Boggs’s pale green eyes shone through his rimless, oval glasses. His lips moved without sound as his bony finger traced a column on the spreadsheet. When he reached the end of the report, he stacked the papers together and tapped them into a neat pile that he laid in front of him.
“I believe you are correct,” he said flatly.
Jackie edged forward. “Will you swear to that in court?”
A crease deepened between his eyes, and he pursed his lips. His thin, long hands came together in a praying position with the tips of his fingers touching his lips.
“Professor? Can you swear to it in court?” She had to push. Although brilliant, Frank Boggs was timid and skittish. Thankfully, Stone’s associate had deposed him. Gary would have eaten him for lunch. “The numbers can’t lie. You know that. I’ll enter this into evidence with or without your testimony. But having you explain it to the jury is necessary for the information to make sense.”
He furrowed his brow deeper, took a long breath, and blew it out. “We always had the winning argument from a statistics standpoint. The quandary, as you know, was the dearth of documentation showing the exact flow of funds. Knowing that something was inconsistent with the Italian Exchange trades opened the door. This shows that those trades never occurred. Instead, the money your clients invested was moved into these other Ashe accounts, not traded in Italy, as the trades slips indicated. Some of the monies were reconsolidated and transferred to these other outside accounts. Do you know who owns them?” He tapped his finger on the page where stars were inked next to certain account numbers. “That would be a truly interesting thing to know.”
“I don’t know. Yet.” She wondered if Brandon would know. She gathered up the papers and slid them into her messenger bag. “Thank you, Professor. I’ll be contacting you in the next day or two to set up our preparation meeting for the trial, which is set for four weeks from tomorrow.”
A quick handshake, and Jackie was out the door.
Daylight faded into the hazy gray of steam rising from the overheated asphalt. Despite the moisture-laden air, being on the bike brought back circulation after too many days holed up in an office. A detour for a ride through Druid Hill Park wouldn’t hurt now that the puzzle was partially solved.
Why hadn’t the Securities and Exchange Commission asked for any of this stuff when they audited Ashe a couple of years ago? Talk about incompetence. She could prove that the trades Ashe told its investor it made were fake. Instead, the money had been moved into other Ashe accounts. That was fraud. And that would win the case. She smiled more broadly, and her heart swelled. All she needed to do was figure out the money trail, and that would be the icing on the cake.
With a left-hand turn, Jackie entered Druid Park’s lush green space and left behind the sounds of the city’s traffic. Jackie glanced over her shoulder at the empty street. She pumped her legs to pick up speed. Tucking down low over her bike, Jackie flew down the hill and halfway up the next before pedaling again. Sweat ran from beneath her helmet down her temples. Her thighs burned from the effort to climb the hill.
All of the last week’s chaos began to drain from her mind and body. She focused on her breathing and the force she had to exert on the pedals to get up the hill. She sat back a little in her seat, gripped the handlebars, and powered up and over the hill. One more downhill and climb before she could take a break.
As she ascended the final crest, an engine revved somewhere behind her. Jackie peeked over her shoulder. A car barreled down the hill behind her. She checked her line, moving closer to the edge of the road. Despite the empty road ahead, the car zoomed by her. Its exhaust practically scorched her leg.
“Shit!” Her heart raced. Her hands, which gripped the handlebars tight, trembled.
Some people were such jerks about cyclists. This wasn’t the first time she’d been buzzed by some ignorant motorist. After their cheap shot, they usually drove on.
At the top of the hill, she alternately shook out the numbness in each arm. She reached down to pull her water bottle out but grasped at air. A long ride was not on her agenda this morning, and she hadn’t put a bottle in the cage. Even though it was ninety degrees out with 90 percent humidity, her mouth was as dry as the desert.
She lowered her head to check her bike odometer for the time. An engine revved ahead. The same gray sedan that had buzzed her stuck out from the parking lot. Waves of heat radiated from the roaring car.
What the fuck was that guy doing?
She neared the car and veered to the middle of the road to give him a wide berth. The driver gunned it, and the car shot out of the parking lot in front of her.
