by Cathryn Fox
“They’ve been at it all morning,” Bonnie said. “Sure hope it does some good.”
One man, struggling, carried the soaking wet dummy up the steps. When he reached the top he let the limp figure drop onto the deck with a sickening thud. She tried not to look at the body. It wasn’t Don. But when her eyes betrayed her with a glance, she felt it all over again. The heat rose to her face, beads of sweat broke out all over her body, and her stomach clenched in revulsion. The dizzying nausea overwhelmed her until she forced herself to look away.
It was not Don.
But that hardly mattered. It had been Don.
She leaned back against the wall, squeezing her eyes closed as tight as she could, but she felt some of the tears escaping anyway. She let herself slide down the wall to a heap on the floor and let her head drop into her hands. She felt Laura and Bonnie hover over her. She heard their voices, but she didn’t hear what they said. She felt their hands on her, trying to move her. But she couldn’t respond. She fell into the solace of oblivion.
By the time Al arrived later that day, Roxanne felt she’d recovered her sanity. But with it came the unrelenting feeling of loss. Images of Lindy and Don floated through her mind. But the worse sense of loss came when she thought of Barry Dennis.
The phone rang. She sat in the kitchen in her assigned seat at the table, sipping tea. The phone rang a lot. She’d turned off her cell phone. Al picked up his cell and clicked it on. He nodded. “Did you find him?” Al asked.
Roxanne knew he was talking about Mark. She tuned out the conversation. Roxanne hated having to be so desperately counting on one man’s appearance. It shouldn’t be so hard to prove she was innocent. She shouldn’t have to. But it was, and she did.
That was the thought that had been nagging at the back of her mind these last months. Every time it came up she pushed it back down. She’d been determined to win the war of wills against Penelope.
The realization was finally taking hold, however, that maybe there was no making up for the fact that Don was dead. Someone had to pay. Marrying Don was a mistake she’d have to live with. If Penelope succeeded in making her atone for his death, she’d have to live with that too. Maybe no other penance would do.
She looked at Al as he hung up the phone. The smile he had on his face disappeared as he looked at her.
“Don’t mind me. This is my day for being morose. I’ll get over it.” She smiled at him. But she wasn’t so sure how she’d get over all this. She straightened in her chair and put more effort into her smile. She determined that she sure as hell was going to have to do her best to live with “it.” Because “it” was herself.
“This should cheer you. Thanks to the last lead, the detective is one step behind Mark and closing in. We’re making progress all around. Our forensics expert says we should have test results on the dynamics of the fall to support our theory.” Al stopped talking. “This is good news, Rox. Are you sure you’re okay? You should have let Dr. Oki give you that sedative.”
“I don’t need a sedative. Look how calm I am. I have all I need. A good lawyer and good friends.” Her smile broke out automatically this time. He took her hand and beamed a smile back. She decided she loved Al. The same way she’d loved Don. She looked away from him. She was going to have to let him go. Soon.
Chapter Twenty-One
“WE HAVE to look for bank statements, the transaction statements from the Trust Account Roxanne had set up for the fund. Accounting is administering the fund so it should be down here,” Laura said in a whisper as she stepped across the threshold, hunched over.
“What do we look for?” Tim asked, taking the huge ring of keys from the door and looking for somewhere to put them.
“Make sure all the deposits have been recorded. It will be tough to tell because in the beginning Harry trusted accounting to keep track and didn’t keep copies of the checks he sent out.” Laura didn’t bother to keep the accusatory note from her voice. She’d always told Harry he was remiss for not keeping better track of things from their end.
Harry defended himself. “All I did is send a memo with the checks for deposit to the accounting office. Who ever thought there’d be a problem? But I made a list from memory, or at least tried to. I know nothing can be proven from my mental list, but at least we’ll know and it’ll confirm our suspicions. Hey—I got us the password to the computer account, didn’t I?”
“And I got the password to Dr. Evans’s personal files,” she countered. “Now we can see the files that can only be accessed from his computer.” She didn’t want to admit how she’d gotten said password, but they didn’t need to know.
“What else can we look for?” Tim asked, looking around at all the file cabinets.
“Withdrawals.” Laura said, as she tapped at the keyboard to access the accounting files “Here’s the file for the State Street Trust Account. Wait, this is for the building project. Here’s another for the Dr. Oki research fund.” She tapped more keys and scrolled down the screen. “This is odd. Both these files were duplicated in Dr. Evans’s personal Expense Account file.” Laura looked up at the two men and smiled. Her feeling of triumph overrode her horror at the situation.
“What kind of withdrawals are we looking for? There’s a bunch here, but I have no clue what they’re for. Only dollar amounts are listed.” Harry said from across the room as he flipped through a massive binder filled with computer printouts.
Laura went over. “Are these the reports for the Dr. Oki Fund Trust Account? Let me see.” Laura took it from Harry and sat back down to check the official reports against what she found on Dr. Evans’s computer. “This is impossible. I’ve been doing all the check requests and I’ve been very explicit about specifying what they’re for.” She looked at Harry and her heart began thudding at an alarming rate “I’ve kept very good records.” She took a deep breath. “There are withdrawals from this account that match deposits to Dr. Evans’s account.”
