by Dana Killion
The young woman nodded. “Right away ma’am.”
Candiss opened her mouth to say something to me, then thought better of it after noticing the phone in my hand. Instead, she turned heading toward her husbands office while the receptionist got to work.
I made a quick exit, phoning Brynn on my way downstairs. I dictated the basics of the arrest as I jumped in a cab directing him to police headquarters. Then I called Cai.
“Nadell’s been arrested,” I said. “Did you hear me? Your client has been arrested.”
“Not my client,” she replied. “If he were, I don’t think I’d be answering your call right now. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time this morning. You should be calling Turow for a comment.”
“Did you know they were going to charge him?”
“Andrea, I’m not his attorney.”
“But you’re the tort queen. Why reckless endangerment against an individual versus negligence or a product liability charge against the company? From a legal strategy I mean? This says he knew and did nothing, or that he took direct personal action. Aren’t you curious? Is Seth going to be charged?”
“Can’t talk to you honey, not about this. You know that. Try your boyfriend.”
“Ouch, that was a little bit mean.”
“You can take it. So, is pumping me for info the only reason you called?”
“For now… Talk to you later.”
I sent Olivia a text letting her know Nadell had been arrested. The news would make her day if not her lifetime.
Only one truck was parked on the street in front of the building. Good, I’d beaten the crowd. Inside, I saw the Channel 5 crew prepping their equipment. The reporter was engrossed in her phone. As I walked past them, two other crews entered the building. Damn.
I saw Michael crossing the corridor with a cup of coffee and made a beeline toward him. Hopefully I could get in a few questions before the rest of the contingent knew what was going on. He stopped when he saw me approach, but looked nervously at the journalists setting up behind me.
“Why are you charging Nadell?” I asked.
He brought his coffee up to his lips. “Do you ever let up?” he said.
His eyes were a mix of apprehension and sadness, as if he wanted to say something, as if he were asking a different question. Part of me wanted to hear what he’d been thinking about since our last conversation, part of me wanted to block it out. The push-pull hadn’t stopped.
“Hey, you told me I’d get first shot when you had something. Hauling Nadell out of his office in handcuffs seems like a development to me.” I took the easier path.
Whipping out my phone I hit the recording app. “Do you care to comment on the charges that have been filed against Aaron Nadell?”
He looked down at the floor for what seemed like an eternity. When he looked up, only sadness was left in his eyes. Before he could respond, other reporters saw that I had Michael cornered. They scurried over with cameras and microphones at the ready. Michael stared at me and clenched his jaw.
The rapid-fire questions flew at him. He let out a breath and addressed the group.
“We’re speaking with Aaron Nadell in connection with the situation at VTF Industries,” he said.
“Are you telling me that when I saw you lead Mr. Nadell out of his office in handcuffs, you simply wanted to ask him a few questions?” I shot back.
Michael kept his calm but didn’t elaborate. Interesting tactic. Why was Michael evading? Can’t arrest a guy without a warrant. Sounded like Nadell’s attorney was trying to alter appearances. The other reporters picked up on the thread and started throwing out questions of their own.
“Why was Nadell in handcuffs?”
“What did you ask him about?”
“What are the charges?”
The reporters were relentless, but Michael wasn’t playing the game.
“Sorry folks, we had a few questions for Mr. Nadell, which he has answered,” he said smiling. “If we have new information, we’ll let you know.”
Michael backed away signaling an end. Nothing more to report. Bullshit. The pace and volume of the questions only grew more urgent as Michael tried to leave. A commotion behind us caused me to turn. Aaron Nadell and his attorney marched angrily toward the exit. He made bail already? That was some quick lawyering. If they had intended to sneak out quietly, those plans were out the window as two additional news crews filed in.
I shot Michael a look. We stayed, eyes locked for a moment. He had a job to do, and I had mine. We’d both known that from the beginning. We’d also known it would get in the way. I turned and ran after Nadell.
Good try guys, I thought to myself, but Nadell was not going to be able to slip out unnoticed. A posse of journalists surrounded them. Hesitating for only a moment, the men stopped and whispered to each other. Turow stepped forward doing what good attorneys do in the situation, he took charge.
I swung around to a spot between two new cameras where I could get a clear line of sight and started a new recording.
“My client is just as anxious as you all are to move past the unfortunate incidents at VTF. As a show of good faith, he came in to police headquarters voluntarily to share everything he knows of the situation. He is cooperating fully with CPD’s investigation and we look forward to being able to assure the community of the safety of the product very soon. Mr. Nadell is heartbroken by the news of the unfortunate deaths and his heart goes out to the victims and their families.”
Yeah, right. Nadell was anxious all right. Anxious to pretend he had no connection to VTF. Nadell stood sullen behind his attorney, his hands clenching repeatedly as if ready to punch out the next person who challenged him. I had a feeling Turow was going to have his hands full keeping his client gagged.
Questions came fast and furious as reporters angled for one more morsel. I also imagined Nadell was wishing Seth were the one with microphones in his face. Whatever cooperation Nadell was or wasn’t giving, it hadn’t happened today. Turow had simply finagled bail creatively. Latitude was given to the wealthy. Turow wanted better timing so he and his client could talk before the justice system took charge. I had no doubt he’d be back in the morning for a deeper conversation with CPD.
