At ten o’clock the next morning Josh drove into the entrance of a parking garage in downtown Houston that was located a couple blocks from the bank where Melanie Abbott worked. Caitlyn had called her this morning, asking if they could meet with her, and thankfully the woman had agreed.
Two minutes later, he pulled into an empty parking space, then quickly swallowed the last of his espresso, hoping the extra shot of caffeine would keep him going today. He’d had a restless night in the new motel he’d insisted Caitlyn switch to and could have used another couple hours of sleep. At least staying in the room next to her had allowed him to keep an eye on her.
“I hate parking garages,” Caitlyn said as she climbed out of the passenger seat.
“And why is that?”
Her boots clicked against the cement as they headed toward the street. “For starters, they usually leave me lost and driving in circles.”
“So you’re one of those directionally challenged individuals?”
“Why does that sound so . . . politically correct and yet so wrong?” She let out a low laugh as she stepped in beside him. “I’d like to say the only place I get lost is driving around parking garages, but I’m afraid the problem goes a bit deeper. It’s more of a left versus right challenge.”
“Ah . . . Remind me not to let you give me directions the next time we go somewhere.”
“Funny.” She flinched as someone’s car alarm went off a few cars down, the obnoxious sound echoing inside the garage. “And, of course, there’s the fact that I always feel like I’m being stalked.”
He nudged her with his shoulder. “Well, today you have your own personal bodyguard, so there’s no need to worry.”
She shot him a smile, but he knew not worrying wasn’t going to come easy. For either of them.
Inside the bank lobby, they headed for the receptionist’s desk where Mrs. Abbott had told them to go. He took in the large lobby, with its shiny tiled floor, dark wood furniture, and a row of tellers along the back wall, conscious as always of what was going on around him. Especially today. There were eight customers, including a young couple standing at the counter talking to one of the tellers and a businessman in a leather jacket filling out something.
“We have an appointment to see Melanie Abbott,” Caitlyn said to the receptionist. “My name is Caitlyn Lindsey.”
“Of course.” The woman glanced down at her computer. “She’s expecting you now. I’ll give her a call, and she’ll meet you near the row of offices to the left.”
Josh pressed his hand against her elbow as they started walking. “Just in case you get lost.”
“Very funny.”
“I thought so.”
Mrs. Abbott was younger than he’d expected, though he wasn’t sure why he’d pegged her as middle aged. She looked to be in her late forties, but there was a tiredness in her eyes as if she hadn’t been sleeping well. He understood all too well the feeling.
“Caitlyn, it’s good to see you again.” She shook Caitlyn’s hand, then turned to him. “You must be Josh Solomon.”
“I am. Thank you so much for agreeing to see us, Mrs. Abbott.”
“Please . . . call me Melanie. I’m sure we met before at one of MedTECH’s Christmas parties. Olivia was such a sweet woman. I couldn’t believe it when I heard she’d died. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. And I’m sorry about your husband’s passing as well.”
“I appreciate that.” Melanie motioned toward the hallway behind them. “I thought we could go back and speak in my office. It will be more private there.”
“Of course,” Caitlyn said.
They followed her down the row of offices, each with a glass door and a nameplate next to it. “I’ve learned you never know what life is going to throw at you.”
“Unfortunately, that’s true,” he said.
She waited for them to go into the last office ahead of her, then shut the door behind her. “I should have asked if you’d like some coffee. It’s not the greatest, but it’s hot and someone brought Danishes this morning.”
Caitlyn waved off the offer. “I’m fine.”
“Me too. Thanks.”
The office was neat, but sparsely furnished with a desk, chairs, and a bookshelf, along with a few well-chosen pieces of art on the wall.
Josh stopped in front of a row of three black-and-white photos. “These are fascinating pictures.”
“Walter and I both had a thing for architecture. We loved visiting old buildings and churches. He bought me these photographs for our anniversary a couple years ago. These three were all taken right here in Houston over a century ago. City Hall . . . the Rice Hotel . . . and the Harris County Courthouse.”
