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"Good. Next question—what about Hager? When do you want to meet with him again?"
"Meet with him or push him to the wall?" Jeannie muttered. It was a rhetorical question, since she knew full well what the answer was. "Yeah, you're right. It's about time we stopped dancing around him. We're getting nowhere fast. How about late today? We'll call and set up an official appointment. That'll give Hager a whole afternoon to sweat over what we want."
"Let's not give the same heads-up to Ferguson," Frank said. "With him, it's better that we just drop in. I have a gut feeling that, if anyone would crack under the pressure of a surprise attack, he's the guy to do it."
"Fine. No preparation time there. We'll just make an appointment with Hager and do a drop-in on Ferguson." Jeannie reached for the phone on Frank's desk.
Simultaneously, her cell phone rang.
She punched the send button. "Whitman." Her brows lifted slightly. "Well, hello." A pause. "Really. Yes, I understand. Any more details you want to give me? Okay, fine. We'll be there. You're welcome."
She pressed end and turned to Frank. "You're never going to believe this one."
"Try me."
"That was Carson Brooks. Apparently, there's going to be a company-wide announcement at five-thirty today, informing the entire staff of Ruisseau that Sabrina Radcliffe is his daughter. He's making the announcement himself, via a prerecorded videotape, from his hospital bed. He asked us to be at Ruisseau when the tape is played—for protection purposes."
"Protection." Frank digested that information thoughtfully. "I wonder if Brooks is afraid his daughter will be mauled by the press, or if his fears run deeper than that."
"You know the answer to that, Frank. Brooks is as perceptive as they come. He's well aware that there's a killer out there somewhere, one with a motive we still haven't identified. I'm sure he's also aware that that killer might try again, in any number of ways. One is to go for Brooks directly, which isn't likely as long as he's in Mount Sinai with round-the-clock police protection. The other is to go at him through his daughter."
"Especially if that daughter is about to officially acquire an extremely powerful role at Ruisseau."
"Which you can bet she is. She's smart, she's successful, and she's his flesh and blood. It's a no-brainer."
"Agreed. So if Brooks's shooting was in any way related to his position at Ruisseau, today's announcement might instigate the shooter."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But it's clear that Brooks doesn't want to take any chances."
"I don't blame him."
"Me either." Jeannie crumpled up the empty Milk Duds box and tossed it into the trash. "And to think this morning started off ordinary."
"Whatever ordinary means these days." Frank pushed back his chair and rose. "This also solves our problem about when to meet with Hager and Ferguson. We'll be at Ruisseau at five-thirty anyway."
"We sure will." A gleam of anticipation lit Jeannie's eyes. "Except that we'll get there early and surprise them."
1:45 P.M.
Ruisseau Fragrance Corporation
Sabrina tried Stan's extension to see if he was ready for their lunch.
Lunch. If you wanted to call it that. Donna had ordered in sandwiches, which were being delivered to Sabrina's office sometime within the next half hour. That gave Sabrina forty-five minutes before her meeting with R&D. Forty-five minutes to broach the subject of Stan's discomfort around her and break the news of today's announcement, in between bites of a turkey sandwich she had to wolf down since she hadn't eaten a thing all day.
Talk about a fast-paced agenda.
Then again, why should lunch be different than the rest of the day had been?
Sabrina dropped her head in her hands and massaged her temples.
Her morning had been a soap opera. First, there'd been the conversation with her mother. Gloria had taken the news of Sabrina's donor compatibility with her usual controlled dignity. But Sabrina could hear the tremor in her voice, and she knew her mother was frightened. She'd tried soothing her to the best of her ability, but there were no guarantees she could offer. Nor did Gloria request any. She just told Sabrina she was behind her, and said she'd fly to New York as soon as the press—and her parents—were under control.
Which led Sabrina into Act Two: the drama with her grandparents.
Abigail and Charles Radcliffe had been beside themselves, despite whatever groundwork Gloria had laid. Sabrina's grandmother had wept; her grandfather had lectured. They both had practically pleaded with her to reconsider donating her kidney to a man she barely knew.
It had taken close to an hour to get through to them, to make them understand even on a basic, fundamental level why she had to do this. And, no, telling them about her newly acquired position at Ruisseau hadn't helped. They'd been so worked up, they'd scarcely paid attention to her announcement, much less focused on the prestige it denoted.
