sharply with the winter-paled, buttoned down legal types seated to either side of them. She pointed her pen at each in turn.
"Mr. Mosher and Mr. Delavan -- you've been very helpful. We've verified all the material you gathered in your private efforts to help Mr. Caldwell. On the strength of your findings, we have taken statements from the project crew, some of whom have worked on other VolTerre sites. We’re looking into allegations of hiring irregularities and kickbacks, shoddy construction practices and more.
"The time has come for the two of you to bow out. We simply can't have private citizens endangered while they poke around in what is the province of this task force. More to the point, with at least three ancillary investigations under way, anything further you might uncover will more than likely be duplicated by others. And while you might be able to pursue an unofficial investigation, it won't be legal and could jeopardize the official operation."
She looked from one man to the other, saw their disappointment and softened her tone. "Look, I know how important it is to you to help your friend. You can be proud of what you've accomplished. On the other hand, we can't afford the distraction of worrying about you, your families or your businesses. The best way to help from now on is to let us concentrate on guarding those most directly involved. You'll really have to abide by our decision." She looked at them pointedly. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Do we have any choice?" Eric asked.
"None."
The men nodded in assent, shook hands all around and left.
The meeting continued with status reports from two members of the lawyer's staff who were digging into Terence Conlon's finances and connections. He seemed to have the proper credentials and to move in the right circles. From time to time, he'd incurred enormous debts paid with infusions of money that so far proved untraceable. His partner proved even more difficult to pin down. Invisible as well as silent, he had deftly avoided all efforts to identify him. Police Captain Gerald Mahan's frustration was obvious.
"I'm beginning to think he's a bloody ghost," he muttered, evoking smiles around the table at his adoption of Ethan's favorite swear word. When he realized what he'd said, he turned to Ethan. "You mind?"
Ethan laughed. "Hell, no. What's a little lend-lease between Aussie and Yank?"
Mahan laughed also. "Except you're from Boston originally, aren't you?"
"Yes," Ethan replied. "In fact, Pete and Eric and I were school chums 'till my family left." He glanced over at Dominique Santorelli. "It meant a lot to find them in my corner when I needed help." His tone left no doubt about his displeasure at seeing his old friends dismissed.
His rebuke sent a mild blush to her cheeks. "I'm sure it did. I regret hurting their feelings, but that's better than regretting any real harm they could have suffered. As you have already discovered, we're dealing with a rough crowd."
Pete and Eric were unassuming, decent men with families and businesses, who'd put themselves at risk to help an old friend. Neither would have backed away voluntarily. Jordan was glad to see them out of the line of fire, despite their disappointment over missing out on "all the fun," as they'd referred to coming events. With boyish enthusiasm and many references to the Three Musketeers they'd been in their youth, they'd preferred to view this as an adventure, just as Ethan had told her they would.
Dominique was right. Far better that they got out early with their fantasies and lives intact. For the rest of them, nothing would ever be as it had been before the adventure began.
Drew touched Jordan 's arm, gesturing that Dominique was looking at her. The women smiled at each other. Different as they were, they'd hit it off immediately.
"What have you got for me today?" Dominique asked. "Any surprises?"
"Not really. This was all grunt work - comparing your biographical data on Conlon to mine, correlating
"Mr. Mosher and Mr. Delavan -- you've been very helpful. We've verified all the material you gathered in your private efforts to help Mr. Caldwell. On the strength of your findings, we have taken statements from the project crew, some of whom have worked on other VolTerre sites. We’re looking into allegations of hiring irregularities and kickbacks, shoddy construction practices and more.
"The time has come for the two of you to bow out. We simply can't have private citizens endangered while they poke around in what is the province of this task force. More to the point, with at least three ancillary investigations under way, anything further you might uncover will more than likely be duplicated by others. And while you might be able to pursue an unofficial investigation, it won't be legal and could jeopardize the official operation."
She looked from one man to the other, saw their disappointment and softened her tone. "Look, I know how important it is to you to help your friend. You can be proud of what you've accomplished. On the other hand, we can't afford the distraction of worrying about you, your families or your businesses. The best way to help from now on is to let us concentrate on guarding those most directly involved. You'll really have to abide by our decision." She looked at them pointedly. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Do we have any choice?" Eric asked.
"None."
The men nodded in assent, shook hands all around and left.
The meeting continued with status reports from two members of the lawyer's staff who were digging into Terence Conlon's finances and connections. He seemed to have the proper credentials and to move in the right circles. From time to time, he'd incurred enormous debts paid with infusions of money that so far proved untraceable. His partner proved even more difficult to pin down. Invisible as well as silent, he had deftly avoided all efforts to identify him. Police Captain Gerald Mahan's frustration was obvious.
"I'm beginning to think he's a bloody ghost," he muttered, evoking smiles around the table at his adoption of Ethan's favorite swear word. When he realized what he'd said, he turned to Ethan. "You mind?"
Ethan laughed. "Hell, no. What's a little lend-lease between Aussie and Yank?"
Mahan laughed also. "Except you're from Boston originally, aren't you?"
"Yes," Ethan replied. "In fact, Pete and Eric and I were school chums 'till my family left." He glanced over at Dominique Santorelli. "It meant a lot to find them in my corner when I needed help." His tone left no doubt about his displeasure at seeing his old friends dismissed.
His rebuke sent a mild blush to her cheeks. "I'm sure it did. I regret hurting their feelings, but that's better than regretting any real harm they could have suffered. As you have already discovered, we're dealing with a rough crowd."
Pete and Eric were unassuming, decent men with families and businesses, who'd put themselves at risk to help an old friend. Neither would have backed away voluntarily. Jordan was glad to see them out of the line of fire, despite their disappointment over missing out on "all the fun," as they'd referred to coming events. With boyish enthusiasm and many references to the Three Musketeers they'd been in their youth, they'd preferred to view this as an adventure, just as Ethan had told her they would.
Dominique was right. Far better that they got out early with their fantasies and lives intact. For the rest of them, nothing would ever be as it had been before the adventure began.
Drew touched Jordan 's arm, gesturing that Dominique was looking at her. The women smiled at each other. Different as they were, they'd hit it off immediately.
"What have you got for me today?" Dominique asked. "Any surprises?"
"Not really. This was all grunt work - comparing your biographical data on Conlon to mine, correlating
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