by Darin Gibby
“We might as well get comfortable,” Long said. “We have a lot to go over. Let’s start with me telling you that you have a right to have an attorney present.”
Addy took a deep breath and pressed down her grief. “You forget what happened to my attorney,” she said abruptly. “Let’s get this over with so I can go see Quinn.”
Peele led Addy to the couch and both women sat. Long paced back and forth with his arms folded, deep in thought. Finally he stopped and looked at Addy.
“I think you need to understand our predicament. We had this crazy inventor who was convinced Quinn stole his idea. He made such a stink that Peele had to formally investigate his claims. Right in the middle of our investigation, you come along, and your login credentials are used to access the Department of Energy’s patent applications. We wanted to keep all of this out of the public eye until we could sort out the allegations. Not to mention there are certain political reasons that we’ve been asked to look into this. But now the cat is out of the bag and we can’t put it back in.”
Addy raised her eyebrows and looked steadily at Peele.
“Unfortunately, Long is right. Your stunt is going to put a lot of people on the hot seat, including me,” Peele said. “How did you possibly think that public opinion could prove your innocence?”
“What about the fact that you were suppressing Quinn’s patents?”
“Just to make sure they didn’t contain stolen technology,” Peele said.
“But they didn’t.”
“If you believe Quinn,” Long added.
“What about the information from his patents that ended up with the Department of Energy?”
“That’s what he claims,” Long continued.
“I believe him, for some strange reason. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do. And you know what ultimately convinced me?”
Long shrugged.
“When Quinn jumped down from the semi and single-handedly took on those assholes.”
Long raised his brows.
“You know who they are, don’t you?” Addy probed.
“I shouldn’t tell, but I suppose it will be on the news soon enough.”
“Well?”
“The mastermind behind your attacks is a man named Jerry Wilcox. I’ve mentioned him before.”
Addy remembered the name. He was the crazed inventor who claimed that Quinn stole his ideas while Quinn was working for HydroGen. Wilcox was the fourth assailant from of the black Suburban. She’d nearly struck him and the woman when she crashed her way out of the barricade.
“Where is he?” Addy said.
“Probably in the morgue.”
“Are you sure?”
“You’re looking at the agent who shot him.”
“Wait, you’re the one who saved Quinn?”
“Yes, I got there just in time. Your taxi driver happened to recognize you. And good thing I live close, otherwise I would have never made it in time.”
“Well, I guess I should thank you for that,” Addy conceded. “But you need to know that Quinn didn’t steal his idea. Wilcox doesn’t even have any patents. He couldn’t make the technology work. That’s why the patent office was looking at Quinn’s patent applications—because Quinn was the one who figured it out.”
“That will all be part of the investigation,” Long said.
“And Wilcox went rogue when you couldn’t stop him and decided to do it himself.”
“Quinn didn’t help his case when he hired you to hack into Wilcox’s patents,” Long reminded her.
“Sung-soo,” she corrected him. “It was Sung-soo who used my login.”
“You can see my dilemma. I have two inventors who claimed to have invented the same thing. And one of them thinks the other stole it. Add to all this a government who isn’t ready for the next big thing. Oil is big business.”
This time Peele glared at Long.
“And in the meantime, nobody gets the technology,” Addy said.
“You see the issue.”
“And now you can see why I revealed the secret to the biggest audience possible.”
Peele put her hand on Addy’s knee. “We’re not getting anywhere with this. Why don’t we all take a deep breath and relax for a bit?”
Addy wasn’t ready to relax. “What about the other terrorists? The man with the tattoo? Did he kill Perry and Johnston?”
Long held up his hands. “Slow down a bit. I can tell you that his neck was broken. He won’t hurt you again.”
Addy remembered the image of the man flying through the air when she’d crashed the semi into the Suburban. “Serves him right. Did he kill Perry?”
“That’s what we’re going with right now. Wilcox may well have hired him and a team of terrorists to make sure you and Quinn didn’t succeed.”
“Well, they didn’t manage it.”
Partially satisfied with their explanations and completely exhausted, Addy allowed herself to fall back into the soft embrace of the couch. She could feel herself fading.
“Now maybe we can all work together,” she said as her eyes closed.
41
ADDY SLEPT UNDISTURBED until morning, when the surgeon gently knocked on the door and Agent Long jumped out of his slumber and answered.
The surgeon was still in his teal green scrubs with surgical cap covering his head. Addy snapped to attention and began rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“Addy?” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Dr. Scott.” He took Addy’s hand in his own, immediately noticing the swelling.
“Quinn, how is he?”
“This needs some attention,” he said, gently rubbing his finger over the bump.
“Never mind that. Tell me about Quinn.”
The doctor shook his head and grinned. “You’re tough as nails. I’ll give you an update, but then you’re coming with me. We’re giving that an X-ray.”
“Fine,” Addy said.
“It’s all good news, considering.” Dr. Scott folded his arms. “Quinn is conscious and in stable condition, but he’s in no condition to be seen, so please don’t ask. I’ll personally let you know when I think he’s okay to have visitors.”
