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he’d scheduled a two o’clock meeting with his office staff. It could be postponed. That night he had to attend a banquet for incoming freshmen at NYU. He wanted to skip that, too, but he knew a few of the attending alumni. It would be in his best interest to attend just to rub el bows with a few of Wall Street’s movers and shakers. One never knew.
    “Herbert, take me to the office.”
    The old driver nodded his acquiescence and rammed his foot on the accelerator, weaving in and out of traffic. Twenty minutes later they stopped in front of the Empire State Building, the home of Pemberton Transport’s main offices.
    Nick got out of the car, gave a casual wave to Herbert, then bolted toward the building. He didn’t want to explain where he’d been for the past hour. Stuffing his hands in his pocket, he felt the small square card Dr. Warner gave him. Dr. Reeves. Nick wasn’t sure if he was going to call the guy or not. He’d have him checked out first. If, and that was a big if, he was sick, he would make damned sure he had the best medical care money could buy.
    After going through security like everyone else who entered the building, he rode the elevator up to the thirty-second floor. Rosa, his personal secretary, greeted him in the usual manner. A drink—coffee in the morning, tea in the afternoon—and the latest editions of the Wall Street Journal, the Washington Post, the Japan Times, and London’s Financial Times were customarily on a large coffee table, waiting for his perusal.
    “Mr. Pemberton.” Rosa followed him to his private office. She placed a pot of tea on a side table next to a comfortable sofa. She’d spread the newspapers out for him to view.
    Nick removed his jacket, loosened his tie, and relaxed into the plushness of the cushions. “Thank you, Rosa.”
    “Will you be needing anything for this afternoon’s meeting?”
    Damn! He’d almost forgotten. “Yes. I want it canceled.”
    “But—”
    “No buts, Rosa. Just do as I say. I’ve had some terrible news that I have to deal with. Tell the staff I’m unavailable until further notice.”
    “Yes, sir.” Rosa was short and chubby, with coffee brown hair and matching eyes. She’d served him well the past fifteen years, though lately she was becoming a bit too nosy for his tastes. He’d make a note to watch her. If she got out of line, she would be replaced in minutes. Pemberton Transport’s employees were just that. Employees. As his father always said, “If you’re too nice, they’ll screw your eyes out. Too stern, and you’ll be doing the work of fifty.”
    Normally, Nick tried to achieve a happy medium. However, it wasn’t a good day. He needed silence in order to make plans for the future. If something were to happen to him, the business automatically went to Chelsea. While she was smart, Nick knew she’d sell out in a heartbeat if given the opportunity. If only he’d had a son to inherit everything, one he could’ve molded to be just like him. Sadly, as long as he was married to Chelsea, it wasn’t going to happen. Besides, they were too set in their ways to bother with a child. And too old, he thought.
    He took his personal cell phone from the bottom drawer and called Jason Vinery, a very discreet and very expensive private detective he kept on the payroll. Just in case.
    Jason picked up on the first ring. “JV Investigations.”
    “Two things,” Nick said.
    “And a good afternoon to you, Mr. Pemberton.” The last was said with a great deal of sarcasm.
    “I don’t have the luxury of time. I need you to check out a doctor.” Nick looked at the card palmed in his hand. “An Evan Reeves. An oncologist. And I want you to find out the name of a woman I recently…met. I was in Chicago. She was staying at the Fairmont. Find out her name. Then I want a background check on her. See if she’s had any sexually transmitted diseases.”
    “And if she has?” Jason prompted.
    “It’s none of your business,” Nick said