Page 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

S eth stepped outside the emergency department, the cool night air not enough of a deterrent to stay inside. He wished he could go for a run or hit the gym for some reps on the weight machines to burn off his nervous energy. Adrenaline still coursed through his body, buoyed by finding Emily’s mother alive and mostly unharmed. The shine in Jetta’s blue eyes had his heart racing for an entirely different reason. He told himself not to hope this meant she would be more open to pursuing a relationship with him, but his foolish heart leaped to that conclusion on its own.

He turned the corner, following the sidewalk around to the left. His phone buzzed, and after checking caller ID, he answered it. “Hey, Brogan.”

“How is Mrs. Ainsley?”

Background noise indicated Brogan was likely still at the cemetery with law enforcement. “Not sure, as a doctor hadn’t seen her when Jetta arrived. She’s with Emily now, and I’m outside walking. Any updates?”

“Not much, but I did hear that one of the data centers recently installed security cameras, and it might have captured the vehicle used to transport Mrs. Ainsley to the cemetery.”

“Maybe there will be something useful on the footage that will lead to whoever kidnapped Emily.” Seth cut through one of the hospital parking decks. “Anything else recovered from the scene that might help ID the culprit?”

“Not that the cops are sharing, but the forensics team canvassed the area. I’m leaving in a few as things are winding down, and I need to get some shuteye before our ten o’clock interview this morning.”

“Okay, thanks for the update.” Seth exited the garage and turned right to take the path back to the ER. He’d nearly forgotten they had an interview—he checked the time on his phone—in less than six hours. Maybe he could grab a nap while waiting to hear how Emily was doing.

When he entered the waiting room, he spotted Jetta coming through the automatic doors. “Jetta? Everyone okay with your mom?”

Her hand braced the small of her back and her shoulders slumped. “Yes. The doctor came to examine her. Since the cubicle is so small, Mom sent me out and told me to put my feet up while they did. They’ll also x-ray her leg afterwards, so it will be a while before I can rejoin her.”

“Can I get you something to drink or eat?” Seth bit back more questions as she eased into a chair.

“I didn’t think I could sleep before but now I can hardly keep my eyes open.” She stifled a yawn behind her hand.

“Be right back.” Seth went to the front desk to talk to the employee, whose name tag he now noticed read “Farhan.” “Excuse me.”

Farhan looked up from his computer screen. “How can I help you?”

“My friend’s exhausted. Her mom’s back with the doctor, and it will be a while before she’s finished. Is there anywhere she can rest while she waits?”

“That’s the kidnapping victim’s daughter, right?”

Seth affirmed it was, figuring someone couldn’t keep that juicy bit of news to themselves when Emily was brought in.

“She must be so relieved her mom was found and will be okay.” Farhan clicked some keys. “Since we’re not too busy, I can put her in one of the overflow triage areas. It won’t be secluded, but there’s a bed in there she can use.”

“Thank you. I’ll go get her.” Seth hustled back to find Jetta had moved to one of the couches and had fallen asleep on her side. He decided not to wake her and returned to the desk. “She’s asleep on one of the couches. Could I have a blanket instead of making her move?”

“Sure, that’s an easy one. Be right back.” Farhan scooted his chair back and left while Seth returned to keep an eye on Jetta. He wasn’t able to completely shake the sense she was still in danger despite her mother’s safe return. They weren’t even close to identifying who had been stealing money from Topher Robotics unless the answer was right in front of them and they couldn’t see it.

Farhan returned holding a white cotton blanket. “Here you go.”

Seth thanked him, then draped it over Jetta, who barely stirred. He sat in the chair next to the couch and contemplated all they knew. He opened the notes app on his phone and began jotting down his thoughts and questions.

Jay Ainsley had been troubled by something at work in the months leading up to his death. Would Emily have his work calendar?

