Investigating 101

by Debra Webb

  “Sweet. You’re right.” She shifted her face back to him then, a new glint of determination in her eyes. “But I wasn’t always so sweet, Mr. Thompson. There are things about me you won’t ever know and couldn’t begin to imagine.”

  She got out. Leaving him too stunned to reply.

  Was that a warning…or an invitation?

  Chapter Eight

  Serena lagged behind as Todd Thompson climbed the stairs of the Victorian house that decades ago had been dissected into several apartments. Unlike the exterior, not much inside remained of the home’s former glory. Despite the dim lighting, occasional glimpses of intricate molding and gleaming wood floors served as reminders of what had once been.

  He stopped on the second-floor landing and waited for her to catch up.

  “This is it.”

  He gestured to the red door on his right. Two more doors stood on the left, each designated with a single-digit number. Door number six sported a grapevine wreath embellished with silk flowers in spring colors and an equally colorful welcome mat, while door five offered a small plaque warning solicitors away. Thompson’s door presented only one detail that spoke about his personality, an additional dead-bolt lock. The wooden staircase did a U-turn and continued upward to the third floor.

  He unlocked the door, all three locks, and shoved it inward. After reaching inside to flip on a light, he backed against the wall and waited for her to enter ahead of him. “Make yourself at home.”

  Serena didn’t hesitate. Part of her couldn’t wait to get a closer look at who Todd Thompson was. The place looked neater than she’d expected. The shirt he’d worn yesterday lay, one sleeve inside out, across the arm of an upholstered chair. Newspapers and magazines cluttered the coffee table. A plaid sofa, flanked by tables and lamps, took up most of the space on one side of the room. A desk with two computers and a small entertainment center lined the opposite wall. Two upholstered chairs and an ottoman in coordinating colors completed the furnishings.

  Beyond the living room was a small but efficient eat-in kitchen. Surprisingly, there were no dirty dishes on the counter or the table. He either didn’t eat at home or cleaned up after himself unusually well for a bachelor under the age of thirty. And one who prided himself on looking unkempt.

  She heard the click of the locks tumbling back into the secure position. “Do you have a cleaning lady?” The question kind of popped out of her mouth before she could stop it. Oh, well, after her admission in the car, why in the world would anything else that came out of her mouth surprise her?

  “No.” He glanced around his living room and quickly grabbed up his discarded shirt. One eyebrow arrowed upward with skepticism as his gaze settled on hers once more. “Do you think I need one?”

  She shook her head. “Just curious.”

  He looked at once dubious of her response and yet somewhat amused. “Would you like something to drink? Water?” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s bottled and chilled.”

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Okay.” He tossed his shirt off the chair. “So, let’s talk.”

  Serena took a seat in the closest chair while he plopped onto the sofa. Her mind was still reeling just a little with what they’d learned from Delia’s landlady.

  “I’ve thought about the idea that Delia was seeing Dr. Wright and there may be a logical explanation. Dr. Wright is a gynecologist as well as an obstetrician.”

  Todd didn’t comment on her conclusion. Instead he asked, “What was Mrs. Landon’s specific reason for changing doctors midstream, so to speak? That she didn’t like him seems a little unspecific.”

  Serena remembered how angry Molly had been after her second visit to Dr. Rice. She hadn’t liked him, she’d said. So she’d secretly switched to someone she preferred. “She said she didn’t like his bedside manner. She found him intimidating. She liked Wright better. I got the impression she’d seen him before. Maybe for routine exams.”

  “I considered that possibility,” he allowed.

  “But we have to be sure. Why don’t you call for an appointment? See if maybe you can be worked in this afternoon.” He shrugged. “Make up an emergency of some sort. PMS or something.”

  She rolled her eyes and started to explain the acronym to him but why waste the time. When he didn’t blink, she realized he was serious. “Me? Make an appointment with Dr. Wright?” How in the world would that provide any answers? “I’m certain you’re familiar with doctor-patient privilege. He’s not going to tell me anything about Molly or Delia.” Though she was Molly’s sister, no one could know that secret. She had to respect Molly’s wishes.

