The Elliotts: Bedroom Secrets: Under Deepest Cover. Barbara Dunlop
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at William Morris. I could probably get you a read.”
“I’m a long way from having anything to show.” And, boy, wasn’t that the truth. “But thank you. You’re awfully nice to me.”
“That’s because I want you to stick around. Bryan clearly needs you in his life. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him quite as happy as he was last night. He couldn’t stop staring at you.”
Lucy blushed. She wanted to reassure Scarlet that she would stick around. But, of course, she wouldn’t.
“Scarlet, hi!” A striking woman with the brightest red hair Lucy had ever seen stopped at their table. Scarlet stood to give the other woman a hug. The redhead towered over Scarlet, no easy feat. She had to be well over six feet tall. Then Lucy realized her face was familiar. She was a supermodel. She went by Redd.
“Redd,” Scarlet said, “this is Lindsay Morgan, Bryan’s girlfriend.”
Lucy had never quite gotten over her awe of celebrities, even after the Cruz disaster. She babbled something to Redd, who eventually left to find her own table.
“It must be fun, seeing celebrities all the time,” she said.
“You’ll get used to it.”
Lucy only wished she would have the opportunity to get used to it.
Bryan didn’t get home until close to nine that night. Lucy couldn’t help herself. She launched herself into his arms the moment he got off the elevator.
“Hey, hey,” he said, returning her hug, rubbing her back. “Is something wrong?”
“I was just worried about you.”
“Why? I told you I’d be late.”
“I know. But I didn’t know what you were doing, and I have a vivid imagination. I saw you getting shot, stabbed, poisoned—”
“Oh, Lucy.” He kissed her tenderly. “I wasn’t doing anything dangerous. Just boring legwork. Checking in with snitches, trying to get a lead on Stungun. I met with Siberia.”
“Does he know Stungun’s true identity?”
“No. Only the head of the agency knows. But he’s going to find out. He’s making a case to the director tomorrow. We’ve got to find him.”
“I’ve made some progress on my end.”
“Really?”
“Do you want something to eat? Stash delivered a huge dinner. I didn’t eat a third of it.”
He didn’t let her go. “I’m starved, but not for food.”
“Hmm. I think you tend to confuse your appetites.” She slid out of his grasp. “Sit. I’ll warm up a plate and explain what I’ve found.”
As she heated up the coq au vin tempura, she told him what her research had led her to that afternoon. And she didn’t like it one bit.
“I’ve eliminated everybody but one person. I’ve double- and triple-checked, and she is the only one who has been logged in every single time there was an illegal withdrawal.”
“She?”
“Peggy Holmes, Mr. Vargov’s personal secretary. She’s a mild-mannered grandmother who’s been working at the bank for more than twenty years. I don’t really see how she could be a terrorist sympathizer.”
“You’d be surprised. One of her children is married to a man who travels frequently to the Middle East with his business. Nothing wrong with that in itself—”
“You already know that?”
“I’ve done background checks on everyone at that bank. Now that you’ve identified Peggy as a viable suspect, I’ll zero in on the son-in-law.”
“But Peggy Holmes? I just don’t see it. Of course, she does enjoy helping others and being of service. She lives to please Mr. Vargov. So maybe if someone approached her, made it sound like she’d be doing a great service …”
“What about Mr. Vargov? As the bank president, he’d be in a position of authority and power. You haven’t said much about him. He has relatives in former Soviet republics—”
She shook her head. “It couldn’t be him. I was able to eliminate him as a suspect first thing. He was in a meeting during every single transaction.”
“Every single one?”
“Well, the first few that I looked at. I stopped checking after I was able to eliminate him.” When Bryan still looked skeptical, she added, “Mr. Vargov does attend a lot of meetings.”
“Just for fun, let’s see where he was during all of the transactions.”
“All of them? There are dozens.”
“All of them.”
Three hours later Bryan had the answer he was looking for. Mr. Vargov had been in some type of meeting on the bank premises during every single illicit transaction. During the two weeks he was on vacation, not a single withdrawal took place.
“But he wasn’t even logged onto the computer during most of the transactions,” Lucy objected. “He couldn’t have performed those withdrawals without logging in and using a password.”
“And how hard do you think it would be to figure out his trusty secretary’s password? She probably has it written down someplace.”
“But how could he have—”
“On his PDA. Your conference room has wireless capability. He could carry on a conversation, casually tapping on his Palm Pilot as if recording lunch plans, log on to the bank’s system using Peggy’s password, and move money around. Easy as pie.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it. It’s so obvious! Oh, but Mr. Vargov is so nice. He’s like a father to me. He’s always been kind, gave me a job when he didn’t know me at all, paid me more than I was worth, gave me a really nice office.”
“Think about it. If you were going to raid pension funds, who would you want doing the audits?”
Now Lucy got it. “Someone inexperienced. Under-qualified. Stupid.”
“You would want to pay that person handsomely, keep them happy. A happy employee is much less likely to rock the boat than a dissatisfied one. But you were too smart for him. And too conscientious to forget what you saw just to hold on to your cushy job.”
“It all makes sense now.” She swiveled in her chair to face Bryan, who’d been sitting behind her looking over her shoulder. “That has to be the answer.”
“We are a good team, you and I,” Bryan said with a broad grin. “I never could have figured this out without you.” He pulled her into his lap and nuzzled her neck. “What do you say we celebrate?”
She kissed him hungrily. After her long day at the computer, and all her worrying about Bryan, she craved release—and she knew just how to get it.
“You’ll never guess who I met today,” Lucy said later as they lay in bed. “Redd, the supermodel.”
“She comes in a lot. She likes the wasabi pate.”
“Don’t you love owning a restaurant? I think it would be so fun, like entertaining every day. Making up special dishes for special customers, recommending wine—Well, okay, I’d have to learn about wine. But you must enjoy it.”
“I do. I wish I could devote more time to it.”
Lucy hesitated, then decided she owed it to Bryan to be honest with him about what she’d heard from his relatives. “Your whole family is worried about you, you know. They’ve noticed your long absences—and your injuries at your brother’s wedding. What was that all about?”
“Car accident.”