Page 119 of Lilly

"Do you have any ideas?"

"I have several. I just don't know if I'm correct."

Later that night, William and I work together to figure this out. He wasn't surprised he'd been drugged, but he never suspected the water cooler was the source. Since feeling ill, he's been very careful about what he eats and where it came from and who made it. He was equally diligent about his beverages, yet he hadn't considered the water cooler.

As soon as I left the office, I called one of my freelancers to track down the maintenance man who was responsible for replacing the water. It's a five gallon jug and had been replaced three times since William started having symptoms. The cameras in the office showed the maintenance man bringing the water in and leaving with the empty jugs, so we knew it was him.

The freelancer questioned the man an hour ago and the man spoke freely about what happened, indicating he had nothing to hide. He said he'd been instructed to add a vitamin powder to the water, but the instructions were given via a note that was left on the bottle, not in person, so he didn't know who wrote the note or who provided the powder.

"I think it was Phillip," I say to William as we sit in his study. He's looking and feeling much better now that he's gone almost a week without drinking that water.

"He didn't want me finding out what he was up to in regards to his plans for Lilly. He knew I'd tell you so he had to make sure I couldn't attend the meetings."

"Yes. But the fact that he's allowed this to continue, even after we discovered what he did, tells me that he's vying for your position, hoping they'll decide you're too ill to be an upper level member and must be replaced by someone else, specifically him."

William sighs. "As much as I dislike Phillip, I have to admit, it was a brilliant plan. Making me just ill enough that I have to take a leave of absence from the organization? Causing me to have symptoms that aren't easily diagnosed? Drugging me with something that wouldn't be tested for in the typical rundown of blood tests? And using my own pills to do it? It's very clever."

"Are you going to report him?"

"Not until I have proof that he did it."

"We won't be able to prove it. He covered his tracks. There's no evidence that proves who left the note, and the blood pressure drug could've been obtained from a physician using a fake patient name. Or maybe he bribed a pharmacist to give it to him."

"We could do some research to find out, but I doubt it will lead anywhere."

A thought crosses my mind. "What if I paid him a visit? Perhaps during one of his tennis matches when he's in need of some water?"

William chuckles. "I suppose you could do that. He plays tennis with Albert on Thursdays at noon."

Albert is one of the higher level members. He's retired so spends his days at the country club. Phillip is obviously trying to befriend him, hoping it will help him secure William's position should William need to be replaced.

I smile. "Then I guess I'll be going to the country club."

"I'd like to come with," William says. "But I won't show my face until after he's admitted it. We'll wire you so I can hear what he's saying."

"Excellent." I stand up. "I'm looking forward to it. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get some rest. Give my body time to purge this drug from my system."

"Certainly. Go ahead."

I had planned to fly home tomorrow but I need to settle this issue with Phillip. I also need to pay a visit to Katherine. I was going to wait until I'd thought about this some more, but there's no need to wait. My mind is made up.

Tomorrow I'll deal with Phillip. Friday I'll deal with Katherine.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Pearce

The next day, William and I drive to Connecticut to the country club where Phillip is playing tennis with Albert. It's twelve-thirty so the two men have been playing long enough to build up a thirst. William remains in the clubhouse while I go out to the tennis courts. I wait until they finish the match, then walk over to the court.

"Pearce," Albert says when he sees me. "What are you doing here?"

"Playing a round of golf. I had some time to kill and I've always liked this course."

"But why are you here in Connecticut?"

Phillip approaches us, dabbing his neck with a small white towel. He glares at me. "Yes, Pearce. Why are you here?"

From the side of my eye, I see the attendant removing the water bottles from the bench on the other end of the tennis court. I hired the boy to do it.

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