Page 24 of Justice Denied

“Intriguing title.” He took the plate with a roll she offered, then followed her to the small breakfast nook with its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the small, fenced backyard.

“It’s about Frances Glessner Lee and her Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death—kind of like dioramas of twenty real-life murders, suicides, and accidental deaths she made to help law enforcement learn forensic science techniques.” She sipped her coffee as Jay downed the roll in several big bites.

“Sounds a bit gruesome,” he winked at her, “but the perfect way to spend a Saturday.”

She grinned, happy that Jay seemed more like his old self. They chatted about inconsequential things as they finished their coffee and rolls. While she loaded the dishwasher, Jay went upstairs to retrieve his phone. A pounding on the front door made her jump. Who would be calling at eight on a Saturday? The doorbell pealed, accompanied by more pounding. She dried her hands and hustled to answer it.

The doorbell rang again as she yanked open the door. The annoyed response died on her lips at the sight of two uniformed police officers plus a woman dressed in a navy-blue pants suit. “I’m Detective Serenity Washington with the Falls Church Police Department.” She flashed her badge so quickly, Emily couldn’t read the words. “Is Jay Ainsley here?”

Confusion and a growing sense of unease snaked its way up Emily’s spine. “He is.”

“We need to speak with him immediately. Please step aside.” The detective took a step forward, and Emily automatically retreated until the woman and two officers were in the foyer.

“What’s going on?” Jay walked down the stairs, his eyes briefly meeting Emily’s before returning to the police.

“Jay Ainsley?” Detective Washington addressed her husband, who had reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes, I’m Jay Ainsley.”

“Jay Ainsley, I’m arresting you on charges of embezzlement and fraud.” The detective nodded to one of the officers, who produced handcuffs and reached for Jay. “You don’t have to…”

Emily tuned out the rest of the Miranda warning the detective recited as the officer cuffed Jay’s wrists in front of him. Her husband kept his gaze directed at Emily, the anguish in his eyes nearly undoing her composure. His face had lost most of its color, leaving him a pale imitation of his former robustness. Her heart squeezed as thoughts of how this could be happening pummeled her mind.

She touched his arm, earning a frown from one of the officers. “Ma’am, please stay away from the prisoner.”

Prisoner. Not her Jay. “Honey, I’ll call…” She couldn’t think of the attorney’s name, the one who had helped them revise their will after Jetta’s birth.

“Call Peter Long. Name’s in my phone contacts list.” Jay squared his shoulders as the officers flanked him. “He’ll know what to do. I love you. Tell the kids how much I love them.”

“I will.” She covered her mouth as if to stifle the scream threatening to erupt. She wouldn’t give into the rising panic. She would call Peter Long, who would straighten out this mess and get her husband back home where he belonged.

As they led him to the front door, Jay raised his cuffed hands to his chest, then his body sagged, nearly dragging the two officers to the ground. One of them yanked up on Jay’s arm, but her husband’s knees hit the entryway rug with a thud before he collapsed onto the ground.

This time, she let out the scream as she sank to the floor to cradle her still husband in her arms.

* * *

Emily swipedtears from her cheek as memories of the officers working to restart her husband’s heart assailed her. She’d wanted to tell them it was too late—Jay was with his Savior, leaving her to soldier on through the accusations that had tainted their family ever since. But maybe this time, she would find the answers as to who had set up her husband to take the fall for the fraud and embezzlement. For never once over these past years had she doubted he was innocent of all charges.

Not for the first time, she wished she’d pushed for a second autopsy on her husband, one that would run a fuller tox screen than the usual tests for alcohol, amphetamines, barbiturates, marijuana, and opiates. Back then, her gut told her Jay’s heart attack wasn’t the result of stress of his being found out but because someone didn’t want him searching for answers.

But with the Tophers threatening to sue for recovery of the money Jay supposedly stole—and wasn’t accounted for in the offshore bank accounts linked to him—and their circle of friends shrinking each time another story hit the papers, she didn’t have the energy or the funds to pursue it on her own. Maybe it wasn’t too late to re-examine her husband’s body, but she’d tackle that question once she had enough evidence to reopen the case.

Emily moved again on the bed, still unable to get comfortable. Her leg and hip ached. Why hadn’t the nurse come back with her pain meds for the night? She reached for the call button and pressed it.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and a figure dressed in scrubs stepped inside, leaving the door ajar. Emily raised the head of the bed slightly. “Did you bring my pain meds? I’m really uncomfortable.”

“These will make all of that go away.” The voice, muffled by a facemask, didn’t sound like the usual night nurse.

In the darkened room with only the light from the hallway, Emily couldn’t make out the nurse’s identity but could tell it was a man by the height and breadth of his shoulders. No soft round curves on his body.

The nurse handed Emily a paper pill cup. “Here you go.”

Emily stared into the cup, noting the oblong, rather than round, shape of the pills. “These look different.”

“We were running low on the usual ones, but these will work just fine.” The nurse held out her plastic water mug. “Down the hatch.”

She wanted to press the man for an explanation, but some instinct told her to appear to comply. She tossed the pills from the cup into her mouth, then took the water and sipped, swallowing the water but keeping the pills tucked into her cheek.

---