She squeezed her brakes hard, but it was too late. With a dull
thunk
, she hit the side of the car. The world turned upside down and around. A flash of pain ripped through her shoulder. The car disappeared from beneath her.
Catapulted toward the ground, she tucked her head instinctively. A grating feeling encompassed her head. Bursting lights flashed in a field of black like brilliant fireworks on a summer’s night. An explosion of pain rocketed through her shoulder. Someone had yanked her messenger bag off her shoulder.
A car door slammed.
The world turned black.
* * * *
Jackie blinked her eyes opened. A circle of faces floated above her.
“Don’t move, miss,” a man with a smooth, shaved head and blue shirt said.
“You’re cute,” she heard herself say.
The eyes in the circle of faces darted back and forth. A broad smile with gleaming white teeth spread across the face of the man in the blue shirt.
“Thanks, but let’s just focus on getting you to the hospital.”
His deep voice soothed the throbbing in her head. She croaked, “Hospital?”
The cute guy knelt next to her. Her brain started registering. That car had hit her. Run her down, actually. Everything hurt.
“Oh shit.”
Suddenly, there was too much saliva in her mouth. “I’m gonna—” She threw up all over the cute guy’s arm, and the world went black again.
When she opened her eyes, Jackie blinked against bright overhead lights. A woman in blue scrubs and a white coat stood over her and flipped through pages in a plastic binder. “Ms. North, my name is Dr. Stouffer. You have a concussion and some pretty ugly road rash on your shoulder and arm. I’d say you were extremely lucky. Your helmet saved your life.”
Jackie closed her eyes to minimize the glare of the blinding lights and let out a groan. A shock of pain raced from her head down her back. No time to melt down. She forced her eyes open. “Can I leave? I have some important work to do.”
“Ms. North, you won’t be doing any work today or for the next several days. You’ve sustained a brain injury. You need rest. I think it’s best to keep you overnight for observation. You had a few periods of unconsciousness. And though your shoulder is technically fine, it’s swollen, and I’m guessing pretty tender. It may have been slightly dislocated.”
Jackie contemplated the doctor’s recommendations. She hated hospitals, doctors, white coats, and empty promises that rest would help. None of them had ever helped her mother when the depression overshadowed their lives.
No. She could take care of herself best.
Time to turn on the charm. Persuasion was her profession.
“Doctor, I appreciate your concern, but I know I would be much more comfortable in my own bed. I promise to behave.”
“Ms. North, it’s not a question of where you would be comfortable. I can’t release you in this condition.”
Jackie pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn’t want to resort to using the “L” word. Mentioning her profession always gave her the upper hand against a doctor. “You can’t keep me here against my will. I’m a lawyer; I know my rights.”
The doctor bit her lip. “Who will be staying with you? You can’t be alone for the first twenty-four hours after a head injury.” After more flipping through the chart, she continued, “Oh, I see your significant other has been contacted and is coming to pick you up.”
“I don’t have—”
Gary Stone walked through the door.
“Jackie, oh my God, are you all right?” He was still wearing his suit, although his jacket was off and his tie loosened. He must have come from the office.
Jackie harnessed her energy and moved to a sitting position.
Stone turned to the doctor and extended his hand. “Doctor, I’m Gary Stone, Jackie’s friend. Thanks for contacting me.”
Stone’s silky, charming voice caused bile to rise in Jackie’s throat. She choked it down with a shudder. “You called him?” She winced at the volume of her raised voice.
The doctor flipped pages on the chart she held. “Ms. North, you had an ID sticker on the helmet the paramedics brought in with you. We routinely check our records for past history. Your information must have come up from a prior visit.” After more shuffling, the doctor said, “Here it is. Mr. Stone was listed as your significant other with your primary care doctor.”
Jackie’s mind spun, and she lurched sideways in the bed but caught herself. Had she not updated her health records in two years? “That was years ago. He’s married. To someone else. Look at his ring.”
“Calm down,” Gary said as he reached out to her.
“Don’t touch me.”
Gary smiled sheepishly at the doctor. “Can Jackie and I speak in private for a few minutes, please?”
The doctor’s gaze shifted back and forth between Jackie and Gary. “Ms. North?”
