WORD ABOUT PRINCESSS’S good-bye note had spread quickly through KIG. The employees had been prepared for the marriage, and they wondered how Tanner would take this blow. There was a great deal of speculation among the staff about what he would do after being jilted.
Two days after Tanner had received the letter, an item had appeared in the newspapers announcing that Tanner’s bride-to-be had married Edmond Barclay, a billionaire media tycoon. The only changes in Tanner Kingsley seemed to be an increased moodiness and a work ethic that was even stronger than it was before. Every morning he spent two hours alone, working on a project that was shrouded in secrecy.
ONE EVENING, TANNER was invited to speak at MENSA, the high-IQ society. Since many of the employees at KIG were members, he agreed to accept.
When Tanner came into headquarters the following morning, he was accompanied by one of the most beautiful women his staff had ever seen. She was Latin looking, with dark eyes, an olive complexion, and a sensational figure.
Tanner introduced her to the staff. “This is Sebastiana Cortez. She spoke at MENSA last night. She was brilliant.”
Tanner’s whole attitude suddenly seemed lighter. Tanner took Sebastiana into his office, and they did not reappear for more than an hour. After they came out, they had lunch in Tanner’s private dining room.
One of the employees looked up Sebastiana Cortez on the Internet. She was a former Miss Argentina, and her home was in Cincinnati, where she was married to a prominent businessman.
When Sebastiana and Tanner went back into his office after lunch, Tanner buzzed his secretary and told her to hold all calls. Moments later, Tanner’s voice could be heard in the reception room through the intercom, which had been left open.
“Don’t worry, darling. We’ll find a way to make it work.”
The secretaries started gathering around the intercom, eagerly listening to the conversation.
“We have to be very careful. My husband is a jealous man.”
“There’s no problem. I’ll make arrangements for us to keep in touch.”
It did not take a genius to figure out what was happening. The staff was amazed at how quickly he had gotten over Princess. It was all that the secretaries could do to keep from giggling.
“I’m sorry you have to go home just now.”
“I am, too. I wish I could stay, but—it can’t be helped.”
WHEN TANNER AND Sebastiana left the office, they were the picture of decorum. The staff took delight in the idea that Tanner had no clue they were aware of what was going on.
The day after Sebastiana departed, Tanner arranged for a phone, gilded in gold, to be installed in his office with a digital scrambler. His secretary and assistants had orders never to answer it.
From that time on, Tanner spoke on the gold phone almost every day, and at the end of each month, he went away for a long weekend and came back looking refreshed. He never told his staff where he had been, but they knew.
Two of Tanner’s aides were talking, and one of them said to the other, “Does the word rendezvous ring a bell?”
Tanner’s love life had started again, and the change in him was remarkable. Everybody was happy.
Chapter 19
THE WORDS KEPT echoing through Diane Stevens’s brain: This is Ron Jones. I just wanted to let you know that I received your paperwork and the change was made, just as you requested…. We cremated your husband’s body one hour ago.
How could the mortuary have made such a mistake? Lost in her grief, could she have called and asked them to cremate Richard? Never. And she had no secretary. None of it made any sense. Someone at the mortuary had misunderstood, confused Richard’s name with a similar name of another body at the mortuary.
They had delivered an urn with Richard’s ashes in it. Diane stood, staring at it. Was Richard really in there?…Was his laughter in there?…The arms that had held her close…the warm lips that had pressed against hers…the mind that had been so bright and funny…the voice that had said, “I love you”…were all his dreams and passions and a thousand more things in that little urn?
Diane’s thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.
“Mrs. Stevens?”
“Yes…”
“This is Tanner Kingsley’s office. Mr. Kingsley would appreciate it if he could make an appointment for you to come and meet with him.”
THAT HAD BEEN two days ago, and now Diane was walking through the entrance of KIG and approaching the reception desk.
The receptionist said, “May I help you?”
“My name is Diane Stevens. I have an appointment to see Tanner Kingsley.”
“Oh, Mrs. Stevens! We’re all so sorry about Mr. Stevens. What a terrible thing to happen. Terrible.”
Diane swallowed. “Yes.”
TANNER WAS TALKING to Retra Tyler. “I have two meetings coming up. Let’s do a complete scan on both of them.”
“Yes, sir.”
He watched his assistant leave.
The intercom buzzed. “Mrs. Stevens is here to see you, Mr. Kingsley.”
Tanner pressed one of the buttons on the electronic panel on his desk and Diane Stevens appeared on a wall television screen. Her blonde hair was tied back in a knot, and she was wearing a white and navy pinstriped skirt, and a white blouse. She looked pale.
“Send her in, please.”
He watched Diane walk in the door and rose to greet her. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Stevens.”
Diane nodded. “Good morning.”
“Please, sit down.”
Diane took a chair across from his desk.
“Needless to say, all of us were shocked by your husband’s brutal murder. You can be sure that whoever is responsible will be brought to justice as quickly as possible.”
Ashes…
“If you don’t mind, I would like to ask you a few questions.”
“Yes?”
“Did your husband often discuss his work with you?”
Diane shook her head. “Not really. It was a separate part of our life together because it was so technical.”
In the surveillance room down the hall, Retra Tyler had turned on a voice recognition machine, a voice stress analyzer, and a television recorder, and was taping the scene taking place in Tanner’s office.
“I know how difficult it must be for you to discuss this,” Tanner said, “but how much do you know about your husband’s connection with drugs?”
Diane was staring at him, too dumbfounded to speak. Finally, she found her voice. “What—what are you asking? Richard never would have had anything to do with drugs.”
“Mrs. Stevens, the police found a threatening note from the Mafia in his pocket, and—”
The idea of Richard being involved with drugs was unthinkable. Could Richard have had a secret life that she knew nothing about? No, no, no.
Diane’s heart began to pound, and she felt the blood rushing to her face. They killed him to punish me. “Mr. Kingsley, Richard didn’t—”
Tanner’s tone was sympathetic, but at the same time determined. “I’m so sorry to put you through this, but I fully intend to get to the bottom of what happened to your husband.”
I’m the bottom, Diane thought, miserably. I’m the one you’re looking for. Richard died because I testified against Altieri. She was beginning to hyperventilate.
Tanner Kingsley was watching her. He said, “I won’t keep you, Mrs. Stevens. I can see how upset you are. We’ll talk again later. Perhaps there’s something you’ll remember. If you think of anything that might be helpful, I would appreciate it if you would call me.” Tanner reached into a drawer and pulled out an embossed business card. “This has my private cell phone number on it. You can reach me day or night.”
Diane took the card. All that was on it was Tanner’s name and a number.
Diane rose, her legs trembling.
“I apologize for having to put you through this. In the meantime, if there is anything that I can do for you—anything you need, I am at your service.”
Diane was barely able to speak. “Thank you. I—thank you.” She turned and walked out of the office, numb.
As Diane reached the reception room, she heard the woman behind the desk speaking to someone else. “If I were a superstitious person, I would think someone had put a curse on KIG. And now your husband, Mrs. Harris. We were all so shocked to hear about the dreadful thing that happened to him. To die like that is just awful.”
The words sounded ominously familiar to Diane. What had happened to the woman’s husband? Diane turned to see whom the receptionist was addressing. It was a stunning-looking, young African-American woman, dressed in black slacks and a silk turtleneck sweater. On her finger was a large emerald ring and a diamond wedding ring. Diane had a sudden feeling that it was important that she speak to her.
As Diane started to approach her, Tanner’s secretary came in. “Mr. Kingsley will see you now.”