To Catch a Bad Guy (14 page)

“You should try it
sometime. I can hook you up with a complimentary membership.”

Janet forced a smile,
wondering how she could ever repay Lisa for this humiliation.

“Just yanking your
chain.” Andrew chuckled. “Imagine what a pompous ass I would have been if I had
actually meant it? Oh, I think that’s the signal for the dinner seating,”
Andrew remarked, pointing at the trail of guests making their way inside the
house.

The two of them joined
the rest of the guests, and Andrew got hijacked by one of Lisa’s aunts, who was
intent on finding out whether Andrew’s business catered to the fifty-plus
crowd.

“What did I tell you –
is he hot or what?” Lisa whispered into Janet’s ear just as she was about to
take her seat at the dinner table. “You can thank me later for the seating
arrangements.”

Before Janet could say
another word, Lisa had vanished, leaving Janet all alone in the company of
Lisa’s great uncle who was seated to Janet’s left. She glanced longingly at her
parents who were seated at the opposite side of the table. This was going to be
a long evening.

“What a pleasant
surprise.” Andrew took his seat next to Janet’s. “Excuse me for being kidnapped
by Aunt Agnes. She is getting over a divorce and is desperate to meet new men.”

This time Janet’s smile
was genuine.

Surprisingly, his
dating philosophy aside, Andrew proved to be a wonderful dinner
conversationalist. Intercepting Lisa’s meaningful glance, Janet had to admit
that this time Lisa had finally come through. When she caught Joe O’Connor’s
eyes following her and glimpsed Daphne’s sour expression, Janet’s evening had
become complete. She might be single, but she was still desirable.

Before long, the dinner
was over. Guests lingered with after-dinner drinks, slowly starting to take
their leave. The party was coming to an end, and so was her unexpected blind
date with Andrew, if it could even be called that. Janet said goodbye to Lisa
and Paul and Emily and Jack Foley. She was about to join her parents for the
walk back to the house when Andrew caught up with her.

“Would you like to take
a drive?” he asked. “I have a kick-ass car,” he added.

“Sure.” Janet smiled,
and why not? The night, as they said it, was young. “Let me just tell my
parents not to wait up.”

“I’ll wait in the
driveway.”

A few moments later,
Janet found Andrew right where he had said he would be.

“I’m parked a few
blocks down,” he said.

Together they walked
down the deserted sidewalk, the only light being that of the houses they passed
on the way.

“Here we are.” Andrew
opened the door of his yellow Ferrari.

“You drive a Ferrari?”

“Do you think it’s too
much?”

“No, I don’t. I think
it’s just perfect.” Janet climbed inside the car. The low sports car seating
exuded thrill and sex.

Andrew climbed in
beside her and within moments, they were off.

“You’re driving too
fast,” Janet shrieked.

“Are you worried I
might get a ticket?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s very sweet of
you, but you needn’t worry. A very high-ranking officer of the local police is
an old buddy of mine, and he’s also a very good client.”

“Really?” Janet’s
eyebrows rose in disbelief. “What’s his name?”

“You’ll just have to
take my word for it. I can’t reveal his identity. Professional
confidentiality.”

“Can you at least tell
me where we’re going?”

“You’ll see.” Andrew
pressed on the gas pedal, making the engine roar.

“What is this place?”
Janet asked after the car had stopped. It was dark, and she had a hard time
making out their surroundings.

“Don’t you remember?”

Janet squinted, the
recognition coming to her in a flash. How could she have forgotten? This has
been a popular make-out spot in high school, and probably still was for the
kids who filled the school’s halls these days.

“I just thought it
might be fun to come here,” Andrew offered.

Janet felt tension
creeping over her; suddenly, the night had lost all of its charm.

“I really like you,
Janet,” Andrew murmured, moving in closer – so close that Janet could sense his
breath on her neck. “I’d like to get to know you again.”

Janet drew away. Again
implied that they had known each other at some point in time, but aside from
Andrew’s lustful ogling, there had not been much interaction between them prior
to tonight.

“There is chemistry
between us, don’t deny it,” Andrew continued.

Janet lingered; yes,
there had been something a few moments ago. Who knew, their banter might have
even led to a kiss at the end of the evening, but now, all she felt was
revulsion.

