We spent the next ninety minutes at his conference table, rehashing the last two weeks. The detectives fired questions at us, and we answered the best we could.
Who would want to kill Dr. Francis?
We had no idea.
Why did he suddenly leave his job at Global Devices?
We had no idea.
How well did Mr. Connaught know Dr. Francis?
Again, no idea. I told them they should talk with Dr. Bill Pritchard. Get his take on things. Shipley nodded.
I gave them Sara Williston’s phone number. One of them mentioned that they’d work on a search warrant to access the safety deposit box shared by Tommy and Dr. Francis.
Were we aware of any relationship between Ben Tucker and Natalie Scott?
None, other than their reporting relationship at work and the fact that they had worked together at the hospital in Flagstaff.
Shipley riled me a little with some of her questions. Like were the lawyers any further along in figuring out the value of the deceased’s estate? Before I could answer that she rephrased the question and wanted to know just how much I was inheriting. And before I could answer that, she looked at the other detectives with a smug, knowing look. I didn’t bother to answer her because she was clearly giving me a dig and besides, Cleve shot me a look across the table, which said keep your mouth shut.
I wanted to counter with some questions of my own. Like what the hell had they been doing the last two weeks to get to the bottom of this? What had Shipley done with the information that Kelly and I shared with her on Friday? Sweet fuck all would be the answer I was going to get. The only reason we were getting anywhere at this point, late on a Sunday night was because the Commissioner had called this meeting. I was pissed, but I was tired too, so I kept the bitchiness in check.
Had the FDA been informed of the reasons for the contract cancellation by Global? This was from one of the detectives whose name I forgot, but it was a good question.
What was the latest report from Flagstaff? Was there any news on our missing investigator?
We wrapped up with handshakes all around and fake smiles on my behalf. I didn’t think for a minute that my smile fooled anyone but the detectives and their boss were civil with us, promising to keep us informed.
chapter fifty-four
My eyes locked on the object and my body went rigid. I was breathing yes, but not moving. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity, staring at it, trying to get my heart pumping at the hysterical rate rather than the panicked rate. My eyes shot around the bedroom. The digital clock read 11:27. The door to the ensuite bathroom was ajar and some light was filtering out. Did I leave the light on in the bathroom?
The corners of the large room were dark and my heart rate shot back up to hysterical as I willed my eyes to adjust to see if there was anything, anybody in the shadows. Just like a kid playing the game of statues, my body was frozen in a ridiculous pose.
As I usually did when I came in the bedroom, I walked to the side of the bed where I slept and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. Light illuminated the top half of the massive, king size bed. In the split second that I was thinking about sinking into the crisp sheets and pulling the duvet over me, I spied the white envelope sitting squarely in the middle of my pillow.
I let my eyes focus on the envelope and I whimpered just little when I saw that it was addressed to BITCH.
Not entirely convinced that I was alone, I nonetheless made myself, no correct that, willed myself to leave the room. Hyperaware now, just like Frank Sanchez had drilled into me. My peripheral vision kicked in, my back straightened up and my fists clenched. The envelope lay untouched on the pillow and as I backed out of the bedroom into the hall, I knew that the pillow was going in the garbage and I would never let it touch me again.
When I came out of the hallway into the main area of the apartment, I was relieved to see my ever-present bodyguard, Chris, sitting at the dining room table reading a newspaper. He must have known by the look on my face that something was wrong because he was quickly out of his chair, coming around the table towards me with a gun in his hand. I stupidly wondered where the gun came from and at the same time told him that there was something on my bed. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me into the foyer of the apartment where we both stood against the wall while he made some calls on his cell phone.
While I stood rigidly in the foyer, unable to relax my body, my brain was running wild. Someone had been in the apartment while we were at the Police Commissioner’s office. How had they got in? Besides putting what looked like a harmless envelope on my bed, what else had they done? Were they still in the apartment? When was this all going to end?
