Run for Your Life

  So that avenue of escape was out.

  She had to find another.

  Slowly, she followed Ian's instructions, walking into the living room ahead of him. As she neared the sofa, her gaze fell on her left hand and, impulsively, she tugged off her engagement ring and slipped it in her blazer pocket. Yesterday Ian had asked an awful lot of questions about her relationship with Zach. Whatever he had in mind for her, he probably wanted her as un-tied-down as possible so she wouldn't be missed—except maybe in bed. What's more, if he knew she and Zach were engaged, he might start wondering how deeply involved Zach had been in helping her check out the Hope Institute. And that was the last thing she wanted. Right now, Zach needed a low profile. Because, right now, he was David Karr.

  She sank down on the sofa and crossed her legs. "Okay. No door. No phone. I'd offer you a drink, but it's kind of hard to be a good hostess while being held at gunpoint."

  "True." Amusement flashed in lan's eyes as he lowered himself to the loveseat across from her, angling himself so he could effectively block any attempt she made to run by. "I'm not a violent man, Victoria. But, I'm also not one who lets anything stand in the way of something I want. As you know, I want a senior partnership at Waters, Kensington, Tatem and Calder—badly. I intend to have it. I'll do whatever I have to to make sure of that."

  "That much I know. The nonviolent part I have to question—at least at this particular moment." She cast an uneasy glance at his weapon.

  "Fair enough." With a nod, he reached in his pocket and whipped out a cell phone. "Let's get rid of the need for the gun, shall we?" He indicated the phone, then placed it on the cushion beside him. "I have the number for the Hope Institute punched in. With one press of the send button, I can ring through and arrange for medication to be administered to any particular patient—including a patient who needs something permanent to ease his—or her—suffering. Granted, those medications are usually reserved for the terminally ill. But in this case, they could find their way into your sister's room." He stopped, letting the impact of his words sink in.

  Victoria shot to the edge of the sofa, her features taut, stunned. "You're threatening to kill Audrey?"

  "I'm suggesting you don't make me do anything rash. As of now, your sister is on the mend. Oh, she's weak and she's scared. She's also disoriented—a slight side effect that can't be helped. But she's totally unaware of anything that might or might not be going on in the Institute—other than a few unsubstantiated qualms you could easily explain away as the result of her medication; you know, her mind playing tricks on her."

  A slight side effect that can't be helped?

  "You're keeping her drugged," Victoria realized aloud, unsurprised but sickened. "You and my aunt. You're making sure she doesn't find out anything, or try calling me again. Does my father know?"

  Ian gazed steadily at her, those startling blue eyes sharp and unrepentant. "No. Actually, there's a lot your father's not aware of these days. He assigned the Hope Institute to me several years ago. I've been instrumental in making it prosper. Let's say I'm willing to push a few boundaries he won't. Then again, that's as it should be. Your father's where he wants to be. I'm just getting there. As for Audrey, she's only sedated when she becomes overly agitated and tries foolish things like making phone calls. Even then, it's only in limited doses. That's Clarissa's doing. She's very tenderhearted when it comes to you and your sister. Believe me, the sedation is a lot healthier than the potential trouble Audrey could get into. Bottom line? Cooperate with me, and your sister will leave the Institute in far better shape than when she arrived. Otherwise, she might take a sudden turn for the worse."

  Frantically, Victoria tried to size him up. How believable was his threat? Would he actually go through with it? He wasn't a killer. On the other hand, he'd never been backed so far into a corner. How he would fight his way out at this point was anyone's guess.

  She couldn't take the risk.

  "I get it," she said in a tight, controlled voice. "You win. I won't budge. Now put away the gun."

  "With pleasure." Ian slipped it in his jacket pocket. "Now, let's talk frankly. You and I both know you have some random theories about the Hope Institute being involved in drug smuggling and fraudulent scams with patients' families. We also know you've led your father to believe the FBI shares your suspicions and are, in fact, ready to make arrests." One dark brow rose. "You're very convincing. You're also lying about the authorities being involved. Leaman has assured me you've made no visits to the FBI field office, or even to the local police precinct. Nor have you called either of them."