  “He won’t have to tell you anything.” He said this without so much as a flicker of uncertainty. “We’ll get all the information we need from her file.”

  Okay, he’d definitely lost it now. “What’re you talking about? They won’t let us see someone else’s file.”

  “When a patient is taken to an exam room,” he countered, “their file is always slipped into that little pocket on the door, right?” He propped one ankle on his knee. “When the doctor moves to the next patient he takes the file and a moment to review before greeting the patient. Have you ever seen it done any other way?”

  Serena threw up her hands. “Wait. I understand perfectly what you mean, but how is that going to help me get Delia’s or Molly’s file hung on my door?”

  “It won’t help us get Molly’s, but say you’re Delia Neely to ensure hers is handy.”

  A bark of laughter burst from her throat. “You’re kidding, right? I can’t say I’m Delia. Someone on staff may know her. We don’t look anything alike. She was blond and…and thinner than me.”

  “Look.” He sat forward and propped his elbows on his spread knees. “We can’t risk using Molly Landon’s name because of her high-profile case. We know Wright has seen her a number of times, not to mention her picture has been splashed all over the news. But we have a chance with Delia. She may have only been to Wright once or twice. According to her landlady, she disappeared months ago.”

  “She could be living somewhere else in Chicago,” Serena argued. This was the craziest idea she’d ever heard. He had to be out of his mind to even think she would do something like this.

  While she sat, staring agape at him, he fished out his cell phone and put in a call. To the Colby Agency, she supposed. He asked someone named Simon Ruhl to see if there was any current information available on a Delia Neely.

  When he’d slid his phone back into his pocket he said, “Make the appointment. We can always cancel it.”

  She didn’t like it, but if this move would help find Molly, she would try to be cooperative. A call to Information gave her the number she needed. Serena took a deep breath and entered it.

  When the receptionist answered, Serena did what she had to do. “Yes, my name is Delia Neely, and I’m a patient of Dr. Wright’s. I’m having some trouble…and I wondered if maybe I could be worked into his schedule this afternoon.”

  The silence on the other end of the line had perspiration dampening Serena’s palms. She’d never done this before. Not even as a belligerent teenager. What if the receptionist knew Delia and recognized that Serena’s voice wasn’t right?

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Neely, but this office is closing.” More of that awkward silence. “Perhaps you haven’t heard, but Dr. Wright was murdered last night. When you’ve found another obstetrician, we’ll be happy to forward your records.”

  The rest of what the woman said didn’t register. Serena thanked her, the response autonomic, and dropped the phone back into its cradle.

  Murdered.

  Todd stared at her expectantly, but she couldn’t pass along what she’d learned just yet.

  Chicago was a thriving metropolis; murder happened. She saw it on the news more often than she cared to admit…but this felt different. Deep down inside where nothing but instinct and intuition functioned, she understood that this was somehow relevant to Molly’s disappearan
ce.

  Maybe it was because Delia and Charles Landon had been lovers. Or maybe because Molly had hated Delia so. But the idea that Delia had left her home of several years so abruptly and the fact that Dr. Wright had been murdered couldn’t be mere coincidence.

  Serena didn’t believe in coincidences.

  “Dr. Wright is—”

  His cell phone interrupted her announcement. “Hold that thought,” he said.

  Serena sat, stunned, as Todd interacted with his caller in a series of one-word responses. Yeahs and uh-huhs. His facial expression didn’t give anything away. She wondered if Simon Ruhl had checked up on Delia’s whereabouts so quickly. She shouldn’t be surprised. The Colby Agency would know all the tricks of the trade. They were the best, she reminded herself.

  “Thanks.”

  She waited while he put his phone away, but considering what she’d just learned, her patience couldn’t hold out. “What did you find out?”

