The Last Protector(Clayton White #1)(35)
“You can’t risk that,” White replied, surprised she’d even consider attending the meeting. “Can’t you postpone?”
“My father insisted I stay in Fort Worth for the time being,” she replied. “I’ll connect with the team remotely.”
White heard her groan. “What’s up?” he asked.
“I’m trying to access my SkyCU account, but I keep getting kicked out. I can’t log in.”
He heard the clicking of her keyboard and mouse pad in the background. It was a sound he knew all too well. Veronica often worked in bed late at night, and all that typing and clicking more often than not put White right to sleep.
“That’s weird,” she said. “It’s never happened before.”
“Maybe they’re updating their systems,” White suggested. “Is the mobile app working?”
“Updating the servers wouldn’t prevent me from logging in,” she replied, her tone impatient. “And yes, I was just on Drain. It’s working.”
Noting how aggravated she seemed to be, White asked, “Anything I can do from here? I can stop by their office if you want. I have the time, you know, now that I’m unemployed.”
His attempt at humor fell flat. “I’m not kidding, Clay,” she said, her tone dead serious. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“What’s going on?” White asked, suddenly alert.
“You know my dad has been against Drain from the start, right?”
“He did mention it to me once or twice,” White replied. “He’s afraid of you traveling the world without adequate protection.”
“Well, that’s just it,” Veronica said. “I think that isn’t the entire story.”
White had no idea where she was headed with this. The Secret Service agent in him kind of agreed with her dad. It would be difficult to protect Veronica twenty-four seven if she spent months overseas at a time.
“His point about your protection is valid,” White offered. “Especially after San Francisco, I think—”
Veronica cut him off. “I know. I already told him I wouldn’t travel until I get the all clear from the Secret Service.”
“Then it’s settled,” White said.
“I thought so, too, but when I mentioned that the new version of Drain would launch anyway, his whole demeanor changed. He wasn’t happy.”
That didn’t make much sense to White. “Did he tell you why? I’m sure there’s a good explanation.”
“No, but I can’t help but wonder if he has anything to do with me not being able to access the servers.”
“No. No way, Vonnie. That seems too far fetched,” White said. “I know your dad, honey. Why would he care if the revamped mobile app launches or not?”
“That, Clay, is exactly what I’m wondering. I have to find a way to get back to California. I’ll call you later.”
“What? California? You can’t,” White said. “We don’t have enough information about tonight’s attack, Veronica. Listen to your dad and stay in Texas for a little while. It’s the best way to keep you safe, okay?”
There was no reply. “Vonnie?”
White looked at his phone. His fiancée had hung up on him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Oxley Vineyards
Kommetjie, South Africa
Oxley, who was now on his fourth drink, had been more than a little anxious to hear back from Krantz. So when his phone rang, he picked it up right away.
“Please brighten my day, Abelard,” he said. “How did it go?”
“No issues in San Francisco. Van Heerden’s men have been silenced.”
At last some good news, Oxley thought. “What about Palo Alto?”
“Palo Alto was interesting, to say the least,” Krantz replied. “The start-up is done for, like you asked, but I was interrupted by three special agents from the CID. They broke into SkyCU while I was still inside.”
Oxley stopped breathing. The CID? “I assume you left them there?”
“Correct.”
“How sure are you they were really from the CID?” Oxley asked, running his fingers through his hair.
“Their military identification cards looked legit,” Krantz said. “I took pictures of their faces. I’ll send them to you.”
In a burst of rage, Oxley threw his tumbler across the room. It smashed against a bookcase, missing by less than a foot the expansive aquarium his wife had gifted him for his fifty-fifth birthday, showering glass, ice, and single malt on the hardwood floor. This entire operation was rapidly degenerating into a full-scale fiasco.
He needed to regain control over his emotions. Oxley prided himself on his ability to remain calm, whatever was thrown at him.
“Please do,” he told Krantz, wondering what the CID presence meant. There was no way Hammond could have identified Oxley’s involvement in the attack on his daughter so quickly. Then another possibility occurred to him.
From the corner of his eyes, Oxley noted movement. It was his wife. Adaliya had entered the study without knocking, a worried look on her face.
“I’ll look into our options and get back to you with a new set of instructions,” Oxley said, gesturing Adaliya to stay put, afraid she could step on broken shards of glass and hurt herself. “For now, I want you to get the hell out of San Francisco and find a place to hunker down until I contact you again.”