He confirmed that the skull fracture was not serious, but Quinn would be in pain for some time. His head was heavily bandaged, and he was suffering from severe headaches. As for his shoulder, the bullet had missed the joint, but had torn through muscle and ligaments. He should eventually have full use of his arm, but he’d need months of physical therapy.
“All in all, good news for what could easily have been a fatality.”
She reached out and hugged the surgeon. “Thank you. Let’s go look at my hand.”
* * *
The moment she saw Quinn, Addy rushed to his side, taking his hand in hers, ignoring that one was freshly plastered.
“Thanks for coming,” Quinn whispered. “We’ve got to quit meeting in hospitals.”
She rubbed his cheek. “This will be the last one.”
“Tell me about the Super Bowl,” he said, then closed his eyes.
Addy told him everything, from the wailing horn outside the stadium to the agents chasing her across the field. “Zissy was great. We couldn’t have done it without her. And the formula was plastered right on the giant screen. You couldn’t miss it. I told everyone that your invention was being dedicated to them, to the world. Our secret is out!”
Quinn’s eyes cracked open and she swore she saw a hint of a twinkle. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my day?” Quinn said.
“Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“I’ve got to tell someone,” he said through a slight smile. “I told you Wilcox was crazy. He kept demanding that I give him the catalyst—and the credit. When I refused to answer him, he kept cracking my skull and punching me in the stomach. Now I know how you must have felt.”
Quinn paused and squeezed his eyes shut.
“That’s enough. Get some rest,” Addy demanded.
“I’m okay,” he said
. “I thought it was all over, but then Wilcox demanded I send you a message to see if I could stop you. I kept praying someone would find me. Then you called and bought me more time. When I told you to go ahead with the commercial, he started beating me again. Then he pulled out his gun and said it was all over. That’s when Agent Long arrived.”
“We got lucky. The taxi driver ratted on us. Turns out that saved your life.”
“What happened to the others?”
Addy explained how the man with the tattoo was a hired gun and got what he deserved. “I think that’s enough for now. You need to rest.”
* * *
Addy returned the next day to find Quinn chatting with one of the nurses. A tray with scraps of scrambled eggs and toast was pushed off to the side of the bed.
“I forgot to ask you,” he said when she entered, carrying an armful of flowers. “Have you heard anything from your stepmother?”
Addy sat beside him. “Oh yeah, I didn’t tell you. We spoke this morning. She said she is so proud of me for what I did. I’m going to visit next week.”
“That’s fantastic,” Quinn said, taking her cast in his hand. “My father—”
“I’m sorry,” Addy said.
“No, it’s all good. His plane is already in the air. I’m not sure what he’s going to say, but at least he’s coming. That’s a start.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Hopefully I’ll be out of prison when he comes.”
“Stop it,” Addy said. “You can’t be worrying about that, especially not until you get healthy.”
“Can you blame me? And, you’re forgetting that I still owe my investors a ton of money. I just gave away my invention.”
Addy stood and rested her hands on her hips. “If you keep talking like that, I’m leaving. It’s all going to work out. The Patent Office has already posted a notice on its web page officially halting the secret suppression program. There’s so much chatter on the social media sites that the government would be crazy to prosecute you.”
“Then what next?”
“Trust me.”
42
ADDY’S BANDAGED HAND contrasted sharply with her black dress. Perry’s graveside service was somber yet uplifting.
Right before the service began, Lynda and Addy’s two stepsiblings, Billy and Cassandra, had sneaked into the back pew. Addy noticed them when she looked over her shoulder after Pingree had commented on the vast number of mourners in attendance. Lynda smiled and waved. Addy smiled and patted her chest, her heart full. She finally had a family.
Addy gave the closing remarks, reminding everyone how much Perry missed his wife after her passing, and revealing that he’d sacrificed all his assets to pay for the Super Bowl commercial.
If it weren’t for Perry’s patience and sacrifice, she reminded them, Hindy would never have made her maiden voyage.
Beneath a large oak tree, Addy, along with her former Wyckoff partners, tried to make sense of the previous week’s events. Bob Pingree, Wyckoff’s managing partner, fidgeted with the change in his pockets. His fleshy cheeks drooped, as did his bloodshot eyes. “Water to Gold,” he repeated. “I still don’t understand how you two got mixed up in this mess.”
Addy had already explained it more times than she cared to count. But these were Perry’s partners, and for him she would rehash the story one more time.
“It turns out that Quinn and WTG really did invent a technology that could efficiently extract hydrogen from water—and the catalyst was central to that technology. The problem was that Quinn began his career working for Jerry Wilcox who had his own program with the Department of Energy. When Quinn left, Jerry was convinced that Quinn stole his ideas.”
“Sounds similar to the race to develop the atomic bomb during World War II,” Pingree said. “But this time it was Korea versus the United States.”
“In a way,” Addy said. “The difference is that with the race to develop a hydrogen fuel cell, the US wanted to stall its development. In order to protect its heavy investment in fossil fuels, the DOE had tried to keep the technology hidden, at least for another decade, until the US investment in big oil had paid off.”
