A Deadly Game

And yet, Alice was one of the things that made the atmosphere on the executive floor of this building tolerable. Her unflappable composure played a consistent and dramatic counterpoint to R.H.’s hot temper.

She pulled her gaze away from the computer monitor at his approach. Concerned creases instantly appeared in her brow. “Jack, your father told me about Tom Ingram’s death. I’m so sorry you had to see that. It must have been terrible.”

Jack refused to allow the scene from last night to replay in his mind. “It was pretty awful. Even worse for his secretary, though.”

She shivered. “The poor girl. I can’t imagine.”

Jack nodded toward the closed office door behind her. “Is R.H. available? I need to talk to him a minute.”

“Richard is in there with him, but I don’t think they’re doing anything that can’t be interrupted.”

Richard Stratton was his father’s chief of staff, his henchman on virtually any project related to personnel. Everyone in the company had expected R.H. to appoint Jack to that role last year, when the previous chief of staff resigned to take a job with a competitor. The announcement that R.H. had hired an outsider over his son had been an obvious slight, and more embarrassing than Jack would have thought possible. Still, Richard seemed competent enough, and Jack didn’t hold his position against him.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Jack promised as he headed for the office. He rapped on the door twice, then pushed it open.

R.H. was seated behind his desk, a drawerless oval that would have been impressive if the thick glass top were kept clear. Instead, only the center was empty. Stacks of paper lined the outside edge, not messy but certainly not neat. Taller piles littered the carpet around the desk, and even one of the guest chairs contained a stack of past issues of Restaurant Magazine.

Richard stood beside R.H.’s chair, leaning forward to read from a sheet of paper in his boss’s hand. When Jack stepped into the room, he straightened with a faint smile of greeting.

R.H. slammed down the paper. “There you are. I looked for you earlier, but your office was dark.” He made a show of studying his watch. “How much am I paying you to work half days?”

Jack forced his facial muscles to remain relaxed. “I was here at seven this morning, but I had to run an errand. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Richard stepped out from behind the desk. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

“That’s not necessary,” Jack told him.

“It’s all right. I’ve got some things to do.” He paused as he passed Jack in the doorway, and looked back at R.H. “I’ll get back with you on that by lunchtime.”

R.H. dismissed him with a wave, then began straightening the stack of papers in front of him.

Jack stepped up to the front edge of the desk. “I got a call from Tom Ingram’s secretary this morning. Someone tried to break into the trailer in her driveway last night. She wanted to move the Corvette into storage, but I told her it would be safe at the house for a few days. I just ran over there and dropped it off.”

R.H. paused in the act of tapping the edge of the papers on the desk. “The Corvette is at my house?”

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