The Cyclops Conspiracy (12 page)

“No, no, please,” she said, motioning for him to proceed. “Please, tell me your thoughts.”

Heads turned, hanging on his response. He hesitated.

“So,” she said, sensing his trepidation. “What did you think?”

Jason gently rotated his wine glass. “Well, since you asked, Ms. Lily, I think all three of the sites—quite frankly—are completely and utterly inappropriate.”

A barely audible but collective gasp escaped from the guests. The air seemed to be sucked out from under the gazebo.

“Why?”

“You already know my thoughts on the matter.”

She nodded. “Please share them with the rest of group.”

“Because it’s the east end. It’s a bad place to begin.” Blood rushed to his face.

Christine’s hand squeezed his under the table. “Easy,” she whispered.

At the same time, Jasmine Kader slipped her palm onto his thigh, a smile lining her face. Jason glanced her way, gently removed it, and sat rock still. Zanns, Christine, and Jasmine had him surrounded.

“And I suppose you have other locations you think would be more suitable.” The other guests had turned to watch their exchange.

“I can come up with some. I believe they will be better choices. Yes.”

“Very well,” Lily relented. “Bring me your suggestions by the end of the day tomorrow.”

“You shall have them,” he replied.

“I am curious to see what you come up with,” said Zanns. Then, as if nothing had happened, Lily looked to the headwaiter and clapped her hands again. On cue, a peach-and-raspberry crisp was laid before the diners with a flourish. With the showdown over, attention turned to the elegant, calorie-packed creation. Pockets of conversation resumed, and the tension slowly passed.

“That bitch,” Jason whispered under his breath. He glanced at her. Lily had turned to the person sitting beside her, oblivious to the stir their interaction had caused. Or, perhaps, reveling in it? Jason sensed her words were some sort of warning.

“Easy, cowboy,” said Christine. “You handled her fine.”

“I’ve known Lily Zanns for a long time,” Jasmine interjected. “Get used to it. She doesn’t care for timid people.” Jasmine squeezed
Jason’s elbow so Christine couldn’t see it. “And I bet you’re not timid, are you?” she whispered.

* * *

Later in the study, Zanns said, “Please close the door.” Her lips curved into a smile. “Would you like a cigar? I have some Rey Del Mundos in the humidor on the table.”

Jason gazed at her with contempt. He was still reeling from their public confrontation. Reluctantly, he closed the door and faced his boss.

With dessert finished, Lily had invited the revelers to dance. At the first opportunity, she’d located Jason and instructed him to follow her into the mansion. The trio of musicians played a spirited number and a smattering of guests had filled the temporary dance floor. The scene, visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows, served as a backdrop for their conversation.

“No, thank you,” Jason said stiffly.

“You did not like being questioned in front of my guests?”

“You’re damn right, I didn’t!”

“I tested you. Unwavering resolve in my employees is a canon for success. I expect it in all my employees. The question of the day is, are you up to the challenge of running my organization. You passed, quite successfully.”

“I have resolve, Ms. Zanns. But this was supposed to be a pleasant, relaxing evening.”

The phone on her desk buzzed. She picked it up and listened. “Fine, I’ll be right there.” She replaced the handset. “The mayor wishes to discuss my plans for the expansion. He might be of assistance in securing property. Please wait here.”

When he was alone, he scanned the room. Dark mahogany, fine leather upholstery. The chair and desk alone probably cost more than his yearly salary. He opened the large, oak humidor on a wall table,
removed a thick, black Cuban cigar, and slid it in his breast pocket.
I’ve earned it
, he thought.

Framed aerial photographs of the shipyard were mounted on the wall above the humidor. One was of a partially constructed aircraft carrier in the dry dock. It was a bright, sunny day. The large numerals on the island were identical to those on the ship he’d photographed today. Eighty-one. It was the
Hope
. By the state of construction, the photo had to have been taken months, if not years, earlier. Among the framed photos, a large, wide panel with assorted lights and switches was embedded in the wall, blinking at him like a console from a nuclear submarine.

“Sorry for the interruption,” Lily said, returning. She noticed him inspecting the panel. “It’s my security system,” she said.

