“My assistant will be joining us to schedule meetings for everyone.” Another wave of panicked murmurs started. “There’s no reason to panic. I want—and need—to learn more about the projects you all are working on. I should have done that sooner. That’s on me. I would like to speak to everyone, although you can decide if you’d like a one-on-one appointment or to come in with your team.”
The tone of the room started to shift to a less fearful one. “In the meantime, this lab will be shut down for the rest of the week. You’ll all receive your pay as if you’d worked. Your project deadlines will be adjusted to reflect the timing.”
“Any last questions?”
She studied the gathered scientists as they shook their heads and murmured no.
Satisfied she’d handled the situation for now, she opened the door and let security in.
Chapter39
The next morning,Portia’s first stop wasn’t her office. Instead of going up to the executive levels, she went down to the holding cells. The closer she got to them, the harder it was to breathe. The very thought of returning to them filled her with dread. She hadn’t been back since the day Leopold, her father’s assistant, shot her.
Her steps slowed as she got off the elevator. She rubbed her left hand over her right shoulder. There was barely a scar thanks to Tremaine Corporation technology, but down here near the cells, her shoulder throbbed with phantom pain.
Memories assaulted her and Portia paused, overwhelmed. She’d been sure she was going to die down here with the madman who had killed her husband. Instead, Dizzie had rescued her when she could have used the time to escape.
Portia still found that hard to believe. Wracked with grief, Portia had been perfectly willing to end Dizzie’s life in revenge for Tommy’s. With a strength of character Portia admired, Dizzie had taken down their tormentor and dragged Portia to safety.
She owed Dizzie her life. That was a damn hard pill to swallow. But holding a grudge was wearing her down. With the clarity of time, Portia was beginning to see that maybe, just maybe, they could forge a relationship of a sort.
That was a matter for later. Right now, Portia still needed to kill the Vyne program, deal with her father, and get the Solveigs out of her city.
Her shoulders drooped for a moment. It was too much for one person to deal with. So, she would deal with it in chunks. The Vyne scientists and the drug cookers were the first chunk.
She passed a number of empty cells. Everyone in the company had heard whispers and rumors about this floor, but most of them, including Portia, didn’t know how often it was used. Honestly, she didn’t want to know what had been done down here in the past. She was only using the holding cells now because she didn’t know what else to do with the scientists. They were a flight risk and she couldn’t risk them setting up shop in a different city. No one deserved the scourge that was Vyne.
She kept her gaze forward and her steps quick as she passed the cell that had held Dizzie. In such close proximity, it was too easy to relive the terror of those moments. Did her blood still stain the floor? She didn’t want to know.
Breathing easier once she was past that cell, she approached the guards she’d stationed outside the two cells. One held the two scientists. The other held the two cookers that Ash and the Jack had rounded up yesterday. They’d offered to keep them, but Portia had asked that they be transferred here. They were all part of the same problem. One she had yet to uncover a solution to.
“Have they said anything?” Portia asked. The guards had been here overnight because she hadn’t wanted to risk a shift change. The fewer people who knew what was happening, the better. But she was treading a very fine line. The longer she held the scientists down here, the more shift changes she would need and the more chances that people would find out what was going on.
“Nah. Not really, ma’am. Those two,” one of the guards said, pointing to the scientists, “kept begging to be let out. The other two spent the night making threats.”
Portia raised a brow. The scientists’ behavior didn’t surprise her. Neither of the men looked like they’d ever faced true hardship. The threats from the cookers were interesting, though. “What kind of threats?”
“‘Do we know who they are. We’re gonna pay. We can’t keep them here.’”
“Oh, those kinds.” She was relieved that there was no indication of a higher leadership level to the external Vyne business.
Portia studied the cell holding the scientists. Like most of the cells, this one had a cot and a chair. Throwing them in a single cell had been a calculated risk. She wanted them tired and afraid.
One was seated on the chair, the other on the cot. Both stared out the glass walls of the cell. The men looked wrinkled and disheveled. One still wore his lab coat, while the other was down to shirt sleeves. Neither looked like they’d had a good night’s sleep. Good.
“I’m going to have a little chat with the scientists,” she told the guards. “I’d like you to wait outside the door in case there’s trouble.” She didn’t expect any, but after the last time, she didn’t want to take unnecessary chances.
The guard frowned. “I think one of us should be in there with you, Ms. Tremaine.”
Portia wanted to agree, but she recognized the need to project an image of strength, especially with the street cookers looking on. “I’ll be fine.” She patted his arm reassuringly.
With a nod, the guard opened the cell.
She took a deep breath and walked into the room alone. The moment the glass door closed behind her, her heart rate picked up and her hands started sweating. Propping her hands on her hips, she used the movement to wipe her sweaty palms on her slacks.
Both men awkwardly rose to their feet. “Ms. Tremaine,” one started, but she cut him off with a glare.
“Sit.” She pointed to the cot.
