Chapter 14

 

Pen leaped away from the door to Holbrook’s private office only moments before it opened and Clint walked back into the conference room. She’d caught a glimpse of the name, Derek Woo, on his phone’s screen before he excused himself.

“I was just admiring this painting,” she said, pointing to a large canvas on the wall. “Van Gogh?” Actually, a very cheap knockoff.

He nodded vaguely. “Yeah, I think so. My wife’s the real decorator, actually.”

Pen didn’t think so but she kept her mouth shut. She hadn’t liked the man from first sight—his oily smile, the overt salesman-like conversation. Twenty years ago he’d probably been a good-looking man but he’d let himself become jowly with a big paunch, and the way he combed his hair straight back from the forehead did nothing to lessen the disturbing way his eyes bulged and his meaty lips pursed. For someone as young as Kaycie Marlow, the attraction had to be all about the money.

“So, are there any questions I can answer for you about Holbrook Construction?” he asked, reaching for the red and white folder on the table and handing it to her.

Pen gave the most sincere smile she could work up. “As long as all the information is included here, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

She stood aside while he opened the door to the corridor, noting when they passed Tamara’s desk that the secretary had left. The overhead lights were off, leaving two small lamps burning in the reception area. Holbrook showed her to the door and she rode the elevator alone. Her heart didn’t slow down until the elevator dinged at the ground floor.

Interesting bits of the puzzle, she thought. It reminded her of plotting one of her books—take a lot of little, separate pieces and put them together until the whole picture emerges. She smiled.

When she’d arrived in the lobby twenty minutes earlier, she’d been greeted at a large semi-circular desk by two uniformed guards who asked that she sign in and be issued a Visitor badge. She paused there now to return it.

“So, the entire building houses Holbrook Construction?” she asked casually, as she signed out.

“No, ma’am,” said the guard with the name R. Sanchez on his shirt. “Most of it’s a big stock brokerage company. Being the weekend, that’s why no one’s around.”

“Holbrook?” the other guard said. “He only moved in here a year or so ago.”

“But he built the building, didn’t he?” She feigned a naïve expression.

Both men chuckled. “Don’t know where you got that,” Sanchez said. “This place was built at least ten years ago. The construction company you’re talking about, I’m sure they had nothing to do with this place being built.”

Pen shrugged. “Obviously, I got the wrong impression somewhere.”

Another puzzle piece, not a surprising one.

She retrieved her Mercedes from the parking garage across the street and sat a moment, deciding what to do next. A quiet dinner at home had been her original plan, but she was eager to share the new information she’d gleaned with the Ladies. Would any of them be available?

She phoned Sandy first.

“It’s too soon to call everyone together again,” Pen said, “but I did gain a few interesting tidbits from my visit to Holbrook’s office. Would you like to meet for dinner somewhere or perhaps come to my house?”

“If it’s not too far out of your way,” Sandy said, “come by my place instead. I just made a chicken dish with a tangy mustard and asiago sauce. There’s plenty for two.”

While Pen would have loved to settle into her own home, out of her linen dress and jewelry, a glass of wine in hand, the idea of a ready-made dinner with Sandy appealed as well.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“How did the book signing go?” Sandy asked when she opened the door.

“Quite well.” Pen held up the bottle of wine given as a thank-you by the bookseller. “Thank goodness I’ve got past the days when two people showed up and I read chapters to a room devoid of interest.”

“Now, you probably sign books until your hand has a cramp,” Sandy said, leading the way to the kitchen where the scent of the mushroom-chicken dish was heavenly.

Pen laughed. “Sometimes. This new book seems to be well received. Good reviews in the press and nearly rapt attention as I read my sample chapters. Would it be all right if I stepped out of these shoes? I’m seldom in heels for more than a couple of hours nowadays.”

“Be my guest. I’d be happy to provide a kimono if you want to really dress down.”

“That’s all right. Pour the wine and over dinner I’ll fill you in on my visit to Clint Holbrook’s offices.” She pulled the proposal folder from her roomy bag and set it on Sandy’s countertop. “This might make for interesting reading. A quick glance before I left his office didn’t make sense to me, but you’ll have Amber’s findings for comparison.”

“Should be fascinating.” Sandy handed Pen a glass. “Cheers.”

Pen carried hers to the place Sandy indicated at the kitchen table. The chicken dish, buttered noodles and fresh broccoli looked wonderful; she hadn’t realized how hungry she’d become. They tucked into the meal without a word for several minutes.

“So?” Sandy asked when Pen paused for a moment.

“Well, the offices themselves are an interesting dichotomy. On the surface of it, the décor is tasteful enough, but something’s off. It’s as if he called Interiors R Us or something. I don’t get the feeling he had a hand in choosing anything in the place. For instance, I commented on one painting and he told me his wife had chosen it. It was one of those starving-artist things of a flower arrangement, and he thought it was a real Van Gogh.”

“Seriously?”

“The furniture, as well. It’s real wood and real leather, but so generic. All of it could be …”

“Leased?”

Pen brightened. “Exactly. There is nothing personal in the place. Something else—we walked down a corridor toward his conference room, closed doors the whole way, which he chalked up to its being a weekend so no one was working. Perhaps. But the place had a hollow feel to it.”

“And yet his company occupies two full floors of the building.”

“Oh, that’s another thing. I gossiped a little with building security at the front desk. They said there’s no possibility Holbrook Construction built the high-rise. It’s been there much longer than Clint lets on.”

“Why would he do that?” Sandy pondered, offering seconds on the veggies.

“Why indeed?” Pen turned down the offer of more food, although everything was cooked perfectly and tasted delicious.

“There’s more,” she said. “While we were in the conference room, Clint received a phone call from his lawyer, Derek Woo. I saw the name on his phone. He went into his office to take it but the door is so cheaply made I could hear most of what was said.” She blushed slightly. “Of course, I followed him and pressed my ear up to it.”

Sandy laughed at the image.

“Mr. Woo apparently advised Clint to begin moving money somewhere. There were references to setting up bank accounts ‘over there’ and Clint wonders if that will be a problem.”

“Over where, I wonder. We still don’t know.”

“Actually, as of now, we do. There were little signs of evidence around the place, some travel brochures, a phrase book, and two letters on the fax machine on his secretary’s desk. They’re going to China.”

“China!” Sandy looked dumbfounded.

“I know. I’d assumed, if it wasn’t somewhere in Canada or Mexico, it might be Europe. But this explains the need for visas, which wouldn’t have made sense for most other places.”

“The letter I saw most clearly was addressed to Shanghai.” Pen watched Sandy’s reaction.

“I’m stunned. Construction in China is notorious for always being done domestically. It’s still a fairly closed society to outsiders. I can’t imagine why they would want an American contractor.”

“A fairly new, inexperienced American contractor …”

“Yes …” Sandy’s attention seemed focused somewhere in the distance. “There has to be more to it.”

“It could possibly be a personal trip disguised as business so Clint can write off the whole thing.” Pen passed along the remarks, as nearly verbatim as she remembered, about fishing trips and the hint of seeing prostitutes. “Which is also strange. He’s taking his wife along. I distinctly heard him tell Woo that he and Kaycie were joining him at the destination on Friday.”

“This coming Friday?” Sandy’s eyes widened. “That doesn’t give us much time.”