Page 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

S eth flipped onto his back, trying to get comfortable but his bed had morphed into a hard plank. Jetta’s harsh words, coupled with her revelations about her ex, had him tossing and turning. Hearing how her ex had treated her had ignited a flame of anger he thought long doused. In the quiet of his bedroom, images of his mother whimpering as yet another man thought he had the right to use his fists on her face because of some perceived slight invaded his mind. Seth had learned it didn’t matter the reason—the men wanted to prove their power over his mom, and, by extension, him.

The timing of Jetta’s breakup suggested someone else might be the father of her child, but something about her haunted eyes made him question whether Kyle had left her alone. Jetta’s fragility made him want to slay whatever dragons she battled, much as his younger self had attempted with his mother. Which brought him to the real reason he couldn’t fall asleep.

Did he care for Jetta only because he sensed she needed protecting? Could he be mistaking love for his own need to keep a woman he cared for safe? Those questions tumbled around his brain like clothes in a dryer.

To distract himself, he picked up his phone and began scrolling through social media. Then he migrated over to his email to find Leslie Updike, his FinCEN contact, had sent him a message at 11:13, two hours ago.

Seth,

I checked with the guy who originally looked into the embezzlement allegations before Ainsley’s death, and he said he’d recommended not arresting Ainsley because the evidence was circumstantial at best and “rather flimsy.” He said the only thing tying Ainsley directly to the missing funds was a bank account in Ainsley’s name in the Cayman Islands, which had been opened a few months before the investigation commenced. So not long enough for Ainsley to have siphoned off the millions of dollars Topher Robotics claimed he had taken.

Also, his notes indicated the agent had called the bank and asked to see the documents Ainsley supposedly sent to open the account, but the bank had no records of which documents had been used, which is against standard procedure at that branch. I verified this with the bank directly as well. Since you’d sent me Dolores Green’s name, I asked about her account too. Same thing—no notation of which documents had been submitted to verify her identity.

Seth paused in reading to draw his own conclusion from what Leslie found out—that anyone could have opened the two accounts and made those electronic deposits. Then he continued reading her email.

The other interesting thing is that Topher Robotics laid claim on the funds in those two accounts and the bank wired the money back to Topher after the company presented documents showing Ainsley and Green had illegally taken the money. I asked to see the documents in question, only to be told the paper copies had been shredded and the online notes only said “documents.”

This whole thing smells of yesterday’s catch. And before you ask, I think bribes were paid to the Cayman Islands bank to obscure the accounts and their activity, but after all these years, there’s too little of a paper trail to prove it.

You owe me more than a coffee for this!

Leslie

Seth sent a quick thank you to her, then forwarded the email to Jetta with a short message:

Not great news but I don’t think we should be too discouraged. Talk soon. Seth

His phone buzzed in his hands. Brogan’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hey, Brogan.” Seth glanced at his watch to note the time. One-fifteen. Late for even his colleague to call unless there was breaking news that needed a photographer. “Another fire?”

“No. Do you know where Jetta is?”

Seth frowned. “At her house asleep, I hope. Why?”

“I just got an anonymous call on my office line from a burner phone.”

Fallon had insisted his reporters forward their office landlines to ring to their personal phones after hours in order to not miss any scoops.

“The caller, who took care to disguise their voice so I haven’t a clue about gender, said Emily Ainsley could be found at Tibbit’s Hill Cemetery.” Brogan coughed, then continued. “It’s in Sterling, out Route 28 past Dulles Airport.”

Seth couldn’t believe it. It sounded too fantastical to be true. “Did the caller say how they knew this info?”

“No, they simply repeated Tibbit’s Hill Cemetery and hung up. I tried calling back, but it rolled to an automated message saying the caller hadn’t set up the mailbox, so I couldn’t leave a message.” Brogan paused, saying something under his breath about late-night drivers. “I’m nearly to your house.”

Seth was already slipping into jeans. “I’ll meet you at the end of the driveway.”

Brogan disconnected without bothering to reply.

As he shoved his bare feet into a pair of sneakers, Seth contemplated texting Jetta with the news. But if it did prove to be a wild good chase, it would be best not to worry her. Too much anxiety couldn’t be good for the baby, and Jetta was already carrying around more than enough.

Soon Seth slid into the passenger seat of Brogan’s SUV and clicked his seatbelt into place. “Have you called the police?”

“I thought you might have the contact number to make things easier. I’d really rather not have to get a dispatcher to understand the urgency without knowing the background.”

