by L E Fraser
“I don’t think he removed the money,” Danny said. “I think the family clawed it back.”
“Are you sure?” Sam asked.
“No, but the dude is broke or close to it,” Danny said. “He’s carrying a hefty line of credit at the Royal Bank and has over a quarter of a million dollars in commercial debt on various credit cards.”
Reece whistled. “That would keep me up at night. Grace told us that Adaline’s family didn’t approve of the marriage and there were rumours around her death,” he said. “Maybe they had some way of preventing the trust from falling into his hands.”
“Does Mathias pay income tax?” Sam asked Danny.
She got up, fetched her laptop from where she’d dumped it by the front door, and took a minute to look up something. “Every year before the due date,” she replied, studying her computer. “Beauregard’s net income last year was just shy of two hundred grand. He filed partnership income from Serenity Clinic and investment income.”
“Is the house on Bridle Path in his name?” Sam asked.
Danny nodded. “And I didn’t find anything levied against the house.”
Even without a mortgage, Mathias’s annual income was barely enough to sustain his multimillion-dollar home.
“Mom and Harvey spend over seventy-five-thousand a year on property tax,” Sam said. “Hydro, water, and gas are close to five grand a month. Then there’s maintenance on the house and property, which I don’t even want to guess at.”
“So the man needs money and a lot of it,” Reece said.
“If he’s involved in some medical conspiracy to implant a genetically engineered fetus in Fadiya or he’s a sex trader, there should be a money trail,” Sam said.
“I’m not a financial forensic analyst,” Danny said. “If you want to track illegal money, you need to involve someone better qualified.”
“If it is not related to computers, bioinformatics, or genetics, Danny is not interested.” Eli tossed Pepin’s elephant across the room and the puppy scrambled gleefully after it.
“So, Mathias didn’t lie to Emily about his financial situation,” Sam said.
“He’s living a conspicuous consumption lifestyle in a mansion he can’t afford,” Reece said.
The doorbell rang and Reece went to answer it. “I’ve never understood why people think the appearance of money makes them superior.”
Sam wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or disappointed that Mathias wasn’t a corrupt doctor on the take. She would have garnered a great deal of satisfaction from exposing the arrogant man as a criminal. Hearing voices at the door, Sam went over and peeked around Reece’s shoulder.
“Aazar,” she said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry to intrude. I wonder if I can speak with you.”
“Sure. This is my business partner and fiancé, Reece Hash.”
Reece offered his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said and closed the door after Aazar.
His colour was bad, a sort of bluish grey. Fearing he’d pass out before they got him to the living room, Sam pulled out a dining room chair for him. She waited until he had sat and adjusted his oxygen flow before she took the chair across from him.
Danny stood beside the table with a dazed expression. “You’re Aazar Basha,” she squeaked. “You won the Gairdner Award last year for advancing humanity. You’re rumoured to be a sure winner for the Nobel Prize in physiology and medicine.”
“If my research has the desired outcome, perhaps they will consider me,” he replied modestly. “They’ve yet to name me as a candidate.”
“You’re my hero,” Danny blurted, and a deep blush coloured her full cheeks. “I mean, your work is brilliant. I’ve read everything you’ve ever written.” She tucked her short hair behind her ears in a preening fashion Sam had never witnessed.
“Are you a doctor?” Aazar asked politely, but his tone and expression showed little interest.
“My sister has her PhD in computer engineering and a master’s in computer science,” Eli said proudly. “She is only twenty-five and is one of Canada’s youngest women to earn such high academic achievements. She is very smart. Now she is studying genetics at Harvard.”
“This is Eli Watson,” Sam said. “He works for us and Danny often consults.”
“My current focus is bioinformatics,” Danny said to Aazar, sitting on the ladder back chair beside him. “I only do online courses at Harvard.”
“I will invite you to my lab,” Aazar replied, and fussed with his oxygen.
“You will or you are?” Danny asked.
Aazar finally looked at her. “Tenacious. I admire that trait in a scientist.” He rummaged in a pocket of his portable oxygen bag and handed her a card. “That’s my private number. Text me your availability.”