“Who else is authorized to withdraw from this account?” Tim asked her.
“Only me and … Roxanne.” Harry and Tim looked at each other. Her heart pounded harder.
“Wait a minute,” she said.
“All the deposits look kosher, but look at these withdrawals.” Harry said, leaning over her shoulder.
“I don’t believe it. He’s been setting her up.” Laura let her fear have free reign.
“But why? What’s he doing with the money?” Tim questioned.
“The guy from accounting said they’d been channeling it toward the building fund. But I doubt he was aware of the extent to which it had been going on—or the fact that Roxanne never authorized those withdrawals in the first place. And Dr. Evans thinks he’s covered if anyone ever said anything. It was Roxanne’s name on the check request.”
“But the building project was well funded. Why did he need all this extra cash? There is a piece missing here,” Tim pointed out.
Laura smiled. “Exactly. That would be the deposits into Dr. Evans’s accounts which line up nicely with some of the withdrawals from the building account.”
“Now things are starting to make more sense to me. The National Institute of Health would have looked at this building trust in their audit. The least they would have come up with is mismanagement of funds. That’s why Evans discouraged the refiling of an NIH grant,” Harry speculated as he looked over Laura’s shoulder at the computer screen at Dr. Evans’s private account file. “But we need more to prove our theory. I’m going through the transaction statements on the construction project account to get some specifics.”
“We can’t stay here. I’ll make printouts now.” Laura hoped they would find the smoking gun fast for Roxanne’s sake.
“Good. Then let’s get out of here. Being in this place after hours like this gives me the willies. It’s like any minute security is going to come bursting through the door and we’ll all be arrested like in some rerun of a private dick series.” Harry shivered. They all laughed.
�
�Don’t worry. I told Bob, the security officer, I had to pick up a check from this office. He trusts me completely. He gave me his whole set of keys, didn’t he?” Tim said.
“Shows what a good judge of character he is,” Harry snorted.
“Yeah. Shows how much we’re willing to put ourselves on the line for Roxanne. I only hope it does some good. I hope the deck isn’t already stacked too high against her.” Laura shut down the computer and looked at Tim for reassurance.
“Don’t worry about that. I think between us we have enough credibility to unstack a pretty tall deck.”
Harry laughed. “You do have a way with words. We ready to blow this joint?” Harry looked at Laura.
“I think you’re starting to take this private dick role a little too seriously,” she said. They all laughed. She picked up the printouts and they left the office in a hush.
“I don’t know why you didn’t let me come into your office today. I haven’t been out of this house for days and it’s driving me crazy.” Roxanne greeted Al at the door. The January sunshine glared on this gloriously crisp Friday morning.
Al gestured over his shoulder toward the now familiar figures of media reading in their cars across the street. “That’s why. After the fiasco at the hospital I don’t want to take any more chances.”
She led him into the kitchen. She didn’t know exactly when she crossed over from apathy, but she now hated this house. She couldn’t wait until the place was sold.
They sat at the kitchen table.
“Roxanne, I saw the DA’s file on you. Among other things, he has signed affidavits from witnesses swearing they heard you threaten Don’s life at a party and that you had several very public fights. Is this true?” He looked at her like an angry teacher at a student.
“Yes. We had fights. But I never threatened his life. I threatened to divorce him in public maybe. No, definitely.”
Al scowled. “Tell me about your most recent fight.”
“I’ve already gone over this with you. We covered it all with Detective Turner’s questioning.”
“Tell me again.” He was all business.
“Fine. We were at our neighbor’s house, the musicians, at a party. It was early spring. April, I think. I’d already realized that I was never going to fall in love with Don the way he loved me by then. I knew I couldn’t give him what he wanted, that it had been a bad idea to marry him. But it was becoming apparent exactly how bad an idea. I think Don was also starting to realize that I wasn’t the woman he thought I was. He thought he had married some goddess. I could never live up to his image of me.”
“Get to the point,” Al interjected.
Roxanne was undaunted. She forced herself to recall that time yet again. This time, all the feelings came flooding back with clarity.
“He didn’t want to go to the party. I did. I told him he didn’t have to come with me if he didn’t want to, but I was a big girl and I could certainly handle going alone. He said that he knew that was what I wanted—to go alone so I could pick up some other man. I denied it even though he didn’t listen. He didn’t believe me.”
“Was it true? Were you looking for someone else?” Al asked.
“No. At the time I felt restless. I just needed to get out. So we both went. He drank a lot. He didn’t like the crowd. They weren’t his people. They were music people and assorted neighbors. I had a great time. He tried to stick to my side, but I didn’t let that stop me from talking to anyone and everyone.”
“Talking?” Al raised a brow.
