by Lisa Gardner
“Dale disinherited his wife. Gave it all to his son?” Special Agent Adams, frowning.
“Yes, which she took personally. Except, rather than hate Dale, which would’ve made sense, she took out her rage on Justin. Moved to Arizona and cut him out of her life completely. She’s never met Libby, let alone her granddaughter.”
The office fell silent as the three investigators digested this.
“Meaning,” Anita said after another moment, “that Libby and Ashlyn are the only family Justin has left. He…he valued them. Maybe even placed them on a pedestal. His daughter, Ashlyn…he worshipped her. Brought her to the office, taught her personally how to use power tools. In fact, last I heard, they were taking shooting lessons together. Daddy-daughter day on the firing range. Go figure.
“As for Libby, I’ve never heard him speak of her except in glowing terms. He took pride in how she arranged their home, her success with her jewelry, then the dinner parties she’d host on his behalf… I always felt that he genuinely loved her, was openly appreciative of how lucky he was to have her. But that’s not to say he didn’t make mistakes.”
Anita’s gaze was on Tessa now, no doubt recalling her earlier question about the company’s future in the event of a divorce.
“He cheated on Libby.” Tessa stated it as a fact, not a question.
“Yes.”
“You knew?”
“Most of us heard about it eventually. Late spring, early summer? Justin started showing up late at work, looking haggard, not himself. Eventually, the story came out.”
“What did he have to say?” Special Agent Adams.
“He didn’t. I mean, certainly I never heard him…make excuses. He screwed up. He knew he screwed up. He was raised in that kind of marriage. He had a firsthand seat to just how damaging infidelity can be. Though, of course…”
“Yes?” Special Agent Adams pressed.
Anita sighed, gazing at the two female investigators as if they had the best shot at understanding: “In the immediate aftermath, he sent Libby a diamond necklace. A rather large and flamboyant diamond necklace. Just because you know better doesn’t mean you can’t be stupid.”
“What did Libby do?” Tessa asked.
“Being a jewelry designer with a nice collection of tools, she apparently took the necklace apart, link by link, and left it in a pile on the front seat of his car. After that, I believe he got the message.”
“Were they going to counseling?” Wyatt again.
“I don’t know those kinds of details. But they were working on their marriage. Justin had moved back into the house. And certainly, all day Friday he kept talking about their upcoming dinner at Scampo. He sounded excited for it.”
Tessa leaned forward. The COO’s face seemed open enough, as if she’d joined their program of full disclosure. And yet…
“When did Justin first start cheating on his wife?”
Anita stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, a guy as good-looking as him. Had a job that kept him on the road. Plus, like you said, grew up with a father who apparently thought a hard day’s work justified a hard night’s play. Did Justin really believe in being more faithful to his wife, or was he just better at covering his tracks?”
“I don’t get involved—”
“Sure you do. You’re the chief of a family-owned business. In your own words, that involves dealing with the family, as much as the business. Six months ago, this family fell apart. Libby discovered Justin had been cheating on her with a travel agent downstairs. What else did she finally figure out?”
“Ashlyn,” the COO said abruptly.
“What about Ashlyn?”
“She came to the office, three months ago. She confronted the girl Justin was rumored to be involved with. And she made quite a scene.”
ANITA HAD JUST BEEN ENTERING THE BUILDING when she’d heard the commotion. Ashlyn Denbe, still clad in her private-school uniform of green-and-blue plaid, was screaming at one of the dark-haired young travel agents. Words such as slut, whore, cunt.
The travel agent was standing there, shell-shocked, when Anita had intervened. She’d dragged Ashlyn upstairs to the relative privacy of Anita’s office—Justin had been out of town on business, thank goodness. Anita had barely gotten the door shut when Ashlyn had burst into tears.
She hated travel agents. She hated this building. She hated Denbe Construction. But most of all she hated her father. All these years, preaching honor and loyalty, then he’d gone and cheated on her mother. Now their family was a mess, and her mom was a mess and it was all his fault. She wished he were dead.
