Page 34 of Justice Denied

She checked the list of projects against rooms as she worked her way down the long hallway. All listed projects had corresponding labs, but the two doors at the very end of the corridor were blank. A keypad with a smaller, fingerprint scanner beside one of the doors alerted her she might have found Project Z. All the other labs had keypads, not biometric scanners.

This time she gave into the urge to look over her shoulder. No one lingered in the hallway. Drawing in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and knocked firmly on the door. Silence. She knocked again, louder, allowing her frustration and fear to power her knuckles. This time, the door opened to reveal a man about her height wearing a white lab coat.

“Who are you?”

She ignored the snap to his tone. “Mae Stanhope, Ryan Topher’s personal assistant.”

The man didn’t move from the doorway or relax his scowl. “What do you want?”

“Mr. Topher requests an update on Project Z.” She’d rehearsed what to say and the words came out with authority.

“He does, does he?” The man crossed his arms, his frown deepening the lines bracketing his mouth. “Why didn’t he come himself?”

“Because he’s too busy trying to save this company from a hostile takeover.” She put a hand on her hip.

The man huffed. “You can tell Ryan the test went as planned and we’re moving into phase two.”

She nodded as if she knew what he meant. “He’ll be pleased to hear that. What’s involved in phase two?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “That’s all you’ll get out of me.” The door swung shut in her face.

Mae shrugged, then returned to her desk to retrieve her belongings before hustling to her car. Once off campus, she pulled into a grocery store parking lot and texted her contact.

Project Z is a secret. Work behind an unmarked door on the research floor. Security keypad and fingerprint entry. Going to phase 2.

She hit send and waited, sure her contact would respond quickly.

Good. Need more details. Take photos.

Mae muttered a word her father had often used when frustrated.

How? Very secure unit. It was hard to pry that info out. If Ryan finds out…

I’m sure you’ll think of something.

She wasn’t a superspy, for goodness’ sake. Her phone vibrated again.

You have until next Tuesday.

The coffin emoji next to an older man emoji shocked Mae. She’d considered only of her own exposure, not that her husband would be threatened. But the emojis spelled out her contact’s intent to kill Mae’s husband if she didn’t comply. She rested her forehead against the steering wheel, tears slipping from her eyes. Not for the first time, she wished she’d resisted temptation to fudge that initial invoice and pocket the difference. The bills for her father’s care had been mounting faster than she and Anderson could pay, and they were dangerously close to losing their house. Anderson had no idea how fast and loose she’d been playing with their finances, wrongly assuming her father had had enough on his own to cover his expenses. That might have happened, but Mae found out a nursing home staffer had convinced her father to open a separate bank account in her name and transfer regular payments there. The woman had been caught, but the money would never be recovered. Moving him to a facility with more oversight had been the only way she could ensure he wouldn’t lose the remainder of his money. But the new place had cost twice as much, and soon she was dipping into her retirement funds to pay the hefty monthly fees.

That ran out fast too, so she’d “borrowed” enough to fund her father’s stay. However, the easy money had enticed her take a little bit more to replace the retirement account money until, at the time of his death eighteen years ago, she had embezzled nearly a quarter of a million dollars. A life insurance policy she hadn’t realized her father had taken out replaced $150,000 of that amount, with her working overtime to return the remaining $100,000. Her husband thought the extra hours were her way of coping with her father’s death and hadn’t asked too many questions.

She still hadn’t told him she couldn’t retire as planned, given how depleted her own 401(k) was. And now this. She rubbed her head and started the vehicle. She had less than a week to figure out how to uncover more details about the secret project. Even if she could get in, how on earth would she know what to snap pics of?

As she headed for home, she discarded scenario after scenario until she finally had a possible solution. She would go in on the weekend and sweet-talk her way into the room by saying Ryan needed something ASAP. Yes, that might work. Ryan always golfed with three friends Saturday with a standing 2 p.m. tee time. He also kept his phone on silent during the outings, berating any staffer who tried to contact him during his golf game.

Now that she had a plan for how to get into the room, all she had to do was come up with a solution to keep her visit a secret. She had no intention of becoming a scapegoat for her unknown tormentor. She parked in the driveway, mentally noting Anderson had yet to clean out the garage as he’d promised. Maybe she could suggest he tackle it on Saturday while she nipped out ostensibly to the store but really to work. That would occupy him enough that he wouldn’t notice how long she’d be gone.

With the first phase of her plan in place, she pasted a smile on her face and greeted her husband. After kissing his cheek, Mae caught the scent of oregano and garlic. “Something smells good in here.”

“I made my favorite girl my famous spaghetti and meatballs.” He guided her into the living room. “You put your feet up while I get you a glass of wine. You’ve been working way too hard. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”

She caught his hand in hers. “You take such good care of me.”

He dropped a kiss onto her head. “You deserve a little pampering.”

No, she didn’t, but with luck, he would never find out what she’d done to ensure their lifestyle didn’t have any major roadblocks along the way.

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