Touch & Go (Tessa Leoni, #2)(58)

“Besides,” Anita continued, “I wouldn’t include myself as a prospective buyer anymore. In the last few years, there’s been a shift in the industry. We’re a design-and-build firm, and unfortunately for us, the future of institutional construction seems to be companies that can design, build and operate. For example, a fully turnkey company that designs, builds, then runs the senior care facility on behalf of the state. Justin himself doesn’t believe this mega model will last. He’s convinced that, eventually, the operating costs of running these facilities will overextend the private firms just as much as it did the government agencies. Or, perhaps more prophetically, there will be some kind of scandal—an escape at a major prison, a death at a senior home—that will cause public backlash toward private handling of public institutions. But, in the meantime, given the number of jobs on which we’ve recently been outbid…” The COO thinned her lips, stopped talking.

“Tensions are high?” Special Agent Adams asked.

“We have the necessary cash reserves,” Anita replied, which Tessa took to mean that tensions were very high, and in fact, the future of Justin’s hundred-million-dollar firm wasn’t so certain after all. Interesting. If memory served, just an hour ago, in the conference room, the COO had stated emphatically that Justin had no angst over the future of the company and all was well on the corporate front. Now, suddenly the future wasn’t so bright, and here was a thought—Justin’s disappearance/untimely demise might allow for a significant change in corporate direction, possibly even save a sinking ship. Seemed like the column for winners in the event of Justin Denbe’s death was steadily racking up names.

“However,” Anita said abruptly, as if she’d read Tessa’s mind, “even if this firm ceased to exist, most people around here would survive just fine. There are old-timers”—she used the word dryly—“such as myself, who’ve logged enough of the good years, stuffing our mattresses. As for the younger guys, Chris and his crew, most of them could easily find a similar job at a rival firm with very little fuss. At the end of the day, this is all just…business.” Anita waved her hand. “And what about a day’s work is worth harming someone over?”

Good question, Tessa thought, and yet people got killed over money and business transactions all the time.

“Would you like to know the true paradox of the Denbe male?” Anita asked abruptly.

“By all means,” Tessa assured her.

“They may not be faithful, but they are loyal. Dale loved Mary. Justin, from everything I’ve ever seen, loves his wife, too. He would never choose divorce. And he would certainly never do anything to harm his family. Especially not Ashlyn. Dear God… I mean, maybe if only Libby were missing, some of your questions would make more sense. But you can ask anyone, everyone… Justin Denbe would never harm a hair on his daughter’s head. And if you understand that most of us here have watched Ashlyn grow up before our eyes… We’d never harm her, either. Whatever has happened…we’re not the problem. Justin’s not the problem.”

“Then who is?” Tessa couldn’t help herself.

“I don’t know. The kind of person who is heartless enough to attack an entire family. I mean, why?”

“Question of the day,” Tessa assured her. Personal or professional. Ransom or revenge?

“There is, maybe…one last thing.”

They glanced at Anita expectantly. “Last time I saw Libby was several weeks ago. She came in to sign some forms. She seemed…off. Actually, I had a flashback to Mary Denbe and her four-martini lunches. Except, Libby didn’t smell like alcohol.”

“You think she was under the influence?” Special Agent Adams pressed.

“I would guess she was on something, you know, trying to dull her pain. I almost said something to Justin, but then I thought, they’re already dealing with so much… We’re pulling for them. Despite what you may think, each of us here, we’re hoping the marriage works out. Once upon a time, they were such a great couple. We remember those days, even if they don’t.”

Anita seemed to finally run out of things to say. With no more revelations, they wrapped up the interview and exited the office. It was now after midnight. The other officers had already completed their interviews, the conference room deserted when they reentered it.

Just to be sure, Special Agent Adams walked the perimeter, peering through the frosted glass panes that overlooked the rest of the offices.

“The Boston detectives recovered a prescription bottle for hydrocodone in Libby Denbe’s purse,” she stated without preamble. “Filled two days ago, already one-third empty.”

Wyatt picked up the thought trail first. “Libby was abusing painkillers.”

“According to the pill count on the bottle, she’d taken twenty pills in just two days…”

“Can’t just be one prescription, then,” Wyatt mused. “Not if she’s using at that level.”

“Doctor shopping,” Tessa supplied. “A woman of her socioeconomics. Most likely she’s going from doctor to doctor, cataloging fictional pains.”

Wyatt turned to Nicole. “You said the prescription bottle was in her purse?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Meaning it was left behind.”