Anita sighed heavily. “Teenage girls,” she murmured. “Thank God, I have three boys instead.”
“What did you do?” asked Special Agent Adams.
“Informed her of the facts of life. What had happened had happened, and there was nothing she could do about it now. Then I told her to go home and stay there. No returning to this building, no yelling at travel agents. This was her parents’ business, not hers.”
“And how did she take that?”
“Glared at me mutinously.” Anita rolled her eyes. “Teenage girls,” she murmured again.
“Did she return?”
“Not that I heard of. It’s possible. I also informed her that if I saw her again, I’d tell her mother. Libby didn’t deserve that kind of added stress, and Ashlyn knew it. The girl is loyal to her mother. She’s just…hurt. Fathers aren’t supposed to be human, you know, especially not the ones who’ve raised their girls to be Daddy’s little princesses.”
“Sounds to me that family was still going through a rough patch.” Special Agent Adams, clearly fishing.
The COO shrugged, not taking the bait.
Wyatt’s question was more direct. “Talk to us about divorce. Date night doesn’t do the trick, Libby decides to go ahead and hire a lawyer. What happens to the family firm?”
For a change, Anita seemed genuinely perplexed. “I… I don’t know. Justin is the sole shareholder. He was wealthy when he first met Libby, so there may be a prenup. If not, I would assume she’d be entitled to fifty percent of their assets, which would include fifty percent of the business.”
“Hefty price to pay for an active social life,” Tessa said dryly.
“Do the crime, serve the time,” Anita answered just as succinctly.
“You think Justin would be willing to part with half his firm?” Wyatt again, his tone patient but probing.
“I don’t… I can’t answer that.”
Which Tessa personally took to mean no. Protect the boss, that seemed to be Denbe Construction’s standard operating procedure. Meaning if they weren’t answering a question, there was something they didn’t want you to hear.
“And if he dies?” Wyatt again, tone still even. “If Justin Denbe isn’t found alive…?”
“I would assume the company reverts to his surviving family. First Libby, then Ashlyn.”
“And in the event they’re dead, too?”
That guarded look again. “I would think there is some kind of provision in Justin’s will. You should follow up with his lawyer, Austin Ferland. He’d know.”
“What about the employees?” Special Agent Adams. “In the event that the entire Denbe family died, would there be an opportunity for, say, the core management team to purchase the company?”
Anita’s gaze definitely sliding sideways…
“Ever try to buy in before?” Wyatt, piling on. “After all, hundred-mil company, you got thirty-five years of blood, sweat and tears tied up into it. Why should Justin have all the glory?”
“We would never try to take over—”
“Not saying take over. Just…buy in. Happens. Hardworking employees get to become profit-worthy shareholders. Ever approach Justin? Raise the question?”
“Once.” She said the word grudgingly. “Cash flow was tight. Some of us, myself included, offered to invest into the company in exchange for an ownership stake.”
“Define others?” Special Agent Adams, clearly intrigued by this line of questioning.
“Myself, Chris Lopez, Ruth Chan. It was a win-win proposition. Doesn’t matter, though. Justin declined. He felt the company could weather the economic downturn, which it did.”
“Except, you still didn’t have an equity stake to benefit from its hundred-million-dollar success.”
“Our bonuses were particularly large that year,” Anita replied curtly.
But even Tessa could read between those lines. A bonus wasn’t the same as ownership. Clearly, Justin Denbe didn’t share his toys. Which already made Tessa wonder what he’d do in the event of a divorce. If he wasn’t willing to share the company with his most trusted management team, would he really share it with his jilted ex-wife?
