by Kay, Arlene
“I forgot to tell you,” Lucian said. “I spoke with Katherine today at my club.”
“Katherine? I’m drawing a blank.”
He gifted me with his winsome smile. “Mrs. Cotter. You know, Ian Cotter’s wife.”
“Ah. Did she brandish a weapon or have anything valuable to say?”
His grin widened. “No weapon, but she had plenty to say. According to her, Ian was inoffensive, harmless. Played around but always crawled home to her begging forgiveness. She swears the womanizing was part of his public persona. You know, a way to entice the clients.”
“Yeah. I love a man who knows how to beg.” I smiled sweetly. “Ian must have been some actor, enticing Tatiana Lake right into her bed.”
Lucian made a quick turn despite the squealing tires and clenched fists of other drivers. “Kat said that Ian frequently got threats from boyfriends and husbands.” He shrugged. “It was par le cours for him. No big deal. Most of the time they’d have a beer together and part friends. That’s how they handle these things in France. Many men have a mistress or someone on the side. Women do, too.”
“Interesting. Any suspects? Guys who don’t like beer, for instance?”
“Not really,” Lucian said. “Although one guy, older, wouldn’t play ball. Ian worried a bit about him. No name, but like most of them he was wealthy.”
“Was she telling the truth?” I asked. “That’s pretty sensitive information to blurt out to a stranger.”
His smile was priceless. “Did I say that we were strangers?”
“No, of course not,” I stammered.
I’m a woeful interrogator. Nosy questions and sly hints give me hives. What if he thought I was jealous or possessive? Nothing could be further from the truth.
“Kat is a sensitive woman,” Lucian said. “Losing control the other night embarrassed her. She has no love for Margaret Cahill, although she didn’t say why.”
“I can think of a dozen reasons, especially if the good doctor was toying with Ian.”
Lucian swung into a space on the street adjoining CYBER-MED just as Candy alighted from a cab wearing a media savvy red power suit with subdued black piping. Without much effort she’d nailed it, a serious but stylish venture into corporate America.
I gave Della the down-stay command and wiggled out of my seatbelt. “Just one more thing,” I told Lucian. “This is America, not France, and I don’t buy Mrs. Cotter’s blasé act one bit. If she loved her husband, she cared about his carousing. Believe me.”
We locked eyes. “A woman like you would not tolerate that, my Elisa, but not everyone is so strong.” Lucian walked over and opened the passenger side door. “Come. We must discuss this some other time. Ms. Ott awaits us.”
Despite the publicity, the media were conspicuously absent. I scanned the streets around CYBER-MED, looking for telltale vans, helicopters or lurking scribes. In the scheme of things, I suppose our story was less compelling than war, terrorism or economic ruin unless you had an IMD inside your body.
There was no welcome party to greet us in the lobby, just a lone guard whose dour expression dared us to make a false move. He handed Lucian a visitor’s pass and waved the three of us toward the elevator.
“Meg must be expecting you,” I told Lucian. “That woman is on the ball even when a crisis looms.”
Candy snorted. “Let’s just hope she hasn’t booby-trapped the elevator. Arun said she doesn’t like you, Betts.”
“Really? Boo hoo. I can live without her approval. Need I mention that she’s our junior partner?”
That’s another lesson that Kai had taught me: stop agonizing over other people’s opinion of you. It’s one obsession that can drive you nuts.
We reached the executive floor without mishap. When the elevator doors opened, Tony Torres awaited us. He was friendly enough, but something about his looming presence disturbed me. He was always there, lurking on the fringes of CYBER-MED like a migraine.
“Sandman! Great to see you, guy.” He gave Lucian a man-hug and lowered his voice. “Watch your step in there. They’re on the warpath. Sent me down to the lobby to wait for the cops. Just what I want to do. Maybe a change at the top wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
Candy glanced at his muscular hindquarters as he retreated. “Wow, that Tornado stays in shape. No loafing around the donut box for him. Stairmaster all the way.” She strode down the corridor, stilettos clicking , knocked briskly at the conference room door and glided in with Lucian and me trailing in her wake.
