Death Match by Lincoln Child Read Free Book Online Page B

Facilitation Services
, Lash recalled as he followed Mauchly.
Whatever the hell is that?
Aloud, he asked: “Why all the happy faces?”
    â€œSorry?”
    â€œDownstairs, in the lobby. Everybody was grinning as if they’d won the lottery or something.”
    â€œAh. Today is class reunion.”
    â€œClass reunion?”
    â€œThat’s our term for it. Part of our client contract calls for a mandatory six-month revaluation of the couples we’ve brought together. They return for a day of one-on-one sessions, encounter groups, the like. For the most part, quite informal. Our researchers find the back-end data helpful in refining the selection process. And it allows us to watch for any signs of incompatibility, warning signals, between couples.”
    â€œSeen any?”
    â€œNone to date.” Mauchly opened the door, ushered Lash inside. If he was curious, it did not show in his dark eyes. “Would you care for any refreshment?”
    â€œNo thanks.” Lash slipped his satchel from his arm and took the indicated chair.
    Mauchly sat down behind his desk. “We didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
    â€œThat’s because there’s not much to tell.”
    Mauchly raised his eyebrows.
    Lash leaned over, unfastened his satchel, and pulled out a document. He straightened its edges, then placed it on the desk.
    â€œWhat is that, Dr. Lash?” Mauchly asked.
    â€œMy report.”
    Mauchly made no move to pick it up. “Perhaps you could summarize it for me.”
    Lash took a deep breath. “There are no indicators for suicide in either Lewis or Lindsay Thorpe. None at all.”
    Mauchly folded one muscular arm over the other, waited.
    â€œI’ve spoken to family, friends, doctors. I’ve examined their credit histories, financial records, employment status. I’ve called in favors from federal and local law enforcement. This was as functional, stable a couple—a
family
—as you’ll ever find. They could have been poster children for that wall of happy faces down in your lobby.”
    â€œI see.” Mauchly’s lips pursed into what might have been a frown. “Perhaps there were prior indicators that—”
    â€œI looked there, too. I checked school records, interviewed teachers, spoke with former classmates. Nothing. And no psychiatric history, either. In fact, the only hospital visit was by Lewis, who broke a leg skiing in Aspen eight years ago.”
    â€œThen what is your professional opinion?”
    â€œPeople don’t just commit suicide for no reason. Especially double suicide. There’s something missing here.”
    â€œAre you implying—”
    â€œI’m not implying anything. The police report reads suicide. What I mean is, I don’t have enough
information
to form an opinion on why they did what they did.”
    Mauchly glanced at the report. “It appears you’ve done a thorough investigation.”
    â€œWhat I need is in this building. Your evaluations of the Thorpes might give me the psychological data I need.”
    â€œYou must know that’s out of the question. Our data is confidential. Trade secrets are involved.”
    â€œI’ve already signed a nondisclosure agreement.”
    â€œDr. Lash, it’s not my call to make. Besides, it’s unlikely you’d find anything in our test results you have not already found on your own.”
    â€œPerhaps. Perhaps not. That’s why I’ve also prepared this.” Lash withdrew a small envelope and placed it atop the sheaf of papers.
    Mauchly cocked his head inquiringly.
    â€œIt’s a breakdown of my expenses. Time billed at my usual consultation rate of $300 an hour. I didn’t charge overtime. Airplane tickets, hotel rooms, rental cars, meals, it’s all there. Just a shade over $14,000. If you’ll initial the amount, I’ll write you out a check for the balance.”
    â€œWhat