On my back through Martin and McGee’s foyer, I passed the three-woman cleaning crew on their way in. Nathan was still shouting and carrying on two hallways away, demanding I return to free him. We could hear him all the way to the reception area.
I gave the custodians my handcuff key. Though my Spanish was as limited as their English, I finally managed to communicate through a few words and pantomime that they’d find an hombre cuffed to a silla in an oficina and that said hombre would be sin pantalones. They giggled and nodded knowingly. Apparently Nathan wouldn’t be the first naked man they’d had to spring from handcuffs.
“Gracias,” I called as I stepped into the elevator.
Ten hours later, after sleeping the restful sleep of the newly vindicated, I watched the morning news as I fed my cats and ate a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. The weatherman suggested Dallas residents take an umbrella with them today, as drizzle was expected. Medical researchers had discovered what could be a new, virulent strain of flu. Urk. Some chick with purple hair had been voted off the island. Was that really news?
Next came the local business reports. The Gertz firm had filed their lawsuit the minute the court clerk’s office opened this morning, and word had already spread of the infringement claim. The value of H2 stock was plummeting like a guillotine. The image on the television screen showed a field reporter standing in front of a one-story office building with a handful of furious investors who had attempted to storm H2’s headquarters only to find the office empty and the doors locked. My guess would be that Hunter and Tanner were meeting with their attorney at his office, trying to determine how best to put out this raging wildfire.
Given that I received no tongue-lashing from Lu when I arrived at the IRS office, it appeared Nathan hadn’t followed through on his threats to contact my boss. He’d had a few hours to think things through by then and probably realized that trying to get me in trouble could backfire on him. Though he’d been careful to pursue only women who were not in his direct chain of command and thus avoid a sexual harassment suit, Martin and McGee’s managing partner would be none too pleased to know of Nathan’s exploits. Nathan’s job could be on the line. He’d wisely chosen to suck it up, take the punches I’d dealt him, and call it even.
Still, while I didn’t receive a tongue-lashing, Lu did insist I wear my ballistic vest to my meeting with the Hildebrand brothers and their attorneys. She stood in my doorway, her arms crossed over her ample chest, her strawberry blond beehive wig towering over her head. I sometimes feared her hair might be prehensile, that one of these days the beehive was going to reach down and give me a bitch slap.
“You heard me.” Lu’s eyes became slits, her false eyelashes drawing inward. “You’re not leaving this office until I see you put that vest on.”
Nick joined her in my doorway, crossing his arms over his broad chest as well. “That goes ditto for me.”
I rolled my eyes. The Hildebrand brothers might be a pair of creepy clones, but they were computer geeks, not violent criminals. Still, given my history since joining the IRS, I couldn’t blame Lu or Nick for insisting I wear the vest. I’d been shot at on several occasions and had had to return fire. It seemed I couldn’t resolve a case without some type of altercation. Not that I ever started it, but still. It couldn’t hurt to err on the side of caution. And knowing Nick was concerned for my safety, well, that kind of made me rethink things. Maybe I would breast-feed his Godzilla spawn after all.
I slid out of my black blazer and reached for the vest I kept in my briefcase. I made a circular motion with my hand. “Turn around.”
Lu turned her back to me, but Nick didn’t, instead shooting me a chip-toothed grin and raising a brow. Lu slapped at his arm. “You turn around right now.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay!”
I turned my back to them, too, quickly unbuttoning and removing my blouse. I slid into the vest, put my shirt back on, then topped it all with my blazer. “All right,” I said. “I’m good.”
“Okeydoke,” Lu said, giving me a nod. “And one last thing—”
“I know, I know.” I heaved a loud sigh. I knew exactly what she’d planned to say next. I’d heard it a million times before. “Try not to shoot anybody.”
Sheila and I arrived at Martin and McGee’s office five minutes prior to our scheduled meeting time. I’d forwarded the certified letter to her earlier in the morning and followed up with a phone call to discuss the lawsuit. She’d run by the courthouse and obtained both a copy of the petition in the copyright infringement case and an arrest warrant for the Hildebrand brothers.
Nathan’s secretary escorted us back to Nathan’s office this time. He looked up as we entered, his expression one of a dog that had been cowed. I noticed one of the arms of his chair was missing. Looked like he’d broken it last night in his attempts to escape, like a coyote that chews off his leg to get out of a trap.
Still, despite what had happened between us, Nathan and I were on the same side now. Both of us were pissed that the Hildebrand brothers had been dishonest. But while frauds like them kept me employed, their fraud could have put Nathan’s career at risk. Hence, this case had once again taken a personal turn for him.
Jerry Macklin bore a benign expression, but no doubt he was simmering with anger at Tanner and Hunter, too. No one wanted a client who withheld evidence and lied to them. It was a betrayal. Still, Macklin had a job to do, one for which he was being paid 450 bucks an hour, plus expenses. He held out his hand, took the arrest warrant from Sheila, and quickly perused it. He handed it back to her. “We don’t know all the details yet. Let’s not make a circus of this, okay?”
