"Elise, could you please close the door.""Sure." She was getting up. "Is this the quorum? You don't want anybody else here?""We have to decide what to do about Katherine Starr," Ellen began. "In my opinion, the absolute first thing we have to do is make sure the story of what just happened never leaves this building.""Well, I think Dr. Vee should call the police and have her arrested" Elise said as she quietly shut the door. "The very idea. Barging in here with a loaded gun.""I don't feel safe in the lobby anymore," May Gooden declared. Her face was lined and she had streaks of premature gray. "We're all exposed out here in the middle of nowhere. I think Charles should have a pistol. What good is it having a 'security guard' if you're still not secure.""Mary, what do you think?" Ellen asked. She knew Mary would always try to split the difference and reconcile differing opinions."I don't know. Maybe it was just the case of one crazy person. It's probably not going to happen again."Okay, Ellen thought, that's three different votes. Call the cops, beef up security, or put our collective heads in the sand.She worried about the others, but she was also worried about her own situation. Her husband Harold left her eight years ago for a younger woman, and after reclaiming her maiden name, she'd raised their two young sons on her own. Now the oldest, Eric, was ready to start college and she had no idea how she was going to pay for it if she lost this job.The Gerex Corporation paid her almost twice what she would be earning as an R.N. at an ordinary hospital. With her current salary, she had a shot at providing the boys with an education. Without it—if Gerex got embroiled in some horrible scandal and was put out of business—she had no hope whatsoever.Even worse, she might be named as being complicit in some unethical shenanigans, knowingly putting a patient at risk in a human trial. That would certainly drive a stake into the heart of her nursing career."Elise, we'd better think long and hard about bringing in the police. They would talk to Katherine and she'd tell them Kristen was missing and we simply have no idea where it would end." She paused. "I'm about to say something I shouldn't, but I guess this is the moment. You all deserve to know an important fact. The NIH has not been told the reason Kristen Starr was terminated from the stem cell program.""How do you know that?" Elise asked."I just checked the reporting records. Call it a hunch. We all know that, for a formal clinical trial, that's a flagrant violation of NIH rules.""What are you saying?" Mary asked, her voice filling with alarm."I'm saying we have no choice but to keep this whole matter of Kristen and her mother under cover. If the Dorian Institute gets caught tampering with the data from a clinical trial, it could be the end of everybody's career. Dr. Van de Vliet's certainly, but most probably ours as well.""My God," Elise blurted out "Did we have to wait till some crazy person with a gun barged in here before you got around to telling us that clinical‑trial data had been fiddled with?""Maybe Dr. Vee still intends to provide a full report to the NIH. Whatever he intends, if this whole matter blows up, the less any of us knows about what may have gone on, the better.""Well," Elise declared, "I think they all should be confronted. The clinical trials aren't over yet. There'll be a final report so he can still give the NIH whatever data had been left out. We should confront him and demand that he give a full accounting in the final report Otherwise we all could end up being part of some conspiracy.""Maybe we ought to think this over for a few days before we do anything drastic," Mary said. "We don't know what he intends to do and there's still time. If we start giving Dr. Vee ultimatums, it's just going to upset him even more. He could have been killed taking the gun away from her. He's got enough to worry about just now. Maybe he's going to handle her special case some other way that we don't know about.""My concern right now," Ellen said, "is the people who work under us. I don't think pulling an ostrich number is going to protect anybody. We've got to get out of denial and face up to how serious this might get. And I'll tell you our number one priority right now. If Katherine Starr walks out of here before the Kristen problem is cleared up and gets the ear of someone in the media, then everybody who works here . . . Let's just say we mustn't allow that to happen. That's why we're having this meeting.""Are you suggesting we should keep her . . . sedated?" Mary asked. "All her medications have to be approved by—""No sedative should be listed on her chart and I'm not telling you what to do, but use your imagination."There was a moment of silence as the implications of the unspoken order settled in."And starting immediately, we need to hold a meeting of the staff on each floor and impress on them that the story of Katherine Starr must never leave this building. Ever. Remind everybody that that would be a serious violation of a staffer's original security agreement and would subject them to legal action the likes of which they can't even begin to imagine. And if somebody comes around asking questions about Kristen Starr, nobody here knows anything. We can say she was here because that's part of the record and she is no longer here. End of statement. Beyond that, nobody knows zip."This problem is far from over, Ellen told herself. God only knows how it's going to end.Chapter 23Wednesday, April 83:22p.m.As Stone Aimes stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor, his mind was running through his options. This phone call had to be about Winston Bartlett. He was going to step up the pressure. First there was the hellfire meeting in Jane's office, and now he'd seen a kidnapping. Maybe this was about that. Was Jane going to pass along a threat of legal action if that crime got reported?The managing editor, Jay, had left a message with the third‑floor receptionist, Rhonda, to be forwarded to Stone. Gist: he was urgently required in the office of their corporate counsel.What does this tell me? he wondered. That they're going to try to do something to me that could have legal ramifications?No, more likely it means that I'm going to be given an ultimatum, maybe an injunction. And Jane gets to deliver it with all the legal trimmings.Still, he was determined to go on. "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you jive." Right? Well, not necessarily. But at the least, the truth could make a hell of a book. And with that came financial freedom, at least for a while. . . .The hallway felt desolate and ominous as he walked through the doorway that opened onto the cubicles. Jane Tully was down on the third floor, but he wanted to stop by his desk first and see if there’d been any further communications from Winston Bartlett. Possibly there still could be a deal in the makingThe room itself was silent, no one meeting his eye. Maybe, he thought, it's the middle of the afternoon and everybody's dozing off from a late lunch. But when he got to his cubicle, he realized why he had suddenly become invisible. The top of his desk was bare, and there were three large cardboard boxes sitting on the gray carpet next to it."I think I get the picture," he said to the empty space.It looked like Winston Bartlett had just provided him with a career decision. For a moment he felt his life passing before his eyes, but then all he could think about was the future. This was not just the end of a wage‑slave era; it was the beginning of the next phase of his life.He saw everyone still avoiding his eyes as he turned around and walked back to the elevator. How much did Jane know about this? She had to know everything, which was why Jay sent him to see her. She would have no qualms about giving someone the ax, including a former lover.When he stepped off the elevator on the third floor, Rhonda looked at him as though he were a corpse."She's—""I know she's here. Don't bother buzzing her."He strode purposefully down the hallway, realizing it was probably the last time he'd ever walk it, and pushed open Jane's door. She was on the phone and looked up startled putting her hand over the mouthpiece."What—""Just came to say farewell. Jay told me to come see you. Iguess he was sure you'd want to be part of this important life moment.""Stone, for God's sake"—she turned back to the phone—"let me . . . I'll call you tomorrow." She slammed down the receiver. "You have to know I had nothing to do with this. Bartlett got to the Family. I think it was one of those noblesse oblige kind of things. Old Money meets New Money and needs to placate it. The Sentinel is only marginally a profit‑making enterprise and the last thing they need is a lot of shit from their landlord. He wanted you gone. And since your job was a small price for them to pay to ensure domestic tranquility, do the math. Sorry, but that's how it had to be. For God's sake, Stone, why did you drive him to this?"The ironic thing was, she was managing to look vaguely contrite—tugging at a lock of short hair. He wasn't sure how she had the brass. Apologies from the executioner are traditionally a tough sell."Let me tell you something, Jane. I already know more about Winston Bartlett than he wants. He had somebody kidnapped today before my very eyes. I even got slugged trying to stop it. So you can tell his lawyers to tell him he'd better back