“Besides,” Anita continued, “I wouldn’t include myself as a prospective buyer anymore. In the last few years, there’s been a shift in the industry. We’re a design-and-build firm, and unfortunately for us, the future of institutional construction seems to be companies that can design, build and operate. For example, a fully turnkey company that designs, builds, then runs the senior care facility on behalf of the state. Justin himself doesn’t believe this mega model will last. He’s convinced that, eventually, the operating costs of running these facilities will overextend the private firms just as much as it did the government agencies. Or, perhaps more prophetically, there will be some kind of scandal—an escape at a major prison, a death at a senior home—that will cause public backlash toward private handling of public institutions. But, in the meantime, given the number of jobs on which we’ve recently been outbid…” The COO thinned her lips, stopped talking.
“Tensions are high?” Special Agent Adams asked.
“We have the necessary cash reserves,” Anita replied, which Tessa took to mean that tensions were very high, and in fact, the future of Justin’s hundred-million-dollar firm wasn’t so certain after all. Interesting. If memory served, just an hour ago, in the conference room, the COO had stated emphatically that Justin had no angst over the future of the company and all was well on the corporate front. Now, suddenly the future wasn’t so bright, and here was a thought—Justin’s disappearance/untimely demise might allow for a significant change in corporate direction, possibly even save a sinking ship. Seemed like the column for winners in the event of Justin Denbe’s death was steadily racking up names.
“However,” Anita said abruptly, as if she’d read Tessa’s mind, “even if this firm ceased to exist, most people around here would survive just fine. There are old-timers”—she used the word dryly—“such as myself, who’ve logged enough of the good years, stuffing our mattresses. As for the younger guys, Chris and his crew, most of them could easily find a similar job at a rival firm with very little fuss. At the end of the day, this is all just…business.” Anita waved her hand. “And what about a day’s work is worth harming someone over?”
Good question, Tessa thought, and yet people got killed over money and business transactions all the time.
“Would you like to know the true paradox of the Denbe male?” Anita asked abruptly.
“By all means,” Tessa assured her.
“They may not be faithful, but they are loyal. Dale loved Mary. Justin, from everything I’ve ever seen, loves his wife, too. He would never choose divorce. And he would certainly never do anything to harm his family. Especially not Ashlyn. Dear God… I mean, maybe if only Libby were missing, some of your questions would make more sense. But you can ask anyone, everyone… Justin Denbe would never harm a hair on his daughter’s head. And if you understand that most of us here have watched Ashlyn grow up before our eyes… We’d never harm her, either. Whatever has happened…we’re not the problem. Justin’s not the problem.”
“Then who is?” Tessa couldn’t help herself.
“I don’t know. The kind of person who is heartless enough to attack an entire family. I mean, why?”
“Question of the day,” Tessa assured her. Personal or professional. Ransom or revenge?
“There is, maybe…one last thing.”
They glanced at Anita expectantly. “Last time I saw Libby was several weeks ago. She came in to sign some forms. She seemed…off. Actually, I had a flashback to Mary Denbe and her four-martini lunches. Except, Libby didn’t smell like alcohol.”
“You think she was under the influence?” Special Agent Adams pressed.
“I would guess she was on something, you know, trying to dull her pain. I almost said something to Justin, but then I thought, they’re already dealing with so much… We’re pulling for them. Despite what you may think, each of us here, we’re hoping the marriage works out. Once upon a time, they were such a great couple. We remember those days, even if they don’t.”
Anita seemed to finally run out of things to say. With no more revelations, they wrapped up the interview and exited the office. It was now after midnight. The other officers had already completed their interviews, the conference room deserted when they reentered it.
Just to be sure, Special Agent Adams walked the perimeter, peering through the frosted glass panes that overlooked the rest of the offices.
“The Boston detectives recovered a prescription bottle for hydrocodone in Libby Denbe’s purse,” she stated without preamble. “Filled two days ago, already one-third empty.”
Wyatt picked up the thought trail first. “Libby was abusing painkillers.”
“According to the pill count on the bottle, she’d taken twenty pills in just two days…”
“Can’t just be one prescription, then,” Wyatt mused. “Not if she’s using at that level.”
