Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Archer sat behind his desk, waiting. Jason Sakstra was due any minute.
Out of the blue, the man had called to request an appointment this morning.
Archer had been inclined to say no, but decided it was better to see what Jason needed.
After all, it was better to have the board’s support when the time came to deal with Davis.
Eventually, he’d carried Tatum to the bedroom last night, then slept with her in his arms all night.
Something he couldn’t remember ever doing with a woman before.
And he’d slept better than he had in the past ten years.
He didn’t dare consider what that meant.
Didn’t wish to examine why she felt like a gift he didn’t deserve… shouldn’t have.
At dawn, reluctantly, Archer had crawled out of bed, leaving Tatum sleeping. He’d hated to go, but he didn’t have a choice. There were so many moving parts to arrange to be ready for Davis at the board meeting in two days.
He'd been going over the list Kelly had provided, names of people who'd invested with Granite Industries. Jason's name was on it. Along with several of his clients. Jason had said he’d lost money with the Ponzi scheme, but now Archer wanted to know if that was a cover. Was Jason one of the Curator’s clients? The records didn’t lie, he’d lost money, but was it through the Ponzi scheme, or was he using that as an excuse to try to get money back because he’d played too much and now had to pay the piper?
The fact that Archer had doubts didn't sit well with him.
He'd always considered Jason a solid guy.
Smart. Careful. Not the type to get pulled into something shady.
Was he wrong? Was his judgment clouded? Quite possibly.
It was hard to tell these days. The pressure from Davis and now Fisher, maybe it had always been Fisher, along with running everything and now dealing with Tatum, the strain had all taken its toll.
Archer felt like it was all spinning out of his control.
And he hated that. More than anything else.
A knock at the door interrupted his morose thoughts.
"Come in."
Jason stepped inside, looking as polished as ever in a charcoal suit and crisp white shirt.
But tension around his eyes created wrinkles not there previously.
He’d expected to see hope there. Archer had told Jason he would reach out if he found the money.
He’d assumed when Jason asked for the meeting that’s what it was about.
Jason should be cautiously hopeful at the very least. He wasn’t.
He was…uncomfortable. Possibly even afraid.
Suspicions rose like bile in his stomach, tightening the ever-present knot there.
"Archer." Jason nodded.
"Jason." Archer gestured to the chair across from his desk.
Jason sat, his posture loose but not quite relaxed.
Archer didn't waste time. "What can I do for you?"
Jason's jaw tightened slightly. "I was wondering if you heard anything about this camera business.”
Archer stilled. So that’s how it was. “I’m looking into it. I won’t discuss it until the emergency board meeting.”
“Of course, of course,” Jason was quick to respond. “Just several of the board members, well… We’re worried.”
Archer remained silent. Then he said, “You invested with Granite Industries, correct?”
Jason frowned at the segue. “Yes. I told you about that. Is there something new since we last spoke?”
Archer ignored the question. "You invested with them. So did several of your clients."
"Yes. Like I said, I told you all about it.”
“Tell me about it again. Why did you invest?”
Jason exhaled slowly. "My boss pressured me into it."
"Your boss?" Archer repeated. "Martin Hendricks?"
"Yes. Martin got involved with Granite Industries and was convinced it was a solid investment. Pun intended,” he said with a chuckle.
But when Archer didn’t crack a smile, Jason continued, his discomfort seemingly growing by the second.
“Martin pushed me to get on board. Said it was a sure thing. Said my clients would thank me."
Archer leaned back in his chair, studying him. "And you didn't question it?"
"Of course I questioned it." Jason's voice was firm. "I did my due diligence. I looked at the paperwork, the projections, the returns they were promising. It all looked legitimate on the surface."
"But?"
"But it felt off. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something didn't sit right. So I told Martin I wasn't comfortable recommending it to my clients."
"What did he say?"
"He told me I was being paranoid. That I needed to trust him. And then he made it clear that if I didn't bring my clients in, it would reflect poorly on me. On my future at the firm."
Archer's eyes narrowed. "He threatened your job."
"Not in so many words. But the implication was there."
"So you caved."
Jason's face flushed slightly. "I brought in a few clients. The ones who could afford to lose the money if things went south. I made it clear to them that it was high-risk, that they shouldn't invest more than they were comfortable losing.”
“And your investment?” Archer probed.
“Like I mentioned, I invested a lot. All I had really. Martin insisted.”
Archer nodded." Do you know who approached Martin?" Archer asked. "North? Kelly? Davis?"
"Lebowitz," Jason said immediately. "Tim Lebowitz. He and Martin knew each other from some charity board. Lebowitz pitched him on Granite Industries, and Martin ate it up. Thought he'd found the next big thing."
Relief flooded through Archer, though he didn't let it show.
Lebowitz.
Not Anderson. Not the Curator. Just Lebowitz running his unauthorized Ponzi scheme on the side, pulling in people like Martin and Jason because he couldn't help himself.
