Christian let out his breath in relief.
“Then you’ll submit a sample of your handwriting for analysis?” Gabrielle asked.
“Yes.” Roger glared daggers at her.
“Thank you. If you’d sign your name several times on one side of a piece of paper and write Christian’s name on the other side, I’ll present them to the handwriting expert later today.”
Roger dropped into his desk chair, snatched a sheet of paper from his drawer and proceeded to write violently on it. The pen scratched sharply enough that Christian wondered why it didn’t tear right through the paper.
Neither Christian nor Gabrielle said anything while Roger filled the sheet with handwriting. His face got redder when he had to write Christian’s name. When he finished, he thrust the page at Gabrielle.
“Thank you. I need to ask the same question of all your other employees, and I need the contact information of the intern who worked here when the Densmore was being built.”
Roger opened a file drawer and pulled out a number of manila file folders. “Here are all the interns for the past two years. Now I’ve got work to do, since my business partner is otherwise occupied.”
It was a direct hit to Christian’s solar plexus. But he’d pull his weight. “Give me a copy of the most recent financials so I can get back up to speed. And if there’s something you can hand off to me today, give me that as well.”
Roger glared at him for a moment, then pulled another folder from his drawer and handed it to Christian. He grabbed a stack of papers and drawings from the corner of his desk and shoved them into Christian’s arms without a word.
Christian tried to offer his partner some hope. “I’ll be back to work full-time as soon as we find out who forged my name.”
“If there’s a business to get back to.”
Christian took the hurt as his due. How would he feel if Roger accused him of something like this? He’d lash out in pain, too.
When they were in the corridor with a door between them and Roger, Gabrielle spoke. “I’m sorry. We had to rule him out.”
He took his frustration out on her. “Yeah. He’s only the man I own a business with. Who needs trust with him?”
Christian stalked away from the scene in Roger’s office and Gabrielle sighed. She felt like she’d kicked a puppy.
His secretary narrowed her eyes when she saw him. “Roger’s never raised his voice to you before. What’s going on and what has she got to do with it?” She pointed at Gabrielle.
There was a hard look in the secretary’s eyes incongruent with her bimbo figure. There was more to this woman than most people would guess. Of course, most men wouldn’t look past the triple E-sized chest.
“We need to talk to you away from the front desk,” Christian said. “Please come into my office.”
The secretary sashayed down the hall. Her skirt and blouse were tight, displaying her feminine assets quite well. A woman like Brittany could easily capture any man’s attention. Gabrielle disliked her on sight. She hated that Brittany worked with Christian, which made no sense at all.
Christian’s office was a direct contrast to Roger’s. Where Roger’s desk, tables and file cabinets had been covered with folders, drawings, papers and what looked like Lego sets, Christian’s office was pristine, as though he hadn’t been here in awhile. The only thing out of place was a blueprint tube with a letter attached to it on top of his desk.
Christian ran his fingertips across the glossy wooden desk top. When he glanced at the letter attached to the cardboard tube, his lips flattened. Then he looked up at his secretary.
“Brittany, someone signed my name on the revised Densmore drawing. As much as it pains me to ask, I need to know if you did it.”
“What? Did Roger put you up to this?”
“No. Did you have anything to do with forging my signature?”
“No, I didn’t. And if you or Roger try to pin that on me in order to fire me, I’ll sue so fast your heads will spin.”
“Why do you think either partner would want to fire you?” Gabrielle asked. Something about Brittany’s reaction was odd.
Brittany licked her lips in a suggestive manner. “Why do you think they’d want to fire me?”
Message received loud and clear, whether it was the truth or not. Was Brittany sleeping with either or both partners and now one or both of them were done with her and it was awkward to see her at work every day?
“We need samples of your handwriting to confirm your innocence.” Gabrielle gave the same instructions she’d given Roger.
Brittany slanted Gabrielle a deprecating glance before she sidled around Christian’s desk and eased herself into his chair, making it a sensual act between her and the leather seat. Then she began to write.
