Page 9

Chapter Nine

A s darkness fell outside, Emily settled back against the pillows. More details from the days leading up to the arrest and Jay’s heart attack had been filling her mind. Fresh grief over her husband’s untimely death assailed her, coupled with a determination to take a clear-eyed view of those events.

When Jay finally told her what had been worrying him for weeks, she had been horrified. It explained his long hours and haggard appearance in the days before the arrest, which led credence to his fatal heart attack. As sleep continued to elude her, she relived the memories playing like a movie across her mind’s eye. Putting aside her own reactions and emotions as best she could, Emily concentrated on seeing everything as unambiguously as possible.

* * *

Fifteen years ago

Emily poured two cups of coffee, delighted Jay hadn’t rushed off to work this Saturday morning as he’d done the past couple of months. While she understood his concern about who had embezzled the money, she hoped he wouldn’t have to go into the office today. She stirred a dollop of cream into his, adding sugar and cream to her mug. Then she pulled the pan of homemade cinnamon rolls from the oven, the aroma of sugar and spices filling the kitchen.

“Smells good in here.” Jay crossed the room dressed in jeans and an old college sweatshirt, the lettering no longer readable. Instead of reaching for a roll, he wrapped his arms around her. Nuzzling her neck, he said, “I’m yours for the entire day. What shall we do?”

Delight zinged through her at the unexpected gift of time with her husband. “Jetta spent the night at a friend’s and they have plans for a zoo trip this morning. I was going to check out the ‘Murder is Her Hobby’ exhibit at the Renwick Gallery. Want to come along?”

“Intriguing title.” He took the plate with a roll she offered, then followed her to the small breakfast nook with its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the small, fenced backyard.

“It’s about Frances Glessner Lee and her Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death—kind of like dioramas of twenty real-life murders, suicides, and accidental deaths she made to help law enforcement learn forensic science techniques.” She sipped her coffee as Jay downed the roll in several big bites.

“Sounds a bit gruesome,” he winked at her, “but the perfect way to spend a Saturday.”

She grinned, happy that Jay seemed more like his old self. They chatted about inconsequential things as they finished their coffee and rolls. While she loaded the dishwasher, Jay went upstairs to retrieve his phone. A pounding on the front door made her jump. Who would be calling at eight on a Saturday? The doorbell pealed, accompanied by more pounding. She dried her hands and hustled to answer it.

The doorbell rang again as she yanked open the door. The annoyed response died on her lips at the sight of two uniformed police officers plus a woman dressed in a navy-blue pants suit. “I’m Detective Serenity Washington with the Falls Church Police Department.” She flashed her badge so quickly, Emily couldn’t read the words. “Is Jay Ainsley here?”

Confusion and a growing sense of unease snaked its way up Emily’s spine. “He is.”

“We need to speak with him immediately. Please step aside.” The detective took a step forward, and Emily automatically retreated until the woman and two officers were in the foyer.

“What’s going on?” Jay walked down the stairs, his eyes briefly meeting Emily’s before returning to the police.

“Jay Ainsley?” Detective Washington addressed her husband, who had reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes, I’m Jay Ainsley.”

“Jay Ainsley, I’m arresting you on charges of embezzlement and fraud.” The detective nodded to one of the officers, who produced handcuffs and reached for Jay. “You don’t have to…”

Emily tuned out the rest of the Miranda warning the detective recited as the officer cuffed Jay’s wrists in front of him. Her husband kept his gaze directed at Emily, the anguish in his eyes nearly undoing her composure. His face had lost most of its color, leaving him a pale imitation of his former robustness. Her heart squeezed as thoughts of how this could be happening pummeled her mind.

She touched his arm, earning a frown from one of the officers. “Ma’am, please stay away from the prisoner.”

Prisoner. Not her Jay. “Honey, I’ll call…” She couldn’t think of the attorney’s name, the one who had helped them revise their will after Jetta’s birth.

“Call Peter Long. Name’s in my phone contacts list.” Jay squared his shoulders as the officers flanked him. “He’ll know what to do. I love you. Tell the kids how much I love them.”