Someone at Topher Robotics made sure a paper trail for a fraction of the stolen money pointed to Jay, leading to his arrest, which apparently led to his heart attack. Was there any question it was caused by something other than the enormous stress he’d been under? Why did Topher Robotics not sue Emily to recover the rest of the money they said Jay stole? Or launch an investigation into where the other money was?

As far as Seth knew, the Ainsleys didn’t live an extravagant lifestyle. The Cayman Islands bank account yielded only a few million dollars, well below the number reportedly taken over many years. He composed an email to Mr. Warner to ask if he could find out when the embezzlement started and how long it continued.

Someone with insider knowledge sent Jay an envelope to help exonerate him but it wasn’t delivered until fifteen years later. Who sent the envelope?

The papers hadn’t been very useful because the financial institutions hadn’t been named, only bank account numbers. But they did show dates and amounts, so perhaps with other info, a forensic accountant could piece together exactly what happened. Seth sent his FinCEN contact an email asking for recommendations for a freelance forensic accountant.

Dolores Green had been accused of altering invoices from SafeSense to Topher Robotics, but she denied any culpability. Then Fiona Everly left SafeSense to work for Topher. Coincidence?

Someone followed us to Dolores’s house, then took potshots at us. Jetta received an anonymous phone call warning her to stop or the next time wouldn’t be only fired shots.

Seth rubbed the back of his neck as the list grew longer. Nothing seemed to make any sense, especially the kidnapping of Emily. It was as if there were more than one entity behind everything, and only by separating the incidents and information would they be able to get a clearer picture. He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair.

Was it that simple? Were they trying to put together a puzzle with too many pieces and so could never see the forest for the trees, as one of his foster dads used to say?

Possibly, but how to split up the list would need to wait. He yawned as the long day tackled him like two sumo wrestlers. He checked on Jetta, who slept on, then tried to find a comfortable position in the chair. As sleep beckoned him, he prayed once more for Jetta and Emily, and for wisdom in figuring this out before someone made good on their threat to seriously harm Jetta.

* * *

Ryan pounded the weight bag with his right hook, then a left jab. He swung his leg up in a round kick to connect with the hanging punching bag. The bag swayed from his attack as he danced the boxer’s moves around it, delivering blow after blow with his gloved hands interspersed with kicks from his bare feet. The five a.m. workout invigorated him, firing his brain cells into overdrive.

He slammed the bag with his left foot, visualizing the board chair’s smug face. An uppercut with his right sent the bag swinging as he smashed his father’s interfering mouth. Ryan continued well beyond his usual workout time until his muscles quivered and sweat drenched his body. He ripped off his gloves and grabbed his water bottle, downing the contents in a few long swallows.

The door to his downstairs gym opened, and his wife stepped inside wearing a silk bathrobe over her matching pajamas. Pink polish glistened on her toes, a girlish touch that amused him in his sixty-two-year-old wife.

“Come to watch me attack this bag?” He blotted his face with a towel, then he clocked her serious expression—and his cell in her hand. “What is it?”

She blinked back tears, and his heart clogged his throat. “It’s your father.”

“What happened?”

“He’s alive. Your mother called. The housekeeper found him in his office slumped over the desk when she brought him his morning coffee. He was unresponsive, and he’s been taken to the hospital. They’re running tests to see if it was a heart attack or stroke.”

Ryan nodded as Sage related more information while keeping a serious expression on his face. While he wouldn’t have wished his father harm, he couldn’t help but see how the timing of his father’s illness would play into his hands to keep the board on his side—and ready to quash any other hostile takeover bids.

“Ryan?”

He swiveled to see Sage staring at him, concern in her eyes. He offered a tight smile. “I’m okay—shocked, of course.”

His phone buzzed in Sage’s hand. She glanced at it. “Gene’s calling.”

Ryan did not want to talk to his brother, not yet. “Tell him I’m in the shower but to come to the office as soon as he can. And call Yasmine to tell her the same.” He didn’t wait for Sage to agree to his commands but left knowing she would. She was a most excellent wife, never complaining of his long hours at the office. Maybe soon, he would be able to enjoy the fruits of all his labors with her. The idea of a months-long tour in an RV of the Southwest US buoyed him through his shower and dressing.

