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The Stable Affair

Page 19

by Jessica Andersen

“Huh?”

  Sarah laughed. “Sorry. Some diseases happen because a certain gene functions incorrectly. The goal of gene therapy is to replace that bad gene with a good one, either by inserting it directly into a person’s DNA to replace the bad bit or by adding a new piece of DNA that will make up for the bad gene.”

  “You can do that?” Dante was incredulous.

  “No. That’s the problem. It sounds great in principle, but the technology isn’t quite there yet. That’s why the project was such a long shot and so hard to fund. Jay was making pieces of DNA that he believed would counteract a disease once we could figure out how to get the construct into the right cells and turn it on at the right time. It would’ve been great.”

  “What happened to the project after he died?”

  “Nothing much as far as I know—I was pretty out of it for a long time after the accident but I would assume they shut down his experiments. I don’t think they had been having many great successes and I know for a fact Gordon hasn’t published anything recently.”

  Dante thought now was as good a time as any to ask. “Sarah? How exactly did your fiancé die? That first day I met you, you said it was your fault he died. What was that about?”

  “It was my fault he was driving. He never came to horse shows, but for some reason he wanted to come to Washington with me. He offered to drive. I knew he shouldn’t, but I was just so tired… I just wanted to sleep a few hours. If I’d been driving…” She faltered to a halt.

  “Yes?”

  She shook her head. “If I’d been driving, we wouldn’t have driven off the road. Never mind. Where were we? Oh yeah, Jay’s super secret project. Hmm. I don’t think they did anything with it after he died. Before I left I thought I saw some activity in his part of the lab, but it might have just been because Matt’s technicians were pretty crowded at the main benches.”

  They were nearing Boston now, passing the first signs of the endless Big Dig project in the form of open wounds clawed into the earth at the base of the harbor.

  Dante was starting to feel that quivery roiling in his stomach that he got when a series of still photos he had taken was far more powerful viewed together than when seen individually. “Sarah? I’m almost afraid to ask this, but what disease was Jay working on?”

  Her hands clenched spasmodically on the steering wheel and she sent Dante’s jeep skittering into the next lane before regaining control. Comprehension dawned clearly across her face and she gave a short, disbelieving laugh before she spoke.

  “He was trying to find a cure for Huntington’s. They killed him, didn’t they? They killed him and they killed Susan.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Apparently Fontaine didn’t usually go with her to the horse shows but he suddenly decided he had to drive with her to the big Washington hoopla at the end of the year. Sarah says she had the feeling that something was definitely bothering him—he was more absentminded than usual and kept looking over his shoulder at the rest stops as if he expected to see somebody he knew.” Dante spoke quickly into the telephone and kept his voice low. Sarah was in the bathroom of the quaint little suite they’d taken for the night and he didn’t want to upset her further.

  “Had he told her what was wrong? Given her any hints?” Daniel’s voice was clear, coming as it did from a room down the hall. As they had planned, Sarah knew nothing of Daniel’s presence. The time had come for some action and the men didn’t want her in danger.

  Dante shook his head even as he tried to hear whether Sarah was crying in the bathroom. “No. He just said he wanted to be with her that weekend, which I guess was pretty unusual in itself—he spent most of his time in the lab working on this project of his.”

  “Sounds like a real romantic guy. Did Sarah see what happened when they crashed?”

  “Not really. I guess he had offered to drive a bit so she could sleep and be ready to ride when they got there. She wasn’t sure he knew how to drive a trailer, but he did okay when they started off from the last stop, so she dozed off. The next thing she knew, Fontaine was yelling his head off and the rig was jackknifing across the road. It was on one of those scenic drive type roads with rock on one side and nothing on the other. Apparently the truck got hung up on a tree, Fontaine went through the windshield—I guess he was a brilliant scientist but often forgot little things like seatbelts—and the trailer went through the guardrail and ended up at the bottom of a ravine.”