It was all quiet on the meeting front. Meg sat with her ankles crossed like a superior student awaiting praise. Her husband’s eyes never left her. Carter snarled a greeting and inched closer to his wife, angling his body as if to shield her. Arun, his fingers flying over the keyboard, worked his iPhone. He glanced up, eyes aglow, when Candy entered the room.
“How are you?” I asked. “We came as soon as we heard. Maybe with some contingency planning …”
“Don’t worry, Elisabeth. Everything’s under control.”
Meg’s voice was calm, friendly even. Was her euphoria natural or chemically induced? I’d expected something different, a war council, not a slumber party.
“Aren’t you worried?” Candy asked. “CYBER-MED just imploded. By tomorrow every client will pull up stakes.”
Meg’s smugness irritated me. This was no trivial matter to dismiss or will away. The survival of the company, our company, was at stake.
Lucian chose a corner seat. He was a lynx, languidly stretching his long, elegant limbs as he surveyed his adversaries with practiced ease.
“I hope you’re satisfied,” Carter growled my way. “You had to do it, didn’t you?”
“I beg your pardon.”
“The video. You had to tip them off.” He held a snowy linen handkerchief to his nose. “Well, it won’t work. We’ve already turned down your offer, Mrs. Buckley.”
“You can’t talk to her like that.” Candy wheeled around, ready to pounce. “Betts had nothing to do with this.”
“Maybe we should just wait for Sergeant Andrews,” I said. “No sense in repeating ourselves.”
“Of course not, but the exodus you spoke of won’t be happening.” Meg patted her perfect bob. “I just finished speaking with our most prominent client. For your information, Secretary Chernikova will remain with CYBER-MED. Once that word gets out, the rest will fall in line.”
Everything made sense. Meg, the master tactician, had called in the big guns to save her. Why dither when you have both right and might on your side? Richard Chernikova had paid his debt, but at what price? It might cost him his life.
“What about the murders? Tommy died to prevent more from happening.”
“Unproven, irresponsible nonsense.” Carter did his table-pounding act again. His antics must take quite a toll on the family furniture. I reacted by ignoring him.
“Let’s think strategically,” I said. “You need to listen to what Dr. Sand has to say, all of you. I commissioned him to check out the methodology of this scheme, assuming it exists, of course.”
Lucian discussed the same material I’d heard before. Candy gasped at the implications, Meg and Arun grunted politely, and Carter drummed his fingers.
“That’s all very illuminating, Dr. Sand, but your theories fail to link CYBER-MED to anything illegal.” Meg gave a tight little smile that was more like a dismissal. “I realize you ladies have controlling interest, but Arun and I know the medical community. Let us handle this for all our sakes.”
I value self-control even under difficult conditions. Deep breathing, yoga style, came in handy during tough times like this. Rather than savage Meg, I took a cleansing breath.
“My concern is for the victims past and present. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Not at all,” she said. “There are no victims, Mrs. Buckley, only suppositions.”
Candy didn’t practice yoga. She leapt right into the fray. “Now just one minute. Our friend Tommy was murdered.”
Arun leaned over and patted her hand. I didn’t trust him or even like him much, but I had to admit his concern seemed genuine. He stopped texting and cleared his throat.
“As a scientist I have to say this is disturbing. However, everything Dr. Sand mentioned can also have a less sinister explanation. Not everyone is a conspiracy theorist.”
“And yet,” Lucian interjected smoothly, “only today someone threatened Mrs. Buckley’s life.” He held up the plastic envelope containing the note. “Is this not disturbing?”
Before anyone could react, the door opened. Rand entered the room with Sergeant Andrews and Francie Cohen in tow.
“Excuse me, everyone,” Rand said. “He insisted on seeing you.” He lowered his eyes and slowly backed out of the room.
“Now see here,” Carter growled. “We want our attorney present for any interrogations.”
I had to admire Andrews’ poise. He was undeterred by the rich man’s tantrum. After motioning Francie to a seat in the back, he calmly faced our group.
