by Robin Cook
“I don’t think so,” Ava said. She turned to Keyon. “You aren’t with the FBI, are you?”
“No, ma’am,” Keyon said politely.
“What the hell is going on?” Noah demanded.
“I’ll tell you what is going on,” Ava said in a sternly fake voice as evidenced by a simultaneous smile. She waved a finger at Noah as if he were a naughty child. “You have been causing all sorts of trouble and forcing me and a few other people to lose sleep. Thankfully, all that’s in the past.” Ava’s smile broadened. “We need to talk to clear up a few things.”
Noah suppressed a strong urge to indulge in serious sarcasm, but he held his tongue as everything that had happened to him over the previous week began to come back to him in a progressive rush, particularly the untimely murder of Roberta Hinkle. He rattled his restraint against the brass headboard. “Why am I handcuffed?”
“I don’t know,” Ava admitted. She turned to Keyon. “Why is he in handcuffs?”
“He wasn’t cooperative in Lubbock,” Keyon said evasively.
“Well, take them off!” Ava said.
“Are you sure, ma’am?” Keyon questioned. “George and I think he’s a flight risk, and we found him to be on the feisty side.”
“Take them off!” Ava repeated.
Keyon did as he was told, then stepped back to his former place, available if needed.
Noah sat up on the bed and rubbed his sore wrist. He was dizzy for a moment, but it cleared quickly. He felt reassured that the African American was taking orders from Ava.
“How do you feel?” Ava asked sympathetically. “I understand they gave you a bit more midazolam than I had suggested and then a few hours later repeated it.”
“You suggested?” Noah questioned angrily. “So you are behind all this!”
“Listen, my friend!” Ava said, becoming serious. “If it weren’t for my efforts, I’m not sure what shape you would be in, and you certainly wouldn’t be sitting here in my guest room. Let’s not be judgmental until you’ve heard the whole story. As I said, we need to talk.”
“Does he need to be in here?” Noah asked, nodding toward Keyon. The mere presence of the man had him on edge, whether he followed orders from Ava or not.
Ava shrugged. “Not as far as I am concerned.” She turned to Keyon. “Perhaps you could wait out in the hall.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Keyon said. A moment later he was gone.
“Happy?” Ava questioned.
“Hold the sarcasm!” Noah said. “How the hell did I get here?”
“After Keyon and George met you in Lubbock, they invited you on a private jet that had been chartered for them.”
“Invited!” Noah spat. “Ha. They dragged me out of a rental car whose window they busted. What the hell is going to happen to the rental? Jesus!”
“You’re incredible,” Ava said. “You’re really worried about a rental car?”
“I was the one who rented it,” Noah said. “The rental company has my driver’s license information.”
“Good God!” Ava said. “You’re so damn compulsive.” Without warning, she called out for Keyon, who was back into the room in a flash. From his expression, it was apparent he’d feared the worst.
“Keyon,” Ava said with exasperation, “what was done about Dr. Rothauser’s rental?”
“Hank Anderson took care of it,” Keyon said. “He arranged for an agent to go and get it and turn it in. The agent also took care of the insurance deductible.”
“Thank you, Keyon,” Ava said. “That will be all.”
“Right, ma’am,” Keyon said as he touched his forehead with his right hand in a form of salute.
“Satisfied?” Ava asked after turning back to Noah.
“Who is Hank Anderson?” Noah said.
“He is Keyon and George’s immediate boss,” Ava said.
“This is going in circles,” Noah complained. “Who exactly are Keyon Dexter and George whatever his name is?”
“George Marlowe,” Ava said. “You’ve seen him here. I call George my personal trainer. In actuality, he is a security person, but he’s into exercise as much as I am, so it seemed convenient to do it together.”
Noah nodded. In his mind’s eye, he suddenly associated the man he’d known as Ava’s personal trainer with the Caucasian who’d been following him and then as one of the men who had attacked him in Lubbock. On a few occasions when he’d caught a decent glimpse of the man’s face, he’d had the sense he recognized the man on some level.
