Sweet Fortune (28 page)

Jessie finally took a hand. “Tell her you stumbled over the other program while looking for this one and that you were curious about the projects the foundation is financing.”

“And tell her,” Hatch added swiftly, “that the money doesn't look like it's going into normal research-and-development costs. See if she's had any concerns about those transactions.”

Jessie whipped around in her chair to stare at Hatch in astonishment. “You never said anything about the R-and-D stuff looking strange.”

He shrugged again. “I'm not sure what is happening. I just know it isn't a normal R-and-D spread sheet.”

“You could have said something.”

“I'd already told you the whole thing was probably some sort of scam. This is nothing new. I'm just fine-tuning my theories now.”

Alex broke in quickly. “If you two would stop squabbling, we might get some more answers from Susan. Okay, Hatch, you want me to ask directly about offshore accounts?”

“Something tells me we should be a little more subtle than that,” Jessie muttered, still annoyed.

“Jessie's right. Just ask her why the financial-management program doesn't look right and see what she says.”

Alex obediently typed in the question. There was a long pause before the answer came back on the top half of the screen:

Who are you, Green? Please tell me
.

“She's getting nervous,” Jessie said. “I think it's time to tell her the whole truth.”

“I agree,” Alex said.

“You're liable to scare her off completely if you do,” Hatch warned.

Jessie shook her head, staring intently at the screen. Her intuition was guiding her now. “No. She's already scared. And not because of us. Let's find out what's really going on here. Alex, ask her if she feels safe working for DEL.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes. Hurry.” Jessie was feeling a sense of urgency. She leaned forward to peer over Alex's shoulder.

“All right, go ahead,” Hatch said slowly, after giving Jessie a speculative glance. “Start the question with her first name.”

Susan, are you safe where you are
?

Jessie held her breath and realized that Alex was doing the same thing as they waited for a response. Only Hatch still looked calm.

I'm not sure. I'm getting scared, Green. Please tell me who you are
.

“Tell her,” Jessie said, “that we've been looking for her and if she wants to leave DEL, we'll help her. Tell her that her mother is very worried.”

“Tell her that her mother is also scared,” Hatch put in thoughtfully. “That should do it.”

Jessie nodded. “Good idea. Susan may not know that Mrs. Attwood has been threatened.”

“Has she?” Alex asked, surprised.

Jessie nodded grimly. “Yes, I'm sure of it.”

The response from Susan came immediately.
Is my mother all right? Have been told I may not contact her until after my training period is finished
.

“Tell her that Mrs. Attwood will not talk to me about the problem. Tell her I'm very worried about her,” Jessie said.

Alex started to type in the words, but before he could get halfway through the sentence, Susan started typing something of her own.

Clear screen. Someone coming
.

In a stroke Alex wiped everything off his own screen and sat back in his chair with a low groan of frustration. “She's in trouble.”

“Looks like it,” Hatch agreed quietly. “But we don't have any idea of how much trouble. She might just be getting nervous. Wants to come home. Afraid to admit she's made a mistake.”

“I think,” Jessie said slowly, “that it's more serious than that. I think she's in real danger.”

Hatch and Alex looked at her.

“How do you know that?” Hatch finally asked.

Jessie shook her head, helpless to explain the sense of urgency that was growing stronger by the minute. “Just a feeling I've got.” She jumped to her feet. “I'm going to go see Mrs. Valentine. With any luck, she'll have recovered some of her ability. Maybe she can tell me if I'm right in thinking Susan's in trouble.”

“Jessie, it's midnight,” Hatch pointed out.

“Mrs. V will understand. Do you want to come with me, Hatch?”

“I don't think I've got much choice,” he muttered, standing up reluctantly.

“I'll keep an eye on things here,” Alex said. “I won't attempt to contact Susan. I'll just monitor the screen in case she decides to try to find me again. If she puts out a query, I'll respond.”

Jessie glanced back once from the door. Alex was sitting in front of his screen, gazing into the green glow with worried eyes.

There was another screen glowing in the living room of Mrs. Valentine's sister. A television screen.

Mrs. Valentine, wearing an old robe and slippers, answered the doorbell on the first chime. “Oh, there you are, Jessie, dear. Come in. I've been expecting you. Hello, Mr. Hatchard. So nice to see you again.”