  Wrong, you son of a bitch, Victoria shot back silently, thinking how effective she and Zach had been as Catherine Hughes and David Karr. Well, that was Ian's loss and her trump card.

  In the meantime, she had to play along. "And how would you know that?"

  His answer was just what she'd hoped it would be. "Because we've had your phones tapped, here and at your office. Surprised? Don't be. We're thorough. Anyway, no FBI means no immediate threat. So, here's the situation. Suppose for the moment you're right. Suppose we really have been doing all the illegal things you think we have. I'd need a few days to clean up the Institute and get it ready for the authorities, just in case you eventually persuaded the FBI that your suspicions had merit. During those few days, I'd need to keep an eye on you, to be sure you didn't do anything to undermine me. The only way to accomplish that would be to take you with me."

  Bingo. If Ian meant what she thought he meant, she'd found her avenue of escape. She wouldn't need her cell phone. She'd have Zach. "Take me with you—where?" she asked, feigning a measured tone that sounded like a front for apprehension.

  His ironic smile told her she'd succeeded. "You wanted to get into the Hope Institute so badly? Now's your chance. You can spend the whole weekend there. Monday, too. That's all the time I'll need. After that, if you're a good girl, I'll send you on your way. You can take Audrey with you. Oh, and if you still want to visit the feds, go right ahead."

  "Right. By that time, the wiretap on my phones will have vanished as completely and untraceably as your drugs. I'll look like a lunatic and you'll look like a squeaky-clean Park Avenue attorney."

  "Exactly. What's more, don't count on any help from your father. I've had him summoned to the Institute for an emergency meeting. He's probably there by now, waiting for me. By the time I've finished presenting my case, he'll believe I've been kept as much in the dark about the drugs as he. We'll be on a joint mission to protect our firm— which will always be his top priority. He's not going to be too happy with you once I mention you fabricated the FBI's knowledge of all this. I'm sure he'll agree with my decision to keep you at the Institute as a weekend guest while we do our cleanup. He can stop by your room, if you like. I don't think it will be a pleasant visit."

  "You're so sure he'll take your word over mine?"

  "There's no proof I lied. There's plenty you did. However, here's a little incentive for you. If you succeed in discrediting me with your father, I'll go to the other senior partners at Waters, Kensington, Tatem and Calder and plead my case. Remember who the official attorney of record for the Hope Institute is. By the time I'm through talking, they'll think your father masterminded everything and set me up to take the fall. He'll be out, his office will be vacant, and I'll get my senior partnership that much sooner." A warning gleam flashed in Ian's eyes. "I don't want it that way, Victoria. I respect your father. He's done a great deal for me. But I'll do it if you force my hand. Is that what you want?"

  Victoria gave an amazed shake of her head. "Is there anything you haven't thought of? You're screwing my father out of his partnership. You're screwing Waters, Kensington, Tatem and Calder out of its respectability and its reputation. And you're screwing the families of the Hope Institute patients out of millions of dollars. And, oh yes, my aunt. Her, you're just screwing."

  Ian's jaw clenched. "Don't go there, Victoria. My feelings for Clarissa have nothing to do with—"


  "With what? With power? With the rush of sleeping with the Institute's CEO? With—pardon my pun—the thrill of being on top?" Victoria's laugh was as humorless as her words. "Save it, Ian. If you're about to tell me how deeply in love with Clarissa you are, don't. You don't know what love is. Evidently, neither does she. That's not my problem. It's yours."

  His eyes narrowed. "And your uncle—is it his problem, too?"

  "Are you asking if I plan to tell him?"

  "Do you?"

  "And if I do?" Her chin came up. "Will you come after me again? Kidnap me? Shoot me?"

  That chiseled smile again. "None of the above. I'll just watch their marriage fall apart, after which I won't have to talk my way past mat pain in the ass, Leonard. You might just be doing me a favor."

  "Good. Because I'd be doing one for my uncle, too." Victoria came to her feet. "Can we go now? I want to see my sister."

  "Not just yet." Ian rose, blocking her path. "I need you to make two calls. One to your office, the other to the Plaza Athénée. What did you tell Hamilton when you left his suite this morning?"