“Good idea.” Seth checked the notes app on his phone for the contact info of Detective Oldfield, then punched in the number.

The detective answered after five rings, his voice sleepy. Seth hated waking the man up, but he was certain the detective wouldn’t mind once he heard what Seth had to share.

“My name is Seth Whitman. We met yesterday morning at the shooting in south Arlington. You might have heard Jetta’s mother, Emily Ainsley, had been kidnapped from her rehab facility around the same time as the shooting.”

“A colleague mentioned that since the two women are related.”

The man’s voice sounded marginally more awake now. Seth cleared his throat, trying to find the words to succinctly related the circumstances. “My colleague at The Northern Virginia Herald , Brogan Gilmore, received an anonymous call a few minutes ago saying Emily Ainsley could be found at Tibbet’s Hill Cemetery in Sterling.”

“What?” Detective Oldfield’s voice sharpened. “Tell me again.”

Seth repeated the information. “We’re headed to the cemetery now. We’re coming from Falls Church and about to hop on the Dulles Toll Road. Should be there in about twenty minutes.”

“I’ll alert Fairfax County PD to send any patrol officers in the area to that location and meet you there.”

“Okay.” Seth remembered to add, “I haven’t called Ms. Ainsley yet—didn’t want to get her hopes up if this turns out to be a hoax.”

“I see.” Detective Oldfield didn’t comment on whether he’d call Jetta.

Seth let out a breath as Brogan accelerated on the highway. The GPS on the vehicle’s dash screen showed their ETA at seven minutes. “Thank you.”

“Wait for backup,” the detective said. “This could be a trap.”

Seth said they would be careful and disconnected. He relayed the conversation to Brogan. “I didn’t think about this being a way to lure Jetta to a lonely spot.” He most certainly did not like to think about what might have happened had she been the one to receive the tip and not Brogan.

“Which is why we’ll go in as slow and quiet as possible. Here’s the turn.” Brogan eased off the highway and onto a road lined on both sides with rectangle buildings about three stories tall. “Kind of ugly, aren’t they?”

Seth peered in the darkness to see a sign illuminated by two small spotlights: Visions Data Center. “Yeah, but since they are not near any residential or retail businesses, they didn’t have to make them pretty. I took some shots of a new center on the outskirts of Centreville that had been designed by a leading architect—very eye catching. These are functional but not attractive.”

“Keep your eyes peeled for the left turn coming up, as I don’t want to flip on my high beams unless I absolutely have to.”

Seth peered into the darkness for the road, then pointed to a narrow slit between two buildings. “There, it’s sandwiched between those two structures.”

“Got it.” Brogan eased the SUV into the tight, single lane gravel road with buildings on either side. They bumped along for a few hundred yards before the buildings ended. Ahead, the headlights picked up a wide expanse of open space. Soon, they could see a low, wrought iron fence with a stone monument marking the cemetery’s entrance.

Seth waited until Brogan had neatly turned the car around until it faced the alleyway, then both men exited and conferred near the monument, which appeared to have a brief history of the cemetery on a plaque attached to the stone. “Should we split up or stick together?”

“Together,” Brogan said. “It will be less confusing when the police arrive, I think.”

Using their phones’ flashlight app, the two entered the small cemetery and headed to the left. The light played over the simple graves with some names visible and others lost to age and weather. The scent of recently mowed grass tickled Seth’s nose. Mature trees ringed the cemetery on three sides, providing a buffer between the data centers and the loved ones buried here.

They reached the back of the cemetery without spotting Emily. Seth had been so sure the caller was telling the truth. “Let’s check the right side,” Brogan said.

Seth moved in that direction, using his light to illuminate the way. Even with the flashlight, he tripped over something but managed to stay on his feet. He swept his light back over the area and spotted a broken piece concrete. Still nothing. He raised the phone toward the copse of trees. The light caught something shiny, and he quickened his pace until he spotted the glow of a cast. “Brogan! She’s over here.”

Seth dropped to his knees beside the woman lying on her side, her lounge pants torn and dirty. She had a black hood over her head, and he carefully removed it. Her hair, usually so smooth and in place, lay in tangled knots around her shoulders. “Mrs. Ainsley? Emily?” He touched her cheek. Warm. Thank God, she was alive.

Behind him, Brogan requested an ambulance while Seth examined Emily as much as he could without moving her. He had no idea the extent of her injuries.

