Playing the Game

by Stephanie Queen

  Melvin took the stand and was sworn in.

  “It’s simple. What I have here is a suicide note written by Donald Boswell and left for his mother to find.”

  This time the gasps came from the professionals in the room as well as the onlookers. Roxanne felt dizzy, as if the words sucked the oxygen from her brain. She blinked, struggling to think. She’d always known deep down that Don had committed suicide, but it took her a minute to realize fully the implications of what the man said. Was it possible? Had Penelope known the truth the entire time and yet tried to ruin her all along out of sheer hatred?

  Roxanne turned her head to meet the woman’s eyes. Penelope didn’t flinch. She didn’t bother to turn away. They understood each other perfectly. Funny thing was, Roxanne felt nothing for the woman, no anger, no hatred. The only thing she could muster, after all was said and done, was sympathy. And she was sure that would be the last thing the woman wanted from her.

  “The note must be verified by experts. Detective Turner, I trust you will take care of that.” The magistrate turned his attention to Roxanne. “In the meantime, in the interest of justice and in the interest of time, I would like to hear from Mrs. Boswell.” He ordered Penelope to take the stand.

  “Mrs. Boswell, is it true that you found this note which appears to be a warning of suicide from your son?”

  “Yes.” She spoke without life. There was no smugness, no sadness, no spark of determination or vindictive outrage left in her.

  “Can you attest to the authenticity of this note? Is this your son’s handwriting?”

  She looked up at the magistrate. Her eyes were glazed. She nodded her head. “Yes.”

  “Case dismissed,” the magistrate said and banged his gavel. He turned to Detective Turner. “Exhume the body and have another autopsy done, with special attention paid to the manner of death. We’ll hold a coroner’s inquest if need be, but I don’t think we’re looking at murder here at all.” The clerk magistrate rose and left the bench.

  The court was dismissed. The charges against her were dropped. Everyone spoke at once. The place was a riot of motion and chatter. But Roxanne stood still, staring blankly at the door at the back of the courtroom where Barry had disappeared from her life.

  The party atmosphere spread through Al’s office, showing in everyone’s faces, their laughter and the loud tenor of their voices. Roxanne looked around and even though all the jubilance was on her behalf, she didn’t feel the mood.

  Al and his secretary worked at popping the cork on a bottle of Moet. Roxanne figured his secretary must have gone out to buy it because Al hadn’t seemed so cocksure this morning that they would be celebrating. Everyone was there: Mark, Laura, Tim, Bonnie, Al’s staff. Harry was missing. And Barry Dennis.

  Laura brought a plastic cup full of the champagne in her direction. “This is great. I can’t believe you got off so quickly. But yes I can. And that’s not all. Harry’s on his way over. He has some good news too.”

  “What is it?” Roxanne asked without much enthusiasm as she took the plastic cup of champagne, but didn’t bother to drink it.

  “Let’s wait for Harry.” Laura stifled what looked like a long story and hugged her with sudden fury.

  “Wow. It must be good.” Roxanne chuckled as she hugged her friend back.

  Laura stood back from her with a serious look replacing the frown she used to wear. Not anymore. No frowns since she married Tim. Roxanne sighed.

  “I know it was tough for you today, Rox. But you have to try and forget about it all now. At least try and be happy it’s over.”

  “I’ll never forget it, since ‘it” is me.”

  Laura nodded her head in agreement and patted Roxanne on the back. “Guess the way Al handled things would give me pause too, but it was more courtroom dramatics than reality, honey,” Laura said as the two joined everyone at Al’s desk.

  “I should be celebrating the fact that I have the best, most supportive group of friends anyone could ever ask for.” She smiled at her best friend.

  Al beamed as he hung up his phone and spoke to her from behind his desk. “Rox, I just got a call from the clerk at the courthouse on the civil suit. He said the judge is dismissing the case and we should have the notice by next week.” He came around and walked over to join her group.

