Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cold fingers traced a path down Gary’s spine.
We are officially out of our depth.
His next thought provided some welcome respite from the momentary shock Samantha’s words had sent through him.
Travers is not going to believe this.
Dan sagged against the seat cushions. “Sometimes I really hate being right.”
“What?” Samantha stared at him. “How could you—”
Gary had regained his composure. “Forget about what we know. Tell us what you know. Start with what makes you think he’s doing that.”
Samantha twisted to look up at Mike. “I know it’s not what you’re here for, but could you make us some coffee? This is going to take a while.”
Mike chuckled. “I think once they’ve heard the whole story, they’re going to need something stronger than coffee.” He headed for the kitchen area.
She leaned back against the cushions. “It’s easy to say ‘tell us what you know.’ The hard part is where to start. I suppose the final piece of the puzzle was a phone call from someone I didn’t know. A young man called―”
“Tyler Benedict,” Dan interjected.
Samantha blinked. “Why, yes. He was trying to reach Robert, except Robert was in the hospital, so he got me.” She shuddered. “I really wish he hadn’t.”
“We’ve spoken with him a few times,” Gary informed her. “Probably too many for his liking. But we know what he told you, if that helps.”
She nodded. “About this story of Robert in some gay bar in Florida? I didn’t believe it for an instant. Robert isn’t gay. So I told Tyler his friend had made a mistake.” Her face contorted.
“But something changed your mind,” Dan said quietly.
She flashed him a startled glance.
“Dan’s very intuitive,” Gary told her. “What happened to change your mind?”
“I remembered something, and when I checked, I didn’t like what I found. Robert attended a convention at the American Genetics Institute in Delray Beach, Florida.”
Gary got out his notebook. “When was this?”
“Thursday, April second, 2015.” She shivered.
Dan glanced at Gary. “So that fits with Leo’s version. Spring break would be about that time, wouldn’t it?”
Gary made a note to check the date.
“Okay, fine. So Robert was there.” Samantha’s voice held a note of impatience. “But I repeat—he is not gay. So then I asked myself what he’d be doing in a gay bar. More than once if this Leo person was correct. It didn’t make any sense.”
Mike returned with a tray of cups and a coffee pot. He set it down on the coffee table, then proceeded to pour.
Dan took a cup. “Tyler told you about some of his friends falling ill when they got back to Boston, didn’t he?”
She paused in midreach for a cup. “You know what they were all infected with, don’t you?”
Gary nodded. “Monkeypox.”
She managed a smile. “Nathan was right. You’re good.”
“Drink your coffee.” Mike handed her a cup.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Dad.”
Gary was relieved to see her tension dissipate a little. There was an air of fatigue that clung to her, dark circles under her eyes. Gary didn’t know the whole story, but he was beginning to understand why she might not be sleeping all that well.
“You said Tyler’s call was the final piece of the puzzle,” Gary said. “What was the first?”
Samantha took a drink before speaking. “That was an email that arrived September twenty-second. Robert had his heart attack on the twentieth. I was trying to be there for Michelle—Robert’s wife—because it was touch and go at first. He’d stabilized after forty-eight hours, so I went to the lab, figuring work would keep my mind off things. ”
“What was in the email?” Dan inquired.
“It came into our joint lab account. We use it to deal with the company producing the machine and anyone else connected to it.” She glanced at them. “You know about that?”
Gary nodded. He wasn’t about to mention it had been Robert Martin who’d clued them in. He wanted Samantha to stay on track.
“So yes, I got this email, and it was weird. It was a receipt for five nebulizers.”
Gary frowned. “The little machines people use to deliver anti-asthma drugs? Is that what you mean?”
“That’s it. But the thing is… we have no need of them in our research.
And why five of them? So I called them to check they hadn’t sent it to the wrong account.
” She drank a little more. “It was no mistake. Robert had ordered them. But before I could start trying to work out why he’d need them, someone from the company called.
They needed technical info. That was Robert’s department, not mine, but I couldn’t find his notes.
Not on the desk in his office nor anywhere in his lab.
There was only one option left—he must have taken them home. ”
“I take it waiting for him to return wasn’t an option,” Gary remarked.
“Not really. They said they needed the information, like, yesterday. So I called Michelle. We’ve known each other a long time.
I apologized for calling when Robert was in such a bad way.
She’d just gotten home from the hospital, but she said I was welcome to come over and take a look.
” Another shiver rippled through her. “Except now I wish I’d never set foot in that house. ”
Saturday, September 22, 2018
“How is he?” Samantha asked as she stepped into the hallway.
“Better than yesterday, so that’s a blessing.”
She hugged Michelle. “Look, if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, someone to cook you a meal, pour you a glass of wine, play a round of golf with… generally take your mind off stuff? I’m your girl.”
