TriCef wasn’t selling well. Had never sold well.

Unsettling, but only a bit. Because this didn’t make sense. Somebody was buying it. GEM’s profits were on target and the stock price was steady.

He wondered what the head honchos would say about it. As top salesman in a small company, he’d met all three. He didn’t particularly care for any of them—and couldn’t figure Nadia’s near worship of Monnet—but at least they’d been reasonably accessible. Until lately. Over the past months they’d grown increasingly withdrawn, all but moving into their fortresslike boardroom.

Was something going on? Something he should know?

Doug knew this little mystery would keep nipping at his ankles until he solved it. Maybe it was something Nadia should know as well.

Nadj… that was another mystery. How had he lucked onto her? Every day he awoke thankful that he’d found her and that she somehow, miraculously, cared for him.

He had planned to knock off early today anyway. Why not spend some of the afternoon looking into it? He had hours before he was to meet Nadj for dinner. That should be enough. He was an expert with the investigating tool he planned to use: his computer.

He was sure there was a logical explanation, but at the moment he couldn’t imagine what it could be.

But if it was findable, he’d find it. He smiled as he started the car. This could be fun.

12

“How many old tires can you scrape together?” Jack said into the phone in the Ashe brothers’ office.

He’d come to terms with Frank and Joe on the when and how of the delivery; now he had to arrange for the payload. For that he’d called Sal Vituolo.

“Old tires?” Sal said. “Christ, I got tires up the freakin’ wazoo. They ain’t good for nothin’ though, ‘cept maybe dumpin’ in the ocean.”

“I’ve got another use for them. Can you put together a truckload?”

“You kiddin’? I can put together two or three. What you gonna do with a buncha old tires?”

“Trust me—you’re going to love it. Pile them in the back of your biggest truck and I’ll be by later to pick them up.”

“This got something to do with the little matter we talked about earlier?”

“It do.”

“Awright! You got ‘em!”

As Jack hung up he wondered what sadistic uses Sal was imagining for those tires. He turned to Frank and Joe.

“It’s a go.”

Frank grinned through his droopy mustache. “Gotta hand it to you, Jack, you sure do come up with some fun stuff.”

“Boy’s downright evil,” Joe drawled.

They sealed the deal with a handshake; then Jack headed back to the car. Gia and Vicky had seen all they wanted of the aircraft and were waiting for him. He reminded himself to call Nadia when he got back and let her know that her fix-it was being cofinanced by another party, so she’d only have to pay half the usual fee. Sal, however, would pay full fare.