  Ah, she was being grilled about Zach's expectations. No problem. It was good she'd taken off her engagement ring.

  "I told him I had some work to take care of at Waters, Kensington, Tatem and Calder."

  "And?"

  "And what? I'm not in the habit of explaining myself, Ian. Not even to the men I sleep with."

  Apparently, her little charade was believable. "Good," Ian replied. "That works out nicely. Still, he'll expect you back at the hotel later today, and your partners will expect you to show up at work on Monday." He gestured toward the end table and her cell phone. "Call them—first Hamilton, then your partners. Keep it brief if they answer. Leave a message if they don't. Say you're tied up in a huge merger at Waters, Kensington, Tatem and Calder—one that sucked you in the minute you made the mistake of walking in on a Saturday morning. You're racing the clock—your meals being delivered, no sleep till the deal's done—you know the drill. Oh, and you're behind closed doors. You can't be reached until Monday afternoon at the earliest. You'll call in if you possibly can. And, Victoria—make it convincing."

  Making it convincing wasn't the problem, she mused silently. Making the calls on the phone he was pointing to was. It was the secure cell phone. Her lines were supposed to be tapped. That phone wasn't. Which meant her call to Zach's hotel wouldn't record on Mr. Audio's equipment. Warning one to the Hope Institute. Warning two was worse. Her call to her office—which was bugged—would record. And if they somehow managed to trace that call . . .

  She couldn't let it happen.

  "Fine." She shifted uncomfortably. "I'll make the calls. But first, can I use the bathroom?"

  Ian studied her, his expression contemplative.

  "You're free to check out the bathroom if it will make you feel better," Victoria invited wryly, pointing in that direction. "There are no phones, and the window's too narrow to climb through."

  Ian seemed to decide that that level of caution was uncalled for, because he nodded. "Go ahead." He followed Victoria down the hall, positioning himself between the bathroom and the bedrooms. "I'll wait right here."

  "Suit yourself." She went in and shut the door. Taking a few deep breaths, she used the toilet, then washed up, splashing some cold water on her face to recharge her senses. Last, she gathered up a few toiletries and zipped them into a makeup case.

  She opened the door, stepped out, and gave Ian a quizzical look. "I assume it's all right if I pack a few things. I didn't think you'd insist on my spending the weekend dirty and in the same clothes."

  Again, he nodded, and she crossed over to her bedroom, where she tossed a few pairs of jeans, a couple of sweaters, and some underwear in a bag, along with the makeup case. She heard Ian's footsteps, felt his presence in her doorway.

  Good.

  She glanced up. "I'm ready. I'll make those calls now, and we can go." She picked up the bedroom telephone, zipping up her suitcase as she did.

  She dialed the Plaza Athénée, asked for Zach's room, and got the voice mail she was expecting. She left the message precisely as Ian had said. Then she called her office and did the same.

  "Nicely done," Ian commended.

  "I aim to please." Victoria wondered if Atkins would find it curious that she was leaving her apartment with a stranger and a suitcase. Maybe. Maybe not. He might just assume Ian was giving her a ride somewhere. It didn't matter. Soon she'd be right where she wanted to be—inside the Hope Institute.

  "Shall we?" Ian inquired, as genteel as if he were taking her out to dinner rather than kidnapping her.

  "By all means."

  * * *

  34

  Walter Kensington was pacing around Conference Room C when Ian walked in twenty minutes later.

  "Finally." Walter halted in his tracks, his hazel stare as biting as his tone. "I was in the office. I checked to see if you were in. You weren't. I left a message on your home machine. I was just about to try your cell phone when I got word from Harper."

  "I asked him to get in touch with you and suggest we meet here immediately. This situation is explosive." Ian shut the door, anxiety creasing his forehead as he walked over and pressed his palms flat on the large oval table. "As for why you couldn't find me, I was meeting with Clarissa. She called me right after you left. She sounded overwrought. Now I understand why."

  "Did you know those drugs she's administering are illegal? That they're being smuggled into the country?" Walter fired out.

