“Keyon and George work for a security company called ABC Security,” Ava explained. “One of the conditions of my working for the Nutritional Supplement Council from day one has been to accept Keyon and George as my”—Ava groped for the right word—“minders or monitors, or, if you want to be totally pejorative, my babysitters. At first I rarely saw them, but that changed over the last year or so when things with my social media activities got out of hand.”
“What on earth does that mean?” Noah said. Although his mind was clearing, he still felt ungrounded as if in a dream state. “How did they help you with social media?” The idea seemed preposterous.
“There had been a few incidents of serious cyberstalking of my sockpuppets, particularly one called Teresa Puksar. Keyon and George had to take care of it before I was directly involved. Truthfully, I don’t know what they did, but they solved it and also any future problem by making sure I have proper encryption. And now that the Dr. Mason issue has died down and you are brought into the fold, I imagine I’ll see a lot less of them.”
“What do you mean when I am brought into the fold?” Noah said heatedly.
“That’s what we need to talk about,” Ava said. “But before we do, how do you feel, health-wise?”
“Reasonable, I guess,” Noah said, forcing himself to calm down. His emotions were all over the map. “I was dizzy when I first sat up, but that’s gone. The main problem is feeling totally out of it mentally.”
“Let me check your vital signs again,” Ava said. “You had quite a dose of midazolam. I’m surprised you don’t have more significant anterograde amnesia.” She used his right wrist to take his pulse. Then she used a blood-pressure gauge and a stethoscope that had been on the bedside table. Noah watched her as she concentrated, avoiding his line of vision as she wrapped the cuff around his upper arm, inflated it, and then gradually deflated it. A moment later, she was done. “Okay, your vitals are fine. Try to stand up and see how it goes.” She extended a hand, and holding on to Noah’s, she urged him to slide off the bed.
“Well?” Ava questioned once he was standing.
“I’m okay,” Noah said. He teetered a bit. “At least I’m not dizzy.”
“So far so good,” she said. “Would you like to use the bathroom? Your bladder must be about to burst.”
“Now that you mention it, I would,” Noah admitted. Until that moment it hadn’t occurred to him, but now that it was brought up, it seemed urgent.
In the bathroom with Ava waiting just outside, Noah’s mind was progressively moving into overdrive as he urinated. Although he remembered being knocked to the ground in the medical center parking lot, everything else was a blank, and it was disorienting not to have been aware of being transported all the way back to Boston and into Ava’s house. It was as if the Lubbock trip had been a dream. But there was one thing he was aware of for certain. Any suspicions he’d entertained about the NSC being ferociously protective of Ava were absolutely on the money. A private jet had been involved in getting him back to Boston, and he couldn’t even imagine what it might have cost.
“The reason I had you put in this bedroom is that it’s on the same floor as the study,” Ava said when Noah opened the door.
Holding on to the jamb to support himself, Noah stepped out of the bathroom.
“If you are up to it, we could go in there to talk,” Ava continued. “You might find it more comfortable and familiar. There is also some food and drink that I brought up from the kitchen in case you are hungry. What do you say?”
There were so many thoughts going through Noah’s mind that he didn’t have the ability to object. He had no idea of what time it was although he’d noticed the windows were dark. Ava urged him forward. Out in the hallway he saw Keyon and George. Dutifully they got out of the way as Noah and Ava passed. Noah glanced at their faces, impressed with their nonchalance. It was apparent they were professionals. And he did recognize George as the reputed physical trainer.
Ava helped Noah seat himself in his usual chair. She put a plate of small cocktail-style sandwiches, water, and Diet Coke within reach. There was also a plate of potato chips.
“I could get you some wine,” Ava said, as she watched Noah take one of the sandwiches.
“This is fine,” Noah said. After he took a couple bites, he poured himself some Diet Coke over ice. He thought the caffeine might help organize his thoughts, and his mouth was dry. He had no interest in wine.
Keyon and George had quietly followed them into the room and were standing off to the side, leaning against a floor-to-ceiling bookcase. Both had their arms crossed over their chests with the same calm, cool, in-control attitude they’d exhibited in the hallway.
“Do these thugs have to hang around?” Noah questioned, purposefully loud enough for Keyon and George to hear.
“I suppose not,” Ava said. “But they are party to all the details of this affair, as they have been the principal investigators. If it makes you more comfortable, they can wait downstairs.”
“It would make me more comfortable,” Noah said without hesitation.
“Would you mind?” Ava called out to Keyon and George. “If you are worried about him being a flight risk, how about waiting down by the front door?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Keyon said. Without another word the two men filed out, and they could be heard tramping down the stairs.
“All right,” Ava said. She sat down in her usual chair. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Fine by me,” Noah snapped. “What the hell is going on?”
“Calm down,” Ava said. “Keep in mind all this rigmarole has been caused by you and no one else.”
Noah laughed mockingly. “I hardly think that’s the case,” he said. As his mind had continued to clear, his irritation had mounted; so did his fears. “Before we talk of anything else, I want to know if your NSC friends had anything to do with the murder in Lubbock that’s been haunting me.”
“I don’t know anything about any murder,” Ava said. “Whose murder?”
“I had hired a private investigator who I’d found on the Internet. Her name was Roberta Hinkle. The night after I’d hired her, she was killed in her own home, supposedly by the disgruntled lover of one of her clients. Her investigative specialty was domestic issues.”
“Why on earth did you hire a domestic-issue private investigator?” Ava asked.
“I didn’t know it was her specialty,” Noah said irritably. “Her website didn’t suggest it. I hired her to do a background check.”
“Was this background check on me?” Ava asked.
“Yes,” Noah said. It was time for the truth, and he expected her to instantly become indignant, but to his surprise she didn’t.
“I don’t know anything about any murder,” Ava repeated calmly, “but I can tell you this: A private investigator nosing around in my personal business at this particular point in time would have made my employers at NSC very nervous and unhappy, to say the very least.”
“Are you suggesting the NSC was involved?” Noah said. He was horrified at the implications, as it would mean he, too, was indirectly responsible for the woman’s death.
“Certainly not directly,” Ava said. “The NSC would never do anything illegal. But what ABC Security might do, that’s another question. Do you remember Blackwater, the security company that was active in Iraq during the Iraq War?”