After the Fall (19 page)

“What the fuck?” Patrick exclaimed. “My biological father and the father I grew up with, both…murdered? This is too much…”

He pulled open the door, and had one foot in the hallway
before he turned. “Mom, this is truly a shock to me, but I want you to know that what I said about Mike and Kevin—that wasn't quite true. I did hear Mike talking to Kevin once about how weird Dad got when I had that operation. I think Mike might know. But even if he did, you should know all your sons better. They would never taunt me with something so hurtful.”

Laura felt a weight lift. Patrick had wanted to hurt her, but in the end, he couldn't.

“But are you going to tell them? The other kids? Or do you want me to tell them that I'm just their half-brother?”

“No, I should tell them,” she stuttered. “But how?”

Patrick turned back from the hallway. “We should tell them,” he said, “so there will be no more secrets. But right now, I need time to think about what you told me, to figure out what this means to me. I cannot imagine the effect right now. Whether my life will be different or impacted in some way. I'm sorry, but I have to go.”

“Where will you stay? You can't go back to New York tonight.” Always the anxious mother, especially with your youngest.

“I'm twenty-two years old, Mom. And Tim, again, sorry about dinner.” And then with a hint of a grin, Patrick asked, “And while we're at it, Tim, do you have anything you want to reveal?”

“Uh, no,” Tim said. “I've led a simple life. Always a bachelor.”

But not celibate
, Laura knew. But that was more than Patrick needed to know about Tim.

One of two horrible secrets that had haunted Laura for twenty-three years, now was in the open. The other was not marital infidelity, but murder. As much as she yearned to tell Tim, she'd decided against it. But the wild card that could change everything was Lonnie Greenwood and the call that she'd so far left unanswered.

S
UNDAY
, M
ARCH
1

Jake had rehearsed all night long different versions of what he'd tell Addie today. “Addie, I want to marry you, now.” “Addie, I want to marry you, but we have to wait until the police stop investigating Karolee's murder.” Like a scene in a Broadway play he'd once seen. “Addie, I killed Karolee so we'd be free to marry.” “Addie, I will convert to Islam if that's important to you.”

Convert to Islam? Would that mean no alcohol? Like he could do that! So he'd be like all the other religious hypocrites. Talk the talk; not walk the walk. The only other requirement he knew—besides not eating pork—was he'd have to kneel down and pray to the East. But maybe that was really just a myth? Jake had never seen Addie on her knees on a prayer rug. Maybe women needn't bother. They weren't worth much in the Muslim world. But they had to follow the rules.

Awaking from a restless sleep, Jake checked his bedside clock. Nine thirty. He hauled his legs over the edge of the bed. He'd be late for work and he had so much to do. Then he sank back into the pillows. Today was Sunday. A day with great promise. A day he and Addie would cherish forever. Their engagement day. Sometime during the night, during all that back-and-forth with himself, he'd decided to contact Addie today, to declare his love, to propose marriage. Once they were married, she'd be able to stay in the United States. Her
family would not be shamed. She'd come into her money from Immunone. They would be able to live anywhere. Screw Karolee and her goddamned will. He and Addie will have more money than that miserly bitch ever could have imagined.

Jake showered, dressed in gray slacks and a light-blue striped shirt, and went to the window. Clear bright skies, a good omen. He decided to stop for coffee and breakfast on his way to Addie's. Optimism always boosted his appetite.

After feasting on eggs, bacon, and pancakes, Jake pulled up to a parking spot on the crossroad by Addie's building. Before getting out, he hesitated for a moment, wishing he'd stopped for flowers. Addie loved roses. He imagined the smile that would break out on her gorgeous face. Nothing like the smile a diamond ring would bring. But the ring would have to wait. He wanted a huge stone, an elegant cut, one appropriate for her imminent status as a woman of wealth. When Jake did climb out of the car, he saw her at once; Addie, walking briskly toward her building. How perfect.

“Addie,” he called, rushing to her side.

She picked up her pace, ignoring him.

Jake increased his stride and reached to take her arm.