Danny blushed again and took the card, staring at it with reverence.
“You are Fadiya’s brother.” Eli squashed a chair in between his sister and Aazar, forcing both to shift their own chairs to make room for him. “Has something happened to her?” Anger flickered in Eli’s eyes and he turned to glare at Sam. “You said she would never be alone. You said she was safe.”
Sam ignored him. “What’s going on?” she asked Aazar.
“I saw my sister today. She has a large hematoma on the inside of her left thigh. The bruise is a hand print.” Aazar’s frown deepened. “She said that the ‘brother’ who brought Mussani last night carried a small black box. He moved the instrument slowly and methodically around her room. Then, he turned out all the lights and again circled the room.”
Danny leaned around her brother to speak to Aazar. “The box sounds like a radio frequency detector.”
“He was sweeping her room for cameras and bugs,” Sam said. “LED lights on cameras blink in low light. That’s why he turned off the lights.”
Eli abruptly stood, knocking over his chair in the process. He marched in a tight circle, his eyes darting across the ceiling. “You said a nurse would be with Fadiya every night.” He tapped the words against the air in front of his face, becoming more agitated with each syllable. “You said she would be safe. Someone is selling her for sex. She is being raped. We must do something. She is not safe. You lied.” His voice rose with each sentence.
“Eli—” Sam began.
“He’s right,” Aazar interrupted. “My sister is in grave danger in that clinic. Dr. Armstrong lied about the results of the urine test.”
“The lab could have made a mistake,” Sam said. “I’ll have another sample tested at an independent lab.”
“Pointless!” Aazar’s shout startled her. His frustration was clear in his sharp tone and the way he physically closed off his body by crossing his arms and legs. “Assuming Dr. Armstrong isn’t behind what is happening to my sister, she’ll dispute the results. Her only focus is to protect her precious clinic.”
“Emily Armstrong promised that a nurse would be with Fadiya overnight.” Eli continued to pace in a tight circle. “That was a lie. Emily Armstrong is a liar.”
“We don’t know that,” Sam said sharply. “Aazar, was Ophelia in your sister’s room last night?”
“Not that I’m aware, but something strange did happen yesterday,” he said. “My specialist performed the cordocentesis to test the umbilical cord stem cells. When Fadiya returned to the clinic, a patient accosted her in the lobby and screamed at her not to take candy from the wolf. It scared my sister.”
Something about the statement tugged at Sam’s memory. It hovered just beyond her consciousness, but she couldn’t grasp it.
“I’ve noticed that my sister is more herself lately,” Aazar said. “I believe that’s why she remembered the man searching her room before ‘Mussani’ arrived.” His lips thinned with contempt.
Sam had also noticed Fadiya’s increased lucidity. Sadly, it hadn’t helped her get through to the girl. She’d shown her pictures of Eli’s horse ranch for kids with Asperger’s
, which was situated on the old Bueton land, hoping it would help her to accept that the cult was gone. This had only angered the girl, who then claimed a brother had warned her that Sam would lie to keep Mussani to herself. Sam had planned to appeal to Emily tomorrow for permission to take Fadiya to the camp. Allowing Fadiya to see the changes for herself could be a monumental step in her recovery. But that was before Emily had denied the presence of ketamine in the girl’s urine and neglected to assign Ophelia to Fadiya’s room overnight. Right now, protecting the girl—possibly from her primary physician—had to take precedence over therapy.
“What did your sister say about the bruise on her thigh?” Sam asked.
“She said ‘Mussani’ was rough. He hurt her.” Aazar held a handkerchief against his mouth with a shaking hand. “The bruises, the ketamine, the pregnancy—” He spat out the word and choked, pausing to catch his breath. “Her confusion over Mussani is because he is not one man.” He twisted the white handkerchief in his hands and dropped his eyes to his lap. “He is many men in the same disguise.” He lifted his eyes and held her gaze. “I still believe the baby could be a product of human gene editing, but I also agree with Eli. Fadiya is a victim of forced prostitution and it’s my fault.”