“Fine with me,” Sheila said.
It was fine with me, too. I enjoyed the clowns and the trapeze artists at the circus, but elephants and tigers and bears being forced to perform tricks in a ring was just plain unnatural. After the years I’d spent in my cubicle here, I knew what it was like to feel caged. My heart went out to the captive creatures. Not that Macklin had been referring to a real circus, but still.
Sheila slid the warrant back into her briefcase. “If they’ll come willingly to the courthouse to be arraigned, I’ll spare your boys the handcuffs.”
Nathan cut a perturbed glance my way at the mention of handcuffs. Macklin simply nodded. Since insider trading and fraud weren’t violent crimes, the Hildebrands would most likely be released on bail. Even if the judge set the bail high, the twins had plenty of money in their Swiss bank account to cover a bond. I hoped it would take a day or two to wire the funds back to the States. It would serve them right to spend a night or more in jail before being released to await trial.
“By the way,” Sheila said, checkingthe clock on Nathan’s wall, “where are your clients?”
I consulted the clock, too. It was three minutes after eleven.
The Hildebrand brothers were late.
Macklin was evasive. “Caught in traffic, I suppose. The rain probably slowed them down.”
It was possible. Drizzle tended to cause fender benders, especially in Texas, where people tended to drive like rabid bats out of hell despite the state’s motto: Drive Friendly—The Texas Way. I’d been delayed by a wreck this morning myself. Still, the Hildebrand brothers could be anywhere. Well, anywhere within the United States. Their passports had yet to be issued, thank goodness.
We sat without speaking for several minutes, the only sounds the whirr of Nathan’s computer, the clickety-click of his secretary typing on her keyboard just outside the office, and occasional footsteps as staff members moved about the floor. The light precipitation accumulated into drops on the window behind Nathan, an occasional droplet surrendering to gravity and streaming down the window.
When I grew bored watching the rain, I pulled out my cell phone and checked my e-mail. Brett had sent a link to the evening’s movie listings. Viola had sent an e-mail reminding the agents to turn in their monthly expense reports. Nick had sent a message asking me to bring him more chili. The guy was a glutton for punishment, huh? I slid the phone into the pocket of my blazer.
The clock proceeded to ten minutes after eleven, then fifteen. Sheila motioned to Macklin. “Try calling those boys, see what’s keeping them.”
Macklin gave her a look that said he didn’t like to be told what to do, but he nonetheless nodded and stood, stepping out of the office to speak privately with his clients. He returned a couple of minutes later.
“Well?” Shelia asked.
Macklin shrugged. “I tried both their mobile numbers and their home and office phones. All my calls went to voice mail.”
Sheila sat up. “This doesn’t look good.”
Macklin raised a palm. “Don’t go jumping to conclusions now. They might be in the parking garage or elevator. Reception can sometimes be spotty in these buildings.”
True. Then again, the twins might have realized now that the lawsuit was filed the SEC would learn they’d been aware of the copyright infringement claim for some time and willfully failed to disclose it to investors before dumping their shares. Nobody would’ve bought interests in H2 had they realized the software it produced was illegal. I had a sneaking suspicion the twins had taken off for parts unknown. Sometimes guilty people didn’t want to risk going to jail and attempted to flee. O. J. Simpson had killed his ex-wife and her friend, then led cops on that ridiculous low-speed chase. Scott Peterson had bleached his hair a hideous shade of blond and tried to escape into Mexico after murdering his wife and unborn child.
Eek. Thoughts of those gruesome killings made me glad Lu and Nick had insisted I wear my ballistic vest, even if it was making my back sweat.
Nathan cleared his throat, his expression sheepish. “I spoke with the Hildebrand brothers earlier this morning.”
“And?” Shelia motioned impatiently with her hand for him to continue.
“I told them I didn’t appreciate them withholding information about the copyright claim. They could have cost me my CPA license.”
As angry as Nathan had been at the “freaky fuckers” last night, I’m guessing the exchange wasn’t exactly pleasant. Sheila shot me a look, apparently figuring out I’d been the one to tell Nathan about the new evidence against the Hildebrands. Still, I hadn’t thought Nathan would be stupid enough to confront them about it. He’d probably told them what I said about the handcuffs. If the Hildebrands knew for certain they’d be arrested at our meeting today, I suppose it was no surprise they’d decided not to join the party.
Five minutes later, Sheila’s patience was gone. She phoned her assistant at the SEC and instructed her to have marshals sent out to the Hildebrands’ residence and to notify the airlines, bus services, and law enforcement to be on the lookout for the brothers.
Macklin tried calling the brothers several more times with no luck.
Sheila and I gave them until noon to show.
They didn’t.
They were now officially federal fugitives.