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  “Nope. But this kind of thing can take a while.”

  Jessie sighed, thinking of Hatch's irritation with her and how likely he was to spend the entire evening at the office. She did not know if he would even show up at all at her apartment this evening. “I'm not doing anything else tonight.”

  “Let's see what we've got here.” Alex turned toward the computer and went to work.

  Hatch flipped absently through a month-old magazine he'd found lying on the table in Dr. Glenna Ringstead's office. He was beginning to regret agreeing to meet Jessie's aunt this afternoon. But when his secretary had informed him that Dr. Ringstead had called earlier in the day and asked to see him, he had decided to be accommodating.

  He glanced at his watch for the third time in ten minutes. The secretary seated in the small office frowned reprovingly at him.

  “Dr. Ringstead is just finishing up some notes. She'll be with you in a minute.”

  Hatch nodded, thinking privately that he'd give Glenna five more minutes, max. He had better things to do than hang around a shrink's office. The place made him uneasy.

  He tossed aside the magazine and got to his feet. “Mind if I use your phone?”

  The secretary shook her head quickly. “No, of course not. Go right ahead.”

  Hatch pulled the instrument around to face him and punched out Jessie's home number. Still no answer. He tried her office and got the same lack of response. He had been unable to get hold of her since he'd left her at her apartment earlier in the day. He was wondering whether to try Elizabeth's home number to see if she'd gone to visit her, when the inner door of Glenna's office opened.

  “Hello, Hatch. Sorry to keep you waiting. I appreciate your taking the time to stop by this afternoon.” Glenna stood back, smiling her cool, distant smile. “Come in.”

  “What's the problem, Glenna?” Hatch walked past her and examined the softly lit room where she dealt with her patients. He liked it even less than he did the outer office.

  “I would have come to see you at your office but, frankly, I didn't want to risk running into Jessie's father. Vincent would be bound to ask what I was doing there, and since this concerns Jessie, I'd rather not get involved in explanations.”

  “This is about Jessie?” Hatch's sense of uneasiness grew.

  “I'm afraid so. Won't you sit down?”

  He glanced at the chair. It was situated near a table that held a large box of tissues. He did not like the look of it. “No, thanks. I haven't got much time, Glenna.”

  “Yes, of course. You're such a busy man. Just like Vincent.” She gave him a knowing, superior sort of smile and sat down behind her desk. She folded her hands primly in front of her on the surface of the polished wood. “This is going to be a little difficult to start, Hatch. Please bear with me.”

  Hatch made a bid for patience. He could see the woman was not having an easy time with this. “Suppose you start with Jessie.”

  “Yes. Jessie.” Glenna paused, looking past him toward a subtle pastel print that hung on the wall. “I am extremely fond of her, Hatch. I have known her since she was born.”

  “I'm aware of that.”

  “She has always had a difficult niche to fill in our rather unusual extended family. That has come about primarily because, although she has frequently quarreled with her father, she is the only one who can really deal with him on a consistent basis. He is an extremely difficult man. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

  “Sure. She's willing to tackle him when no one else has got the guts to do it. The others have come to depend on her to intercede on their behalf when they want something from Benedict. She does it because she's very loyal to the rest of you and to Vincent. Real simple.”

  Glenna sighed. “That's putting it a bit crudely, but essentially you're correct. That's how it works. Vincent Benedict likes to maintain a strong sense of control. He does it in this family by holding all the purse strings.”

  “The interesting part,” Hatch said meaningfully, “is that Jessie never asks Vincent for anything for herself, does she?”

  “That's where you're wrong. She got into her present role in the first place precisely because she was seeking something from Vincent. As a young girl she wanted her father's attention and love. God knows, Vincent has never given much of himself emotionally to others. He was a distant, rather remote figure all during Jessie's childhood. So she adopted a role that gave her a way to force him to pay attention to her. In all fairness, it was about the only role available to her.”