An eternity later the intercom on the wall chimed and Kelly and the cavalry arrived. The cavalry were really the two other bodyguards whom I had met over the past couple of days. They and Kelly fanned out in the apartment, with their guns out and up, clasped in both hands, just like the cops in the TV shows. Chris stayed with me in the foyer. When we got the all clear, I felt my body relax a bit, but the adrenaline was still pumping. My brain was screaming for a cigarette and my heart was aching for Jay.
I ignored the nicotine need and pow-wowed with Kelly, Chris and the cavalry in the kitchen.
I could tell Kelly was livid. “I’m sorry this happened, ma’am,” he told me through clenched teeth. He shot a look at Chris and then pointed to the reason why we were all standing around the round table in the kitchen. The offensive object was now inside a plastic bag and I let my eyes rest on it for a moment.
“The apartment was breached. How, we’re not sure at this point, but we will find out. As of now, you’ll have three men in the apartment with you at all times. We think it’s easier to protect you here than in a hotel or another place.”
I nodded, suddenly very tired. I thrust my chin towards the envelope. “Are we going to see what the note inside says?”
“Later. Right now it’s evidence.”
Satisfied with the telephone call, the stalker smiled and gently placed the handset on the telephone base, ending the long distance call to Flagstaff. The long reach of Tom Connaught’s bitch and her ‘soldiers’ was effectively cut off. Not caring to know the name of the person sent by the bitch, the stalker had abruptly interrupted the caller. Just tell me there is no link from us to him.
My sleep was interrupted by an urgent hand, shaking my shoulder.
“Ma’am.”
“Yunh.” I mumbled something and willed my brain to wake up from a deep sleep. I was under some blankets on one of the couches in the living room, where I had fallen asleep in the early morning hours.
I struggled to sit up, totally disoriented because it was still dark with only a little light coming from the lamp on the side table. Kelly was crouched down in front of the couch, waiting for my eyes to focus. I ran my hands through my hair, and then rubbed them over my face.
“What time is it?” I whispered.
“Three thirty. I’m sorry to wake you but we’ve got a situation.”
I took a deep breath, not sure if I was ready for more bad news. With my feet on the floor and the blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I looked at Kelly sitting on his heels in front of me. Looked in his eyes and couldn’t stand what I saw there. My stomach flipped and my brain willed it to stay still. Stay strong. Stay tough. Strong and tough - two of my personality traits that had been seeping out of me with each passing hour, dealing with this shit-mess.
“I’m awake. What’s going on?”
“They’ve found our guy in Flagstaff.”
Jerry. The man who had a mom and dad waiting for him. The man who was working for us. Oh my God. I nodded my head, silently telling Kelly to go on.
“There’s a fire right now in the administration offices at the hospital in Flagstaff. It’s the middle of the night out there, so thank God no staff were there. But they found a man’s body. Unconscious, suffering from smoke inhalation they think.”
I put my h
and on Kelly’s shoulder, which felt like a piece of granite. “Is he going to be okay?”
“We hope.” He placed his hands on his knees and stood up. All business now. “My other guys out there will call again soon with an update report.” He reached over to turn off the lamp and I stopped him.
“Leave it on. I’m getting up.” If Kelly and his guys could work around the clock for me and for our company, I could too. As helpless as I felt at this moment, I was sure I could at least make some coffee.
“I’m coming back on the next plane,” Jay said when I finished describing what had happened in the twenty-four hours since he had gone back to Toronto.
“No,” I told him. My voice was hoarse from lack of sleep and too many cigarettes. “It’s alright. As much as I miss you and want to see you, you need to stay there. For your job. It’s important.”
There was a long silence and I wondered if Jay was thinking about my close call a few months ago, when that madman had shot at me, point blank.
“It’s okay, really Jay. Kelly and his gang of guys are here. I promise I won’t do anything to put myself out there. Kelly wouldn’t let me anyway.”
“I just can’t understand what all of this is about. Who’s doing this? And I can’t believe that Dr. Francis is dead. I never met the man but I felt like I knew him just a little bit.”
