Sometimes It Is Rocket Science (11 page)

Robert was silent on the drive to the garage.  He led the way into the kitchen.  While Georgiana greeted NORA, he retrieved a bottle of water from the refrigerator.  He shoved the bottle into Georgiana’s hands.  “Drink that.  All of it.  I need NORA to test your urine.”

Georgiana almost dropped the bottle.  Her jaw went slack.  Had Robert lost his mind?  “No!  I am not doing a blessed thing until you tell me what on earth is going on.”

Robert slipped his hands in his trouser pockets and leaned back against the kitchen island.  Though his stance was casual, he regarded her with a somber, steady gaze.  “My father was drugged with a nearly lethal combination of nicotine, caffeine, nitroglycerine, and GHB.”

Her heart lodged in her throat.  “Doctor Flores’ tests came in?”  At his nod, she sucked in a deep, fortifying breath.  Doctor Flores had been her father’s physician as well; she trusted him implicitly.  “What does this have to do with Prask?”

“Dad didn’t die.  He had time to get home, which is what ultimately saved his life.  The window of opportunity is narrow.  He had to have been drugged shortly before he returned to the house.”  Robert paused to make sure he had Georgiana’s full attention.  “Dad had lunch and a cigar with Walt Prask right before the ‘attack.’”

Georgiana silently unscrewed the top off the water bottle and noisily gulped the bottle’s entire contents.  With the back of a trembling hand, she wiped a droplet of water off her lip.  “I will be right back.”

Georgiana opened the powder room door to find Robert lounging against the wall beside the door.  Cheeks pink, she rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.  “I thought you were going to alter NORA’s testing spectrum.”

“Didn’t take all that long.  I have also temporarily limited the database so that we may have the results sooner.  NORA will alert us when the tests are complete.”

She started up the stairs to the guest room she’d claimed as hers years earlier.  Though her dress was relatively comfortable, she wanted to put a few additional layers between her skin and Robert.  To her dismay, he was right on her heels.  When he moved to follow her in the room she closed the door so swiftly it grazed the tip of his nose.

“I am merely concerned for your well-being, Georgiana.”

After extracting a pair of worn jeans and an equally worn t-shirt from a dresser drawer, she reached for the zipper of her dress.  Her fingertips brushed the cool metal, but she couldn’t get a good enough grip on it.  Claire had joked about intentionally designing the dress so that a woman didn’t go home alone.  At that moment, Georgiana could have cheerfully strangled her friend.

She jerked open the door and spun around so that her back was to Robert.  She gestured at the zipper.  “Don’t say a word,” she snapped before his husky laughter could permeate the air. 

No matter how hard she braced herself, the first touch of Robert’s warm, rough fingers on her back was a shock.  It reminded her of the time she’d made a mistake in one of her high school labs and electrocuted herself.  As soon as his knuckles scraped across the band of her strapless bra, she stepped back in to the bedroom.

“Thanks,” she muttered before closing the door.

“You’re welcome.”  His voice was rich with amusement.  “I’m here for you any time you need assistance undressing.”

Georgiana quickly changed out of her dress and, when a glance through the room didn’t reveal her canvas slip-on sneakers, stepped out into the hallway barefooted.  Her empty stomach burbled.  She pivoted on her heel and returned to the kitchen. 

“It doesn’t make sense,” she said, pausing on the fourth step from the bottom and curling her toes around the carpeted edge.  She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, missed the way Robert’s eyes darkened.  “Prask has no reason to want Dan dead.  There’s no gain in it for him.”

“He’s always been jealous of Dad’s success.”

“That’s not motive for murder.  Why would he risk everything just because he’s a little green with envy?  The potential cost far outweighs whatever pleasure he might have derived from the action.”

Robert smiled indulgently, wrapped an arm around Georgiana’s thin shoulders.  “You’ve never been a gambler have you, doll?  Life is not always about cost analyses and Venn diagrams.  Sometimes you have to make the big bets.”

“There’s no gain,” she insisted, resuming her trek to the kitchen.  “You’ll inherit nearly every bit of Dan’s estate.  He’s taken a backseat in the company.  His death wouldn’t impact stock prices severely enough to make a difference for Prask.  I just don’t understand
why
he would do it.”

“He did it.”

Georgiana blinked at his vehemence.  “I do not doubt that, Bobby.  I’m just trying to figure out the logic behind the attack.  If it’s because Prask wants something, then he’s likely to make a second attempt.  He doesn’t give up easily.”

