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Chapter Twenty-Eight

J etta stepped back into her mother’s room to say goodbye. She’d given her mother privacy to get checked over by the resident doctor after her brief hospital stay. The entire staff, from the front desk to the nursing staff to the cleaners to the security officers, had gone above and beyond to make Mom feel welcome. As they should, since Mom had been snatched right from under their noses.

She rubbed the small of her back as another spasm of Braxton Hicks contractions shuddered through her body. She needed to sit with her feet up, but that would have to wait until she’d walked Bingley and checked her email for a contract from Become Clutter Free, a company specializing in downsizing family homes, to help with Mom’s house. At least that was one decision she could make without tying herself into knots.

“Jetta, you look about done in.” Her mother smiled at the aide who’d helped her into bed. “I know I am.”

Jetta sank into the chair as the aide left. “I’m always tired.”

“I remember feeling that way too.” Mom studied her, the compassion in her eyes soothing Jetta’s fraying nerves. “I also recall how out of sorts I could be. Your poor father never knew what might set me off. Some days, he could do nothing right in my eyes.”

“Hmm.” No way was Jetta answering that. Her mother didn’t need any more ammunition in her quest to bring her and Seth together.

“I forgot to ask Seth at the hospital, so maybe you know the answer.”

Jetta braced for yet another well-meaning push toward matrimony from her mother.

“Are you going to the shareholders emergency meeting tonight?”

The question made no sense to Jetta. “Shareholders meeting?”

“At Topher Robotics. Seven p.m.”

“Why would I attend that?” She didn’t want to point out the obvious—that only shareholders could attend, of which she wasn’t one.

“Because you’re a shareholder.” Mom’s serene expression was in stark contrast to Jetta’s open-mouthed reaction.

She snapped her jaw shut, and closed her eyes, counting to ten to avoid yelling as confusion muddied the waters of her brain. Maybe she was experiencing some alternative reality in which she owned stock in Topher Robotics, something her mother had never mentioned before. “What are you talking about?”

Her words came out snappier than she’d intended, but Jetta was too cross to care at the moment.

“I didn’t realize this until recently myself, but your father owned shares of Topher Robotics as part of his compensation package. A few months before he died, he transferred ownership of those shares to you.”

“I was ten years old. How is that even legal?”

“It is if you have a custodial account, which you did with me as the custodian until you turned eighteen.” Her mother sighed. “I think Dad knew he was going to be accused of embezzlement, and he wanted to protect us if they came after him for repayment. Moving the stock out of his name to yours did that.”

Jetta studied Mom. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier? I’ve been over the age of eighteen for seven years now.”

“I only found out when I was cleaning out some papers in the office before my accident. For too long, I couldn’t bring myself to go through Dad’s things. It took me years to give away his clothing.”

That made sense. Her mother had been both sad and mad for so long after Dad died. Jetta hadn’t understood the anger, but now that she knew the full picture, she did. “But surely you got notices about shareholder meetings, etc.”

“I didn’t because your father had opened a PO box and used that as the address for the notices. I found that too, but of course, since he’d only paid for a year, that had closed, and the notices were likely returned. He’d used his work address as the alternate one for the PO box, according to the paperwork I found.”

Another question occurred to Jetta. “How do you know I still own the stock, since it’s been so long and the notices were returned?”

“I called the shareholder number and confirmed it. I also updated the address, but it’s still addressed to me because we both have to be present to remove me as the custodian on the account.” Mom pushed herself up in the raised bed to a more seated position. “I think you should attend. Seth can’t because he’s not a shareholder, but I think he should drive you and wait outside in case you need assistance.”

Jetta narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t another of your ploys to throw us together romantically, is it?”

“No, dear. This is a suggestion to get insider information and perhaps more answers to what happened to your father.” Her mother patted her hand as if placating a child.

She resisted the urge to squirm and ignored the voice whispering that her mother had guessed Jetta wasn’t as opposed to that idea as she let on. She could not view Seth in that way because he was too honorable a man to be trapped with a woman with her baggage and a child not his own.

“Seth is a big, strong man capable of keeping you safe.”

Her mother’s words reminded Jetta how secure being in Seth’s arms had made her feel, how she loved his protectiveness towards her and the baby. Besides, Jetta shouldn’t beard the lion’s den solo. Time to admit her mother had a point. “Okay, I’ll text him.”

“Good. After everything that’s happened, I don’t want to worry about you.”

Her mother did have a few new worry lines around her mouth and forehead, so perhaps that wasn’t far from the truth. Jetta sent a text to Seth outlining Mom’s idea, then stood. “I need to rest if I’m to stay awake during the meeting.”

“You’ll update me as soon as you can?”

“Of course.” She kissed Mom’s cheek, then left. Her heart skipped a beat as she made plans via text to meet up with Seth ahead of the meeting. Even her baby appeared to somersault with glee at the thought of spending more time with their handsome neighbor. No matter how sternly Jetta talked to herself on the drive home, she couldn’t shake the fissure of anticipation at seeing Seth again.

* * *

Mae Stanhope adjusted her skirt and crossed her ankles as she waited for Agent Leslie Updike to join her in the small room. The vase of fresh flowers, light blue walls, and comfortable chairs around a round table wasn’t at all what she expected. No stark interrogation room with a bright light and bolted down furniture. She could have been in someone’s study.

The door opened, and a woman wearing slacks, a button-down pale-blue shirt, and a jaunty silk scarf as a headband entered, carrying an armful of folders. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Agent Leslie Updike with FinCEN.”

Mae shook the woman’s outstretched hand.

“May I get you anything? Water? Coffee?” The agent smiled as she set her folders down.