  “Jesus. That sounds pretty awful. Both Fontaine and the horse died?”

  Dante snorted. “Actually, believe it or not the horse made it. Sarah figured out that Jay was beyond help, slid down into the ditch, and stabilized her horse long enough for rescue crews to cut it free, airlift it out of the ditch, and pack it into an equine ambulance.”

  “Gutsy lady you’ve got yourself there.”

  Dante nodded, his eyes straying once again to the closed bathroom door. “She sure is. She’s spent the last two years beating herself up for letting Fontaine drive the trailer on that road and for leaving him alone while she helped her horse. I think she’s having a bit of trouble coming to grips with the fact somebody might have wanted him dead.”

  “When are you going to tell her?”

  Dante knew that Daniel wasn’t talking about the trailer accident. “I don’t know, man. I was going to take her out to dinner here and tell her in neutral territory. I figured we’d have one room and one car, so unless she totally freaked out and took a cab back to the farm, we’d have a chance to talk about it. But she’s pretty upset right now. I’m not sure now is really the best time.”

  “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” Daniel’s voice sounded slightly amused.

  “Terrified. You may think this is funny, Daniel, but this is it for me. She’s the one. I want her in my life permanently. I want her there when I wake up and when I go to sleep. I want her to help me raise Ellie and I want the children we can make together. Susan was right—it’s time for me to settle down, and Sarah’s the woman I want to do it with.”

  There were noises from the bathroom that suggested she was coming out soon. “I gotta go, man. I can’t tell her tonight, she’s had too much in one day already. I’m just going to take her out to a nice dinner, or maybe order in if she can’t face going out. I’ll knock on your door when she’s asleep and we’ll hit the lab.”

  Dante replaced the receiver and took a deep breath. The bathroom door opened to reveal a vision.

  She was wearing some gossamer excuse for a midnight blue dress that sparkled as it floated down to end at mid-thigh. Her legs seemed to go on for every inch of her five foot two and were caressed by shimmery nylons. Her dainty feet were encased in silver straps of nothingness that balanced her on three-and-a-half-inch heels and ruthlessly sculpted her riding-muscled calves.

  Some magical creation of underwear gave her endless cleavage above the strapless neckline, and her red-gold hair was swept up to leave her swanlike neck bare, the effect softened with a few floating tendrils. A seafoam green scarf draped around her made a nod to warmth while covering her scarred shoulder.

  As always, her face was bare of makeup, but against the splendor of the dress the effect was brutally erotic. She wore her characteristic diamond studs and simple gold chain, and if her eyes were overbright and her smile a bit strained, Dante could only appreciate the strength it took for her to carry on in the face of danger and chaos.

  “I guess we’re going out then?” He rose and she admired the way he wore the navy suit. She was touched that he had lugged it in its garment bag just as she had carefully packed her dress for the horse show, in the hope that they’d find time for the promised outing.

  “You’ve been promising to take me on an actual date since the day after we met, buster. Don’t think that just because I’m being chased by a bunch of homicidal geneticists that you’re off the hook.”

  Dante was proud of her. “Well then, shall we go before something trivial like an earthquake or UFO sighting cau
ses us to postpone our dinner yet again?”

  She walked carefully to him and placed her narrow hand in his. “Please walk slowly. If I break my ankle trying to walk in this excuse for a pair of shoes, Tilda will kill both of us.” She grinned and he suddenly felt as if everything was going to work out for them in the end.

  That was probably overly optimistic, but what the heck?

  When they reached the street, Dante hailed a cab and directed the driver to take them to a small place in the North End he had enjoyed when in town last. “I hope Italian’s okay?”

  Sarah nodded, her expression bland.

  He helped her out of the cab on Hanover Street

  in the heart of the Italian district and held a nondescript door for her. They entered a small, dimly lit café redolent with the smell of garlic and oregano.

