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Playing on Rhinehart’s paranoia would be Jules’s gateway.
When they were all seated and one of Schrader’s servants had served coffee and then left, Omar nodded toward Rhinehart. “Do you have questions before we begin our talks?”
“A few.” A gleam in his eyes, Rhinehart gave Humphrey an assessing gaze. “Tell me about your product.”
“It was created to cure a blood disease, but an enterprising young scientist realized that with a few elemental changes, it could be made into an odorless, almost invisible substance. One drop can kill a grown man within a matter of seconds.”
“How is it distributed?”
“In any way you like. We used a spray bottle for our experiment, but a canister introduced into an air vent could reach hundreds.”
“This scientist who created the weapon, where is he now?”
“She is no longer alive. The product is mine exclusively.”
“I see. While a canister sounds quite intriguing, I am looking for—how should I say it?—more bang for my buck.”
There was no mistaking Rhinehart’s meaning. He wanted to kill more than just a few hundred people. If she and Ash didn’t end the man here and now, he would find some way, somehow, to accomplish his goal.
“With the formula, you should be able to create as much as you like. But you also must understand that if you’re going to offer an amount that would keep me from auctioning it off, it’s going to need to be substantial.”
“How does three hundred million sound?”
There was complete silence after everyone took a startled breath. That was double what Ash had told Jules he’d proposed to Omar.
Before anyone could question the stunning amount, Rhinehart went on to explain, “As you might guess, I am not in good health. I fear I will soon be unable to make the impact I’ve always longed to make. This would be my swan song, you might say.”
Humphrey gave a cold smile. “It would be a song for the ages.”
“Excellent. So do we have a deal?”
“Omar”—Humphrey turned to Schrader—“what do you think?”
“I don’t believe you would get near that amount at auction.”
“I concur. Very well. I will—”
Jules felt the slightest nudge from Ash and knew this was her cue. She leaned over to him and, in a loud, urgent whisper, said, “Did you just hear a helicopter?”
All eyes zeroed in on Elsa, but it was Rhinehart who said, “What did you say?”
She gave him a polite smile but directed her question to Schrader. “Do you have a helicopter, Omar?”
Not yet catching on, Omar sent her a polite, distracted smile and shook his head. “No. I am not a fan of flying. Anywhere I need to go, I prefer to drive. So, gentlemen, do we have a deal? I’d like to—”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rhinehart stiffen. “Why did you ask the question, Ms. Olsen?” His voice held more than a shade of suspicion.
All innocence, Elsa shrugged. “I thought I heard a helicopter.”
Building on that theme, Humphrey sent Omar a concerned look. “You know, I thought I heard something, too. Perhaps there’s an airfield close by?”
Rhinehart’s entire body went stiff with fury. “Have you betrayed me, Omar?”
His eyes round and startled behind his glasses, Schrader shook his head. “Of course not. I would never—”
“Then why did we all hear a helicopter?” Rhinehart asked.
“You heard it, too?” Omar started to rise. “Perhaps I should—”
