Authors: Lisa Scottoline
Jill gasped for breath, sputtering, trying to come back, wanting so much to stay alive. She rolled her head to the side, choking and coughing.
Donator lay still on the floor beside her, face up. Dead. His eyes stared fixedly at the exposed rafters. His mouth was open, his lips a shocked circle. His arms lay at his sides. Blood poured from a gaping wound in his temple, pooling on the concrete floor around his head, like an infernal halo.
“Jill? Jill?” Victoria dropped the two-by-four and rushed to her side.
Jill could feel her heartbeat pounding, her gasps wracking her body, and her lungs beginning to function. Her throat hurt so much, and she tried to speak, but couldn’t.
Victoria bent over, gathered her into her arms, and hugged her close. Jill looked up into Victoria’s eyes, which shone with a tenderness they’d never held before.
“Are you okay?” Victoria asked, with a weepy smile. “Are you hurt?”
Jill shook her head. She managed a smile. She couldn’t say a word, but she knew what she thought, in her heart.
I was hurt, before this very moment. I’ve been hurting since the last time I saw you.
But I’m fine, now.
Chapter Sixty-five
Jill was only vaguely aware of everything that happened next as she faded in and out of consciousness, in and out of pain, in almost continuous motion. There were police, ambulances, then being strapped into a gurney with EMTs looking down at her with concern. They attached her to monitors, an IV bag, and at one point she cleared her aching throat enough to ask what she had to know:
“Can you call, about Rahul?”
“This is no time to worry about the office,” the EMT answered, then they were hustling her out of the ambulance and to the ER nurses in their patterned scrubs, all of them looking down at her with even more concern as they whisked her inside through the automatic doors.
Jill kept saying, “Call somebody, please. Please, call about Rahul.”
But they didn’t listen, either.
Chapter Sixty-six
Jill sat up in the hospital bed, stitched, bandaged, medicated, and finally safe, in the company of real, ID-producing FBI agents, Special Agent Anthony Harrison and Special Agent Gordon Kavicka. The bullet wound to her shoulder wasn’t deep, sutured with only a local anesthetic, and some pain meds had made her comfortable enough to meet with the FBI. The two special agents sat in chairs at the foot of her bed, dressed in dark suits, with striped ties and short haircuts. Victoria sat next to Jill on the bed in her torn jacket, and the cut on her cheek had been butterfly-bandaged.
“Can anybody tell me what just happened?” Jill asked, her throat aching. “Who was Donator, where is Cohz, and did somebody reach my office to ask about my patient, Rahul Choudhury?”
Victoria added, “Also, was my father murdered, and what did Brian have to do with it, if anything? Is he really undercover with the FBI, or were they lying to us?”
“Hold on, one question at a time.” Special Agent Harrison raised a hand, his expression grim. He was a tall, lean man with smallish brown eyes, deep crow’s feet, and a prominent cleft chin. “Dr. Farrow, we have a call in to your office, and we’ll let you know about your patient as soon as they call back. Now, as for what happened, I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can, on a need-to-know basis.”
Jill felt taken aback. “We need to know everything. We were almost killed.”
“Let us finish our jobs, then we’ll explain everything. You have found your way into an ongoing federal investigation. We’re within hours of making major arrests and indictments, and we cannot jeopardize anything. An investigation as large and important as this one requires countless man hours, budget dollars, and hard work.”
Jill didn’t interrupt him to say how much he sounded like the fake FBI agents.
“For now, we’ll tell you only the information you need to know, and we expect you to treat the matter in complete confidence. Beyond this circle, we depend upon you to say nothing to any friends or neighbors, and explain your injuries by saying that you were in a car accident. Dr. Farrow, your fiancé, when he arrives, must also keep it confidential.”
“He will.” Jill hadn’t spoken to Sam, but evidently the FBI had.
Victoria leaned over. “Special Agent Harrison, can you please tell me about Brian? Is he out of surgery, and is he one of you or not?”
Special Agent Harrison cleared his throat. “Brian works with us. He’s awake, and we expect a full recovery.”
“Thank God.” Victoria brightened, and Jill touched her shoulder.
“There’s good news.”
Victoria nodded. “But who is he, really? Is he even a lawyer?”
“I can’t answer that, yet.”
Jill thought back to the ER room, with the fake FBI agents. “Cohz and Donator knew he was undercover. How did they know?”
