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Chapter Twenty-Six

“M rs. Ainsley, your vitals are strong, so how about we spring you from the hospital today?” The attending physician winked at her as he scribbled notes on her chart.

“That sounds great.” Emily couldn’t wait to leave the hospital, although returning to the rehab center wasn’t appealing. “When will that happen? I’ll need to give my daughter a time to come get me.”

He glanced at the wall clock. “How about noon? I’ll get the discharge paperwork started now.”

“Wonderful.” She grabbed her phone the minute he left her room and texted Seth.

Would you mind picking me up from the hospital?

His immediate reply brought a smile to her lips.

Of course. What time?

Noon. Thanks!

He sent a thumbs up emoji in reply. Emily tapped her phone against the bed, then dialed Jetta.

“Hey, Mom. How are you this morning?”

“I’m fine. They’re discharging me. Would you come get me around noon? And bring a Jersey Mike’s sub, the one with turkey and provolone. I’m tired of hospital food.”

“You must be feeling better if you want a sub. What time should I come?”

“Noon would work. I’ll be waiting in the lobby.” Emily should have felt bad about omitting to tell Jetta she’d also asked Seth to come, but how could she not when Jetta was determined to push Seth away. Anyone could see how much the young man cared for her daughter—and how much Jetta cared for Seth. Her youngest daughter had it in her head that she needed to distance herself from Seth because of the baby, but Seth wouldn’t care. Emily suspected he already loved the little one as much as he did Jetta. Emily viewed Jetta’s reluctance to let her feelings for Seth grow as more fear-based than fact-based, and she aimed to do what she could to help bring them together.

She didn’t have time to contemplate the wisdom of her decision, as medical personal came in and out of her room with various papers and instructions ahead of her discharge.

“Ready to be sprung from this joint?” Seth grinned as he entered her room.

“More than ready.” Emily patted the folder beside her. “I have all my discharge papers, so I am just waiting for a wheelchair.”

He eyed her leg, still in its cast. “Did they say how much longer you’d have to wear that cast?”

She grimaced. “Maybe another week. The kidnappers dragging me about put strain on the bones. But enough about me. Do you have any updates on the investigation?”

“Nothing concrete, but Brogan and I did interview Ryan Topher this morning and take some pictures of him and his two siblings.” Seth shook his head. “Those were the most awkward family photos I’ve ever taken. None of them wanted to be near the other.”

“Jay always said the Tophers were a close-knit family.”

“They certainly didn’t seem all that close to me. The two younger ones appeared to resent Ryan’s decisions.” Seth paced to the window, then back. “Brogan asked mostly softball questions about Ryan and the company, then did the classic, ‘one more question’ as we were getting ready to leave.”

“About the embezzlement?”

“No, about why Yasmine and Gene were conspiring with Maxwell Technology on the hostile takeover of Topher Robotics.”

“Is that true?” Emily couldn’t believe any of the siblings would try to damage their father’s company in that way.

“All of them vehemently denied it, but while Ryan appeared shocked, the other two seemed more angry than surprised.”

“What did they say?” Curiosity tugged at Emily. While Peter Topher had still been chairman of the board when Jay worked there, Ryan, Gene, and Yasmine had been more involved in the day-to-day running of the company.

Seth pulled out his phone. “I had put away my camera, but Brogan had asked me to record his asking the question for his story. All three had given permission for recording the conversations earlier, but Brogan wanted to focus on their facial expressions rather than making sure he was recording.” He tapped the screen, then held out the phone toward Emily.

A male voice, presumably Brogan’s, asked the question. A moment of silence, then two males and a female talked over one another in a jumble of denials. Then one of the brothers said, “How dare you accuse me of such an action!”

Emily shot out her hand. “Stop it.”

Seth complied.

“Play that last bit again.”

He brought the phone closer to Emily and played the recording again, this time a little louder. Her pulse accelerated, and a wave of dizziness swept over her as she listened to the voice of her questioner. She raised a trembling hand to her temple. “That’s the voice of the man who asked me questions about Vie. He’s the one who kidnapped me.”

“You’re sure?” Seth replayed the recording a third time.

Emily nodded. “He tried to disguise his voice, but that’s the one. Which brother was it?”

“Gene.”

“The neglected middle child.” She gave a half smile, remembering hearing her own middle children complaining in mostly a teasing way about their lot in life to be overlooked and forgotten.

“I’ll text the detective to let him know.” Seth sent the message while Emily digested the fact that Gene Topher had kidnapped her.

The why eluded her, unless he thought she knew more about the new technology under development than he had access to, which made no sense, given he worked for Topher and she hadn’t set foot on the company campus in years.

“Mrs. Ainsley?” A lanky Hispanic man pushed an empty wheelchair into the room. “I’m here to give you a ride in my chariot to the lobby.”

“Wonderful.” Emily allowed the hospital orderly to assist her into the chair while more questions pummeled her mind. Was Gene also the one who embezzled millions and blamed Jay? Possibly. Maybe the police would look into it more closely with this new evidence of his illicit activities.

Seth trailed behind them as the orderly took her to the lobby. Emily thanked the man once he parked her beside a couch.

“Will you be okay here while I get my car?”

Seth’s concern showed Emily once again what a caring individual he was. If only Jetta would see that it was genuine and not some act designed to fool women. But his comment reminded her she needed to come clean about something else too. “Actually, my daughter is coming to give me a ride.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Does she know you asked me to come as well?”

