10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Sylvie Deering January 2025 Thursday — 11:16 am
“Mr. Haze will see you now.”
The announcement had been made with polite condescension by a stylish woman who would soon be looking for employment elsewhere. Considering that Sylvie had been kept waiting in the lobby for hours to speak with Derek Haze, she had been able to monitor the interactions of several employees. There was no doubt that the woman would be unemployed before the weekend.
“Sarah, would you please take this to the third floor?” An older woman’s request couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a directive. She didn’t address Sylvie until Sarah was out of earshot. “I apologize, Miss Deering. It hasn’t been easy finding my replacement. By the way, I’m Derek’s personal assistant, Ruth.”
Sylvie’s irritation faded as she gathered her belongings. It wasn’t Ruth’s fault that Derek had kept Sylvie waiting all morning. She had made the most of the time on her tablet, researching Derek Haze from online articles to local newspapers, gathering as much information as she could that might be useful to her during their interview.
The offices of Derek Haze's pharmaceutical company were a testament to his success—sleek, modern, and bathed in an icy blue light that seemed to emanate from every surface. The sterile environment left Sylvie slightly uneasy, as if she had stepped into some futuristic dystopia.
From her research, Derek Haze was known to be ruthless and cunning, a man who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. His meteoric rise from humble beginnings spoke volumes about his intelligence and determination. An article regarding his mother’s death had been enlightening, and Sylvie got the distinct impression the woman’s battle with Epithelioid hemangioendothelioma (EHE) was the reason for his success in the pharmaceutical business. The funding was rather scarce for such a rare form of cancer.
“May I get you another tea? Coffee, perhaps?”
“No, thank you,” Sylvie replied softly as she fell into step beside Ruth. There was a maternal quality to the woman, and it had nothing to do with her age. Sylvie surmised Ruth was in her late sixties, but it was the genuine warmth in the woman’s eyes that made one feel at ease. “It’s nice of you to stay and help train someone. I take it you are retiring?”
Ruth’s light laughter bounced off the walls of the long hallway.
“Oh, I doubt that I’ll be retiring anytime soon.” Ruth cast Sylvie a humorous sideways glance. “It will take a couple of years for Derek to adjust to the change of me not being here. And I figure that is exactly how long it will take him to choose someone, so why not start now?”
Sylvie was taken aback by Ruth’s willingness to share personal insights about Derek’s personality. The man’s strong aversion to change was something Sylvie had discovered in her research. She would have asked more questions since Ruth seemed so open to discussing her boss, but she had come to an abrupt stop in front of an office door, cutting their conversation short.
“I’ll make sure your coat and gloves are waiting for you at the front desk after your meeting,” Ruth said with a smile as she turned the handle on the door. She hadn’t even bothered to knock to indicate their arrival. “If you need anything in the meantime, feel free to poke your head out and ask.”
Sylvie glanced over her shoulder to find that Ruth had her own private area directly across from Derek’s office. There were several framed photographs on the woman’s desk, though most were facing the opposite way. The only picture at an angle was one with Ruth and another woman who Sylvie recognized to be Derek Haze’s mother from last year’s article regarding her death.
“Thank you, Ruth,” Sylvie replied softly before crossing the threshold.
The stark contrast between the cold, sterile outer offices and Derek’s personal domain was striking. The faint scent of lemon polish hung in the air, obviously belonging to the wooden furniture that seemed to be hand-me-downs from a previous generation. She couldn’t entirely place the style—not quite antique, but definitely not modern. The desk, made of rich mahogany, dominated the room. There was even a matching credenza and complementing bookcases along all four walls.
This was not just an office.
This space reflected the true Derek Haze.
Sylvie had caught sight of the man immediately. He stood at the window with his back turned toward her, speaking in hushed tones on his cell phone. Snowflakes were gently drifting and twirling outside to the ground below. She got the distinct impression that he was having a conversation with his lawyer. He had mentioned something about the case not being federal, and how he didn’t see the harm in answering her questions.
Derek’s suit jacket was draped over the back of his office chair, and his sleeves were rolled, revealing toned forearms. She couldn’t help but notice that he had been in the sun recently, which suggested he had been away for the holidays. There were even some natural highlights in his dark blond hair to back up her assumption.
“…call you afterward. I appreciate your concern.”
The silence that followed Derek's severance from the call was in no way uncomfortable, but she couldn’t put an adjective to the ambiance. She had studied his firm’s social media presence, but those photographs didn’t do the man justice. He turned, revealing blue eyes darker than hers that locked onto her with a startling intensity.
“Ms. Deering,” Derek said smoothly as he set his cell phone on his desk. “First off, let me apologize for the long wait. I got news first thing this morning about the death of a patient in one of our clinical trials.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Haze.” Sylvie set her purse on the floor as he walked around his desk. He reached out an arm, and she was surprised at the warmth of his fingers when he shook her hand. “I’m sure you had a lot to do in the aftermath considering the FDA’s guidelines on such matters.”