  “So Jessie sets herself up as everyone else's champion in order to get his attention?” Hatch eyed Glenna curiously.

  “Yes. She's been doing it so long, it's grown into a pattern of behavior for her. One she does not know how to break.”

  “The end result is that she's held the whole bunch of you together in some sort of family. What's the point of this little chat, Glenna?”

  “I'm trying to explain how and why Jessie got herself trapped in this difficult, anxiety-producing relationship with her father.” Glenna hesitated. “And the reason I'm spelling it out is that, as convenient as it would be for everyone concerned, the last thing she needs is another, similar relationship with a husband.”

  Hatch finally understood. He fought down a surge of raw anger. “You're talking about me, I assume?”

  “Yes, I'm afraid so. In all good conscience, I must tell you it would be very unfair to push her into marriage with you. And she's so accustomed to going to bat for the rest of the family that she's liable to let us do just that. In the end she might very well ruin her own life to try to please the family.”

  “Tell me something, Glenna, just what kind of husband do you think Jessie needs?”

  “What she needs and wants is someone who is the exact opposite of her father. A gentle, supportive, nurturing man who is capable of love and friendship. A man who will be family-oriented, not one who will be focused entirely on his work. I am sorry to have to say this, Hatch, but the truth is, you would be very wrong for her. With you she would be repeating the destructive pattern she has established with her father. I'm asking you to think about that before you push Jessie into a permanent relationship. If you care for her at all, you will let her go.”

  “Let go of Jessie? Don't hold your breath.” The cold rage was simmering in his gut now. It was all Hatch could do not to pick up the nearest object and hurl it against the wall. He managed to maintain his outward calm, however, as he started for the door. “I've got news for you, Dr. Ringstead. You may have a Ph.D. but you don't know what the hell you're talking about. I'll make Jessie a damned good husband.”

  He got out of the office without slamming any doors, but it was a close call.

  Let go of Jessie? The woman was crazy. Hatch knew he had never wanted anything as much in his life as he wanted Jessie Benedict.

  A few minutes later he was out on the downtown sidewalk in front of Glenna's office. It was five-thirty and the streets were crowded with people heading home or to the nearest bar. He found a phone inside a department store and tried Jessie's home number once more.

  Still no answer.

  Hatch swore softly as he hung up the phone.

  Ringstead was wrong. He was exactly the kind of man Jessie needed and wanted. Hell, she would walk all over one of those sweet, supportive, gentle types. She and her aunt might think that was what she wanted, but Hatch was sure she'd be frustrated within six weeks if she actually got her hands on that kind of husband. Jessie needed someone who was as strong-willed as she was, someone she respected. Someone who could protect her, not only from her own reckless streak but also from the demands of her family.

  It did not take a doctorate in psychology to figure out something as basic as that, Hatch decided grimly. It was a quite simple man-woman thing.

  Vincent was waiting for him when he got back to his office. He was standing in the hall outside Hatch's door. He scowled and waved a file folder.

  “Where the hell have you been?
What's going on around here, anyway? Lately you've been away from your desk more than you've been behind it. How the devil do you expect to run this company if you go gallivanting off whenever you get the urge?”

  “Back off, Benedict. I am not in a good mood.” Hatch pushed past the other man and went on into his office.

  Vincent followed, still waving the file folder. “You know what this is? It's a report from the construction firm we hired to build the new warehouse for us. The doors arrived today and the damned things don't fit. Can you believe it? They're all going to have to go back.”

  “Benedict, that's a problem that someone on a much lower level than you should be handling. I've told you before, you've got to learn to stay out of the details and concentrate on the big picture.”

  “A whole set of doors that don't fit happens to be a very big picture, goddammit. And there's something else we need to deal with. The Spokane project. We're going to lose out to Yorland and Young if you're not careful.”

  “No loss.” Hatch sat down behind his desk.

  “No loss? Dammit, I want that contract. You said you could get it.”

