one of her most trusted campaign aides.”

“Unfortunately, that's the way the public sees it.” Todd frowned. “We're off-message while we try to explain things to the media. It's too late in the campaign to be off-message. Still, with a little luck, we may survive the primary. If that happens, we'll have several weeks to regain our position before the election.”

“Good luck. The public has a short attention span. You've got that much in your favor.”

Todd grimaced. “True.”

“Still planning to get out of active politics when this election is over?”

“Definitely. I'm only staying on with the Lancaster campaign because I feel I owe Eleanor that much. I
can't abandon her at this juncture. After all, if it hadn't been for her, I might never have had an opportunity to see some of my theories and policy ideas launched in the real world.”

“I understand.”

“Whatever happens to Eleanor and her campaign, I think some of my ideas will stick. Other candidates are already picking up some of them. The newspaper columnists debate them on a regular basis these days. That's how change happens in politics.”

Jasper smiled briefly. “You've had an impact. Not many people can say that.”

Todd turned fully around to face him. “You've had an impact, too. On my sister.”

Jasper said nothing.

“You know,” Todd said slowly, “Eleanor told me that she believes she and Olivia are a lot alike. I think she sees my sister as a sort of kindred spirit. A reflection of herself in some ways. Two strong, independent women who have carved out their own destinies.”

“I won't argue with the destiny bit, but I think the rest of her assumption is garbage. Eleanor Lancaster and Olivia are very different in one essential respect.”

“You're right,” Todd said. “When push comes to shove, Eleanor will sacrifice everything for her future in politics. She truly believes the country needs her.”

“Whereas Olivia would sacrifice anything for her family.”

Todd shot him a considering look. “You know her very well, already, don't you?”

Jasper shrugged. “We have some things in common.”

Todd's gaze did not waver. “I want to know what happens next between the two of you.”

“Are you, by any chance, asking me if my intentions are honorable?”

Todd thought about it. “Yes. I guess that's what I want to know.”

“Why don't you ask Olivia that question?” Jasper suggested quietly. “She's an equal partner in this thing.”

“She's not an equal partner in Glow.” Todd watched him steadily. “But Uncle Rollie dumped the responsibility for protecting the company and the people who work here on her shoulders.”

“What are you afraid of? That she'll do something over-the-top like marry me because she thinks she can protect Glow and her Chantry relatives that way?”

Small brackets appeared on either side of Todd's mouth. “That's a little blunt, but yes, that's exactly what I'm afraid she might do. Olivia deserves better than that. I don't want her to feel that she has to marry you in order to fulfill her responsibilities to the family.”

Jasper felt the icy, empty sensation coalesce inside him. “The subject of marriage has not come up. But if it does, I can tell you this much, Chantry. I'd rather Olivia didn't marry me for that particular reason, either.”

Todd hesitated. Then he nodded once. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the office.

Jasper waited until the door had closed behind him before he got slowly to his feet.

He walked to the window and looked out at the summer storm that was sweeping in across Elliott Bay. It looked like one of Logan Dane's paintings.

What did he want? he wondered.

The answer was etched in the lightning that flashed in the distance. He had not been entirely honest with Todd. It was true that he would rather Olivia did not marry him because she thought she could control the fate of Glow that way.

But the bottom line was that he wanted Olivia. Any way he could get her.

He was in very dangerous territory without a map.

Olivia did not get an opportunity to glance at the special edition of
Hard Currency
until nearly noon. When she finished reading it, she slapped it down on her desk and snatched up the telephone. Seething, she dialed the number on the bottom of the newsletter.

“Andy Andrews here.”

Olivia drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. “Where do you get off calling my Camelot Blue event a glow-in-the-dark arcade game?”

“Come on, Olivia, where's your sense of humor?”

“You ask me that after the way you stabbed me in the back?”

“Readers remember the name of your firm better when it's in a humorous context,” Andy assured her.

“You've got absolutely no scientific proof of that.” Olivia scanned the article a second time. “And what's this stuff at the end about Seattle's own Mr. and Ms. Sleuth?”

“You can't blame me for working that into the piece. After all, you and Sloan were all over the front page because you nearly got yourselves murdered in that storage facility.”

“You're on thin ice here, Andy.”