off. The people who did it were recognized and they work for him. If he wants to play tough, I could have a heartfelt exchange with somebody I know very well at the Sixth Precinct, and also with the tabloids, where I know a shitload of hungry columnists. Winston Bartlett could get real famous, real fast""Stone, you brought this on yourself. I tried to warn you, but you're hell‑bent on your own destruction. You're your own worst enemy." She picked up her Blackberry and switched it off and sighed. "You never listened to me before and I don't expect you to do it now, but take some free advice anyway: try not to piss off important people. It is frequently a negative career move.""Jane, you know John Kennedy once said, 'Sometimes party loyalty asks too much,' and I think that moment for me, isnow. From here on, I'm going to be doing what I need to do, not what Bartlett or Jay or whoever tells me to do. I guess that includes you too. There comes a time when I have to do what's in my heart."She was finally focusing, looking at him strangely. "Stone, what did you just say? Bartlett had somebody kidnapped? Today? What on earth are you talking about?""Did I secure your vagrant attention? Good. Actually, it was less than an hour ago. There's no point in going into details, but I'm pretty sure she was the patient terminated from the clinical trials at the Dorian Institute that I had you ask Bartlett's lawyers about. I think there's the possibility that something really weird began happening to her out there in New Jersey. But I didn't get a chance to talk to her because they grabbed her and took off.""Well, what do you think happened to her out there?""The only thing I've heard and that's secondhand is that she lost some part of her memory. She's even having trouble remembering her name.""How do you know all this?" she asked staring at him. "Were you—?""I . . . know somebody who talked with her this morning. Just a few short exchanges on the phone. That's all I can tell you. They're doing something very powerful there at the institute, but in her case it seems to have gone horribly wrong. That's my best guess. So they dropped her from the clinical trials and gave her a new identity and stashed her someplace incommunicado. But she got away for a couple of hours, somehow, and managed to go back to her old apartment. In her case, it's a Village town house. But Bartlett nabbed her back.""If you really believe all that, Stone, shouldn't you be worried for your own safety?" It was clear she was finally taking him seriously."Bartlett got me fired. That's probably enough for now. I don't know enough to be a threat to him. Yet.""But what if you find out . . . whatever it is you're looking for? Then—""Then I'll know if medical miracles sometimes come with a strange price."She was looking at him, pity entering her dark eyes. "What are you going to do for money? The child support you send to Amy?" She hesitated. "I'm so sorry about this, Stone. If you need a little help for the short term, I could—""Don't go there. I can take cash out on a couple of credit cards. And when I turn in the manuscript for the book, I'll get the other two‑thirds of the advance. After that, I'm hoping I might get an actual career.""Oh, Stone, I'm really sorry about this," she said with feeling. "Truly I am. I. . . I guess I still enjoy seeing you. Having you around. You're a mensch, you know that? Whatever your other failings, and God knows they're plenty, you were always kind. You're even kind to people who don't necessarily wish you well.""Well, tell that to Amy if you ever get the chance. Sometimes she thinks her dad is the meanest guy alive. Particularly when I don't honor her every whim.""You're a good father too." She sighed.For Stone, this was always the moment that he wanted her back—when she let her guard down."Dammit, Stone, why couldn't we make a go of it?""We stopped having fun, Jane. That's all that happened. I started to bore you. Back then I didn't provide enough excitement, enough Sturm und Drang in your life.""You weren't dull, Stone, but sometimes you could be maddeningly smug.""That may be about to change. Now that I'm an unemployed freelancer. And I just ran into a blast from the past. Who knows what my life is about to be like?" He turned to leave. "By the way, give my best to Jay. Hopefully, he'll be the last managing editor I'll ever have to suck up to."“Take care, Stone." She was getting up. "You can fightthis, you know. They had me write up some kind of bullshit breach‑of‑contract brief, in case you wouldn't go quietly. But it's full of holes. I know, since I deliberately wrote it that way.""Hey, thanks anyway. It's not worth it. I'm not going to fight to keep a job I never liked all that much in the first place. Every time I wanted to do some serious journalism—like that piece about using the Internet to store everybody's medical records—Jay always found a reason not to run it. I've only got so much dignity to lose."He turned and strode out of the office, deciding to forego any more farewells. Besides, he had better things to do. Get somebody from the mailroom to carry the boxes—the shards of his erstwhile, so‑called career—to the lobby, where he could get a cab. Take the files home, stash them, and then get going.Chapter 24Wednesday, April 84:40p.m."Hi," he said, walking through the door of Ally's downtown studio, CitiSpace. Jennifer had the desk at the front and she served as a makeshift receptionist. She looked up as he continued, "I don't have an appointment, but I'd love to see Ally Hampton. Any chance?""And you're . . . ?"Just as he started to tell her, Ally emerged from her office/cubicle in the back and spotted him."Stone! What—""Bet you didn't think you'd see me again quite so soon."She felt her pulse jump. No, she hadn't. She'd told him she was going down to the office, but she'd certainly had no idea (or hope) he'd just show up a couple of hours later.Since she got back to the office she'd been in a struggle with her conscience over what to do about Kristen. Was there any good to be served by bringing in the police? At the time it had seemed pointless and it still felt that way. The whole matter was awfully anecdotal.Worse, she didn't really feel she should talk it over withJennifer, which she would have loved to do. They supported each other in a lot of things, but this crazy story would just freak her out. Why do that?The more troubling thing was, she’d started feeling tired and slightly dizzy. Now she was just hoping to stay focused long enough to last out the day. What, she wondered was happening to her? It wasn't like a chest‑tightening spell of angina—which, thankfully, she hadn't had for a couple of days now. No, this just felt like something was sapping her energy. She couldn't help the suspicion that this queasy condition was somehow related to her encounter with Dr. Van de Vliet's testy blond colleague Debra. While she was supposedly taking that blood sample, was she also doing something else?"Welcome to my home away from home. You're right, I didn't expect—""CitiSpace," he interjected seeming to try out the word as he looked around She noticed that Jennifer and the others automatically assumed he was a new client of hers and were trying to look preoccupied. Jen, however, was giving him a furtive appraisal, running the numbers. He was a decent looker, actually kind of cute, and he seemed pleasant and outgoing. Not a bad start. That was what she would say the moment he was out of earshot."You like the name?""Not bad. Sort of a takeoff on Citibank?""My dad came up with it back before they copyrighted that name. Maybe they stole the idea from us." She was feeling cheered by the sight of him. Yes, it was good to have him back for a while, maybe longer. "But come on, let me introduce you around"Which she did. Jennifer gave her a telepathic glance that said This guy looks like he might be worth the effort. What's the deal?Then they went to Ally's office, a high‑walled cubicle in the back with a computer and a drafting table. She had a CAD program running."Sorry to just invite myself down like this," he said, "but I got off work early. Matter of fact, I just became a freelancer. My office now consists of three cardboard boxes in my walk‑up apartment.""What do you mean? That phone page? Did—""Winston Bartlett owns the building where the Sentinel's offices are. Seems he convinced the management that it would be in their interest if I were no longer employed there. I gather he thinks I know more than I actually do about what's going on out at the Dorian Institute, and I guess he thought getting me fired would slow me down. What it has done, however, is to give me even more incentive to surpass his most paranoid assumptions. Now I'm going to take him on full‑time. I want to know everything.""Oh, Stone, I'm so sorry." She wasn't buying his bravado. He didn't look like a guy who could last very long without a paycheck."I have to say he gave me fair warning. That meeting where he yelled at me. This little turn of the screw is not a total shock.""But that whole thing with Kristen . . . I'll bet that's what sent him over the edge. I shouldn't have gotten you involved in that.""This had nothing to do with you, believe me." He shrugged "Besides, it gives me even more motivation to finish the book fast. And I'm also looking forward to spending some of my newfound quality time with you again, if you'll let me. In your favor, you've actually