The door opened again before I could ask Manny anymore questions and the nurse stepped out, followed by Austen. For the first time since I met him, Austen looked relaxed, almost happy. "Good news," he said, smiling now. "I mentioned to Sophie's doctor that I thought I felt her fingers move when I held her hand last night and the nurse said she observed her toe moving today. She said she can't give any odds about recovery but it seems very positive."
"That's great!" I said. "Can they run any tests to provide more information?"
"I don't know. I guess they'll let me know later. Do you mind if we talk in Sophie's room? I'd like to stay with her in case she does wake up."
"Of course," I said.
"I'll wait with Manny," said Lily. "Unless I can fetch some drinks? Or snacks?"
Austen and Manny confirmed they were fine without either and Lily took the seat next to Manny while I followed Austen into the room. Sophie remained still on the bed although I thought it looked like her hospital-issue gown was changed and the pillows seemed fluffier.
"Do you have anything to report?" he asked as he resumed his position on the chair next to her. I handed him the card and he opened it, smiled, and put it on the table next to the bed.
"I spoke with Zach again."
"How did that go?"
I opened my mouth to launch into the same explanation I'd given Manny, but thought better of it. First, I needed answers to Zach's claims before Austen was distracted by his brother-in-law's shitty actions. I pulled out my phone and called up the photo of Zach, Sophie and the other woman. "Do you recognize the woman in the photo with Zach and your wife?" I asked.
Austen took the phone and stared at it. "I think that is, or was, his wife," he said. "Her name was Sophie too. Sophie doesn't talk about her much. Only to say that they weren't buddies."
"What happened to her? Did they split up?" I asked. I wondered ever since finding the marriage record.
"A car accident. I think she was drinking and spun off the road before smashing into a tree. The gas tank exploded, killing her instantly."
"That's terrible!" I wondered if it explained Zach's volatile personality. He was certainly explosive. Could it be he was still working through a personal trauma? As I thought about it, however, I knew plenty of people who suffered personal traumas and none of them ever pushed me off a platform high in the air. Some of them probably wanted to, but that was their problem. "What else can you tell me about them?" I added.
Austen glanced at Sophie. "I used to say I could only imagine how painful it was, but now I feel that I know exactly what it's like to lose the person you love most in the world."
"But you still have hope," I reminded him.
"I do," he agreed. "All is not lost yet. I'm sorry. You wanted to know more about Zach and his wife."
"Please."
"I'm trying to think but I can't come up with much. I asked Sophie, my Sophie, about her a couple of times and she said she wasn't really close to her sister-in-law and Zach didn't like talking about her. I think her death was part of the reason they moved. I think it happened only a couple of weeks before they left."
"A couple of weeks?" I frowned. That didn't seem like much time to go through a life-changing event and then move from the city, never mind the state.
Austen shrugged. "I guess they wanted to get away. A lot of people flee from tragedy. I was curious about the timing too and I admit I looked it up online. There was a small news article in their local newspaper about it. I don't really recall the details. I'm not even sure I can find the link."
"I'll look it up," I told him, making a mental note. "I wanted to ask you something else too. It's a little sensitive."
Austen glanced up. "You can ask me anything."
"It's about your secretary."
"Katrina?"
I nodded. "Zach suggested the two of you might have been more than professional."
"More than... Oh!" Austen gulped and blinked, surprised. Then he laughed. "Zach said Katrina and I were having an affair? That's absurd!"
I watched his face but saw no signs of guilt. Instead, Austen seemed confused. "Is it?"
"I've known her for more than twenty years. She's one of the best hires I ever made and I call her my friend too. Plus, Katrina is sixty-seven. Not to mention, she's married. Sophie and I attended her wedding."
"Marriage doesn't mean the same to everyone."
"I can assure you it does to Katrina. Plus, Zach might not know this, but Katrina is married to a woman. The very idea that she and I would be conducting an affair is ridiculous!" He shook his head, holding back a laugh. "Somehow I'm not surprised Zach would insinuate that, or even say it outright. He's a nasty character but I have to put up with him for Sophie's sake. He's the only family she's got, rotten or not." Austen pulled out his phone and tapped the digital screenpad. "I just sent you Katrina's details," he added. "And I've copied her in so she knows to expect your call. Ask her any question you want although I don't know if she'll be horrified or amused. I have absolutely nothing to hide."
There was a knock at the door and Manny stuck his head around. "My guy downstairs said Zach just arrived," he said, glancing at me.
"That's my cue to leave," I told them. I had no desire to wait around to run into Zach again. There were far too many plate glass windows he could push me through. "I'll be in touch soon," I told them.
Lily and I left via the staircase, rather than waiting at the elevator where we might bump into Zach, and we were halfway down. I filled her in on everything Austen told me, and Lily finally spoke. "To think you'd never have discovered any of this without me. This is what happens when the team gets back together!"
I grinned. "Absolutely! Although please never let me swing by my ankles again."
Lily paused and winced. "Okay," she said, "but I have to scrub some things off your birthday list."