“I will.” She covered her mouth as if to stifle the scream threatening to erupt. She wouldn’t give into the rising panic. She would call Peter Long, who would straighten out this mess and get her husband back home where he belonged.

As they led him to the front door, Jay raised his cuffed hands to his chest, then his body sagged, nearly dragging the two officers to the ground. One of them yanked up on Jay’s arm, but her husband’s knees hit the entryway rug with a thud before he collapsed onto the ground.

This time, she let out the scream as she sank to the floor to cradle her still husband in her arms.

* * *

Emily swiped tears from her cheek as memories of the officers working to restart her husband’s heart assailed her. She’d wanted to tell them it was too late—Jay was with his Savior, leaving her to soldier on through the accusations that had tainted their family ever since. But maybe this time, she would find the answers as to who had set up her husband to take the fall for the fraud and embezzlement. For never once over these past years had she doubted he was innocent of all charges.

Not for the first time, she wished she’d pushed for a second autopsy on her husband, one that would run a fuller tox screen than the usual tests for alcohol, amphetamines, barbiturates, marijuana, and opiates. Back then, her gut told her Jay’s heart attack wasn’t the result of stress of his being found out but because someone didn’t want him searching for answers.

But with the Tophers threatening to sue for recovery of the money Jay supposedly stole—and wasn’t accounted for in the offshore bank accounts linked to him—and their circle of friends shrinking each time another story hit the papers, she didn’t have the energy or the funds to pursue it on her own. Maybe it wasn’t too late to re-examine her husband’s body, but she’d tackle that question once she had enough evidence to reopen the case.

Emily moved again on the bed, still unable to get comfortable. Her leg and hip ached. Why hadn’t the nurse come back with her pain meds for the night? She reached for the call button and pressed it.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and a figure dressed in scrubs stepped inside, leaving the door ajar. Emily raised the head of the bed slightly. “Did you bring my pain meds? I’m really uncomfortable.”

“These will make all of that go away.” The voice, muffled by a facemask, didn’t sound like the usual night nurse.

In the darkened room with only the light from the hallway, Emily couldn’t make out the nurse’s identity but could tell it was a man by the height and breadth of his shoulders. No soft round curves on his body.

The nurse handed Emily a paper pill cup. “Here you go.”

Emily stared into the cup, noting the oblong, rather than round, shape of the pills. “These look different.”

“We were running low on the usual ones, but these will work just fine.” The nurse held out her plastic water mug. “Down the hatch.”

She wanted to press the man for an explanation, but some instinct told her to appear to comply. She tossed the pills from the cup into her mouth, then took the water and sipped, swallowing the water but keeping the pills tucked into her cheek.

The nurse appeared satisfied with her performance because he patted her shoulder. “You’ll feel better soon.” Then he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Quickly, Emily spat out the pills into the empty water cup before using some water to swish out her mouth. She removed the lid to spit the water back into the plastic mug. Then she mashed down the call button over and over again until her door burst open.

“Ms. Ainsley, are you okay?” The usual nighttime nurse rushed to the table, a paper cup in her hand.

Emily burst into tears. “I think he tried to kill me.”

“What?” The nurse—Merena, Emily recalled from other nights—flipped on the overhead light, flooding the room with brightness.

“Someone came in dressed like a nurse and gave me those pills.” She pointed to the paper cup on the bedside table. “But they didn’t look like the ones I usually take, so I pretended to swallow them and spit them out when he left.”

“Let’s take a look.” Merena dumped the contents onto the table. Three purple capsules rolled a few times on the surface.

The nurse frowned. “These are not on your pill list. I’m not sure what’s in them.” She handed Emily a pill cup. “These are your extra strength Tylenol the doctor prescribed for your pain.”

“Would you please get me some fresh water?”

As the nurse complied with her request, Emily verified the pills were indeed Tylenol. She then took the Tylenol to ease the discomfort. “What about the other ones? And the male nurse who tried to give them to me?”

Merena scooped the purple pills back into the cup. “I’ll take these to our lab and see what’s inside them, then stop by security to mention the nurse. Can you describe him?”