  “Great job. All my creditors are now happy. I can sell the house and pay you for all you’ve done.” She felt no excitement, but a sense of finality at least.

  “I’m glad to help. And glad to finally repay you for the help you gave me,” Al said in a quieter voice.

  Harry arrived then, freshly excited and all smiles. Al poured him some champagne. Roxanne still didn’t feel the urge to celebrate. If truth be told, she felt cool toward Al in spite of the fact that he’d won the day for her. Maybe she should be grateful, but she shuddered thinking about his courtroom tactics. The charges had been dropped, but she still felt guilty after all that was said.

  Harry lifted his plastic bubbly-filled cup in her direction. She nodded.

  “Everything’s going smoothly back at the hospital now, you’ll be happy to know,” he said. He glanced around the circle of friends. “I’ve been on the phone with a forensic accounting company. They’re coming in to do an audit starting next week. Rox they’re sure to verify what we already know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That Dr. Colin Evans has been misappropriating funds. We knew he’d been authorizing withdrawals from Dr. Oki’s Research Fund Trust Account to deposit into the Construction Trust Account. Seems his project got into trouble when he started putting the money into some poorly performing hedge funds. He tried to bail himself out with that high cost bank loan—the one coming due in May. One of the major donors found out and pulled out on his financial backing, leaving Colin with no way to repay his bank note.

  “This was about that time that you were getting the bad press on Don’s death. So rather than take a chance on losing his position, Dr. Evans decided to try and frame you. He sabotaged the NIH grant partly because he was afraid of their audit, partly because he knew you’d try and make up the money and then he could use it.

  “He figured he could get away with blaming you for embezzlement since your credibility was in the toilet from the murder rumors. I’m not sure if there’s a Penelope tie-in there. I’m still working on that.”

  “Where’s the connection?” Al wanted to know.

  Roxanne stood silent, trying to assimilate the story. She hoped there was a tie-in somehow. Because the idea that she would be attacked separately on two fronts by two different people at once was too much to bear.

  “The financial backer who withdrew his support was Roger Smythe,” Laura answered.

  “Don’s cousin?” Roxanne was stunned. It was all too much.

  “Now that you’ve solved that puzzle, Harry, you ought to have Sam put you on his payroll as an honorary detective,” Tim teased.

  “Laura did most of the work.” Harry was clearly proud and Roxanne leaned over and gave him a hug of appreciation.

  “With the kind of enemies I have, it’s a good thing I have friends like all of you.” She felt teary and blinked in panic. No way did she want to cry when they were all celebrating and happy. Even if they might assume her tears were of joy. She changed the subject and turned to Tim.

  “What about the fund for your research? Do you have enough money to go on?” Roxanne suddenly realized with horror that he might not.

  “We’re taking the money back from the construction project, of course. They owe us,” Laura said.

  “Construction has been stopped pending the audit findings. After we get back the money that was taken the fund will have no problem reaching the goal in May. By then we should be well on our way to getting approval for a new NIH grant,” Harry spoke up. He took a swig of his champagne as if it were a beer, then made a face at the taste. Al’s cell phone rang and he answered it. The rest of them moved away from his desk to let him talk.

&nb
sp; “You guys have been incredible,” Roxanne said. “I didn’t realize how much work you were doing while I was home loafing the past two weeks.” Roxanne gave them a teasing smile, but she felt sincerely stunned by them.

  Then she thought for the first time about what was ahead. Her teeth caught her bottom lip. The blank horizon that loomed in her mind scared her into action. She downed her champagne, flooding the future, for now, with the fizzing bubbles of her drink. She deserved a moment of reprieve. She could think about what the heck she would do next another time.

  “How’s Lindy doing, Doc?” She asked the question from nowhere, but with a dire need to hear the answer before she put the subject aside.

  “She’s well. She’ll be ready for rehab in a few days.” He met her eyes. But no one else was ready for an uncomfortable conversation right now either, so she dropped it.

  “Let’s all go out—on me,” Al suggested.

