I’m curious. I open my door wider. “Please come in and tell me all about it.” Yet I stop Jeff as he comes through the door. “I’d rather you left your gun in the car.”
He’s impressed. “How did you know I’m carrying?”
“’Cause you look like a cop.”
“Really?”
“It’s a compliment.”
Minutes later they are sitting in my living room. I offer them fresh coffee, which they gladly accept. For a vampire, I’m unusual—I drink more coffee than blood.
Unless I’m mistaken, they are both “nice people,” and I’m not afraid they intend to harm me, at least not directly. A superficial scan of their minds has told me that much. But the fact they know my old alias is not good. They could damage me by talking about me with the wrong people. A few years ago I had a serious run-in with the FBI—and the U.S. Army, for that matter—and I doubt they’ve quit searching for me.
Once we’re comfortable, I cut to the point.
“I assume when you say your old boyfriend was researching the firm you work for, you mean he was hacking into their computer files,” I say to Lisa.
My insight surprises her. “How did you guess?”
“What better way to get dirt on a company?”
“Why do you assume they’re dirty?” Jeff asks.
“Your tone when you speak about them. You sound angry.” I turn to Lisa. “What’s the name of your old boyfriend?”
Lisa is uncomfortable. “Why is that important?”
“He’s snooping around files that contain information about me. I deserve to know his name.”
Lisa replies, “Randy Clifford. I only asked him to look into IIC because I noticed highly irregular patterns in their investments.”
“Why isn’t Randy with you today?” I ask.
“He disappeared not long after we asked him to hack into IIC’s system,” Jeff explains.
“When was the last time you spoke to him?” I ask.
“A month ago,” Lisa says sadly.
“But you say this is an investment company. They hardly sound like the type that would have people whacked. I assume it’s staffed with stockbrokers and lawyers and accountants?”
Lisa nods. “Yes. And one mathematician. Me.”
“What sort of work do you do for them?”
She spreads her hands helplessly. “For the first six months I wasn’t sure what I was doing. They’d hand me reams of papers filled with numbers and order me to search for patterns. It took me a while to realize they were records of their investments. For some reason, in the last two years they’ve begun to make only ten percent a year on their money, rather than their usual twenty-five percent.”
I almost choke on my coffee. “There’s no investment firm in the world that gets that kind of return on their money.”
“IIC does. Or at least they did,” Lisa said.
“Did you figure out why their returns have dropped?”
Lisa hesitates. “No.”
She’s lying, or at least she knows more than she’s willing to say.
“This is all very interesting, but what brings you here?”
“We told you, your name came up when Randy hacked into their system,” Jeff says. “IIC even had this address. That’s how we were able to find you.”
I’ve lived in Missouri only two months. No one should have my address. “In what context was I mentioned?” I ask.
“Randy was looking into that when he vanished,” Jeff says. “All we know is that IIC considers you ‘a person of interest.’ That’s how you were described in their files.”
“Where does Randy live?” I ask.
“Manhattan,” Lisa says. “He works for an investment firm on Wall Street, Unlimited Investments Incorporated, or UII. But here’s the real kicker. After he hacked into IIC’s system, he realized it was indirectly connected to a half dozen investment firms, his own included. In fact, that’s how he was able to break through IIC’s firewall. It was familiar to him.”
“Are you saying all these companies are really one and the same?”
“Yes,” Lisa says.
“Aren’t there laws against such things?” I ask.
Jeff nods. “Sure. But as far as Randy was able to tell, IIC and their partners are simply fronts for a single gigantic investment firm.”
“Which is called?”
“That’s the point. It doesn’t have a name. It’s not supposed to exist,” Lisa says.
“This sounds like it has all the makings of a complex conspiracy story. But I still don’t see what it has to do with me.”
“Surely you must be curious why IIC is interested in you?” Jeff asks.
I’m extremely curious, but I respond casually. “I’m a person of some wealth, although I prefer not to advertise the fact. I’m sure, like any other investment firm, that IIC keeps a record of wealthy individuals.”
“You weren’t just on a list,” Lisa says. “They had a whole file on you.”
“Why didn’t you say that at the start?”
“I’m saying it now!” Lisa snaps, and I can tell she’s not angry at me, but at her company for making her old boyfriend disappear.
“What else was in my file? Besides my name and address?”
“We told you, Randy was looking into it when he vanished,” Lisa says.
“Randy did say the file spoke of you as having a ‘lengthy history,’” Jeff says.
“What does that mean?” I ask, but it’s easy for me to imagine the true answer.
“We don’t know,” Jeff replies.
Lisa leans toward me. “You don’t appear to be worried that IIC is obsessed with you. Frankly, I’d be very worried.”
“Because of what they did to your old boyfriend?” I ask.
“That’s the tip of the iceberg,” Jeff says. “The more we dig into IIC and their partners, the more we discover how big and powerful they are.”
“They may be the richest company in the world,” Lisa says.
“And no one knows their name,” Jeff adds.
I shake my head. “How do they make so much money on the market?”
Lisa hesitates. “We don’t know.”