Althea laughed. “Speaking of murdering people, Aggie,” she said, “that’s two men you’ve killed now.”
Agnes glared at Althea. “I have no regrets about Gilmore. He was a bigger fool than Dothan. I wanted this boy away from January, and judging from the way you look, for good reason. Your sick girlfriend can’t control her temper. How long before he went through the same thing?”
“January had every right to be furious with me. I’ve done some stupid things since we’ve been together. After the accident at that restaurant, though, I would have taken any punishment. God knows I could never have cut her on purpose. She spent a fortune making sure there wasn’t one blemish on her entire body. Now, because of me, she’ll have that scar for the rest of her life. I deserved all this and more.”
“Whoa!” said Dothan. “Wait a minute. You were the hoodie guy with the knife?”
Althea nodded.
“But, why?”
“Why do you think? You had an extraordinary piece of software, and January wanted it. She trashed your place trying to find it, and then you still wouldn’t tell her anything. She figured if she came up with a way to save your life, you’d offer it to her, and you did.”
“What crap. You didn’t see the terror on her face after that break-in, and she didn’t know the purpose of the code or how it functioned until a few days ago.”
“Oh,” she said, grinning at Agnes. “You don’t know about that either? God, for such a smart kid, you’re a real dope. Maybe you should talk to your friend here about that.”
“I told Althea.” Agnes sighed. “I hoped by dangling a priceless piece of software in front of her, she’d convince her buddies to tell me the truth about Reuben.”
Dothan stared at Agnes. “Why? They might have killed me as soon as they found it.”
“Because you betrayed me. You had no reason to worry, though, even if they had found the software, they still needed you as the suicide responsible for Joseph’s murder. You were safe enough until tonight.”
“Great,” he said. “That makes me feel better.”
“Enough of this,” said Agnes. “The police are on their way. Dothan, I explained to the 911 operator that you’re the victim in this, but there’s every chance we’ll both be suspects in Joseph’s murder. So, we need to discuss the elephant in the room, or not in the room as it seems. Are you certain January was here, or was that just the drugs?”
“I don’t know anymore,” he said, covering his face.
Althea twisted in her restraints, agitated. “Listen, you bitch,” she said, “if you say one word about January to the police, I’ll tell them you and that stupid boy killed Joseph. His fingerprints are all over that gun.”
Agnes crouched behind Althea and removed the restrained woman’s latex gloves, slipping them onto her own hands. With great care, she retrieved the pistol and wiped the outside with the edge of her shirt. After flipping on the safety, she grabbed Althea’s right hand and forced her fingers around the gun and trigger. Flicking the safety off, Agnes placed the weapon next to Joseph Harrington’s body.
Without a word, she removed the gloves and carried them to a nearby powder room. A toilet flushed, and she reappeared with a smile, wiping her hands on a towel.
“You must be mistaken, Althea,” she said. “Dothan’s fingerprints aren’t on the gun, but they’ll find yours. Oh, and I destroyed that silly suicide thing you wrote for Dothan. January should have known better than to write such a polite note. Since when does that boy speak even one sentence without a cuss word?”
Agnes stood in front of Althea and crossed her arms.
“Mrs. Harrington,” she said. “I’m willing to make a deal with you.”
“A deal?” asked Althea. “What could you have that I’d ever want?”
“If you agree to tell the police you shot your husband in self-defense, and that neither Dothan nor I had anything to do with it, I’ll give you the original hard copies from Reuben, along with the digital files and their keys. I’ll also swear to you here and now that Dothan and I will say nothing about January’s involvement in this fiasco, as long as you guarantee our safety.”
Dothan jumped to his feet and fell back onto the chair. “Agnes, no!”
She bent toward his chair with a stern expression. “It’s our only chance to stay out of jail and alive,” she said. “Swear that you won’t say a word to anyone about January or what happened in this room tonight.”
“I…yeah, okay, I swear, but don’t give up those papers. I’m sure I can explain everything to January and she’ll—”
Agnes held up her hand to silence him and watched Althea until the ding of the elevator broke the silence.
“The police are here, Althea. I need your answer now.”
Footsteps raced along the hall.
“Fine,” said Althea. “I agree. I’ll send the arrangements for the paperwork through my lawyer tomorrow.”
“And?”
“And I’ll see that January keeps you both safe.”
“Everyone put their hands up,” shouted a police officer from the doorway, his pistol drawn. Two others rushed in and looked around the room.
“Who’s Agnes?” asked an officer, handcuffing her.
“I am,” she said, wiggling her fingers behind her back.
Another officer turned to Dothan. “Who are you?”
Dothan stood, but as the officer handcuffed his wrists, his knees buckled, and he fell back into the chair. “Dothan Knox,” he said with a tired sigh.
The officer standing at the door whistled through the gap in his front teeth to the arriving EMTs, beckoning them inside. At first sight of Althea, the medics raced to provide her assistance. Agnes stopped her statement and shouted that Dothan had ingested drugs without his knowledge and needed medical help more than the old cow in the chair.