  A stout woman with lush, dark hair and a spotless apron bustled up to them. “That boy! His one job is to greet customers at the door, but is he here? No! He is down the street talking to that Firenza girl again! Welcome!” She beamed at Dante. “You have been here before I think. You want a table for you and your lady?” She turned her attention to Dante’s companion and let out a whoop.

  “Sarah!”

  “Hello Mama D’Amato!” Heedless of her dress and careful hair, Sarah flung her arms around the woman’s thick waist and hugged Mama tight.

  “Sarah-bella! It’s been so long. Are you back?” She pushed the girl away to look at her. “You look better, no? You’ve finally put some weight on. You are happier too I think—I see it in your eyes. That is good!”

  Guessing the cause of this happiness, Mama turned speculative eyes on Dante. “And who is this? Much better looking than the dead one,” she proclaimed and Dante blinked. He decided he liked the big woman.

  Sarah just smiled. Jay had only been to the restaurant with her a few times and Mama had been unimpressed. “Now Mama, that’s not nice. Jay was a brilliant man.”

  Mama threw up her hands. “Oh, I know. Jay was smart, Jay was dedicated, he was going to save the world!” She turned to a fascinated Dante. “Since when does genius warm a girl’s feet in bed at night?” She looked at him suspiciously for a moment. “You’re not smart, are you?”

  Dante laughed out loud. “Not particularly, but I make a great foot warmer.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” Mama hooted. She turned to Sarah, who was blushing to the roots of her hair. “You will sit at the bar and talk with Gino like always?”

  “Not tonight I think Mama. We’ll take a table. This is our first date, and I don’t think Dante here needs Gino’s help.”

  They sat at a small round table, one of only six in the establishment. A lone candle flickered to send demonic shadows skittering over Dante’s rugged face.

  “I take it you’re a regular here.”

  “I used to be,” she corrected. “I had a condo here, but I closed it up when I moved back to the farm. I’m not sure if I want to live here again, but for now I like knowing that the option’s there.”

  By tacit consent they kept the conversation light as they ate and Dante enjoyed watching Sarah relax by degrees as the dishes Mama selected for them arrived one after the other.

  When she excused herself to use the ladies’ room, Mama planted herself in the vacant chair and Dante prepared himself to be quizzed on his intentions.

  “You can tell her, you know.”

  He hadn’t been expecting that. “What?”

  Mama shrugged. “Whatever it is that’s bothering you. I watch people, I can tell what they’re thinking some times. I watch you and Sarah, for instance. I know her well, so I can see that she’s upset and nervous, but not because of you. There’s something else that’s hurting her, but she’s pushing it away right now so you two can have a nice evening. Then I look at you and I see some of the same worry, but there’s another one, too. There’s something you’re not telling her.”

  Dante nodded. “I’m scared to. I love her so much and she’s going to hate me when she finds out that I’ve been lying to her.”

  Mama shrugged. “Probably, but are you going to let that stop you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sarah has a rare temper, especially with someone she cares about, but she has a huge ability to forgive. She can’t forgive you if you’re not there. Don’t let her drive you away if you really love her, yes?”

  “Yes, Mama.” Dante’s eyes followed Sarah as she returned from the rest room.

  “Good. You’re a good boy, but don’t let it wait too long, no? The sooner you tell her the sooner she forgives you.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Dante repeated as she and Sarah exchanged places. He needed to tell her, he wanted to tell her, but somehow he didn’t find the right moment that night.

  It wasn’t the right time when the walked hand in hand down Hanover Street

  to buy pastries at the little shop and she greeted the baker by name. It didn’t seem fair to tell her while they watched the foolish seagulls bob in the harbor, and it really wasn’t appropriate to tell her when they returned to their room and she turned in his arms and told him she loved him.

  “You what?”

  Sarah pressed a hand against her lips and muffled a giggle at the thunderstruck look on his face. She hadn’t quite meant to say the words at that moment, but they’d just come right out of nowhere. Blame it on the wine.

