The Winner by David Baldacci

“Yes,” she said nervously, “I suppose I can. That’s why I called you back. I don’t want my name besmirched. I want you to know that I’ve been a very respectable member of this community for years. I’ve given generously to numerous charities, I sit on several local boards—”

“Ms. Reynolds,” Donovan interrupted, “do you mind if I call you Bobbie Jo?”

There was a perceptible wince on Reynolds’s face. “I go by Roberta,” she said primly.

Reynolds reminded Donovan so much of Alicia he was tempted to ask if they knew each other. He decided to pass on that impulse.

“All right, Roberta, I know you’ve done a ton of good for the community. A real pillar. But I’m not interested in the present. I want to talk about the past, specifically ten years ago.”

“You mentioned that on the phone. The lottery.” She swept a shaky hand through her hair.

“That’s right. The source of all this.” He looked around at the opulence.

“I won the lottery ten years ago, that’s hardly news now, Mr. Donovan.”

“Call me Tom.”

“I would prefer not.”

“Fine. Roberta, do you know someone named LuAnn Tyler?”

Reynolds thought a moment and then shook her head. “It doesn’t seem familiar. Should I know her?”

“Probably not. She won the lottery too, in fact two months after you did.”

“Good for her.”

“She was a lot like you. Poor, not a lot to look forward to. No way out, really.”

She laughed nervously. “You make it sound like I was destitute. I was hardly that.”

“But you weren’t exactly rolling in dough, were you? I mean that’s why you played the lottery, right?”

“I suppose. It’s not like I expected to win.”

“Didn’t you, Roberta?”

She looked startled. “What are you talking about?”

“Who manages your investments?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Well, my guess is it’s the same person who manages the money of eleven other lottery winners, including LuAnn Tyler.”

“So?”

“Come on, Roberta, talk to me. Something’s up. You know all about it and I want to find out all about it. In fact, you knew you were going to win the lottery.”

“You’re crazy.” Her voice was trembling badly.

“Am I? I don’t think so. I’ve interviewed lots of liars, Roberta, some very accomplished. You’re not one of them.”

Reynolds stood up. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

Donovan persisted. “The story’s going to come out, Roberta. I’m close to breaking through on a variety of fronts. It’s only a matter of time. The question is: Do you want to cooperate and maybe get out of this whole thing relatively unscathed or do you want to go down with everybody?”

“I . . .I . . .”

Donovan continued in a steady voice. “I’m not looking to wipe out your life, Roberta. But if you participated in a conspiracy to fix the lottery, in whatever manner, you’re going to take some lumps. But I’ll offer you the same deal I offered Tyler. Tell me all you know, I go and write my story and you do whatever you want to do until the story hits. Like disappear. Consider the alternative. It’s not nearly as pretty.”

Reynolds sat back down and looked around her home for a moment. She took a deep breath. “What do you want to know?”

Donovan turned on the recorder. “Was the lottery fixed?” She nodded. “I need an audible response, Roberta.” He nodded toward the recorder.

“Yes.”

“How?” Donovan was almost shaking as he waited for the answer.

“Would you mind pouring me a glass of water from that carafe over there?”

Donovan jumped up, poured the water, and set the glass down in front of her. He sat back down.

“How?” he repeated.

“It had to do with chemicals.”

Donovan cocked his head. “Chemicals?”

Reynolds pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at a sudden cluster of tears in her eyes.

As Donovan watched her, he figured she was near the breaking point. Ironic that the one to call him back would be the nervous Nellie type.

“I’m no scientist, Roberta, give it to me as simply as you can.”

Reynolds gripped the handkerchief tightly. “All but one ball, the one with the winning number, was sprayed with some chemical. And the passageway through which the ball traveled was sprayed with something. I can’t explain it exactly, but it made certain that only the one ball that wasn’t sprayed with anything went through. It was the same for all the other ball bins.”

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