Two of the EMTs turned to Dothan, leaving the rest to attend to Althea. After questions and an initial examination, they appeared satisfied that he was in no immediate physical danger.
An officer, whose badge identified him as Burke, stepped away from Althea. “He’s in the clear,” he said to the officer next to Dothan. “He’s the victim. Go ahead and uncuff him.”
With his hands released, the medics helped Dothan onto a gurney. “No, wait,” he said. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. All I need are a couple of benzos and some rest.”
A medic wrapped a strap around his waist. “Sorry, guy. You’ve ingested something and they’ll need some tests to make sure you’re okay.”
“At least give me something to calm down here.”
The EMT laughed and shook his head.
“Aw, come on,” said Dothan. “Not even a Valium?”
Agnes, still in handcuffs, stood beside him. “Let them check you over at the hospital. I’ll come as soon as I can and get you back home.”
“Is Althea doing what she promised?” he whispered.
Agnes nodded. “The second they untied her, she started confessing to everything. She told them Joseph killed Sibella, and when Althea discovered his secret, he beat her so bad she had no choice but to shoot him. She also said that you showed up here high on something and, when I came to fetch you, I found Joseph’s body, hit her with a baton and tied her to the chair. I overheard a cop saying they would only charge Althea, but I expect that you and I will both have to make statements later.”
An officer released Agnes, and Dothan took her hand. “Those files were your only chance to find Reuben’s body,” he whispered. “Aren’t you afraid, once they have them, they’ll come after us again?”
She shook her head. “That won’t happen. Those ancient documents aren’t of any great importance to Conscentiam. The files contain information the company would prefer to go away, but they’ll always fear I kept copies. They’ll forget about us as long as we stay in the background.”
Agnes sighed and patted his hand. “January is another matter, but my guess is she’ll stay out of the mix and leave us alone. Althea will get the worst of her anger, but, knowing that harpy, she’ll consider it foreplay.”
“I can’t figure out why you helped me in all of this.” He smiled. “We aren’t BVFs.”
Agnes rolled her eyes and laughed. “I suppose you remind me somewhat of Reuben when I first met him. So full of yourself and ready to conquer the world, but always going about it the wrong way.”
Dothan kissed her hand. “Thanks for everything you did.”
“Stop that and let go.” Agnes screwed up her face and jerked her hand away from Dothan. “I don’t want these people thinking you’re hitting on me.”
“Let them think what they want.” He flashed a smile and winked. “I might be into cougars.”
Agnes shuddered.
Althea sobbed and howled as they lifted her onto the stretcher, but continued to detail her crimes, hushing a uniformed officer as he tried to ask questions.
“That nut job had me fooled at first,” said Agnes. “I only joined that church thinking I could get her to give me information about Reuben. All those hours of listening to her cry over her black eyes and bruises, and it turns out it was your girlfriend inflicting them.”
“I still don’t believe it,” said Dothan. “When this is over, I’ll get the truth from January.”
Agnes frowned. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, stay away from that woman. If only half of what that hag says is true, January is not just manipulative, she’s dangerous.” She sighed. “I can see I’m just wasting my breath.”
“I can’t give up on January because some crazy bitch is obsessed with her.” He pointed toward the table. “At least we found that. If you can get a few pictures of it before you leave, we can compare it to Sibella’s optogram and use that to pitch for funding after I polish up the code. If we prod a few homicide departments to take it on spec, the press releases alone will break the fucking internet. You and me will be rolling in money.”
“You’d best believe it’s both of us because this time you’re signing whatever it takes to hold you to your agreement. I’m too old to keep chasing you around and saving you from evil white women.”
“Speaking of that, how the fuck did you even know I was here?
That’s messing with my mind.”
“Will you watch your language?”
Dothan laughed. “It’s almost certain I won’t.”
Agnes rolled her eyes. “You were acting very cagey after we agreed to work together, so I figured I’d monitor you until I was sure I could trust you. I’d watched you put the passcode into your phone a dozen times at work and waited until you wandered off without it. When I got into it, I hid a silent navigation tracker on it and let it do its thing. I might be old, but I keep up with technology.”
“I thought you’d been going through my backpack. Have you been watching where I went this whole time?”
“Not every moment of the day. The app only pinged at me as soon as you were on the move, and for such a man about town, your whereabouts were pretty boring. When it notified me tonight and I saw you were heading to Seattle, though, I got the feeling something wasn’t right. I dug around for the truncheon my police friend gave me and followed the tracker navigation. Things might have turned out very different had I not convinced a resident to let me follow her inside, or if Althea hadn’t left the door to this place unlatched.”
The EMTs prepared to take Dothan. Agnes smoothed the warming blanket. “Talk to you soon,” she said.
The handcuffs attached to Althea’s stretcher clanked as they wheeled Dothan past her.