“I have others who deal with the red tape.” Derek’s gaze lowered to her holster. She preferred to wear comfortable sweaters when working in the office, but she had donned a cream turtleneck with a brown plaid blazer that covered her firearm. Since she had unbuttoned her jacket to take a seat, her weapon was now somewhat noticeable. “I was more concerned about the family. They understood the risks involved, but losing a loved one is never easy.”
Sylvie sensed his last statement was his way of indicating that he was aware her father had passed away last year. Considering that her name had been in the papers and on the national news regarding the attack in her apartment orchestrated by Jacob Walsh, it wasn’t a stretch that Derek would have put two and two together.
She had anticipated him to return to his chair behind his desk. Instead, he took the seat next to her, resting his elbow on the wooden arm. The unexpected proximity gave her a chance to observe him more intently.
There was a certain allure to him that was undeniable.
“Ruth explained that you’re here to ask some questions regarding Mara Miles. Everyone was shocked to hear what happened last weekend. I reached out to Jordan as a courtesy and spoke with his assistant, but he hasn’t returned my call. I’m going to assume your visit has to do with the money deposited in Mara’s account?”
Sylvie blinked, taken aback by Derek’s candidness. Corporate espionage wasn’t something someone usually willfully admitted to so easily. She had received Arden’s text regarding Brook’s advice on how to approach Derek, and she took it to heart, allowing him to lead the interview.
“Now that you mention it…” Sylvie leaned back in the chair, mimicking his stance. “Why did you give Mara money?"
For the first time since Sylvie walked into his office, Derek displayed a bit of hesitation.
“It was a private matter, Ms. Deering.” Derek’s tone was deliberate, yet he didn’t seem to be intentionally dodging her question. “I gave my word to Mara that the reason would remain that way. Unless my hand is forced, I will keep my promise.”
“You must realize how that looks,” Sylvie pointed out, doing her best to keep her misgivings concealed. A part of her had wanted to believe that he wouldn’t commit a crime like corporate espionage, let alone murder. She wasn’t going to question the reason behind such hope. “You gave two large sums of money to the wife of your competitor. The same wife who was shot to death in her home after your company backed out of acquiring a medical device company that Miles Therapeutics is now on the verge of buying out.”
“Yes, I’m aware of how the situation looks.”
Sylvie waited for Derek to continue, but he merely laced his fingers together and rested his hands in his lap. His body language suggested he wasn’t concerned with the potential scenario she had laid out before him. He was both forthcoming and secretive at the same time.
“Let’s put that topic on hold for now, then.” Sylvie decided to approach the subject in a different manner while continuing to study his composed demeanor. “How well did you know Mara?”
Derek lifted one corner of his lip in levity.
“I’d like to say that I knew her well. Such a response would help solidify your judgment, but I won’t lie. I didn’t know Mara on a personal level. We attended the same social functions, and we were cordial with one another.”
“So cordial that you had lunch with her at Persimmon Restaurant…twice?”
“I have a standing reservation at Persimmon Restaurant on the first Friday of every month to enjoy lunch with my younger sister. Everyone in the city knows where to find me then during that time.”
Derek made it sound as if Mara had sought him out, forcing Sylvie to believe that Mara was the one who had offered to sell Derek information instead of him being the solicitor.
“Let me rephrase my earlier response so there is no confusion,” Derek offered, though not in a way that would rush the interview to its conclusion. He seemed quite comfortable sitting across from her. “Mara and I did not once discuss Miles Therapeutics.”
“Do you make it a habit of giving people money for personal reasons?”
“If I see someone in need? Yes.”
Sylvie tried to read his expression, but she found herself at a loss. Once again, his willingness to answer her questions contrasted sharply with his caginess regarding Mara. There was something about him that Sylvie could only describe as genuine, and she found herself believing he had nothing to do with Mara’s murder.
In this moment, Sylvie wished Brook had been the one conducting this interview. Her ability to read people was uncanny, and Sylvie mentally chastised herself for allowing her revised assessment to cloud her judgment.
“What can you tell me about your meeting with Mara?”
“Nothing that will help you solve her murder, which I’m assuming is the reason you are here. Jordan was arrested, he hired S&E Investigations to clear his name, and you work for said firm,” Derek pointed out with a wry smile. “Listen, I made a promise to Mara that I would not disclose the reason for the loan, and I always keep my promises. It’s as simple as that.”
“Even after her death?”
“Yes, even after her death.” Derek’s refusal to bend his principles during a murder investigation fueled Sylvie's curiosity.
“Did you pay Mara to steal from her husband's company?”