I was also mulling over the choice of a reckless endangerment charge. That in itself was telling. What did CPD know?
“That’s all we have for now,” the attorney said, starting to usher his client through the crowd.
As reporters jostled and yelled questions at their back, a flash of movement on the left drew my attention. Olivia. She ran into the lobby, breathless, stopping when she saw Nadell. Her eyes were wide with anger and confusion. She swung her head from Nadell to his attorney, then to the group of reporters behind him. I rushed over around the back of the group trying to get to Olivia. I didn’t know what she’d planned, but instinct told me it wasn’t good.
“You’re letting him go?” She screamed in disbelief.
Nadell turned toward her, pausing for half a second, then continued his path toward the door as if she meant nothing. As I reached Olivia’s side, I laid a hand on her shoulder.
“Olivia, let’s go somewhere and talk. I’ll explain what’s happening.” She looked past me toward Nadell as if not seeing me, then brushed away my hand. Before I could stop her, she ran full out. In seconds she was on him, knocking him to the floor. Her arms pounded at his head while she screamed angry, unintelligible words.
39
Three officers ran toward the commotion as reporters gleefully took in the scene. Nadell’s attorney stood stunned shaking his head. Or maybe he was just afraid to get his suit dirty. Two of the officers grabbed Olivia by the arms and pulled her up, but her feet kept kicking at the man as she continued to yell obscenities. The third officer helped Nadell get to his feet, a bloody gash dripped on his forehead and he was rubbing his jaw where his head had landed on the tile floor.
Scott Price wasn’t going to be happy receiving another phone call from
me. I wondered if Olivia could afford to pay him. It seemed unlikely that she’d escape the need after drawing blood.
“She’s crazy, I bet she was the one who poisoned our drinks,” Nadell shouted.
The press was loving the outburst. They were like German Shepherds salivating because a steak was on the grill. I should have been part of the feeding frenzy, but I was too close to the situation. I forced myself into observation mode trying to be objective about the whole mess.
Could Olivia have acted in some way to take revenge? Would she have done something so dangerous? I wasn’t sure. Anger could force people into behavior they’d never recognize themselves as capable of. But what about Nadell? I had no problem imagining him as a penny-pinching S.O.B. unaware of the consequences. Janelle’s account of his history only confirmed that view.
Nadell and Turow were following the officer out of the lobby, most likely to determine if they intended to press charges while Michael pushed the reporters out of the space.
“Thank you folks. Nothing more to see.” As he moved out of their line of fire, he whispered to me, “Nice mess you’ve gotten yourself involved in.”
He left, walking into the bowels of CPD headquarters and I returned to my car, phoning Price and Brynn with updates as I walked.
Before I pulled out of the lot, I glanced at my phone; Lassiter had sent me a text confirming that Seth too had been suffering the effects of belladonna. So, I merged into the city traffic, maneuvering toward the hospital to check on both he and Lane. At the very least, I felt relieved that he was safe and being treated.
After two weeks of visits, the nursing staff simply waved as they saw me arrive.
“You have a little more color in your face today,” I said, seeing Lane alert and sitting up in bed when I entered her room. She was scrolling through something on her laptop, the TV playing in the background.
“I’d be better if someone would’ve brought me my makeup and a decent change of clothes.” She looked at me disapprovingly, wrapped in the pink terrycloth robe I’d brought from her apartment. Feisty. That was more like the Lane I knew.
“If you recall, you were too sick to care about whether you were wearing mascara,” I said. “You should feel grateful you have clean teeth. Anything beyond that is a luxury that can wait until you’re home in your own bed but I’m glad it’s starting to bother you.”
I sighed quietly, soothed by the normalcy, and surprised by how much I associated that spark with who she was.
“I’m damn sick of being in this room,” she grumbled. “If they don’t hurry up and let me out, I’m going to need you to run back to my apartment and at least get me yoga pants. I’m tired of my ass hanging out when I get out of this damn bed. The 90-year-old guy next door caught a flash of skin this morning and now I can’t get rid of him.”
“Better than seeing his ass.”
We both laughed. It was good to hear, not only the laughter, but the impatience. The drug was working. I never thought Lane’s attitude would actually make me happy.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked, throwing my coat on the door hook.
“Walking the floor. Said he needed to stretch his legs.”
“Did the doctor say you could go home tomorrow?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Every day it’s the same thing, maybe tomorrow.”
“I know it’s not as exciting as blush, but I did bring you a smoothie.” I handed her a pineapple concoction. She shrugged, probably wishing it was coffee, but took it in both hands and drank.
“Okay, you are a good sister.”
A familiar voice caught my ear, and I turned toward the television. “Turn that up,” I said. “The TV, turn up the volume.”
Candiss Nadell filled the screen.
“My husband, Aaron Nadell, was brought in for questioning earlier today in connection with contamination of products manufactured by VTF Industries, a company Nadell Industries has invested in. I’m certain that this misunderstanding will be cleared up shortly and that the true cause of the contamination will be identified.”
