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Back ramrod-stiff, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Swearing under his breath, Zach pulled into the parking lot of the headquarters of Danvers International. The lot was closed, but he used a special card and the gates opened as if for royalty. Danvers royalty.
He hadn’t been happy about leaving the hotel, knowing that Adria would probably bolt, but he’d talked to Detective Stinson to advise her and knew that Adria was keeping in touch with the police. Right now, Zach had to find answers and any he’d gotten from Jason on the telephone had been evasive and vague. He’d called, tracked his brother to the offices, and decided that if he had to, he’d knock Jason senseless, because it was time to find out the truth.
Before he fouled up Adria’s life forever.
Spoiling for a fight, he parked in a spot reserved for a vice president and took the elevator to the floor housing the suite of executive offices. During the day the building was crawling with people; at night it seemed like a tomb.
He walked down the short hallway lit only by security lamps, past the empty reception area, and through the carved wooden doors to the president’s office.
Jason, dressed in a crisp suit and tie, was sprawled on the leather couch angled in front of the television in the corner. He must’ve had one helluva day, because his hair was slightly mussed and his tie was loosened. Propping one heel on a glass coffee table, he sipped from a glass of amber liquid.
Zach let the door bang shut behind him and studied the room where all the important decisions of the company were made. The two exterior walls were glass, offering a panoramic view of blazing city lights and two bridges spanning the Willamette River.
Inside, trophies and plaques were hung on a wall of rough cedar, a tribute to the forests that had been the source of so much of the Danvers fortune.
“You’re angry,” Jason guessed as he stood and tucked his shirt into the waistband of his slacks.
The understatement of the year. “A little.”
“Adria?” Jason clicked off the television and reached for his drink.
“She’s got a mind of her own.”
“Thought you liked that in a woman.”
“Not in this one.”
Jason lifted a skeptical brow.
“Heard she was attacked. Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine.”
“Do the police have any suspects?”
“Probably.”
“What does your friend Len Barry have to say?” Jason asked, feigning disinterest.
“Nothing.”
“Isn’t that odd?”
“Of course not. The police will get in contact with Adria when they have something.”
“And she’ll tell you?”
Zach shrugged. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Like hell.”
“Help yourself to the bar.”
“Not tonight.” Propping his hip on the corner of Jason’s wide desk, he said, “I just came here because I want to get in contact with Sweeny.”