She stirred, then opened her eyes. “Seth?”

“I’m here. Help is on the way.”

“Oh, Seth.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Help me sit up.”

“I don’t want to hurt you more.” He tried to dissuade her but the determined set of her jaw, so like Jetta’s, told him to save his breath and help her. As gently as he could, he raised her to a seated position, her back against a tree.

Scratches marred her cheeks, and the palm of her hands had lacerations, as did her left knee. She began to shiver. Shock.

“Do you have a blanket in your SUV?” Seth directed his question to Brogan, who took off at a jog while still on the phone. He returned his attention to Emily. “It will be all right. You’re safe now.”

“Jetta?”

“She’s safe too.” He wouldn’t be the one to tell Emily about the shooting. All that could wait. “I didn’t call her yet. Wanted to make sure you were here and okay.”

“Good.” Emily’s eyes slid closed as Brogan returned with a blanket.

“It’s one Melender and I use for picnics.” He handed it to Seth, who tucked it around Emily.

“I’ll call Jetta. She’ll be mad she’s not here but glad her mom’s been found.” Seth pulled up Jetta’s contact info as flashing lights and a siren heralded the arrival of the emergency personnel. He prayed for the right words to say to calm her as quickly as possible. When she picked up, he tried to inject confidence into his tone. “Jetta, it’s Seth.”

“What’s wrong? Is it Mom?” Tension filled Jetta’s voice.

“Your mom’s fine, Jetta.” Seth looked at Emily, who had opened her eyes at the sound of her daughter’s name. “We found her, and she’s going to be okay.”

He held the phone to Emily’s ear and mouth. “Seth is telling the truth. I’m a little more banged up, but I’m alive and free.” She listened for a moment longer, then repeated assurances she was okay before nodding to Seth to remove the phone.

“She really will be okay.” As he spoke to Jetta, a police cruiser, an SUV, and an ambulance crowded the small cemetery parking lot. “The calvary has arrived. As soon as I know what hospital they’re taking your mom to, I will text you. Promise.”

“Thank you, Seth. I don’t know how you found her, but thank you.” She alternated between crying and hiccuping. “I’m so happy, I’m crying. Again.”

“I will let you know as soon as I know more, but I need to go now.” Seth wanted to stay on the phone with Jetta, but he had questions to answer and Mom to assist. His heart warmed at her thanks, and he prayed perhaps God would use this to strengthen Jetta’s faith and heal her heart.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Jetta slid behind the wheel, praying the same prayer over and over again. Lord, please keep me safe. Let Mom be okay. Thank you for her return to us.

On the way to Stone Springs Hospital, where Seth had texted the ambulance was taking Mom, the repetition calmed her. But she couldn’t help glancing in her rearview and side mirrors because the sense of someone following her wouldn’t leave. In the darkness, no one pair of headlights stood out in the light traffic, so she put her paranoia down to a residual response to her mother’s kidnapping.

The Emergency Department parking lot had plenty of spaces, so she picked one closest to the entrance and hopped out. The front of her stomach tightened, then relaxed. Panic flared for an instant before she remembered having a few contractions before and asking her OB-GYN about it. Braxton Hicks contractions or false labor. Nothing to worry about. The lights inside the ER had been muted for the overnight hours, and a quick sweep of the waiting area didn’t show Seth in any of the chairs or couches.

The check-in desk had two empty seats. Jetta turned around to scan the area again, which held a pair of elderly women huddled together and a younger man with a beard holding a stuffed bear. No Seth or employees.

The automatic doors leading back to what Jetta assumed would be the patient cubicles swished open, and a man in maroon scrubs came out and headed to the desk. “So sorry you had to wait.” He slid into one of the empty chairs. “How can I help you?”

“I’m Emily Ainsley’s daughter, Jetta. I was told my mom was being brought here by ambulance.”

He asked her to spell the last name as he entered it into the computer. “Ah, yes. She requested Seth Whitman to accompany her, but left word to bring you back as soon as you arrived. I’ll need to see your ID, then we can go back.”

She fished out her wallet and showed her driver’s license.

The employee eyed the license. “Thank you, Ms. Ainsley. If you’ll follow me?”

She did so, having to trot to keep up with his longer legs. Once through the automatic doors, she blinked under the brighter lights. Medical personnel bustled about, whisking open curtains to cubicles on either side of the rectangle-sized area. The desk clerk stopped midway down the right side. “Knock, knock.”