been inside the Dorian Institute, which is more than I can say."She wasn't a big believer in the magic of a second time around—that would have to await further evidence—but having Stone back in her life was definitely helping on the psychological‑support front."I'm thinking," he went on, "that maybe we should go back to Kristen's apartment and turn the place inside out. Do it right. We both let ourselves get distracted by the little matter of our other lives.""Stone, I'm not sure"—she lowered her voice and sat down at her desk—"but I may be having a reaction to something one of Van de Vliet's research assistants did to me out at the institute this morning. I don't know. I'm just feeling sort of weak and... funny. I'm thinking maybe I should call out there and talk to him." She took a deep breath and seemed to be mounting her courage. "Or if he needs to see me, could you possibly drive for me? I'm not sure I'm up to it""Hey, I'd love a chance to get inside that place." Then his eyes grew uncertain. "But are you sure you want to go back, after what seems to have happened to Kristen? You might consider waiting till we find her and—""Ally, are you all right?" Jennifer was walking in, carrying a manila folder. "You look kind of queasy. Can I make you some tea or something?""Thanks but not now," she said. "I'm feeling weird, but maybe I should call out to the institute and see what Van de Vliet says.""Just don't agree to do anything until we talk," Stone said."Don't worry," she said reaching for the phone. The number for the Dorian Institute was now newly entered on her Palm Pilot and she called it. When the receptionist answered she gave her name and asked for Dr. Van de Vliet. "I was there this morning and gave a blood sample to Dr. Debra Connolly. I don't know if there's any connection, but I'm really feeling strange right now.""What do you mean by 'strange'?" the woman asked. "Can you describe how you feel exactly? He's in the lab downstairs.""That's just it I'm not sure I need to actually see him. I'd just like to talk to him.""He doesn't like to be disturbed. Unless it's something very important.""It's important enough for me to try to call him," she declared feeling herself abruptly seething. "I'm weak and dizzy. And my stomach is not in such great shape either.""What did you have for lunch?"My God, she realized she hadn't actually had any. After the disaster with Kristen, she'd been in such turmoil that she hadn't even thought about food.On the other hand, she knew what food deprivation felt like. This was something else."I didn't have all that much lunch, but that's not the problem. Now will you please put me through?""Let me see what I can do," she said. "I'll call down and ask him. He might be able to see you."Ally listened as the line went blank.That was when she remembered she had some smoked turkey in the office fridge. Maybe a quick sandwich was called for.While she waited, Stone was looking around the offices, taking everything in. Carrying the phone, she walked out and followed him. What, she wondered, was the place telling him about her? The meager furniture was low‑slung and utilitarian, with lots of beige and dark brown. And there were several huge storage files for blueprints and designs. There also was a comfortable easy chair and lamp near a bookcase in the corner. On the table next to the chair were two British mysteries and a thick, recently written history of New York City.He walked over and picked it up. It was 760 pages long.“This your idea of reading for relaxation?" he asked, waving it at her. "I tried to get through it, but I only got up to the 1930s and then I started having a bout of acute sleeping sickness every time I picked it up.""Hey, the history of this city is a mental hobby of mine. It's always renewing itself." She smiled. "Think about it. When developers convert industrial space to residential, we end up getting a lot of work."Then she heard the phone crackle alive. It was Van de Vliet. "Alexa, what seems to be the problem?"She told him."Then I think it's important that you come back out here as soon as you can. I can't say anything until I've seen you. This could be something that could affect your procedure.""But what do you think—""I don't diagnose over the phone. I was about to go home, but I'll wait for you."She listened as he clicked off."Shit.""What did he say?" Stone asked."He said I've got to come out.""Do you really want to do that?""I don't know. But what's the point of going to a doctor here? They wouldn't know—""Then at least let me drive you," Stone declared. "And I'll make damned sure they don't pull something funny.""Ally," Jennifer said ,"you look absolutely wiped out. Before you do anything, at least let me fix you a sandwich. I think there's some turkey in the fridge.""I was thinking about that." She glanced at Stone. "You want something?""Sure. I'll have whatever you're having.""Don't be so sure. Jen can tell you I take mayo and mustard both. I know it's weird but that's the way I am.""Then I'll give it a try. I want to get to know you all over again.""Also, I hate to say it, but I think maybe I ought to swing by the apartment and get some things. Just in case."She listened to her own voice and wondered, would whatever happened to Kristen happen to me too?Maybe, she thought, what I really ought to take with me is a gun. Maybe Katherine Starr had the right idea.Jennifer finished the sandwiches and was wrapping them. "Ally, I'll go with you to your placeand pick up Knickers. She can stay with me till you know what's going on.""Thanks, Jen. I was hoping you'd volunteer." She knew she could have dropped a hint and made it happen anyway, but this was nicer.She then went around and had a few last words. It felt like a good‑bye and she didn't want it to. But it did.Ten minutes later, while Stone waited in her double‑parked car, she and Jennifer took the elevator up to her Barrow Street apartment."Where did you find that man?" Jennifer asked as soon as they got on. "He seems nice. Interesting. He's not a client, is he? And, pardon me for noticing, no wedding ring.""He actually found me," Ally declared, punching her floor. "It's a long story, but he was a guy I was deeply in love with for about fifteen minutes back around college. The old flame I told you about, remember? Then we started getting on each other's nerves. We're both going easy on the personal details right now, but I've got a hunch he's got nobody else percolating. Which, incidentally, goes for me too, or hadn't you noticed."They stepped off the elevator and she unlocked the door to her apartment. Knickers exploded with delight."Hi, baby." She reached down and ruffled the sheepdog's ears."I really love her," Jennifer said as she reached down to pet her too.Knickers began a dance of joy, then ran to search for her rubber ball behind the couch, hoping for a game of fetch with Jennifer."By the way, I can't tell you how I appreciate your taking her. She's going to love being at your placeawhile. I'm sure she gets bored crazy being here all the time. I probably should get a puppy or something to keep her company, but then she'd be jealous. And I'm not about to get a stupid cat.""She loves me because she knows I love her," Jennifer said. "I always play with her when you bring her into the office. At least I think she loves me. This may turn out to be the test."Ally headed into the bedroom, opened a drawer, and took out some black sweatshirts. Those and black jeans were her favorite things to wear around the house. She slept in a T‑shirt and panties, so it wasn't hard to put together her evening ensemble. Besides, if something went wrong with the experimental stem cell procedure, it wouldn't matter a damn what she was wearing.She threw the clothes into a blue gym bag and headed for the bathroom to fetch some toiletries. By the time she got back to the living room, Jennifer had a measuring cup and was shoveling Science Diet into a large plastic bag.They delivered Jen and Knickers back to the office. After she gave them both a farewell hug, she came around and slipped into the Toyota's driver's seat, moving Stone across."I'm actually feeling better now, so I'll drive as long as I can. And by the way, I'm famished. How about that turkey sandwich?""Thought you'd never remember."Five minutes later, they were headed up the West Side, with Ally at the wheel. She checked the gas and was relieved to see that she still had two‑thirds of a tank. Stone was leaning back in the seat looking at her."You know, it's easy for me to say, but trying the stem cell procedure on your heart is probably the right thing for you to do. Still, though, it makes me nervous. If there's a medical glitch of some kind then . . . I mean, what the hell is going on with Kristen?""I'm going to confront him about that," she said "I damned well want some answers before I just turn myself over to him."After they crossed the George Washington Bridge, she began feeling slightly better. Maybe, she thought, whatever it is is going to pass. As they headed north up the tree‑shrouded highway, she decided to ask him a question that had been nagging at her mind."Stone, I know you hate to have these talks, but something about you doesn't quite compute for me right now. There's a kind of unnatural intensity about your pursuit of Winston Bartlett and his stem cell work. And the same goes for his reaction to you. Way back when, I never really thought I knew you, and it's