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Qasim’s repetition of the fact made Will flinch as though the words were a slap.
“I wouldn’t buy it when they came to me with their suspicions,” Sim continued. “I got pretty upset. It wasn’t a good scene. I told ’em to leave it alone, but oversight committees...” He winced. “They don’t always listen. As you can see—” he nodded toward the pages scattered at Will’s feet “—the docs in that folder look like duplicates, and they are—invoices of charges connected to foundation events. Only one shows the charge actually quoted by the vendors minus the little service fee you quoted to us. They got us to take another look at those exorbitant rates quoted by our usual hotels. Turns out they didn’t go up nearly as much as we first thought—or were told.”
Will moved to the edge of his chair. “Sim—”
“Save it. They asked me to fire you not long after I hired you, but I let you stay because I wanted you in jail and suffering in all those ways they love to make you suffer there.” Qasim left the desk and began to prowl the far side of the office.
“I knew your ego would get the better of you and we’d be on our way to having you good and tight once you had that signing doc, but then Minka figured your act. And then you had the nerve to threaten her.”
“I never—”
“And I couldn’t have you stick around after that.” Qasim scratched the whiskers shading his jaw. “Your office is being cleaned out. Everything will be stacked up nice and neat by the time your lawyer gets you released.”
“Released!” Will bolted from the chair, sputtering the word.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be in there nearly as long as you deserve.”
“Sim—”
“Get out of my sight.”
A hard knock followed the order. Two uniformed guards looked into the office.
“You done, sir?” one of the men queried.
Qasim threw up a hand. “Completely. Thanks, guys.”
Will jerked off the hold when he was secured. Qasim raised a hand to stay the guards.
“You owe me, Sim!”
“What? A job wasn’t good enough?”
“For what I did? No way!”
Qasim smirked. “So why didn’t you just ask me for money instead of taking money from those kids? I’d have given it to you.”
“Self-righteous idiot.” Will sneered. “You probably wanted to crap bricks when I saved your life. A nobody like me.”
“We were all nobodies.” Qasim gave a mystified shrug. “Why’d you track me down? Was it really the hard-luck story you gave me two years back, or did you just want to bring me down a few?”
Will remained belligerent. “There was enough in those expense accounts alone. I never took a dime away from the special accounts for your brats.”
“And that makes it all right?”
Will balled his fists, punching out at the air. “Damn that wench, Minka!”
“You’re a dead man if you go near her.” Qasim’s cool veneer turned noticeably rigid.
Will feigned surprise. “Should I tell my lawyer I’ve just been threatened?”
“You’ve been guaranteed. Guys?” Qasim called to his guards. “Do I stand by my guarantees?”
“Absolutely, sir,” the men chimed in enthusiastic smugness.
One of the guards opened the office door. The other waved a hand before Will.
“Sir?” the man prodded.
Qasim maintained his barely restrained anger until the guards had escorted Will from the office. Alone, Qasim spent long moments inhaling and working tight knots of frustration from his neck and shoulders. He tried to ease Will’s betrayal to the back of his mind, but only found his temper stirring more as a result. Finally, he realized only one thing—one woman—had the power to settle whatever riled him.
* * *
If Oscar Bauer thought it strange that his daughter called suddenly to request information on his potential retirement digs along the Italian coast, he made no indication of it.
Vectra was glad since she didn’t really know what to make of it herself. The word “coward” came to mind, but she didn’t begrudge it. Leaving for Lake Misurina, Italy, may have been a touch much, but her father had asked her to make the trip, hadn’t he?
Of course, Vectra knew that wasn’t why she suddenly insisted on snagging a flight and leaving the house two hours after Qasim’s heated departure. No doubt he’d been enraged, she thought, recalling the livid glint in his midnight gaze when he’d stormed out. A flurry of vile curses had streamed after him.
Leaving the way she had hadn’t been necessary, but she’d panicked. Old memories hastened her departure in spite of the fact that a trip was already in her immediate future. After Italy, she’d be headed to Miami, where she’d oversee the final preparations for Yancey Croachman’s next showing. There wouldn’t be much to handle, she knew. Once the artist’s vision for the first show was underway, the Miami staff would take its cues from the event. The follow-up show wouldn’t require nearly as much extensive planning.
