Jury Town (22 page)

“I can think of one opportunity in particular. But I’d have to know there would be reciprocity.”

Mitch had considered asking Salvatore to go after Sofia, but she was insulated now—there was no way to get to her at this point without being blatantly obvious. Besides, apparently, Sofia hadn’t said anything specific about her suspicions—probably because she had no real evidence from Raul. She’d acted strangely enough when she’d met with Eldridge that his uncle had noticed
and
said something, but nothing had come of it. And it didn’t seem as if anything would. His uncle was too preoccupied with guilt over Raul’s death.

“What is the opportunity?” Salvatore demanded.

“It’s real estate, and it’s big. The possibility of making millions very quickly. A case the high court will decide in the next month, and I know how they’re going to come down. You can get the land on the cheap now. After the case is decided, the land’s value will instantly skyrocket.”

Mitch was careful not to react when Salvatore’s eyes went greedy wide.

“Go on.”

“Like I said, I need reciprocity.”

“I’ll cut you in a little.”

Mitch grabbed the package lying beside him and held it up. “I need to know what you’re doing with this, too.”

And then it hit Mitch—exactly what Salvatore had been doing with the information. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?

“You
cannot
become a professional juror,” Stevens seethed through clenched teeth when Xilai had exited the conference room. “You cannot be away from this place for two years.”

Racine had been under strict orders from Victoria and Cameron to tell no one about potentially joining the ranks at Jury Town. But Bart Stevens was his business partner and best friend. He had to tell Bart.

“Relax, Bart.”

“Relax?
Relax?
Did you hear what Xilai said about honesty and transparency, David? Or did I just imagine him saying all that?”

“Of course, I heard it.”

“Not being here for two years is the worst fraud you could play on him,” Stevens said, shaking his head. “Xilai’s investing in you personally as much as he is in this company. He said that very specifically a few minutes ago. You are the face of Excel Games. You are the man who makes this place go. Xilai expects you to be here every day. You told him you would be.”

“I know.”

“And did you hear what the investment bankers said this afternoon about what Xilai does to people who lie to him?”

“They were exaggerating.”

“Really?” Stevens asked sarcastically as he dug into his pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and slammed it down on the conference-room table. “I printed that off the Internet this afternoon, after our call with the I-bankers. Read it.”

Racine unfolded the paper and began to read, but stopped abruptly two sentences in. He’d spotted the words “the body showed signs of torture prior to death” a few sentences ahead. “This happened in China, and the article is very clear that there was never a direct link to Xilai.”

“There were other articles about corporate executives of his portfolio companies dying suspiciously. The one you just read wasn’t the only one by a long shot. Several others in China, two in Europe, and then there was a guy in Illinois six months ago. Xilai is vindictive as hell, David. I’m not going to be a part of this. I’m not risking my life for this.”

Racine shrugged. “What do you want me to do?”

“Forget about Jury Town.”

“I can’t do that, Bart. I
need
the money.”

“If we accept Xilai’s offer, he said he’d have his people wire us the money tomorrow. We’ll be able to catch ourselves up on salaries immediately. And I’ll be able to keep a roof over my family’s head. I won’t have to give the keys to my front door to a sheriff.”

“Just catching up on salary doesn’t do it for me, Bart. I’d need a loan out of that money, but he was very clear that he’ll be watching every dime we spend. Just getting my salary reinstated won’t work.” But the five-hundred-grand prepayment Victoria was offering him when he signed the Jury Town contract absolutely would. Racine had told Stevens about the two million a year, but not about the advance Victoria was offering. “I need more than that. I owe a contractor fifty grand for my kitchen thanks to Tess. And that’s just the start of my debt problems. I’m behind on the mortgage, I’ve got tuition payments, car—”

“You can’t leave me here by myself.”

“I don’t have a choice, Bart.”

“This is crazy. Xilai’s offering us four million dollars. With that kind of money, we could make this company worth hundreds of millions. Your stake will be worth way more than the money you’ll earn at—”

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

Racine and Stevens’ eyes raced to the conference-room door.

“No problem at all,” Racine answered smoothly as he stood and walked toward Xilai. “I was trying to convince my CFO that we should stick to our five-million-dollar premoney value, but he won’t budge. And in the end, I always listen to him.”

“Do we have a deal then?” Xilai asked as Racine reached him.

Racine held out his hand. “We have a deal,” he confirmed as he glanced over his shoulder. “Right, Bart?”

Stevens stared back without answering.

“He’s overcome with joy,” Racine said smoothly. “He can’t believe this is finally happening, and he’s finally going to have money in the till again.”

INTERSTATE 95, NEW HAMPSHIRE

Rockwell sped through the night, feeling untouchable for the first time in his life.

“I’m a Gray,” he whispered, still shocked by what had happened, by the twist they’d thrown at him in the middle of the meeting when they’d told him—with no ceremony—that he could remove his blindfold.

They’d had a big easy chair waiting for him—no more of that uncomfortable wooden chair. And, from now on, they were going to chopper him to and from meetings using a helipad that lay a quarter mile deeper into the forest—as he’d always suspected. He’d proven himself worthy, and now there were five when there had once been four.

“I’m one of them.”

Rockwell had many things to do when he got home—in addition to running one of the hottest firms on Wall Street.

He
had
to make sure his contact got to Felicity West.

He had six more trials around the country he needed to send his messengers out to influence.

And he needed to start focusing on Angela Gaynor. It turned out the Grays had already begun implementing a plan to frame her if her campaign gained too much momentum too quickly. It turned out they weren’t all prepared to shoot Ms. Gaynor down in cold blood—not yet, anyway.

Though that wasn’t the case with Victoria Lewis—just the opposite, in fact. Apparently, they were doing everything in their power to murder her in order to send a clear message to the rest of the states around the country—particularly New York and California—about setting up their own Jury Towns. However, she was proving incredibly difficult to kill, thanks to her bodyguards. The other Grays had asked him to do background work on Dez Braxton as well. If they couldn’t kill him, maybe they could influence him.

He had all of those critically important tasks to focus on when he arrived home. But none of those things would be first on the list.

Before anything else and as soon as he was in his office, no matter how tired he was from this final drive, Rockwell intended to try to match the faces he’d met in that cabin to pictures on websites. He wanted to know exactly who he’d just become partners with. He’d start with the employee websites of the CIA and the Department of Homeland Security.

RICHMOND, VIRGINIA (WEST END)

“Good night, Claire,” Racine called softly from the bedroom doorway.

“Night, Dad,” she called back through a yawn, pulling the covers up over her shoulder and turning on her side, away from the door. “See you in the morning.”

He was about to flip off her bedroom light, but stopped with his finger on the switch. “There’s something I need to say, honey.” He’d been dreading this moment ever since the meeting with Xilai had ended. But he couldn’t wait any longer to tell her.

“What is it?” she asked, sitting up in bed, suddenly wide-awake.

He took a labored breath as he moved a few steps back into her room. She’d always looked at him like he was her hero—and now he was going to risk all that. “You have to go live with your mother in California for a while.”

“
What?
No way! I’m staying here with you.”

“And I want you to stay, believe me, Claire.”

“They can’t make me go. I’m fourteen. I can make my own choices. And I’m not going to live with that tennis guy Mom’s shacked up with. I hate him. I don’t care about a court order. I’ll talk to the judge myself,” she said defiantly.

“It’s not about a court order or talking to a judge.”

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s something I have to do. It’s on me this time.” Telling Stevens about Jury Town was one thing, but he couldn’t burden Claire with it. “I have to work on a project for two years.”

“A project?”