Emily gave as many details as she could about the man, which was precious little given the room’s darkness and his face mask. Merena left with assurances they would be extra vigilant the rest of the night with plenty of extra checks on Emily. Emily wanted to press for more, but without knowing the contents of the purple pills, it wasn’t clear what the man’s intention had been. Emily had no doubt the pills would contain something designed to kill her. Why else would someone sneak into her room to give her the pills?

Then she remembered Jetta and the papers someone sent Jay. Would her daughter be in danger now too? First thing tomorrow, Emily would contact the detective who had come to arrest Jay. The woman had seemed to care, even coming to Jay’s funeral—something not even many of their so-called friends had done in the aftermath of the embezzlement accusations. Maybe seeing the papers and whatever the lab found out about the purple pills would be enough to propel Detective Washington to open a new case to find the real embezzler—or at least look into her nighttime visitor. And she would warn Jetta to be very careful.

As sleep finally reached out to embrace Emily, one question circled round and round like the Johnny Cash album her husband played on their stereo system. In trying to clear her husband’s name, had she brought evil into her life?

* * *

Ryan Topher adjusted his red power tie, the silk bringing to mind a slash of blood against the stark white dress shirt. He shrugged into the custom-made navy-blue suit jacket and buttoned the top button. The full-length mirror in his executive suite bathroom showed a man in his prime, ready to take on the world. He’d need that persona if he were to convince the board and their largest shareholders to reject Maxwell Technology’s hostile takeover bid.

His desk phone buzzed, and he punched the speaker button. “Yes?”

“Mr. Topher, Dr. Willis and Dr. James are here,” Mae informed him.

“Send them in.” He sank into the high-backed leather office chair, letting his gaze roam around the well-appointed space. From his antique banker’s desk polished every evening to a high shine to the Persian carpet overlaid on the more serviceable wall-to-wall carpet to the small paintings and objects d’art placed strategically to show off his impeccable taste, Ryan prided himself on his excellent taste. He hadn’t spent the last twenty years acquiring the trappings of wealth to lose it in a hostile takeover.

The man and woman who entered wore white lab coats, attesting to the fact he’d pulled them from their work in the company’s research wing. Dr. Jana Willis strode to his desk, stopping inches from it. “What do you want?”

Her clipped tone indicated his summons had better be for an excellent reason, or she’d carve him up for lunch. He hid his amusement at her directness, which he put up with because she was one of the nation’s brightest robotics engineers. “Dr. Willis, I need an update on the project.” No need to designate which project—there was only one that interested all three of them.

She removed her glasses, polishing them with the hem of the lab coat. “As I told you last week, we are very close to a workable prototype.” Replacing the glasses, she glared through their thick lenses. “This is not something to be rushed.”

Dr. Brian James added, “There has been progress over the past week. We’ve isolated the problem that caused the malfunction of the previous prototype and are now testing solutions to fix it.”

Ryan regarded them steadily, his mind whirring with how to spin this to convince the board and shareholders to not accept the takeover bid. “What’s the new timeline?”

The doctors exchanged glances, then Dr. Willis shrugged. “Perhaps another six months.”

Ryan slammed his fist down on the desk, and the two scientists flinched. “We don’t have that long. Do you not understand what might happen in forty-five minutes? The shareholders of Topher Robotics with the full backing of the majority of the board are likely to vote to accept Maxwell Technology’s takeover bid. You know what Maxwell Technology does to tech companies like ours? They strip it of all saleable assets, then leave it a hollow shell of its former self.”

When neither scientist spoke, he added, “They will take your work—all of your hard work—and shove you out the door without so much as an acknowledgement of your contributions to the project.”

Dr. James’s face lost its color, but he lifted his chin. “Then I think it’s best if you allow us to get back to work.”

Ryan considered the man’s request, then waved them off. “Keep me informed—and only me.”

He’d hoped to have more ammunition to tease the shareholders with visions of tech glory—and riches from the AI-powered wearable technology. He suspected several shareholders were behind the takeover bid, and he had to keep the exact nature of the project a secret, or Maxwell Technology would press harder. Ryan discarded several scenarios before coming up with a plausible story, one that should ignite interest and hold the wolves at bay for a few more weeks. With any luck, it would quash the takeover bid entirely, although he’d be satisfied with a stay of execution. Anything to stop a close look at the company’s books.