Her Mistletoe Protector(24)

"All right, go ahead, Joey." At least carving would help keep her son occupied. She crossed the room to glance over Nick's shoulder at the computer screen. Only to be distracted by the scent of his shaving cream. It was strangely comforting and she had to fight not to put her arms around him.

Nick seemed impervious to her quandary. "Do you recognize anyone in the photograph?" he asked.

Forcing herself to concentrate, she narrowed her gaze on the photo. Suddenly, her stomach clenched with recognition. She pointed at the screen. "Frankie Caruso."

"Yeah, with the Chicago mayor and his wife," Nick murmured. "The mayor's wife was recently diagnosed with diabetes, and this was a fund-raiser to support research for a cure."

Another link to diabetes. "I'm sure Frankie is the one who hired Morales," she said. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

"Maybe." Nick jammed his fingers through his hair. "I need to go through the entire timeline from start to finish. There has to be something we're missing."

"I'll help," she offered. Her phone rang and she pulled it out of her sweatshirt pocket, surprised to see there was still one bar of battery left. Wincing, she saw the caller was Edith. It seemed like days since she'd spoken to her assistant. "Hi, Edith, how are you?"                       
       
           



       

"I'm putting in my notice," the woman said in a crisp tone. "You should have told me that you intended to sell off your shares of the company, Rachel. If I'd have known, I would have looked for somewhere else to work."

The reproach in the older woman's tone only sharpened her guilt. "I'm sorry, Edith, you're right-I should have told you. But why are you leaving? I'm sure Gerry could use all the support he can get."

"Gerry Ashton is not you, Rachel. Nor is he your father. I've been loyal to the both of you, but now that you're both gone, I see no need to stay on."

She was flabbergasted with Edith's decision. "Maybe you should take some time to reconsider," she said. "Gerry has been with the company for seventeen years-I'm sure everything will be fine."

"I've made my decision." Edith's tone held an underlying note of steel. "And I'm telling you because you're the one I was working for."

Rachel sensed there was nothing she could say to talk her senior assistant out of resigning. "I'll make sure you get all your vacation pay, Edith," she said, even though technically she didn't own the company anymore. Surely the payroll staff would still listen to her. "And if you change your mind-"

"I won't. Goodbye, Rachel."

Rachel disconnected from the call just as her phone battery gave out.

"Edith resigned?" Nick asked with a dark frown.

"Apparently." She sank into the seat next to Nick, trying to grapple with the news. "I feel terrible about this. Edith has been with the company for thirty years."

"It's not as if you sold off your shares on purpose," Nick reminded her gently. "This isn't your fault."

Yes, it was her fault, but she couldn't deny that she'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant getting Joey back safely. Up until now, she'd convinced herself that her life was the only one impacted by her decision.

She took a deep breath and met Nick's sympathetic gaze. There was nothing she could do now but move forward. "Let's work on that timeline...."

* * *

Nick wanted nothing more than to reach over and pull Rachel close, to comfort her. She looked as if she'd lost her best friend, and maybe she had. He suspected Edith had been her rock, especially after her father passed away.

There wasn't anything he could say to her to make her feel better, so he took her cue and agreed to work on the timeline.

"I need paper," he muttered. He'd prefer a large whiteboard or bulletin board, but paper would do in a pinch, far better than the computer.

"I think there was some in the bedroom, I'll be right back." Rachel returned a few minutes later with a tattered notebook. "Sorry, but this is all I could find," she said.

"Perfect," he said, taking the notebook from her hands. Their fingers brushed and he tried to ignore the tingling that radiated up his arm. This wasn't the time or the place to think about kissing Rachel again. He tore several sheets of paper out and set them side by side.

"We should probably start with the failed diabetes medication," Rachel said.

He nodded in agreement. "Do you remember the dates and times of the letters and phone calls?"

She reached over and took the pencil from his hand to write in the information. Her nearness was disconcerting. "And here's the date I called you," she added.

"And the same day, you took Joey to his basketball game," he said.

"Yes, that's the part that has bothered me." She scowled at the timeline. "I don't think I was followed, for sure not by the black truck."

Nick had to concur, since he'd followed her and had made sure no one had followed him. "It seemed the kidnappers were one step ahead of us for the first twenty-four hours-until we exchanged your cell phone."

"You thought they were tracking the GPS in my phone, right?"

"Was it a company phone?" he asked, slanting a sideways glance at her. "Or your personal phone?"

"It was a company phone, which also served my personal needs. I saw no reason to have two phones, and it's handy to have ready access to my work email at all times."                       
       
           



       

"Okay, so who would have access to the serial number for your company phone?" he asked.

Rachel shrugged. "Lots of people. Edith, for sure, and probably some of the staff in billing."

"Do you have an informatics department? Who takes care of interfacing your work email to your phone?"

"We contract with a small company, called Tech Support Inc., and they come in once a month for a day or two to update the computers, scan for problems, that kind of thing."

He'd never heard of Tech Support Inc. but a quick internet search didn't reveal anything alarming. "How long have you had a contract with them?"

"For several years," Rachel responded. "I hardly think they would give out private information like that."

"They might to someone within your company," Nick countered. "Say for instance, Karl Errol?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it. Karl is a researcher-wouldn't they see that as suspicious?"

"Not if he gave them a good reason. Or if he had someone else call, pretending to be you or Edith." He stared at the timeline for a moment. "I think it's clear that whoever tracked your cell phone was someone from inside your company, Rachel," he said slowly. "Not Frankie Caruso."

* * *

Rachel's emotions rolled up and down like a yo-yo, and Nick wasn't helping matters. First Frankie was involved, and then he wasn't. The kidnapping was related to her failed diabetes medication, and then it wasn't.

Her head ached and she pressed her fingertips to her temples, trying to ease the pressure. "I'm not sure what to think," she said finally. "Maybe we should go back to Chicago, see if we can talk to Karl."

Nick was still entering dates and times into their makeshift chart. "Josie's suicide is bothering me," he muttered half to himself. "Would make more sense if it was actually murder staged to look like a suicide."

That caught her attention. "Why?"

"Because suicide indicates she felt guilty about something," he explained. "If she was part of the cover-up related to the failed diabetes medication, then okay, I could buy that idea. But if she stumbled onto the truth and intended to come talk to you about it, then I'm more inclined to believe it was murder."

A chill snaked down Rachel's spine. "The meeting I was supposed to have with Karl and Josie the day I received the threatening letter and called you-it was set up by Josie. She told me that she had something important to discuss with me and insisted that Karl be there, too."

"That fits with my homicide theory," he said. "Do you think Edith knows anything more about what Josie wanted to discuss with you?"

"I doubt it. Edith was more concerned with fitting all the necessary meetings into my schedule. She wouldn't ask Josie why she wanted to talk to me. If Josie said it was important, then she'd find the time to make it happen."

Nick grimaced and then turned his attention back to the timeline. She found it hard to concentrate, though, too preoccupied by the idea of her employee possibly being murdered.

How Nick worked homicide cases on a regular basis was beyond her comprehension. She admired his strength and his dedication, more than she should.

She glanced over to the sofa and frowned when she didn't see her son sitting there. For a moment panic set in. "Where's Joey?"

Nick glanced up in surprise. "He was there a few minutes ago."

She jumped up from her seat next to Nick. "Joey?" she called, her tone sharper than she intended.