“Stop it.” She shook off his arm and marched forward.

Jake did not want a scene. Soon enough, he and Addie would no longer bother about who saw them in public.

In silence, side by side, they covered the distance to the door of her building.

“I'm coming in with you, Addie,” Jake said.

“No, Jake, you didn't even call me. I mean nothing to you—”

“Addie, not out here.” He reached over to put his hand on her shoulder, exhaling with relief when she did not brush him aside. With a nudge, he urged her inside and followed behind her as she stalked ahead to the elevator.

Addie unlocked the door to her apartment and let Jake enter behind her. Once she had bolted the door, he snatched her from behind, turned her around to face him and drew her into in his
arms. Before Addie could utter a sound, Jake covered her mouth with his, kissing her, burying his fingers in her long black hair. His heart accelerated as he felt her voluptuous body melt in his arms. She felt so perfect, so angelic. He had missed this woman so much. Never again would he be separated from her. Still locked in an embrace, they stumbled into her bedroom, onto her bed, and into blissful passion.

By late afternoon, sated, Jake and Addie showered, and she made a light lunch that they brought to the coffee table in the living room. “I still have some of that white wine,” Addie said, going back into the kitchen. “I almost threw it out, I was so mad at you.” She poured a glass for each of them.

They sat side by side on the sofa, tentative, sipping their drinks, neither one eager to start a difficult conversation. Jake knew Addie was upset and thought it best for her to speak her mind, then he would preempt with his proposal.
And don't forget to go over what she told the police about calling my house that night
.

“Jake, why didn't you call me?”

“I love you, Addie. So much that I had to hold back. My wife was murdered. I couldn't let you be drawn into it.”

“I don't understand,” she said, stroking his thigh with her delicate hand. Addie had only a sketchy idea of American justice.

“Addie, I want to marry you,” he said, taking her glass, setting it down and kissing her. “Will you marry me? Here, wait a minute.” Jake stood, then knelt and took her hand. “Marry me, Addie. You love me, don't you, Addie?”

Still on his knees, he waited. When Addie slowly opened her eyes, he was gazing directly into them. What he saw perplexed Jake. Shock? Fear? Concern? Not the unadulterated love he'd envisioned. She covered her mouth with her hands as he stood. Before he sat back down at her side, he stared at her for a moment. He couldn't read her body language. Jake felt a jolt of rejection. Then as Addie leaned into him, turning to take his face in her hands, he relaxed. Tears—of happiness?—rolled down her cheeks.

“Addie?” he prompted.

“All last week I did not hear from you. I'm frantic about Immunone. It must get approved. Nobody will tell me. You did not call me. I felt alone, abandoned. Like you did not care about me.”

“Addie, Addie, please. I love you. I want you for my wife. I just had to let the police investigation cool down.”

“They talked to me, you know. About a call I made to your house. I know I'm not supposed to call, but your wife was away…I didn't know she was dead, that the police were there.”

Jake had hoped to put off that conversation till later, but now he'd get it over with. “What did you say to them?”

“A woman answered. I thought it must be your wife. I just asked if you were there. She said no, so I hung up.”

“That's all?” Jake asked, relieved.

“Then.”

“Then?”

“The police were here. Twice. Detectives Booker and Finley. They left their cards. They were here yesterday. They'd traced the number. The police can do that in Iraq too.”

“Addie, I told you never—”

“All I said is that I needed information about my drug.”

Shit
. If the FDA found out he had a relationship with a drug company employee, he'd be fired outright. How far would Booker and Finley go with this? Would they trace it back to the FDA? Interrogate his boss? Others in the department? He'd always been careful where he went with Addie. Had he messed up? Had someone seen them out together?

“So, do they know? About you and me?”

“I don't think so. They seemed nice, for police officers.”

Okay
, Jake thought. He'd say, “Look—this woman is a foreign scientist, not a DC bureaucrat, she's not up on conflict of interest. Somehow she got his home phone number and called. Inappropriate, yes, but, different culture and all that, what could he do?”

