Murder.com (23 page)

Jake smiled. "Very funny. You're
very funny, Miss…"

"Whitehall."

"Ah, yes, Miss Whitehall." He
appeared as if he was going to try to reach for Ginny's hand again.
To no doubt kiss it. But she was onto him, and extended it to
shake.

They shook hands.

"Jake?" I asked, trying to defuse
the uncomfortable pageantry of him hitting on my soon-to-be fiancée
in front of me. "What is it that you guys do again?"

"Passer's remorse, huh?" he said,
trying, no doubt, to take a dig at me for not investing in his
company.

"Maybe a little," I
lied.

"Social media and video-calling
software, but we've been moving into the hologram game. Working on
the hardware to broadcast a picture and audio hologram."

Holograms. That was what had
probably gotten Seth killed. Ginny's eyes looked like they were
just about ready to pop out of her head. I couldn't see myself, but
I imagined that my jaw must have dropped about six inches. I made a
fist and pushed it up to my chin. Trying to close my
mouth.

Jake took a sip of his drink. Then
went back to the double-hand wraparound hold. Jesus, he was tense.
I was going to try to see if my ol' buddy would open up to me a
little more. He had a big mouth. Shouldn't take much.

"Did you know Seth
Cohen?"

"Did I know Seth? Why are you
talking about him in the past tense?"

He didn't know. He had no idea
that Seth Cohen was dead. I wasn't sure if I should tell him. I
could sense Imogen pleading with her eyes for me to spill the
beans. See where it would lead. Maybe Jake had some info for us
that we could use.

"He died the other day. Hit by a
car," I said.

"Oh my God! You're kidding." He
appeared shocked.

"No, not kidding. The police found
him on the sidewalk, dead. Some sort of hit and run."

"This city is fucking crazy! You
can't even walk down a sidewalk." He was trying to gather his
thoughts. "I mean. Seth Cohen. Dead. I can't believe
it."

"So, I guess you knew
him?"

"Yeah, Maxy, I knew him. His
company did some of the same stuff that we do."

That was what I thought. And I could tell that
Imogen was thinking the same thing.

"Oh yeah?"

"But there was something weird
going on with Seth and BMC. Something about the patent that Seth
had, then didn't have, that BMC all of a sudden had. I didn't
really follow it, but Seth was trying to get me to work with him,
and was bashing BMC all over the place at my party. Said he knew
something that could bury BMC, and we'd own the market. But I was a
little, well, too drunk to remember what he was talking
about."

Drunk—that was an understatement.

"Really? That sounds pretty
intense," I said.

"You think? Some of these guys are
so emotional about technology. I take what they say with a grain of
salt. It all came down to money. In the end, BMC gave me a shitload
of cash. Seth was just offering what-ifs. It's all about cash,
brother."

Seth had dirt on Ken. That was
what I'd gleaned from this conversation. That made sense. Maybe he
was holding it over Ken's head. Pushing Ken to give him back what
Ken possibly stole? Took? Bought? I wasn't sure. But Jake's
motor-mouth was certainly helping to connect the dots between BMC,
Ted, and Seth.

"I knew that something was going
on with Seth and BMC," I said.

"Yeah, I think they were trying to
take over SCV, Seth's company. I didn't really get into it with
BMC. Didn't want to rock the cradle."

"Yeah, I don't blame you," I said.
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. That's what they say,
right?"

"Maxy, you kill me. Now, I'm going
to give you one last chance to get in. One last opportunity to make
a sound investment before we close the round. Anything you want,
anything you want to put in there, I'll take it. C'mon,
brother."

Saved by the lights.

"I'll think about it," I
whispered.

Suddenly the lights went dim, the French doors
opened, and then Mike and Ted strolled in. Very dignified. They
moved over to the quartet, with Santa between them. Mike picked up
a microphone, removing it from its stand. He stepped toward the
middle of the quartet as if he was the new lead singer. Then he
spoke.