Robert’s grip on her shoulders tightened momentarily.  “And he’ll continue going after you.”

She groaned, thumped her head against his shoulder.  “It was dinner.  The only thing I was in danger of was Prask flirting one too many times; nothing a decontamination shower couldn’t fix.”

“Is Tab your heir?”

“Of course.  Custody of him goes to Dan, assuming Tab’s still underage.  If Dan can’t do it, we have a great aunt in Thibodaux.”

“I spoke with a Detective Sanchez on my way to the restaurant.  Due to Prask’s standing in the community and the margin of error with the tests, there isn’t much they can do at this point.  Prask has not made any threats against you or my father, but the officer advised vigilance.  I don’t want anyone to be alone with Prask. ”

As soon as they reached the kitchen, she ducked out from under his arm and glanced around the gleaming kitchen.  The coffeemaker, which slid in and out of a hidden compartment on the counter, was missing.  Exhaustion weighed down her limbs and fogged her brain.  If she was going to make it through a night of
Clue
with Detective Robert, she needed caffeine.  “C’mon, NORA, what’d you do with the coffee?”

“Records indicate that you have had fifty hours of sleep over the past fourteen days.  Consuming caffeinated beverages in the evening is counterproductive to maintaining a regular sleep schedule.”

Georgiana splayed her palms on the cool countertop and counted to fifteen.  It wasn’t NORA’s fault.  She’d programmed NORA and ERIC to monitor occupant health and tasked them with helping keep the human residents in optimal health.  She’d been so focused on making sure Tab and Dan were cared for that she’d forgotten she would also be included in the monitoring.  As soon as she had a moment to spare, she was going to work out an exception algorithm.

The pantry door creaked open.  A robotic arm slowly extended from its hidden compartment with a loaf of wheat bread and plastic container of chocolate-hazelnut spread clasped in its pincer.  “Preliminary analysis of the most recent urine sample indicates that your blood sugar is well below normal parameters, Georgie dear.”

She crossed the room to take the bread and spread from the arm.  At least NORA remembered that the decadent, sweet spread was her favorite.  A sandwich was a poor substitute for the gourmet meal she’d abandoned, but it would stop her stomach from rumbling. 

“Can I at least have a glass of milk?” she asked as she retrieved a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  The light over the refrigerator flickered and a cabinet door opened.  Installing drink dispensers in Dan’s massive house had been on her to-do list for weeks.

Robert filled two glasses with milk.  When he set two small, white plates on the counter, she took the hint and made a second sandwich.  The silence between them was thick but not uncomfortable.  She wondered how much the tabloids would pay for a picture of their favorite heartthrob eating a dinner of Nutella sandwiches and cold milk.  A broad grin stretched across her face when he tilted his head to look up at her.

“What’s so funny?”

Georgiana took a large bite of her sandwich in lieu of answering.  It wasn’t fair that he could make a milk mustache so sexy.  She wanted to crawl across the counter and…

“Have I something on my face?”  Robert used a paper napkin to wipe the milk off his upper lip.  “Is that better?”

Georgiana nodded, washed down the lump in her throat with milk.  She needed to get her mind off utterly delectable he looked with traces of Nutella on his fingers and chin.  “How is it that you’re suddenly not engaged to Tammy?”

Robert’s jaw tensed.  “I was
never
engaged to Tammy.  That was a lie she told the security guards at the hospital so she could get access to my father’s room.  Had Allan been with me, she never would have gotten through the front door.”

“And that impressive rock on her finger?”

“She exchanged several of the gifts I had given her for the ring.  I believe she was also trying to get photographed with the ring to pressure me into proposing.”  He grinned wolfishly.  “I must admit that the tactic does have its appeal.”

“We are not engaged.”

“That’s not what everyone at O’Brien’s now believes.  It’s not going to hurt anyone if we play at being engaged for a while, so why not let the gossips have their fun?”

“Because we’re
not
.”

Robert’s eyebrows lifted.  His voice turned soft and dangerous; his eyes were unreadable.  “There isn’t a boyfriend or fiancé you’re hiding, is there?” 

She shook her head, dropped her gaze to the crumbs on her plate.  “There’s no one.  There hasn’t been since…”  She cut herself off before she could say the name she’d avoided for years.  Sucking in a fortifying breath, she met Robert’s curious stare.  “What did Prask mean about your board being happy about our engagement?”

Robert straightened and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Dad’s attack took us all by surprise.  It sent a majority of the directors into a panic.  I may be CEO and run the day-to-day operations, but they still see Dad as the lifeblood of NS.  They were very vocal in their concerns over my behavior and its affect on their confidence in my ability to lead, despite my track record.”

