Page 16 of Cuckoo (Kindred)

Both Grant and Brodie had told her they had suspicions about what had happened on the day their parents were killed, rather they’d expressed doubts about whether or not it was an accident. Now she had the concrete confirmation Brodie had never had.

They’d lost Art to keep Game Time from falling into the wrong hands. Grant died trying to steal its power from the one he’d sold it to. She couldn’t make promises to surrender it without getting authorization from her chief. But she questioned whether she should bring this development to his attention. Was he so desperate to know what had happened to his parents that he would damn innocent souls? Or would he be pissed that Kahlil was manipulating him and go on a crusade to find the truth another way after damning Kahlil to his grave?

Before establishing what she would do with this information, she had to find out what course it had already taken. “If you offered this to Grant, why weren’t you the successful bidder?”

In the end, Grant had proved himself selfish enough that if Kahlil had something extra that interested him, he’d give the man an advantage to gain what he wanted.

“He was never offered this information,” Kahlil said. “The man I used to work for was involved in the demise of Future’s Hope. He had kept the secret for many years, two decades. He ordered me to keep the secret too. At the time, he had my loyalty, so I did what he said.”

“Your boss was involved?” she asked.

“Yes, and honestly, if Grant McCormack found out about his involvement then, our Game Time bid would never have been entertained.”

“But when you failed to obtain Game Time, your boss got pissed and fired you.”

With a slow blink and a nod, he maintained his calm. “That’s right,” he said.

“So now you want your revenge?” she asked.

Any information she got from this man would be biased and would downplay his involvement in whatever happened. But he couldn’t be more than ten years older than Brodie, meaning he’d have been in his early twenties when this incident occurred. Still, whatever he said would have some thread of truth, and it would give them a place to work from if Brodie decided he wanted to settle old debts.

Kahlil took a second to himself before answering. “My new associates and I have no reason to keep the information to ourselves. The only value the information has to us is its power as leverage. We can barter knowledge for what we want.”

And before they could even consider a trade, they would have to uncover Game Time’s ultimate purpose in the hands of these people. “Why do you want it?” she asked. “What’s so important about Game Time? You have lost the patronage of your previous superior. Do you plan to turn the device against him?”

He squared the seam of his slacks and cleared his throat before standing up and tapping a finger on the envelope. “Take that figure to your superior.”

“You said your new approach would work because I’m a woman,” she said, happy to keep her love as far away from this decision as she could.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you would be making the decision. But I know you have the ear of your man, the man who will appreciate this information. A man who we both know flouts conscience in favor of his own agenda.”

Brodie didn’t have an agenda, not like Kahlil did, not like Grant or Sutcliffe. Despite his occupation, he was one of the most selfless of the bunch. “So you think I’ll seduce him into agreeing to give up the device?”

“I think women heed emotions and your curiosity is already aflame, I see it. If you want the truth, I am the last chance for any McCormack to have it.”

He tapped the envelope with the end of a finger and took shades from his pocket to slide them onto his face before he turned around and strode out of the room. After the door had closed, she snatched the phone from the hook and dialed nine, but before she hit another digit, she slammed the phone back onto the base.

SIX

She couldn’t call up Brodie and tell him this. She had to be with him so they could discuss it in person. It was her only hope of tempering his reaction to this revelation. Spurred by this turn of events, she wanted to return to the manor, where they could process the development and construct some sort of plan.

Unfortunately, Brodie’s ex would be arriving at CI at some point today and that nixed her ability to flee. Zara needed to stay and use this last chance to make sure that if Kahlil tried to approach CI, without the sweetener, that Cuckoo wouldn’t walk into some disastrous deal without knowing what she was selling. Cuckoo wouldn’t be interested in Future’s Hope, but if offered a bundle of cash her first week on the job, she would probably take it to win favor and prove her ability.

Running to her own office, Zara pulled the box of printer paper from the cupboard and stuffed the reams into the cupboard before locking it again. Returning to Grant’s office with the box, she began to fill it. The first thing to go in was Grant’s laptop, then she seated herself on the chair and pulled out the key from its secret slot to unlock the drawers. She put all of the files in the box, along with Grant’s personal items and any notebooks or paperwork she found.

Keeping Grant’s secrets would be a skeet shoot. Anything that might so much as contain a hint of a secret was put into the box. Once she was done, she left the key in the lock before crouching next to the chair to rip the concealed plastic slot off the underside of the seat. Removing the clue that Grant had something to hide would lessen the chance of Cuckoo’s curiosity being piqued.

Content that she had gathered everything from the CEO’s office, she secured the lid on the box and went to her own office to pack her own computer and personal items. When the lid was balancing on the overfilled box, she put it in the center of her desk and returned to Grant’s office for one last look on the shelves.

Finding nothing of note, she refused to linger because the memories this space conjured were her enemies. Hastening to the exit, she was halfway across the room when a woman walked in, causing Zara to stop dead. The tall Italian was wearing a wraparound dress that clung to her curves. Her long, slender legs were tipped with slick, expensive heels, and when the olive-skinned beauty took her shades from her face, Zara pursed her lips in a smile.

Her tapered eyes had the longest lashes Zara had ever seen, and swathes of black hair hung in large, perfectly sleek curls over her shoulders. “Fuck,” Zara bit out in a whisper.

“Excuse me?” the Italian had a vague accent that made Zara more conscious of her own ordinariness. Cuckoo hooked the arm of her shades into her cleavage. Pointing one foot in front of the other, she sashayed closer.

“Ms. Corvi,” Zara said, reminding herself to be civil to the new head of CI. “Welcome to Cormack Industries.”

The unimpressed glare on Cuckoo’s face was well-practiced. “You’re the welcome party?” Cuckoo asked, and the curl of her lip made Zara try her best to stand tall.

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