still true. I mean, is this all just about a book on stem cell technology? Or is it something more?"The question was followed by a long moment of silence as he looked away, into the forest, and appeared to wrestle with his thoughts."You're very intuitive, Ally," he said at last "Maybe I didn't consciously set out to write about stem cells just because I knew Bartlett's Gerex Corporation was a leader in the field. But writing about stem cells automatically meant that I'd have to get close to him at some point. So was it an unconscious choice? If it was, then I wouldn't be aware of it would I?""But why would you want to get close to Winston Bartlett?""I guess that was your original question, right?""Pretty much.""There are things about my past that I never told you. I could never decide exactly how to go about it. And truthfully, right now doesn't seem exactly the right moment either. You've got enough on your mind""Want to give me a hint?" What could he mean? she wondered. It was clear that Stone Aimes and Winston Bartlett had some kind of holy war going on between them."I'll tell you someday soon. But I want us both sitting down in a safe place when I do. It's going to be hard." He looked away again. "Someday soon I've got to tell my daughter, Amy, too. Maybe telling you would be a practice drill.""So what I'm learning is that I'm not crazy. This is about more than it's about?" She sighed. "Nobody's leveling with me. With Van de Vliet I have to worry whether he's telling me the truth every time he opens his mouth. And now you're holding out. It’s like that joke about feeling like a mushroom. Everybody keeps me in the dark and feeds me bullshit." She was slowing down, pulling into an open space by the roadside. "Stone, I'm feeling a little dizzy. Maybe it's this conversation, but I think it's time you took the wheel for a while.""Hey, don't pass out on me now," he said, snapping into the moment. "I'm not sure I could actually find this place without your help.""Don't worry," she said, bringing the car to a stop. "I'm all right. I'm just a little worried about my reflexes."He got out and walked around, while she hoisted herself over into the other side.The evening commute had begun in earnest, so there was a lot more traffic than there had been that morning. But Stone turned out to be an aggressive driver, right on the edge, as though he were racing the clock. She gave him directions and then closed her eyes, hoping to rest. But all she could think about was Stone's refusal to tell her about something that loomed very large in his life."Tell me if I'm bothering you and I'll shut up," he interjected after a few minutes, "but—not to change the subject—did you actually give anybody permission to stick a needle in you this morning? I mean, are you sure you understood what was going on at the time?"She shifted and opened her eyes, looking straight ahead."Truthfully, I assumed I was just giving a blood sample. That's what his assistant said and I took her at her word. I hate needles and I never actually watch when I give blood. This morning I just sort of went along with what was happening. And nothing seemed particularly ominous till Katherine Starr showed up and started blasting away.""Well," he said, "do your best to get some rest and I'll try to get you there as soon as legally possible."She stared out the window a moment before closing her eyes again. Around them the encroaching greenery of northern New Jersey felt like an ancient forest where magical things could happen. Out here in the forest, was there a magician who had the power literally to save her life?And what about Stone? Setting aside the troubling fact that he was harboring some mysterious connection to Winston Bartlett—and that was hard to set aside—she was feeling a sense of togetherness with him that brought back a lot of positive memories. Which was bizarre, because she knew so little about what kind of man he'd become. If people are worth their salt, they change a lot in their late twenties and early thirties. So what was he really like now? What did he love? What did he hate? What were his priorities? Did he believe in the Golden Rule?Mulling over all this, she slowly drifted away. . . .Dusk was approaching by the time he pulled to a stop at the gated entrance of the Dorian Institute. Along the way he'd begun getting a sense that they were being followed by a dark‑colored Lincoln Town Car, but it could have been his imagination. And he hadn't seen it for the past fifteen minutes, after he pulled onto the leafy lakeside drive leading to the institute."Hey, we're here, Ally. Rise and shine. How're you feeling?"There was no response when he touched her.Chapter 25Wednesday, April 87:20p.m."Jesus, Ally, are you all right?" He leaned over and shook her.Finally she jumped, and then her eyelids fluttered open."Where . . . ?" She looked around."The sign says this is it. The institute.""Oh shit, Stone, I'm feeling really strange," she said after a moment of getting her bearings. "Everything around me seems like it's moving. It's as though the space I'm in has an extra dimension. I don't know . . . maybe it was totally stupid to come back out here. Maybe I should have just gone to my doctor in the city.""Hey, you've got a seriously deficient sense of timing. We're here now. I've been breaking the speed limit for the last half hour.""I know. Shit. I really don't know what to do. I don't trust anybody.""Well, you could start by trusting me. I'm along to try to make sure nothing bad happens." He paused. "So what do we do?"A brass plaque on a redbrick pillar beside the gate bore a two‑inch‑high inscription,the dorian institute, and just below it was an intercom. She stared at it for a moment, then said, "There, give it a buzz. I think there's a video camera around here somewhere. Last time I was here, they knew I'd arrived."He reached out and touched a black button."Yes," came back a quick voice. She recognized it as belonging to the woman she'd spoken to on the phone."It's Alexa Hampton." She leaned over. "We talked—""Yes, I know, Ms. Hampton. He's been waiting for you."A buzzer sounded and the two wrought‑iron gates slid back, welcoming them. As they drove down the tree‑lined road, an elegant three‑story redbrick structure with white Doric columns across the front slowly came into view."From here, it's pretty classy‑looking," Stone declared, sizing it up. "I know his big manufacturing‑and‑research campus is right down the road. But still, it sure feels godforsaken and lost out here in the middle of these pines. It's like the place is hiding from the world.""Where better to do secret medical research," she said. "If you want to keep everything proprietary, then the isolation gives you a big jump on security."She directed him to the side parking lot, where she'd left her car that morning."Stone, here's what we'll tell them. You're next of kin, a cousin on my mother's side.""Works for me," he declared. "I'm beginning to feel part of the family anyway." He pocketed the car keys and helped her out of the Toyota.As they headed up the wide steps, past the white columns, Ally felt a wave of nausea sweep through her. She reached out and took Stone's arm and sank against him."I'm... I'm not feeling at all well. Please let me hold—"No sooner had she said it than the front door opened and two nurses appeared, their hair backlit from the glow of the reception area. She recognized one as Ellen O'Hara."Here, dear, let us help you," she said as she strode toward them. She was dressed in white and her eyes were flooded with concern. Ally looked through the doorway to see a waiting wheelchair."That's fast," Stone said. "Looks like they were ready for you."My God, she thought, did they already know what kind of shape I'd be in? What else do they know? Surely Van de Vliet has heard by now that I'm aware of Kristen.Then she saw him standing behind the nurses."Alexa, we need to get you downstairs as soon as possible." He was coming forward to help her settle into the wheelchair. He appeared to take no notice of Stone Aimes."I'm just feeling a little dizzy."He smiled reassuringly. "There's always a small percentage chance that there may be side effects from the initial inoculation."Huh?"What 'initial inoculation'?" She bolted upright in the wheelchair. "I was just supposed to be giving blood.""I thought Debra explained," he said, appearing confused. "There's always an initial . . . antibiotic dosage, just as a prophylactic." He shook his head in self‑blame. "I should have insisted you stay here, but after that . . . incident this morning I was so disoriented I let you talk me out of it. You may be having a reaction to the antibiotic, but it can't be all that serious. I didn't see anything about side effects in your file. We just have to get you horizontal for a while. Everything's going to be all right. In fact, this might be a positive development. With you here now, we can begin fine‑tuning your procedure immediately."
"Elise, could you please close the door."
"Sure." She was getting up. "Is this the quorum? You don't want anybody else here?"
"We have to decide what to do about Katherine Starr," Ellen began. "In my opinion, the absolute first thing we have to do is make sure the story of what just happened never leaves this building."
"Well, I think Dr. Vee should call the police and have her arrested" Elise said as she quietly shut the door. "The very idea. Barging in here with a loaded gun."