“Hello, Mrs. Valentine,” Hatch said. “Sorry about the late-night visit.”

“Don't worry about it. As I said, I was expecting you.”

Jessie threw her arms around her boss and hugged her tightly. “You were expecting us? Mrs. V, does that mean you've recovered your psychic abilities?”

“What little ability I had seems to have begun returning,” Mrs. Valentine said modestly. “Won't you sit down? My sister has already gone to bed. I was just watching TV until you arrived.”

“This is wonderful, Mrs. V.” Jessie sat down on the old sofa. “Isn't it, Hatch?”

“It's interesting,” Hatch said coolly.

“Don't mind him, Mrs. V. He's a born skeptic. Now, let me tell you why I'm here at this hour.”

“Something to do with Susan Attwood, I imagine.” Mrs. Valentine looked resigned.

“Mrs. V, you
are
getting back your powers. This is wonderful.”

“Simple deduction, I'm afraid.” Mrs. Valentine smiled. “I couldn't imagine anything else that would have you so agitated. Better tell me everything.”

“Right.”

Jessie plunged into a full account, including the fact that Alex Robin had managed to contact Susan. Hatch added a few desultory comments on the probability of a scam being run by the Dawn's Early Light Foundation.

“We're starting to get very concerned about Susan's safety, Mrs. V,” Jessie concluded a few minutes later. “I wanted to consult with you before we did anything else.”

Mrs. V gazed at the television screen for a long while. Then she turned her head to meet Jessie's anxious eyes. “I think, my dear, that you are right to be concerned about poor Susan.”

“I was afraid of that. We've got to do something.”

“Perhaps you should call the police,” Mrs. Valentine suggested. “This sort of thing should be turned over to them, don't you think?”

“Good idea,” Hatch agreed.

“I'm not so sure,” Jessie said slowly. “For one thing, we don't have any real evidence that she's in danger. Susan hasn't exactly asked for rescue. I think we should ask her what she wants us to do.” She stood up abruptly. “Come on, Hatch. Let's go. No point keeping Mrs. V up any later. She's confirmed my worst fears.”

“I do wish you would turn this over to the proper authorities, dear.” Mrs. Valentine looked anxious.

“That's just it, Mrs. V, there are no proper authorities. Not yet, at any rate. We don't have any proof of a crime or even any evidence of danger to Susan. Don't worry, we can handle this,” Jessie assured her.

“Oh, my goodness.” Mrs. Valentine trailed after them to the door. She frowned as Jessie walked out onto the old-fashioned porch. “Jessie, dear…”

“Yes, Mrs. V?”

“You will be careful, whatever you do, won't you?”

“Of course. But it's Susan Attwood who's in danger, not me.”

“I'm not so sure about that.” Mrs. Valentine glanced at Hatch. “You'll take care of her, won't you.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes,” Hatch said quietly. “I'll take care of her.”

Mrs. Valentine looked somewhat relieved. “Oh, well, then, perhaps it will all be okay. But I'm really not certain I like this new aspect of our business. Not certain at all.”

“I don't blame you, Mrs. Valentine,” Hatch said. “Any way you slice it, there's no doubt but that Valentine Consultations is headed in new directions.”

“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Valentine.

Jessie dialed Alex's number just before she climbed into bed. It was answered on the first ring.

“Heard anything more from her, Alex?”

“No. I think she's lying low.”

“When's her next shift on the computer?”

“Tomorrow night. If she maintains her present schedule.”

“Maybe she'll talk to us then,” Jessie said.

“Unless they've gotten so suspicious they've removed her from the job,” Alex said glumly.

Jessie put down the phone and turned to look at Hatch, who was lying back against the pillows, his hands behind his head. He was naked to the waist and the covers were bunched around his hips, exposing the broad, smoothly muscled expanse of his chest.

“I'm really worried, Hatch.”

“I know you are.” He gave her a small wry smile. “Come to bed and get some sleep. There's nothing more you can do tonight.”

Jessie went over to the bed and crawled in beside him. The heat of his body enveloped her as he pulled her close.

“Hatch?”

“Uh-huh?”