“What a wonderful piece of history,” Caitlyn said.
“I’ve always loved them.” Melanie motioned for them to sit down, then scooted in behind her desk. “I have to say I was surprised you called again, Caitlyn, though to be honest, I’m glad you did.”
Caitlyn’s brow rose slightly. “I hope I didn’t upset you.”
“When you called the first time, I was . . . rattled. But not because of what you said.” She picked up a small orange cube off her desk and started rolling it between her fingers. “I’ve just found it so hard to focus after Walter’s death.”
“I’ve had to deal with the same thing,” Josh said.
“Does it get any easier?” she asked. “Because quite frankly, even after three months, I’m at a loss. I come to work because it gives me something to do, but beyond that . . . I usually end up going home and crying over a frozen dinner.”
Josh hesitated at his response. Putting his emotions to words had never been his strong suit. “I’m not sure it gets easier as much as the grief gets more familiar. You learn to let those feelings be a part of your day-to-day life instead of them ruling your emotions.”
“That makes sense.” Melanie shrugged. “At least I have my job. I’ve worked in this business for almost twenty-five years. Walter and I never had children, but I always loved my job and most of the time it was enough. I guess I’m still searching for a new normal.”
“I have to confess that even a year later, I’m doing the same thing.”
“But you’re not here to listen to me complain.” She shook her head. “Your questions about Walter, Caitlyn . . . let’s just say they brought back some memories I’m trying every day to forget.”
“I’m sorry—”
“It’s fine. Really.” Melanie dropped the cube back onto the desk. “I’m just going to come out and say what I can’t stop thinking. You don’t think his death was from natural causes, do you?”
Caitlyn cleared her throat. “There have been questions that have surfaced in connection to one of the projects he was working on. I’m just trying—we’re trying—to find out the truth.”
“About the project you mentioned? Starlighter?”
Caitlyn nodded.
Melanie moved to the window. “The project name isn’t familiar, like I told you, but that doesn’t surprise me. Walter didn’t talk to me much about the specifics with his job.” She turned around to face them. “But here’s what I didn’t tell you. Walter was upset about something the weeks leading up to his death, but he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. He’d became paranoid. He was always worried someone was following him. He added extra security to the house, and always had to double-check to make sure the doors and windows were locked. I’ve never seen him like that, and he wouldn’t tell me what was going on. All he would ever tell me was not to worry.”
“You said that was out of character for him?” Josh asked.
She leaned against the edge of the desk and nodded. “He was always fairly laid-back and wasn’t one to spend a lot of time worrying. After he died, I tried to put it all behind me. And in the end, he was gone, so what did it matter. But when you spoke with me a couple days ago, it all came back. I decided to go through his office—something I’ve been putting off since his death.”
“Did you find something?” Caitlyn asked.
“I did, but I have no idea what it means, other than the fact that before my husband died, he hired a private investigator.” Melanie turned to Josh. “But you’re not going to like what was in the photos.”
“I’m sorry . . .” Josh leaned forward in his seat, not understanding. “What do you mean?”
Melanie blew out a sharp breath, then pulled a manila envelope out of the top drawer of her desk and handed it to Josh. “I found an envelope of surveillance photos, presumably taken by the private investigator Walter hired. There are photos of your wife in here.”
Josh felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “Wait a minute . . . my wife? Why would your husband have surveillance photos of Olivia?”
“I don’t know. But there are two other sets of photos in there as well. Two men meeting at a café, and then other photos of one of those men with another woman. Your wife is the only one I recognized.”
Josh’s gut churned while he went through the photos one by one. The first half-dozen pictures were of Olivia sitting across the table from another man at a restaurant, talking intently about something. He kept flipping through the photos. There were several more of the two of them meeting. At a coffee shop . . . at a park . . .
“Do you know who she’s with?” Josh handed one of the photos to Caitlyn.
He caught the hesitation in her voice before she answered.
“Jarred Carmichael.”
J. C. The supervisor Helen had mentioned in her notes. The man who had been meeting with Olivia without Josh’s prior knowledge.
