Investigating 101

by Debra Webb

  “You’re on.” He shoved the last bite of a doughnut into his mouth. “I’ll pick you up at six. We’ll do the movie first. That okay?” he said between attempts to chew.

  She nodded. “Sounds fine.”

  He suddenly leaned forward. “I guess you heard the news about Landon’s funding?”

  “Yes. That’s amazing, don’t you think?”

  He looked less than impressed. “I’m not sure my uncle is so happy. He wanted to make that goal first.”

  Competition. Even in medical research, that was the name of the game.

  “Do you ever hear anything from Delia Neely?” Even she felt taken aback by the sudden change in subject. But she had to get where she needed to be somehow and time was her enemy.

  He looked confused but the confusion quickly morphed into a knowing expression. “I heard she still had a thing for Landon when she left.”

  “I heard the same thing,” Serena fibbed. “I wonder why she left.”

  “My uncle says Landon fired her without actually firing her,” he said with a quotation gesture, “to make his wife happy. Ironic that he ended up losing them both.”

  Serena let his last comment pass without argument. She needed him to believe he was the one in the know on the subject.

  “Yeah, ironic,” she agreed dutifully. Her gaze narrowed and she leaned across the table as he had earlier. “Do you think she’s blackmailing him? Delia, I mean. What if he’s still paying her even though she no longer works here?”

  The light of excitement lit in his eyes. “My uncle would stroke out!”

  She reclined in her chair once more. “Too bad we can’t find out. Arthur might be very pleased with us if we uncovered some dirt.” She made a scoffing sound. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a promotion.”

  He rubbed his hand over his mouth, his expression distant. She prayed she hadn’t said too much.

  “There might be a way.”

  Adrenaline shot through her. “Really? How?”

  He looked smug. “I’ve tapped into various systems around here before. In fact, I checked my salary against some of the other clerks—”

  That he abruptly stopped talking told her he’d admitted more than he’d wanted to. “I wonder about mine,” she said under her breath.

  He relaxed. “Don’t sweat it. You’re doing way better than the other assistants.”

  A feeling of pride welled inside her. But she didn’t have time for dwelling on the news. “Can you…I mean…would you want to check out the deal on Delia? I’m dying to know.”

  A grin split his face. “Why not? A little leverage is a good thing. We might need it sometime. Or sooner.”

  Less than ten minutes later they were huddled in Nolan’s cramped cubicle in the mail room. Serena fisted her fingers to keep them still. She’d tugged at her skirt until she felt certain he’d noticed. For some stupid reason she’d picked the shortest one she owned this morning. Not that it was actually short by most standards, but it hit three inches above her knee, which was short for her. She’d even forgone her usual button-up blouse this morning and opted for a more feminine-looking sweater in a mint green that complemented her deeper green skirt nicely.

  Not once in her life had she given what she wore that much thought. And he hadn’t even noticed.

  Todd, she meant.

  Although she’d memorized most of his body, he’d barely glanced at her.

  “Here we go.”

  Nolan dragged her attention back to the task at hand. He’d entered the accounting system and was now searching for, by way of Delia’s social security number, when her last payment had gone out.

  She shifted, more from the numbness setting in than her nervousness. Nolan had offered his chair but she’d declined. He would need it for doing what he was doing. So he’d turned his trash can upside down and presented it as a second seat. Her bottom wasn’t handling the lack of cushioning too well.

  “Aha.”

  Her gaze zeroed in on the results of his latest search.

  “Oh, my God.”

  Once a month, a sum larger than Serena’s monthly salary was processed to Delia Neely’s social security number. How could he do that?

  “Bastard,” she muttered.

  “Damn,” Nolan breathed. “He is paying her. With Milestone funds. This is a new account number, too. See.” He pointed to the screen. “These payments were initiated just six months ago.”

  Serena snapped out of her haze of fury. She had to be certain. “Is there a way to verify who authorized the payments?”

  “Sure.” His fingers flew over the keys. “Right there.”

  The series of numbers didn’t mean anything to her. In fact, numbers was all the screen contained. The routing number for the bank and the account number. Another series of digits representing authorization. She should be writing this down. But how? She glanced at Nolan. His mouth hung open in something akin to astonishment.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This isn’t possible.”

  She looked from him to the screen and back. “What isn’t possible?”

  He moved his head side to side. “This…this authorization number is my uncle’s.”

  “What?” A surge of shock or disbelief pushed aside all other thought.

  He tapped the screen above the authorization code. “Those numbers mean my uncle authorized these payments.”

  “But…that can’t be…” Serena stared at the numbers, wished she had a photographic memory.

  “Nolan!”

  Both of them jumped at the sound of his name being shouted from the other side of the mail room.

  Serena knew that voice.

  “It’s my uncle.” Nolan swore.

  She nodded. “What do we do?” She needed those numbers.

  “Let me back out of this system.”

  She had to do something. “Wait. Let me write this down…in case…we can’t find it again.”

  He blinked but seemed to accept her explanation.

  “Hurry!” he muttered.