“So if you were engaged to someone, they would take that as a sign you were serious about the company and settling down.”  It stung that it wasn’t
her
the board would be pleased with but any woman with Robert’s ring on her finger.

“No, I imagine they would object to many of my previous associates.  The calls I got after you sent the flowers and started the rumors were more inquisitive than congratulatory,” he corrected.  “However, if I was engaged to you, the CEO of our closest corporate ally and a woman who has never been a tabloid headline, they would be the first to throw an engagement party.”

“My board would be beyond thrilled, too, I suppose.  They wouldn’t be so worried about me being overwhelmed if they knew you were supporting me.”  She had to admit that having Robert as a fiancé would ease a few of her problems but hated how clinical it made their relationship, such as it was, sound. Despite her fondness for logic and proofs, she wanted romance rather than a profit-and-loss analysis.

“Let’s do it.  Keep up the charade.  Ham it up for the cameras.  When we decide we’ve had enough, we’ll work out the best way to extract ourselves from the engagement.  What do you say, doll?”

She was saved from answering by the chirp of her cell phone.  ERIC’s name flashed on the screen.  “Did Tab finally make his mind up on what he wants for dessert?”

“Tab retired to his bed approximately thirty-seven minutes after you left.  Four minutes ago, he remained asleep but appeared restless.  His heart and respiration rates indicate that he is in the midst of a nightmare.”

Guilt settled in Georgiana’s stomach like a stone.  She’d always tried to be there for her brother when he’d had a nightmare. It was one of the reasons she’d given up sleep.  “Gradually turn on the lights and play the playlist titled NM1A.  I’ll be there as soon as I can.”  She didn’t want Tab to wake up alone, but she hoped the light and soothing music would help ease his terror.

“Bye, Bobby.  I’ll call you in the morning.”  Ignoring his protest, she grabbed her keys off the counter and sprinted to the front door.  She didn’t care that her purse was still in the kitchen or that she was barefoot.  Getting to Tab was all that mattered.  Tears blurred her vision.  The nightmares left him so shaken and scared.  She couldn’t bear for him to go through that by himself.

A large hand clamped around her wrist and yanked her backwards.  A second hand plucked the keys out of her grasp.  “Where are you off to in such a hurry, Georgiana?”

“Home,” she panted, heart thundering so hard her chest ached, “I need to be home.”

Robert ushered her to the passenger side of the car.  He opened the door and, once she was seated, buckled the seatbelt.  He dumped her clutch in her lap.  “You’re in no shape to drive.  I’ll not have your reckless driving do Prask’s job for him.”

She wanted to argue, wanted to toss him out of her car, but she didn’t have the strength.  Letting someone else take charge felt good.  Besides, it wasn’t as if she could keep the truth about Tab a secret from Robert for much longer. 

To his credit, he didn’t ask any questions on the short drive to her luxury, three-story townhouse.  As soon as he pulled in the garage, she had her seatbelt off and her hand on the door handle.  ERIC unlocked the door once the biometric scans were complete.

“ERIC, please give Robert Norwood the same access as user Daniel Norwood.  NORA has his information in her database,” she called out as she raced up the stairs.  She could worry about limiting his access once she’d taken care of her brother.

Tab’s hiccupping sobs were audible from the third floor landing.  Eyes stinging and sides aching, she burst into his dimly lit bedroom.  His eyes were squeezed shut and his fists were white around the edges of the blanket.  The man at her back completely forgotten, she slipped into bed beside her brother and scooted him on her lap.

Georgiana raked her fingers through Tab’s sweat-dampened hair.  He released the blanket and wound his arms around her waist.  He automatically tucked his head against the curve of her shoulder.  She rested her chin on the top of his head and tried to completely enfold him in a warm embrace.  She wanted to smother him with so much love there was no room for nightmares or guilt or depression. 

“Gigi,” he started before a sob broke free from his chapped, bloody lips.

“Shh, sweetheart,” she cooed, pressing her lips to his clammy forehead.  “I’m right here, Tab.  I’ve got you.  I’m right here.”

“They were screaming.  There was so… so much blood, and they were screaming.”

Her heart twisted.  Tab’s fertile imagination was making it harder on him.  The victims hadn’t screamed, as far as she knew.  All the reports she’d read indicated that they’d died on impact.  No matter how many times she explained that, he still heard phantom screams in his dreams.