Dead in a Week (Forensic Instincts 7)

Marc absorbed all that information, watching as the nervous man fingered the cash in his pocket. Apparently, it reassured him, because he nodded again.

There was another brief round of conversation between him and Danijel.

“The informant asked for a few days,” Derica said. “Danijel refused. He said that time is of the essence and he expected a meeting with the informant and his uncle by early morning. He said that you and he would meet them in Osijek at the location of their choice.”

Marc knew from Terri’s report that Osijek was the capital and largest city in Slavonia, and that it was less than a three-hour drive from Zagreb. Of course, there was also a forty-five minute direct plane flight between the two cities, but that might be tricky to pull off without producing proper ID—something that would be an impossibility for both Danijel and the informant, each with different needs for anonymity.

“I’m a fast driver,” Philip said in Marc’s ear. “Even dawn is more than doable.”

Inwardly, Marc nodded. Outwardly, he stood quietly as the informant responded to Danijel.

The chief inspector inclined his head at Marc. “I’ll hear from him within the hour,” he reported. “I don’t expect any complications. As for the rest of my conversation, I’m sure you already heard all the details from your interpreter. So go back to the hotel and wait for my call. Be ready to drive.”

19

NanoUSA

28 February

Wednesday, 2:25 p.m. local time

Simone was standing at Jen’s desk, waiting to determine Robert’s calendar for the end of the week, when Jen got the call from Zoe.

“Excuse me,” Jen said to her. “Hi, Zoe, what do you need?”

A minute later she was all smiles, coming to her feet and scooping up her handbag. Clearly, she’d received some happy news.

“Can we go over Robert’s schedule later?” she asked Simone, although it really wasn’t a question. “I have to cover Zoe’s desk.”

Something about Jen’s overly enthusiastic response gave Simone pause. She glanced at the flowers on Jen’s desk, took in her radiant expression, and a realization clicked into place.

“No problem,” she assured the young woman. “What time will Zoe’s meeting be over?”

“Oh, she isn’t going into a meeting, not this time. She’s heading home—splitting migraine. I’m just manning her desk to field any problems that might come up to the best of my ability.”

Even as Jen spoke, Zoe exited her office, carrying a slim file folder and her purse. She looked more like a woman on a mission than a woman with a headache. And leaving the office in the middle of the day? Zoe, who lived for and at Nano? Not likely.

Zoe nodded as she passed Jen, walking by Simone without really seeing her. Clearly, her mind was locked onto something. The question was: what?

Simone waited until Zoe had left the executive suite, her heels clicking purposefully on the marble floor as she headed toward the outside doors.

Then she followed her.

Jake’s Bar & Cocktail Lounge

28 February

Wednesday, 2:55 p.m. local time

David was waiting for Zoe in the lounge area when she arrived. He rose from behind one of the red leather couches that catty-cornered a second one, both clustered around a polished oak table, and waved her over.

She acknowledged that she’d seen him with a responding wave, then bypassed the bar and made her way over to him.

“It’s great to see you,” David said, gesturing at the adjacent couch. “Please, sit.”

Zoe complied, her brows lifting as she saw the bottle of champagne chilling on ice. “Confident, aren’t we?”

“Actually, yes,” he replied. “And not because I’m arrogant. Because I know you’ll make the ideal addition to Franklin Wales. You’ll see that for yourself once you’ve read over our offer.”