  She quickly wrote down the routing and account numbers and shoved the slip of paper into her pocket. She didn’t bother with the authorization number. “Got it.”

  A few more flicks of the keys and the screen faded to his log-in page.

  “Nolan! Where the hell are you?”

  Arthur Miles was almost to the cubicle now….

  “Damn,” Nolan muttered.

  Arthur would know they were up to something.

  “Nolan,” she said, uncertain she could do the only thing she felt might work.

  He turned to her, worry scrunching his face. “Yeah?”

  She licked her lips. “Kiss me.”

  Realization dawned in his expression. He grabbed her face with both hands and pulled her mouth to his. She refused to part her lips but that didn’t keep him from kissing her hard, from delving his fingers into her hair.

  “Nolan! What—”

  They jumped apart. Serena’s face went beet red all on its own.

  “Good Lord.” Arthur Miles, the single largest investor in Milestone Labs aside from Charles Landon, took a step back. “I apologize for the intrusion.”

  Nolan stood. “It’s okay, Uncle Artie. Did you need something?”

  Serena got to her feet, swayed slightly, tried to find a way to wipe her lips without either of the men noticing.

  “I…” Arthur glanced at Serena but quickly shifted his attention back to his nephew. “Your aunt insists you come to dinner on Sunday night.” He cleared his throat. “You may invite Miss Blake if you’d like.”

  “Cool.” Nolan looked like the winner of the latest bachelorette competition. “You good with that?”

  She managed a shaky nod.

  The cell phone in Serena’s pocket vibrated. “I should get back to my office. Dr. Landon may be looking for me.”

  Knowing she had to keep up the act, she stood on tiptoes and kissed Nolan on the cheek. “See you later.” She smiled for Dr
. Miles as he stepped aside.

  Serena forced herself to walk, not run, to the elevator. Her phone kept vibrating but she couldn’t answer it until she was back at her office.

  In the elevator she wiped her mouth on her sleeve and shuddered. Nothing against Nolan, but he definitely wasn’t her type. That she hadn’t been kissed in ages only made the idea that her latest had come from him more depressing.

  When the elevator stopped on her floor she hurried to her office, keeping her eyes straight ahead so no one would waylay her. She swiped her badge and pushed into her office.

  Thank God.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  Todd stood in front of her desk, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

  “I—” Irritation kindled. “What’s wrong with you?”

  He reined in the anger in his eyes, but just barely. What the hell had happened?

  “Molly Landon’s father was found dead in his bed at the nursing home this morning. The authorities have been called in. Preliminary evidence indicates he was suffocated.”

  Denial slammed into her. She wanted to demand to know if he was sure…but that was ridiculous. Of course he was sure. And still what her ears had heard wouldn’t line up with what her heart wanted to believe.

  Molly’s father was dead.

  Murdered?

  Like her doctor.

  Dear God, who was next?

  “What happened to your hair?”

  His question was like a bucket of cold water in her face. “What?” Her hands went automatically to her head. Wisps of hair had fallen from her carefully arranged bun.

  The memory of Nolan kissing her, burrowing his fingers in her hair slammed into her next.

  “I—I got the information about payments to Delia.”

  That answer didn’t appear to be the one he’d wanted.

  Before either of them could say anything, the phone on her desk rang.

  What now?

  Chapter Twelve

  Serena stood in the long line of supporters in the spotlight as a press conference focused on Dr. Landon and his funding announcement took place that afternoon at four.

  Her smile felt nailed into place. Stiff and insincere. The one thing she could be sure of was that not a single hair on her head was out of place. Even now, humiliation steamed through her. She should have checked her hair before going back into her office. But she’d been too rattled. Almost getting caught by Dr. Miles and then having Todd Thompson call her cell phone looking for her had sent her emotions into a whirlwind.

  She’d barely had time to come to terms with the news about Molly’s father when she’d had to come to this press conference. In the intervening time Todd had confirmed that Molly’s father’s death was definitely a murder. Braddock had reached out to his contacts at Chicago P.D. The exact cause of death had been estimated as suffocation but the autopsy hadn’t been completed as yet, so that could change.

  Who would want to harm an old man with Alzheimer’s? He rarely had a lucid day at this point. Serena couldn’t help wondering if anyone had told his wife. Though she’d had a stroke three years ago and was unable to communicate, there was a chance she was aware of the goings-on around her. Would telling her be crueler than not telling her at all?

  Molly wasn’t here to make that decision.

  There wasn’t anyone.

  Serena’s gaze drifted to Charles Landon at the podium where he enthusiastically answered questions from the numerous representatives of Chicago’s massive media machine.

  How could this have happened? Molly was missing. Her doctor had been murdered and now…her father.

  It was too much.

  More than a dozen journalists and reporters shouted Landon’s name in an attempt to earn the privilege of asking the next question. The whole scene felt surreal. Serena didn’t want to be here…she wanted to go home and forget this day and last night.

  Beyond her own troubling thoughts she heard Landon make his selection for the next question. She didn’t recognize the reporter’s name but his face seemed familiar. Maybe he represented one of the local television channels.