“I can’t answer that, at this time.”
“So who were Donator and Cohz and why did they try to kill us?”
“I can’t answer that, either.”
“Don’t we have a need to know that?” Jill tried to keep her temper, but it wasn’t easy. “What if Agent Cohz, or whoever he was, comes back to try to kill us? Or did you catch him?”
Special Agent Harrison hesitated. “Dr. Farrow, the man who told you he was Special Agent Cohz is dead.”
“What? How?” Jill asked, shocked. “The EpiPen wouldn’t have killed him, even in the carotid. It’s only epinephrine.”
“Apparently, he had a heart condition, and it caused a heart attack.”
“Oh no.” Jill flashed on the scene in the car. “I didn’t know, he was so young. It wasn’t supposed to kill him.”
“We’ve already discussed this with the local authorities, and you won’t be charged, of course. Either of you. It was self-defense.”
Jill felt stunned. “But I’m a doctor.”
“He would have killed you both without a second thought.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t make it right, for me. I took an oath.” Jill felt a wave of guilt, and Victoria took her hand.
“I killed a man today, too.”
Jill looked over, feeling for her. “But you saved me.”
“We saved each other,” Victoria said, squeezing her hand. “We’ll help each other through this, like you said. We’ll get through it, together.” She turned to Special Agent Harrison. “Was my father murdered?”
Special Agent Harrison pursed his lips. “I can’t answer that. I’m sorry. You don’t need to know that—”
“The hell I don’t,” Victoria snapped. “I
do
need to know that. My sister needs to know that. He’s our
father.
”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t share that information with you at this time.” Special Agent Harrison glanced at Special Agent Kavicka, then back at Victoria. “When this is over, you’ll see why.”
Victoria squeezed Jill’s hand. “I don’t understand any of this. Why did my Dad have a double identity, and why was Brian undercover? Was it because of my Dad? Was Brian just pretending to be my friend?”
Special Agent Harrison cleared his throat. “Ms. Skyler, you can discuss that with Brian yourself, but not tonight. We need to debrief him.”
Victoria turned to Jill, abruptly. “Oh, no, we didn’t call Abby. Should we call her and tell her to come home?”
“No, not yet,” Special Agent Harrison interjected. “She’s safer out of the picture, and you must wait until after we’ve made the arrests to tell her anything.”
Jill thought of Megan, stricken. “Is my daughter in danger? She’s with a friend of mine.”
“We know exactly where she is, and she’s in no danger. We have a team stationed at the Feehans’ house to protect her.”
“How do you know where she is?” Then Jill realized something. “Have you been following me? Are you the ones with the black SUV?”
Special Agent Harrison shook his head, his lips a flat line. “Again, I can’t explain that to you, at this time. When everything is resolved and things become public, all of your questions will be answered.”
Jill couldn’t take no for an answer, not after today. “Did Nina’s husband really kill her? Or was she murdered by Cohz and Donator?”
“Again, after the grand jury meets and the indictments come down, I will meet with you and explain everything.”
Jill felt sick at heart. “Did I lead them to Nina, can you tell me that? Did I get her and her husband killed?”
“Again, I can’t answer.”
Jill had too many questions that couldn’t wait. “Let me tell you what I figured out, and maybe you can confirm or deny. My ex-husband, William Skyler, also known as Neil Straub, was getting inside information from Nina D’Orive about upcoming Pharmcen recalls and selling it to a man named Joe Zeptien, who sold the stock short and made a ton of money.” Jill glanced over at Victoria, whose face was downcast, her emotions clearly in turmoil. “They did it on the Deferral and Riparin recalls and they were about to make a fortune on Memoril. But somehow it all fell apart. Why? Why kill anybody? How?”
“I won’t confirm or deny. You don’t need to know.”
“But it’s all in the laptop, oh, wait.” Jill remembered, with a start. “The laptop and my notes are inside my car.”
“Don’t worry, we’ve already obtained the laptop. It took some doing, out of the wreck, and we think we can get it operating again.”
“Good.” Jill looked over at Victoria, but she sat slumped on the bed, crestfallen. Jill turned back to the FBI agents. “Special Agent Harrison, can’t you tell us if William was murdered, and who did it and why? It may be a case to you, but it’s Victoria’s life, her family. She
needs
to know, in the truest sense of the word.” Jill heard herself talking and realized that she was talking about herself, as well. “She’s going to spend years trying to figure out who her father was. That process is healing, but if she doesn’t know the truth, she can’t heal. I know, I’ve lived it.”