  “I can and I will if you're dead set on it, but I still think it's not worth the effort. We don't need it. We're moving into much bigger projects now. Leave the penny-ante stuff to companies like Y and Y.”

  Benedict started to argue further and then halted abruptly. “Jesus. You're really pissed about something, aren't you?”

  “You could say that, yes.”

  Benedict's eyes narrowed. “You still having problems with my daughter?”

  “Nothing I can't handle.”

  “Then what's the situation here? Where have you been for the past hour, anyway?”

  “Talking to Glenna Ringstead.”

  “Jesus.” Vincent sat down abruptly and heaved a weary sigh. “No wonder you're pissed. That woman has a way of getting a man's back up without half-trying, doesn't she?”

  Hatch heard the odd note in Benedict's voice and glanced up quickly. “I take it you've tangled with her?”

  “Once or twice.”

  “She try to lecture you about Jessie?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Hatch lost what little was left of his patience. “Benedict, I don't need any obscure remarks. If you've got something to say, say it.”

  Vincent massaged his temples and sighed again. “Glenna and I, we sort of, you know, got involved for a while.”

  “Involved?” Hatch was startled in spite of himself. “You and Glenna had an affair? That's hard to believe.”

  “You're telling me. It was a long time ago. Right after Lilian and I got divorced. Lloyd Ringstead had taken off for parts unknown a short while earlier. It was just one of those things, you know? I was feeling low and so was Glenna. We got together one night and started commiserating. Drank too much. Sort of fell into bed. It happened a couple more times and then we both realized we were acting like fools.”

  “I'll be damned. Somehow I don't see you and Glenna together at all.”

  “Neither did we when we came to our senses. Like I said, it was just one of those things.” Benedict shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I never mentioned it to Lilian or anyone else. Neither did Glenna, as far as I know. We were both kind of embarrassed about the whole thing.”

  “Had she gone back to school to get her doctorate at that point?” Hatch asked.

  Benedict shook his head. “No. But she talked to me about it while we were seeing each other. I told her to go ahead, and offered to help pay for it. Hell, David was just a little guy at the time and his old man was gone. Lloyd had worked for me here at Benedict. A damned smart accountant. But I knew Glenna and the kid didn't have any money. And Glenna was Jessie's aunt, for Christ's sake. And I'd slept with her. I dunno. I guess I just felt like I owed her something.”

  “I'll be damned,” Hatch said again.

  “I'll tell you one thing. I liked her better before she got that degree in psychology,” Vincent confided. “You know, I tried to sort of help David along now and then. But I don't think I did too good a job.”

  “Hey, he's graduating from college and he hasn't done any jail time. What more can you ask? I've known worse father figures.”

  Vincent's brows rose. “Yeah? Like who?”

  “My own,” Hatch said dryly. “A real SOB.”

  Vincent gave him a thoughtful look. “I'll bet mine could have given yours lessons. That is, if he'd stuck around long enough to bother—walked out when I was eight. Never saw him again.”

  Hatch nodded. “Sometimes it's better if a kid's father doesn't stick around.”

  “Yeah. Sometimes. But sometimes I kind of wished I'd had a chance to show the bastard I made something of myself. You know what I mean?”

  “I know what you mean,” Hatch said.

  Hatch did not know whether to be worried or furious when he rang Jessie's buzzer at eight that evening and got no answer. He tried leaning on the button for a while but it was useless. If she was upstairs in her apartment, she was not answering the summons.

  He walked back toward his car and stood looking up at the darkened window of her bedroom. On a hunch, he decided to drive to her office.

  Ten minutes later he found a parking place on the street in front of Valentine Consultations. One glance told him that the lights were off in the upstairs office.

  It occurred to him that she was deliberately avoiding him. He was mentally going through a list of places where she might possibly be at that hour when he remembered Alex Robin. The first step in tracking Jessie down was to ask Robin if he'd seen her that afternoon. Hatch got out of the Mercedes and went to the front door of the office building.