Chapter Sixteen
Lily and I collected sandwiches and chips from a deli before she dropped me off at the agency. She promptly declared she didn't want to sit around while I punched my laptop keyboard. I didn't argue with her since that was exactly what I planned to do. I had a few things I still had to find out and Austen suggested some new ideas on where to start.
It took me thirty minutes to find the news article, after digging deep in the digital archives of the reporting newspaper, about Zach's wife. I printed it for the file I was accumulating, skimmed it, then reread it again, slowly, from the beginning.
The deceased Sophie Gallo died after her car spun out of control, according to an eyewitness. She was on a long, notorious stretch of road outside her small hometown. The report asserted she was an art history graduate, married for two years with no children. Her husband witnessed the accident because he was traveling behind her in his own vehicle with his sister. According to the report, she wasn't survived by any other family members, just her husband and sister-in-law. The reporter tracked down a friend, Annie, who was reported as saying, "Sophie was my best friend through high school and college. She was always a careful driver and I'm heartbroken to hear about the accident." The friend added, "Sophie was such a joy to be around and had everything to live for. She will be dearly missed". Zach didn't provide any comment. The article ended after a brief list of Sophie's accomplishments: a teaching assistant role at a college, a peer-reviewed academic paper on art that was very well received, and an award for raising a sizable amount of money for a high-school classmate who suffered an accident during their senior year.
I sat back and contemplated everything I read. It seemed so sad that a young woman with so much potential could lose her life at so young an age. Now, Zach's anger made more sense; perhaps he simply misdirected his grief and possibly suffered from PTSD after witnessing his wife’s horrific death. Then I thought back to the frigid coldness I glimpsed in his eyes when he pushed me, and I wasn't so sure.
One crucial factor stood out: someone potentially knew both Sophies and Zach. I had to track her down.
Unfortunately, that wasn't a
n easy task. Annie Woodley was a popular name combination and I had to whittle my way through the results until I found one that lived in the right area and was the right age. A fundamental godsend was provided by a social media photo that featured a high school pennant in the background that I could easily cross-reference with the deceased Sophie's school. Lacking a phone number to contact her, I sent her an instant message and included my cellphone number, asking her to call me urgently.
While I waited, I browsed the internet. I started looking at dresses I wondered if I should buy and recipes I would never make. I still appreciated the mouth-watering pictures of the finished products. While I idly scrolled through pages that fit well into my fantasy lifestyle, I thought about Austen and Sophie’s serendipitous meeting at the theater. What were the chances of two people having such luck? Then I thought about the first time I saw Solomon, moodily waiting in the small room I was ushered into. Who knew I would end up where I was now thanks to that encounter? I wondered if Austen ever reflected on it. Out of sheer nosiness, I logged onto the The Playhouse's website and scrolled through their news blog. When I found the entries regarding the annual fundraiser, I blinked. Tickets cost two thousand dollars each!
"Hey," said Solomon, walking in. He rounded my desk and looked down at me, crossing his arms. "I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you would be working from home."
"I spoke to Austen and Lily dropped me off here."
"I can give you a ride home now, if you want?" Concern gripped his face as he watched me silently.
I shook my head and smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. "I'm good for now. I'm just doing some research. Did you know tickets to fundraisers at The Playhouse cost two thousand dollars each?"
"Do you want tickets to an upcoming event?" asked Solomon.
"No, I was curious about the event where Austen met Sophie."
"Two thousand dollars is nothing for a man with Austen's bank balance."
"Sure, but what about Sophie? She couldn't afford that on a gift shop salary."
"Maybe someone gave it to her? Or she won it?"
"I guess. Quite a generous gift. Who would give someone a gift like that?"
"An employer?"
"Do you give your employees gifts like that?"
"No. I give bonuses for extra good work."
"Mmm. I like your bonuses," I said with a wink.
"I don't think you'd like me giving those kind of bonuses to your colleagues."
I pulled a face. "Good point. Stick to cash. If you had a low salary, would you save up for an occasion that expensive?"
"Perhaps. If it were something I truly valued that I thought was worth the money it cost. Mostly, I'd focus on paying my bills, food and the basic necessities. Have you asked Austen?"
"I don't want to trouble him again today. There's no one else I can consult. I can't ask Zach because he's too scary and I can't call her former colleagues without appearing suspicious."
"Check her financial records."
"I already did. I would have noticed a withdrawal or a purchase of that size. She didn't have that kind of money. Have you ever been to one of their fundraisers?" I asked.
"I like the theater but not enough to plunk down two thousand dollars for one ticket."
"I was wondering more what kind of people attend those sorts of things."
"Have you ever considered asking your sister?"
"Serena? No. Why?"
"She tends to orbit esthetical affairs. If it's a pricey ticket, she might know something."
"Good idea," I decided. Not only did Serena like aspirational events, but she was also a happy social climber. Her ex-husband was the same, who unfortunately, happily decided to climb into bed with someone else. Despite having to endure the tragedy of a broken marriage, Serena knew he'd done her a huge favor.
Solomon said he had to make some calls and after he walked into his office, I checked my watch and called Serena. "Hello," she said. "I've been meaning to ask you for your pasta recipe. It was surprisingly good."
"Thanks!" I frowned, wondering what she was talking about. Then I realized. She was referring to my last-minute deli dash.