“Keyon and George work for a security company called ABC Security,” Ava explained. “One of the conditions of my working for the Nutritional Supplement Council from day one has been to accept Keyon and George as my”—Ava groped for the right word—“minders or monitors, or, if you want to be totally pejorative, my babysitters. At first I rarely saw them, but that changed over the last year or so when things with my social media activities got out of hand.”
“What on earth does that mean?” Noah said. Although his mind was clearing, he still felt ungrounded as if in a dream state. “How did they help you with social media?” The idea seemed preposterous.
“There had been a few incidents of serious cyberstalking of my sockpuppets, particularly one called Teresa Puksar. Keyon and George had to take care of it before I was directly involved. Truthfully, I don’t know what they did, but they solved it and also any future problem by making sure I have proper encryption. And now that the Dr. Mason issue has died down and you are brought into the fold, I imagine I’ll see a lot less of them.”
“What do you mean when I am brought into the fold?” Noah said heatedly.
“That’s what we need to talk about,” Ava said. “But before we do, how do you feel, health-wise?”
“Reasonable, I guess,” Noah said, forcing himself to calm down. His emotions were all over the map. “I was dizzy when I first sat up, but that’s gone. The main problem is feeling totally out of it mentally.”
“Let me check your vital signs again,” Ava said. “You had quite a dose of midazolam. I’m surprised you don’t have more significant anterograde amnesia.” She used his right wrist to take his pulse. Then she used a blood-pressure gauge and a stethoscope that had been on the bedside table. Noah watched her as she concentrated, avoiding his line of vision as she wrapped the cuff around his upper arm, inflated it, and then gradually deflated it. A moment later, she was done. “Okay, your vitals are fine. Try to stand up and see how it goes.” She extended a hand, and holding on to Noah’s, she urged him to slide off the bed.
“Well?” Ava questioned once he was standing.
“I’m okay,” Noah said. He teetered a bit. “At least I’m not dizzy.”
“So far so good,” she said. “Would you like to use the bathroom? Your bladder must be about to burst.”
“Now that you mention it, I would,” Noah admitted. Until that moment it hadn’t occurred to him, but now that it was brought up, it seemed urgent.
In the bathroom with Ava waiting just outside, Noah’s mind was progressively moving into overdrive as he urinated. Although he remembered being knocked to the ground in the medical center parking lot, everything else was a blank, and it was disorienting not to have been aware of being transported all the way back to Boston and into Ava’s house. It was as if the Lubbock trip had been a dream. But there was one thing he was aware of for certain. Any suspicions he’d entertained about the NSC being ferociously protective of Ava were absolutely on the money. A private jet had been involved in getting him back to Boston, and he couldn’t even imagine what it might have cost.
“The reason I had you put in this bedroom is that it’s on the same floor as the study,” Ava said when Noah opened the door.
Holding on to the jamb to support himself, Noah stepped out of the bathroom.
“If you are up to it, we could go in there to talk,”
Ava continued. “You might find it more comfortable and familiar. There is also some food and drink that I brought up from the kitchen in case you are hungry. What do you say?”
There were so many thoughts going through Noah’s mind that he didn’t have the ability to object. He had no idea of what time it was although he’d noticed the windows were dark. Ava urged him forward. Out in the hallway he saw Keyon and George. Dutifully they got out of the way as Noah and Ava passed. Noah glanced at their faces, impressed with their nonchalance. It was apparent they were professionals. And he did recognize George as the reputed physical trainer.
Ava helped Noah seat himself in his usual chair. She put a plate of small cocktail-style sandwiches, water, and Diet Coke within reach. There was also a plate of potato chips.
“I could get you some wine,” Ava said, as she watched Noah take one of the sandwiches.
“This is fine,” Noah said. After he took a couple bites, he poured himself some Diet Coke over ice. He thought the caffeine might help organize his thoughts, and his mouth was dry. He had no interest in wine.