  “I know this isn’t a very reasonable time for either of us—you’re just getting used to living with Ellie, and I’m in the middle of God only knows what, but…”

  He held up a hand to stem the babbling tide. His blue eyes were very intense as they held hers and he demanded, “Say it again.”

  “I love you.” The very words liberated her, made her lighter as if she could just float away. It was the wrong time, the wrong place, certainly the wrong situation, but it was the right man.

  He laid his brow against hers and breathed, “Thank God,” as if she had just promised him more than she knew.

  Not sure how to take that, Sarah began to babble again. “Don’t think you have to say it just because I did. And it’s not because I’m grateful that you’re protecting me—don’t think I don’t realize that’s why you’re always around. I’m grateful of course, it’s just that I can be grateful without falling in love, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Right. And it’s not like I haven’t been in love before. Well, not like this really—in retrospect I was more Jay’s keeper than I was his lover. But what else do you call it when I think about you constantly? I can smell you on my clothes when you’re not around. I even dream about you. Wonderful dreams with you and Ellie and darkness and the horses all mixed together. What else could it be?” Sarah started to shift nervously from one foot to the other as Dante continued to stare at her, his eyes just inches away from hers.

  “Sounds like love to me.” Disgruntled, Sarah started to pull away from Dante, but he held on as he continued. “I can recognize the symptoms now because I’ve been going through a remarkably similar experience lately.”

  Sarah stilled. “You have?”

  “Yes. Now, since I’ve never claimed to be in love before, at first I thought it might be some sort of lingering flu, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I love you, too.”

  She started breathing again, having not realized she had stopped for a minute. “Oh. That’s all right then.”

  “I rather think so.” Dante slid his arms around her and let his palms warm against the thin material of the blue dress. “Let’s try it this way.” He kissed her gently, softly, letting his lips linger over the words. “I love you.”

  Sarah leaned into his mouth and wound her arms around his neck. “I love you, too.” And then there was no more need for words beyond the murmurs and soft exclamations that accompanied their love.

  The night spun out endlessly between them and moonlight drifted in through one small window to bathe the hotel bed in blue stardust. Their bodies twined together and strained toward
the same elusive goal as Sarah and Dante each put aside their separate fears and secrets and for that eternally brief moment allowed themselves to become one.

  When they lay cuddled together, sweat cooling on their bodies while the starlight faded from the window, Dante stared into the darkness and waited for his lover to sleep.

  “Hsst. Over here! This looks like a service entrance of some sort, maybe it’ll have an easier lock to bypass.” Dante crouched over the door handle even as he wrinkled his nose against the stench of the alley. Daniel joined him and the men used a small penlight to examine the keypad.

  “Bugger. It’s another of those stupid card key things. Doesn’t anyone use regular locks any more?”

  The plan had been simple: break into Boston General’s Genetic Testing Unit and have a look through Gordon Seville’s office and maybe Fontaine’s old lab. Practical application of the strategy was a bit harder to come by when they finally arrived at the address.

  Both Daniel and Dante had, at separate times in their lives, found it expedient to learn some basic breaking and entering skills. However lock technology had surpassed their training in the intervening years. Skeleton keys and lock picks weren’t much use on the complex code locks that guarded the lab.

  Dante stepped away and slapped his dirty hands against the dark slacks he’d worn. “Darn. We should’ve thought of this, we’re pretty pitiful secret agents, here. Do you think we can trust Bender enough to come let us in?”

  Daniel snorted. “Only if we don’t mind being greeted by a big, angry goon squad with orders to make us disappear.” He looked up at the rows of windows far above their heads. “This is one of those old buildings that got remodeled to take high tech tenants. There’s got to be a way for us to get in.”

  A voice came from the shadows. “There is.”

  Both men spun around at the voice and blinked into the glare when a high-powered flashlight was snapped on and shone full in their eyes. Dante’s stomach sank and he prepared to run or fight. Then he realized that the voice had been familiar. “Sarah! What are you doing here?”

 

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