  “Dr. Landon, we can all feel your enthusiasm. This is truly a step in the right direction for all of Milestone Laboratories.” A round of applause followed the reporter’s summation.

  From the corner of her eye she could see Landon nodding and smiling, his whole face beaming with pride. Molly would want to be here for this. She would be so proud. Whatever made her husband happy, made her happy.

  “With that in mind,” the reporter continued, finally getting around to his question, “how do you suppose your wife would feel about this advanced research you’ll be conducting? Was Mrs. Landon a supporter of your work?”

  You could have heard a single intake of breath in the ensuing silence if anyone had been breathing.

  Serena’s gaze shifted to Dr. Landon. For several seconds she was certain he didn’t intend to respond to the question, but then he did.

  “Sir, my wife devoutly supports my work. She is my staunchest supporter, in fact.”

  Another round of applause followed Landon’s smooth rebuttal. Serena imagined everyone in the room had taken a deep breath.

  Everyone but her. She couldn’t take her eyes off Landon long enough to remember to breathe.

  He did love Molly. Whatever his marital crimes, he loved his wife and believed that she was still alive. That was the purpose of emphasizing is when the reporter had specifically used was in his reference to Molly.

  She’d been wrong. She took in an unsteady breath. She’d spent all this time certain he was the one…and he couldn’t be. This was the second or third time she’d seen the love for his wife in his eyes.

  How could she have been so wrong?

  But who then? Who would want to harm Molly?

  Delia Neely’s name zipped immediately to the top of the list. But why was Dr. Miles giving her money?

  The epiphany came so fast and so furiously that she lost her breath all over again.

  Dr. Landon’s success in bringing in the needed funding put him on the forefront of this new frontier. Made him the center of attention. Where did that leave Dr. Miles?

  In his colleague’s shadow.

  A step behind.

  Nolan had said his uncle wasn’t happy about Landon’s achievement. Maybe Todd was wrong. Maybe the need for vengeance had been slowly smoldering.

  There was the possibility that Dr. Miles and Delia Neely had conspired together to ruin Dr. Landon. What better way than to use his wife and his unborn child?

  Serena’s knees went weak and it was all she could do to stay vertical.

  She sought Todd and Mr. Braddock in the crowd. Both men stood at the back of the fray. As soon as this press conference was over, she had to tell Todd what she’d concluded.

  It was simple.

  If they found Delia Neely, they would find Molly Landon.

  Neither Delia nor Dr. Miles was a murderer.

  Serena stilled. Felt herself go cold. Could she really be sure of that? Why else would Dr. Miles be giving money to Delia if she wasn’t watching someone for him?

  Blackmail money?

  Did she know what he had done? Had she threatened to tell?

  Serena didn’t have any real evidence. All she had was supposition. Miles could insist that Delia continued to do freelance work for Milestone. And that wasn’t impossible. But there were far too many coincidences for it to sit right with Serena.

  Delia and Molly had used the same ob-gyn. Delia had carried on an affair with Molly’s husband. She knew Molly’s schedule. Probably knew everything about her.

  Another stab of fear burrowed deep in Serena’s chest.

  Did she know about the connection between Serena and Molly? Had she somehow been listening in on their conversations?

  That would explain what had happened to the memory box.

  It might even explain Dr. Wright’s murder.

  But none of it explained away
the murder of Molly’s father, a helpless old man who scarcely remembered his own name most days.

  Fury replaced the fear and pain Serena felt. She would find the truth. She wouldn’t stop until she did.

  SERENA DIDN’T TALK as Todd drove her home at five-thirty. The press conference had dragged on more than the allotted time. Then an impromptu celebration had prevented his getting Serena out of there for another hour.

  He’d wanted to grab her by the arm and haul her out as soon as she’d come back from her rendezvous with that geek Nolan Fairbanks. She’d gotten the information on Delia Neely, but at what price? Serena had refused to say what had happened. But he could guess. Nolan had taken advantage of the situation. Had stolen a few kisses at the very least.

  Dirt bag.

  “Are you all right?” he asked as he pulled up alongside the curb in front of her town house.

  She didn’t look at him, just stared front and center as if she hadn’t heard him. “No,” she said wearily. “I’m definitely not all right.”

  He got out and rounded the hood to open her door. She let him. More uncharacteristic behavior.

  Once they were inside, she came to life, threw her purse down on the couch and turned on him. “It’s Arthur Miles. He and Delia did this to Molly.”

  Todd held up his hands in a “whoa” gesture. “Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet. We don’t have any evidence that connects either of them to Molly’s disappearance.”

  “What about the payments to Delia? Explain that.” She bracketed her hands on her waist and dared him to come up with an answer.

  “Delia Neely could be doing outside work for Milestone Labs. You don’t know that she isn’t.”

  From her crestfallen expression he knew she couldn’t deny that possibility.

  “There are just too many coincidences.” She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. She looked exhausted.

  He wanted to reach out to her. To assure her he could make all this go away. But he wasn’t so sure. They didn’t have anything substantial yet.

  She had a point, however, about the coincidences. “You’re right.”

  The way she looked at him told him those two little words meant a great deal.