Page 27 of Gage
“Get me the information by five o’clock this afternoon. No excuses.” Donald jammed his finger against the phone, disconnecting the call before turning around. His eyes widened in surprise when he spotted her and Gage and Bas standing beside his assistant.
“Suzanna, what a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you…and your guests. Please, come in.” He walked forward, his arms extended, and she found herself embraced for too closely for her liking. Not a touchy-feely person at the best of times, she remained stiff in his arms, almost blowing out a sigh of relief when he released her and stepped back. Luckily, she caught herself just in time.
“Donald, this is Gage Newsome and Sebastian Boudreau.” Donald nodded at the introduction, though kept his focus on her. “I hate to be an imposition, but we’ve got a few questions we’d like to ask you and then we’ll get out of your hair, and let you get back to whatever you’re working on.”
“Nonsense, Suzanna, it’s never an imposition when I get to see your lovely face. Cheryl, why don’t you get some tea for our guests.” His insincere smile had the tiny hairs on her arms lifting like a chill wind across her skin. How had she never noticed that before? His smile hadn’t reached his eyes, which were cold and calculating, and she instinctively knew he was hiding something.No matter his politeness, deep down she knew he wanted her out of his house as quickly as possible. What was that about? He’d never acted this way before. Maybe it was leftover emotion from the phone call, but she wasn’t certain. She just knew it didn’t feel right.
“Nothing for us, thank you, Cheryl. We won’t be here long, Donald. We just need a moment of your time, if you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions.”
“That’ll be all for the moment, Cheryl. I’ll call you when we finished.” Blackthorn indicated for his assistant to leave.
“Please, Donald, I’d like you to answer Mr. Newsome’s questions.” Suzanna waved a hand toward Gage.
“Mr. Blackthorn, would you mind telling us exactly what your dealings are with Sandoval Enterprises? Suzanna mentioned you and her husband were working with Gustavo Sandoval and his company prior to her husband’s murder.” Gage’s voice held just the right amount of curiosity to not arouse suspicion. Suzanna was impressed. She doubted she could have kept the question so matter of fact. She’d have been demanding, not nonchalant. Bas’ posture appeared comfortable and relaxed, like he didn’t have a care in the world, and was simply biding his time, standing just behind and to the right of her and Gage, leaning against the doorjamb, yet somehow she knew if even a hint of danger appeared, he’d spring into action within a heartbeat.
“Sandoval Enterprises? How did you hear about them?”
Suzanna drew in a deep breath before answering. “Steven told me you were meeting with Sandoval, had been for the few weeks before his death.”
Blackthorn shook his head. “We started having talks with Gustavo Sandoval a few months ago, interested in his collaborating with him with regards to transportation. Sandoval Enterprises is one of the largest private courier services in thecountry, and we were looking into utilizing their services for shipping the new microchips we have in R&D. These microchips are revolutionary.” Excitement laced his voice, his whole body seeming to vibrate with eagerness. “The breakthrough we’ve developed will change not only the way we think about microchips but the amount and capability of transmitting data. We are talking advancements unheard of before. Imagine transmitting data via particles of light instead of electricity. You could transmit gigantic amounts of data within seconds and cut the energy needed to transmit that data. It’s a massive breakthrough and we’ll be the first to have these chips available to the marketplace. The demand is going to be astronomical, which is why Sandoval Enterprises was our top choice. They can provide the kind of security needed to make sure these chips aren’t highjacked on the way to their destination.” Blackthorn stopped and gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Sorry, I tend to get carried away when I talk about the new particle light technology. Anyway, we were on the verge of signing a contract with them when we had a setback and decided to hold off on distribution of the microchips until we worked out the glitch.”
“How did Sandoval react when you canceled the contract?”
“He was understandable upset. After all, we’re talking about a multimillion-dollar, multi-year contract. Steven assured him when we worked out the minor glitch, we’d revisit utilizing them for transporting the product. Gustavo Sandoval wasn’t pleased. As a matter of fact, he threatened Steven.”
“What?” Suzanna gasped out the question.
“How exactly did Sandoval threaten Mr. Dawkins?” Gage still maintained his air of calm, asking the question without emotion. If Suzanna hadn’t been watching him closely, she might not have noticed the slight stiffening of his shoulders, or the way his muscles bunched beneath his shirt.
“Oh, you know how it is, Mr. Newsome. All bluster and tossing around empty threats. Sandoval demanded to know if we’d awarded it to somebody else, that kind of thing.”
“Of course. What about these microchips warranted using a company like Sandoval?
“Like I said earlier, we investigated several companies for transportation or shipping if you prefer of the microchips. We need a company who can provide not only the trucks and planes needed to move the microchips from one location to another, but also security to prevent hijacking and loss. Sandoval Enterprises presented a contract to provide the resources we need, the fleet of trucks and planes to move our product, and the armed security necessary to maintain a controlled and protected product flow from our facilities to the warehouses. It’s really too bad we had to withdraw our offer, because Sandoval’s offer was the best, and at a substantially lower rate than any of their competitors.”
“These particle light microchips are the ones you’re talking about shipping via Sandoval Enterprises? You mentioned something happened.”
Donald shot a glance my way, as if asking for permission to continue. I understood, what he was talking about was technology not yet available to the masses. Steven’s company was technologically speaking years ahead in research regarding anything to do with computers and semiconductors. Really anything to do with technology, her husband had a hand in it. He’d had the intellect of a genius when it came to anything computer related, while his social skills had been those of a five year old.
“We need to know, Donald,” she said.
“We’re not sure what happened. Everything worked perfectly. All the tests performed to precise standards. We are talking new technology with particle lights, and we had morethan a few setbacks. I mean, we’ve been working on this for years. Finally, everything was ready to unveil to the public. The demand for our product would be in the stratosphere, Suzanna. But something happened. The last test, right before we were ready to begin production—some kind of glitch. We had to pull the launch, head back into research mode to figure it out. Steven was devastated. This project is—was—his baby. It’s the biggest discovery we’ve ever had. Our company is big and we’ve got a great reputation, true, but this—this would have cemented us as number one. The company to go to for anything related to technology. And not just computers, we’re talking data transmission of one petabyte per second. It’s just the beginning of a brand new world.”
“Has Sandoval been snooping around since Dawkins’ death?” Bas asked the question, tossing it out there like a live grenade.
Blackthorn froze, the whole deer in the headlights look, before shaking his head. “Other than to offer his condolences, I haven’t spoken to Gustavo Sandoval.”
“Thank you, Mr. Blackthorn, for answering our questions. If anything else comes up, we’ll be in touch.” Gage gently clamped her elbow, letting Suzanna know he was ready to leave.
A gentle spark shot through her at his touch, and her breath caught in the back of her throat. She didn’t look at him, didn’t want him to know she’d felt anything. Later she’d look at what happened, but right now, she needed to maintain her façade of the grieving widow.
“Suzanna, you know how sorry I am about Steven. I know it’s been almost six months, but I miss him every day. He was my dearest friend. I’m trying to keep the company moving forward, because that’s what he’d have wanted.”
“I know, Donald. Steven always cherished your friendship, and I appreciate everything you’re doing. Please give my best toElizabeth. Tell her I’ll call her, and we’ll set up time for a lunch meeting.”
“I will.”
Without looking back, the three of the left, climbing into Gage’s car.