"Good evening, everyone." He
waited for acknowledgement from the crowd. The chatter died down
and he continued, "I would like to welcome all of you to our
holiday party. We are so happy that you could make it. The holidays
are always a time for celebrating friends, family, business
associates, and our good fortune. To our portfolio companies." Mike
paused and looked around the room, acknowledging certain people by
pointing, waving, and smiling. "You are the people that make what
we do possible. Your hard work. Your dedication. Your vision. You
all have made this year so very wonderful, and we are so very
grateful for everything that you do." Polite applause ensued then
Mike continued, "The holidays are also a time to reflect on the
prior year and to remember the friends and family that we have
lost. That being said, we would like to take a moment to
acknowledge the loss of our friend and partner, Ted Baxter." Mike
looked over at Kitty, the microphone and his hands falling to his
side for a moment, and it appeared that he was overcome with
emotion. Kitty proudly looked over to Mike, maintaining a face
demonstrating her forthrightness to persevere through this hard
time. Kate was here as well, and for the first time I noticed her
off to Mike's left, her head bowed in respect for Ted. Ken, who was
standing next to Mike, put his hand on his shoulder, bent over, and
whispered something into Mike's ear. This seemed to give Mike the
strength to continue. "You all mean so very much to us. Enjoy the
party and happy holidays." The crowd remained silent for a moment
and then applauded.

I turned to Ginny. "He's quite a
showman."

"He scares me."

The music resumed, and then
moments later the chatter returned as well. Jake, Ginny, and I sat
back down on the couch and chatted about nothing. I was sipping my
second wine, looking around the room. Kate was making the rounds
with Mike and Ken off in the middle of the crowd somewhere when I
spied a man with dark hair and a beard. He looked familiar. Jake
was telling Ginny about some winery that he'd recently visited as I
stared at the man. How did I know him?
Then it hit me. That was the man who had chased me around
Manhattan. He didn't seem to have noticed me. He was engaged in
conversation with four men, all of whom it appeared as if he knew
very well. He didn't seem the least interested in me, or in anyone
in the room for that matter. At the very least, he must be
connected to BMC. I was sure of that. I didn't want to alarm
Imogen, so I faked a laugh when Jake reached what must have been
the punch line to a joke he was telling us.

I hadn't even seen Mike approach
when he suddenly appeared in front of our sitting area. We all
rose.

"Mike," I said, extending a hand.
"Happy holidays."

"Max," he said, shaking my
hand.

"Lovely party," Ginny said as she
gave him two air kisses. "And a lovely speech."

"Well, thank you, Miss Whitehall,"
he said then turned toward Jake. "Jake," Mike said, patting him on
the back. "Glad you could make it."

They shook hands.

"Is Kate here?" Imogen
asked.

"She is, Imogen. She stopped by
the bar to grab a drink."

"I'll have to find her," Imogen
said. "I'd like to say hello."

"She'd quite like that, I'm sure,
Miss Whitehall."

"I think we're on a first-name
basis by now."

Mike ignored Imogen and turned
toward Jake. "Do you mind if I borrow Max and Miss Whitehall here
for a moment?"

"Not at all," Jake said, then
turned and walked away, quickly. He seemed relieved.
Don't rock the boat, ol' boy.

"Would you two mind accompanying
me to my office? I have something that I want to share with
you."

Ginny grabbed my hand and squeezed
it hard. She did not want to be in an office alone with Mike. To be
honest, I didn't want to either.

"Sure," I said as we began our
walk through The Club back toward the mahogany doors. I caught the
bearded man staring at me as Ginny and I strolled through the room.
His gaze was like stone. He followed me with his eyes as we exited
The Club and entered the reception area.

Mike gave Santa a pat on the
shoulder. "My office is right around the corner."

"I remember," I said.

Ginny was now squeezing my arm
tightly as I escorted her into Mike's office.

"So glad that you could make it,
Max," Mike said, as we strolled through the doorway to his
office.

"Me too."

