Raven (Kindred #1) by Scarlett Finn Page B

heard to anyone else,” Grant said. “A sale is imminent and I wouldn’t want to disrupt our chances of making a deal.”
    “Of course not,” she said, shaking her head and straightening her spine to display her determination. “But if you need me… if you need assistance. You know that I’m here for anything you need.”
    “I understand,” he said, widening his short smile. “You’re a good girl, Zara.”
    “Thank you, sir,” she said, and he barked out a laugh.
    “We’re long past the need for formalities,” he said, steepling his index fingers under his chin. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”
    “I take my role here seriously,” she said, allowing herself to smile. “And I respect how hard you work and… after all you’ve been through…”
    “Yes, ok,” he said, getting up to come around his desk. Taking her arm, Grant helped her out of her chair and guided her toward the office door. “But ‘Grant’ will do just fine when we’re alone.”
    “Ok,” she said, clasping her fingers around his as he opened the door. “Thank you for trusting me.”
    “Thank you for coming to me,” he said and his warm gaze reassured her enough to relax. “Now get back to work.”
    On leaving his office, she felt much better and couldn’t understand why Raven was so disturbed by a simple business deal. Going back to her own desk, she was sure she’d made the right decision to discuss the situation with Grant who offered a benign explanation. The clients who wanted this piece of technology were determined and Grant was experienced enough to handle them.
    Zara hadn’t gotten as far as logging in to her computer when she blinked and got a flash of Tim’s prone body on the ground. Her outstretched fingers curled into her palms and the frost that crackled over her shoulders lowered her gaze. The men in the parking garage came into her mind. If Raven hadn’t been there to pull her out, to take on those men for her… she could be dead by now.
    Grant made it sound so simple and for a second there she’d been appeased. A deal to sell a piece of equipment, there was nothing sinister about that. But there was something sinister about Tim’s death and something sinister about secret late night meetings when goons congregated in the basement.
    Raven had told her on night one that Detective Kraft wouldn’t be back in touch with her and he’d been right. Grabbing for her purse, she began to search for the detective’s business card. Witnessing the death of a man should give her the right to follow-up on the investigation. Her fingers were working furiously when the phone on her desk began to ring.
    Startled by the noise, it took her a few seconds to register the change in pitch. This wasn’t her standard business line or the internal intercom; this was a call on the second line, the private line.
    Licking her lips, she shifted her purse from her lap onto the desk and reached for the phone. Picking up the handset, she brought it to her ear with excruciating slowness because she wasn’t sure she wanted to be any more entangled in this than she already was.
    “Hello,” she said. “Grant McCormack’s executive assistant speaking.”
    “It’s Sutcliffe,” said an abrupt male voice. “Tell Grant we’re on. Saturday at midnight, the Grand Hotel.”
    “The Grand… ok,” she said. There was nothing threatening in that message and she actually smiled in relief as she stroked her fingertips on her upper arm and tried to relax herself.
    “This demonstration better be successful or he’s going to have a lot of pissed off terrorists on his hands.”
    Shock. The line died, but she didn’t hear the buzz signaling it had disconnected. Frozen in her chair, the snarl in Sutcliffe’s voice stayed with her and with each passing second, her insides got colder. ‘Terrorists.’ The word stuck in her head. What demonstration could be happening in a high-end hotel that terrorists would want to be