Before she could get
out of his reach, Andrew’s hand was on her waist, sliding down to her bottom,
and his wet, sloppy mouth was covering hers. His tongue was making its way
inside Janet’s mouth like an eager lizard, as Andrew’s hands unzipped the back
of her dress with alarming deftness.

“Get away from me!”
Janet shrieked. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What the hell are you
doing?” Andrew snapped. “I thought you wanted this.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Why did you
agree to go for a ride with me then?”

“I don’t know; we were
having a nice time. I just wanted to go for a drive. Did you think I was going
to have sex with you in your car?” Janet wrapped her arms around herself
protectively.

“Don’t flatter
yourself, honey. These days I don’t have to beg for sex. Women are throwing
themselves at me. Lisa had chewed my ears off with talks about how desperate
you were to meet someone. You looked so lonely at the party; I just wanted to
do you a favor.”

“I don’t need any
‘favors,’ especially from the likes of you.” Janet hurriedly zipped up her dress.
“Have a nice life, Andrew. I hope your IPO tanks.”

“Hey, there’s no reason
to get all worked up about this. Come on, I’ll drive you home…”

But Janet did not even
bother to reply as she made her way uphill to the road. It was a half-hour walk
to her parents’ house, but she’d rather walk barefoot on broken glass than
spend another second in Andrew Foley’s car.

On Monday morning Janet
sat in her office, tallying up the results of the weekend, which even taking
her most humiliating adolescent memories into account had been the most
embarrassing weekend of her life. Blankly staring into her computer screen,
Janet compiled a mental list of all the indignities she had endured in the past
two days: attending an engagement party as the only single guest under the age
of fifty – check, being harassed by your friend’s mother regarding your
appearance – check, being badgered by the same friend’s relatives about your
personal life – check, and last, but by far not the least, becoming an
unwitting object of lust of a formerly puny, sex-obsessed teenage pest, who had
turned into a much better looking, but still equally sex-obsessed man.

Janet could not help a
sad smile at her tally. Perhaps, she should start a dating blog about the
mortifications of being single in your late twenties. Given the amount of
single women in New York, it ought to be a popular subject. That would be one
way of turning lemons into lemonade. If she got this second career off the
ground, she would no longer have to worry about her employment at Bostoff
Securities or the nature of Bostoff’s business. For a moment the possibility
seemed tempting, except Janet worried that most women would not relate, for she
was beginning to suspect that she was an aberration when it came to her bad
luck on the love front. She knew for a fact that in her entire life Lisa Foley
had not encountered even a fraction of the embarrassment that Janet had
suffered through this weekend.

But as much as she
would have loved to wallow in self-pity, Janet had much more pressing matters
to attend to: like the matter of her employment, which was as precarious as her
love life. If indeed her research would confirm her initial suspicion about
Bostoff Securities, she would have some very tough decisions to make. She was
just about to focus on the report for Friday when there was a knock on the
door. This time Janet had been vigilant enough to keep the door of her office
closed. She quickly put the papers away. “Come in!”

“Am I interrupting
anything?” Lisa sauntered in.

“Oh, no, I was just
doing some research,” Janet replied, her heart beating wildly. She wasn’t
lying, but then she wasn’t telling the truth either.

Lisa rolled her eyes,
indicating that such a subject was not worthy of her interest. “Janie, I’m so
sorry about the party. What a jerk Andrew turned out to be! I meant to call you
on Sunday, but Paul and I were busy looking at catering venues.”

“How did you hear about
what happened with Andrew?”

“The prick had the
nerve to complain to me about it. He got all upset about me dragging him out
for nothing. Apparently, my engagement is not worthy of his attention; he also
had to score with you.”

Janet’s irritation
spiked. Lisa’s narcissism was unending. Never mind that courtesy of Lisa, Janet
had been pawed by Lisa’s sleazoid cousin in the middle of nowhere; in the end,
Lisa was still the victim.

“What exactly did you
tell Andrew about me, Lisa?”

Lisa fiddled with her
blazer. “Oh, nothing much. That you were going to be at my party…”

“Are you sure? Then how
come he knew about me being single? He also used the word ‘desperate.’”

“Oh, I might have
mentioned that you were single, but I never said a word about desperation.
Clearly, you have no reason to be desperate.”

There it was again:
Lisa’s old trick of switching the tables on you, but this time Janet was not
budging. “Do me a favor, Lisa, stop setting me up on dates.”

