Dead in a Week (Forensic Instincts 7)

Simone nodded, glancing around the office that, although smaller than Maxwell’s, was decorated in a similar contemporary style and emanated class and style. The main difference was that Zoe’s office was all business, with no personal touches at all—no family photos, no special knickknacks, only a few tasteful but impersonal pieces of Chinese objets d’art on her desk and hand-painted landscapes of rural China on the walls. An intriguing—or coincidental—choice of countries; China seemed to be very popular today. Alongside the paintings was a gold plaque announcing Zoe’s fifteen-year anniversary at NanoUSA.

That told Simone not only the obvious—that family wasn’t a key factor in Zoe’s life—but that Zoe was a woman who was determined to be taken seriously. She’d made a visible decision not to water down her image by giving away anything personal about herself, including hobbies or outside interests. Nothing to display a softer side. It wasn’t merely a classic show of a strong, cultured woman playing in a man’s world—a battle Simone knew only too well. It was a definitive statement that Zoe was all Nano and nothing but.

Simone took a seat in one of the leather chairs across from Zoe’s desk, using the opportunity to subtly assess Robert Maxwell’s PA herself and noting the details that no dossier could provide.

Zoe Pearson was more attractive and put-together than she was pretty. She looked younger than her mid-forties, partially because she was so petite. She overcame that with an air of utter confidence—a combination Simone was all too familiar with, since she herself was “small but mighty.” Zoe’s straight, black, shoulder-length hair was fashionably cut and styled and her makeup was perfectly applied and expensive, as was her Hugo Boss heather-gray sheath dress and jacket. She was tan and toned, a clear sign that she visited the company gym on a regular basis, probably daily. Her dark brown eyes were sharp and intelligent, and her voice as she wrapped up her business call rang with authority.

A formidable businesswoman and an ostensibly loyal Nano employee.

In the final seconds before Zoe disconnected the call, Simone made a quick jewelry scan. Not that there was much to see. Zoe wore only a single silver pendant around her neck, although that pendant did scream money. No wedding band. And no tan line that might indicate a one-time presence of a discarded wedding band.

Unmarried to a man. Married to a job. Much like the dossier had suggested.

Zoe put down her phone and rose, reaching across the desk to shake Simone’s hand. “Ms. Martin,” she greeted her. “I apologize for holding you up. Unfortunately, that call was important and ran longer than I expected.”

“No need to apologize.” Simone met her handshake and then sat back down. “I’ve been in the same situation more times than I can count. And, please, call me Simone.”

“And I’m Zoe.” She gestured at her coffee station. “What can I offer you?”

“Nothing, thanks.” Simone waved away the gracious offer. “Given all the meetings I’ve conducted today and how much coffee and water I’ve consumed, I think I’m about to drown.”

Zoe smiled, a practiced smile worthy of those Simone had seen on Hollywood faces. “I can imagine.” She reseated herself, her back ramrod straight, her fingers interlaced on the desk. Although she made comfortable, direct eye contact, she made no move to walk around and sit in the chair adjacent to Simone, or to suggest they move to the sitting area of her office.

Zoe Pearson was intent on making a point. The semicircular desk was an orchestrated barrier between her and Simone, and her body language said she was determined to stay in charge.

Simone had her work cut out for her.

“I was just admiring your pieces of art,” she said. “Where did you get them?”

“Robert Maxwell travels to China frequently on business. He knows I have a weakness for Chinese art and would often bring home a gift for me.” Zoe paused. “And just for the record, he never charged any of them to his company expense account. I would know; I file all of his reports. The gifts were a gesture of kindness and appreciation— something Robert is well-known for.”

Defensive. Not about herself but about Robert. What was that about?

“Zoe, please relax.” Simone went straight to the heart of things. If she couldn’t lower the wall Zoe had erected, she’d never get anywhere. “I’ve heard nothing but glowing praise when it comes to you and to Robert Maxwell, and I’m only here to pick your brain and see if you can shed some insight on how I can improve the manufacturing division. I have no ulterior motive and no hatchet to bury in anyone’s back.” Simone paused, seeing the skeptical look in Zoe’s eyes.

Ah, another indicator of how close Zoe and her boss were.

“I’m sure you’ve spoken with Robert.” Again, Simone went for the direct approach. “And I’m sure he’s clued you in on the fact that, as part of my job, I’m checking out any potentially problematic dynamics between departments that might interfere with the proper functioning of the manufacturing division.”

Zoe’s brows rose slightly, but she neither confirmed nor denied Simone’s statement.

“I take that to mean a yes,” Simone said. “I’m glad he shared that with you, because it saves me the trouble of doing so. This isn’t a witch hunt. It’s information gathering. I realize Robert is uncomfortable with it, given how protective he is about his employees. But it’s just a small part of my assessment, and a necessary one. He has nothing to be concerned about.”

“Do you have reason to believe our employees are not team players?” Zoe asked bluntly.

“If I did, I’d be discussing that with Robert. And I’m sure he’d be passing that information on to you. So I think you know the answer to that question already.”

“I only know that you’re still pursuing that path.”

“Along with any other applicable ones. Would you mind if I ask why you’re so defensive?”

Zoe drew in a breath. “Nano is more than my place of employment. It’s a huge chunk of my life. The staff here is more like a professional family than a bunch of co-workers. So, yes, I get defensive when I feel as if our integrity is being questioned.”

“Point well taken.” Simone nodded. “I’ve seen the teamwork you’re describing firsthand. It’s more than impressive, and equally rare. I’m not expecting to find anything to dispute that.”

Zoe seemed to thaw a bit, although her body language remained guarded. “What questions do you have for me?”

“Ones you could most likely answer in your sleep.” Simone crossed one leg over the other, intentionally opting against taking notes, just as she had with Ethan. Zoe wouldn’t squirm the way Ethan would have. She would just shut do