"I don't feel safe in the lobby anymore," May Gooden declared. Her face was lined and she had streaks of premature gray. "We're all exposed out here in the middle of nowhere. I think Charles should have a pistol. What good is it having a 'security guard' if you're still not secure."
"Mary, what do you think?" Ellen asked. She knew Mary would always try to split the difference and reconcile differing opinions.
"I don't know. Maybe it was just the case of one crazy person. It's probably not going to happen again."
Okay, Ellen thought, that's three different votes. Call the cops, beef up security, or put our collective heads in the sand.
She worried about the others, but she was also worried about her own situation. Her husband Harold left her eight years ago for a younger woman, and after reclaiming her maiden name, she'd raised their two young sons on her own. Now the oldest, Eric, was ready to start college and she had no idea how she was going to pay for it if she lost this job.
The Gerex Corporation paid her almost twice what she would be earning as an R.N. at an ordinary hospital. With her current salary, she had a shot at providing the boys with an education. Without it—if Gerex got embroiled in some horrible scandal and was put out of business—she had no hope whatsoever.
Even worse, she might be named as being complicit in some unethical shenanigans, knowingly putting a patient at risk in a human trial. That would certainly drive a stake into the heart of her nursing career.
"Elise, we'd better think long and hard about bringing in the police. They would talk to Katherine and she'd tell them Kristen was missing and we simply have no idea where it would end." She paused. "I'm about to say something I shouldn't, but I guess this is the moment. You all deserve to know an important fact. The NIH has not been told the reason Kristen Starr was terminated from the stem cell program."
"How do you know that?" Elise asked.
"I just checked the reporting records. Call it a hunch. We all know that, for a formal clinical trial, that's a flagrant violation of NIH rules."
"What are you saying?" Mary asked, her voice filling with alarm.
"I'm saying we have no choice but to keep this whole matter of Kristen and her mother under cover. If the Dorian Institute gets caught tampering with the data from a clinical trial, it could be the end of everybody's career. Dr. Van de Vliet's certainly, but most probably ours as well."
"My God," Elise blurted out "Did we have to wait till some crazy person with a gun barged in here before you got around to telling us that clinical‑trial data had been fiddled with?"
"Maybe Dr. Vee still intends to provide a full report to the NIH. Whatever he intends, if this whole matter blows up, the less any of us knows about what may have gone on, the better."
"Well," Elise declared, "I think they all should be confronted. The clinical trials aren't over yet. There'll be a final report so he can still give the NIH whatever data had been left out. We should confront him and demand that he give a full accounting in the final report Otherwise we all could end up being part of some conspiracy."
"Maybe we ought to think this over for a few days before we do anything drastic," Mary said. "We don't know what he intends to do and there's still time. If we start giving Dr. Vee ultimatums, it's just going to upset him even more. He could have been killed taking the gun away from her. He's got enough to worry about just now. Maybe he's going to handle her special case some other way that we don't know about."
"My concern right now," Ellen said, "is the people who work under us. I don't think pulling an ostrich number is going to protect anybody. We've got to get out of denial and face up to how serious this might get. And I'll tell you our number one priority right now. If Katherine Starr walks out of here before the Kristen problem is cleared up and gets the ear of someone in the media, then everybody who works here . . . Let's just say we mustn't allow that to happen. That's why we're having this meeting."
"Are you suggesting we should keep her . . . sedated?" Mary asked. "All her medications have to be approved by—"
"No sedative should be listed on her chart and I'm not telling you what to do, but use your imagination."
There was a moment of silence as the implications of the unspoken order settled in.
"And starting immediately, we need to hold a meeting of the staff on each floor and impress on them that the story of Katherine Starr must never leave this building. Ever. Remind everybody that that would be a serious violation of a staffer's original security agreement and would subject them to legal action the likes of which they can't even begin to imagine. And if somebody comes around asking questions about Kristen Starr, nobody here knows anything. We can say she was here because that's part of the record and she is no longer here. End of statement. Beyond that, nobody knows zip."
This problem is far from over, Ellen told herself. God only knows how it's going to end.
Chapter 23
Wednesday, April 8
3:22p.m.
As Stone Aimes stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor, his mind was running through his options. This phone call had to be about Winston Bartlett. He was going to step up the pressure. First there was the hellfire meeting in Jane's office, and now he'd seen a kidnapping. Maybe this was about that. Was Jane going to pass along a threat of legal action if that crime got reported?
The managing editor, Jay, had left a message with the third‑floor receptionist, Rhonda, to be forwarded to Stone. Gist: he was urgently required in the office of their corporate counsel.
What does this tell me? he wondered. That they're going to try to do something to me that could have legal ramifications?
No, more likely it means that I'm going to be given an ultimatum, maybe an injunction. And Jane gets to deliver it with all the legal trimmings.
Still, he was determined to go on. "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you jive." Right? Well, not necessarily. But at the least, the truth could make a hell of a book. And with that came financial freedom, at least for a while. . . .
The hallway felt desolate and ominous as he walked through the doorway that opened onto the cubicles. Jane Tully was down on the third floor, but he wanted to stop by his desk first and see if there’d been any further communications from Winston Bartlett. Possibly there still could be a deal in the making
The room itself was silent, no one meeting his eye. Maybe, he thought, it's the middle of the afternoon and everybody's dozing off from a late lunch. But when he got to his cubicle, he realized why he had suddenly become invisible. The top of his desk was bare, and there were three large cardboard boxes sitting on the gray carpet next to it.
"I think I get the picture," he said to the empty space.
It looked like Winston Bartlett had just provided him with a career decision. For a moment he felt his life passing before his eyes, but then all he could think about was the future. This was not just the end of a wage‑slave era; it was the beginning of the next phase of his life.
He saw everyone still avoiding his eyes as he turned around and walked back to the elevator. How much did Jane know about this? She had to know everything, which was why Jay sent him to see her. She would have no qualms about giving someone the ax, including a former lover.
When he stepped off the elevator on the third floor, Rhonda looked at him as though he were a corpse.
"She's—"
"I know she's here. Don't bother buzzing her."
He strode purposefully down the hallway, realizing it was probably the last time he'd ever walk it, and pushed open Jane's door. She was on the phone and looked up startled putting her hand over the mouthpiece.
"What—"
"Just came to say farewell. Jay told me to come see you. I
guess he was sure you'd want to be part of this important life moment."
"Stone, for God's sake"—she turned back to the phone—"let me . . . I'll call you tomorrow." She slammed down the receiver. "You have to know I had nothing to do with this. Bartlett got to the Family. I think it was one of those noblesse oblige kind of things. Old Money meets New Money and needs to placate it. The Sentinel is only marginally a profit‑making enterprise and the last thing they need is a lot of shit from their landlord. He wanted you gone. And since your job was a small price for them to pay to ensure domestic tranquility, do the math. Sorry, but that's how it had to be. For God's sake, Stone, why did you drive him to this?"
The ironic thing was, she was managing to look vaguely contrite—tugging at a lock of short hair. He wasn't sure how she had the brass. Apologies from the executioner are traditionally a tough sell.
"Let me tell you something, Jane. I already know more about Winston Bartlett than he wants. He had somebody kidnapped today before my very eyes. I even got slugged trying to stop it. So you can tell his lawyers to tell him he'd better back off. The people who did it were recognized and they work for him. If he wants to play tough, I could have a heartfelt exchange with somebody I know very well at the Sixth Precinct, and also with the tabloids, where I know a shitload of hungry columnists. Winston Bartlett could get real famous, real fast"
"Stone, you brought this on yourself. I tried to warn you, but you're hell‑bent on your own destruction. You're your own worst enemy." She picked up her Blackberry and switched it off and sighed. "You never listened to me before and I don't expect you to do it now, but take some free advice anyway: try not to piss off important people. It is frequently a negative career move."
