Intrusion (9 page)

“Hmm,” Andrews said. “You sound just like Dr. Cahill. Could be reading from the same script.” He gave me a steely glare as if expecting an immediate meltdown and confession.
That routine came from a playbook too, every bad cop show of the past fifty years.

After a lengthy silence, Andrews continued. “You never answered my first question. What do you know about this Dr. Lucian Sand? Your new colleagues certainly know him.”

“He’s mega-hot,” Candy said.
“
Smokin
’.”

Andrews threw up his hands. “That’s not quite what I meant, Ms.
Ott
. I’m interested in this professor’s motives. He was banned from CYBER-MED, you know?
Caused all kinds of trouble.
I even heard that he clashed with Mr. Yancey.”

“Tommy?” My surprise was genuine. No need to pretend.

“Yes, Tommy. Dr. Sand got into a shouting match with him last month. Witnesses swear to it. This guy’s got quite a temper.” Andrews leaned forward.
“Might make him lose control.”

Candy’s face got a greenish tinge that no makeup could eradicate. I knew she was picturing our friend’s final moments as he fought for his life. I poured her some Pellegrino and slid it down the table. She’s a fainter, hits the deck on a regular basis. Fortunately, I’m not the fragile type. I’ve only fainted one time in my life. Under the circumstances, most people would understand.

“Is that all, Sergeant? We have several appointments this afternoon.” I rose and guided Andrews toward the door. “We’d like to make arrangements for a memorial service.
Any problem with that?”

Ichabod
Crane Andrews gave his cadaverous grin. Maybe it worked in Sleepy Hollow. In Boston, it was a nonstarter.

“In due time, Mrs. Buckley.
We’re not ready to release Mr. Yancey’s body yet.”

Candy gave a strangled cry. That was all the encouragement Andrews needed to get out of Dodge. As he grabbed his folder and slipped through the conference room door, he fired one final shot.

“Remember what I said, Mrs. Buckley. Stop screwing around.”

Eight

Candy clutched
the stem of her water goblet in a death grip. She looked wan, drained of her usual vitality. Luckily today was her product-sampling day. She assembled enthusiastic focus groups twice a month. These women — and a few men — vied to spend two hours with the legendary Candace
Ott
. They willingly slathered creams, conditioners and scrubs on their bodies in return for personalized advice and fantastic goody baskets filled with Sweet Nothings products. Volunteers signed up months in advance via Candy’s blog. It was what we business school types call “a win-win.”

I never participated. Because of my job I wore makeup, used hair products, the whole nine yards.
Noblesse oblige
and all that.
I endured it but never loved it like Candy and her minions. Modeling products was an integral part of our business strategy. Both Tommy and Kai had used our men’s line. Kai fluffed his luscious locks with a hint of gel, while Tommy stuck to pomade. They had been a toothsome duo, those two. My heart ached.

Andrews had done me a favor. It was strictly inadvertent, but there it was. I’d almost forgotten about those clippings Tommy had sent. Since Rand blabbed about Mary Alice Tate, I knew she was a client. My task was to determine if Judge Jacob Arthur, Ian Cotter or Richard
Chernikova
were clients of CYBER-MED. Tommy was never fanciful. He had sent those unadorned clippings for some reason. I thought about the disk. It was someone he knew, someone capable of murder.
Probably affiliated with CYBER-MED but maybe not.
After all, he’d made plenty of contacts at Sweet Nothings and elsewhere.

I checked the listings in my
iPhone
and phoned Meg Cahill’s private line. She answered on the first ring, sprightly as ever. We exchanged social niceties,
then
got down to business. There was much to admire about her, but I knew we could never become friends. That veneer of sticky pseudo-sweetness was a big turnoff. Kai always said my major liability as a lawyer was that I had no talent for duplicity. Nevertheless, I
simpered
a few bits of nonsense before closing the conversational gap.

