“Speaking of which-I have a meeting in ten minutes.”
“I’ll be brief. It’s been brought to my attention that your Quinn Harlowe has been asking questions about you. She’s very bright, isn’t she? And suspicious, if not by nature, after working for you for three years. Her friend’s death can’t have helped.”
“What kind of questions is she asking? Of whom? You, Ollie?”
“I don’t have the details. I’m working on getting them. Are you by any chance under investigation?”
Gerard kept himself from shooting up out of his seat. “Of course not.”
“Would you know if you were?”
“Ollie, I don’t play those games. I’m as straightforward as they come. If people want to maneuver and plot behind my back, fine. I’ll just keep doing my job.”
“Spoken like a true patriot,” his friend said.
“Are you suggesting Quinn is part of some kind of conspiracy to undermine me?”
“Oh, no. I’m suggesting no such thing. I’m not trying to make you paranoid. Just watch your back.” Oliver paused, taking a sharp, audible breath. “I didn’t, and I almost lost my life. I don’t want the same to happen to you.”
So that was it. A touch of post-trauma paranoia. “Ollie-I’m sorry. I wish I had more time to talk.”
“You’re coming out to Yorkville this weekend, aren’t you? My people tell me your boat’s been cleaned and is ready to go. I’m in Washington at the moment, but I expect to be back at Breakwater tonight. I’m having an open house there tomorrow afternoon.”
“Tomorrow? At Breakwater?” Gerard didn’t hide his surprise.
“Yes. It’s Sharon ’s idea, but I think it’s a good one. We’re still meeting resistance here in Yorkville, which we need to confront, especially with a dozen trainees arriving in the next couple of weeks.”
“I understand, but it’s so soon after Alicia Miller’s death-”
“We had nothing to do with her death. We don’t have the luxury of time, Gerry. When we’re fully operational, Breakwater Security will provide a necessary, legitimate service. Everything we’ve done or plan to do not only complies with the law but exceeds industry standards. Once people see for themselves, I think we’ll allay any community concerns. We’re trying to be as open and as sensitive as possible.”
Gerard couldn’t help but chuckle. “Damn, Ollie, you should be working in a government public information office. You can spin with the best of them.”
“I’m just telling the truth.” He seemed offended. “Will you come tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Invite Quinn Harlowe to join you.”
“Ollie-”
“You need to know who your friends are, Gerry. And your enemies. I can help.”
“Quinn’s a friend,” Gerard said. “I have no doubts.”
“Good. Then you’ll bring her tomorrow.”
His car had arrived at the restaurant where his meeting was being held. Gerard had to hang up, but when he said goodbye, he felt a crawling sensation that he couldn’t quite describe or understand. The kidnapping in December had been a brutal ordeal for his old college buddy, and Alicia’s accidental drowning almost two weeks ago, coupled with her bizarre behavior, had been an unexpected blow for everyone. For Oliver Crawford, a multimillionaire businessman who liked control, Alicia’s death alone would have been cause for him to retrench. Add in an intense, inquisitive Quinn Harlowe, the events of the past few months had to have rubbed raw every fear and insecurity he had.
A spring-weekend afternoon party at beautiful Breakwater could just be what the doctor ordered-for all of us, Gerard thought.
“One moment,” he told his driver, dialing Quinn’s cell phone.
Ollie’s warning was pure drama and post-trauma edginess, Gerard decided, dismissing it from his mind.
He trusted no one more than he did Quinn Harlowe.
26
When Lubec, Rochester and Glover picked Huck up near the quirky American Society for the Study of Plants and Animals, he told them he was taking the afternoon off and would find his own way back to Breakwater. He didn’t offer any explanations. Lubec didn’t like it, but he had a helicopter waiting-no time to argue with a low-level employee like Huck Boone.
Diego Clemente, who, as Huck had expected, had just arrived in Washington, picked him up in front of the White House and took him out to Arlington and the historic northern Virginia house where Nate Winter lived with his wife and the ghosts of Abraham Lincoln and Robert E. Lee.
“Find another ride back to the Neck,” Diego said. “I’m going to check on Harlowe.”
“You’re still ticked off at her because she made you.”
Diego had made his opinion plain about Quinn Harlowe turning her research and analysis talents onto the two of them. He scowled. “Ever think she could have hooked up with these vigilante pukes and be playing us?”
“No.”