Читать книгу The Pregnant Colton Bride - Marie Ferrarella, Marie Ferrarella - Страница 13

Chapter 6

Zane’s first thought was he needed to get rid of whoever was on the other side of his office door before Mirabella emerged from his bathroom. That seemingly innocent event could very easily start rumors and rumors of any sort were the last thing he needed to deal with right now. He’d learned from personal experience that people were capable of taking a tidbit of what they perceived to be information and somehow wound up spinning the complete works of William Shakespeare out of it.

Crossing quickly toward the door, Zane pulled it open.

Any thought of sending the person off instantly vanished when he saw who it was.

In his midthirties and balding, Meyer Stanley had a slight build. He obsessively maintained ramrod straight posture in an effort to appear at least a little taller than his five-foot-five-inch stature. He succeeded only in making himself look like a determined swizzle stick when he walked.

His most outstanding feature, despite the black framed glasses he wore—or perhaps because of them—was his eyes. As he walked into Zane’s office, Meyer’s eyes appeared so huge, they were almost startling.

To say Zane was surprised to see the IT expert was putting it mildly.

“I just talked to you a few minutes ago,” Zane said. Had Meyer forgotten to add something?

Meyer bobbed his head up and down. His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them back up with a jerky motion of his index finger.

“Yes, I know.” The three words came out sounding almost breathless.

Zane took a guess as to why the man had felt compelled to suddenly rush over. “Did you find out where my father’s money was being wired?”

Again Meyer nodded vigorously in response. When he spoke, his voice had dropped several octaves from its usual high-pitched tone. But before he spoke, he looked furtively around, as if he wanted to make sure there was no one else in the room who would overhear what he was about to say.

“I thought it was best if I came to tell you this in person.”

Zane had worked with Meyer for a couple of years now, albeit in a different division, and knew the man had a flair for the dramatic. But this was a level he’d never witnessed before. Zane had absolutely no idea what to expect.

An uneasiness began to work its way through his system, although he continued to maintain a perfect poker face.

“Go ahead.”

“The regular transfers from one of your father’s bank accounts—when they were being made,” Meyer qualified, trying to be painstakingly accurate, “were going into an encrypted bank account belonging to—”

Meyer paused, not for any sort of dramatic effect, but because he was obviously nervous about the disclosure he was about to make.

Zane couldn’t remember ever seeing the IT expert behave this way. Just how damning was this discovery Meyer had made?

“Go ahead, out with it, Meyer,” Zane ordered. “Who did the account belong to?”

Meyer swallowed. “It belonged to—”

A noise from the side of the office caught his attention. Meyer looked around Zane’s arm and he saw the bathroom door being opened. Someone was coming out.