Michelle wiped away tears that sparkled on her lower lashes. “Thanks, honey. He told me today he’s a tough old bird, and he’s not ready for his coffin yet.”
Samantha smiled. “That sounds like him. Besides, he needs to stick around to see all our hard work come to fruition.”
“Amen to that. After the last few years, we could use something good happening in our lives.”
Samantha didn’t comment. Fatuous murmured phrases would neither heal their wounds nor diminish their pain.
Michelle gave another swipe of her hand across her cheek.
“Do you play? Golf, I mean. I had no idea. Robert doesn’t.
He has only two things to say on the subject—that Mark Twain was right when he said golf was a good walk spoiled, and that Ray Floyd knew what he was talking about when he said they called it golf because all the other four-letter words were taken. ”
Samantha laughed. “I can’t even play a decent round of miniature golf, but I’d keep you company while you practice your swing.
” How many times had she asked after Michelle, only to have Robert tell her his wife was off on a visit to another golf course?
He’d joked once that he thought she was on a mission to play on every course in the state, and beyond.
“Aw, bless you. Okay, about your problem. I took a look around, but I haven’t seen any notebooks. You sure they’re here?”
“There’s nowhere else. I’ve checked at the lab, his office.” She was starting to despair. Robert, what have you done with them?
This was too important to waste time running around trying to find the information that should have been right there at her fingertips.
Michelle frowned. “There is one place I haven’t checked, but for the life of me I can’t see why he’d have them in there.”
“In where?”
“His hobby room.”
Samantha gave an exaggerated look of astonishment. “Robert has a hobby? How come I’ve never heard him mention one?”
Michelle laughed. “He’s really into his photography. He took it up about three years ago, I guess because he wanted a little distraction. And I haven’t looked because I’m not allowed in there.”
“A room in your home—and you’re told not to enter?” Samantha bit her lip. “So Robert cleans it?”
Michelle snorted. “Honey, I have no idea what he gets up to in there. Now and then he shows me some of his photos, and I have to say, they’re awesome.
But no, I’m under strict instructions. He said he has chemicals up there for developing, he knows where everything is, and he doesn’t want me walking in and messing something up.
” She shrugged. “So I keep out. One less room for me to clean anyhow. But if you want to take a peek in there, I know where he keeps the key.” Her dark eyes twinkled.
Samantha chuckled. “And you haven’t been tempted? Not even once?” If it had been her husband who’d told her not to go in, she’d have disobeyed him in a heartbeat.
“What with my golf, my reading group, visiting Kate in New York, spending time with my grandkids… I don’t have time to wonder what kind of photos he’s developing up there.
As long as it keeps him happy. He certainly put enough time, money, and effort into setting up a darkroom.
” She pointed to the ceiling. “The attic is his domain now. I didn’t even know what he was planning.
I got back from visiting Kate one time, and he’d had the builders in creating his darkroom.
He moved all the stuff we’d hoarded over the years into one of the bedrooms.” She went over to the sideboard that stood in the hallway, opened the top drawer, and removed a long key.
“Here you go. I’ll put some coffee on if you want to stay a while.
I did some baking yesterday—because it was better than sitting around worrying—and I know how much you love my carrot cake. ”
Samantha laughed. “Michelle, you fight dirty.” She took the key.
“You know where to go, right?”
“How many times have I visited this house?” She headed for the staircase. On the second floor was the door to the attic. She unlocked it and climbed a narrow set of stairs.
How on earth did he get all his photographic equipment up here?
When she reached the top, she stopped. She’d expected a large space, but instead there was a small room and a wall that cut off the rest of the attic, a door set into it.
That had to be the darkroom.
Framed photos lined the wall, and Samantha couldn’t resist taking a look. There were views of Boston, taken from interesting angles, some atmospheric shots of the harbor, and a few other places she recognized.
How come he never once mentioned this?
She glanced at the wide table that took up most of the floor space, and the shelves along one low wall. There was no sign of Robert’s notebooks.
Samantha looked at the door to the darkroom. She couldn’t imagine what notebooks would be doing in there. However, unlike Michelle, she was capable of succumbing to curiosity.
She walked over to the door and tried the handle.
It was locked. The key to the attic didn’t fit, so she took a look around.
Standing on a shelf was a framed photo of a young man she recognized straightaway.
A twinge of sorrow pierced her chest at the sight.
Then she saw a key on a red ribbon, hanging over one corner.
I wonder….
Samantha removed it, careful not to knock over the frame, slid the key into the lock, and turned it. The door opened to reveal total darkness. Of course it would. She’d watched enough TV to know there had to be a red light in there, so she fumbled for the switch on the wall beside the door.
It came on, and she blinked in the bright light that bathed the space.
It wasn’t a darkroom.
She was looking at a lab. A fully equipped lab.