Point of Control by L.J. Sellers Page A

think that’s why he didn’t tell me much about the job offer.”
    “Tell me the words he used to describe it.”
    Flustered now, Mrs. Bowman twisted the ring on her finger. “I think he called it a startup. And he said the money would make him filthy rich.” Her mouth tightened in anguish. “That’s when I knew he planned to leave me, because he said it would make him rich, not us.” She burst into tears.
    Bailey jumped up from her barstool and stepped back, irritated by the crying sounds. She had to get the widow talking again or get out. “Did your husband say anything else about the company or the job offer?”
    After a moment of sobbing, the widow finally choked out, “He mumbled something about sacrifice , but I don’t know what he meant.”
    “Thanks. You’ve been helpful.” Bailey headed for the door. What kind of sacrifice? A move to work somewhere else? Or more likely a cash payoff in exchange for giving up all rights and credit for any potential discovery.
    In her car, she realized she’d forgotten to offer condolences to the widow. Oh well. Words didn’t change anything.
    She wanted to question the mistress, but they hadn’t found her yet. Bailey keyed ZoGo into her GPS and started the rental car.
    The phone rang in her hand. A California number she didn’t recognize. “Agent Bailey.”
    “Mike Shatner with the FAA returning your call.”
    “Thank you. What did you find out?” She’d asked him to track down all the small-craft flights that had been registered to fly when and where Bowman’s body had been found—on the off chance the kidnappers had signed in.
    “Three flights Saturday morning in that area: MidValley Agriculture; Ross and DeVinter, a law firm; and Celltronics.”
    Score. The startup device manufacturer was near the top of her suspect list. “Do you have the name of the pilot?”
    “No, there was some last-minute change.”
    “Thanks.” Bailey hung up. She loved having leverage going into an interrogation. She deleted ZoGo from the GPS search field and typed in Celltronics . She would investigate the other company as well, but she had to follow the obvious lead. What strategy would she use with the CEO? Careful at first, probing without accusing. Asking for his help, rather than putting him on the defensive. She could be intimidating and usually enjoyed it, but she saved the tough-guy act for when it was most effective.
     
    Celltronics sat between two other businesses in a little manufacturing mall on Phelan Avenue. A newer building with a bright exterior and no landscaping to water. Another car waited to pull into the hub from the other direction. Bailey gunned her rental and turned in front of it, a small thrill just to keep her juices running. She parked in the only open space, pleased that she’d been aggressive. Whatever saved her time. This case had too much going on to waste even ten minutes.
    She strode to the entrance, unimpressed by the facility. Did they actually manufacture phones here? More likely, they were produced in a foreign country, like most other tech products. China made a good portion of them, which explained why it had quit exporting rare earth metals. Their supply was running low, and they had to keep their own factories operating. South Korea and Vietnam were likely hurting from the shutdown too, but the United States, which imported materials from all three countries, was in the most serious trouble.
    Inside, a young receptionist chatted on the phone. It sounded like a personal call. The woman held up a finger, indicating Bailey should wait a moment. The twit. Bailey pulled out her badge and commanded, “Hang up, now!”
    The receptionist went silent and her mouth dropped open. She started to say something, but Bailey cut her off. “This is a federal investigation. Where can I find Mark Ziegler?”
    The receptionist blinked, as if confused, then said, “He’s in the first office on the left.”
    Bailey walked away without comment. There