Page 88 of Once a Killer

“I amsoready for good news,” Jameson said, reaching for the door. “Pretending to be anxious to see my attorney won’t be a problem.”

“Okay, then,” Bree said, sliding the key into her pocket. “Let the show begin.”

They had decided to leave for the attorney’s office at two p.m., which meant they had most of the day to kill. As they walked toward the building, Bree leaned close to his ear. “Open your computer and pretend you’re working on your program. Putting some final touches on it. And it’s okay to act excited but cautious. This appointment is a big deal for you. You’re hoping to find out that the patent is almost in your hands. Then when we come back with the Champagne, you’re all smiles. Pouring the Dom liberally. I’m not going to drink anything -- I’ll just pretend. I’ve gotten very good at that on my various jobs.”

“You’re not going to celebrate with us?”

“Not until this case is over and your program is secure.” She gave him a tiny smile. “You can buy another bottle of that insanely expensive Champagne just for us.”

“Consider it done,” he said.

As she reached for the door into the building, she glanced over at him. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he said.

“Then let the show begin.”

Stu and Brewster were already in the lab when he and Bree walked in. They were usually the earliest arrivals, so nothing out of the ordinary there. “Hey, guys,” he called as he stepped into his office, followed by Bree.

He took her advice and sat down at his desk, opening his computer at the same time. Bree sat at her own desk, pulled out her own computer and fired it up.

They worked through the morning until one p.m., when Jameson closed his computer and shoved it into its case, then put it in his briefcase. Bree gave him a tiny frown, and he said, “I thought we’d get lunch before my appointment.”

She nodded and shut down her own computer and stuffed it into her messenger bag, then stood up to leave with him. He watched as she swept her gaze over the four engineers in the other room, who were all watching them.

Hayley frowned. “The reporter is going with you to your attorney’s appointment?”

Jameson shrugged. “She’s writing a comprehensive piece about the lab. Wants to get all the details.” He smiled at Hayley. “She won’t be coming into my attorney’s office with me, though. There are some details she doesn’t need to know.”

He nodded at Hayley, then he and Bree walked out of the office without looking back.

They headed directly for her rental car, and the prickling on the back of his neck told Jameson that at least one person was watching them leave. He’d give a lot of money to turn and find out who it was, but he forced himself to keep walking and keep his eyes on the small compact car.

As he swung into the vehicle, which seemed tiny after the Monster, he risked a look at the windows. No one was there. Whoever had been watching them must have realized that he’d look at the office as he got into the car.

Bree started the car and drove out of the lot. When they were completely out of sight of the building, she said,” What do you want to do between now and when we head back to the office?”

His eyes darkened, and she shook her head. Sighed as she fixed her gaze on the road in front of her. “Besides that, Jameson.”

“Let’s get lunch somewhere,” he finally said.

“Good idea. Any preferences?”

“How about that Italian place we ordered from last week?” he said.

She nodded, glancing over at him. “Sounds good. I liked that place.” She headed toward the restaurant and parked in the back lot when they arrived.

They took their time at lunch, then drove to a liquor store and bought three bottles of Dom Perignon, a cheap Styrofoam cooler and a bag of ice. Back at the car, he dumped the ice into the cooler, nestled the three bottles of Champagne into the ice then pressed the lid into place. The annoying squeak of the Styrofoam as he secured the lid made him shiver.

Once inside the car, he glanced at his watch and looked at Bree. “It’s 4:30,” he said. “I think it’s okay to head back now.”

“Yeah, I think we’re good. You know no one’s going to leave the lab until you’re back with news.”

“I know,” he said. “We’ll watch everyone and see who reacts to the news. And I’ll pretend to drink a lot of Champagne so I can stumble a bit when I put the hard drive in the safe.” He grinned. “Hate to dump glasses of $500 a bottle Champagne into the garbage can, but I’ll force myself to do it.”

“Just don’t let anyone see you doing it,” Bree warned.

“Don’t worry,” he said, with a sly smile. “I’m an expert at dumping unwanted drinks. I’ve had too many people ply me with alcohol, then try to worm program secrets out of me. I have my moves down pat.”

---