Keyon and George had quietly followed them into the room and were standing off to the side, leaning against a floor-to-ceiling bookcase. Both had their arms crossed over their chests with the same calm, cool, in-control attitude they’d exhibited in the hallway.
“Do these thugs have to hang around?” Noah questioned, purposefully loud enough for Keyon and George to hear.
“I suppose not,” Ava said. “But they are party to all the details of this affair, as they have been the principal investigators. If it makes you more comfortable, they can wait downstairs.”
“It would make me more comfortable,” Noah said without hesitation.
“Would you mind?” Ava called out to Keyon and George. “If you are worried about him being a flight risk, how about waiting down by the front door?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Keyon said. Without another word the two men filed out, and they could be heard tramping down the stairs.
“All right,” Ava said. She sat down in her usual chair. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Fine by me,” Noah snapped. “What the hell is going on?”
“Calm down,” Ava said. “Keep in mind all this rigmarole has been caused by you and no one else.”
Noah laughed mockingly. “I hardly think that’s the case,” he said. As his mind had continued to clear, his irritation had mounted; so did his fears. “Before we talk of anything else, I want to know if your NSC friends had anything to do with the murder in Lubbock that’s been haunting me.”
“I don’t know anything about any murder,” Ava said. “Whose murder?”
“I had hired a private investigator who I’d found on the Internet. Her name was Roberta Hinkle. The night after I’d hired her, she was killed in her own home, supposedly by the disgruntled lover of one of her clients. Her investigative specialty was domestic issues.”
“Why on earth did you hire a domestic-issue private investigator?” Ava asked.
“I didn’t know it was her specialty,” Noah said irritably. “Her website didn’t suggest it. I hired her to do a background check.”
“Was this background check on me?” Ava asked.
“Yes,” Noah said. It was time for the truth, and he expected her to instantly become indignant, but to his surprise she didn’t.
“I don’t know anything about any murder,” Ava repeated calmly, “but I can tell you this: A private investigator nosing around in my personal business at this particular point in time would have made my employers at NSC very nervous and unhappy, to say the very least.”
“Are you suggesting the NSC was involved?” Noah said. He was horrified at the implications, as it would mean he, too, was indirectly responsible for the woman’s death.
“Certainly not directly,” Ava said. “The NSC would never do anything illegal. But what ABC Security might do, that’s another question. Do you remember Blackwater, the security company that was active in Iraq during the Iraq War?”
“I think so,” Noah said. He had no idea where Ava was going.
“I believe ABC Security is a similar organization, but I don’t know for sure. What I do know is that this is a highly sensitive period of time for the NSC, and the last thing they would want is for my credibility to be questioned in any way. Currently, I am the key NSC lobbyist dealing with quite a few congressmen and senators who are on the fence about amending or repealing the Dietary Supplement Health Education Act of 1994.
“Remember that article that was coming out in The Annals of Internal Medicine that presented a large study that was critical of the nutritional-supplement industry? We talked about it in my kitchen.”
“I think so,” Noah said.
“It had a big impact and caused a sizable number of legislators to express reservations about DSHEA, and I’m the only person who has been able to get them to reverse course. Ergo, it is a super-critical time for the NSC to make sure the FDA stays out of the picture as far as any regulation of the industry is concerned. It’s the reason I’ve had to spend so much time in Washington. I’m the point person to do damage control.”
Noah stared at Ava as his drugged mind wrestled with what he was hearing and began to connect the dots, lending support to his worst fears. Maybe there was some hidden reason to question the depth or quality of Ava’s anesthesia training, which the NSC knew about and did not want to be exposed. It was also the reason he’d hired Roberta Hinkle.
As if reading Noah’s mind, Ava lifted her legs off her ottoman and moved herself forward to sit on it, bringing her closer to Noah. She leaned toward him and lowered her voice, presumably to keep the men on the floor below from hearing. “Before I tell you what I plan to tell you, I want to ask what the private investigator found that made you suddenly fly the hell off to Lubbock?”