  “Delia Neely fell off the face of the earth six months ago. She didn’t pay her final phone and utility charges. Her bank account balance hasn’t changed. No charges since on her credit cards.” He flared his hands. “She just vanished.”

  Impossible. “She was fine. I mean, she came to work that last day…in November, I think it was, and she seemed fine. She just didn’t come back. Rumor was she called in and said she wouldn’t be back.”

  Serena pushed to her feet. What did all this mean? She rubbed at her forehead, tried to banish the ache that had started there. Was any of this related to Molly?

  The affair made it seem so, but was she grasping at straws again?

  “Is there any chance Delia Neely could be capable of kidnapping?”

  The question caught her up short. Serena faced him and started to insist that wasn’t possible, but was it?

  “I…” She let go a weary breath. “I don’t know. But if her bank account hasn’t been touched, how can she afford to just disappear? Or take someone else with her? And for what purpose?” The only answer that appeared plausible considering no ransom demand had been made caused Serena to shudder.

  “Could she have gotten some sort of payoff from Landon?”

  That was a question she couldn’t answer, couldn’t even speculate about. Landon had money. That much went without saying. But would he allow himself to be blackmailed? He didn’t seem like the type.

  “I don’t know.” As much as she hated to admit she had no idea, it was the truth.

  “Molly never said anything to you about Delia?”

  He stood, watching her, analyzing her expression and body language. He knew she was holding certain things back, but she couldn’t share any of that with him. He couldn’t know that part…it was irrelevant to Molly’s disappearance in any case. If she thought for one second that telling him would help Molly, she wouldn’t hesitate.

  “Never. She acted as if the affair never happened.”

  He didn’t like that answer. “You didn’t find that odd?”

  Serena shrugged. “Maybe. She was very sensitive about her relationship with her husband. I suppose she could have been more upset than I knew. To be honest, the pregnancy seemed the only thing that mattered to her. The baby was all she talked about.” Serena’s chest ached at the idea that both Molly and the baby might be lost. She couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.

  He braced his hands on his hips and paced the room. “The coincidence that they’re both missing and that they both used the same doctor feels off. I can’t believe Landon would be stupid enough to pay Delia to off his wife. He’d have to know the police might discover the connection between him and Delia, considering the affair.” He frowned. “But then the cops didn’t look that hard, except he couldn’t have known they wouldn’t. Unless he has a friend on the force.” He rubbed his jaw. “Still, I think for now our best bet is to follow up with Wright.”

  “Dr. Wright is dead,” she blurted, that awful news reverberating in her mind. “The receptionist said he was murdered…last night.”

  That piercing blue gaze collided with hers. “Murdered?”

  She nodded, unable to trust her voice. What did all this mean? Surely Delia wouldn’t kill the doctor Molly had been seeing. That was crazy. The kind of stuff that happened in the movies or in novels. There were all kinds of other scenarios. Robbery, a relationship gone bad, professional competition. His death most likely had nothing to do with Molly or her disappearance. Or Delia, for that matter.

  Todd fished out his phone again and put through another call to the Colby Agency. Five minutes later he got a call back. Serena had started to pace. She’d wrung her hands until they were numb from being squeezed.

  When he ended the call, he gave her the details. “The cleaning crew found him in his car late last night. Two shots in the chest. No suspects yet. That’s all Chicago P.D. was willing to give at this point.”

  Serena suddenly felt cold. No suspects. She refused to believe that Wright’s murder was relevant to Molly’s case. As suspicious as she was about the idea that both Molly and Delia had been patients of his…this just couldn’t be related.

  “Look.”

  Startled by the sound of his voice, she gasped at finding him standing so close. She hadn’t realized he’d moved.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  She pressed a hand to her throat. “It’s okay. I guess I was just lost in my thoughts.”

  “I was going to suggest that if you don’t have to get back, maybe we can go over the details once more. You know, start at the beginning.”

