Free The Desperate Game by Jayne Castle Page A

himself. But in other ways it had been curiously exhilarating. It had been a long time since a woman had affected him like that. He wondered if Guinevere had experienced any trouble getting to sleep.
    Russ Elfstrom's approach through the shadowy bar cut off further speculation on the subject of Guinevere Jones. Automatically Zac glanced at his watch. Russ was only a few minutes late. He watched his friend coming toward him and thought about how little Guinevere liked the man. Not unnatural under the circumstances. After all, it had been Russ who had finally caught up with her little scam on the StarrTech computers.
    "Sorry I'm late." Elfstrom apologized as he took a seat. "Got held up with a conference in Starr's office. He wanted a report. I told him I'd be able to give him a more complete one after I'd talked to you."
    "Is Starr getting restless?" Zac considered that possibility.
    The chief executive officer of StarrTech, Hampton Starr, was paying the tab after all. It would be unfortunate if he got impatient at this stage. Very unfortunate. Zac had been counting on the StarrTech fees paying the rent next month. He'd even entertained fantasies of buying another office chair.
    "You know CEOs, Zac. They're always restless. They want answers yesterday." Elfstrom looked up as the waitress floated past. "Gin and tonic." He removed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and shook one out as the waitress nodded and disappeared.
    "Well, he's going to have to give me a little more time. Jesus, Russ, it's only been a few days!"
    "I know, I know. I told him these things take time. Don't worry, I soothed the savage beast for you." Elfstrom snapped the flame on a stainless steel lighter and lit his cigarette.
    Zac smiled. "I appreciate it."
    "No problem. He'd like a meeting with you again, though. And soon." Elfstrom coughed hoarsely and frowned.
    Zac shrugged. "Okay. I'm always available to the client. But I thought he wanted you to handle the, uh, interfacing." He was proud of himself for remembering the buzzword.
    "He just wants a field report firsthand. Find out anything last night?"
    Zac shook his head. "It looked like Bender hasn't been there for about a week. Wherever he is, he's not sitting at home hunched over his computer. Does he drink? Gamble? Use drugs?"
    "Not that I know of. Never saw any sign of it at work. You think he's gone off on a spree?" Elfstrom drummed his short, stubby fingers on the table.
    He did look a little like an elf, Zac found himself thinking as he watched his friend. Always in motion, hyper, intense. "I don't know what's happened to him, and I don't even know if it's got anything to do with StarrTech's problem.
    Bender's house was just a place to start looking." You had to start somewhere.
    "Yeah, right." Elfstrom nodded quickly, speaking around the cigarette. "I'm not trying to push you, Zac. I understand how you work."
    Zac winced. "Slow and methodical, that's me."
    "You're thorough. That's what counts. The Jones girl give you any hard info yet?"
    Zac wondered how Guinevere would like being labeled the "Jones girl."
    "No. I get the feeling no one in your office knows anything, Russ. I'm thinking of pulling her off the case."
    "You're assuming she'd tell you anything she found out," Russ said half-accusingly. "Personally I'm not so sure."
    "She'd talk, Russ. She'll keep her end of the bargain, believe me." But Zac realized he wasn't really so sure of Guinevere. In the beginning the straight blackmail had seemed simple and likely to be effective. Now he had his doubts.
    "Well." Russ hesitated and then shrugged. "Your instincts were always pretty sound." His teeth gleamed in a fleeting smile as he caught Zac's eye. "This is just like old times, isn't it? You and me sneaking around in some bar to exchange information. Been awhile."
    "Do you miss working for the company?"
    "No. Life is short, Zac. Too short to spend it risking my neck in some godforsaken, backwater country advising some fool U.S. firm on how