She was calm, poised, and spoke with authority. I admired her self-control in response to the pressure.
“We are cooperating fully with CPD and analyzing our vendors to identify any potential issues that might have occurred. While my husband is devoting his energy to resolving this issue, I’ll be taking over operations of Nadell Capital. I want to assure our customers that we have a strong team in place and we are prepared to move forward with this structure for as long as it takes to bring the issues at VTF to their conclusion.”
This was a speech for their investors. It was a smart move, but just a starting point. There would need to be transparency and plenty of mea culpas as the case progressed if Nadell Capital was going to come out of this.
“So, that’s Nadell’s wife?” Lane said. “I would’ve expected he him to be with someone less, I don’t know, prissy? But what do I know? I only met him once. Do you think she was involved with VTF as well?”
“I don’t think so, but they all seem to be liars so, maybe.” I shrugged. “Do you need anything thing else right now?” I asked, picking up my things.
“Vodka would be nice.”
“Funny. You’re lucky I bring you fruit drinks.” She flipped me the bird. Now I knew she was feeling better. “Give me a call later if you hear anything more from the doctor. If it’s going to be another day, I’ll make a run over to your apartment tonight.”
I gave her a hug goodbye then checked in at the nursing station to find Seth’s room.
He lay asleep in his bed, an IV dripping into his veins and various monitors flashing quietly beside him. A sheen of sweat glossed his forehead but a little color seemed to have returned. I stood next to his bed watching him sleep, wondering what had happened at VTF, wondering if he knew.
He woke with a jerk. Leaning over the side of the bed. “Pail,” he said. I shoved it under his head as he retched. I took the bucket, handed him a glass of water and some tissue. Then rinsed out the pail in the bathroom and waited.
“Welcome back to the land of the living. You gave us a scare.”
“This is living?” he said, downing more water. Then leaning back against the bed. “What the hell happened? Everything is fuzzy.”
I took a seat next to him and placed my hand on his. It was clammy and warm.
“You’ve been poisoning yourself,” I said gently. “Your drink, it contains a toxin called belladonna.”
“What are you talking about? We’ve been through this.” He took another swig of water, then wiped his mouth. Blinking hard a few times he adjusted his bed to more of an upright position and looked at me.
“Seth, I’m serious. The lab has confirmed it. You’re taking a drug to counteract the effects and that’s why you’re nauseous. I’m sure the hospital staff told you some of this earlier, you just don’t remember. It’s been a rough day.”
He stared at the wall with bloodshot eyes, blinking again, as if to clear his head. I could see him processing the news.
“Everything is still murky. They could have told me I had just given birth and it wouldn’t have registered.” He pinched the bridge of his nose trying to shake it off. “I don’t understand. We don’t use belladonna. How could that happen?” He seemed genuinely confused.
“I don’t know, Seth, but people have died, starting with Kelly. This is serious. And CPD will be in here asking questions as soon as they know you’re coherent.”
He reached for his water, again draining the cup. I took it from him, refilled it, and handed it back. After making a dent in the refill, he rubbed his hands over his eyes. Looking a little more awake, he responded.
“Andrea, you know me. You know I wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone, nor would I jeopardize my company. Help me figure this out.”
I hesitated, contemplating his request. I didn’t trust him any longer, but I certainly didn’t think he was a killer.
“Then how could belladonna have gotten into the drink
s? You know the process, the raw materials, surely you have some idea of how it might have happened.” I said, watching his face, his body language. I chose not to mention Olivia’s assertion that Nadell may have swapped ingredients. Better to see if the last six hours had given him a come-to-Jesus moment.
“The drink is a mix of performance enhancing botanicals—guarana, taurine, rhodiola, some B vitamins, caffeine of course—our secret, if there is one, is in the ratio and specific strains of the plants. Our suppliers have growing methods that enhance certain properties. It’s not inexpensive, but the results are a superior product and therefore, superior performance results. I would never compromise quality.”
Sloppy vendor management and vetting contradicted that claim. As did Cavanaugh’s assertion of being left out of the advance planning. Seth’s reference to the expense of higher quality botanicals however, did arouse my curiosity. It also overlapped with Olivia’s claims. Given how the day had played out, I hadn’t been able to understand the specifics of her allegation, but perhaps I could tease something out of Seth.
“How is Aaron Nadell involved in your business?” I asked, getting a surprised look in return.
“I didn’t know you knew about his involvement. He’s been funding me.”
Seth shifted in his seat, looking momentarily at the bucket. I moved it closer, but he waived away after the moment passed.
“We’ve tried to keep the investment under the radar. Aaron thought it would make his other clients uncomfortable. There are some losses in his past he’s trying to distance himself from and I’m risky compared to where he normally puts his money.”
“And what’s that relationship like?” There would be plenty of time for Seth to learn details of the formal investigation, for now I was wondering whether the two trusted each other.
“It’s tense at times,” he said. “Aaron and I disagree, usually about money, but that happens in these relationships. Profits vs. quality. That’s the dance. But production is under my control. His job is making sure we keep the red ink off the balance sheet.”