I agreed with Jay and we talked about that for a little while longer, theorizing but getting nowhere. We promised to call each other again, later that day.
It was early Monday morning and I was at my desk, at the Phoenix offices. A different bodyguard, Michael, was at my beck and call, sitting in the outside office in a guest chair beside Carrie’s desk. It was awkward all around but I was appreciative of his presence.
I started off the day meeting with Sandra Melnick and going through the piles of files that she had left me on Friday. I swear to God that I tried to pay attention because this was important stuff for our company. But my mind kept wandering. Wondering about Jerry’s parents, worried about their son. A son who had survived military service but was now unconscious, in a hospital. Left for dead because of some private investigating work on behalf of a company they had never heard of, never had anything to do with. From there my thoughts segued to Dr. Jordan Francis’ family. Who were they? They would be reconciling the death of their son, their brother, their uncle. I couldn’t recall a time when my heart hurt as much as it did right now. My nose started to sting, signaling the start of tears, so I sniffed hard and brought my attention back to what Sandra was telling me.
Cleve came through the office door as soon as Sandra left and he joined me at the work table. A large carafe of coffee sat in the middle of the table, with cream and sugar, china mugs, and silver spoons on a large tray. Cleve poured himself a mug before he sat down across from me. I was smoking but put the cigarette out in an overflowing ashtray.
“I just spoke with Kelly,” he told me. “He brought me up to speed on what’s happening in Flagstaff. In addition to the smoke inhalation, the doctors report that Mr. Rigley has some severe lacerations on his head. He was most likely knocked out and left to die. The fire chief has confirmed that the fire was deliberately set. Thankfully, there was more smoke damage than anything else.”
We both sat quietly, lost in our thoughts. There wasn’t much to say except the obvious. Cleve appeared to be as weary as I was so I poured both of us another coffee. I was wired with caffeine and adrenaline and it was only ten in the morning.
chapter fifty-five
The caffeine load combined with lack of sleep made me feel like a cat on a hot tin roof. I couldn’t concentrate on any of the work staring at me from the overloaded in-basket on my desk. I had paced out my office and if my mother were here she’d be asking me if I had ants in my pants. Bothered and bitchy best described how I was feeling. And caged in. So I decided to take a walk down to the R and D floor. Have a look at Ben Tucker’s place of work. Michael jumped up from his chair when I opened the door to my office.
“I’m going down to R and D,” I told Carrie and the bodyguard. Michael discreetly followed along behind me, down the hallway and the inner staircase. When I came out through the fire door on the floor, I stood for a moment, getting my bearings. Off to the far right was Nat Scott’s former office, and on the left of the floor were the glass brick enclosed offices, where Kelly and his security team were housed. I headed towards Nat Scott’s area and was happy to see my new best friend Jenn Ludlow at her desk, surrounded with piles of paper and file folders. Her face was intent with concentration and she was humming along to music pulsing through her earphones.
She beamed me one of her gorgeous smiles when she noticed me standing in front of her desk. She pulled out her earphones and stood up.
“Hey Kate. What’s shaking?” She peered around me and looked at Michael and then back at me. “Who’s your shadow?” she asked with a sly smile.
I introduced them. “Jenn this is Michael. Michael, Jenn.” Jenn came out from behind her desk and held out her hand like she was the Pope, expecting him to kiss her ring. She dipped her head slightly and the large swath of hair over the right side of her face swished sexily, revealing both of her eyes. Clearly smitten, Michael was unable to speak. His eighteen inch neck turned bright pink and he let Jenn’s hand rest in the palm of his. I was witnessing love - or lust - at first sight. I cleared my throat trying to interrupt them as they stared at each other, mesmerized.
“Jenn,” I finally said, after about ten seconds.
“Yep.” She broke the eye lock and turned her head towards me.
“Where is Ben Tucker’s office?”
She pointed and said, “Four workstations that a way. But I don’t think he’s here. Haven’t seen him today.”
