Dead in a Week (Forensic Instincts 7)

“That’s an odd question.”

“I’m just trying to establish if there are any potential interactions that could negatively impact the productivity of Vance’s department. Remember, it’s not your department I’m evaluating—it’s his. I certainly mean no disrespect. So if you’d rather not answer…”

“I’ll answer,” he replied. “Vance and I respect each other as colleagues. We have for all the years we’ve worked at Nano. We don’t socialize outside of the office, but we work well together. Does that address your concerns?”

“It does.” Testy, Simone thought. Very testy. “And I appreciate your candor. Now let’s get down to your department itself. How many products do you work on each year?”

Blockman relaxed. Definitely safer ground.

He speared a slice of pineapple and ate it before answering. “Three to ten. And sometimes we have revisions to existing products.”

“Who else at Nano do you provide important services to?”

“Finance. We provide detailed cost estimates on new products, budgets for our research, product development, and support functions.”

“Great.” Simone typed that in. “How about people in companies outside of Nano?”

“I serve as Nano’s representative to SIA,” Blockman supplied, referring to the Semiconductor Industry Association. “That role takes me all over the world.”

Time for a more personal angle—one that would be telling.

“So you must travel to Asia, with so many companies having facilities there.”

Now Blockman looked distinctly uncomfortable. He took another belt of coffee and his response was terser than his others had been. “I’m a million-mile frequent flier many times over. Does that answer your question?”

Boy, did it ever.

“It does. And that’s the last of them—except one.” She smiled, simultaneously glancing down at his wrist. “Those are very handsome cufflinks. Just my boyfriend’s taste. May I ask where you got them?”

“I’m not really sure.” Blockman’s response was stiff. “They were a gift.”

Not a gift “from my wife,” Simone noted, although her research had told her that he had one. Experience also told her that fashionable jewelry such as the cufflinks were usually purchased by a woman.

She went with her instincts.

“I’ll be here at Nano for at least a week. Please ask your wife where she got them. I’d love to get a similar pair for my boyfriend.”

An odd look crossed his face—discomfort and guilt—much as Simone had expected.

“I’ll do that.”

Simone pushed back her chair and rose. “Thank you for your time and forthcoming responses, Lawrence.”

“You’re welcome.”

His coffee cup was drained, but most of his fruit was untouched. And he couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.

Simone made a note to herself to text Terri as soon as she was out of Nano’s eclipsing walls. It was imperative that Terri do an analysis of Blockman’s travel and expense patterns for the past year.

And Simone knew just what she was asking Terri to look for.

An affair.

Simone didn’t give a damn who Blockman was sleeping with.

Unless it was someone who worked at a Chinese tech company.

11