Harvestland

THIRTY-ONE

Lightning and thunder tore across the sky. Rain poured from the floodgates of the heavens like the wrath of God.

It was against this backdrop that Eliza saw the intimidating edifice of the Collins Development building. It was a high-tech fortress, sleek and cold against the expansive countryside of agrarian Iowa.

The massive office building was covered in black glass, several levels of tinted windows. In the center of the structure was a hive that branched out in four directions.

It was a long drive up the private road that led to the complex. Eliza put away her cellular. She had made a couple calls to her old contacts at O'Dell and Pritchard so they could start digging into how her and Andrew's bank accounts were tampered with and if anything could be traced.

"Many people in town work right here," Graves said. "Not even just the town, but the county. Surrounding counties too. David III here has done things his father and grandfather never dreamed of. This building here, it's all his. Incorporating all these subsidiaries, his idea. He's got an architectural firm, construction company, lawyers, publicists. He's into advertising, real estate, even private security—all working for him in there. He's planning a new road out here for all the commuter traffic. All this countryside? Soon it'll be residential homes, condominiums, apartment complexes. A couple more years and we'll be the biggest town in the county."

As they pulled into the sprawling and empty parking lot in front of the hive, Eliza saw a large sign listing all the subsidiary companies under the larger heading, COLLINS DEVELOPMENT.

Graves parked the cruiser out front in the fire lane. They got out and jogged through the rain up the sidewalk and wide granite steps that led to the front doors.

Under the shelter of an awning, Graves spoke through an intercom: "Chief Graves."

There was a buzzing sound and the doors unlocked. Graves led Eliza inside. A loud silence met them as the doors closed, shutting out the storm. They walked through a wide marble hallway toward the elevators, their shoes squeaking and echoing in the cavernous space.

They rode up in silence to the top floor, to Collins's luxurious corner office in a penthouse suite. The door was already open. Collins stood tall and imposing by the wall-length windows. Lightning flashed and in silhouette he looked like a menacing mob boss in a b-grade crime drama. He turned around upon their entering. At this late hour he had still made the trip out to his office in typical fashion—three-piece Armani suit and perfectly coiffed hair. He even had a fresh shave.

"Chief Graves, Detective Lehman, a pleasure," he said, sitting down behind his desk as Eliza and Graves fully entered the spacious office, lit by a corner lamp and a desk light. "Please sit." He indicated two chairs in front of his desk.

They didn't move.

"Let's get this over with, David," Graves said. "Detective Lehman has told me what you've done and I'm the only one in this town with enough balls to do anything about it."

Collins looked amused. He said to Eliza, pouring himself a drink from the decanter atop his desk, "Where is your partner tonight, Detective Lehman?"

"He and Noah are watching Sofia," she said.

"Mmm," he said. He leaned back in his executive's chair and smiled. He opened his hands. "Okay. All business, are we? Well, allow me a few pleasantries by at least offering you both a drink. Scotch?" He signaled the decanter.

Still no movement.

"Very well then. Before you both come at me, let me come at you, Detective Lehman. Whatever grievances you may have with me, I have a far greater one with you."