“I talked and laughed and joked and had a great time. He drank and drank. Don was normally a very nice guy with a very gentle disposition, and he didn’t usually drink much. That night he wasn’t himself, in a big way. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, I remember him being unusually belligerent. At one point, I called him on it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I dragged him to a private corner and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing being so rude. He said it was better than being too friendly. I laughed at him. Then he would have slapped me if he weren’t so drunk and slow. I caught his hand. I told him if he ever tried anything like that again I’d divorce him. He was practically in tears with apologies after that.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I walked away from him. I was very angry. Outraged. I had no sympathy. I said …” She paused.
“What did you say, Roxanne?” Al’s jaw was tense. It made her uncomfortable. But she looked him in the eye and told him what she said to Don that night.
“I said, ‘Maybe I should divorce you anyway.’”
“Then what did you do? Is that all? It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear any more of this anyway.” Al put one hand over his face and turned away from her.
“You knew we had problems all along, Al. Why so squeamish now?” She wasn’t about to apologize to Al for anything. She owed Don, even though she couldn’t do a thing for him. But he was the only one.
“You’re still a bitch aren’t you?”
She flinched inwardly. “It’s like being an alcoholic. You never really get over it, you just do your best to behave.” Roxanne thought of her mother. Her mother had done her best, but it hadn’t been good enough had it? She stood abruptly. She wasn’t her mother. She was stronger than her mother. She only had half her mother’s genes.
“Where are you going?” Al stood.
She wheeled around. “What the hell do you care?” She knew she wasn’t playing fair now, but he’d hurt her with his words and his sympathy for Don at a time when she needed reassurance.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been too hard on you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Look at us. We’ve come too far, been through too much already, to be acting like this. Rox, please. Stay.”
That made her snap. “Don’t say that! That’s what Don used to say. Don’t beg me. Don’t apologize to me. Don’t even be nice to me. I don’t deserve it…” She covered her face with her hands and turned away from Al. How could she explain it to him? There was no explaining it. She would have escaped the room then, but the phone rang.
She answered it automatically, not thinking. Luckily, it was only Laura.
“Rox? What are you doing answering the house phone? I called to let you know Lindy’s been transferred out of intensive care today. She’s doing really well. Tim just told me about it.”
“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”
“I can imagine. Only a few more days and it’ll all be over. Your case won’t get past the probable cause hearing.” Laura paused like she had something important to say and Roxanne felt that sickening dread spread through her in a way that was becoming all too familiar lately.
“By the way, did you read the sports page today?”
“You know I haven’t been reading the papers.”
“Barry is rejoining the team in Phoenix later today. A statement was released from the Celtics PR office on his behalf. Are you up to hearing it?
“Let me have it.”
“Says that due to the inordinate amount of interest and speculation of the media with regard to his involvement with the murder suspect in the Donald Boswell III case, they felt compelled to release an official statement on Barry’s behalf. The same one he gave to the police. It goes on to say that he wasn’t involved with you until recently and that it was a very casual relationship, never at any point serious, and in fact it was mostly business related. But it also says he thinks you’re innocent and that’s why he bailed you out and that he would continue to help in the future in any way he could. That’s all he’s going to say on the subject, and he won’t talk to the press about anything, including basketball, if they keep asking him about you.” Laura finished.
Roxanne took a deep breath. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her gut clenched and unclenched as if it weren’t sure how to feel. She knew all this, but hearing it comforted her and upset her at the same time. It would always be that way with Barry.
&
nbsp; She spoke after steadying herself. “That’s the official line, all right. It’s the unofficial one too.” She signed off the phone with Laura after making her promise to visit later.
The doorbell rang and her first thought was that one of the reporters had gotten up enough nerve to risk it. Al answered while she waited with Bonnie, hovering in the hallway near the door. It was a messenger delivering a large envelope for Al. He was cautious at the door, well past paranoid, Roxanne thought. What did he think the reporters were going to do? Send them a questionnaire in the mail? Or maybe he thought Penelope would resort to letter bombing.
He walked toward her down the hall. “You really are getting cabin fever if you have to run to the door and watch me open it.”
He sat back in his chair at the kitchen table with the envelope. She didn’t want to join him. She stood a few moments looking at her chair with disgust. She was transferring all her dislike for the situation onto her kitchen, and especially that kitchen table and chair.
“Let’s go up to my bedroom and talk.” The words were out before she realized what they implied. She looked at him with apprehension.
He looked up from the manila folder at her. It took a second for the comment to register with him. “Pardon? Your bedroom? You want me to come up to your bedroom with you? Rox, I’m not the enemy. I’m your friend. No need to lure me to the battle zone.” He looked back down at the papers he’d removed from the envelope. The only sign that the invitation had shaken him was the twitch of tension in his shoulders. But she saw it.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I have a desk and chairs up there. I’m sick of this kitchen is all.” That was as close as she was going to come to explaining herself. She didn’t mean it the way he’d interpreted it. “And what the hell kind of crack is that about my bedroom being a battle zone?” She smiled in spite of the apparent insult.
He looked up at her again as she finally sat down. He studied her face for a moment, his eyes growing serious. Then he sighed deeply. He cleared his throat. “I was joking. I knew what you meant about getting out of the kitchen. This is the report from the detective about Mark. We know where he is. As we suspected, he’s in hiding. Any reason why he should be hiding?”