“Thanks Jenn. I’ll go over anyway.”
I counted off four workstations in the direction that she had indicated and found what was definitely Ben’s place. His was a wheelchair accessible workstation, with a lower than normal work surface and no desk chair. The workstation was neat and organized and everything was in its place, on low shelves, reachable by someone confined to their wheelchair. There was no sign of Ben. But did I really expect to find him sitting at his desk, working away? It took me a minute to realize that there was no computer on the desk.
Michael dutifully trailed behind me as I abruptly left the workstation and headed across the large floor to Kelly’s office, where he was standing in the doorway, clearly waiting for me. He nodded at Michael and wordlessly used his head to point at the office next door, directing him there. Kelly ushered me into his office and quietly closed the door.
I didn’t sit down because the caffeine continued to course through my system and the ants in my pants were still there. Kelly stood in front of his closed door and I faced him, with my hands clasped in front of me.
Kelly spoke first.
“How’re you holding up?”
“Good,” I lied.
Then I sucked in a deep breath and felt my body shudder, just a little. Signs of adrenaline leaving my system. “How about you Kelly? You’re running on less sleep than me.”
“I’m used to it. I only need a couple of hours each night.”
“I was just over at Ben Tucker’s desk.”
“Yeah, I know. Michael’s keeping me informed.”
“There’s no computer at his desk.”
“Yep. We know that too. He has a laptop like most of the R and D staff. He must have it with him. We’re checking his accounts on the network, his email account, things like that. Shipley called saying they wanted to search his workstation area, I told her that would be fine with us. They’ll be over here soon.”
“Can they at least be discreet about it? Can we pack everything up and give it to them? I don’t want to upset the employees any more than we have to.”
Kelly nodded his head. “I’ll see what we can do.” He walked over behind his desk, sat down and took a piece of paper out of a file folder. He slid it across the des
k towards me. “The contents of the note,” he offered.
I continued to stand near the door, admittedly a little reluctant to read it, acknowledge it or touch it, even though I knew it wasn’t the original.
“I am in control. I hold your fate in my hands. You have no power over me. You have no power period. Lay your head on this pillow and sleep soundly.”
By lunchtime I was exhausted, frustrated and close to tears. Exhausted because the caffeine was no longer doing its job. Frustrated because there didn’t appear to be anything worthwhile I could do to help Kelly or the police bring an end to this shit-storm. And close to tears because I was exhausted and frustrated. So I decided to do something totally out of character. Exercise. Admittedly the idea was not mine. Frank Sanchez apparently called the office after talking to Jay who informed him of the events of the last couple of days and how the bodyguard contingent was rising exponentially. Frank called Carrie who obligingly cleared my calendar.
The tears finally overflowed as I was telling Frank about finding the envelope on my bed. I was able to do the telling without any accompanying sobs but the tears poured. Frank was a saint. He didn’t do any of the patronizing there-there it’ll be okay shit typical of men who don’t know how to deal with a woman in tears. When I was done he artfully took my story and turned it into a lesson in personal security awareness. Then we worked out for over an hour and when we were done I had a new understanding of the meaning of exhausted.
Keeping one’s pulse under control was extremely difficult. But extremely difficult did not mean impossible. Conquering adversity made you stronger. More powerful. Omnipotent. Because there was no challenge that could not be overcome. Oxygen-laced, deep breaths calmed the pulse and focused the mind. The hardest challenge was about to be surmounted. The bitch was about to be conquered.
When Frank called an end to the drills, I thanked him and collapsed on one of the benches up against the wall of the Dojo. With my elbows on my knees, I worked at getting my breathing back in order and watched my sweat drip on the floor. The exhaustion gave me a feeling of powerfulness, as crazy as that sounded to me. I felt powerful and strong even though my knees were weak and my arms were trembling. They say that knowledge is power, and knowing that I had worked out and trained when I was beyond exhausted made me proud of myself. I grinned inwardly and gave myself a mental pat on the back.
Monahan 02 Artificial Intentions Page 30