The Body Shifters (Book 1 Body Shifters Trilogy): A Novel (The Body Shifters Trilogy)

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The Body Shifters (Book 1 Body Shifters Trilogy): A Novel (The Body Shifters Trilogy) Page 14

by Leslie O'Kane


  Opting to stall until Tyler left the area, Ellie reduced her keyboarding skills to a fraction of her actual speed. The interviews she’d done earlier that afternoon had been frustrating. She had been naïve to think that she’d get any valuable information about ABTC’s operations from Alzheimer’s patients. Only one of the five patients she’d spoken with even knew that he or she was in a healthcare facility—they’d thought they were in a hotel with singularly lousy service. One kept complaining about the limited “beach access.”

  Tyler finally left the room, and Ellie quickly downloaded Daniel’s spyware. She then picked up her keyboarding pace. She had just finished typing in the fourth patient’s answers when she heard a footstep behind her. She spun around in her chair, startled to see that it was Jennifer McGavin.

  “Hello, Elizabeth,” Jennifer said with a smile. “You seem a little jumpy.”

  “Too much coffee, I guess.”

  “Have you met Tyler Behuniak yet?”

  “Yes, he was just here.”

  Jennifer nodded and sat down in the chair that Tyler had recently vacated. “How are you getting along?”

  “Fine, thanks.”

  Jennifer tilted her head a little and continued to study Ellie’s gaze. “A wise friend of mine once told me that ‘fine’ really means: ‘feelings internal not expressed.’”

  Ellie was nonplused but muttered, “I’m good. All things considered.”

  “Yes. Considering the recent loss of your parents. And having to leave your high school friends behind to move to another city.”

  Ellie braced herself, worried about whatever ulterior motive Jennifer might have for pretending to care about her emotional well-being. “It helps me to keep busy. I really appreciate your giving me this job.”

  Jennifer gave her a sad smile. “I lost my parents, too, when I was just about your age.”

  Freaked out by Jennifer sharing personal information, Ellie steeled herself against chewing on her lower lip. Her mother had once told her that Ellie’s nervous gesture was a dead giveaway whenever she was trying to hide something. “I’m sorry. Were they in a car accident, too, like my parents?”

  Jennifer shook her head. “My mother died from cancer when I was twelve. My father died five years later, of a gunshot wound. During a robbery at a pizzeria, of all things, where he was simply a customer. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “That’s terrible,” Ellie said, hoping her face wasn’t betraying her angst. Had both of their fathers truly died of gunshot wounds, or was Jennifer lying in order to test her reactions? “You must have been devastated.”

  “I was. It was hard to get past my guilt. He’d wanted to make us dinner that night. I’d convinced him to get us a pizza instead. He was only in the pizzeria because of me.”

  This personal information struck Ellie as wildly inappropriate for someone of Dr. McGavin’s stature to be sharing with a teenage new-hire. Even so, the tug of Ellie’s guilt over her father’s death was strong. “I felt the same way about my parents’ car accident. If I’d done things just slightly differently, they wouldn’t have been at that particular intersection at that particular moment in time.”

  “How so?” Jennifer crossed her legs. Ellie found herself staring at them; they were now remarkably thin. Several months ago, they’d been remarkably shapely.

  “My mother and I had argued on the phone,” Ellie lied. “She and my dad were having dinner alone at a restaurant, which is something they practically never did. I’d forgotten that I needed some supplies for an oral presentation I was giving. I took out my aggravation with myself on my poor mom and told her I’d get a lousy grade unless they could get me a white tri-fold display board on their way home.” Ellie shrugged. She’d managed to resist chewing on her lip, but her cheeks were steadily growing warmer.

  “So you feel guilty because you asked your mother to run an errand for you. Which they were undoubtedly happy to do for you.” Jennifer sighed. “It’s terrible what our minds do to us. At your age, you should be having the time of your life. But I sense that you’re similar to how I was at your age instead . . . throwing all your energy into your academics . . . thinking that it’s safer to concentrate on acquiring information than on trying to win someone’s heart.”

  Even though Ellie knew very well that Jennifer was putting on a show, her act was convincing. This is all a lie! Why am I being drawn in? “Yeah, I’m pretty much a social misfit. I’ve never had the guts to actually try to . . . win someone’s heart.”

  Jennifer made a sympathetic murmur. “You and I are kindred spirits. But then, a lot of straight-A students tend to hide behind books, so I can’t take much credit for being perceptive.” She paused and rolled her eyes in an almost-charming manner and added, “Which is not to say that I’m too humble to refrain from gracing you with my wisdom now.”

  Ellie managed an appropriate chuckle.

  “If I had it all to do again, Elizabeth, I’d have realized that there’s only one truly important lesson to be learned from losing my parents so young—that we never know how much time we—”

  “Jennifer,” Ethan interrupted. He was standing in the doorway. “There you are. You’d said you wanted to compare surgical notes.”

  “I’ll be right with you, Ethan.”

  Ethan lingered, as if to listen in.

  “I’ll meet you in your office in a minute,” Jennifer told him.