"Do you guys mind if I close the
door?"

Yes.

"No, go ahead," I said.

Mike closed the door and then
walked over to his desk. He found his way over to his chair and
then invited Ginny and I to have a seat. I told him that I had been
sitting for a bit and would prefer to stand. He told me we wouldn't
be long and invited me again to sit. This time Ginny and I
obliged.

"What a year, huh, Max?" Mike said
as he sat back in his chair.

"Yeah, it's been crazy," I said,
sitting erect in the plush leather club chair opposite
him.

Ginny just nodded. She was nervous. When Imogen got
scared, she got quiet.

"I wanted to thank you, privately,
for reconnecting with me this year. Although we lost Ted, I think
he would have wanted us to do business together. Despite the
history between the two of you."

"Well, that was ages ago," I said,
trying to relax.

"What, the engagement thing?"
Imogen asked.

"Yes, the engagement thing," he
said in a condescending tone. Which, for all intents and purposes,
was his general tone.

"What about it?" Ginny said in a
slightly uptight manner. She crossed her legs, trying to look more
relaxed.

"Well, Ted was the guy who stole
Kitty away."

"Thanks, Mike," I said, "for
rehashing that subject for us. As you must know, it's a hot topic
of conversation in our home."

Mike looked at Ginny and I
quizzically. "Are you two…"

"Yes, but I'm not sure for how
much longer now," I said, trying to make light of the
situation.

"I thought something was going on
between the two of you," Mike said.

"You thought right," I
added.

"Miss Whitehall, I didn't mean to
upset you, I simply—"

"Please, don't worry about it. I'm
not upset. I don't live in Max's past."

Ginny and Mike exchanged a few more words concerning
my past with Ted, then Mike changed the tone of the
conversation.

"Max, I've got something for you."
He slid open the top drawer of his desk slowly. Ginny and I were
sitting close enough that we could see a gun appear as he pulled it
open. His hand entered the drawer, and I found myself beginning to
stand. His hand was in the drawer passing over the gun, reaching
for something different.

He must have sensed our unease.
"Oh, this?" He lifted up the gun. "It's for protection. I have a
permit."

As if having a permit made
anything better. Made the gun less deadly when it was shot into the
back of someone's head.

I sat back down. He placed the gun
back in the drawer and reached for something else then closed the
drawer. "Here." He handed me a gift.

Protection? Was it a 9mm gun? Was that the one used
to kill Ted?

I wasn't sure if I was relieved or
had become tenser. I looked over at Ginny, and she wasn't buying
the protection story either. "Thanks, but this isn't necessary,
Mike," I said, taking the present.

"Just a little token of our
gratitude. We're excited for the coming year," Mike said. "Open
it."

I unwrapped a bottle of Glenfiddich 18.

"It seems to be your drink, so I
figured why not."

I smiled. My favorite.

"Thanks, Mike. This is great. Want
to pop it open and have a quick drink?"

"C'mon, let's go grab one at the
bar. We've got some great drams to try." Mike got up from his chair
and motioned for us to join him. I left the bottle on his desk. We
all exited his office and walked back into The Club. "You two grab
a drink at the bar. I'm going to just say hi to Jim over there for
a moment." Mike walked back into the sea of people.

"That was weird," I
said.

"Did you see that gun?" Imogen
said.

"How could I miss it?"

As I sat at the bar and ordered a drink, I could
still see the bearded man engaged in conversation. I did not see
him looking at me directly, but when my back was turned I sensed
that someone was watching me.

Our cocktails arrived, and Ginny
and I sat drinking, looking out into this mass of people. The band
played, the people talked, and I stared. Then, as I was in mid-sip,
in walked John Carrington, escorted by three other police officers.
They were all plainclothes officers wearing blue jackets that
had
POLICE
scrawled across their backs in yellow. They were not
brandishing any weapons, but you could see they were carrying. It
was also clear that they all had some form of protection on under
their shirts. They made a beeline for Mike.