  They left his office, all except his staff. Roxanne was now ready to put this all behind her—maybe. She walked out the glass doors of the suite and sighed, letting out a shaky breath.

  She wished it wasn’t so hard to be happy.

  Maybe it was too much to wish for everything. What she had now would have to do—lots of good friends and her bills paid. It was plenty and it was everything she was going to get. It was everything she wanted, except Barry Dennis.

  Chapter 23

  “ROX, THAT was the real estate agent calling about your house,” Al said from the other end of the phone. “Looks like we have a seriously interested buyer.” She and Bonnie sat at the kitchen table having coffee. It had only been a week.

  “How serious?” She was skeptical. These last days she felt like a zombie, not in tune to her life. But this offer seemed to come too fast and out of nowhere. She hadn’t even realized her house was officially on the market yet.

  “Cash offer of $800,000.” Al sounded like he was grinning. She pictured him. “Not top of the range, but respectable.”

  Roxanne blew out a long whistle and looked at Bonnie. “That is serious. Sold. When do I need to move out?” She could hardly bring herself to think about staying another minute now.

  “It’ll have to be soon. Cash deals move pretty quickly, but I can probably get you a couple of weeks. Maybe more if you want.”

  “No don’t bother. I’ll move tomorrow,” Roxanne said not bothering to hide her relief. She glanced at Bonnie. The old woman nodded.

  “I can move into Laura’s apartment. It’s been sitting empty since she got married and the rent’s paid till the end of February,” she told Al and ended their call.

  Then she looked over at Bonnie. Bonnie’s face was unreadable, but Roxanne sensed some recognition in the woman of the inevitable.

  “Still as impulsive as ever, I see?” Bonnie shook her head. “Looks like I ought to buy that plane ticket sooner than later.”

  Roxanne pulled out of the parking garage of the high-rise condo where Laura used to live. This was it. Al said the papers were ready to sign to sell the house. Somehow that act would have even more finality to it than her victory at the probable cause hearing.

  The juices in her stomach kicked in as she pulled onto the highway heading north of Boston. Even though she complained to Al at first, she supposed it was fitting that she return to the scene of the crime one last time. She would go back to the house to sign it away. She hadn’t been back since the day after she accepted the offer. She packed a few personal things and the movers had done the rest.

  Bonnie didn’t hesitate to move back to Chicago. Her departure had been painful, but Roxanne felt relieved at the same time. She could no longer afford to depend on the old woman, nor could she afford to support her. And Bonnie needed some rest. The ordeal of the last six months had taken a toll on the older woman.

  At the airport, Bonnie’s parting words were, “You’ll feel relief soon. With me gone, it’ll be like having a thorn removed from your side.” Roxanne smiled now, remembering.

  Pulling off the highway onto the coastal route to Marblehead, she turned on the radio. She needed the distraction as she got closer. Her palms were getting sweaty. She laughed out loud at herself.

  The radio was tuned to an all sports station. The sportscaster announced that the Celtics were on a roll with Barry Dennis returning to better-than-ever form since he’d taken time off for his daughter’s surgery. “Now both father and daughter are doing well,” the man reported. “The Celtics are looking toward the play-offs with the question now being a matter of home court advantage.” Roxanne turned the radio off.

  “Damn.” She swiped the lone tear from her cheek. She didn’t want to hear it, not even about Lindy anymore. She’d even gotten angry at Al the other day when he tried to tell her about the custody suit being dropped.

  This was ridiculous. She pulled up along the side of the road in front of the house. Her house. Don’s house. She sat and blew her nose. She stared at the dashboard a minute then thought she ought to sell her car too. But no, she patted the steering wheel. This car was hers. It would serve as a reminder of who she was and where she’d been.

  Not that she thought she’d ever need reminding.

  She stepped from the car and walked around toward the back deck. She saw Barry’s car in the driveway. The dream came flooding back to her mind with irrational clarity and terror. Her heart pounded. Her hand flew to her neck. She couldn’t swallow.