“And that included trying to stop Quinn.”
“Yes, and Wilcox added fuel to the fire. He ran to the Justice Department with his accusations. That was all the Justice Department needed to employ their resources to stop Quinn.
“What I can’t believe,” Pingree said, “was that the Patent Office actually had a program to suppress Quinn’s patent applications. Our own government!”
“That’s why Quinn hired me,” Addy said.
“He picked the best. If anyone could get WTG’s applications granted as patents, it would be you.”
“But Quinn’s strategy backfired. He didn’t know that others at WTG felt entitled to spy on the US and troll for ideas in the DOE patent applications—using my login credentials.”
“And that’s what got you arrested.”
Addy nodded.
“So what about this radical Muslim group we heard about?” Pingree asked.
“That was all Wilcox. He’d heard rumors that Quinn’s catalyst was nearing perfection, and so Wilcox decided to take matters into his own hands. He hired a hitman, Shaun Ritter, who had taken the name of Azhar Nejem. It was the perfect solution to Wilcox’s problem. He counted on having US law enforcement and justice groups believe that a radical Muslim group would do anything to protect the oil economies of the Middle East.”
“But it was really all a disgruntled American inventor,” Pingree said.
“I’m afraid so. Wilcox was responsible for the death of both Examiner Johnston and Perry.”
Pingree moved closer to put his arm around her and pull her close. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything we can do for you?”
She nodded. “Thanks, but I think I’m okay. They are going to drop all charges against me. The Justice Department was so embarrassed that the Patent Office had been suppressing WTG’s technology that they decided to leave me alone rather than trying to explain what they had been doing to a judge. And it goes without saying that I couldn’t possibly have murdered Johnston or Perry.”
“You know you’re always welcome to come back to Wyckoff,” Pingree offered. “We need a partner to take over Perry’s clients. He would have wanted that.”
“I’ll think about it,” Addy said. “I’m going to need a few weeks off to rethink my life. I love being a lawyer, but something tells me I need to see this Hindy project through to the end.”
“You could do both,” Pingree said.
Addy smiled. The offer was tempting but unrealistic. Both were more than full-time jobs. “I’ll let you know.”
The group turned to remembering their happy times with Perry and Keri, trying to make it a day of celebration rather than mourning. Later, in small, murmuring groups, they got in their cars and drove away.
On the way to her own car, Addy noticed a familiar figure wearing a straight black dress lurking the shadows. Hesitantly, the woman emerged and walked toward Addy. It was Janice.
“I know you probably don’t want to talk to me,” Janice began, “but there are some things I need to tell you.”
“This probably isn’t the best place,” Addy said.
“I understand, but I need to tell you this before I lose my nerve. I’m so sorry. I never meant any of this to happen.”
“Well, it did,” Addy said peering at Perry’s casket, still perched above the freshly dug grave. “And you helped it.”
“I admit that what I did was wrong, and I want to apologize. I let WTG suck me in, and that was wrong.”
Addy was ready to stop her, but decided she wanted to hear Janice’s story. She let her continue.
“When you and Quinn had the interview with Examiner Johnston, everyone at WTG freaked out when they learned that you’d been arrested. Sung-soo was bouncing around the office like a pinball machine, tearing apart the network like a tidal wave was ready to strike the
office. I was scared about what was going to happen to me and my daughter. I was afraid I wasn’t going to have enough money to take care of my baby. It was clear I was going to lose my job, and I was afraid that after your arrest there was no way any law firm in town would touch me.
“When I asked Sung-soo what was happening, he told me that I needed to speak with Jeyhu. Together, we called Korea, and Jeyhu told me I could either be fired or I could get a year’s salary as a bonus if I would stay one more month and help them with a special project.”
“Special project?”
“You were the only person outside of WTG who knew the technology. They were worried that you were going to do something vindictive. They wanted me to help them stop you.”
Janice wiped away a tear.
“I had nowhere to turn. I was out of options. I was desperate.”
Addy waited while Janice composed herself.
“I didn’t realize Wyckoff had already decided to take me back until I was already committed. When I did get my job back, Jeyhu threatened me if I didn’t follow through for WTG.
“I’m sorry I gave you a fake bank account to wire the money for the commercial. When Jeyhu discovered that Quinn was communicating with you, he feared Quinn was helping you with your plan. Jeyhu was doing everything he could to stop you.”
“Did WTG send that laundry truck to the football stadium?”
For the first time Janice let a small smile lighten her expression. “It was all Jeyhu could think of. Nobody at WTG thought you’d get that far.
“I also want to remind you that I’m not all bad. I gave you the Freedom of Information papers because I hoped you could get the Patent Office to let Quinn’s patents through.”
But only because WTG still owned the patents, Addy thought.
“And I honestly didn’t know WTG was hacking the PTO database until after you were arrested.”
Addy had heard enough. “Well, thanks for the apology, but I need to get going. My family is waiting for me.”
Epilogue
“So tell us how you came up with the name for your new company,” said Bryant Rose, the host of the Today Show.
