The interior of Zachary Dorsett’s home was in total disarray. Furniture was ripped open, tables overturned, paintings torn apart and their frames shattered. Cushion foam littered the floor. Watanabe pointed at the fingerprint powder staining the walls and doorframes. “Think we’d find a match here, Grusza?”
Jim Berkind, the bullish executive, groused his way inside. “What is this, your twisted idea of payback? So I got a little aggressive in the conference room that day. Sometimes aggressive is the only way to get the job done.”
“Through here,” Wayne said.
“I don’t appreciate this. Being dragged away from vital work and ordered to drive halfway across the state.”
The kitchen floor was littered with smashed plates and the debris from upended drawers. “Triton has put in a bid to take over Grey.”
Berkind froze in midcomplaint. “That’s insane.”
“Actually, the offer came from Cloister. Which is basically the same thing.” Wayne watched the blood gradually drain from Berkind’s features. “Easton Grey didn’t tell you anything?”
“I’ve spoken to Mr. Grey maybe three times in my life. Tonight he phoned and ordered me out here.” Berkind’s voice had gone reedy. “I said I wouldn’t do it. He offered to send up security to help clear out my desk. He said you’d asked for me.”
“That’s right.”
Berkind took a slow look around the wrecked room. “What’s going on here?”
“Tatyana’s been kidnapped. And Trace Neally’s entire family.”
Watanabe snorted and kicked a wall. But she was listening. Wayne could tell.
“Wait. You’re saying they’re gone?”
“Tatyana and Trace were snatched this afternoon. And the big former cop you met at the airport.”
A hint of color returned to his features. “I didn’t meet him. He attacked me.”
“Focus, Jim. They’re gone.”
Watanabe shook her head. Snorted quietly. But kept listening.
Berkind said, “Grey’s been hit with a takeover bid?”
Wayne laid it out for him. The evidence he’d uncovered, the linked companies, the scam that had brought them there. It wasn’t his best job, but with everything piling in, he had every reason to get the pieces a little jumbled.
Berkind asked, “Why isn’t Easton here himself?”
Because a frail old woman said God told her the CEO should stay with his family. Wayne said, “Call him. He’ll confirm everything I’ve told you.”
Berkind wore his thinning dark hair plastered carefully across his bald spot. He mashed it flat with a hand that trembled badly. “This doesn’t make sense. Why would Triton move on us?”
Wayne saw how Mehan was watching Berkind. Giving him a cop’s look. One that sparked Wayne at gut level. “What’s the matter, Jim?”
“Matter? This changes everything.”
“You were getting a payoff for making this work,” Wayne realized. “Who was paying you?”
Jim turned and faced a cabinet with the doors ripped off.
“Come over here and sit down, Jim.” The man had gone so limp Wayne could shift him with two fingers. “The payee. Is it the same guy who ordered you to confront me in the conference room?” When Berkind remained silent, Wayne pressed, “Tell me who that was, Jim.”
“You don’t know him.”
Wayne heard Mehan start for the guy and raised his hand. Wait. “I don’t need to know him. Was it a board member?”
Berkind’s swallow was audible. “Not Grey’s board.”
“It was one of Cloister’s board, wasn’t it, Jim.”
“How did you …”
“I told you. Cloister is owned by Triton. They want the Grey Corporation so bad it’s got our friends kidnapped and Easton’s home bugged.”
“Oh. So he’s Easton to you now.”
This time it was Watanabe who said, “Focus, Mr. Berkind.”
“They’re working a scam,” Wayne said. “The guy who lived here is part of it too. Or he was. He’s dead.”
The sheen of moisture had spread from Berkind’s forehead to cover his face and stain his shirt collar. “What?”
“He was popped.” This from Mehan. “Two to the heart when he opened his front door. A professional hit.”
Berkind gestured weakly at the surrounding destruction. “This is tied to Triton?”
“Maybe.” Wayne took the executive’s arm. “Let’s go see.”