“Suit yourself.” Lisa
rose from her chair. “Don’t forget about the company party this Thursday.”

“I’ll be there, but
don’t even think about setting me up with that Tom Wyman character.”

“Not to worry. Your
personal life is now solely in your capable hands. Rest assured, there will be
no interference from poor, sloppy me.” Lisa cocked her head as she began to
slowly exit Janet’s office.

Janet guessed from
Lisa’s measured walk that she was awaiting an apology, but remained silent. Her
boss or not, there was a limit as to how much humiliation one person was
allowed to inflict upon another.

Lisa stopped short
before exiting through the door, and Janet’s heart lurched. Could it be that
Lisa was going to apologize? That would be an unprecedented occurrence worthy
of the Guinness Book of World Records.

“Oh, and I almost
forgot, I’m going to look at wedding dresses next weekend. I expect you to be
there.”

Janet nodded; a promise
was a promise, and she had agreed to be Lisa’s maid of honor. “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Lisa shifted
her feet, clearly dissatisfied with the absence of an apology. “Well, I’ll see
you later.”

***

Dennis Walker sat in
his boss’s office for an urgently scheduled briefing. It was lunch-time, and
Dennis had left his post at Bostoff Securities under a pretext of a doctor’s
appointment. When working undercover, he hated briefing meetings during
business hours because of the risk of being tracked down, but his boss had made
it clear that it was imperative for them to speak, and Dennis had no choice but
to agree. He had been careful when he left Bostoff, and to his knowledge, he
did not see anyone trailing him.

“Sorry I’m late,
Dennis.” Hamilton Kirk walked into the room, carrying a cup of coffee. At
fifty-five, Ham Kirk was lean and trim, thanks to daily six a.m. workouts at
the gym. As usual, he was dressed in a dark gray wool suit, white shirt, and
argyle-patterned tie.

He must have an
inexhaustible supply of argyle ties, Dennis thought of his boss. Today’s tie
was in a navy color scheme, but Dennis had witnessed Ham wear green, beige, and
even maroon variations, but always in an argyle pattern and always accompanied
by a dark gray suit, of which Ham too had to have an endless supply.

“Would you like a cup?”
Ham offered with belated hospitality. “I could ask Linda to make another cup.”

“It’s all right.”
Dennis shook his head. He just wanted this tete-a-tete to be over with. As far
as bosses went, Ham Kirk was generally a good boss, but he could be a real
nuisance when he was in one of his sour moods, and by the prim expression on
his boss’s face, Dennis could tell that Ham Kirk was in one of his moods today.

“Well, then, let’s get
right to it, shall we?” Ham rested his fingertips on the coffee cup. “What have
you got on Bostoff Securities so far, Dennis?”

Dennis had to make a
mental effort to maintain a neutral expression. He had been sending regular
updates to his boss, so why the silly spectacle?

“Well, sir, not much
has changed since my last report,” Dennis formed the sentence deliberately to
pique Kirk.

“Not much, huh? Well,
that’s disconcerting. In fact, that’s the reason why I called you in here
today, Dennis.”

“But sir, with all due
respect, undercover work takes time. Now that I have access to Bostoff’s data,
I can confirm that Emperial, along with Creaton, Rigel, Gemini, and Sphinx are
Bostoff’s top clients. As you know, these companies have previously been
suspected of organized market manipulation, yet the lack of concrete evidence
prevented—” Dennis did not get to finish his sentence.

“Yes, I am very well aware
of this fact, Dennis, but so is the FBI. I just got a call from their white
collar crime desk this morning. Apparently, FBI’s white collar crime desk has
been doing some digging on Bostoff, and now, they are requesting assistance
with the investigation from every regulatory agency. I’m afraid Bostoff is no
longer our case. We’ve lost any chances for a lead that we had.”

“But, sir, how can the
Feds encroach on our case?” Dennis burst out, knowing full well that the
question was rhetorical. After all, he had worked for the Feds for three years,
and he knew that the eight-hundred-pound gorilla that they were, the Feds
always got their way. “We’ve already done so much of the work. Granted, after
we have gathered the information necessary for the investigation, we will pass
it on to the Feds for criminal prosecution, but in the current state of the
investigation, involving another party could put the entire operation at risk.”