Jason turned without speaking.

“It’s state of the art. Motion and contact sensors in the house, as well as ground and laser sensors ring the property. We have every inch covered.”

“Overkill, don’t you think?”

“When you become as successful as I am, enemies are inevitable.”

“I see,” he said.

“Where were we?”

“Discussing my resolve.”

“Yes, of course. You handled yourself quite admirably,” she explained.

“I’m touched.”

“I’ll grant you that little bit of sarcasm.”

“I have two questions for you, Ms. Lily.”

“
Bien sûr.
”

“First, why did you have me take photographs of the shipyard if you already have some? Pictures, I might add, that are much better than I could have ever taken.”

Lily ignored the question. “By the way, how did that go?”

“Not well,” he replied. “Why didn’t you tell me photographing the shipyard is illegal? They thought I was a spy!”

“My new vice-president, a spy? I had no idea,” Zanns chortled. “Were you mistreated?”

“No, I believe the matter’s closed.”

“I’m sorry you were hassled. I have a great admiration for this country, more than the majority of those born on this soil. A person can make himself into anything he desires, if he works. The aircraft carrier is the symbol and the protector of that doctrine.”

“The memory chip of the camera was confiscated,” Jason said, refusing to be sidetracked. “All the photos are in the possession of the Secret Service now. I was lucky to keep the camera equipment.”

She said, “Keep the camera. You’ll need it. I have reconsidered my position. Bring me other location options within the next week. What is your second question?”

“I thought the expansion of the Colonial was a secret,” Jason said. “Why were you discussing it out there? I’m just curious.”

Zanns’s mood flipped like a manic-depressive who’d forgotten to take her lithium. “I will discuss my plans when and where I choose. Is that clear? You work for me. Do not question my motives again. My patience and good graces only go so far!”

Then she softened, and picked a piece of lint from Jason’s sport coat. “You mentioned being curious. Curiosity. I don’t find myself using that word often. In life it can be a valuable asset. But it can also get one in a lot of trouble,
n’est-ce pas
? You are a curious person, aren’t you, Monsieur Jason?”

“No more than the next person,” he replied.

Zanns pushed out her lower lip. “That’s not what I hear. Too much curiosity can be dangerous.”

“How so?” asked Jason.

“Sometimes you have to accept things at face value. Too much digging leads to unwanted consequences.”

Jason felt as if a veiled threat was being leveled at him. He wanted to say something, but was too shocked to respond. Then Zanns put her arm around his shoulder and led him back to the party. Her tone
had changed from a lecturing executive’s to that of a doting matriarch. “But to indulge you just this once, it was time that the mayor and his people were made aware of our plans. Before I spoke to you at dinner, I was bringing the mayor up to speed. Now, enough talk about business. Let us enjoy the rest of the evening.”

He let the secrecy issue drop, though the inconsistency baffled him. It was her show. She could talk or not talk about it whenever she chose.
Forget about it
, he thought. She had caved, after all, on the east end locations. He smiled inwardly and felt the cigar in his pocket.

“Did you make the offer to Mr. Parks?” asked Zanns.

Jason nodded. “Yes. He was very pleased with the twenty-thousand-dollar raise. I’ll get him to start in a day or two. Lily, how do you expect to make a profit, throwing your money around? Besides the cost of medications, pharmacist salaries are one of the costliest items on the balance sheet.”

“You let me worry about that,” she replied.

* * *

“I want to dance,” Christine announced, grabbing Jason’s hand and leading him onto the dance floor.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked as they swayed to a slow beat.

Christine shrugged. “I wouldn’t write home about it.”

“Well, I’ll have to try harder.”

After a few measures, Christine couldn’t resist asking a question that nagged at her. “Do you like her?”

“Who?”

“Dr. I’m-Not-Wearing-Any-Underwear. She’s been eyeing you all night.”

“Really? I haven’t noticed anyone but you tonight, Chrissie.”

Christine smacked him on the shoulder. “Nice try, Romeo. That vixen is all over you.”

His smile widened. “You’re jealous!”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Christine intoned. “You mean to tell me you can’t see through her advances? She’s been on you like flies on a pile of dung.”

