Fear No Evil(Alex Cross #29)(5)

Chapter





6




Across the Potomac River, in an Arlington office tower, Bree Stone knocked on the door to the conference room and entered. Five people waited for her at the table. Four were women, two in their late twenties and two in their forties. All were dressed for business. The lone male was silver-haired, craggily handsome, and dressed impeccably in a bespoke blue suit, starched white shirt, and red tie with teal polka dots.

“Bree Stone,” he said in a British accent, standing to shake her hand. “Good to finally meet you in person.”

“Desmond Slattery,” she said, returning the smile. “When did you fly in?”

“I caught the red-eye from Heathrow,” he said.

“And here you are, not a hair out of place.”

“Got to keep the reputation clean,” he said and chuckled.

The petite, fortyish brunette at the head of the table said, “Sit anywhere you’d like, Bree.”

Elena Martin, the founder and president of Bluestone Group, was one of the smartest women Bree had ever met, a super-dynamo who needed less than five hours of sleep a night. A former analyst and investigator with the Defense Intelligence Agency, Martin was also an entrepreneurial visionary; after leaving the military, she quickly built Bluestone into one of the top private-security firms in the country by aggressively recruiting and hiring highly respected law enforcement professionals like Bree.

After taking a seat next to Slattery—a former inspector at Scotland Yard—Bree smiled at the other women at the table, whom she’d never seen before.

Elena Martin introduced the other woman in her forties as Patricia Nolan.

“Ms. Nolan is corporate counsel at Pegasus International,” Elena Martin said. “Do you know the company?”

Bree shook her head.

Nolan smiled. “Not surprising. We’re a hedge fund that prides itself on its low profile. We’re incorporated in Delaware with offices on Wall Street and in Paris.”

The president of Bluestone said to Bree, “I’ve told them you speak fluent French with a Caribbean accent.”

Bree nodded. “My mother was from Saint Martin.”

“I also told them you are one of our star investigators, and they wanted to meet you in person.”

“I’m delighted, and I appreciate the confidence, Elena,” Bree said. Nolan introduced her to the two younger women, and Bree reached across the table to shake their hands.

When she sat back, she glanced at Slattery and saw a slightly sour look on his face. He obviously considered himself one of Bluestone’s star investigators as well. For a second, Bree wondered why Slattery hadn’t gotten this assignment, then pushed the thought aside. She smiled at the clients. “How can I be of service?”

Anna Tuttle, an attractive, sandy-blond young woman in a blue business suit, said, “You can help us get our son-of-a-bitch CEO fired.”

Cassie Dane, a buxom redhead with porcelain-pale skin and ice-green eyes, said in a sweet Southern accent, “Or, better yet, put Philippe’s ass in prison with men who will not be kind or gentle.”

“There’s something I should explain first, Ms. Stone,” the corporate attorney said. “I am here at the request of the board of directors of Pegasus to determine whether our founder, CEO, and chairman Philippe Abelmar is guilty of sexual harassment—”

“He definitely is,” Anna Tuttle said.

“And a serial abuser of women—”

“That too,” Cassie Dane said, her cheeks reddening.

“And quite possibly an embezzler,” Nolan said.

Tuttle looked a little disgusted as she nodded to Bree. “We appreciate Ms. Nolan being here, really, we do, but just so you understand, the rumors of sexual harassment have been flying around Philippe forever. And yet it wasn’t until the suspicions about missing money surfaced that the Pegasus board decided to hire someone to investigate.”

Nolan’s jaw stiffened. “Philippe Abelmar is a powerful, charismatic man, and France is a different country with different moral views than our own. But I admit he held sway over the board despite the rumors about his inappropriate activities until they saw evidence that he may have siphoned off as much as four hundred million dollars.”

“Four hundred million?” Bree said, her brows rising.

“See?” Tuttle said to Dane. “It’s all anyone cares about.”

The Southern belle pushed back a wayward lock of red hair and shrugged. “I honestly don’t give a damn what finally drug ’em to the dance, Anna. I just want that man’s testicles in a vise. And maybe some public shaming while we’re at it.”

Slattery winced at the testicles-in-a-vise comment before clearing his throat and looking at Pegasus’s corporate counsel. “My specialty at Scotland Yard was economic crimes and forensic accounting. I’ll be working the money end of things in Manhattan and London.”

Tuttle said, “London’s where I worked after Paris.”

“Where we all worked after Paris, hon,” Cassie Dane said.





Chapter





7




The three women explained to Bree how it worked at Pegasus. Recruiters in the company’s Wall Street offices tended to choose pretty Ivy League co-eds for their internship programs.