Without waiting for a reply, he peeled back the curtain. “I have your daughter, Mrs. Ainsley.”

Jetta stepped forward, her gaze fastened on the bed where her mother lay. “Mom!”

Emily held out her arms, and Jetta needed no further invitation. She enfolded her mother in a loose hug, not wanting to hurt her by squeezing too tight. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Jetta stepped back and glanced across where Seth stood on the other side of the bed. “Thank you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck as it turned pink. “Thank the anonymous caller who tipped Brogan off about where Emily could be found.”

Seth hadn’t told her the details when he’d called, but she could get them later. Right now, she only wanted to hold her mother’s hand and be reassured she was truly okay.

“Here, you sit down.” Seth brought the chair around to the right side of the bed so Jetta could sit.

She touched his arm, unable to get out the words of gratitude filling her heart because of the lump in her throat. He nodded, then smiled at her mother. “I’ll be in the waiting room if you need anything.”

After he left, Jetta stroked her mother’s hand. “I was so worried when you were gone. I couldn’t help thinking this was all my fault. If we hadn’t started poking around after getting that envelope, none of this would have happened.”

“No, my sweet girl.” Emily squeezed her hand. “If anyone is at fault, it’s me. I decided to pursue the truth and opened this particular can of worms.”

Jetta sighed. “We’re nowhere near finding out the truth about Dad or who the embezzler is.” Frustration threatened to release more tears, but she’d had enough with the waterworks. She wouldn’t cry any more, or at least not today.

“We can pray.”

The assurance behind those simple words coupled with the sweet peace in Mom’s eyes made Jetta smile. “We can certainly do that. I’ve missed praying with you.”

“I have too. I might have wandered a bit away from God after your father’s death, but He’s brought me back. I’m only sorry it took such terrible circumstances to remind me of who I had been ignoring.”

“Shall I start?”

Emily nodded, and Jetta closed her eyes. “Dear Jesus, thank you for restoring Mom both to your fold and to us. Help her recover from her ordeal, and please, if it is your will, let us find out who was behind the embezzlement. You know how much Dad loved you and served you. We would so much like to restore his good name.”

“And keep my darling daughter safe from harm,” Emily added her prayer. “Give her wisdom as she contemplates her future and protect the baby she’s carrying. Help her to see your hand in her life despite the difficult circumstances and not be afraid of embracing a future full of hope and love. Amen.”

Jetta echoed her mother’s amen, deciding not to comment on the last line of the prayer. She suspected Emily had been matchmaking with Seth, and while she wasn’t as opposed to that idea as she’d initially been, she still couldn’t see a future that included a man.

“I see your daughter has arrived.” A woman wearing Scooby Doo scrubs and a stethoscope around her neck stood by the partially open curtain. “I’m Patricia, one of the ER nurses. The EMTs did a cursory examination of your mother, but we need to do a more thorough one, plus x-ray her leg to ensure nothing shifted in all her travels. The doctor will be by in a few minutes.”

Her mom released Jetta’s hand as the nurse left. “Why don’t you wait with Seth while they take care of all this.”

“You sure? I can stay.” Jetta wanted to stay by her mother’s side, but Mom had that determined look in her eyes that told her arguing would be futile.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Mom pointed a finger at Jetta. “You need to tell that young man your feelings.”

“What?” Jetta’s cheeks heated at her mother’s words. “He’s just a friend.”

“Jetta Lynn Ainsley.”

At her mother’s use of her full name, Jetta froze.

“I didn’t raise you to be so foolish as to throw away a chance at love because you’re scared.”

“I—”

“I’m not finished.” Mom shifted on the bed as the same nurse returned with an older man wearing dark blue scrubs with bright orange dancing crabs.

They certainly made interesting scrubs these days. Jetta recognized her lame attempt to distract herself from her mother’s words.

“But I see I’ll have to finish this conversation later.”

Relief poured over Jetta like warm caramel sauce over ice cream. She leaned down and kissed her mother’s cheek, then told the nurse she’d be in the waiting room. As she left, Jetta couldn’t ignore her mother’s assertion she had feelings for Seth. She wasn’t ready to take a closer look at her heart, but she did acknowledge her mother had hit the bullseye on one thing. She was terrified of falling in love with the wrong guy and repeating the same mistakes she made with Kyle. Her confidence in herself to make a good decision when it came to love hovered around zero. With a baby on the way, her heart wouldn’t be the only thing on the line.