The Silence That Speaks (Forensic Instincts 4)

“Damn,” Janet said. “That’s going to take us at least a half hour in traffic. They’ll be looking for you by then.”

“I can’t help that,” Madeline replied. “But I’m the only one who knows that information. Even Conrad doesn’t know where I stored the recordings. He was already on sabbatical when I made the arrangements.”

Janet’s gaze flickered to Madeline’s purse on the passenger seat. “Give me your purse.”

The panic resurged, although Madeline complied, placing her purse into Janet’s waiting hand. “If you’re looking for the key, it won’t help you. There’s a security check at the mini-storage. The management knows me there. You won’t be able to get to the storage unit.”

“Point taken. Which means you’re still useful.” Through the rearview mirror, Madeline could see Janet’s eyes narrow as she tossed the purse on the backseat next to her. “Start driving. And I know the city like the back of my hand. So don’t do anything stupid.?

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* * *

Marc had already punched in the code on the Hirsch pad and opened the front door when Aidan came striding up to FI at a near-run.

“Upstairs. Conference room,” was all Marc said.

The two men took the stairs to the main conference room. The whole team gathered around the table as Aidan sat down at the computer—which was already fired up—and inserted the USB drive.

“Yoda, display the whiteboard,” Casey commanded.

“Whiteboard displayed,” Yoda replied, just as a virtual white board appeared on the wall.

Aidan called up the files on the keyboard and indicated the two-line list.

“Janet Moss’s file is twice the size of the other women’s. That clued me in to the fact that she was significant in your investigation.” He pressed a button and opened Janet’s file. “Here’s all the information you need.”

Page one appeared on the wall.

“I don’t give a shit about the sex poses,” Marc said impatiently. “Lexington could have screwed her upside down for all I care.”

“Wait,” Aidan told him.

He scrolled through the pages, and about five pages in, the pertinent data started showing up.

First came the fact that Ronald had met Janet at a medical seminar he was speaking at, and she was attending to learn more about hospital career opportunities.

“Look at the date of the seminar,” Casey said. “That was almost twenty-nine years ago. Janet’s only been at Manhattan Memorial for twenty-six years.”

“So we’re talking about a very long-term relationship that started before Janet even walked through the hospital doors.” Ryan’s brows were knit as he concentrated.

“Janet got pregnant a few months later,” Claire exclaimed, pointing. “My God, that means that Diana is Ronald’s daughter.”

“The question is, did he know...yes, he did,” Casey said, studying the next pages, which were a lengthy accounting spreadsheet. “He paid a chunk of money for Janet’s medical bills and living expenses.”

“Yeah, and he stashed her away near Belleayre Ski Center in upstate New York at the end of her pregnancy and through the first few years of Diana’s life,” Marc added.

At that, Ryan moved to a second computer. “Yoda, give me another screen.”

“Done, Ryan.”

A second virtual whiteboard appeared. Ryan punched furiously at the keyboard while the others continued talking.

“No wonder Janet made her way up the ladder so quickly once she came to Manhattan Memorial.” Casey leaned forward, still studying the spreadsheet and the notes attached to it. “Ronald was not only paying her an exorbitant salary with huge raises, but he was promoting her like crazy—right up to being his assistant.”

“Talk about buying silence,” Marc muttered.

“Guys, look at this.” Ryan’s head shot up and he stared at the second screen. “Yoda, please display.”