“Listen, Meg, I’ll get right to the point. I know how important Tommy was to CYBER-MED.”

Wariness crept into her voice. “You’re so right.
Rao
and I contacted an executive search firm only today. Perhaps you can join us when we interview candidates, Elisabeth.”

“Excellent. Until then, you can make use of my services. Tommy and I had the same academic training, and we shared the financial duties at Sweet Nothings. Ms.
Ott
and I have already discussed it, and I can handle both positions with no problem.”

Meg Cahill gulped. She covered it with a weak cough, but I got the message. For once in her life this pillar of rectitude was speechless. Dare she risk offending the majority partners?
Probably not.
I sweetened the deal by dangling some bait in front of her.

“I’ll only be available on a temporary basis, of course. Assessing the business will really be useful.” I lowered my voice. “Confidentially, my partner is inclined to sell her shares once Tommy’s estate is probated, but she wants a fair settlement. I’m still undecided.”

Meg clucked sympathetically. “I understand entirely.”

 
“So.
How does that sound?”

“Exciting, Elisabeth.
Why don’t we meet tomorrow to discuss it?
Rao
is gone for the day, or I’d conference him in right now.”

“Great. I’ll be there at nine with Ms.
Ott
.”

~

“Are you crazy?” Candy asked. “What are you trying to prove?” She was working up to a major fit of pique. All the signs were there: wringing hands, mascara tracks, trembling lips. I’d seen it all before, and I knew how to handle her. I channeled my inner cherub.

“It’s not about me, Candy. Tommy sent me a message, and I plan to decipher it. Staying at Sweet Nothings won’t help one bit.” I patted her shoulder. “I won’t let him down again or you either.”

She closed her eyes and started chanting. Whatever mantra she used, it worked.

“OK. I get it, but that place might be dangerous.” She threw her arms around me and squeezed.
“Oh, Betts.
If something happens to you, I’ll die. I can’t stand any more loss.”

Loss.
I was an expert on that topic. Without Kai, I’d spent the past year only half alive, a zombie. Now after twelve months of wandering aimlessly, I was finally focused. CYBER-MED might be my destruction or salvation. Either way, it was put up or shut up time. I almost convinced myself that it had nothing at all to do with Lucian Sand.

Della curled at my feet while I spent the afternoon researching. There was a ton of material about Judge Jacob Arthur. Some of it was the society fluff endemic to the fabulously wealthy. His family owned one of the largest private banks in the nation, and Arthur dabbled in philanthropy. It shocked me to realize that I’d actually met the man several times. Kai was a major booster of Angel Memorial Animal Hospital, and a few weeks before he died we’d taken Della to their Furry Affair fundraiser. Jacob Arthur had been the enthusiastic, somewhat pompous master of ceremonies, presiding over the auction with a firm bang of his judicial gavel. Funny, I’d totally forgotten him in the filmy haze of that special night. I’d just learned that I was pregnant. Kai was so ecstatic that he couldn’t keep his hands off me. We had toasted with Pellegrino instead of Cristal and danced the night away. One month later Kai was gone and so was our son.

Focus, Lizzie Mae.
Focus. Bury the past.

When Candy poked her head in the door an hour later, she caught me dozing at my desk. No energy crisis for her. She’d adjusted her attitude and banished her tears. I could tell by the flawless makeup that adorned her face. Experience told me that any attempt to ignore her was doomed. In her manic state, Candy’s impervious to snubs and slights. She leaned over my computer and pointed.

“Well, what do you know? Look at the couple of the year.”

I zoomed in on the images section and gasped. There, bigger than life, was a photo of the late Judge embracing none other than Dr. Meg Cahill. What followed was a short blurb on implanted medical devices, which were hailed as a huge breakthrough in quality care.
Lots of kudos to the medical community, especially cardiologist Margaret Cahill.
According to her patient, Jacob Arthur, his pacemaker had saved his life more than once. The article coincided with the startup of CYBER-MED, a company designed to monitor such devices.