“I'm glad you're helping me out on this case. I get the feeling I'm in a little over my head.”

“You think you're in over your head now? Just wait until this is all over and I bill you for my services.”

“Hatch, are you serious?”

“I'm always serious.”

At one o'clock the next afternoon, Hatch grabbed his jacket and started for the door of his office.

“I'll be out for the next couple of hours,” he said to his secretary as he went past her desk.

“Yes, Mr. Hatchard.”

Twenty-five minutes later Hatch was waiting outside a classroom at Butterfield College. David Ringstead sauntered out of the room behind fifteen other students. He looked startled to see Hatch.

“What are you doing here?” David demanded. Then he frowned in sudden alarm. “Is anything wrong? Is Mom all right?”

“Nothing's wrong. I wanted to talk to you and I figured this would be the easiest way to do it. Can we go someplace where we can get a cup of coffee?”

“Why?”

“I told you. I want to talk to you.”

David shrugged. “All right. There's an espresso bar across the street.”

“Fine.”

“Mind telling me what this is all about?”

“It's about money,” Hatch said easily.

“Shit.” David shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “You're here to tell me the old bastard won't finance grad school, right? Why you? Why didn't Jessie come?”

“That's a lot of conclusions to jump to without knowing any facts. But I guess that's what philosophers are trained to do, isn't it? No wonder they have a hard time finding jobs outside the academic world.”

“Shit.”

Hatch sighed as he pushed open the door of the espresso bar. “Look on the bright side. I'm buying.”

A pale, lanky-haired young woman behind the counter smiled wanly at David.

“Hi, David. How's it going?” she asked.

“Fine. You?”

“Okay, I guess. What will you have?”

“Latte,” said David.

She turned in mute question to Hatch.

“Coffee,” Hatch said. “Plain coffee.”

They stood in silence while the young woman went to work at the gleaming espresso machine. When she handed them their cups, Hatch led the way to a corner table in the nearly empty café.

“Friend of yours?” Hatch asked idly, nodding faintly toward the wiry woman who was now busy cleaning up around the machine. Her washed-out blond hair swung forward, shielding her bad complexion.

“Not exactly. Met her when I was asking around for information on DEL.”

Hatch slid the young woman a second glance. “That's Nadine Willard?”

“Yeah.” David sipped the foam off his latte. “Now, suppose you stop messing with my head and just tell me what all this is about.”

“No problem. It's real simple, David. I don't want you pressuring Jessie to go to her father for money for grad school. Got that?”

David scowled. “What is it with you, anyway? What do you care about something that's just between Jessie and me?”

“I want Jessie out of the loop.”

“The loop?”

“Right. The loop. From now on, anyone who wants something from Vincent Benedict can go and ask for it himself, directly. You don't use Jessie anymore.”

David's expression tightened into a sullen frown. He sat back and stuck his legs out under the small table. “Jessie's never minded handling the old bastard for the rest of us.”

“I mind.”

“No offense, but who the fuck cares if you mind?”

Hatch took a taste of his coffee. “Put it this way, David. If you try to use Jessie to run interference for you, I will personally squelch any possibility you might have of getting money out of Vincent Benedict. Believe me, I can do it. Benedict and I think alike. I know just how to convince him that you shouldn't be given one more dime for your education.”

“You're a real son of a bitch, aren't you?”

“I can be,” Hatch agreed.

“Mom said she was afraid something like this would happen.”

“Something like what?” Hatch eyed him curiously.

David lifted one shoulder in resignation. “That things would change. She said the old bastard was going to try to create a son for himself by getting one to marry into the family. She said if he succeeded, we'd all lose in the end. Looks like this is the start of it.”

“You seem to be missing the point here, David. I did not say you couldn't try to talk Benedict into anything you want. Just don't use Jessie to do it for you.”

“She's the only one who can deal with him. Everybody knows that.”

“Have you ever tried dealing with him yourself?”

“Shit, yes.” David slammed his half-finished cup down on the table. He turned fierce eyes on Hatch. “You think I haven't tried to please the old man? Hell, I spent most of my life trying to be the son everyone said he wanted. Ever since I was a little kid, I tried to be a macho, hard-charging type for his sake.”