That meant Jason wasn't paying for services rendered. Wasn't part of the trafficking network. Wasn't compromised in the way Archer had feared. That was good news. Having yet another board member compromised would not be good.
He'd been worried he'd misjudged Jason. Worried that his instincts were off, that he was losing his edge.
The past two years had been a shit show with the board, pulling Archer in so many directions that it was natural to feel skeptical of his gut reactions.
But this made sense. Jason had been pressured by his boss, who'd been suckered in by Lebowitz's pitch. But then why wasn’t Jason hopeful? Why wasn’t he asking Archer if he found the money?
"Alright," Archer said. "That tracks with what I've been hearing. Lebowitz brought in investors. Your boss got caught up in it, and you got dragged along."
Jason looked relieved. "For what it's worth, I feel like an idiot. I should've pushed back harder. Should've walked away from the firm if Martin was going to put me in that position."
"Hindsight," Archer said. "Don't beat yourself up over it."
Jason nodded. He stood, clearly ready to leave.
But something was off. Jason wasn’t as relaxed as he should have been. There was an undercurrent there. He still hadn’t asked about the money. He’d been desperate before, and now he was…less so. A fact that worried Archer.
“Thanks for the chat.” Jason headed for the door and then stopped. “Hey, do you know if anyone is using the jet today?”
Archer’s eyebrows went up. “Not that I know of. Why?”
“I was wondering if you minded if I took it. I know as a board member, you give us some leeway about using it. I have to fly to Lisbon, and I would much prefer to take the jet than go commercial.”
And there it was. The reason Jason was no longer interested in the money was because he was being paid by Davis and Fisher.
He was the board member who was going to find a camera in the Lisbon location.
He was the unimpeachable source that would be the linchpin in the case against Archer.
And he had the gall to ask for the Society’s jet to get him there.
Sonofabitch.
“Why don’t you call Captain McLeod and see if he’s available?”
“Thanks,” Jason said with a smile and headed out of the office.
Archer drummed his fingers on his desk. There was nothing he could do about Jason.
It would all come out at the board meeting.
Davis must have paid him for his betrayal.
Jason was in a desperate situation, so it wouldn’t have been hard to turn him.
Still, it was a blow. But forewarned was forearmed.
Archer walked out of his office, adjusting his blazer. The meeting with Jason had raised more questions than it had answered, and his mind was still turning over the implications.
"Archer?" Ryker's voice carried down the hallway.
Archer turned. "Ryker. Good. I need to talk to you."
Ryker fell into step beside him. "How'd it go with Sakstra?"
"Better than I expected. And worse." Archer kept his voice low. "Jason's clean. He got pressured by his boss, Martin Hendricks. Lebowitz pulled Martin in with his unauthorized Ponzi scheme."
"So Jason's not part of the trafficking network."
"No. But he’s Davis’s unimpeachable source for finding a camera in Lisbon.”
“How do you know?” Ryker demanded
“Because he just asked to borrow the jet to take him there. I’m not a big believer in coincidences.”
Ryker's eyebrows rose. “That takes stones. What are we going to do about it?”
“Nothing.”
“What?” Ryker demanded. “Why not?”
A sudden pop echoed through the hallway.
Archer froze. Ryker stopped as well.
"Champagne cork?" Ryker asked.
Archer glanced at his watch. Eight a.m. He knew that sound, and it was not a champagne cork.
He walked over to a panel in the hallway and pressed on it. It sprang back when he hit a button. The big red button. Instantly, all over the building, every door locked. No one in. No one out.
Ryker grabbed his phone and started texting. “Gunshot.”
"Yes,” Archer agreed.
"How would they get a gun in with all of our security? There's just no—"
Archer stared at him, then nodded slightly. “There’s always a way if you want it badly enough.”
Ryker stopped talking. "Wait. What's that button?"
"Everything is locked. No one in, no one out."
"I had no idea. I mean, I knew that button existed. I thought it was only in your office."
"Now you know. There's a button in every hallway. Start looking for the panels, and you'll see them."
"You should have told me this before."
"Now you know," Archer growled. "Let's move."
They headed down the hallway and took a right, following the sound of voices.
Archer was still trying to understand what he'd heard. Ryker was right, security was tight. How could somebody get a gun inside? Ceramic, maybe. 3D-printed. Something non-metallic that could slip through the scanners.
As they rounded the corner, Ryker said, "It's probably one of the Yakuza. They're in this week, meeting with the Triads. Somebody got rambunctious."
"That sounds logical," Archer agreed, but he knew, knew it wasn’t the Yakuza.
They came to a halt in the dining room. People were staring. Archer cleared his throat. The doorway into the dining room cleared, and he walked through.
And stopped dead.
Seated at a booth, eyes wide open, mouth slack, was Vincent Kelly with a small hole between his eyes. A single drop of blood rolled down his nose.
And just like that, Archer’s world was over.
What he was looking at wasn't just Vincent Kelly's dead body.
It was the end of everything.
Because after an incident like this, Archer Gray was finished.
The Society would demand his head. Literally.
And that meant Archer Gray had to die.