  Run Barry. The words were trapped in her throat. But her legs began working again and she ran to the deck out back. Why was she running? Had she gone insane? What was Barry doing here? These questions crashed through her mind as she found herself bounding up the steps two at a time in her three-inch heels.

  Then all at once she stopped. He stood leaning back against the rail, looking at her with a hard stare. She composed herself, or tried to, her heart still racing more from the sight of him than her run up the stairs. She realized she must look like a nut. She took some steps toward him.

  “What are you doing here? I thought….” She gestured toward his car.

  He raised a brow. “I’m buying the house.”

  The pounding of her heart returned with a vengeance. His words made no sense.

  He continued. “Al left the papers for us. You sign them and the money is yours.” He paused, watching her. His face was that unreadable mask she’d grown to love and despise at the same time. She remained mute. Her mind was a blank. Drinking in the sight of him was all she could manage.

  “You can still live here if you want. That’s why I’m buying it …” Now he was the one who’d run out of words.

  “But I don’t want this house. I was looking forward to getting rid of it finally.” The words rushed from her mouth the moment she understood. “I mean, it’s a kind and generous gesture…” She realized how ungracious she’d sounded. Her palms began to sweat even in the chilly air.

  “That bad, eh?” He seemed to want to say more. He stood up from the railing and stepped close to her then.

  She looked up into those vivid blue eyes and felt her heart pop into her mouth, filling her with emotion. He looked vulnerable.

  “Come inside,” he said, like he owned the place.

  “Are you really buying the house for me?” She paused when he would have moved them inside.

  “Yeah. I didn’t know you’d already moved out. I tried calling.” He pulled his arm around her. His eyes were wide with pain, his look more vulnerable than she’d ever seen.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you back. I bought the house for us.” The admission seemed to cost him.

  Her first instinct was to shut down the rioting emotions that threatened to drown her with hope and go back to her safe game. Her first urge was to scoff at him, but she bit her tongue and violently pushed herself past that point. It was easy when she kept her focus on his face. His face held the look she never even dreamed she’d see on a man’s face. But she needed one last reassurance.

  “No games?”<
br />
  “No games.” He half-smiled

  “Totally vulnerable?” She pushed.

  “Completely naked.” He quirked his half-smile. “Always have been where you were concerned. I’ve been fooling no one but myself.” He got serious again. “The team’s been winning, I’ve been playing great, Lindy’s been improving steadily. She and I are starting to feel like we belong to each other, but there’s been something missing. For Lindy, it’s her mother. I’ve been doing what I can to help, but there’s really nothing to do—except be her father.”

  “And for you? What’s missing?”

  “You.”

  “Because you need a mother for Lindy?” She had to ask. She held her breath.

  He pulled her inside the French door into the empty kitchen. He shut the door and pulled her against him as he leaned against the counter. She fell into him and his heat scorched her even through their clothing. He raised her chin until she could only stare into his eyes.

  “The truth is, I love you. The truth is, I also can’t see any other woman being a better mother to Lindy.” He paused. His mouth twitched with his tension.

  She licked her lips. She’d desperately wanted to hear these words, but it wasn’t so easy to believe.

  “But I want you first and foremost for myself. All to myself. Forever. Call me a selfish bastard, but I don’t want to share you. I don’t want you to belong to someone else—not even to yourself. I want you for mine.” He stopped and took a breath.

  She felt as if he’d sucked in all the air right from her lungs. Her mind spun and she struggled to get back on familiar footing. These were words she heard over and over from besotted men whose love she didn’t return. What now? Now she wanted the same from him, but that’s not what he was offering. He only spoke about taking.

  “And what do I get from you? Should I settle for what’s left after Lindy and basketball?” She spoke in a sure voice that she didn’t feel. Her insides quaked with fear at what his answer might be, and at her own decision. Holding steady for one more moment she said, “What makes you think you can give me what I need?”