Emily shrugged. “I might have not said anything about inviting you.”

“Mrs. Ainsley—”

“I’ve told you to call me Emily.”

“Emily.” Seth dragged her name out to more than three syllables. “Jetta has made it clear she’s only interested in friendship with me.”

“She’s making a mistake.” Emily leaned forward, trying to get Seth onboard.

“It’s her decision—not yours—and I will respect her decision. This”—he gestured to himself and her—“isn’t going to help things.”

From behind Seth, Emily spotted her daughter entering the lobby.

“Mom?” Jetta looked from Emily to Seth and back again. “What’s going on?”

Emily sighed. “Don’t get mad at Seth. I asked him to give me a ride too.”

Her daughter narrowed her eyes. “Why would you do that?”

Emily paused, then decided she might as well be honest. “Because I think you’re making a big mistake throwing out a chance for a relationship with him because you’re afraid.”

Jetta’s mouth dropped as she stared at her mother. Then she snapped it closed. “Well, we both can’t give you a ride, so who’s it going to be?”

Emily considered. “I’ll go with you,” she told her daughter. “But before you take me back to the rehab facility, we need to talk.” She knew that mulish set of her daughter’s mouth and jaw and hastened to reassure Jetta. “Not about Seth and you, but because I know who organized my kidnapping.”

“You do?” Jetta swiveled to glance at Seth, then back to her mother. “Who?”

“Gene Topher.”

* * *

Jetta jiggled her leg as they waited for Detective Harwell to join them in the windowless interview room. Her mother rested serenely beside her at the table, which was bolted to the floor. Two empty chairs sat across from them while Seth leaned against the wall to her left, his bulk filling the small space and sending her nerves into overdrive. Every time he shifted, she noticed. To be honest, every time he breathed, her heartbeat increased with anticipation he would speak to her.

She should feel safer with her decision to friend-zone him, but she didn’t. She missed his light touch on the small of her back when he guided her through a restaurant or store. She enjoyed feeling like a princess every time he hurried to open her car door or pull out her chair. The baby somersaulted, reminding her of the joy on his face when he’d felt the baby move, his hand warm underneath hers on her stomach. Their one, amazing kiss…

“Ms. Ainsley?”

Jetta blinked at Detective Harwell’s question. “Sorry, lost in thought.” She avoided meeting her mother’s eyes but caught the slight smirk on her face. Great, Mom probably guessed she’d been thinking of Seth and would use it in her campaign to get them together. Not going to work. She had her little one to think of and couldn’t afford to take any chances by picking the wrong man. Again.

“Mr. Whitman, would you please play the recording?”

Seth leaned in between Jetta and her mother and set his phone on the table in front of the detective, then hit the play button. The conversation Jetta had already heard filled the room as she breathed in the subtle scent of citrus and soap. Her shoulders relaxed, and even the baby seemed to settle his—or her—antics at the smell of Seth. She seriously needed to get a grip and concentrate on the interview with her mother.

She tuned back into the conversation to hear the detective ask her mother if she was sure the person who interrogated her was Gene Topher.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Emily shot Harwell a look Jetta long recalled from her own childhood. Mom was getting exasperated with the repeated questions.

“You said you were in pain. Could that have clouded your—”

“Hearing? No.” Her mother hugged her body. “I’m not some elderly woman who can’t remember her name. I have an excellent memory, and you can ask me six ways to Sunday if I’m sure the man who came into the room where I was being held captive was Gene Topher, and the answer will stay the same. Yes.”

Behind her, Jetta could have sworn she heard a muffled snort from Seth, but she didn’t turn around to confirm. Instead, she focused on the implications of what her mother said. She leaned toward the detective. “Have you had a chance to look into my father’s case?”

“I reviewed the notes from the arresting officers as well as the internal investigation into his heart attack while in custody, although his death occurred in your home,” Harwell said. “I also chatted with one of my colleagues in the white-collar crimes unit about the case. After Mr. Ainsley died, Topher Robotics declined to assist us with our investigation, and that essentially closed the case.”

Jetta frowned. “They didn’t want to find out where the other millions of dollars went? Because I thought they only found a couple of million in one offshore account in Dad’s name.”

“My colleague, who joined the department only a few years ago, said the case notes indicated hostility on the part of Topher Robotics when they requested access to the company’s financial records to trace the missing money. Without an active suspect and Topher Robotics insisting we stop looking into it, there was nothing else we could do.”

“But Gene didn’t ask me about the missing money,” her mother said. “He asked me what I knew about something called Vie.”

“Suggesting what, exactly?” Jetta massaged her forehead to stave off the beginnings of a headache.

“There are rumors the company is developing new wearable AI technology.” Seth moved to Jetta’s left as if to join the interview. “It’s supposed to be lightyears ahead of the competition.”

“So worth millions.” Emily summed up what had coalesced in Jetta’s mind. “Which Topher needs because someone has continued to siphon off money for years.”

“Mom, we don’t know that for sure.” Jetta had dismissed Mom’s earlier assertion that the original embezzler hadn’t stopped stealing money.

“They got away with it once and blamed my husband. Of course they would have stopped when things were hot, as they say, but when the police investigation fizzled, then of course, they would start up again. They feel entitled to that money, they feel they’ve earned that money, and they might be more clever about it, but mark my words. They are still taking what’s not theirs.”