Exhausted and aching all over, Jackie slouched. Might as well deal with him now. “Just leave the door open.”
Stone took a step across the room and sat in the side chair a few feet from the bed. “I’ll stay over here. Now will you calm yourself and listen to me?”
His face was soft and open, his hair slightly messed up as if he’d been running his fingers through it. Almost always perfectly groomed, Gary only mussed his hair when seriously worried. “What do you want?”
“I came here because the doctor called. I was concerned. I don’t want anything from you. I’m just worried. And my warning from the morning—I wasn’t joking. They said it was a hit-and-run. Did you see who did this?”
What was it that Marilyn said? He’d trick her or manipulate her. She steeled herself against him. Jackie’s head throbbed with the effort of holding back emotionally. “Why should I tell you anything? You represent Ashe.”
Gary put his face in his hands, rubbed up and down, then pushed his long fingers back through his black hair. “Fine. But, this is your life. At what point are you going to understand that? You don’t understand what you’re playing with.”
“Oh really? I think I do. And I can thank you for it.”
“What do you mean? Are you insinuating I had something to do with this assault?” Red blossomed on Gary’s face and neck. He could bluff in court, but his true colors always revealed themselves to her.
Before she could answer, a scuffling sound and voices in the hall outside her room drew her attention. Marilyn came barging into the room.
Brandon Marshfield followed on her heels.
They were four people packed in a small room like an excess of clowns in the circus fire truck. At any other point in her life, she would laugh at this implausible crowd.
At once, everyone blurted out, “What are you doing here?”
Jackie pointed at Brandon.
Brandon and Marilyn pointed at Gary.
Gary pointed at Brandon.
After two seconds of stunned silence, Gary, Brandon, and Marilyn started bickering. Their voices escalated as they talked over each other.
“Stop!” Jackie held her hands out in front of her and squeezed her eyes shut against the pain in her head. “Shut up, or I will puke. That’s not a threat either.”
Gary moved first. He gently laid his hand on her leg. “I’ll go. You can call me if you need anything.” His voice cracked as he patted her softly. She cringed at his touch.
He turned to leave, then stopped at the door and faced her. “You have some serious choices before you.” With a quick glance at Brandon, he added, “Be careful.”
Jackie breathed slowly, hoping the fire inside her head would ease. Looking at Marilyn and Brandon, she weakly waved an arm their way. “You two. Explain. Make it fast. I want to dress and leave this place.”
The two rescuers looked at each other for a cue as to who would go first. Brandon nodded at Marilyn, who began, “I was so worried about you. Gary called and said you’d been run over by a car and were in the emergency room. We had no idea how serious it was. I prayed that you’d be safe.” Marilyn gently stoked Jackie’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Thank God you’re alive.”
Jackie closed her eyes and allowed Marilyn’s soft touch to soothe her pounding head. She wanted Marilyn to take care of her. Take care of everything.
Her stomach pitched. Her breath caught in her chest. She was ten again, and a car had just hit her kitten. She wanted to be held. Instead, her mother pushed her aside and maniacally cleaned the house, vacuuming the same spot over and over. “Just hold it together,” her mother had chastised her when she’d cried.
Holding it all together was becoming more and more difficult. She pulled away from Marilyn’s touch and opened her eyes, blinking away any trace of a tear. “What’s he doing here?” Jackie gave a small jerk of her head in Brandon’s direction and instantly regretted it. A wave of nausea flooded her.
“Mr. Marshfield had just arrived at the office looking for you to go over the documents when Gary called.” Marilyn looked at Brandon and met his gaze, holding the look too long. “He insisted on coming, and I thought it would be prudent to have someone with me, not knowing what condition you’d be in.”
“Mmm-hmm.” The world spun before Jackie, and little lights blinked behind her lids when she closed her eyes. She eased herself back down on the bed.
Brandon moved to the bed and crouched down to get close to her face. He took her hand gently in his and rubbed circles with his thumb. It was so comforting. “Jesus, you scared me,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Stone is right. This is your life.”
Although his gaze drew her in like a magnet to steel, Jackie turned her head away from him. “You sound like you were the one in the car running me down.”