Chapter 7
A s the limousine made its way through the outskirts of Winchester, I felt my eyes fill with tears again. As much as I hated this place, it was the only home I’d ever known. Deep inside, I knew there was a better life to be had outside that town, but this was not the way I’d wanted to go…especially leaving my father behind.
I was already disgusted with this lavish display of wealth. Who would take a limo from Denver to Winchester and why?
The only words Whittier had said once we’d gotten to the car were to the driver, a man who called Whittier sir in response.
If he thought I was going to show reverence and deference to him, he was going to experience the shock of his life. I realized I was at his mercy and that I had promised to work for him, but I would not bow to him or be respectful in that way. He did not deserve my respect.
The limousine wasn’t necessarily obscene and, on the outside, it was barely bigger than a normal sedan. Inside, however, was a different story. The seats were large, made of black leather, and far more comfortable than the ones in my little car I was leaving behind. There were also soft purple lights lining the ceiling. Fortunately, there was a big console between our seats that would hold drinks as well as functioning as an arm rest—and I imagined it as a barrier, keeping us as far apart as possible.
Unlike a compact car, there was also plenty of room for Whittier to stretch his long legs.
As the highway grew dark as we left the town behind, I considered trying to sleep—but, even though it was late and I was exhausted, I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax enough. Besides, I thought I was ready to begin becoming a thorn in this man’s side.
“A limo, huh? Do you take this everywhere you go?”
He answered gruffly. “Of course, I don’t. I bring the limo to Leona’s events because she has the notion that all her other donors aspire to this kind of wealth—and she hopes seeing mine will somehow transform them into wanting to donate more than usual, hoping to display the appearance of having just as much money.”
And here I’d been thinking Dr. Rakhimov was smart. That sounded stupid—and I wondered if her real reason was that she hoped to be offered a ride in it sometime. Still, I was curious and knew I might be clueless. “Does it work?”
“I have no idea. But Leona always manages to come up with the funds she needs.”
“I thought those came from you .”
“Sometimes they do.”
We rode along in silence once more as I realized I hadn’t gotten his goat—not at all. Maybe I could figure out how to get under his skin after getting to know him a little better. But already I had the feeling that this man was not an open book. I’d have to puzzle it out without his help.
After a while, I asked, “Where are we going exactly?”
“To my house. In Denver.” So he wasn’t going to give me any more details than he already had.
“What will I be doing for you?”
“I haven’t quite figured that out yet. I’ll let you know in the morning.” I didn’t know if the fact that he hadn’t settled on a job for me yet was good or bad.
The car drove another couple of miles and I realized I still had an opportunity to plead my case. If he had any shred of decency in him, surely he would listen to reason. “Can I ask you a question?”
He kept his face focused forward, as if he couldn’t be bothered to make eye contact. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing this whole time?”
I ignored the jab. “Why are you guys so convinced I was the one who destroyed the lab?”
“Do you really expect me to answer that?”
“Yes. Because I already told you I didn’t do it.”
Finally, he turned his head to look me squarely in the eyes. “There are thousands of criminals in prison who also claim their innocence, even when all the evidence points to them.”
“But you heard it yourself. The evidence you have against me is circumstantial.”
“But compelling. The evidence being circumstantial doesn’t negate its credibility. I saw with my own eyes the culprits enter the simulation lab and you walked in there not two minutes afterward. You stayed in there long enough to have a conversation and then you left, securing the door behind you.”
“What? I didn’t talk to anybody or see anyone in there. I walked in expecting to see Jenna and there wasn’t anyone.”
“Oh, there were people. Are you trying to say the cameras are lying?”
“No.” Pausing, I sucked down a deep breath, hoping to keep my emotions from getting out of control. “I’m saying I only walked into the first room. After I got back from retrieving the programs from the print shop, I walked into the lab and called for Jenna when I didn’t see her there. Before I could do anything else, Dr. Rakhimov called me on the walkie-talkie, telling me to join them at the auditorium—so I left.”
