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“I got the information confirmed to me,” said Tom, “just now. By phone.” He held his up, and his eyes glanced at the cell I had in my hand. Was it just a coincidence that my phone wasn’t working on the day of the meeting? Either way, I had to get back to Alicia. Adrenaline had begun to pump through my body.
“I’m leaving,” I said. “This was a trap, to begin with. But if you’d like to discuss this further, you can call an emergency shareholder’s meeting in L.A. to discuss it.”
I walked out of the room. “But … the meeting,” said Tom.
“Like I said. Call the shareholders. And call your lawyer, Tom.”
I stepped out of the room and got into the elevator. Inside it was cool, and air-conditioned. I looked impatiently at my phone. Alicia was going to kill me when she realized I hadn’t called.
There was no doubt about it now. I finally understood what had been happening. Someone had somehow gotten the news of Alicia’s pregnancy to Tom. And that someone had to be Patricia.
Down in the lobby, I asked for the parking valet to bring my car up from the garage downstairs. As I did, I noticed the receptionist at the desk peering at me.
“Can I help you, miss?” I said, audibly irritated.
“Sorry, sir,” she said.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I didn’t mean to snap.” I was under so much pressure right now I felt like the world was about to crack.
“It’s just, are you, uh, Mr. Ryder?”
“The very same,” I said drily. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, it’s just,” she said, reaching under the desk, “someone called with an envelope for you. UPS. They left about ten minutes ago.”
“Strange,” I muttered. “Did they say who it was from?”
“No, sir,” she said, taking out the envelope. “It’s not marked. It’s not company policy to give out unmarked mail delivered like this to clients and guests. But, I guess, what’s the harm? Not like it could be a bomb or anything.”
“I guess not,” I said. I looked at the envelope. It was made of thick, white cardstock, the kind you’d send a wedding invitation in.
I opened the letter, and began to read:
I hope the meeting went well, Jake.
I see Alicia is at home today. 31, Cranefield Road.
I’ll see you soon.
Iranoutofthe building and got to my car. By the time I finally picked up a new phone, it was almost evening. I pulled over to the side of the road and dialed Alicia’s cellphone number.
“Hello?” she said. Her voice sounded frail and weak.
“Alicia?” I cried. “Where are you?”
“What’s going on? Why didn’t you call?”
“Where are you? Tell meright now!” I wanted to make sure she was okay—that no one had gotten to her.
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then, Alicia spoke. She sounded pissed off.
“Why didn’t you call, Jake? You promised you would. I was waiting for you.”
“No, Alicia, you don’t understand. Someone hacked my phone. It’s the same person who’s been threatening us. Tom. Tom McLaughlin, my business partner.”
“I don’t know if I can believe that, Jake.”
“Alicia, you’ve got to. Look, I’ll come by your house as soon as I get back into the city.”
