As she drove—stop, start, stop—she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Unlikely there’s any third party in this. Neither the wife nor daughter heard their assailants talking to anyone but each other, not even on a comm. It’s going to be the two of them. Brothers, by blood or choice. Or . . . lovers. That’s a thought. They could be lovers, or spouses.”
Considering it, she turned into the hospital’s underground garage, spent longer than she liked finding a slot.
“We’re also going to see about the other patients who were in the meeting and ended up at this med center. Karson’s priority.”
“They bumped her down a level. Out of ICU, condition serious but stable. The rep—Anson Whitt, and he might be a little sweet on her—said she has burns, a concussion, head lacerations, two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a serious wound in her side where a hunk of shrapnel from the conference table stabbed into her.”
They located the floor, badged at the nurses’ station. The nurse on duty scowled.
“Ms. Karson is in serious condition. She needs rest, quiet, care. It would be better if you came back tomorrow.”
“Maybe, but we’re here now, and have clearance.”
“Yes, I see that. However, if the patient is sleeping, I won’t wake her for you or anyone else.”
She rounded the station, a pint-size woman with chocolate skin and the air of authority in her hard eyes. Hard eyes that turned soft with compassion when she reached the snazzy private room Karson occupied.
“The police are here, sweetie. If you’re not up to visitors they’ll come back.”
“Thanks, Jeannie. I’ve been waiting for them. It’s fine.”
“Fifteen minutes,” the nurse said with another hard eye for Eve. “You just have to buzz for me,” she told Karson, and then stepped out, eerily silent in her thick-soled shoes.
“Ms. Karson.”
Eve approached the woman in the bed. Mixed-race female, with gel patches on burns, sutures running down her left temple to the middle of her ear. Eve saw the gray pallor under the wounds, the stabilized shoulder, while the monitors gave their quiet, steady beep, beep, beep.
“Lieutenant Dallas. And Detective Peabody.” She didn’t smile. “I’m told you were here earlier when I was . . . unavailable.”
“We appreciate you seeing us now.”
“Five of my people are dead. People I knew, people who trusted me. I want justice for them, and I’ll have it, even though justice is pale and weak for those who loved them.”
She closed her bold, bright blue eyes, sighed. “I just sent my oldest friend—she came in from New Mexico—to my place to get me some personal items. But Anson, my admin, is around somewhere. He’ll be back, he won’t leave. He could get you coffee or a cold drink when he shows up again.”
“We’re fine. We’re sorry for your loss.”
“So am I. It’s incalculable, but I won’t let them win. They won’t win.”
“Win what?”
“The merger’s going through.”
“You believe this happened to stop the merger?”
“Of course I do. What other possible reason is there?”
“Who would have motive to stop it?”
“I wish I knew, specifically. Maniacs, someone hell-bent on stopping this progress, this deal. Someone with a stake in other transportation companies.”
“Have you received any threats?”
“No. I discussed just that with Loren—you met him before. I convinced him to go home, finally. I had to work myself up into a state.” She smiled a little. “I don’t do states, but I managed this one, and got him to go home to rest. I haven’t managed the same with Anson once they released him. He has a broken arm and burns, cuts and bruises. Maybe it’s as well he stays, in case he needs more treatment.”
She started to reach for the cup of water on her tray, winced.
“Let me get that for you.” Peabody stepped up, handed Karson the cup with the angled straw.
“Thanks. God it’s irritating to be stuck here—and that’s a terrible, selfish thing to say.” Those fascinating eyes welled up before Eve watched her will back the tears. “I’m alive, and I’ll recover. No threats, sorry.”
“Did you know Paul Rogan?”
“I came to know him during the course of the deal. His marketing concepts, angles, interest, were a plus for me. When this happened—only this morning? My God.”
She took a breath, sipped at the water. “When I first came to, understood what happened, I was stunned, because I liked him, respected him. I was so angry. Then Loren told me about his wife and daughter, about what was done. I want to be angry, I want to be enraged at Paul Rogan. But I can’t. I see his face now, how pale it was, his eyes full of tears, the way his hand shook. I can see that now, looking back. And, oh sweet Jesus, how Derrick walked right to him, laid his hands on Paul’s shoulders in concern, asking him what was wrong. I stepped back—you see, I stepped away to give Derrick and Paul a moment. We hadn’t merged yet, and this was Derrick’s man, his company, so I stepped away. If I hadn’t . . .”
“Did Rogan speak?”
“He said—I think: ‘I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice.’ I think. I can’t swear to it. And then it was like the world went white, blinding white, and I felt myself thrown back. A shocking, terrible pain.” Her hand crept to her side. “Then nothing. Just nothing, until I woke up in ICU.”
“Have you had to let any of your employees go in the last year? Anyone who might have caught wind of the merger, any of the details.”
“The serious talks didn’t begin in earnest until midsummer. We did begin sooner, of course, easily a year ago. Testing the waters, running the numbers, working out the legalities and regulations. But in earnest, with real purpose and direction, in July. We were able to keep it quiet and contained until the fall, but, of course, these things leak out. But to the point, there’s always some turnover.”
“Do any stick out?”
“I don’t micromanage my company.” That half smile again. “I’m sure many would disagree there. But I believe in giving my department heads authority, or they wouldn’t be department heads. Not all of my people were fully on board with the merger from the outset. They came around. If I knew or suspected anyone, absolutely anyone, capable of doing what was done, I’d tell you without hesitation. Is there anyone you suspect? Anyone?”
“We’re actively following any and all leads.”
Karson hissed out an impatient breath. “That’s company boss talk. It takes one to know one.”
“It’s still truth.”
A man, no more than thirty, handsome despite the burn gel, arm stabilizer, and the exhaustion in wide hazel eyes, came to the doorway.
“Willi.”
“It’s all right, Anson. It’s the police.”
He walked to the side of the bed, took her hand. “Why don’t I talk to them outside?”
“When they’re done with me.”
“Jeannie said to tell them their time’s about up.”
“And she’s fierce. Soften her up a little, would you? Get us another few minutes.”
“That’s all right,” Eve told them. “We have enough for now. If you think of any more, have any questions we can answer, you can contact either of us.”
“You need to keep me updated. There are memorials I won’t be able to attend. I need to know what’s happening.”
“We’ll keep you informed.” Eve glanced at Anson. “Why don’t we step out?”
“Let me get you some fresh water,” Peabody offered.
“Thanks. I don’t suppose you could talk Jeannie into some coffee? I’d settle for tea, even the herbal crap, but something that’s not flat water?”
“Let me see what I can do.”
Eve stepped out with Anson. He angled himself out of view of Karson’s bed, pressed his fingers to his eyes. “Anything I can do to help. I thought she was dead. I couldn’t do anything. My friend, one of my closest friends is dead. I watched it happen, and I couldn’t do anything.”
“How long have you been Karson’s admin?”
“Three and a half years. I was her admin’s assistant, and when Marcia retired, I took the position.”
“You knew about the merger from the outset?”
“Yes.”
“How did you feel about it?”
“Willi—Ms. Karson’s got the smartest business brain I know. And she cares, genuinely cares about not just the company but the people who work for her. It’s what makes Econo such a good fit with Quantum. Mr. Pearson had the same qualities, at least from my point of view.”