Special Agent Harrison paused, his dark eyes shifting to Victoria, his expression less guarded. “Ms. Skyler, I’ll make you a promise. As soon as this is over, I’ll explain everything. You lost your father, but there are other victims, and more potential for danger. Look at what happened today, to you both. Let us finish our job, and it will all become clear.”
“Okay,” Victoria said, after a moment.
Jill gave in, only reluctantly. “But what about our safety? Are you protecting us all?”
“Absolutely. We already have a team outside your house.”
“How do we know that? Will we see them?”
“No, not if they’re doing their job correctly. Trust me. We have you covered.”
Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and a young FBI agent stuck his head inside the room. “Special Agent Harrison, sorry to interrupt you.”
“What is it?” Special Agent Harrison turned to him.
“You wanted to know if a call came in about Dr. Farrow’s patient, Rahul Choudhury.” The young FBI agent held out an open cell phone. “This is it.”
“Yes,” Jill answered, her heart in her throat. “Please, let me have that phone.”
Chapter Sixty-seven
“Is it someone from my office?” Jill held her out her hand and tried not to notice it was trembling.
“No, it’s a woman,” answered the young FBI agent. “She’s crying, and she has an Indian accent, so it’s hard to understand.”
God, no.
“Please give me the phone.”
“Okay?” The young FBI agent looked at Special Agent Harrison, who nodded, annoyed.
“Give it to her, would you? It’s her call.” Special Agent Harrison rose and walked to the door, and Special Agent Kavicka did the same, following him. “Dr. Farrow, we’ll leave and give you some privacy.”
Victoria looked over. “Jill, should I go, too?”
“No, please, stay, it’s okay.” Jill took the phone. “Dr. Farrow speaking.”
“Oh my God, oh my God,” said a woman, talking fast, her voice choked with tears.
“Who is this?” Jill asked, stricken. “Who am I speaking to?”
“Oh my God, it’s Arami, Rahul’s auntie, oh my God, oh my God!”
Jill braced herself. “What happened to Rahul? Please, tell me.”
“Rahul is at the hospital now, Padma didn’t take the flight.” Arami cried happy tears. “He’s in stable condition, now. He’ll recover from his infection. He’ll
live.
”
“Thank God.” Jill felt a gratitude and joy spreading through her very bloodstream, a sensation she couldn’t medically explain.
“Yes, yes, Padma is with him, she just called me. My sister, her mother, is fine, too, in Mumbai.”
“What happened? Did Rahul’s grandfather reach Padma?”
“No, no, no one could reach her, she had turned her phone off, for the plane.” Arami started to calm down, her words slowing and her tears subsiding. “Padma boarded the plane with Rahul and the boys. They were going to take off!”
“Who stopped them?”
“Someone went to the airport, they
drove
there. They got pulled over for a speeding ticket, then they got a
police escort.
They got Padma and the baby off the plane, right before it left for Mumbai.”
“Who did that?”
“Your office manager, Sheryl.”
“
Sheryl?
” Jill asked, astounded.
“She’s wonderful woman, that Sheryl. A
wonderful
woman.”
“She is?” Jill caught herself. “I mean, yes, she is.”
“I must go, talk to you later. Thanks again, so much.”
“Thanks for calling, and please tell Padma to call me, if she wants.” Jill hung up just as there came a knock, on the door.
Chapter Sixty-eight
“Honey, are you all right?” Sam gathered Jill in his arms, and she hugged him back, her eyes brimming, her heart full of love.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Don’t cry. I’m here now, it’s okay now.” Sam held her close, and Steven stood behind him, looking like a mini-Sam, complete with thick hair, sharp blue eyes, tortoiseshell glasses, and tan Dockers.
“Thanks for coming home.” Jill wiped her tears and got in control, and Sam released her, his pained gaze appraising her injuries.
“What did they do to my girl? My God, it looks like it hurts, so much.”
“No, it’s not too bad.”
“I’ve got nothing left to kiss.”
“My lips are fine,” Jill blubbered, but the words weren’t out before Sam gave her a soft, sweet kiss.