Forty-five minutes after learning of his father’s health crisis, Ryan convened a closed-door meeting with his siblings.

“What happened to Dad?” Gene asked as he sipped coffee he’d brought with him.

“I spoke with Mom, and she said the initial tests indicated he had a heart attack.” Ryan leaned against his desk, opting to stand while his brother and sister sat in the pair of visitor club chairs.

“Just like Jay Ainsley.” Yasmine sounded shaken.

“Who?” Gene frowned.

“The head of accounting Dad accused of embezzling millions of dollars,” his sister snapped back. “Surely you remember? The media hounded us for months.”

Ryan bit back a groan as her words reminded him he had an interview with Brogan Gilmore at ten this morning. He would have to cancel, of course, in light of his father’s hospitalization. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not jumping to conclusions,” Yasmine huffed. “I’m pointing out it’s weird when Dad had a checkup last month and was pronounced in excellent physical health that he would suddenly have a heart attack.”

“He’s eight-seven, for goodness sake,” Gene responded. “Didn’t that Ainsley guy have some sort of hidden heart condition?”

Ryan didn’t want to listen to their squabbles about inconsequential things. “That’s enough. Our father is fighting for his life, and we have to decide what that means for the future of the company.”

Yasmine narrowed her eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything, dear brother. We continue on as before.”

“That’s not exactly true.” Ryan waited until both his siblings looked him straight in the eyes. “I have Dad’s power of attorney, so that means I control his shares of the company until he’s back on his feet.”

“What?” Gene shot to his feet. “That would give you…”

“Fifty-two percent of the shares and thus control of the company.” Ryan crossed his arms and tried not to smile too broadly as Gene gaped at him. He’d suspected Yasmine and Gene of plotting with shareholders to sell the company to Maxwell Technology, but his father’s heart attack had spiked their plans.

“Are you sure about that?” Yasmine stayed seated, her expression calm.

“I can show you the document if you’d like.”

“I’d check what your power of attorney covers.” Yasmine reached into her briefcase beside her chair. She brought out a folder, which she handed to Ryan. “Dad also gave me power of attorney—specifically to control his shares of the company.”

Ryan wouldn’t respond until he’d seen the document. If that were true, that meant his sister would block his attempt to salvage the company. One glance at the page confirmed his sister’s words. He closed his eyes, seeing all his hard work to save the company draining away like an old battery.

“Yes!” Gene pumped his fist into the air. “Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“It appears no one did apart from Yasmine.” Ryan didn’t have time for his brother’s joy or his sister’s smugness. “You do realize if Maxwell Technology succeeds, they will break Topher Robotics into pieces. People will lose their jobs.”

“But we’ll be rich.” Gene rubbed his hands together. “This is the best news I’ve had all day.”

“You’re rejoicing? If Dad survives, he’ll have another heart attack over what the two of you have done to the company he founded.” Ryan couldn’t believe his siblings would be so unfeeling.

“You thought you were the favored child, but I guess you found out the hard way Dad didn’t trust your business judgment.” Yasmine got to her feet. “The only thing Dad loved was this company. Not me and certainly not either of you. If I happen to destroy his life’s work, so be it. At least I’ll have enough money to leave this area and never look back.”

“Get out, both of you. You make me sick.” Ryan turned away, unable to look at his brother and sister. His heart ached for his father, who had made his life as CEO miserable, but Yasmine had been right—Peter Topher cared more for his namesake company than for his three children. Maybe he shouldn’t want to preserve his father’s legacy, but Ryan had invested too much of his own life in Topher Robotics to back down now. If a fight was what they wanted, he would be more than happy to oblige. In fact, he wouldn’t cancel the interview with the journalist but use it to start his own campaign to win the shareholders to his vision for Topher Robotics.