  The door was locked but he was close enough to see the faint green glow in the crack of the blinds. He raised his hand and pounded heavily on the outer door.

  A moment later Jessie appeared in the doorway. “What in the world? Oh, it's you, Hatch.”

  He eyed her from head to toe, taking in the tight faded jeans and silver-studded denim work shirt. As he studied her in pointed silence, she nervously combed her hair back behind her ears with her fingers.

  “You weren't at home,” he said finally.

  She stepped back from the door. “Alex and I are busy. If you want to be entertained, you'll have to go somewhere else.”

  “Damn. I should have known. You gave that printout to Robin, didn't you?” Hatch moved into the hall and strode toward the door of the inner office. Jessie hurried after him.

  Alex was hunched over his terminal. He did not bother to look up. “Hey, Hatchard. Sorry about what almost happened to your Mercedes.”

  “It was a near thing,” Hatch admitted gruffly.

  “Know how you must have felt. Going to get an alarm?”

  “It's on order. For all the good it will do.”

  Alex nodded. “Ain't that the truth? Anyway, I'm glad you're here. Want to show you something.”

  “I don't think Hatch is interested in what we've found,” Jessie said stiffly.

  Hatch threw her a grim glance. “Want to bet?” He turned back to Robin. “Well? What have you got?”

  “DEL has two major data bases. One is a financial program and the other is this climate-forecasting thing.” Alex stabbed a button on the keyboard. “Take a look.”

  Hatch watched as rows of numbers moved across the screen. “A spread sheet. You're into the financial data base?”

  “One of the programs, at least. There's a lot of information here,” Alex said slowly. “Maybe even enough to help us figure out where the money's really going. I could use some professional advice.”

  “Dammit, I'm not going to help you follow that trail. I told Jessie I want her out of this thing.”

  Alex's mouth curved ruefully. “So did her client.”

  “What?” Hatch turned his head to confront her. “You talked to Mrs. Attwood?”

  “That's right.” Jessie picked up a half-finished carton of takeout potato salad and forked up a
bite. “She told me she wanted me to stop the investigation.”

  Hatch raised his brows. “Interesting. You, naturally, are going full steam ahead.”

  Jessie shot him a quick glance and then returned her attention to her food. “I think something happened to frighten Mrs. Attwood.”

  “Then she should go straight to the police,” Hatch said flatly.

  “Probably. But I don't think she will. She was scared, Hatch. I could feel it. I suspect that someone from DEL warned her off. She said it had all been a misunderstanding. But I don't believe a word of it.”

  “Christ.” Hatch shook his head, knowing a losing battle when he saw one. “So what are you two up to here?”

  “Just poking around,” Alex explained. “Trying to find out what's going on at DEL. Our main goal at the moment is to see if we can find out anything at all about the money. But I'm also curious about this climate program they're running.” He punched some more keys.

  “Why?”

  “I've got a buddy up at the university who's into this kind of thing. I know for a fact his programs aren't projecting any ten-to-fifteen-year disaster scenarios. I'd like to see what he says about these DEL projections. I'm going to download them onto some diskettes and have him take a look.”

  Jessie spoke up around a mouthful of potato salad. “We want to see if they're genuine scientific projections or some kind of fake theories designed to fool potential investors.”

  Hatch groaned. “What are you going to do if you do manage to prove the program is a deliberate fraud?”

  “Well, I suppose we could go to the authorities with the information,” Jessie said slowly, obviously thinking through the situation. “After all, fraud is fraud. We can at least get DEL closed down.”

  “And how is that going to help Susan Attwood?” Hatch asked quietly. “If she's a part of this fraud, she's guilty of a crime. Do you really want to push things that far?”

  Jessie gave him a stubborn look. “I just want to see if she's working with DEL of her own free will or if she's been duped. Please try to understand, Hatch. I can't seem to let this go now. I've gone too far with it. I have this feeling that there's something terribly wrong and that my client's daughter is in some kind of danger.”