of her boot began tapping against the carpet in annoyance, just like his tenth-grade English teacher, Mrs. Pegram. “Katanga is not to blame for the greed of one or two employees,” she lectured. “Don’t you have judgment enough to see that it must remain intact, despite an unscrupulous director? And what if that money is actually for something legitimate?”
“Nobody pays a hundred grand in cash!” How could anyone be so naïve? “That payment is under the table. As in not legal, and I’m putting a stop to it.”
“I don’t dispute the possibility of corruption.” She pointed to Roz as the chimp tugged on a side table’s brass handle. “Look at her. That’s what’s at stake. Even if what you say is true, under no circumstances can you jeopardize the work done here.”
“That’s hitting below the belt. I like animals, too.”
“Then keep Katanga out of it.”
He shook his head. “Not possible.”
“I’ll help you find a way.”
No. Absolutely not. The last thing he needed was a busybody dentist with Nancy Drew tendencies. “Stick to polishing hippo teeth and stay out of this.”
“Too late.” She stared him down. “I’m already involved whether you like it or not.”
“Well, I don’t like it. Not one bit. This isn’t a game, Miranda Parrish. The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be. You and your husband need to do whatever you came for and go home.”
“I’m not married,” she said coolly. “I believe you’re referring to my assistant, Jason.”
She still remained unimpressed with his hard cop attitude. And she wasn’t married.
“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “We have a problem. I’m now compromised. Your silence is necessary to the success of my mission. The only question is…what to do about that?” He stared at her with his best intimidation tactic, hoping to scare some sense into her.
It didn’t work.
“Think about this,” she cajoled. “I’m on the inside, have access to things you don’t. Your investigation could be resolved twice as fast with my help.”
“I don’t want your help. I want your silence.”
“And I want to preserve Katanga.”
This wasn’t working. “You obviously don’t understand the serious nature of the situation. Dangerous men are involved, and you can end up hurt, or very, very dead.”
“Or maybe it’s a hollow threat from a man who doesn’t like interference. Either way, I won’t be brushed off.” She rescued a glass paperweight from Roz and put it back on the desk. “If you can’t promise Katanga remains unscathed, then you’ll have to accept my help.”
“I’ll have to—” He couldn’t believe her. “What does it take to get through to you?”
“How about a better explanation?”
They were getting nowhere. He glanced at his watch. Not much time left before the lunch crowd returned. Okay, something simple and watered down then.
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He rubbed at his chin, scratching the day’s growth of beard. “Botswana has a small smuggling problem. It’s my job to track crime rings and break them up.”
“If you mean diamonds, I know. It was a side note in my college thesis regarding the perils of African wildlife.”
Great, she probably knew just enough to be trouble and too little to make her wary. “Don’t get ideas of some grand conspiracy. If its diamonds, and I’m not saying it is, it’s probably small potatoes.”
“How reassuring,” she said.
“Look, we need to get out of here before the secretary returns. Let’s cut to the chase and ease your mind. If Katanga is being used as a front, I’ll try to quietly take out those involved. As long as they cooperate. Agreed?”
“On one condition.”
“It’s not negotiable.”
“Everything is negotiable.” She grabbed Roz away from a bowl of plastic fruit and settled her on her hip again. “As a veterinarian, I have greater access to the database than a janitor. Which, by the way, you need to work on a little stronger. I didn’t buy your act. Most janitors I know don’t pick locks. Nor do they have razor sharp eyes with a calculating gleam. You might try toning that down a bit.”
Did she actually just insult him? “I’ll have you know several people have thanked me for the quality of my janitorial work!”
“Really? That’s more gratitude than I got at the airport when I saved your life.”
“Saved my life? Are you serious? I’ve faced bigger guns than that little firecracker he carried. I could’ve handled the situation without your help.”
“Well I saved you the trouble and never heard one thank you.” Roz squirmed in her arms, and she adjusted her hold.
He just stared in disbelief. “Interfering is a habit of yours, isn’t it?”
She looked like she wanted to throw something at him. “Of all the ungrateful—”
“We don’t have time to argue.” He headed for the next room and she followed.
“Admit it,” she persisted, “I can help you. Especially if you tell me exactly what you’re looking for.”
Man, she was stubborn. Whether he agreed or not, she’d get involved. It would no doubt be smarter to keep her occupied and under his watchful eye. Problem was, she’d be in real danger if discovered. And he didn’t know her. Trust was much too risky.
Still, he needed to come up with something. “You must promise not to do anything rash,” he said. “If you blow this investigation by snooping, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“I know how to be discreet.”
Things had now become way more complicated than he liked. But maybe, just maybe, she could stumble across something useful. “All right, then.” A sinking feeling told him he’d regret this. “I’d like a look at animal shipments. Names, dates, and origins would be helpful.”
“That I can do. How far back?”
“A year would be good, six months will suffice. And whatever you do, keep a sharp eye out. Don’t do anything stupid or attract suspicion. Got it?”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
He scowled at her, seriously worried about the wisdom of what he’d just agreed to. But there was no arguing the point now. Good or bad, the deed was done.
“Come on,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter 8
Miranda thought she could sneak into the animal nutrition area, commonly known as The Tank due to metallic walls and a deep square shape, but should’ve known better.
“Where’ve you been?” Jason asked the second her foot crossed the threshold. “It’s not like you to be late.”
She opted for a convincing lie. “Got trapped in a conversation about the States.”
“Been there, done that.” Jason scooped up a glob of liver-colored vitamin paste and smeared it on chunks of raw meat for the big cats food supply.
She’d missed lunch, but the vile smell of that paste effectively killed her hunger. Miranda tied on a wrap-around apron and washed her hands before joining Jason and Mikal, Katanga’s nutritionist, at the wide stainless steel table. Letta pushed her way through the double doors just then, carrying another tray of meat cut in smaller chunks for the servals and young cheetahs.