Page 27 of Justice Denied

“Seth? Oh, thank God.”

The tears in her voice coupled with what sounded like relief made him forget his fears about what topic she wanted to discuss. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m with my mom.” She sucked in air, then blew it out in a whoosh. “Someone tried to kill her last night.”

“What?” He was on his feet and heading toward the exit, every instinct driving him to get to Jetta as quickly as possible. “How?”

“We’re still getting the information. I’ve called the police, but could you come?” Her voice hitched. “I can’t think straight, I’m so scared.”

“I’m on my way. Text me the address.”

“Will do. See you soon.” She ended the call, and Seth’s phone buzzed a few seconds later with the rehab facility’s address.

A quick check of the time showed he had a little under two hours before he had to be at the Rotary Club in Falls Church. Once in his vehicle, he cross-checked the drive time from the rehab center to the Rotary Club. Fifteen minutes. Good, that gave him a bit of a cushion. He prayed he would be able to support Jetta and not have to rush off to snap the photo. He couldn’t afford to lose this job, not if he wanted to pay his rent. His side hustle photography business had been growing, but it still wasn’t steady enough to pay his bills.

After arriving at the center, he jogged toward the rehab facility entrance. What Jetta said reverberated in his mind—someone had tried to kill her mother. Surely that was tied to Emily’s desire to prove her husband’s innocence. Because if Jay Ainsley was not the embezzler, that meant someone had gotten away with millions fifteen years ago—and had even more to lose now because of the potential acquisition.

* * *

Jetta heldMom’s hand as she recounted what happened with the male nurse the night before. The rehab facility’s in-house lab had discovered a lethal dose of fentanyl in the purple capsules they’d examined first thing this morning. The daytime manager had immediately phoned the police, and now Detective Patrick Brady questioned her mother while two Fairfax County police officers talked to the staff. Jetta had texted Seth as soon as her mother had called with the news. She’d already been on her way to visit her mother when the call had come in, so she had arrived within minutes.

“Mrs. Ainsley, do you know of any reason why someone would attempt to kill you?” Detective Brady had kind eyes bracketed by lines, as if the man smiled more than he frowned. His salt-and-pepper hair reassured Jetta he had the experience to thoroughly investigate the attempted murder, and she’d hoped it meant he might have been on the force fifteen years ago.

Mom squeezed Jetta’s hand. “Yes, I do.”

Her answer must have startled the detective because his eyes widened slightly. “What reason would that be?”

His tone, although cordial, held a hint of skepticism. On the surface, Mom appeared to be a widow in her early sixties, someone whom no one would give a second look, and with whom no one would hold such a grudge as to warrant murder.

“Because I want justice for my husband.”

Detective Brady didn’t jot that down. “Why is that?”

“He died fifteen years ago after being accused of embezzling millions from Topher Robotics.” Mom withdrew her hand from Jetta’s to point a finger at the detective. “I think they killed him to stop any further investigation into the theft and now they want to silence me because I’m looking into it again.”

“I think you’d better start at the beginning, Mrs. Ainsley.” He leaned back in the chair positioned next to Mom’s bed, his posture relaxed and interested.

“Certainly.” Her mother recounted the events leading up to Dad’s arrest and heart attack, the aftermath with the Topher family lobbing accusations about Dad, then her email and phone call to the company requesting an investigation to clear his name. She ended with the arrival of the envelope two days ago. “My daughter,” she indicated Jetta, “is looking into it for me, to see if there’s anything we can do to exonerate Jay’s name.”

“I remember the case. Hard to forget hearing about a suspect who died upon arrest.” Detective Brady tapped the screen of his iPad, where he’d been writing notes with a stylus pen. “Wasn’t my department, but I think one of the original investigators is now the head of fraud. I’ll get in touch with her and see what she remembers about the case.”

“Thank you.” Mom’s quiet words reminded Jetta how much her mother still missed her father.

“Did you tell him about Bingley?” Seth stepped into the room, his large presence filling Jetta with relief. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been longing for him to arrive until he was here.

“Bingley?” The detective stood as Seth approached Jetta, who introduced him to the detective.

“My dog.” Mom’s close call had shoved Bingley’s incident to the back of Jetta’s mind. “He ate some raw meat mixed with smashed ibuprofen tablets and nearly died two days ago. A raccoon ate some of the same meat and did die.”

“What did animal control find?” Seth moved to stand beside Jetta’s chair as Detective Brady retook his seat.

Jetta explained about the morning’s sweep of her backyard. “The remnants of ground beef with traces of ibuprofen on the left corner of the fence facing the sidewalk—the opposite side where you also found a few bits of meat. They think someone shoved it under the wooden fence planks.”

“That’s dreadful! Bingley’s okay?” Mom grasped Jetta’s hand again, concern etched on the lines of her face.

“Yes, he’s fully recovered.” She glanced at Seth. “The animal control officer took the raccoon to see if it had ingested the same thing as Bingley.”

“Plus, someone tried to run her off the road yesterday,” Seth added. “And left the note on your front porch.” He showed the detective the photo of those awful words.

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