  "Of course not." Ian's denial was instantaneous. "I believed the same thing you did—that they were legitimate, proprietary medications. I proceeded that way from the start. First I did some patent searches for Clarissa. After that, I recommended a few law firms that specialize in intellectual property. I assumed she took it from there. By now, I expected that the applications had been filed. None of this ever occurred to me."

  Walter's expression never changed. "Our only priority is to extricate Waters, Kensington, Tatem and Calder from this mess—now. The FBI is about to make arrests. If we go to them first, it will help us legally and preserve our firm's reputation. I've already advised Clarissa of where I stand on this. To hell with any conflict of interest. I told her to get a criminal lawyer."

  "Walter, wait." Ian held up a detaining hand, keeping his tone respectful. "We don't have to panic. We have time. You're wrong about the FBI; they don't know anything about this. Not yet. And by the time they do, we'll be ready for them."

  A dark scowl appeared between Walter's brows. "Who told you that—Clarissa? You're a fool if you believe—"

  "This isn't about Clarissa. It's about Victoria." Ian pressed his lips together, apology written all over his face. "You're not going to like this. Unfortunately, it's the truth. To begin with, I know you got all your information from Victoria. Leaman saw her go into the office this morning, and he chased her down when she followed you to Clarissa's apartment. Clearly, your daughter pieced together the truth about the drugs and the fraud, and she's trying to protect you by convincing you to disclose privileged information. But in trying to persuade you, she lied. The FBI isn't involved. She's never been in touch with them, much less participated in some covert investigation."

  "And just how do you know that?"

  "Because Leaman's been following Victoria day and night." A heartbeat of a pause. "And because Harper had her phones bugged."

  Again, Walter's hard stare remained unchanged. "The Institute bugged my daughter's phones."

  "Yes. It was a precaution, a worthwhile one as it turns out. Harper's the head of security. Clarissa was nervous about what Victoria might know, what Audrey might have told her when she called. So she had Harper put a tap on Victoria's home and office phones. I wasn't any happier than you when I heard about it—which was only a few minutes ago, by the way. The bottom line is, Victoria lied about being in contact with the FBI. She admitted it to me herself."

  "You spoke to her?"
>
  "Right after I left Clarissa. I went straight to her apartment."

  "I see. And did she happen to tell you how she 'pieced together the truth,' as you put it, without any professional help?"

  "She didn't exactly confide in me, so no, I haven't a clue as to how she got her information. But we both know your daughter is incredibly bright and intuitive, not to mention being like a dog with a bone when it comes to getting answers. We also know she's been uneasy about the Institute from the day she saw Audrey in Central Park. Maybe she confided in Clarissa and your brother. Maybe something Clarissa said made her suspicious. I don't know. I'm just speculating. But however Victoria got her facts, I'm grateful as hell she got them. Now—before anyone else did. She saved our firm from ruin and us from prison."

  Walter's lips thinned into a tight line. "You sound very confident. How is it you plan on buying us this time you're alluding to and saving us from all criminal implications?"

  "I plan to make sure the Institute is totally cleaned up, until there's not a single medication or paper trail that's not a hundred percent aboveboard. I'll personally oversee it. It'll take a couple of days, but all the damning evidence Clarissa's managed to accumulate—from the drugs to whatever discrepancies exist on the dates of patients' deaths versus the dates their families were notified—all of it's going to be destroyed, erased as if it never existed. Clarissa's agreed to cooperate. Not that she has much choice. The alternative is prison for herself and the end of the Hope Institute and everything she's worked for." Ian's palm sliced the air, his tone ringing with certainty. "Once we've finished our overhaul, the FBI is welcome to scrutinize the Institute from top to bottom. They won't find anything."

  "A couple of days, you said. Well, you're damned right about that. It'll take at least that long to do what you're suggesting. And during those couple of days, do you honestly believe Victoria is going to sit by and do nothing—with or without FBI contacts? If so, you're a fool. She's probably trying to reach me right now, to get my answer as to whether or not I'll cooperate. After that, she'll decide her conscience is clear. She'll have met her family obligations, given me a chance to minimize my culpability. Her next stop will be the authorities. She's not going to ignore criminal activities to spare me, my reputation, or my firm."