“Hey kid,” she said. “Good news. Don’t worry about your software when you get home. January has it. In fact, she’s keeping it so safe, it’s already copyrighted and she’s filed a patent in her name for the algorithm.”
“What? Stop!” screamed Dothan. The EMTs held him, dragging the gurney toward the elevator. “Althea!”
Chapter Twenty One
“Mr. Knox?”
Dothan tried to answer, but he was sure his mouth was full of cotton. He swirled his tongue around his teeth and smacked his lips.
Nothing there, he thought. Wait a minute. Where am I?
He scowled at the pungent odor of disinfectant invading his nostrils.
“Mr. Knox? Dothan?” said a gentle voice. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
Damn, she sounds nice. I wonder what my hair looks like right now.
With great effort, he lifted one eyelid, flinching at the bright light above him. Disappointed to find a pleasant, round, middle-aged woman in a white lab coat smiling at him, he sighed.
I should have kept my eyes closed.
“There you are,” she said with a wide, beaming grin. “I’m Mrs. Flemish. Do you know where you are?
“Hospital?”
“Very good. Now, I’ll be handling your medication, but first I need your medical history so Doctor can decide your treatment. They’ve run blood tests to figure out what drugs were in your system, but we haven’t gotten the results back yet. It would help if you could tell me what you think you took.”
“I don’t know what it was,” he said. “Something got slipped into my prescription bottle.”
“And what prescription is that?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“What was the name of the doctor who prescribed it?”
Images of Dr. Terry screaming as she ran from her office led him to shake his head. “I’m good,” he said.
A young woman entered the room and whispered into the nurse’s ear.
“I’m going to leave this form on your table, Mr. Knox,” said Mrs. Flemish. “I need it filled out as soon as you’re up to it, all righty?”
He nodded as she bounced through the door. The buzzing of the overhead light and the rhythmic beeping of the machines recording his vital signs irritated him. Dothan located the controls for the hospital bed, lifted himself to a seated position and looked around the gloomy, green room.
Why didn’t I tell Mary Sunshine I wanted something to keep me calm? I could have scored at least a few downers.
He fidgeted in the scratchy cotton gown and grabbed his phone. Nilesh had been trying to reach him for a few days. There was no doubt he had upset his mentor with his lack of communication, and, unless he contacted him soon, Dothan risked losing his internship. He hit the call button from the last message and waited.
“Nilesh Sittram,” said a deep baritone.
“Hey, Nilesh, it’s Dothan. Dothan Knox?”
He waited for a response, but there was none.
Dothan cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I’ve not gotten back to you, but the past few days have been pretty awful. I’m at St. Joseph’s Hospital right now from…” He panicked. Why had he not considered fabricating a cover story? “… an accident.”
God, that sounded lame.
After a long sigh, Nilesh said, “I’m sorry to hear that. So
you’re back from Oregon?”
“Yeah, and I’ll be in work tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you stop by my office before work so we can have a chat?”
“Sure, of course. It shouldn’t take me long to catch up with any changes in the software.”
“Yes, uh, I’ll see you soon then.”
As the call ended, he thought, That went well.
He was sure Nilesh was going to end his internship, but Dothan could worm his way around anyone. A bit of contrite begging should keep his placement intact.
He turned his head to face the narrow window, watching the splendor of the pink and orange sunset over the distant mountains.
I wonder what Bekkii is doing right now.
It was weird that he was even thinking of her, but de
spite trying to push away the memory of her warm smile and loving nature, she remained stuck in his head. He scrolled through his phone contacts until he reached her number. There was no doubt the call would end as soon as she answered, but he needed to hear her voice, no matter how short the conversation. He dialed and waited, but when there was no answer, he listened to her cheery message instead.
Without leaving a voicemail, he leaned his head against the tiny hospital pillow. He would see her at Dunlevy tomorrow. Maybe they could go out to lunch so he could explain his rotten behavior to her. There was no reason to worry. Bekkii was never a challenge, and it would not take much convincing to get her back.
January. He had to call January. Why had he not called her first? He dialed her cellphone and waited.
“We’re sorry,” said a robotic voice, “you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.”
He tried once more with the same response. Why had she disconnected her service? Maybe she had been blackballed and was hiding from the goons.
Maybe Althea had been telling the truth. He scowled and shook his head. No, he would never believe it.
It was strange there had been nothing from the detective regarding the murder. He sent a text to Barclay asking him to call.
A young woman dressed in a severe skirt and crisp button-up shirt appeared at the foot of his bed. “Mr. Dothan?” she asked.
“Dothan is my first name,” he snapped. “My surname is Knox.”
“Yes, all right. Well, I’m from the medical billing department, and we seem to have a bit of a problem with your health insurance. Your lady friend got the details from a card inside your wallet, but it’s showing as canceled.”
January.
“What lady friend?” he asked.
“The older lady.”
The Optogram Page 24