“None of this is your fault,” Sam said gently, reaching for his hand.
“It is.” His expression was blank. “I took my sister to Bueton. I gave her to Mussani.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Reece
SHOCK SLACKENED DANNY’S face. She jerked her chair away from Aazar, creating physical distance between herself and her fallen hero. Eli abruptly stopped pacing and stared at the back of Aazar’s head. Sam’s hand froze a centimetre from Aazar’s hand.
“Everything I did was to protect and honour Fadiya,” he said softly. “Everything I did destroyed her life.”
“You took your twelve-year-old sister to a cult and left her there.” It was a supreme struggle for Reece to keep his voice impassive. “Why?”
“I didn’t know it was a cult,” Aazar said, wringing his handkerchief in his hands. “I thought it was a religious retreat where people lived closer to God. I wanted to free my sister.”
“From what?” Reece asked.
“The harvesting,” Aazar said quietly. “If they couldn’t find her, they couldn’t force her to be a living donor.”
“Why didn’t you refuse to undergo the procedures like you did today?” There was a razor-sharp edge to Sam’s tone.
“Back then, my mother was my substitute decision-maker,” Aazar said. “I didn’t have the legal power to refuse.”
“You can’t expect us to believe that authorities deemed a scientific prodigy incapable of making his own medical decisions,” Reece said incredulously.
Sam sighed and folded her hands against the top of the table. “Consent is complicated in chronic conditions,” she explained. “Physicians have the legal and ethical right to assess capacity on case-specific circumstances. Aazar, is that what—”
“Bullshit.” Danny’s face flushed with anger and she jumped to her feet, knocking aside her chair. “Five years ago, he was testing his nanotechnology research.” She pointed an accusing finger at Aazar. “No judge would deem him incapable. He had a medical degree and PhDs in physics and molecular biology before he was even twenty-one.”
Aazar flinched. “You don’t understand. Islamic law prohibits me from dishonouring my parents.”
“But it doesn’t prohibit you from giving your sister—an inferior female—to a sociopath,” Danny shouted. “And now that some man has raped her, you can free her through death!” She took a threatening step toward Aazar, who cringed against the back of his chair. “Muslims condone honour killing.” Danny’s face was puce, and a thick vein throbbed in her forehead. “In your twisted culture it’s okeydokey to murder and dehumanize women because—”
“Danny, enough,” Reece yelled over her tyranny. “Go for a walk.” He got up and tossed her Pepin’s leash, which she angrily caught in one hand, spinning around to glare at Aazar once more. For a horrible second, Reece feared she was going to whip him with the leather leash.
Eli took it from her hand. “My sister is passionately opposed to the Taliban’s oppression and mistreatment of women and girls,” he said stiltedly.
“We are Afghan, not Taliban,” Aazar replied.
“Giving your sister to a sexual deviant for his enjoyment sounds like something a Taliban would do,” Eli stated.
Danny’s eyes blazed with fury as she stared Aazar down. Before her temporary inability to speak manifested into physical violence, Reece physically backed her toward the front door. He left Eli inside to fetch Pepin, herded Danny into the hallway, and then shut the door behind him. Rather than confronting her over her behaviour, Reece took a minute to cool off himself.
He didn’t agree with her insulting conduct, but he understood what had triggered it. Because of the physical and sexual abuse in their childhoods, Danny and Eli viewed Fadiya as a kindred spirit. Once Sam had cleared Aazar from the suspicion of incest, Danny had returned him to the pedestal she’d constructed for the scientific prodigy. She had believed that Aazar protected Fadiya in the same way Eli protected her. Instead, her hero, a genius whom she admired for his vast intellectual prowess and humanitarianism, had perpetrated the ultimate betrayal. Aazar had abandoned his pubescent sister to a stone-cold sociopath, just as Danny’s mother had sold her to a human trafficker.