“That explanation is flimsy at best.”
“But it’s true. And that was when I ran into you. Did I look like I was in the middle of some big conspiracy when you saw me?”
Even in the soft lighting of the limo, the intensity of his gaze was enough to make me squirm. I felt like a bug under a microscope, one he was scrutinizing, prepared to begin poking and prodding for answers.
“You seemed quite flustered. That’s not inconsistent with committing a crime, afraid to be caught.”
The man’s obstinance was infuriating—but I kept my cool as well as I could. “Actually, that’s how I feel most of the time working for Dr. Rakhimov. She’s demanding and a perfectionist, and I tried my hardest to live up to her standards.”
His response was a clenching of the jaw as he turned his face forward again.
But I wasn’t about to give up so easily. “And here’s the worst part—Jenna left the lab without closing and locking the door when I was at the print shop. I didn’t see you guys grilling her , asking her why she left it unlocked.”
Again, he turned to me and at least seemed to be considering my words. “How are we to know you didn’t tell her to leave it open when she left?”
Frustrated, I simply shook my head and looked out the passenger window so I didn’t have to face him anymore. It was easy enough to pin it on me and convenient, considering our families’ history. Jenna didn’t fit his narrative and so she was easily dismissed.
Or so I’d thought.
“But it’s possible that she was also an accomplice—and, unlike you, she might be willing to give up the names of the four vandals.”
“Hold on,” I said, finally realizing something important. “If you have them on video, why hasn’t anyone identified them and brought them in for questioning?”
“You know exactly why.”
Shaking my head again, I said, “No, I don’t.” It was only after I’d said it that I realized my voice had become shrill.
“If we’d seen their faces, we would have known who the perpetrators were—but they all wore ski masks, making it impossible to identify who they were.”
“But there are cameras all over campus. Couldn’t anyone see what vehicle they arrived in? There aren’t nearly as many students on campus in the summer, especially later in the afternoon. Surely there—”
“Enough!” he roared, causing a shiver to pulse through my body, reminding me that not only was this man my enemy, but he was to be feared. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that even the driver hadn’t been able to ignore his outburst. “I’m not going to play this little thought exercise with you when you already know the answers.”
Afraid or not, I couldn’t help myself. “But I don’t —”
This time, his voice was controlled, a low growl, each word punctuated carefully. “I. Said. Enough. ” All I could do was screw my face into a frown, and I turned my head away from him. At least I was feeling anger instead of sadness—because at least that felt like something I could act on.
As I stared out my window again, I breathed slowly, willing myself not to cry. In the meantime, I could hear the soft hum of a ringtone through a cell phone speaker. Although I wondered who he was calling, I wasn’t about to let him know I was curious or even cared.
After a voice on the other side greeted him, he said, “You need to question that insipid girl as well. Jenna, I believe her name is. She left the simulation lab open while the Miller girl was at the print shop. This other girl is probably also involved.”
This time I was able to hear Dr. Rakhimov’s muted voice. “We already came to the same conclusion, but she’s claiming forgetfulness. And I actually believe her.”
“I trust your judgment.”
Dr. Rakhimov said something I couldn’t make out, even though my ears were straining to catch every word. But I did hear the last thing she said: “We’re going to offer a reward to anyone who has information on the masked individuals.”
“Good idea. I don’t think I’ll be getting information here on my side.” After Dr. R. said something else unintelligible, he added, “I’ll be getting payment for the damages. That’s all I’m concerned about.”
I could almost feel his eyes on me, burning me with his scorn, his belief that I’d been the one to damage his precious lab. Still, I refused to turn around to face him.
How was I going to make it through ten years of this when I’d barely tolerated an hour?
In silence, we’d driven through Colorado Springs and Monument and the traffic had been light. Even though the skies should have been dark, the cities were lit up enough to make them appear far paler than they had been in Winchester or on the drive through the forested mountains leading us to the interstate that cut through Colorado from north to south along the eastern edge of the Rockies.