Twenty-One
“Pardon the interruption, folks. This isn’t an interrogation. More of an inquiry, actually. Since your firm made the news, I have to follow up.” Andrews grinned. “Now, Dr. Sand here reports a threat to Mrs. Buckley. Things are heating up.”
“It’s nonsense,” Carter Cahill sniffed. “Poppycock.”
Andrews shrugged. “It may very well be, sir, but that doesn’t change the fact that a man was murdered, your colleague, Thomas Yancey.” He scrutinized each of our faces. “What can you tell me about this recording the victim made?”
Meg spread out her hands, palms up. “He had a very lively imagination, Sergeant. We all loved him, but Tommy had his quirks, as we all do.”
“I understand that, Doctor, but the legal guys tell me that tape is more than a whim. It’s what they call a dying declaration. That has some weight to it.” He nodded at me.
“You’re right,” I said. “The Federal Rules of Evidence allow it, even though it’s hearsay. Most states do, too.”
Carter gave me a sour look. “I’ve got my own lawyers, Mrs. Buckley, a whole team of them. Corporate guys, not makeup artists. They tell me we don’t have to answer any questions.”
Francie Cohen frowned and ducked her head. Her ringlets were especially shiny today. Score another hit for Candy. The atmosphere in the room intensified, even though the temperature remained crisp. Arun wiped his shiny forehead with a pocket square.
“Let me ask you, Mrs. Buckley. What do you think is going on here?” Andrews had a few smooth moves of his own. He threw that hot potato right into my lap.
I knew what Kai would have done—stood toe to toe with Meg, her cretinous hubby and anyone else who opposed him. I didn’t have Kai’s strength, but I’m no coward.
“Dr. Sand can explain things better,” I said, “but I believe that someone at CYBER-MED is a murderer, arranging targeted hits. My friend Tommy figured it out somehow and confronted that person. He died because of it.”
“Outrageous!” Arun exploded. “Where’s the proof? Show it to me, Mrs. Buckley. You studied our financial statement.”
Andrews smirked but stayed silent. He appeared to be enjoying the show.
I watched Meg carefully. She had folded her hands again in that faux schoolgirl pose and pasted a mask of compassion on her face. Fortunately, her eyes betrayed her. She was loaded and ready to fire.
“Sergeant,” she said calmly, “we must consider Mrs. Buckley’s situation. Having suffered two tragic losses in a year,” she turned toward me, “her reaction is only natural. As a medical professional …”
“Stop.” I rose slowly, deliberately, and approached the whiteboard. “Dr. Cahill’s wrong. It was three tragic losses, actually. She forgot my miscarriage.” My hands were steady as I held the marker. Lucian caught my eye and gave me thumbs up. “None of that matters now except to me. Let’s focus on the big picture. Dr. Rao is correct. The corporate books don’t have a ledger entry for murder. No one would go that far. I suspect there are at least two people involved, one insider and one outsider. That would make sense. Tommy knew the insider. He told us that on the video. It’s the only way to explain his death.”
“Wait just a minute,” Arun said. “You’re making an assumption here. Maybe Tommy’s death was collateral damage. You know, the unintended byproduct of another crime. We know someone stole that old lady’s car. Some kid, probably. I say he panicked and lost control of it. Check other crimes in the area that night, Sergeant. That’s where you’ll find him. Stop this nonsense about a high tech conspiracy.”
I turned toward the board and wrote down four names: Ian Cotter, Mary Alice Tate, Judge Jacob Arthur, and Thomas Yancey. I then added Richard Chernikova’s name with a question mark.
“Thomas Yancey loved puzzles. He was masterful at solving them. Somehow he linked these names to an unthinkable truth. Our task is to pool our skills and do the same thing.”
“Count me out.” Carter curled his lip at me. “Damned nonsense, that’s what it is. Is that what they taught you at Harvard, Mrs. Buckley? One pathetic woman’s fantasy.” He held his arm out to his wife. “Come on, Meggy. Let’s go call our lawyer.”
It stung, but I bounced right back. I was Wonder Woman, using my magic bracelets to deflect enemy arrows.
“I’ll help you,” Arun said, playing Prince Charming. “Tommy was my friend. We can probably get Rand to join in too, if he’s not too scared of Meg.”