“No, thank you.” Mae’s nervousness returned with the agent’s entrance. She told herself not to worry, there was nothing to find. She’d been so very careful, and when that nice man, Jay Ainsley, dropped dead of a heart attack, the case had died with him.

“If you change your mind, let me know.” Agent Updike placed the top folder in front of her, then clasped her hands on top of it. “I appreciate your coming here late on a Friday afternoon to help with our inquiries.”

That gave Mae the opening she’d been waiting for. “I have no idea exactly how I can help you and with what inquiries. You were very cryptic on the phone.”

“I apologize for that. I’m sure you understand the nature of our investigations must be kept close to the vest, as they say.” Agent Updike opened the folder. “But I’m sure you can clear up a few points.”

Mae wrinkled her brow. “Do I need a lawyer?”

“That is your right, of course, but you’re not under arrest nor have I read you your rights. Right now, it’s just a chat. But a lawyer will give this entire thing more gravity than it deserves.” She shrugged.

Mae bit her lip. The woman seemed friendly and open, but she hadn’t gotten away with millions by being foolish. “Okay, I guess.”

“Great. If at any time during our conversation you want an attorney, say the word.”

Agent Updike confirmed with Mae her full name, address, date of birth, and years at Topher Robotics. “What position did you start at with the company?”

“As an admin for the accounting department.” Mae answered more questions about her rise through the ranks to her current job as executive assistant to the president. The questions put her at ease.

“So it would be fair to say you have acquired an excellent understanding of the inner workings of Topher Robotics.” The agent met Mae’s gaze.

“I would say that’s true.” Mae straightened in her chair at the implied praise.

“You worked for Jay Ainsley.”

“Not directly. I was one of three general admins in accounting.”

“What did you think of him?”

Mae considered her answer before replying. She didn’t like questions about Jay but couldn’t object without the agent wondering why. “As I said, I didn’t really know him.”

“But surely you must have formed an opinion of the man. He was head of a department where you worked”—she consulted a piece of paper in the folder—“for seven years.”

“He didn’t interact much with administrative assistants.”

Agent Updike raised an eyebrow. “No? By all accounts, including your fellow admin, Mr. Ainsley was very personable. One said, ‘He always inquired about my family, even remembering the names of my two dogs.’”

Mae shifted in her seat. Jay had been all of those things and more, but she didn’t want to talk about him. “Maybe we chatted a few times.”

“Did you like him?”

“Of course.” That was something Mae could answer truthfully.

“Then why did you blame him for your embezzlement?”

The question, even though Mae told herself to expect it, hit her between the eyes. Mae worked her mouth, but no sound came out. Heat poured through her body, flushing her cheeks.

“Here.” Agent Updike placed a cold water bottle in Mae’s hands.

Mae uncapped it and drank, grateful for the cool water. She could recover from this. “Sorry about that. Got a little flustered, as happens when you hit a certain age.” She herself was well past menopause and the accompanying hot flashes, but the agent couldn’t know that for sure.

“I can see why you would be, considering you redirected $250,000 of company funds for your own purposes.” She selected a page from the folder. “Once we knew where to look, we found out how you used that money to pay for your father’s nursing home care.”

Mae firmed her lips, not saying anything as the agent removed sheet after sheet detailing exactly how Mae had accomplished the embezzlement. Even though she couldn’t clearly see the documents, she recognized the logo she’d created for the fake invoices. No doubt they could prove what the agent said they could.

When Agent Updike stopped laying out the evidence, Mae drew in a deep breath to shore up her inner strength and prepared to lay the groundwork to using her bargaining chip. “You’ve done your homework.”

“We have. Why did you blame Jay Ainsley for your crimes?”

“Because someone told me to.” She thought she detected a slight widening of the agent’s eyes at her statement, but she wasn’t sure. Before she asked for a lawyer, she wanted to see how much they knew. “Someone found out what I was doing and demanded I take even more money from the company. At first, we didn’t attempt to frame anyone, but about six months before Mr. Ainsley died, this person told me to lay a trail blaming him for the embezzlement. All of it, including what I’d taken.” She paused. “I was paying it back, bit by bit. I planned on replacing all the money I’d taken.”

“I see that you had begun doing that but then you stopped because this person told you to continue the embezzlement?”

“That’s correct.” Mae took another sip of water and waited for the question that would reduce her culpability.

“What’s this person’s name?”

“For that, I’ll need a lawyer—and a deal.” Mae smiled, expecting the agent to gather her papers and leave the room to consult with someone who could authorize such a deal.

But she didn’t. Instead, Agent Updike clasped her hands together on top of the now-closed folder. “Before you do that, keep in mind that the charges against you will extend beyond embezzlement.”

Her words sent a fissure of unease down Mae’s spine. “But I only took money.”

The agent’s grim countenance alarmed her. “You might think your crime hurt no one outside of Topher Robotics, but someone has been targeting Jay Ainsley’s widow and daughter, even kidnapping Mrs. Ainsley. You’ve admitted to stealing money for this person. Who’s to say you didn’t assist in other ways too?”

“I had nothing to do with anything like that.” Mae couldn’t believe they would try to pin any other crime on her. She didn’t hurt anyone. She would never physically hurt anyone.

“That may be true, but until we know the name of the person you claim pushed you to steal millions, yours is the name we will pass along to the local authorities investigating those crimes.” Now the agent rose and carried the folders to the door.

“Wait!” Mae could see no way out. Deal or no deal, she would speak now or be lost to her husband forever. He would forgive her for the money, but never for anything else. “I want a lawyer, then I’ll tell you what I know.”