I had a feeling he would have no problems maintaining silence for hundreds of miles if he chose to. But my mind had been churning over all my worries since he’d ended his call with Dr. Rakhimov, and none of them had to do with my supposed involvement in the crime.
Regardless of what I thought of Sinclair Whittier or his family, I too was upset over the destruction of the simulation lab. Out of everyone involved in the unveiling of the space, I was likely the person who’d spent the most time working in there—and, despite the unsettling, even creepy, gazes of the mannequins, I marveled at the equipment and its capacity to teach students in a low-risk environment. I was vicariously excited for the health care students who were going to get to use it.
Removing me from my home was going to produce so many unintended consequences, and that was where my mind dwelled as the car continued north on I-25.
For instance, there was my stalled education. I wasn’t so much stressed that I wouldn’t be attending—but there was the question of a student loan that would come due if I were no longer in school. Although I’d received grants and a scholarship as well as work-study that paid for a good chunk of the costs, I’d needed to take a loan for the rest. It wasn’t an astronomical amount, but I couldn’t make payments if I weren’t earning any money.
Turning my head, I examined Whittier to see if he was still awake—and, of course, he was. With what little I knew about the man, I wouldn’t have been surprised to discover he slept just a few hours a night. It was the intensity about him that gave me that impression.
“Can I address a few concerns with you?”
His voice sounded almost amused. “You can try.”
I couldn’t bear his gaze—it was too much. After a few seconds, I looked down at my hands bathed in lavender lighting. “If I’m not going to school, my student loan will come due—and I’ll default on it if I don’t pay it.”
His smooth, rich voice didn’t caress my ears with the coldness of his response. “You should have thought about that before you destroyed the lab.”
I wasn’t going to engage in another volley of no-I-didn’t/ yes-you-did , so I left it at that…deciding to instead move on to my next concern. “Also, my father…I doubt you could tell, but he suffers from multiple sclerosis. Some days he does fine. Other days, he struggles. I realize you probably don’t care at all because you blame him for all the ills that have befallen your family,” I said, hoping that little jab would get him back for his last statement, “but most days, he can’t drive—and, if he can’t drive, he can’t get to doctor’s appointments or the grocery store.” I wasn’t about to tell him that my father still had one man he considered a friend, a man who had moved to Colorado Springs a few years earlier, but he would come visit my dad once every few months. Maybe I could reach out to him to ask him to keep a closer eye on my father, but I didn’t have his contact information.
Beating Whittier to the punch, I looked up at him and said, “Don’t tell me I should have thought about that before.”
One side of his lip actually curled up in amusement, and it made me want to scream at him. Again, though, I managed to keep my composure. “Ms. Miller, I’m a bastard. I’m a bastard through-and-through, something I fully intend to demonstrate over the next several years. But I am not a heartless bastard.”
What the hell did that even mean?
“I can arrange to hire a driver in Winchester to be at your father’s beck and call. Would that ease your concern?”
I nearly lost my breath. Had I heard him correctly?
Was he actually showing an ounce of compassion?
“Um…yes.” As an afterthought, I added, “Thank you.”
“As for your student loans…we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Had I heard him right? “ We? ”
“Unless you have some other plan, I imagine I’ll have to take care of that for you.”
I should have been grateful—but the arrogance in his voice, the smirk on his face, the knowledge that I would again be indebted to him rekindled my anger.
Then, as if to add insult to injury, he added, “I can’t imagine it would add up to much.”
I decided that he had definitely intended it as an insult—that any amount I’d had to borrow to pay for my education, money I obviously didn’t have or I would have paid out of pocket, was nothing but a drop in the bucket to him.
I couldn’t even muster a phony thank you . Instead, I looked back out the side window, trying to wrestle my emotions into submission—because this man would no doubt continue with the insults and cuts and prodding throughout my time serving him.
Meaning I’d better grow a thick skin and get used to it.