“My God, Betts, we’re two for two so far.
Arthur and Mary Alice.”
Candy shivered. “I’ll bet you’ll find that Ian character was involved too. Every woman I knew either trained with him or wanted to.” She winked. “They said he exercised every muscle in your body, even ones your husband hadn’t worked in years, if you get my drift.” She hugged herself. “It’s … it’s not really funny. I’m scared.”

“Hold on. Let’s analyze this thing calmly. After all, people with medical problems die all the time no matter how closely they’re monitored. Even if CYBER-MED had all of them as clients, the worst case would be negligence. That keeps lawyers like me in business. You know how cautious Tommy was. He was paranoid about lawsuits and probably wanted to run that stuff by me.”

Candy pointed an accusing finger at me. “What did Dr. Dreamy say about that?
Something about dangerous short-cuts, right?”

“I didn’t really listen to him. He’s a fanatic. I told you that.” I turned my face toward the window to avoid her gimlet eye. Why did I bother?

“Elisabeth Mae Buckley, you’re blushing.” Candy forgot her night terrors and spun me around. “What really happened last night with Luc? Come on, spill.”

“Nothing.”
I bent over my briefcase and grabbed a pen.

“I know. He made love to you, didn’t he? Frenchmen are so passionate.”

“Certainly not!
He only kissed me.” Oops. I was out of practice keeping secrets.

Those cat eyes glowed with excitement. Candy was more turned on than I was.

“Kissed you? Tell me everything.” She sat on the corner of my desk.

“It was a mistake. You know I’m not interested in men. I’m still with Kai.”

Her sigh filled the room. “Honey, I loved Kai too. He was special, but you can’t spend your life in mourning. You’ll be mummified like a museum relic. You’re young. You need a flesh and blood man, one who can give you babies.”

Aristotle called friendship a single soul dwelling in two bodies. Ari never met Candace
Ott
. Her rapacious soul trampled my tender feelings without a scintilla of guilt. Still, I couldn’t lash out. She was all I had.

“I’ll verify this tomorrow once I get settled at CYBER-MED. I’m sure it’s something innocuous.”

She fingered my silver letter opener. “Tommy’s dead.
Murdered.
That’s not innocuous.
And what about that tape?”

“Forget about that stuff. I’ll start with the financials tomorrow and see where that leads.” This time I was the one pointing a finger. “And you butt out. No more matchmaking or mooning over Lucian Sand unless you want him for yourself. Agreed?”

Candy gave a little half smile and nodded. “Dr. Dreamy doesn’t want me anyhow.
Must have a thing for redheads.”
She twirled a ringlet around her pinky. “Besides, I have a date tonight.
Arun
is taking me to
L’Espalier
. I’m so psyched.”

“Wow, you must have made quite an impression. That’s pretty pricey.”
L’Espalier
, the pride of Boylston Street, was one of Boston’s best restaurants. I hadn’t been back there in some time.

“What about you? Want to tag along?”

I chuckled at that one. “Yeah, it’s my dream to chaperone you. Go along and have fun. Della and I have some things to do here. And don’t worry. I’ll be very careful.”

~

There were plenty of items about Secretary of State Richard
Chernikova
, but none of them mentioned IMDs or CYBER-MED. I felt reasonably certain that he had an insulin pump and positive that his medical business would remain his own.
Chernikova
was a polarizing figure around the world, accused of being a Zionist or a cowboy, depending on the political bent of his enemy. Personally, I admired his blunt pragmatism. He had been a rousing commencement speaker at our law school graduation. Kai’s family had once owned a summer home near the
Chernikovas
, and he’d described them as solid people with a bent for public service. His endorsement was good enough for me.

At six-thirty Della gave me the eye. Herding dogs are masters of that. It helps them control the sheep and move the flock. Being a docile ewe, I gathered my things, preparing to leave for the day. Then the phone rang.