"Jane, you know John Kennedy once said, 'Sometimes party loyalty asks too much,' and I think that moment for me, is
now. From here on, I'm going to be doing what I need to do, not what Bartlett or Jay or whoever tells me to do. I guess that includes you too. There comes a time when I have to do what's in my heart."
She was finally focusing, looking at him strangely. "Stone, what did you just say? Bartlett had somebody kidnapped? Today? What on earth are you talking about?"
"Did I secure your vagrant attention? Good. Actually, it was less than an hour ago. There's no point in going into details, but I'm pretty sure she was the patient terminated from the clinical trials at the Dorian Institute that I had you ask Bartlett's lawyers about. I think there's the possibility that something really weird began happening to her out there in New Jersey. But I didn't get a chance to talk to her because they grabbed her and took off."
"Well, what do you think happened to her out there?"
"The only thing I've heard and that's secondhand is that she lost some part of her memory. She's even having trouble remembering her name."
"How do you know all this?" she asked staring at him. "Were you—?"
"I . . . know somebody who talked with her this morning. Just a few short exchanges on the phone. That's all I can tell you. They're doing something very powerful there at the institute, but in her case it seems to have gone horribly wrong. That's my best guess. So they dropped her from the clinical trials and gave her a new identity and stashed her someplace incommunicado. But she got away for a couple of hours, somehow, and managed to go back to her old apartment. In her case, it's a Village town house. But Bartlett nabbed her back."
"If you really believe all that, Stone, shouldn't you be worried for your own safety?" It was clear she was finally taking him seriously.
"Bartlett got me fired. That's probably enough for now. I don't know enough to be a threat to him. Yet."
"But what if you find out . . . whatever it is you're looking for? Then—"
"Then I'll know if medical miracles sometimes come with a strange price."
She was looking at him, pity entering her dark eyes. "What are you going to do for money? The child support you send to Amy?" She hesitated. "I'm so sorry about this, Stone. If you need a little help for the short term, I could—"
"Don't go there. I can take cash out on a couple of credit cards. And when I turn in the manuscript for the book, I'll get the other two‑thirds of the advance. After that, I'm hoping I might get an actual career."
"Oh, Stone, I'm really sorry about this," she said with feeling. "Truly I am. I. . . I guess I still enjoy seeing you. Having you around. You're a mensch, you know that? Whatever your other failings, and God knows they're plenty, you were always kind. You're even kind to people who don't necessarily wish you well."
"Well, tell that to Amy if you ever get the chance. Sometimes she thinks her dad is the meanest guy alive. Particularly when I don't honor her every whim."
"You're a good father too." She sighed.
For Stone, this was always the moment that he wanted her back—when she let her guard down.
"Dammit, Stone, why couldn't we make a go of it?"
"We stopped having fun, Jane. That's all that happened. I started to bore you. Back then I didn't provide enough excitement, enough Sturm und Drang in your life."
"You weren't dull, Stone, but sometimes you could be maddeningly smug."
"That may be about to change. Now that I'm an unemployed freelancer. And I just ran into a blast from the past. Who knows what my life is about to be like?" He turned to leave. "By the way, give my best to Jay. Hopefully, he'll be the last managing editor I'll ever have to suck up to."
“Take care, Stone." She was getting up. "You can fight
this, you know. They had me write up some kind of bullshit breach‑of‑contract brief, in case you wouldn't go quietly. But it's full of holes. I know, since I deliberately wrote it that way."
"Hey, thanks anyway. It's not worth it. I'm not going to fight to keep a job I never liked all that much in the first place. Every time I wanted to do some serious journalism—like that piece about using the Internet to store everybody's medical records—Jay always found a reason not to run it. I've only got so much dignity to lose."
He turned and strode out of the office, deciding to forego any more farewells. Besides, he had better things to do. Get somebody from the mailroom to carry the boxes—the shards of his erstwhile, so‑called career—to the lobby, where he could get a cab. Take the files home, stash them, and then get going.
Chapter 24
Wednesday, April 8
4:40p.m.
"Hi," he said, walking through the door of Ally's downtown studio, CitiSpace. Jennifer had the desk at the front and she served as a makeshift receptionist. She looked up as he continued, "I don't have an appointment, but I'd love to see Ally Hampton. Any chance?"
"And you're . . . ?"
Just as he started to tell her, Ally emerged from her office/cubicle in the back and spotted him.
"Stone! What—"
"Bet you didn't think you'd see me again quite so soon."
She felt her pulse jump. No, she hadn't. She'd told him she was going down to the office, but she'd certainly had no idea (or hope) he'd just show up a couple of hours later.
Since she got back to the office she'd been in a struggle with her conscience over what to do about Kristen. Was there any good to be served by bringing in the police? At the time it had seemed pointless and it still felt that way. The whole matter was awfully anecdotal.
Worse, she didn't really feel she should talk it over with
Jennifer, which she would have loved to do. They supported each other in a lot of things, but this crazy story would just freak her out. Why do that?
The more troubling thing was, she’d started feeling tired and slightly dizzy. Now she was just hoping to stay focused long enough to last out the day. What, she wondered was happening to her? It wasn't like a chest‑tightening spell of angina—which, thankfully, she hadn't had for a couple of days now. No, this just felt like something was sapping her energy. She couldn't help the suspicion that this queasy condition was somehow related to her encounter with Dr. Van de Vliet's testy blond colleague Debra. While she was supposedly taking that blood sample, was she also doing something else?
"Welcome to my home away from home. You're right, I didn't expect—"
"CitiSpace," he interjected seeming to try out the word as he looked around She noticed that Jennifer and the others automatically assumed he was a new client of hers and were trying to look preoccupied. Jen, however, was giving him a furtive appraisal, running the numbers. He was a decent looker, actually kind of cute, and he seemed pleasant and outgoing. Not a bad start. That was what she would say the moment he was out of earshot.
"You like the name?"
"Not bad. Sort of a takeoff on Citibank?"
"My dad came up with it back before they copyrighted that name. Maybe they stole the idea from us." She was feeling cheered by the sight of him. Yes, it was good to have him back for a while, maybe longer. "But come on, let me introduce you around"
Which she did. Jennifer gave her a telepathic glance that said This guy looks like he might be worth the effort. What's the deal?
Then they went to Ally's office, a high‑walled cubicle in the back with a computer and a drafting table. She had a CAD program running.
"Sorry to just invite myself down like this," he said, "but I got off work early. Matter of fact, I just became a freelancer. My office now consists of three cardboard boxes in my walk‑up apartment."
"What do you mean? That phone page? Did—"
"Winston Bartlett owns the building where the Sentinel's offices are. Seems he convinced the management that it would be in their interest if I were no longer employed there. I gather he thinks I know more than I actually do about what's going on out at the Dorian Institute, and I guess he thought getting me fired would slow me down. What it has done, however, is to give me even more incentive to surpass his most paranoid assumptions. Now I'm going to take him on full‑time. I want to know everything."
"Oh, Stone, I'm so sorry." She wasn't buying his bravado. He didn't look like a guy who could last very long without a paycheck.
"I have to say he gave me fair warning. That meeting where he yelled at me. This little turn of the screw is not a total shock."
"But that whole thing with Kristen . . . I'll bet that's what sent him over the edge. I shouldn't have gotten you involved in that."
"This had nothing to do with you, believe me." He shrugged "Besides, it gives me even more motivation to finish the book fast. And I'm also looking forward to spending some of my newfound quality time with you again, if you'll let me. In your favor, you've actually been inside the Dorian Institute, which is more than I can say."
She wasn't a big believer in the magic of a second time around—that would have to await further evidence—but having Stone back in her life was definitely helping on the psychological‑support front.