"Almost tasted store-bought but of course, you wouldn't do that when the rest of the family made all their dishes from scratch."
"Of course not," I huffed as I rolled my eyes and mentally scrambled for a plausible lie. "I perfected the recipe over many hours of practice. Too bad it came from a printout I got on the internet and accidentally tossed into the trash."
"Oh. Never mind. Why are you calling?" she snipped.
"I can't call just to say hi to my sister?"
"Uh..." Serena paused and I imagined her mental cogs whirring. "That's sweet of you. I'm very busy. You could stop by for lunch this weekend."
"Thanks. Of course I know how busy you are and don't want to keep you," I said, smoothing my way into the question I wanted to ask. "I wondered if you knew anything about the annual fundraiser that’s held at The Playhouse?"
"Of course I do. I went to one with Ted years ago. We saw the show and they served an elegant dinner afterwards with a jazz band that featured the most sublime singer. Ted spent the whole night handing out his business cards and the next month playing golf with all the subsequent new contacts."
"So… they're like business networking things?"
"More like a gathering of Montgomery's 'movers and shakers'. They only have one fundraiser a year and everyone who's anyone vies for a ticket. Ted got ours because one of the senior partners at his firm couldn't make it after they bought a whole table. Why? Do you have a case involving the next one? I could help you navigate your way through it. You'll need a new dress to start."
"By movers and shakers, you mean...?"
"Rich people, Lexi. I'm surprised Solomon hasn't taken you there yet. I'm sure some of the attendees are theater fans but a lot of business deals get signed there. Contacts are made. Being seen with the right crowd is free PR, if you know what I mean."
"I do."
"The bidding is blind so that's easy too. I'm sure people write down any old number even if they don't want the item on offer just to look more generous, but at least it results in a big wad of cash for the theater."
"Bidding?"
"To win the donated prizes. The year Ted and I went there, one of the prizes was a week in Napa, another was season tickets for the Red Sox, another was dinner and a night at The Marchmont Hotel, and a portrait painting and a whole bunch of other expensive things. Ted bid on the Red Sox tickets."
"Did he win?"
"Of course not. The winning bid was crazy. Ted just wanted to look fancy to his colleagues. The whole idea is to splash the cash very blatantly even if no one directly comments on it."
I scribbled the information on my notepad. "Thanks for your help. I appreciate it," I told her.
"Oh, well, yes, of course. And you might suggest that Solomon buy a table. Antonio will look great in a tux and I'll be happy to help you get through it so you don't look like Philistines."
"That’s so kind of you," I said dryly. After thanking her again, I disconnected.
A heavy feeling lodged in the pit of my stomach. The fundraiser was the place where people made deals. What if Sophie went there to make a "deal" with Austen? Was she deliberately putting herself in his sights? A pretty woman posing as someone interested in the same things he was? That could pay huge dividends from the investment of the ticket’s original purchase. It was such a horrible, cynical way to look at it. Even worse, it played into Austen's theory that Sophie wasn't the woman she said she was. I didn't want to confirm his suspicion but would if I had to. Was she a gold digger who figured out a way to siphon cash from a rich husband? Maybe, but didn't I have an obligation to the unconscious woman that was brutally attacked to give her the full benefit of my doubts? Her friends at the museum mentioned her passion for theater, so perhaps it wasn't entirely a lie. I couldn't question her until she could defend herself. All I had so far was
an uncomfortable feeling that something wasn't quite right in Sophie Takahashi's life. I needed some proof. I had to be absolutely sure.
I checked my inbox again but found no message from Annie Woodley. Another thought struck me. I was still waiting on Maddox to tell me about the cash stash in the Takahashis' home. I called him, hoping he would have some fresh answers for me. When he didn't pick up, I left a message to phone me about any news.
While I waited, another bright idea crossed my mind and I decided to call The Playhouse. A man with a very low voice answered. I told him I was interested in purchasing tickets for the annual gala.
"We haven't begun selling those tickets yet, ma'am," he said. "I can add you to the 'interested parties' list if you like?"
"If you could just provide me with some information for now, that would be great," I told him, lacking any desire to be added to yet another mailing list. "My friends, Austen and Sophie highly recommended it. They actually met at the gala. Isn't that lovely?"
"Very," said the man, audibly uninterested.
"Perhaps you know them?" I continued. "Austen Takahashi? I imagine he must be a patron?"
"The name sounds familiar but I can't divulge the identities of our current or past patrons. A public list is posted on our website where you will also find the dates, time and the particular play they plan to debut for the next gala."
"And can I buy the tickets through that website too?"
"Yes and no. Our corporate manager handles all the ticket sales for tables, which we reserve for our esteemed business guests. Our priority list ensures patrons have an opportunity of at least twenty-four hours prior to the general sales. In addition to that, there is the competition we offer in the Montgomery Gazette for a free pair of tickets."
"Is the competition held every year?" I asked, making a note. "And is it free to enter?"
The man sighed as if my questions were irritating him. "Yes, every year. I think the contestants have to write a short essay about a personal experience they've had involving the theater."
"You mean, as an actor?" I asked, more confused now.
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