Eli opened the door and stepped out into the hallway with the puppy trotting beside him. He closed the door behind him and avoided Reece’s eye. Rather than acknowledging his sister, Eli walked to the base of the staircase that led to the front lobby. He paused without turning. Danny marched to the staircase, edged past him, and jogged down the stairs two at a time.
Eli turned to Reece with no expression. “She is fine now.” He followed his sister, Pepin at his side.
Reece blew out his breath in exasperation. He had seen no indication that Danny was fine. He silently watched them through the large stairwell window. They exited the building and strolled down Queen Street.
They shared an unsettling, codependent relationship that had always made Reece uneasy. They lived on the fringes of society, entombed by tragic childhood memories. Their past governed their present and would eventually destroy their future. Worse, Danny chose to live in self-imposed isolation—employing tactless brusqueness to deter anyone who tried to penetrate her armour—and Eli enabled his foster sister’s reclusive behaviour, believing he was protecting her. It was dysfunctional, to say the least.
As he stood alone in the quiet hallway, a sudden memory flashed across Reece’s mind. He remembered being fifteen, and he’d been lecturing his twin brother about his poor life choices.
“It must be complicated to be you,” Ray had said with his iconic half-smile. “Don’t you ever get tired of being so judgmental? You’re the moral majority, bro, and living up to your lofty standards is exhausting. I pity the woman who ends up with you.”
Reece felt heat rise in his face now, and he experienced a rush of shame over how he’d always policed his twin brother’s actions. Was he doing the same thing by judging Danny and Eli’s relationship? When had he turned into such a pedantic and superior man?
His headache had returned with zeal and pain throbbed behind his left eye. He wanted to curl up in bed and try to forget this day had ever happened. Instead, he had to go back inside and listen to Aazar justify why he’d delivered his twelve-year-old sister to a cult.
When Reece grudgingly entered the loft, Aazar was saying to Sam, “That’s when I found a cottage in Uthisca for rent and asked my parents for a holiday.”
Half-listening, Reece went into the kitchen and selected a bottle of wine. Probably not a great idea with a migraine brewing, but Sam looked as if she could use a glass. He took three clean glasses and the wine to the table. Aazar shook his head when Reece offered him a glass.
“Fadiya
and I went into town one afternoon,” Aazar continued. “I went to the store the Bueton member on campus had told me about.”
“Mussani had people on the university and college campuses across the Greater Toronto Area,” Sam explained to Reece. “While attending University of Toronto, Aazar heard about a cloistered paradise in Uthisca.”
“Bueton Sanctuary.” Reece sipped the full-bodied, ruby red Shiraz.
“I didn’t know it was a cult,” Aazar said miserably.
“I was the Inspector of the provincial police detachment in Uthisca,” Reece said. “We didn’t know what it was, either.” The admission was bitter, souring the sweet blueberry undertones of the wine. How naive he’d been to view Bueton as a harmless commune.
“There were girls in the store, some of them the same age as my sister,” Aazar said. “Fadiya had never had friends. My mother home-schooled her because of how much time she spent in hospital.” He looked into the distance, his brown eyes wistful. “She was so excited to spend time with girls her own age. They were all so nice to her.”
Sam lowered her eyes with a strained expression. “Mussani trained the children carefully. Their job was to befriend a potential member’s kid. It’s easier for children to convince other children.” She scrubbed at her lips with the back of her hand, a gesture of anxiety Reece recognized.
“Fadiya wanted to go back to the compound to help the girls make candles,” Aazar said. “I wanted to meet Mussani.” He hung his head. “I wanted to ask him to take my sister.”
“Did you meet him?” Reece asked.
Aazar nodded. “I explained my medical situation and Mussani was sympathetic, saying that no child of God stood above another. He promised that Fadiya would be safe at Bueton,” he said. “I spent the day with Mussani and his council. I’m ashamed to admit that I liked him.”
“You aren’t alone. Mussani was very charming,” Reece said. “His amiability tricked almost everyone in Uthisca.”
“Thank you for saying that,” Aazar said. “I’ve replayed that day over and over in my head, trying to understand how I failed to recognize him as a monster.”