"I'm thinking," he went on, "that maybe we should go back to Kristen's apartment and turn the place inside out. Do it right. We both let ourselves get distracted by the little matter of our other lives."
"Stone, I'm not sure"—she lowered her voice and sat down at her desk—"but I may be having a reaction to something one of Van de Vliet's research assistants did to me out at the institute this morning. I don't know. I'm just feeling sort of weak and... funny. I'm thinking maybe I should call out there and talk to him." She took a deep breath and seemed to be mounting her courage. "Or if he needs to see me, could you possibly drive for me? I'm not sure I'm up to it"
"Hey, I'd love a chance to get inside that place." Then his eyes grew uncertain. "But are you sure you want to go back, after what seems to have happened to Kristen? You might consider waiting till we find her and—"
"Ally, are you all right?" Jennifer was walking in, carrying a manila folder. "You look kind of queasy. Can I make you some tea or something?"
"Thanks but not now," she said. "I'm feeling weird, but maybe I should call out to the institute and see what Van de Vliet says."
"Just don't agree to do anything until we talk," Stone said.
"Don't worry," she said reaching for the phone. The number for the Dorian Institute was now newly entered on her Palm Pilot and she called it. When the receptionist answered she gave her name and asked for Dr. Van de Vliet. "I was there this morning and gave a blood sample to Dr. Debra Connolly. I don't know if there's any connection, but I'm really feeling strange right now."
"What do you mean by 'strange'?" the woman asked. "Can you describe how you feel exactly? He's in the lab downstairs."
"That's just it I'm not sure I need to actually see him. I'd just like to talk to him."
"He doesn't like to be disturbed. Unless it's something very important."
"It's important enough for me to try to call him," she declared feeling herself abruptly seething. "I'm weak and dizzy. And my stomach is not in such great shape either."
"What did you have for lunch?"
My God, she realized she hadn't actually had any. After the disaster with Kristen, she'd been in such turmoil that she hadn't even thought about food.
On the other hand, she knew what food deprivation felt like. This was something else.
"I didn't have all that much lunch, but that's not the problem. Now will you please put me through?"
"Let me see what I can do," she said. "I'll call down and ask him. He might be able to see you."
Ally listened as the line went blank.
That was when she remembered she had some smoked turkey in the office fridge. Maybe a quick sandwich was called for.
While she waited, Stone was looking around the offices, taking everything in. Carrying the phone, she walked out and followed him. What, she wondered, was the place telling him about her? The meager furniture was low‑slung and utilitarian, with lots of beige and dark brown. And there were several huge storage files for blueprints and designs. There also was a comfortable easy chair and lamp near a bookcase in the corner. On the table next to the chair were two British mysteries and a thick, recently written history of New York City.
He walked over and picked it up. It was 760 pages long.
“This your idea of reading for relaxation?" he asked, waving it at her. "I tried to get through it, but I only got up to the 1930s and then I started having a bout of acute sleeping sickness every time I picked it up."
"Hey, the history of this city is a mental hobby of mine. It's always renewing itself." She smiled. "Think about it. When developers convert industrial space to residential, we end up getting a lot of work."
Then she heard the phone crackle alive. It was Van de Vliet. "Alexa, what seems to be the problem?"
She told him.
"Then I think it's important that you come back out here as soon as you can. I can't say anything until I've seen you. This could be something that could affect your procedure."
"But what do you think—"
"I don't diagnose over the phone. I was about to go home, but I'll wait for you."
She listened as he clicked off.
"Shit."
"What did he say?" Stone asked.
"He said I've got to come out."
"Do you really want to do that?"
"I don't know. But what's the point of going to a doctor here? They wouldn't know—"
"Then at least let me drive you," Stone declared. "And I'll make damned sure they don't pull something funny."
"Ally," Jennifer said ,"you look absolutely wiped out. Before you do anything, at least let me fix you a sandwich. I think there's some turkey in the fridge."
"I was thinking about that." She glanced at Stone. "You want something?"
"Sure. I'll have whatever you're having."
"Don't be so sure. Jen can tell you I take mayo and mustard both. I know it's weird but that's the way I am."
"Then I'll give it a try. I want to get to know you all over again."
"Also, I hate to say it, but I think maybe I ought to swing by the apartment and get some things. Just in case."
She listened to her own voice and wondered, would whatever happened to Kristen happen to me too?
Maybe, she thought, what I really ought to take with me is a gun. Maybe Katherine Starr had the right idea.
Jennifer finished the sandwiches and was wrapping them. "Ally, I'll go with you to your placeand pick up Knickers. She can stay with me till you know what's going on."
"Thanks, Jen. I was hoping you'd volunteer." She knew she could have dropped a hint and made it happen anyway, but this was nicer.
She then went around and had a few last words. It felt like a good‑bye and she didn't want it to. But it did.
Ten minutes later, while Stone waited in her double‑parked car, she and Jennifer took the elevator up to her Barrow Street apartment.
"Where did you find that man?" Jennifer asked as soon as they got on. "He seems nice. Interesting. He's not a client, is he? And, pardon me for noticing, no wedding ring."
"He actually found me," Ally declared, punching her floor. "It's a long story, but he was a guy I was deeply in love with for about fifteen minutes back around college. The old flame I told you about, remember? Then we started getting on each other's nerves. We're both going easy on the personal details right now, but I've got a hunch he's got nobody else percolating. Which, incidentally, goes for me too, or hadn't you noticed."
They stepped off the elevator and she unlocked the door to her apartment. Knickers exploded with delight.
"Hi, baby." She reached down and ruffled the sheepdog's ears.
"I really love her," Jennifer said as she reached down to pet her too.
Knickers began a dance of joy, then ran to search for her rubber ball behind the couch, hoping for a game of fetch with Jennifer.
"By the way, I can't tell you how I appreciate your taking her. She's going to love being at your placeawhile. I'm sure she gets bored crazy being here all the time. I probably should get a puppy or something to keep her company, but then she'd be jealous. And I'm not about to get a stupid cat."
"She loves me because she knows I love her," Jennifer said. "I always play with her when you bring her into the office. At least I think she loves me. This may turn out to be the test."
Ally headed into the bedroom, opened a drawer, and took out some black sweatshirts. Those and black jeans were her favorite things to wear around the house. She slept in a T‑shirt and panties, so it wasn't hard to put together her evening ensemble. Besides, if something went wrong with the experimental stem cell procedure, it wouldn't matter a damn what she was wearing.
She threw the clothes into a blue gym bag and headed for the bathroom to fetch some toiletries. By the time she got back to the living room, Jennifer had a measuring cup and was shoveling Science Diet into a large plastic bag.
They delivered Jen and Knickers back to the office. After she gave them both a farewell hug, she came around and slipped into the Toyota's driver's seat, moving Stone across.
"I'm actually feeling better now, so I'll drive as long as I can. And by the way, I'm famished. How about that turkey sandwich?"
"Thought you'd never remember."
Five minutes later, they were headed up the West Side, with Ally at the wheel. She checked the gas and was relieved to see that she still had two‑thirds of a tank. Stone was leaning back in the seat looking at her.
"You know, it's easy for me to say, but trying the stem cell procedure on your heart is probably the right thing for you to do. Still, though, it makes me nervous. If there's a medical glitch of some kind then . . . I mean, what the hell is going on with Kristen?"
"I'm going to confront him about that," she said "I damned well want some answers before I just turn myself over to him."
After they crossed the George Washington Bridge, she began feeling slightly better. Maybe, she thought, whatever it is is going to pass. As they headed north up the tree‑shrouded highway, she decided to ask him a question that had been nagging at her mind.