He flipped through the rest of the photos, trying not to jump to any false conclusions about the photos of his wife with another man. “This man . . . this is the assistant district attorney. Nigel Hayward.”
“There are photos of him talking with another man, and some with another woman.” Melanie said. “Do you know either of them?”
“Not personally,” Josh said.
“I wish I could tell you more,” Melanie said, “but I can’t. Because I have no idea why Walter would hire an investigator or why there are photos of your wife in there.”
Josh didn’t know either, but none of the reasons he could come up with were good. He turned the envelope over. “There’s a phone number scrawled here.”
“I tried calling it,” Melanie said, “but never got ahold of anyone.”
Josh pulled out his phone, then punched in the number on the back of the envelope.
After a minute, he shook his head. “No answer and no voice mail set up. I’ll have my partner try to trace it and find out who it belonged to.”
Melanie’s fingers gripped the edge of the desk. “I heard someone else from the lab died recently.”
Caitlyn nodded. “Helen Fletcher.”
“I’ve met her as well. Is her death related to all of this?”
“We believe so.”
“And this Starlighter project? Is that the connection?”
“From everything we know, yes,” Caitlyn said. “Did you find anything else in his office that might have been related to the project?”
“I didn’t find anything connected to his work. Just the photos.” Melanie brow furrowed. “Maybe this is a dumb question, but do you think my life’s in danger? If he was murdered . . .”
“To be honest,” Josh said, “it’s possible. Have you noticed anyone following you? Anything out of the ordinary since Walter’s death.”
“No, but I’ve probably been too distracted to even notice.” Melanie smoothed out her skirt. “But now that you mention it, there was something I almost forgot about until now. A few days before Walter died, someone broke into our house.”
Josh sat forward in his chair. “Did you file a police report?”
“We did, but the only thing that was stolen was some of my jewelry, and oddly enough some of Walter’s pain medicine he had left over from surgery on his shoulder.”
“That’s actually not surprising,” Josh said. “The black market for prescription drugs is huge and thieves know that.”
She picked up the orange cube again. “I have some vacation time saved. Maybe I should go visit my sister till all this blows over.”
“I was going to suggest you do exactly that. Just until we have some more answers.” While he didn’t want to scare the woman, he also didn’t want to water down the reality. “Can we ask you one more thing, Melanie?”
“Of course.”
“I know this is personal, but what can you tell us about Walter’s death? Was there anything that stood out at the time? Anything that seemed . . . off?”
“According to the report, my husband died of a heart attack, which I suppose didn’t surprise anyone. He’d been taking heart medication for years.”
“So there was no autopsy?” he asked.
“No.”
“Had he been taking any other medicine?” Caitlyn asked.
“He had a handful of prescriptions to regulate his blood pressure and cholesterol. Plus he’d been taking antibiotics for bronchitis.”
“Do you remember the name of the antibiotic?”
“I think it was . . . amoxicillin. I could check, though. Walter was at high risk for arrhythmia, so his doctor had to be careful about what drugs he prescribed.”
“If you’d check, that would be great. And in the meantime . . .” Caitlyn looked at Josh before standing up. “Go to your sister’s, and we’ll be in touch.”
“Of course. Because if there’s even the slightest chance that you’re right—and I can’t believe I’m even saying this—and someone murdered Walter, I need to know the truth.”
Caitlyn dropped the envelope of photos into her purse before they headed toward the door. “And that’s what we’re going to find out.”
They walked in silence through the lobby until they stepped out into the cold and headed back toward the garage where they’d parked.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Melanie, but the man in the photograph . . . the balding man that was with the assistant DA in some of those photos . . . he was in the bank lobby when we arrived.”
“The bank lobby?” she asked. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. The balding man in the sports coat was in the east corner of the lobby when we walked in. The second one was filling out a form in the center of the room.”
“I noticed that he matches the description of the man who showed up at Gavin’s house, but they couldn’t have been following us then. Not if they were at the bank before us.”
