The Merchant of Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

glowingly.
     
    “ What’s the address and the name
of his friend?”
     
    ‘Um, we’re on North Ocean Boulevard, there’s a small
shopping center with an ice-cream shop on the corner. I saw some mail in the
kitchen with the name of David Jones. Why? Do you know him?”
     
    I didn’t know him, but I Googled his name quickly while she talked. He was the president of a small defense
related company located in Virginia and Texas, and had served in Afghanistan,
first in the Army and later returned as a  hired contractor. “What was
Jones doing” I wondered, “with this pseudo- businessman named Roger and how did
they know each other?” Then it occurred to me that this defense company must be
one half of the merger deal he was talking about.
     
    Sarah continued talking. “We woke up at about 10:30 and
took a stroll along the beach, but we had to be careful because   there’s a lot of jellyfish. Oh I’ve got news! I asked
Roger to move in with me. We get along so well, we have a lot of fun, and I
hope you get to know him better. He works in New York and Madrid mostly; he’ll
live with me for the time-being and travel for business. Why don’t you come
over for drinks when we get back tomorrow night?” she asked, trying to get me
worked up into a positive mood but I wasn’t sharing her enthusiasm. In fact, just the opposite.
     
    “Sara, don’t you think this is going way too fast? You
just met him a few days ago; you know very little about him, this is crazy,” I
said, emphasizing the “crazy”.
     
    “Caroline, you worry too much, your job, whatever it is,
has made you paranoid!”  she said, emphasizing
the “paranoid.” Our conversation was clearly at a standstill. Although there
 was  a mountain of work for me to do to  complete  the
 network integration evaluation to get it  ready to send to  Ft.
Bliss in the morning, there was also  the palpable feeling of something
gravely amiss  that required investigation that night.  
     
    “Okay, okay. I’ll be there.”
     
     
      
     
    CHAPTER 7
     
      
     
    It was time to put some of our equipment to use in
checking-out this arms dealer who dropped-in out of nowhere to chase Sara.
  In pursuit of that objective I put a voice digitalizer in my pocket, one that was loaded with software that
put the sound of his voice into a code which when matched against a database at
work would identify the person speaking.
     
    That night I drove to Great Falls and pulled into Sara’s
circular driveway.  The gravel crunched beneath the tires so that Roger
and Sara must have heard my arrival. The house was a large sprawling,
French-style, country estate. The landscape was perfectly symmetrical and
orderly, with 4 small cement statues, two children standing in the flower beds,
and two dogs with baskets clenched in their teeth on either side of the door.
When I rang the doorbell Roger answered, beckoning me inside with a grand
gesture of his arms as if he were the master of the
house and we were old friends.
     
    Sara had done a lot of work on the house over the past month, everything about the house was impeccable. Entering
through the front door, the living room was to the left, painted in pale gray.
 Around the windows hung custom-made silk drapes from Thailand in a deep
purple, which were hemmed, sashed and tasseled.  A  French chandelier from the 18 th century dangled from
the ceiling. The mantle was of Italian marble, and upon it she
 had placed a bust of George Washington. Eighteenth century
landscapes hung on three walls, the fourth wall was covered with book cases
filled with antique leather bound volumes. The dining room to the right was
beautifully done in deep blue with an eye for classical detail, wainscoting up
to the level of the windows and a mahogany dining room table in the center with
a silver vase stuffed with roses, as a center piece. The kitchen was done in
yellow and white, with granite countertops, and  French chairs