“That’s an appetizing thought. Are you comparing me to a pile of dung?”

“Just dance.”

“We
are
dancing. Besides, she’s just trying to be friendly.”

“With friends like her…”

“Just remember, she’s coming on to me, not the other way around. I didn’t plan it.”

“Oh, so you admit that she’s coming on to you.”

“Okay, okay. I admit it.”

Christine smiled. “Good. Now enjoy the dance.”

When the song was over, he grabbed two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and led her down the sloped lawn toward the pier and boathouse, passing Jasmine along the way.

“Make sure you save me a dance,” the doctor said. Christine shot her a withering glance.

The dim light of the single lamp on the pier glistened off the water. In the distance, Zanns’s boat and plane bobbed gently on the water. They climbed into the small launch.
Retribution
was scrawled across the transom.

* * *

Lily joined Jasmine where the patio met the thick lawn, observing Jason and Christine. “Have you made any progress with him?” asked Zanns.

Jasmine shook her head. “The woman is getting in the way. There’s history there.”

Zanns nodded. “They were lovers many years ago.” Lily looked at her illegitimate daughter. “Allow them their time tonight. Get him
alone tomorrow. Use whatever you have at your disposal, but be quick about it. In a week, we will have accomplished our mission and your father will be avenged. Nothing will get in the way.”

“Perhaps Sam is right. Maybe you shouldn’t have hired him.”

Zanns sighed. “Everything is under control. Fear not, daughter. I know how to break up this little romance.”

“You’re still not over her, are you?” Christine asked. She wasn’t referring to Jasmine Kader.

“Who?” he replied, feigning ignorance.

“You know who. Sheila. How long ago did it end?”

Sheila Boquist was another failed relationship in a short, painful string following Jason’s divorce from Jenny four years ago. Jason had admitted to himself years ago that, compared with his relationship with the woman sitting beside him now, every other woman he’d ever been involved with did not measure up, including Michael’s mother.

“It ended two weeks ago. What gave it away?”

“We’ve both lived here our whole lives, Jason. The area is not
that
big. Word gets around. Did you love her?”

“No.”

The water glowed silver with moonlight. A breeze gently moved Christine’s hair and a shiver spread over her. Jason placed his arm around her, expecting to be rebuffed. Christine tensed but didn’t try to move away.

Christine waited for Jason to offer more. There was only silence. She gazed at the huge yacht, floating a hundred and fifty yards away. “What is it with you guys?”

“What?”

“Why is it so hard for you to talk about your feelings?”

“You’re not going to start analyzing me, are you?”

“I’ll analyze if I want to,” she said.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” she retorted.

“Was there someone in your life?”

“Why do you say ‘was’?”

“Because if it was an ‘is,’ you wouldn’t have come tonight. At least, not with me.”

Christine shrugged, conceding the point. “It ended about three months ago.”

“How serious was it?”

“We were engaged.”

“I’d say that qualifies as serious.”

“We dated for two years. And he’s a good guy, but we just weren’t right for each other. If I’d married him, I would’ve regretted it in five or six years. So I ended it.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Incredibly. But it was the right thing.” Christine faced him, locking eyes.

“Sometimes doing the right thing hurts,” he replied.

“Tell me about Sheila.”

“She wasn’t what she seemed to be. I didn’t like her very much after the veil was pulled away.”

“How long?”

“We dated for about ten months. The part that really gets to me is the way she treated Michael, my son. It was almost as if she was jealous of him. I never met anyone so selfish.”

“Did she physically abuse him?”

“No, she just made his life—and mine—very uncomfortable.”

“Kids are resilient. He’ll forget about her soon enough. So what are you looking for now?”

He smirked. “Some cheap, meaningless sex.”

“You can get that from Dr. Hussy up there.”

Jason smiled. “I was just joking. I’m not interested in Jasmine. I don’t need the complication right now. That’s the word that sums up what I need—uncomplicated.”

“Uncomplicated sounds good.” She slipped her hand into his. “It’s easier to talk when things aren’t complicated by emotion. And we still have some talking to do.”