“No.” Derek didn’t even flinch.
“Were you having an affair with Mara Miles?”
“No. I would never consider having an affair with a married woman.”
The sincerity in Derek’s voice was unmistakable, and his body language remained open and relaxed. What was Sylvie missing?
“Do you know Stewart Leone?” Sylvie asked, hoping the mention of someone else’s name might induce a reaction.
“I’ve only met the man a handful of times. He seems competent enough.”
Sylvie took note of Derek’s vague response. His answers revealed nothing more than what was necessary. She pressed on, asking about the acquisition both companies were involved with at the moment.
“I dropped out of that race over a month ago. A lot of other competitors followed suit.” For the first time since they sat down, Derek’s voice betrayed a hint of disdain. “Jordan raised the stakes by upping his bid. In my opinion, the medical device company isn't worth that much, let alone the initial number bounced around.”
It was clear that there was more to this story than met the eye. Since Sylvie had been left waiting in the lobby for so long, she had read Arden’s notes regarding the interview with Stewart Leone. The CFO had disclosed the same opinion to Brook regarding the acquisition.
“It’s my understanding that Jordan Miles was college roommates with Paul Teal.” Sylvie hadn’t been given those specifics by Jordan. She had read the details of the previous partnership in his background check. While Jordan hadn’t struck her as a man who let his personal feelings dictate his business decisions, there could be something more to the story. “I take it their friendship has something to do with the buyout?”
“I don’t want to talk out of turn. I’m sure Jordan has his reasons, but I can only assume the man feels guilty over leaving his friend with a mountain of debt.”
“What do you mean?”
Sylvie hadn’t seen anything in her research to indicate Paul Teal or his company were on the verge of bankruptcy.
“Rumor has it that Jordan and Paul started the medical device company when they were in college. At the time, Jordan and his father weren’t on the best of terms. In the end, his father sucked him back in after a health scare and gave him a corner desk without having to work his way up the corporate ladder.” Derek shrugged as if decisions like that were made more often than not. “Paul was left with a lot of debt. In case you haven’t figured it out during your investigations, the Miles’ fortune has altered history many times. I’m sure it makes your job harder than it needs to be. Anyway, I believe Jordan is attempting to make amends by offering ten or twenty percent more than the medical device company is worth on paper.”
Nothing in Derek’s responses answered the one question she came here for today. While she had been given a small lead to follow in the form of Paul Teal, it was imperative for them to discern the reason behind the money transfer.
“Do you believe that Jordan murdered his wife?” Sylvie asked as she kept her focus squarely on Derek. He was being afforded the opportunity to eliminate a competitor, yet she didn’t believe he was a man who would stoop to such levels. “Was there anything in your dealings with Mara Miles that would have you believing she feared her husband?”
“No…to both questions.”
Sylvie leaned forward and reached for her purse. She clearly wasn’t going to get anything more out of him. She rose from her chair, prompting Derek to do the same.
“I wish you would reconsider your stance on explaining the two deposits,” Sylvie said, trying once more to sway him into divulging the truth. Derek had already pointed out to his attorney on the phone that this wasn’t a federal case. It was up to Detective Kitsis to push the issue, and she wasn’t sure that would happen given the prosecutor’s involvement. “The truth could make all the difference in this investigation, Mr. Haze.”
“Call me Derek, please.” He glanced down at her left hand, which was wrapped around the strap of her purse. It wasn’t until he asked her a question that she realized he had been searching for a wedding ring. “Would you care to join me for dinner?”
Sylvie was so caught off guard by the sudden invitation that she lost her voice for a moment. Her life had been turned upside down since the attack. She had come so close to dying, and that near-death experience had cemented how imperative it was to tend to the relationships in her life.
She had also discovered her belief in fate. Otherwise, why would she have been given the opportunity to work with people she considered her family? Fate had also given her a best friend to stand beside her through every mistake and challenge thrown her way. Bit would have been the first to not-so-subtly nudge her into saying yes to Derek’s invitation.
“Unlike you, Mr. Haze, I’m going to be upfront and honest—the last person I trusted stabbed me in the abdomen and left me for dead.” Sylvie hated that she now kept herself protected by alienating herself from others, and she laid that blame solely at Jacob Walsh’s feet. Still, she found that she wanted very much to accept Derek’s offer. “I’m investigating the death of Mara Miles, whose offshore bank account received two wire transfers from one of your shell companies. I’m sure you can understand my hesitation. Should you change your mind and want to share the reasons for those transfers, I would gladly reconsider your dinner invitation. Have a good day, Mr. Haze.”
Derek’s voice reached her before she could make it to the door.
“Someone once said that trust is the antidote to fear,” Derek quoted as she wrapped her fingers around the knob. She mulled over his words as she slowly opened the door. “You know where to find me, Miss Deering.”