Christian wandered the office, touching things with his fingertips. His manner was possessive, but sadness surrounded him. Once again, his vulnerability tried to pull Gabrielle in.
“There.” Brittany thrust the paper toward Gabrielle.
Gabrielle took it and intentionally touched Brittany’s hand during the exchange. She wasn’t prepared for the graphic vision that filled her mind.
A naked man with black hair was hunched over Brittany having torrid sex with her. From the edge of the bed where he stood, he pulled her kneeling body into his desperate thrusts with a lusty grip on her large breasts. Her head was thrown back against his in passion, her hair hiding his face.
Gabrielle tore her hand away. She didn’t want to see any more of Brittany and the man she thought was Christian. She tasted bile in her throat and thought she’d be sick at the idea of the two of them together. Worse, she thought less of Christian for giving in to his base needs with a woman like Brittany. Someone like him who dreamed of innovation should want something different, not something every other man lusted after.
“Is that all?” Brittany’s tone was businesslike to Christian, but her glance at Gabrielle was cold.
“Yes, thanks, Brittany,” Christian said.
Was that residual warmth in his voice toward his former lover, Gabrielle wondered? A woman scorned had an excellent motive for revenge.
“I’ll go get Jeremy Barrett,” Christian said to Gabrielle. “Roger’s son joined the firm last year.”
As soon as Gabrielle was alone, she took the opportunity to look over his things so she could learn more about the man. There were two awards for design on the bookshelf. The books were an eclectic mix of designs of buildings, gardens, houses, bridges and other structures. She paused at a couple of books about physics. He’d said the Densmore plan had been based on physics theories.
Pulling one book free, she thumbed through it. There were post-it notes tacked to several pages. The first bookmarked section dealt with opposing forces, and she remembered Christian talking about resisting gravity. He truly had researched his ideas, not just drawn something that looked innovative.
As she flipped to the next marked section, a piece of paper slipped out and floated to the floor. It was a note on DesignCorp letterhead:
Kit,
It sounds right to me.
J
A picture formed in her mind.
A thirtyish man with dark hair and glasses stood with Christian in front of a remote control. Both men wore goggles.
“Ready?” the man name J asked.
“Yeah,” Christian said.
There was a small explosion and a rocket lifted into the air not far from them. Both men whooped.
As the vision faded, Gabrielle smiled.
Christian had a friend at DesignCorp close enough to call him by his nickname. Even his secretary, someone who might have been his lover, called him by his legal name.
“What’s that?” Christian asked from right behind her.
She jerked in surprise and guilt that she’d been contemplating his love life again. She handed him the paper. “This was in your book.”
“Oh. It’s nothing.”
“Who’s J?” she asked.
“Jake Patoni. He’s a friend of mine.”
“I can tell by how he addressed you. Do you normally bounce ideas off him?”
“Only when they’re radical. It saves our company time and money if the designs are feasible up front. I met him at U of M when I was there. He’s an engineer.”
“So you spend time with him during your off hours?”
“Yeah. Jeremy isn’t here. He’s out at the West Park site.” He frowned at something. “We’ll either have to try to catch him there or at another time.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to be at my lawyer’s office at two. That’s on the opposite end of town from the West Park site, so I can’t hit one before I have to be at the other.”
“I’ll go see Jeremy, then your brother.”
“I want to be there when you talk to Paul.”
“I want to see as many people this afternoon as possible. I can’t wait for you to finish with your lawyer. Who knows how many hours you’ll be tied up.”
“You could see the other subcontractors on the list.”
“Christian, it makes more sense to visit the suspects in the order of importance. The closer a suspect is to the job, the more motive he or she would have to forge the drawing.”
“Please, Gabrielle. I need to be there.”
Sighing, she gave in. “Fine. But call me the minute you’re finished with your lawyer.”
“I’ll do that.”
“You want to give me the intern’s name and contact information so I can track him down?”
“Sure. Give me a couple of minutes to figure out the timeframe and go through the files.”
