wanting her to go away. He’d contacted his sister as soon as he was conscious, but she’d seen nothing and heard nothing that might indicate an attempt on her life. She promised to have her husband let the base commander know.
Then again, living on a military base in a foreign country tended to insulate anyone from the rest of the world. With no attempt on Patty, the shootings might not be related to his parents’ deaths. He couldn’t be sure though. He’d asked Baxter to check on the woman responsible for his family’s murders, for the arson, see if either she or the arsonist had been paroled.
Maybe it was her, but that seemed improbable. It had been more than a decade.
“And sir, there’s considerable press.” Alexia broke into his circling thoughts. “Mr. G’s publicists have suggested a statement. Would you like to prepare it or see something they’ve worked up?”
“No, just have them take care of it.”
“Yes, sir. Are you comfortable enough to read through some things? We’ve been stalling the VanRoss paperwork, but they’re getting antsy.”
Gates had to smile at that. He’d written a database program and registered the copyright. VanRoss had come looking for him with a deal to license and sell it. “I’ll bet they are. Sure, give it to me.”
“Yes, sir. This will be easier at the house,” Alexia added, in her perky way, smiling at him as she handed him a portfolio and file folders, then bustled about to get the sliding table arranged just so. “I have to leave the floor to make calls.”
“I’m looking forward to sleeping all night,” he said by way of agreement. “It’s noisy here.”
“Yes, sir,” Alexia said. “I’ll be back in a bit if you need anything. I’ve got to ride down several floors to get a signal.” She waved her bright pink, bespangled phone.
He didn’t answer her, since he was already opening the envelopes, diving into the work to take his mind off of Ana. Everything reminded him of her, of their time together. The nurse wore dangly silver earrings. They were nothing like the ones Ana had worn, but they made him think about the curve of Ana’s neck, the shape of her ears.
Alexia had on shoes with a silver sheen, which reminded him of Ana’s elegant dress shoes for the event. He had only the vaguest memory of her getting into the limo ahead of him, the flash of those silver shoes.
“I did the right thing, damn it,” he muttered, forcing himself to focus on the contracts. “I can’t get her killed too.”
Ana buried the unimaginable hurt in sleep. Mother Nature took over and shut her down for a full fifteen hours. She woke in the dark and wept, and when that brought no solace, she went back to sleep until morning sun, streaming in the windows, woke her.
Like a robot, she dressed and went to work. The minute she stepped onto the floor, Pearson headed her way, diverting the others, many of whom had gotten up from their desks as Ana left the elevator.
“Boss wants you,” she said, walking Ana all the way to the door, like a visitor. Ana squared her shoulders and knocked.
“Status, Burton?” Pretzky said when Ana came into her office. “Shut the door.”
Frowning, Ana did, then took the seat Pretzky indicated. “Status is null at this point. I’m running some other leads. Suddenly all the other victims are willing to talk to me.” She smiled, a wry twist of the lips. “I expect Mr. Gianikopolis had something to do with that.”
“No doubt. Any trouble with the interjurisdictional pissing match you’ve stirred up?” she said, grimacing. “You sure know how to do it right.”
“Sorry,” Ana said, not knowing what else to say. The locals and the FBI had gotten involved now, and Baxter, even as county, was in the mix since he’d taken all the initial information and was the point of contact on other incidents at the estate.
Pretzky had barred Ana from doing anything on the shooting, citing orders from IAD. Knowing she’d be monitored, Ana had resisted running checks on the people from Gates’s background, his business associates besides Dav. She itched to do it, but with everyone breathing down her neck, and Gates sending her away, essentially dumping her, she didn’t know what to do. Any tracking she did would send up flags, mark her as disobeying orders. With her hearing pending, she dared not make waves.
Anyway, she was staying the hell out of it.
“Forget it, let them sort