“What a smooth talker
you are, Dennis, but I’m afraid you can’t bullshit your way out of this one.
The Feds are after glory. They’ve ballooned their staff, spawning all kinds of
useless divisions, and now, they need to justify their existence with
achievements, and what better way to do that than to snatch someone else’s
catch?”

“So that’s it? We’re
done?”

A shrewd smile appeared
on Ham’s lips. “Not quite – I got us an extension. Three more weeks was all I
was able to get. They agreed that if we’re able to get the evidence to convict
the buggers, we’ll be the first to announce the results of the investigation,
then hand it over to the Feds for further action.”

“Three weeks,” Dennis
repeated grimly.

“And not a day more.”

“Sir, I’d like to ask
for your permission to recruit an internal source.”

Ham’s eyes glowed. “You
found an inside source?”

“Yes, sir; a woman who
works in Bostoff Securities’ legal department—”

“Oh, Christ, Dennis,
don’t tell me that you’re chasing skirts instead of doing your job.”

“Sir, this is strictly
professional,” Dennis countered. “Although Janet Maple also happens to be quite
an attractive woman, my interest in her is only driven by her potential value
as an information source,” Dennis replied, almost convinced by his own words.

“Fine, do whatever it
takes, Dennis, but you’d better come through on this one. Don’t make me regret
giving the assignment to you instead of Laskin. I don’t intend giving up my
promotion to the Feds, and I presume, you do understand what’s going to happen
if I get passed on my promotion?”

Dennis nodded.

“That’s right, you can
forget about moving up in this place. You’re dismissed, son. Now get back to
work.”

With as much dignity as
he could master under the circumstances, Dennis bowed out of Ham’s office.

Walking along the
hallway, Dennis tried to regroup. His professional pride had been bruised by
Ham’s chewing him out. Sure, it was easy for Ham to rant. When was the last
time the old goat had done any hands-on work? All he did was receive updates
from his employees, basking in the glory of the accomplishments brought in by
his charges. Dennis checked his watch: it was twelve-thirty in the afternoon,
which left him just enough time to stop by the section of the floor where the
junior analysts sat. As part of the mentorship program that had been recently
introduced at the Treasury, Dennis had taken several pretty girls under his
wing. At the moment, wide-eyed adoration was just what he needed to boost his
bruised ego. But halfway before he reached his destination, Dennis was
interrupted by yet another unpleasant encounter.

“Dennis Walker, what a pleasant
surprise!” Peter Laskin greeted Dennis with affected cordiality. “How’s life in
the fast lane?”

“Hello, Peter. You’re
looking well.” Dennis noted with satisfaction that Laskin’s bald spot seemed to
have grown bigger since he’d last seen him. “Is that a new haircut?”

“Why, thank you,
Dennis, you’re most kind.” Laskin smoothed his hair, or what had remained of
it. “It’s been a while since we last spoke. You are a rare sight these days.”

“Well, as you know,
field work does not leave much time for loitering around the office.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. I
must say that I’ve been busy analyzing emails of Bostoff Securities employees,
courtesy of your undercover work there. Are you sure they’re not feeding you
dummies, my friend? There’s absolutely nothing there.” Laskin raised his hands,
spreading out his fingers for added effect.

“You just wait and
see,” Dennis replied. “There’ll be plenty soon.”

“From your mouth to
God’s ears,” Laskin called after Dennis’s irked back.

***

“I’ll be right there.
Show them into the conference room,” Jon Bostoff instructed his secretary over
the intercom. He consulted his watch. David Muller, the Emperial honcho, was
right on time for their meeting, but where was Tom Wyman? Irritated, Jon rose
from his chair. He had rather expected Wyman to arrive ahead of time for the
meeting, what with all the hefty fees Jon had been paying him. But now it
looked like he would have to make small talk with Muller while waiting for
Wyman to join them, and Jon Bostoff detested small talk.

“Sorry I’m late, Jon.”
Tom Wyman walked brusquely through the door of Jon’s office.

“It’s about time;
Muller is here already.”

Wyman nodded. “Where
are we meeting him?”

“In the conference room
downstairs. I didn’t want him wandering around the trading floor.”

“So, you’re sure that
we’re bulletproof to go ahead with the arrangement?” Jon asked Wyman as they
walked to the elevators.