Part 7 (1/2)
”That's terrible,” she murmured.
”Exactly what I thought. So I called Lawrence's accounting sharks in New York and told them we needed fifty grand for a new barn out here. They wired it to me the next day, and I sent it on to the girl.” He patted the horse's neck again. ”Her mother died, but at least she was comfortable during her last few weeks. And the girl didn't have a pile of medical bills to deal with when her mother was gone.”
”Is all of that really true?” she asked. There was her natural instinct not to believe, not to fully trust even someone she felt comfortable with. The risks had outweighed the rewards too many times.
”You think I'm lying?”
”What if the accounting guys drop by to check up on the new barn? What will you do when they find out what you really did with the money?”
”They won't. At least, they haven't yet. And if they do, I'll get a message to Mr. Lawrence telling him to call off the dogs. If he ignores me, then I'll call theNational Enquirer and make a million bucks.”
She didn't ask, but the implication was that he had protected himself by sneaking a photograph. ”What you did for that girl seems like a big risk to take for someone you don't even know.”
Tucker glanced over his shoulder. ”You are a tough broad. I guess I oughta believe that your meeting with Mr. Lawrence was just business after all.”
”Yes, you should.” She s.h.i.+vered. It was getting colder as the sun dropped toward the horizon. ”How many times have you brought a woman up here for Jake Lawrence?”
”You sound like a reporter.”
”Answer me.”
”More than twice, but that's all I'll say.”
”How do you know he's made promises to those other women?”
”The story I told you isn't the only one I've heard. And she wasn't the only one I checked up on. And now you sound like a lawyer.”
It was the second time in the last few hours she'd been accused of being a lawyer, which wasn't unusual. Her father had always encouraged her to be an attorney because he said she never stopped asking how and why. ”How can you be so sure Jake Lawrence makes all kinds of promises when you aren't actually there?”
”I can't,” Tucker replied, guiding the horse around a sharp rock protruding from the snow. ”Are you defending him?”
”No, I . . . ” Her voice trailed off.
”What's this big project Lawrence wants you to work on?” Tucker asked.
”I can't say.”
”Oh, I get it. I share a little inside information with you, but now you don't return the favor. I see how it works.”
”It has to do with a corporate takeover.”
”What company is being taken over?”
”I really can't tell you that.” She didn't want to let on that she didn't know herself. She didn't want Tucker to doubt the legitimacy of the meeting. ”If I did, I'd be violating about twenty securities laws, which could get us both in a boatload of trouble.”
Tucker snorted loudly. For a moment she wasn't certain if it was him or the horse.
”Here's a chance for me to make a little money,” he grumbled, ”and you're holding back. I'm not as much of a cowboy as you think. I've got a stock portfolio. It ain't big, but I've got one. Come on, Angela, give me a tip.”
”I'm sorry, John, but I really can't say anything.”
”Yeah, sure.”
”Bill Colby's a scary guy,” Angela commented, trying to change the subject.
”Yeah, I don't like him much. But he knows what he's doing,” Tucker admitted grudgingly. ”Being head of security for Jake Lawrence is no picnic.”
”Why is Jake Lawrence tougher to guard than any other wealthy person?” she asked, glad Tucker had taken the bait.
”First of all, Mr. Lawrence isn't just any other wealthy person. He's probably one of the top ten wealthiest people in the world. One of the accountants in New York told me that if he's ever kidnapped, Colby has a standing order to pay up to $100 million just on proof of life.”
Angela shook her head. ”Lord.”
”That's why you can't find pictures of him anywhere. Colby won't allow it. No pictures makes it tougher on anybody who's thinking about kidnapping or killing him.” Tucker nodded back over his shoulder in the direction of the cabin. ”The army Colby surrounds Lawrence with makes it tougher, too. So do the decoy teams.”
”Decoy teams?”
The horse strayed slightly toward the cliff. Tucker steered the animal closer to the rock face. ”Yeah. As I understand it, there are three imposter Jake Lawrences running around the world posing as him. They've had plastic surgery to make them look as much like the real McCoy as possible, and they travel with a personal army just like Mr. Lawrence does. Sometimes they're with him and sometimes they aren't.”
It was fascinating, the lengths to which Lawrence went to protect himself. ”Why would the teams ever be with Lawrence?”
”If he absolutely has to go somewhere, and it's an area that Colby determines is 'hot' or high-risk, especially if the trip is last minute, Colby may send one of the decoy teams in first.”
”To test the waters.”
”Exactly. Even if the first one makes it to the destination safely, Colby might send a second decoy in while he's slipping the genuine article into the area in an old pickup truck.”
”Have any of the teams ever been-”
”Attacked?” Tucker interrupted, antic.i.p.ating her question.
”Yes.”
”Yup. Colby tries to keep all information dealing with Mr. Lawrence's security very hush-hush, but I understand that we lost a decoy two years ago.” Tucker's eyes narrowed. ”It was a car bomb, and there wasn't much left. I just hope we took care of the son of a b.i.t.c.h's family,” he said softly.
”Do you know where the incident occurred?”
”Algeria, I think.”
”Algeria? What in the world would Mr. Lawrence be doing in Algeria?”
”I'm sure I don't know.”
”I don't remember reading anything about that.”
”Of course not. Jake Lawrence has influential friends in high places, including the press. The incident never made it into the newspaper columns.”
Angela nodded to herself, thinking about how Jake Lawrence seemed to know that theWall Street Journal was considering a follow-up on Liv Jefferson's articles. ”Then based on what you're telling me, I can't be certain that was the real Jake Lawrence I just met.”
”That's true,” Tucker acknowledged, ”except for one thing.”