"Stone, I know you hate to have these talks, but something about you doesn't quite compute for me right now. There's a kind of unnatural intensity about your pursuit of Winston Bartlett and his stem cell work. And the same goes for his reaction to you. Way back when, I never really thought I knew you, and it's still true. I mean, is this all just about a book on stem cell technology? Or is it something more?"
The question was followed by a long moment of silence as he looked away, into the forest, and appeared to wrestle with his thoughts.
"You're very intuitive, Ally," he said at last "Maybe I didn't consciously set out to write about stem cells just because I knew Bartlett's Gerex Corporation was a leader in the field. But writing about stem cells automatically meant that I'd have to get close to him at some point. So was it an unconscious choice? If it was, then I wouldn't be aware of it would I?"
"But why would you want to get close to Winston Bartlett?"
"I guess that was your original question, right?"
"Pretty much."
"There are things about my past that I never told you. I could never decide exactly how to go about it. And truthfully, right now doesn't seem exactly the right moment either. You've got enough on your mind"
"Want to give me a hint?" What could he mean? she wondered. It was clear that Stone Aimes and Winston Bartlett had some kind of holy war going on between them.
"I'll tell you someday soon. But I want us both sitting down in a safe place when I do. It's going to be hard." He looked away again. "Someday soon I've got to tell my daughter, Amy, too. Maybe telling you would be a practice drill."
"So what I'm learning is that I'm not crazy. This is about more than it's about?" She sighed. "Nobody's leveling with me. With Van de Vliet I have to worry whether he's telling me the truth every time he opens his mouth. And now you're holding out. It’s like that joke about feeling like a mushroom. Everybody keeps me in the dark and feeds me bullshit." She was slowing down, pulling into an open space by the roadside. "Stone, I'm feeling a little dizzy. Maybe it's this conversation, but I think it's time you took the wheel for a while."
"Hey, don't pass out on me now," he said, snapping into the moment. "I'm not sure I could actually find this place without your help."
"Don't worry," she said, bringing the car to a stop. "I'm all right. I'm just a little worried about my reflexes."
He got out and walked around, while she hoisted herself over into the other side.
The evening commute had begun in earnest, so there was a lot more traffic than there had been that morning. But Stone turned out to be an aggressive driver, right on the edge, as though he were racing the clock. She gave him directions and then closed her eyes, hoping to rest. But all she could think about was Stone's refusal to tell her about something that loomed very large in his life.
"Tell me if I'm bothering you and I'll shut up," he interjected after a few minutes, "but—not to change the subject—did you actually give anybody permission to stick a needle in you this morning? I mean, are you sure you understood what was going on at the time?"
She shifted and opened her eyes, looking straight ahead.
"Truthfully, I assumed I was just giving a blood sample. That's what his assistant said and I took her at her word. I hate needles and I never actually watch when I give blood. This morning I just sort of went along with what was happening. And nothing seemed particularly ominous till Katherine Starr showed up and started blasting away."
"Well," he said, "do your best to get some rest and I'll try to get you there as soon as legally possible."
She stared out the window a moment before closing her eyes again. Around them the encroaching greenery of northern New Jersey felt like an ancient forest where magical things could happen. Out here in the forest, was there a magician who had the power literally to save her life?
And what about Stone? Setting aside the troubling fact that he was harboring some mysterious connection to Winston Bartlett—and that was hard to set aside—she was feeling a sense of togetherness with him that brought back a lot of positive memories. Which was bizarre, because she knew so little about what kind of man he'd become. If people are worth their salt, they change a lot in their late twenties and early thirties. So what was he really like now? What did he love? What did he hate? What were his priorities? Did he believe in the Golden Rule?
Mulling over all this, she slowly drifted away. . . .
Dusk was approaching by the time he pulled to a stop at the gated entrance of the Dorian Institute. Along the way he'd begun getting a sense that they were being followed by a dark‑colored Lincoln Town Car, but it could have been his imagination. And he hadn't seen it for the past fifteen minutes, after he pulled onto the leafy lakeside drive leading to the institute.
"Hey, we're here, Ally. Rise and shine. How're you feeling?"
There was no response when he touched her.
Chapter 25
Wednesday, April 8
7:20p.m.
"Jesus, Ally, are you all right?" He leaned over and shook her.
Finally she jumped, and then her eyelids fluttered open.
"Where . . . ?" She looked around.
"The sign says this is it. The institute."
"Oh shit, Stone, I'm feeling really strange," she said after a moment of getting her bearings. "Everything around me seems like it's moving. It's as though the space I'm in has an extra dimension. I don't know . . . maybe it was totally stupid to come back out here. Maybe I should have just gone to my doctor in the city."
"Hey, you've got a seriously deficient sense of timing. We're here now. I've been breaking the speed limit for the last half hour."
"I know. Shit. I really don't know what to do. I don't trust anybody."
"Well, you could start by trusting me. I'm along to try to make sure nothing bad happens." He paused. "So what do we do?"
A brass plaque on a redbrick pillar beside the gate bore a two‑inch‑high inscription,the dorian institute, and just below it was an intercom. She stared at it for a moment, then said, "There, give it a buzz. I think there's a video camera around here somewhere. Last time I was here, they knew I'd arrived."
He reached out and touched a black button.
"Yes," came back a quick voice. She recognized it as belonging to the woman she'd spoken to on the phone.
"It's Alexa Hampton." She leaned over. "We talked—"
"Yes, I know, Ms. Hampton. He's been waiting for you."
A buzzer sounded and the two wrought‑iron gates slid back, welcoming them. As they drove down the tree‑lined road, an elegant three‑story redbrick structure with white Doric columns across the front slowly came into view.
"From here, it's pretty classy‑looking," Stone declared, sizing it up. "I know his big manufacturing‑and‑research campus is right down the road. But still, it sure feels godforsaken and lost out here in the middle of these pines. It's like the place is hiding from the world."
"Where better to do secret medical research," she said. "If you want to keep everything proprietary, then the isolation gives you a big jump on security."
She directed him to the side parking lot, where she'd left her car that morning.
"Stone, here's what we'll tell them. You're next of kin, a cousin on my mother's side."
"Works for me," he declared. "I'm beginning to feel part of the family anyway." He pocketed the car keys and helped her out of the Toyota.
As they headed up the wide steps, past the white columns, Ally felt a wave of nausea sweep through her. She reached out and took Stone's arm and sank against him.
"I'm... I'm not feeling at all well. Please let me hold—"
No sooner had she said it than the front door opened and two nurses appeared, their hair backlit from the glow of the reception area. She recognized one as Ellen O'Hara.
"Here, dear, let us help you," she said as she strode toward them. She was dressed in white and her eyes were flooded with concern. Ally looked through the doorway to see a waiting wheelchair.
"That's fast," Stone said. "Looks like they were ready for you."
My God, she thought, did they already know what kind of shape I'd be in? What else do they know? Surely Van de Vliet has heard by now that I'm aware of Kristen.
Then she saw him standing behind the nurses.
"Alexa, we need to get you downstairs as soon as possible." He was coming forward to help her settle into the wheelchair. He appeared to take no notice of Stone Aimes.
"I'm just feeling a little dizzy."
He smiled reassuringly. "There's always a small percentage chance that there may be side effects from the initial inoculation."
Huh?
"What 'initial inoculation'?" She bolted upright in the wheelchair. "I was just supposed to be giving blood."
"I thought Debra explained," he said, appearing confused. "There's always an initial . . . antibiotic dosage, just as a prophylactic." He shook his head in self‑blame. "I should have insisted you stay here, but after that . . . incident this morning I was so disoriented I let you talk me out of it. You may be having a reaction to the antibiotic, but it can't be all that serious. I didn't see anything about side effects in your file. We just have to get you horizontal for a while. Everything's going to be all right. In fact, this might be a positive development. With you here now, we can begin fine‑tuning your procedure immediately."