“No, not yet. Come on back to the office. I’ll try to get there later. It’s going to be a while ‘cause I’m all tied up for the rest of the evening. If anything else breaks, give a shout.”

“Right, boss.”

“What’s the deal?”

“I don’t know, Ronda. Someone got a security guy in there and they found all of our stuff. But they also found lots of stuff that’s not ours. Someone else is snooping on Jeff and his guys. Has Jeff said anything that would give you any idea of what’s going on?”

“No. Well, not exactly. He’s been kind of nervous lately. But not more than usual. These guys deal in commodities. That’s an up-and-down kind of thing, so they’re always nervous. I don’t know. What do you have in mind? What kind of thing?”

“Has he mentioned any government agencies, for instance?”

“Is FCC something like that?”

“The Federal Commodities Commission? You bet it is. They’re the ones that regulate Jeff’s business and all commodities traders. What’d he say about them?”

“Nothing exactly. Just he was having a nightmare the other night. Tossing and turning. And he was muttering something about FCC. I didn’t know what it was about. I woke him up.”

“What happened next?”

“Well, I wouldn’t tell just anyone, but since you’ve fucked him and we’ve shared him, I sucked his dick and when he got hard, I fucked him. He came and then went back to sleep. The whole thing took maybe five minutes. Why?”

“I’m not interested in your sex life here, girlfriend. I’m interested in Jeff’s dealings with Bowman, Lyons and Heartland. Look, has he mentioned the FBI at all? My girls said he contacted an FBI guy in a seedy bar. Any idea what that’s about?”

“None. Look, he’s never told me anything about any of this stuff. Sorry.”

“Well, my research shows some strange pricing patterns. It’s just too neat to be chance. I think there’s some stock market manipulation going on here.”

“How can they do that?”

“Fixing prices for commodities.”

“How?”

“Maybe that’s what all the meetings around the world are. He’s meeting with other dealers and they’re setting prices. If the FCC gets hold of that, they’re toast.”

They heard the garage door open and shut. There were footsteps in the kitchen. Finally Jeff appeared in the living room. He looked somewhere between dejected and frantic.

“What’s up?” asked Ronda. Her voice was shaking with anticipation, but Jeff did not notice. He was preoccupied.

“All hell has broken loose. You can’t imagine. The whole corporation is collapsing and I had to get out from under before I got caught under the rubble.”

“What are you talking about?” Angela asked.

Jeff pulled off his suit jacket and untied his tie. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt with a jerk of his neck and said, “Any chance of getting a gin and tonic?”

Ronda saw Angela’s nod and went into the kitchen.

“I’ll help.” Angela followed Ronda to the island.

Angela sliced the limes and squeezed them over the ice cubes as Ronda measured out the gin from the blue bottle.

When they returned to the living room Jeff was slumped into an armchair.

“Okay, what’s the story?” Angela handed Jeff his drink.

Jeff sipped tentatively, and then again more decisively.

“One of the secretaries noticed something suspicious. Some of the bills weren’t in the right place. Then someone noticed that a computer had been accessed. That’s scary shit when you’re in the commodities business. But one of the execs got paranoid. It turned out there was good reason for the paranoia. He brought in a team of security experts and they swept the place. When they did, they started turning up all sorts of spy gadgets. Microphones, phone taps, even cameras.”

Angela struggled to control her expression. Keep the face blank. Show nothing.

Ronda and Jeff both looked at her expectantly.

“Sorry, my mind wandered. My daughter. Boyfriend troubles.”

“Jeff was saying that the FCC is spying on their corporation. They found some bugs.”

“Why would the FCC spy on you guys?”

“Just because it’s the biggest price-fixing ring in the history of commerce since, I don’t know, since Rome had a monopoly on salt or something.” Jeff had finished his drink and was sitting bolt upright. “I wasn’t going to take the rap for that.”

“How do you avoid it?” Ronda asked, her eyebrows arching to emphasize the question.

“I’ve been dealing with an FBI agent who’s been nosing around. As soon as he showed up, I agreed to work with him. I’ve even worn a wire to tape-record some of the stuff my business associates are doing. But I had no idea they had so much spy gear in our offices snooping on us. He must not have believed me. So on the way home, I called and gave him the whole story. I get immunity if I testify against everyone else. Bunch of crooks.”

“What are you talking about?” Ronda’s look of puzzlement became more intense.

“Look, all those trips to Hong Kong, Copenhagen, Tokyo, Beijing, New York… Those were trips for all of us commodity dealers from around the world to get together. To set prices. Bowman, Lyons and Heartland is the eight-hundred-pound gorilla of world commodities, so we told them what the prices would be. They couldn’t argue with us. That’s the way it was. No market. No nothing. We just fixed all the prices of all of our commodities. Soybeans, corn sweeteners, fiber, cooking oil, everything! Everyone else had to follow along or get out of town. Simple as that.”

There was silence except for the clinking ice cubes in Jeff’s glass.

Jeff looked from Ronda to Angela. “That’s against the law. Big time.”

“So you turned them in to the FBI?” Ronda sat stock-still, her face intent.

“I was going to. I was working with the FBI ‘til the agent thought the case was airtight. But then some of our guys got the tech guys in there and they found all kinds of bugs. The corporate brass figured they were FCC bugs and they had the goods on us. But half of them were probably FBI. I’m sure they were checking out my stories. If they’d been tapping our phones, listening in on our conversations, hell, even videotaping us in our offices, they must have the goods on everyone. I guess that was necessary. The FBI couldn’t just believe one guy.”

“So what happens now? Are we going to live in a trailer house again?”

“No. I haven’t fought my way up this high for that. I know it’s been rough on you, honey. I know I’ve neglected you. But you didn’t say anything about it. I thought you were enjoying everything…being rich. See, in my family the guy is supposed to be the big macho hunter and bring back the bacon. That’s the way you show your woman you love her.”

“I’d trade all of this for a trailer court if I could have you. You’re what matters to me.”

“Well, there’s another side to it. It’s fun.”

“As good as sex?” Ronda took a sip of her drink.

“I don’t know. Is Merlot as good as Pinot Noir? Is wine as good as gin? They’re all good, just different. But yes, it’s exciting. Not hard-on exciting like you naked playing with yourself. Or you.” His eyes went to Angela with appreciation. “But exciting like a football game or downhill skiing or rock climbing or something like that. On the edge. You get to a certain place and you want to take it one more step. You don’t think you can fall. But you know you could fall. You know others have fallen. That’s what makes it exciting. The possibility that it’ll all come crashing down around you. And the possibility that you might just pull it off. If you’re smart, when you’re climbing you are sure you can’t fall. You have ropes. That’s what the FBI was. My rope to prevent disaster.”

“But you say that’s what makes it exciting? The possibility that you might fall?” Angela had finished her drink and was sucking the lime.

“Yes. But you don’t want to really fall. You want the excitement, but not the possibility of dying.”