Lance shook his head. “That can’t be right.”
“I’m afraid it is.” Tony rushed to dispel any thoughts of questioning him. “The only logical explanation is Perry found out and paid for his loyalty to this company with his life.”
“I can’t believe this,” Jeff said.
“You’re lucky it wasn’t you. My guess is you were next.” Tony thought back to the last document he had created. “I guess that explains why he sent me the memo asking for the corporate retreat. To get all of you out there and provide cover as he hid his hand in this.”
“But then who killed Mark?” Lance flattened his hand against the table and leaned forward as he talked.
He still wore the sling from the injury he’d sustained in the woods. Something about a sniper or a rigged gun. Tony didn’t know about any of that but planned to find out.
Tony shrugged. “My guess is Perry.”
That was the new plan—implicate both men. Invent a scenario where they turned on each other. Mark lost in his lying and Perry trying to get at the truth. It played well, and Tony found it easier than continuing to hide the losses.
He could spin this into betrayal and vow to fix the corporate tendency that led to it. Overhaul the whole reporting process and means of calculating overhead.
In the end, the ruse could streamline the company and preserve the bottom line. And that would secure his position and the bonuses he needed.
But Lance didn’t appear to be buying the story. The lowest man on the corporate leadership ladder kept shaking his head, skepticism apparent on his face. “This is going round in circles.”
“The important thing is we’re back on track.” The man would need convincing, and Tony vowed to do just that. But not today. They all needed to stand down and get some breathing room on this. Tony also needed to handle Connor and the Corcoran Team, which looked like it could be a full-time job. “These men’s families deserve to believe in them. We’ll walk a careful line, clean this up and move on.”
“The board is in agreement with that strategy?” Jeff asked.
“We’ll work it out. Everything will be legal and transparent, but respectful to the dead.” As soon as he had a report to present Tony would start that process.
The board, reeling from the loss of two executives, wasn’t pressuring him for anything other than answers about their deaths. The financial issue wasn’t on their radar. He’d put it there but in his own way. The way he needed it to look.
“In the meantime, you two should take a week. To the extent you need any assistance in terms of counseling or additional medical issues, Baxter will, of course, cover everything.”
“Thanks,” Jeff said, but Lance stayed quiet.
They’d all had enough for one night, and the next few days would be rough. There were funerals to plan and a story to spin out. “Now go home.”
With a minimum of shuffling, both men got up. They exchanged thank you’s and shook hands before he sent them out the door. Tony gritted his teeth through the entire spiel. He wasn’t accustomed to explaining anything to anyone. He gave orders and people followed them. Now with Mark gone and the information buried with him, Tony could get back to the business of running Baxter.
Through the glass door, he saw Lance and Jeff head out for the night. Tony waved and smiled even as the cell in his jacket pocket buzzed for the fourth time in less than a half hour. He knew who was calling. Knew and ignored it because this was the one problem he hadn’t counted on.
Tony glanced at the cell screen. He recognized the number because it had popped up all day. The texts, the voicemails. If his unwanted partner was trying to create a discoverable trail, he was doing a great job. The covert part of their relationship seemed to be confusing the man at the moment.
Tony would explain and set it straight, but not now. He needed a few minutes of quiet to think.
The man would come calling soon. And Tony would be ready.
Chapter Thirteen
The next morning Joel watched Connor do the two things he did every day—sit at the head of a conference room table and pour coffee. Only today, the table wasn’t his table, and neither was the business. This office space and all the resources they needed were on loan from Algier Security, but that didn’t seem to faze Connor or make him look any less in charge.
He poured a cup for Hope, then dropped the pot on the tray in front of him, leaving Davis and Joel to fend for themselves. After a night in Hope’s bed, making love with her, holding her, Joel didn’t need the kick.
But Connor was a caffeine addict. Could put away a pot in an hour and keep going back all day. Joel often wondered if he slept.