Free The Next Victim by Jonnie Jacobs Page A

recommend in a similar situation.
    Nash checked his watch. "Is there anything else? I'm sorry to cut this short but I have a meeting in a few minutes."
    "You mentioned options and insurance," Kali said. They hadn't been on her mind when she came in, but since she was here, she might as well gather what information she could.
    "There's a company policy for one and a half times annual salary. You and your sister are the beneficiaries, though I have to warn you most of John's compensation came in the form of bonuses and options, not salary."
    That John had listed her came as a surprise to Kali. No matter what the sum, she was oddly touched.
    "It's with Global Mutual," Nash continued. "We've already notified them of John's death, so I imagine you'll be hearing from them soon. I'll have Alicia make sure you've got the necessary documents."
    "Alicia?"
    "John's secretary." Nash rose from his chair. "And as soon as we've had a chance to go through his office, we'll box up John's personal effects and get them to you. Where are you staying?"
    "At John's. My sister and I both."
    He nodded. "If there's any way I can help, please give me a call." He looked at her straight on, his eyes intense but warm. "I mean that."
    Kali slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door. "I appreciate your taking time to speak with me. I know you're busy. I can find my own way out."
    Nash started to follow, but when his phone rang, he nodded a farewell in Kali's direction instead. "Your brother will be missed around here."
    Kali brushed past an empty secretarial desk and started down the carpeted hallway she'd come in. But instead of continuing straight to the front exit, she took a left near the water fountain.
    Waiting for the company to send John's things was well and good if all she was interested in was salvaging some commemorative letter opener or paperweight and stale packs of chewing gum. But Kali wanted a glimpse of the unsanitized John. She wanted to sit at his desk, to look through his drawers and papers, to get a feel for where, and maybe how, he spent his days. After so many years of keeping John at a safe distance, she now wanted to know everything about him.
    And it couldn't hurt to talk to his secretary.
    Passing a middle-aged woman carrying a stack of file folders, Kali did her best to appear lost. "Excuse me. I'm looking for Alicia. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere."
    "You sure did, honey." The woman pointed her down the hall in the other direction. "Alicia's just past the stairwell, John O'Brien's office." This last was accompanied by a catch in the woman's voice.
    Kali thanked her and headed back. Beyond the stairwell, the hallway fanned out into a sort of anteroom leading to two large offices. She passed first by Reed Logan's empty office, then came to the plaque that listed John's name. A Bridget Jones-plump young woman with long, scarlet nails and a cherubic face was engrossed in sorting the mail on her desk.
    "Hi," Kali said. "Are you Alicia?"
    The woman jumped and looked up. "Oh! I didn't hear you coming. Yes, I'm Alicia. Are you here to see Mr. O'Brien? He's"--she brushed the ash blond hair from her face, her expression sober--"he isn't available right now."
    Kali pulled up a chair. "I know. I'm his sister, Kali O'Brien."
    "Oh." Alicia appeared flustered, then distraught. "I didn't know you were coming in today."
    "It was a spur-of-the-moment decision."
    "I'm really sorry about what happened. If there's any way I can help..."
    "Thank you. This must be a difficult time for you, too."
    Alicia nodded and took a deep breath. "It is. He was a great boss. Demanding sometimes, but always fair. And if I messed up, he didn't yell or anything. Just told me to make it right."
    "How long have you worked for John?"
    "I started about a month after he did. That would be a little over three years now." She blinked back tears. "Sorry. Seems like all I've been dong lately is crying. First Mrs. Winslow, now your