Noah felt himself stiffen. They had reached a critical juncture, a crossroads, a moment of truth. Although he felt nervous about Keyon and George being in the house, emphasizing her home-court advantage, he thought it was time to fish or cut bait, whatever the consequences.
43
THURSDAY, AUGUST 17, 11:15 P.M.
Noah debated how to start. He girded himself for what was to come as he settled on presenting the information in the order he had learned it. “I had told Ms. Hinkle you had graduated from the Coronado High School in Lubbock in 2000, so she started there,” he said. “Unexpectedly, she found that there had not been an Ava London in the Coronado High School for the last fifty years.”
Noah paused, watching Ava and her reaction, which he’d expected would be a mixture of anger and defensiveness as she had been caught in a blatant lie. Instead, she just nodded as if she expected what Noah had said and took it in stride.
“The private investigator decided on her own to look for Ava London at high schools in the Lubbock area,” Noah said, watching Ava’s lack of response with continued disbelief. It seemed that she never ceased to surprise him. Here was yet another layer of the onion. He went on: “And after considerable searching Ms. Hinkle was successful. She found an Ava London who’d attended Brownfield High School in a small town of the same name about forty miles southeast of Lubbock.”
Ava nodded again. “Is that all?” she questioned, in response to Noah’s second pause.
“No, it’s not all,” Noah said. “Ava London was in the class of 2000, but she didn’t graduate. Ava London committed suicide on a Friday night, April fourteenth, 2000. It was almost a year to the day from her father’s suicide carried out with the same gun in the same room. After the event, it was thought that Ava London had been harassed on social media following her father’s death and urged and browbeaten to emulate her father. It seems as if it was an early case of cyberbullying.”
“She was a very capable private investigator,” Ava said with little or no emotion.
“Ms. Hinkle didn’t tell
me all those details,” Noah said. “I read several issues of the Brownfield Gazette that were published after the event. It was big news in Brownfield.”
“And I’m sure there must be more tidbits the private investigator discovered,” Ava said almost mockingly.
“There were,” Noah said. “She found out that there was a Gail Shafter in the same class as Ava London. I had told Ms. Hinkle that was your Facebook user name.”
“Very interesting,” Ava said with a semi-smile. “What else?”
“That’s it,” Noah said. “Ms. Hinkle was planning on moving her investigation to the Brazos University Medical Center yesterday, but before she could do so, she was murdered in her home. What worries and horrifies me is that it wasn’t a coincidence that it happened when it did.”
“I’m afraid I have to agree with you,” Ava said, suddenly becoming serious. “The timing is just too coincidental.”
Noah shuddered and stared at Ava. Here was yet another surprise. To his utter dismay, she was agreeing with his worst fears that he had played an indirect role in Roberta Hinkle’s death. “Who are you?” Noah asked existentially.
“I’m Ava London,” Ava said without a moment’s hesitation, regaining her aplomb. “I have so completely become Ava London that occasionally I forget that I wasn’t always she. As an example, I often truly believe my father committed suicide. It’s like what you were suggesting one night when we were talking about how people on social media can get confused with what is true and what they have made up to make their lives look and sound better.”
“What about Ava London committing suicide?” Noah asked. “How does that fit in?” He was having trouble understanding how the Ava he knew could be so insouciant about the history she was cavalierly revealing, especially if she had played a role in the online harrassment.
“Obviously, I changed the narrative in that regard,” Ava said. “I can imagine you find all this shocking, but understand I had always been jealous of Ava London and had always wanted to be her. Her death was what made it possible, and my need for a new identity was the stimulus. And it was easy. We looked a lot alike, although she was prettier. All it took was a quick nose job, which I always wanted to do anyway, hair color change, and a few forms to be filled out at Lubbock County Courthouse to make it legal.”