“I think you’re right, but I believe they were following Melanie.”
“Okay, then what if—like with Olivia—the break-in at the Abbotts’ home wasn’t just a random one.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m listening.”
“Drug interaction is a complex issue all doctors have to deal with every day, because if you combine certain medications, the results can be devastating.”
“Like heart medicine and antibiotics?” he asked.
“Exactly. Especially with someone at high risk for arrhythmia. There are certain antibiotics that they’ve linked to an increase in arrhythmia-related cardiovascular deaths.”
“His doctor would have known that.” His mind raced through the possibilities. “But you’re not thinking the doctor made a mistake. You’re thinking someone switched his antibiotic.”
She nodded. “A break-in a couple days before he died seems way too convenient. They might have noticed the pain meds missing but probably wouldn’t have thought to look for something being switched. I want to look something up quickly.”
She ducked inside an alcove where they were out of the wind, then pulled out her phone, while he studied the mostly empty streets with just a few cars going by. Nothing stood out. Nothing seemed out of place. But neither could he let his guard down. Another piece of the puzzle was falling into place, and he didn’t like the picture that was emerging.
“Look at this,” she said a minute later. “Unless you were paying attention, this generic pill for amoxicillin looks very similar to a seven hundred and fifty milligram of another antibiotic that has a proven risk factor of disrupting the heart’s electrical activity.”
“Meaning murder was possible.”
“Yes, though unfortunately, without an autopsy, I don’t know if it could be proven. But is it possible? Definitely.” They started walking again toward the parking garage. “I know that’s not what you’re thinking about right now. These photos don’t prove they were having an affair, Josh. They look more like business meetings.”
He wanted to forget the photos he’d just seen, but he knew Caitlyn was right. Olivia loved him, but she had been hiding something.
“It proves they were involved in something outside work and that there was something she needed to tell me,” he said as they crossed the street. “Something she was trying to apologize to me for. Something she should have told me about. Why didn’t she just tell me?”
She paused on the sidewalk and looked at him. “What do we do now?”
“Besides identifying the man in the pictures with the assistant DA, I could really eat a burger and fries.”
“A burger?” Her eyes widened.
“You’re probably starting to notice a trend here . . . I tend to eat when I’m stressed.”
“And I’m the opposite. When I’m stressed, I can hardly look at food.” Her arm brushed against his. “I’m sorry. This is scary for me, but I haven’t forgotten how personal this is for you.”
“Maybe this is what needed to happen. I’ve always suspected there was more to Olivia’s death than what the DA presented in the trial. It’s just that now I know my gut was right.” He wanted to push away the emotions but knew that ignoring them wasn’t going to make them disappear. “Maybe in the end, this is going to be the final closure I’ve been looking for, so I can move on with my life.”
“So do you know of any good burger joints around here?” she asked as they approached the entrance to the garage.
“I do, actually. What do you know about Houston’s underground tunnel system?”
“A tunnel system?” She shook her head. “I didn’t know there was one.”
“Then I think it’s time you discovered one of Houston’s best-kept secrets.” He slowed down, then opened one of the glass doors and waited for her to slip inside. “The original tunnel was built sometime back in the early 1900s and was constructed to link two movie theaters. Throughout the following decades, as more buildings were put in above ground, they continued adding the tunnels below ground as well. There are over six miles of tunnels, linking dozens of office buildings and businesses. They’re all climate-controlled, which is why they are so popular with employees working in the office towers and stores above ground, especially as an escape from the weather.”
He steered her into the tunnel, glad he’d suggested this. They both needed a distraction from everything that was going on, and a historical tour combined with an early lunch sounded like the perfect combination as far as he was concerned. And the company wasn’t bad either.
He glanced back as they turned onto another corridor and felt any feelings of a reprieve vanish.
“Caitlyn . . .” Josh’s fingers squeezed her elbow. Two men, walking fast, were behind them, and this wasn’t the first time he’d seen them. This wasn’t just another coincidence.
She looked up at him. “What is it?”
“They found us. We’re being followed.”