  She’d already done that twice. She didn’t see the point, but maybe she was too close to the situation to be objective. “All right. I don’t have to be back today. We can take all the time we need.” She could scarcely believe Dr. Landon had been so lenient about allowing her to leave work. But then, this was about him as far as he knew. So, as usual, his motives were completely selfish.

  “Good. How about some coffee?”

  She nodded.

  “This way to my bistro.”

  With a hand at the small of her back, he ushered her to his tiny kitchen. He dragged out one of the chairs at the table for two and motioned for her to sit. She obliged, still feeling a little unsteady from all the unnerving news.

  Dr. Wright was dead.

  Delia was missing…or at least unaccounted for.

  Unable to focus her thoughts, she watched him scoop coffee grounds into the drip basket and then pour the water into the reservoir. When the smell of fresh coffee started to fill the room, he strode over to his desk and went through a couple of drawers.

  He peeled off his leather jacket and left it hanging from the first chair he passed. With a spiral notebook and pen in his hand, he sauntered over to the table. He dropped the notebook and pen there and headed back to the counter and the coffeepot.

  “Cream?”

  “Yes, please.”

  With two mugs of steaming coffee in hand, he settled into the chair across from her. “Okay.” He picked up the pen. “Let’s talk about Charles Landon.”

  Serena went through the facts. Distinguished career. The major investor at Milestone, which when she really thought about it had to be a sticking point with Arthur Miles, who was the CEO if not the primary investor. Financial woes a few years back had forced Miles to sell a good portion of his company stock, she told Todd. Since she hadn’t been around at the time she couldn’t actually say that the move had come with any measure of tension, but she could speculate to that end considering the competitiveness she saw between the two men on a daily basis.

  “And you never picked up on any rumors about his affairs, other than what you’ve already told me.”

  “No. Nothing except that there were several affairs, but I really didn’t hear much about those until Molly…” She cleared her throat and stared into her empty coffee cup. “When she disappeared rumors were rampant.” She met his gaze. “But Dr. Landon told the police about the affairs. I’m certain they questioned the
women involved since Landon was cleared of suspicion.”

  “Molly never spoke of his infidelities.”

  Serena hadn’t considered that fact strange until now. Had it simply been easier for her to pretend that the other women never happened?

  “No, not really. She made comments, but they were vague. The only way I knew for certain was through the rumors at work. But even my colleagues were tight-lipped about it. I didn’t even hear about Delia for ages. I don’t think I would have known what actually happened at all if Nolan hadn’t told me.”

  “The mail clerk?”

  She nodded. “He’s Arthur Miles’s nephew, and I guess he heard it through his uncle.” Now that she thought about it, most of the rumors she had heard had come from Nolan. Did that make the information unreliable? His opinion would be colored by the influence of his relative and financial sponsor.

  “The police haven’t dug up anything on Landon that casts him in a bad light,” Todd said. It wasn’t a question. He was apparently relaying what the Colby Agency had learned.

  “I can’t say that I’m surprised,” she admitted. “He’s a stickler for the rules.” Maybe that wasn’t entirely true. But she didn’t have any evidence to back up her suspicions.

  “But…?” Todd suggested.

  Good grief, he’d read her hesitation as if she’d said it out loud. “His patience has run thin more than once waiting for the private funding to move forward with his advanced stem cell research. I can’t help wondering if he has done something or promised to do something illegal and maybe Molly found out.” She heaved a disgusted breath. “That’s probably not the case. It was the only extreme motivation I could think of.”

  “Considering the controversy surrounding that kind of research, I can see why you might reason along those lines.”

  Was he patronizing her? It was so difficult to read him. “There has to be some explanation for her disappearance. An expectant mother just doesn’t walk away from her life for no reason.” She closed her eyes a moment and grappled with the emotions that abruptly rattled her before meeting his gaze once more. “I tell myself that Landon wouldn’t simply…” She moistened her lips and bit back the hurt. “That he wouldn’t just kill her, especially since she was pregnant with his child. I mean, I work with this man every day. I can’t believe he’s a killer…but there doesn’t appear to be any other explanation.”