“Doctor shopping,” Tessa supplied. “A woman of her socioeconomics. Most likely she’s going from doctor to doctor, cataloging fictional pains.”
Wyatt turned to Nicole. “You said the prescription bottle was in her purse?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Meaning it was left behind.”
“Makes sense,” the blonde replied. “Their personal possessions were all piled on the kitchen island.”
Tessa got it, the point Wyatt was trying to make. “Detox,” she murmured.
The New Hampshire detective glanced at her, nodding appraisingly. “And how. Wonder if her abductors expected that little development. That one of their abductees would”—he glanced at his watch—“right about now start suffering from extremely painful, extremely high-maintenance withdrawal symptoms.”
Special Agent Adams turned at the end of the table. “She might even need medical care.”
“Avenues to start pursuing,” Wyatt said thoughtfully. “Assuming the kidnappers are willing to risk discovery by taking her to a local hospital. But, yeah, I’ll put out a bulletin to keep an eye on emergency rooms for a woman matching Libby Denbe’s description.”
“You think they’re still alive?” Tessa couldn’t help herself. She glanced at the FBI agent, then the New Hampshire sheriff’s detective. They both shrugged.
“Don’t know,” Special Agent Adams replied honestly, “though I certainly hope so.”
“I still put the odds in our favor,” Wyatt said. “If they wanted the family dead, no reason they couldn’t have taken care of business up close and personal, then left behind three bodies. The use of Tasers suggests to me there’s more at play here than simply eliminating the family.”
Tessa nodded, if only because it was late, and given their lack of immediate progress, she needed something to believe in.
“Tell you something else,” Wyatt continued. “This company, these people”—he grimaced—“what a bunch of liars.”
He said it so flatly, Tessa almost burst out laughing. But she recovered herself quickly enough to ask, “What makes you say that?”
“They’ve all got Justin Denbe’s back, except, you know, when they’re trying to buy his company. And the business is doing great, except, of course, there’s this whole new branch of mega-corporations that are stealing their jobs. Oh yeah, and
they don’t know anything about the family’s secrets, except of course, when they are the family secret.”
“Who’s the family secret?” Special Agent Adams, looking confused.
“Anita Bennett. You didn’t pick up on that?”
“Pick up on what?”
Wyatt gave them both a look. “The expression on her face every time she said Justin’s father’s name. Telling you now, she wasn’t just one of Dale’s employees. She was one of his conquests. That whole unfaithful but loyal speech? Because Dale was unfaithful with her but remained loyal to his wife. Meaning when he died, both of the women in his life got shafted.”
“Mary left, Anita stayed behind,” Tessa murmured. “Continuing to rise up the corporate ranks, but thirty-five years later, still just an employee, never an owner.”
“Some people might get a little bitter about that,” Wyatt observed.
Special Agent Adams smiled for the first time all night. It was a particularly scary look for her. “And some people might decide to finally take what they believe they so richly deserve.”
Chapter 22
THEY TOOK JUSTIN AWAY.
Ashlyn had fallen asleep. I was drifting in and out, exhaustion dragging me under only for an achy, restless pain to prick me back to consciousness. My concussion, withdrawal, who knew. I dreamed of dark, turbulent seas, monsters and bared fangs and striking cobras. Then I would wake up, curled into a ball, shaking uncontrollably, head nearly shattering in agony.
I don’t think Justin was sleeping. Each time my eyes opened, I would find him standing at the cell door, shoulders back, face tense, a caged beast still seeking a way out. Or maybe a sentry, standing guard.
Either way, it didn’t save him.
The door blew open. That’s how it felt. I had dozed off, then suddenly, bam!
The steel door, flying open, two intruders pouring in. They each bore mattresses, held as shields below their dark helmeted heads. Faceplates obscured their features, until they appeared as dark, armor-plated beetles coming to get us. One of my own crazy dreams coming to life.