“None,” Bailey said.
“Then that’s the link,” Zoë said. “If Richards is behind all this, he’s got a connection to the Vidal drug cartel.”
“She’s right.” Jed rose from the sofa, grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up for a smacking kiss. “You’re brilliant, and Hadley Richards was a fool to let you resign.”
Ryder tapped on the whiteboard again this time to get their attention. “Before we start to celebrate, we have some work ahead of us. Knowing that there is a connection is a far cry from discovering what it is. But since we have some of the CIA’s best gathered in this room, we ought to be able to dig up something. Here’s the plan.”
15
ZOË STUDIED her computer screen. Ryder had assigned each of them tasks and rooms to work in. He’d taken Gage and Bailey to his business offices on the floor below, and she and Jed were using the equipment he kept in his apartment. Jed had chosen a wireless laptop, leaving her with the desktop computer. Then, without a word to her, he’d moved into the living room.
The action only confirmed what she’d already sensed. He was withdrawing from her just as she’d expected. Once they cleared his name, he’d go back to being Lucifer, and she’d never see him again.
She couldn’t think about that now. She couldn’t allow the feelings swamping her to distract her. Her job was to investigate the corporate holdings of McManus Pharmaceuticals, which was the company that Hadley Richards’s wife’s family owned. Priscilla McManus Richards was the current CEO. Zoë had volunteered to look at McManus because there’d been something nibbling at the back of her mind, the kind of hunch that she sometimes got when she was pursuing a new line of research.
The hunch might pay off if she could just keep focused. It had taken her over an hour, but she’d managed to access a list of the company’s holdings. At first glance, nothing had rung a bell. But she wasn’t giving the list her full attention.
No matter how she tried, she couldn’t stop her mind from circling back to Jed Calhoun and Lucifer.
Why hadn’t she had even a clue that Jed was Lucifer? Shouldn’t she have sensed some connection between the agent she’d been so obsessed with and the man she’d felt such an instant and strong attraction to?
Turning, she glanced through the open doorway of Ryder’s office. She could see Jed sitting at the kitchen island, his fingers flying over the keys of the laptop. In profile, his face had the warrior look that she’d always imagined when she’d fantasized about Lucifer.
Then she thought of the way Jed had paced like some kind of large caged cat when they’d all been brainstorming a short time before. He’d radiated an air of reckless danger that she’d always imagined Lucifer would have.
Now that she thought about it, even Jed’s sense of humor coincided with that dry wit she’d detected in some of Lucifer’s reports.
She should have made the connection sooner. There was only one explanation for why she hadn’t. She’d let that overwhelming attraction she’d felt for both men blindside her.
The same thing had happened with Ethan Blair, she reminded herself. And if she was going to do a thorough analysis of how blind she could be when it came to men, she’d better add Hadley Richards to the list. She might not have had an affair with him, but she’d been so thrilled with his attention and approval that she’d let him use her.
Why was she so stupid when it came to men? She hadn’t seen through Hadley any more than she’d seen beneath the surface of Jed Calhoun. And she’d always prided herself on being intelligent.
A little flame of anger began to burn inside of her. Rising from her chair, she began to pace back and forth in the small office space. She was a doctoral student in psychology for heaven’s sake. It was time she did an analysis of the men in her life.
Her father had never loved her. She didn’t think either of her parents had. They’d only been interested in their work and in what she could achieve in the academic world that would reflect well on them.
Next on her list was Hadley Richards. Hadley certainly hadn’t attracted her in the same primitive way that Jed or Ethan had. He’d been kind, understanding—a substitute father figure. And he’d been the first man in her entire life who’d paid any kind of attention to her. He’d praised her work. He’d offered her jobs that he’d been sure only she could do. Her father had never once praised her work. Hadley had taken the time for her, and she’d been completely overcome by the attention.
Poor, pathetic little Zoë. Disgusted, she nearly kicked her chair. But this wasn’t about her, she reminded herself. This was about the men.