As Christian sat down in his black leather chair and pulled the personnel files Roger had given him toward him, Gabrielle returned to her interrupted study of his office.
The framed prints on the wall were spectacular views of famous suspension bridges. She wondered if he’d wanted to build bridges instead of buildings. It was a limited field, so maybe he’d thought his job prospects were better in commercial construction.
But her instincts said he’d stayed close to his family. She knew his parents were dead and Paul was his only sibling. Christian worked with Paul’s best friend. Yes, he’d tied himself closely to his brother’s life. There was nothing wrong with that, but a man as arrogant in his profession as Christian Ziko could create on a grander scale if he left home. The inconsistency about Ziko peaked her curiosity.
“Here you go.” Christian held out a piece of paper to her. “I’m sorry, but it could have been one of two interns during that timeframe. I couldn’t pin it down any tighter.”
“It’s not a problem. I’ll investigate both of them.”
As they walked past Brittany’s desk, the woman just nodded. But Gabrielle noted the secretary’s gaze was still on them as she passed through the outer door. Was it personal or professional interest, she wondered?
They went to their separate cars, to go their separate ways, her to build a case against a suspect, him to build a defense for himself. She was sure each was equally determined to succeed. But did each have as much to lose if they didn’t?
Attorney Bryce Gannon was a cold, emotionless man whose blue eyes could hypnotize prey with their piercing intensity. Christian had always thought blond was a warm hair color, but not on Bryce. He’d removed his suit jacket and the shirt underneath was blinding white and starched to perfection. He was in his late thirties or early forties and well preserved.
Why would Paul be friends with a man like this?
“You look a lot like your brother.” Bryce gestured to a maroon leather chair in front of his desk.
Christian hadn’t expected to hear anything personal from this impersonal man. He sat stiffly in the chair, uncomfortable to be here. “Paul said you could help me.”
“He told me about the grand jury indictment and what happened at the Densmore. Why don’t you give me your side of the story?”
Immediately Christian felt antagonistic toward the attorney. He’d battled Paul and Roger’s doubts, and now it appeared Bryce was infected with them as well.
He rose to his feet. “I don’t know how you got the impression I might be guilty, but I’m not. There’s no ‘side’ to the story. I’m innocent and I have nothing to hide. Period.”
Bryce held up a hand. “Hold on, Christian. I never said I thought you were guilty, but your brother inferred you may have made a mistake on the drawing which led to the collapse.”
Christian’s fists clenched. “That’s a goddamned lie. That drawing was altered by someone else who forged my signature.”
The look of cynical forbearance on the lawyer’s face infuriated Christian.
“Christian, Paul told me what Sean Bergman said about your mental state. This sounds like paranoid delusion to me.”
Damn their fraternity. Apparently even Paul couldn’t be trusted with HIPAA access. Christian was never going to use another one of Paul’s frat brothers again. “We’re through here.” Christian turned to leave.
“Wait a minute. What did I say to upset you?”
Christian continued toward the office door. “I’m sure the American Bar Association will recommend another attorney. Oh, by the way, if Alex Kernfelter calls, tell him you’re no longer on my case.”
As Christian opened the door, a powerful opposing force slammed it shut.
Bryce was right behind him, his eyes blue flames. There wasn’t anything cold about him now. “Your brother asked me to defend you, and I’m damn well going to do that.” It was practically a snarl.
“Get your hand off the damned door.”
“What did Alex Kernfelter have to say?” Bryce asked.
Christian yanked the door partially open. “Not that it’s any of your business since you’re not defending me, but he’s going to testify that it’s not my signature on the blueprint.”
Bryce released his hold on the door. “Sit down, Christian.” His voice was calm and controlled once more.
“I don’t think so.”
“Listen, I owe your brother this. Come hell or high water, I’m going to defend you to the best of my ability, which is a lot in this town.”
“I’d rather you defend me because I’m innocent, not because you owe my brother a debt.” What kind of debt could Bryce possibly have incurred from Paul?
“If Kernfelter’s going to testify in your defense, that’s a good enough endorsement of your innocence for me.”