Candy beamed at him and moved closer. Arun was in for a good night.
Before we started the exercise, Andrews stood and gathered his things. “You guys can do this without me,” he said. “Officer Cohen can help you.” He stabbed his bony finger at Francie. “I’ll expect a full report tomorrow.”
“You look disappointed,” Lucian said. “Did you expect more? A confession, perhaps?”
I refused to dignify his sarcasm. Actually, I had hoped for some telltale sign of guilt from someone. That was unrealistic. Silly. Fictional sleuths were lucky, but the rest of us had to stumble through reality scratching for clues. Maybe Carter was right. Perhaps I am pathetic.
Lucian took some getting used to. He’s pushy in the self-assured manner of gorgeous men everywhere, automatically making decisions for both of us without a second thought. It was familiar territory for me. Kai had possessed that same attitude in spades.
“What did you make of Meg’s reaction?” I asked. “She was so calm. Weird.”
His lips twisted in a half-smile. “You have to know le bon Doctor. She never shows her cards until the last play of the night, but she’s always thinking.”
“You seem to know her very well.”
A smug smile was his only response. It was preferable to Tommy’s seamy details about Dr. Meg in her leather bustier and whip.
Arun recovered quickly. He recited one of those textbook answers that consumed airtime without adding content.
“Naturally, we’re committed to accountability. Meg was right on top of things. She always is. I personally interviewed the operators on all three shifts. They’re highly reputable industry professionals of the highest caliber.”
“And?” Candy went on red alert. “Did you find anything hinky? Massive debt, unexplained wealth? You know the drill.”
Tornado locked eyes with Rand but stayed mute.
“Arun, I’m talking to you.” Candy can be merciless when the occasion demands. Tonight was one of those times.
Arun hemmed and hawed, unnerved by her withering gaze. “We started a thorough review, but the truth is, once the manufacturer paid off, we sort of let things slide. After all, the FDA only cares about the reliability of the device. We stopped investigating our people. Bad for morale and all that.”
“So,” I said. “Tommy might have alerted the murder.”
“Only if he or she worked at CYBER-MED,” Rand said. His cheeks flushed as a coughing spell hit him. No one wanted to go there, but I had no choice.
“Who w
as working here then? I assume you’d need high level clearance to access those two patients.”
“Three, actually.” Candy’s ferocity startled even Francie Cohen. She leaned back as if to avoid the anger radiating from my friend. “Don’t forget Mary Alice Tate,” Candy said. “Someone here leaked confidential medical information about her. I think it was a dry run. You know, get a payoff and see if anyone figures it out.”
Lucian’s French accent intensified as he responded. “I was here and had the necessary clearances. I assume everyone else here plus Dr. Cahill did as well.”
“Not Carter,” Arun said. “He’s strictly hands off, the silent partner type. Wouldn’t know a bit from a byte.”
Carter had been anything but silent tonight. A more doting husband was hard to imagine. How far would he go to protect his precious Meggy?
“Of course, anyone could team up and split the proceeds.” Candy assumed the mantle of avenging angel. I’d seen that persona emerge when other companies tried to screw with Sweet Nothings. Her transformation from makeup maven to femme formidable was truly frightening.
Della issued a low growl as she sensed tension in the conference room. She inched closer to me, training her gaze on the Tornado.
“Hey, what’s wrong with that mutt?” he asked. “Keep her away from me.” His eyes darted back and forth between me and my dog. Odd that a fifty-pound furball like Della could intimidate such a big man.
“Do you not like dogs?” Lucian asked. “That surprises me, Tony.”
Tornado wiped his brow with a tissue. “They’re vicious beasts. Dirty, too. Listen, are we about finished here? I’ve got a family, you know.”
“Of course,” I said. “I just want to confirm one more thing. Do we all agree that it’s possible to tamper with IMDs?”
“Technically possible, realistically improbable. Highly improbable, I must stress that.” Arun gave new meaning to the word pedantic. “You have absolutely no proof that this … this plot is anything other than a fantasy, Tommy’s fantasy and yours.”
