First Family

CHAPTER 25

SEAN HAD TALKED to David Hilal again, catching him out in the parking lot as the man was heading home. Tuck's partner had not had much to add to what he'd already said. Yet he calmly answered each and every query as he leaned against his car and simultaneously read and typed messages on his BlackBerry.

When Sean brought up the issue of the buyout, however, his tone changed. He thrust the BlackBerry in his pocket, folded his arms across his chest, and scowled at Sean.

"What exactly was I supposed to buy him out with? I put all my money into this firm. I'm hocked to the limit. I couldn't even get a loan to buy a car right now."

"He said you made a lowball offer."

"We talked about something like that, but the key is, it was the other way around."

"Him buying you out?"

"That's right. For the lowball offer."

Okay, which one's telling the truth?

"Why would you think of bailing out before the big contract award? Tuck says that would add millions to the value of the firm."

"It absolutely would. If we win it. But it's not a lock. We have proprietary technology that I think is the best out there. That's the reason our prime contractor teamed with us. But we're up against some big players with their own products that are very close in performance and reliability to ours. And the world of government contracting is not done on a level playing field. The big guys skirt the rules, throw the cash around. And because they usually have an inside track they also buy up the most sought-after talent and the little guys get stuck with the scraps. And I don't want to bail out, but I'm running out of money. And if we don't win the contract, the firm will be worth a lot less than the offer he made me. We might have the inside track right now, but like I told you before, the president of the United States' brother-in-law having an affair with Cassandra isn't helping matters. That gets out, we've got problems."

"He said there was nothing between him and Cassandra."

"Really? Then ask him where he stayed when he was down there. I'm sure he'll have some handy excuse."

"You said before you didn't think Tuck would kill his wife, but you don't sound like you love your partner all that much."

"I don't."

"You didn't mention that before."

"Didn't I?"

"I'm a great note-taker. So, no, you didn't."

"Fine. I'm not in the habit of trashing my partner to people I don't even know. But it's hard not to, to tell you the truth."

"Why?"

"Let's just say he's rubbed me the wrong way."

"Care to give an example?"

"Would you believe me if I told you?"

"I've got a very open mind."

Hilal looked off for a few moments before glancing back at Sean. "This is sort of embarrassing, actually."

"I'm very much into maintaining confidences."

Hilal popped a piece of gum in his mouth and started chewing and talking fast as though beating up on the gum and grinding his teeth were giving him the juice to confess everything. "Last year's Christmas party? We'd won a nice little contract. Nothing to write home about, but we splurged anyway to keep up morale. Booze, band, fancy buffet, and a private room at the Ritz-Carlton. We spent too much but that was all right."

"Okay. So what?"

"So Tuck gets shitfaced and makes a pass at my wife."

"A pass? How?"

"According to her, by grabbing her ass and trying to stick his tongue down her throat."

"Did you see it?"

"No, but I believe my wife."

Sean shifted his weight to his right foot and drilled Hilal with a skeptical look. "If you believed your wife, why the hell are you still partners with Tuck?"

Hilal looked down, obviously embarrassed. "I wanted to kick his ass and walk out the door. That's what I really wanted to do. But my wife wouldn't let me."

"She wouldn't let you?"

"We have four kids. My wife stays home. Like I said, everything we have is tied up in this business. I'm a minority partner. If I tried to pull out, Tuck could screw me, leave me without a penny. We couldn't survive that. We'd have lost everything. So we swallowed our pride. But I have never let my wife be in the same room with Tuck since then. And I never will. You can talk to her if you want. Call her right now. She'll tell you exactly what I just did."

"Was Pam at the Christmas party?"

Hilal looked surprised for a moment and then nodded. "Right, I see where you're going. Yeah, she was there. Dressed as Mrs. Claus if you can believe it. Bright red hair and skinny. I think some people were laughing at her not with her."

"You think she saw Tuck messing with your wife?"

"The room wasn't that big. I think a lot of people saw it, actually."

"But no visible reaction from Pam?"

"They didn't leave together, I can tell you that." Hilal paused. "Look, anything else? Because I've really got to get home."

Sean walked back to his car. The principal reasons he believed Hilal were twofold. First was "Cassandra" being the password on Tuck's computer. And second was Tuck's claim that he was having financial troubles and Hilal was trying to take advantage of that. After his meeting with Jane and Tuck, Sean had taken a much harder look at Tuck's financial records he'd found on the hard drive. The man had a stock and bond portfolio worth in excess of eight figures, and outstanding debts at less than a quarter of that amount, so his cry of poverty was total bullshit. Yet if they knew he had cracked Tuck's hard drive, they also had to know he would find that lie out. But sister and brother had still tried to snooker him. Sean put that aside and turned to the next obvious questions.

So why did you come back early, Tuck? And what were you doing for almost an hour between the airport and your house?

On the drive back to his office, he called Michelle. She didn't answer. He left a message. He was worried about his partner. Yet he had spent much of his time worrying about her. On the surface she was the most rock-solid person he'd ever met. But he'd learned that rock had a few cracks if one poked at it deeply enough.

He drove home, packed an overnight bag, zipped to the airport, and paid an exorbitant walk-up fare to snag a flight to Jacksonville that was leaving in an hour.

He needed to talk to Cassandra Mallory. In person.

He got a phone call on his way to Washington Dulles Airport. It was his linguistic friend, Phil, from Georgetown University. "I've got someone who is familiar with the Yi language. If you want to send me a sample of what you're talking about I can let her look at it."

"I'll e-mail it to you," said Sean. When he got to Dulles he sent the sample. He walked to the security gate praying the letters on the arms would lead to something. But the more he thought about it he didn't see how that was possible. As Michelle had rightly pointed out, the sample wasn't even in Chinese.

He stared down at the picture of Cassandra Mallory that David Hilal had e-mailed him. She clearly had all the tools with which to tempt a man.

As the fifty-seat jet swept into a clear night sky, Sean hoped this trip was not taking him in the opposite direction of where he needed to go to find Willa.

Every day that went by without the little girl being found meant it was far more likely they would discover her body instead of her.