Page 84 of Justice Denied

“I’m arresting you for the kidnapping of Emily Ainsley.” He pulled out a set of handcuffs and snapped them around Gene’s wrists.

As the officer recited the Miranda rights to Gene, Ryan said, “Don’t say a word. I’m calling our lawyer. He’ll meet you at the station.”

Gene nodded, his gaze sliding away from Ryan’s as the officer took his elbow in a loose grip.

After confirming which station Gene would be taken to, Ryan called the firm’s attorney to arrange for representation. Something about Gene’s expression troubled him. The detective followed the officers out of the room, leaving Ryan and Yasmine alone with a handful of other shareholders, who had been gawking at the scene.

Ryan touched his sister’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.” She nodded, and they left, heading to Ryan’s office for a private chat. “How could there be evidence of kidnapping?”

She sank onto the loveseat while he took one of the club chairs flanking the couch. “I have no idea.”

He leaned back in the chair to regard his youngest sibling as the prickle of unease that had arrived when the reporter had asked Gene and Yasmine why they were conspiring with Maxwell Technology for the takeover grew into flock of geese. Her guileless gaze reminded him of how easily she’d manipulated their parents during their childhood. She never received the blame for any of her shenanigans and often managed to get him or Gene to take the fall. In a flash, he realized he’d been holding a viper close to his breast all these years, that his sister—who should have put the company first—had been out for herself.

“It was you.” He whispered the words, then cleared his throat and spoke louder. “You’re the one who embezzled the money, not Jay.”

Yasmine laughed. “What are you talking about? Jay Ainsley was arrested for embezzling millions of dollars. You and Dad saw the evidence.”

“But we only recovered a fraction of what went missing. Where’s the other money?”

“He spent it.” Yasmine relaxed against the loveseat. “You haven’t seen me spend like a sailor, have you? You’re tired. The vote went against you and now you’re—”

Ryan tuned out her words, focusing on what he knew about his sister. Her love of pretty things. Her frequent trips to Europe in search of new art for her office and home. The pieces, always carefully within what her balance sheet could afford, displayed with such pride. Then the surety of why and how and what she’d spent the money on overwhelmed him. He sank his head into his hands.

“Ryan?”

The fake concern in his sister’s voice angered him. She was the reason Maxwell Technology had been successful. She’d been bleeding the company for years. He had no doubt she didn’t stop with Jay’s death. “It was never enough for you, was it?”

She widened her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“The job, the generous salary and benefits, access to the company jet and other perks. You wanted more.” No, it was more than that. “You thought you deserved more.”

Anger sparked in her eyes as she dropped her I’m-just-a-girl façade. “You bet I do. I should have been CEO, but no, dear old Dad couldn’t get past the fact I was female, and didn’t I know companies needed strong men to run them? I would have taken Topher Robotics farther than you ever could. Look at your legacy. You’ve lost the company Dad spent his lifetime building. Good thing he’s already had an attack because this will break his heart.”

She rose to her feet. “Bye, brother dear. I’m going home to celebrate my windfall with a glass of wine.”

He let her leave without trying to stop her. For a long time, Ryan sat in the semi-darkness of his office, thinking about how to right the wrong perpetrated against an honest man and whether he had the guts to turn his own sister over to the authorities. All his life, he had tried to do what he thought would please his exacting father, who trumpeted family fidelity above all else. It was time for him to do what was right for him, not his father and not the company.

* * *

“Wake up, Seth.”

The soft whisper of his name penetrated the darkness, bringing him back to the light. His head pounded worse than the one—and only—time he’d downed too many beers at a frat party in college. The vibration underneath clued him in that he was in a vehicle. Memories filtered into his brain. The man who’d pulled a gun on him and forced him outside and into an SUV. Stickiness on his cheek and the metallic scent of blood filled in more gaps. The man who’d abducted him must have hit him in the head to knock him out.

As the vehicle turned, his body rolled to the left. He reached out but found his wrists bound together. Someone caught his bicep and kept him from falling off the seat. He hadn’t imagined her voice then. He’d been hoping he had dreamed Jetta calling his name, for that meant she was safe. He opened his eyes to darkness, the faint illumination of the vehicle’s dashboard the only light. Seth used his shoulder and bound hands to push into an upright position. Nausea swept his body at the movement, and he slammed his eyelids closed again while taking shallow breaths to avoid losing the contents of his stomach. After a few minutes, he cautiously opened his eyes, grateful to find the world had stopped spinning.

“Seth?” Jetta spoke very quietly over the hum of the engine.

“Just a minute.” He breathed the words as the SUV slammed to a stop, the driver cursing as a deer bounded across the road.

“No talking.” The man in the passenger seat raised his gun as if to emphasize his command.

Fine by Seth. He wasn’t sure he could get out any words without throwing up, so staying quiet would be best. The driver gunned the engine, throwing Seth backwards against the seat. He gritted his teeth as pain exploded in his head.

He would not pass out, not when Jetta needed him, but the vehicle’s swaying movement made it impossible to keep his eyes open and not vomit. He closed his eyes, willed his stomach to settle down, and prayed. The nausea faded as he poured out his heart to his heavenly Father for their safety and rescue.

Seth wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the SUV shuddered to a halt and the driver put it into park but didn’t cut the engine. Seth opened his eyes and reached his bound hands toward Jetta, who clasped them in her own. “You okay?”

“I said no talking.” The man shoved his gun in Seth’s face. “Or do I need to clock you in that big head of yours again?”

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