Jake wanted to forget all about Karolee and the murder investigation. He had to convince Addie they should get engaged now, but secretly—only tell her family. Wait a few months for the police to shelve his wife's murder. Meanwhile, if her father knew she was engaged to be married, wouldn't he stop pressuring her to return to Iraq?

So many uncertainties. Jake's job might be project management, but when it came to managing his own life right now, he was in a mess. At least Karolee was out of the way. And Dr. Fred Minn's role in the Immunone approval eliminated. But the Immunone approval schedule was becoming a double-edged sword. The options: 1) Fast approval: Addie gets the money, stays in the US during a secret engagement—best case; 2) Fast approval: Addie defers to her father and returns to Iraq, despite this secret engagement and never returns—disaster; 3) Deferred approval: Addie stays employed in the US long enough to get her money—still the safest bet. Dr. Minn did not die in vain.

Addie interrupted this analysis, pulling Jake back into the moment. She was telling him that some guy had come to see her. An Iraqi named Dru.

“Dru?” Jake repeated. “Sorry, I'm not following.”

“The night I called your house, he was here with me. He insisted I call you. Wanted me to tell you to please get Immunone approved quickly. He said he'd be back, but I haven't heard anything more from him.”

“Who is this Dru guy?”

“He was my mentor, I guess you'd say, when I came to the University of Michigan. I had a research fellowship so I didn't need money for tuition, but he'd check to make sure I had a decent place to live, enough money to get by. A go-between. Connected to the Republic of Iraq and my father.”

Jake realized how little he knew about Addie's ties to Iraq, her family's status there, her religion, the politics, the anti-West sentiments.

“So what did this Dru guy want?” Jake wanted off this topic, too, and back to talking about their life together.

“He's a banker and he'll help me manage the Immunone money. He seemed anxious. I know my father wants me back in Iraq, but I don't want to go until I collect the money. Jake, that money is my freedom. My insurance policy. You don't understand how they treat women in my country. Women intrinsically have less value. If I have that money put away, even if they exile me, I'll be okay. Security, but…” She stopped talking, stood up, and started pacing back and forth in front of the sofa. “…I think I can trust Dru…”

“Addie, you can trust
me
. You're going to be
my
wife. Together we'll figure it out.” Jake patted the sofa beside him. “Now, come. Let's talk about you and me, my love.”

“You make me feel safe, Jake.” She snuggled next to him again. “And now that your wife is gone, do you really think we could be married? I used to dream about it, but never—”

“Yes, Addie, yes, yes, yes.”

“Can I tell my family?” Jake saw a cloud come over Addie's face. “But they'll consider you an infidel—”

“Yes, you can tell your family.” Jake beamed, glowed, kissed her hand. Addie and he would be together. That's all he wanted. “I'll convert to Islam if that would make you happy.”

“You will?” Addie's dark eyes widened.

“Gladly,” Jake said, confident that such a transition would be trivial. “But there's only one thing, my love. We have to keep our engagement a secret for now—except for your family. The Rockville police have to close out the investigation of Karolee's death.”

Jake saw the disappointment in her eyes. “For how long?” she asked.

“Until they find out who killed her.” Jake so wanted to say, I killed her, Addie. I killed Karolee so I could be with you. “But we can wait so long as we know we'll be together for the
rest of our lives. Besides, until Immunone gets approved, we cannot have a public relationship, or people will think I've given the drug special treatment and that would cause serious delays.”

“I don't think that's right,” she protested.

“So will you marry me, Adawia Abdul?”

“Yes, I will, Jake Harter.”

M
ONDAY
, M
ARCH
2

The conference door opened. Clutching papers in both hands, Louis Sigmund headed to his seat at Laura's first staff meeting. His jaw tightly set, the VP of regulatory affairs, distributed a sheet of paper to each member of her management team, and said, “Bad news about Immunone. We just got a fax from Jake Harter. The FDA is questioning the deaths in the trials.”

“What?” Win White, the medical director, was on his feet. “They fucking can't. We've been all through that,” he shouted. “They have every detail. That data is as clean as it gets.”