  He nodded and walked away.

  Jennifer met Ellie’s gaze with what appeared to be genuine warmth. “Life is a balancing act, Elizabeth. Be smart, but also let yourself be foolish while you’re still young enough to recover from your mistakes. Be passionate. I know it’s the biggest cliché that there is, but time truly does pass all too quickly.” She rose.

  These words of sage-sounding advice are coming from my father’s murderer. She had to ignore her roil of emotions and respond as Elizabeth Peterson might. “Thank you for your advice, Dr. McGavin. It means a lot, coming from someone of your stature.”

  “I’m glad we had this little chat. You have excellent potential, and you remind me a little of myself at your age. I hope that I can be a source of strength.”

  Taken aback by Jennifer’s egotism, Ellie took a moment to collect herself. “You are,” she replied.

  Jennifer gave Ellie a beatific smile, then left.

  Chapter 20

  Ellie surrendered to the case of the shakes that she’d been battling ever since Jennifer had entered the room. She took a couple of deep, calming breaths. She couldn’t afford to cower like this every time she had an unsettling encounter with one of the McGavins; she would betray herself just as Daniel had forewarned. She had to get evidence on the McGavins and get the hell out of ABTC.

  If she could prove that at least one of the patients in the brain-trauma ward was being forcibly kept in a drug-induced coma, she and Jake could bring that information to the police. For starters, she needed a list of coma-patients’ names. She started to type in a search for patient names.

  “You’re still at the computer?” Tyler asked, suddenly standing behind her. “Tic toc, dudette!”

  Who talks like that! Ellie inwardly grumbled. Does this stupid kid have to arrive on the scene at the worst possible moment?!

  “I’ll just be a few more minutes, Tyler. How about if you go get us both something from the vending machine, my treat?”

  “How about you remember which one of us has seniority here? This is my computer time. Capiche, muchacha?”

  “Nobody told me there were time clocks for the computer.”

  “Now you know.” He made a flicking-away-a-fly gesture toward the hallway.

  Reasoning that she wasn’t going to be able to compile a list of patient names anyway with him in the room, she rose. He promptly grabbed the seat. “You must be really popular at your high school, Tyler,” Ellie grumbled.

  He started keying in the interview information from a patient interview. “Yep. And I intend to th
ank everyone in my entire graduating class for making me their valedictorian.”

  Wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine by watching him type, Ellie remained standing and read over his shoulder. His data was regarding a sixty-eight year old female patient. Like Roger Culpepper, her struggle with memory loss had recently improved significantly.

  After a minute or so, Tyler snorted and said, “Why are you snooping? This isn’t a test paper, you realize. You can’t cheat off me.”

  “I was just noticing the similarity between this patient—Susan Mitchell—and a man I had interviewed on my first day at ABTC.”

  “That’s too bad. I was hoping to get the Magnificent Seven all to myself.”

  “Pardon?”

  “The seven patients who’ve had a memory refresh. It’s remarkable. They had an experimental medical procedure that physically restores their memories.” He snorted, then muttered, “Although it’s not as if any of them remember being told about the procedure.”

  The McGavins are using Jake’s invention the way he intended it be used! And it works! Ellie pulled the second chair up to Tyler’s desk and sat down. “That’s fascinating. But if the patients themselves don’t remember having this refresh procedure, how did you find out about it?”

  “From Ethan,” he said with obvious self-satisfaction. “Doctor McGavin, to you.”

  She decided she’d be best served by continuing to flatter Tyler’s enormous ego, and by ignoring the fact that he was a horse’s ass. “Ethan McGavin talks to you about his medical procedures? That’s really impressive. Do you have clearance to shadow Dr. McGavin when he’s doing rounds?”

  Tyler snorted. “Not counting the Doctors McGavin themselves, none of the staff on this wing has clearance to set foot in the brain-trauma wing. Not even me.”

  That’s what Ellie had expected him to say. Once things had settled down last night, Jake had complained about this very quandary. Jake had no way to measure the accuracy of the patients’ medical conditions according to their files; the McGavins were able to adjust computerized patient histories however they saw fit.

  “How long have you worked here?” she asked Tyler.

  “I started just after the holidays. But that still gives me seniority over you.”

  Her hopes sank; he’d come on board just a couple of weeks before she had, and after Jake Greyland had escaped. Tyler wouldn’t be able to give her any valuable information about what had transpired before or during Jake’s tenure at ABTC.

  “I’m a quick learner,” Tyler added. “And you know why?”

  “Because you’ve got a high IQ?”

  He swiveled around in his chair to look at her. “Well, yes. There’s that. My mother’s an astrophysicist and my father’s a lawyer. They met at Harvard. But I was referring to the fact that I know how to make the most of my time.” He sneered at her. “And I’m not going to let you hog the computer just because you bat your eyes at me.”

  Ellie glared at him. “I wasn’t batting my eyes.”

  He turned to face his screen and resumed keyboarding. “Maybe not literally.”

  “What are the names of the other Magnificent Seven?”

  He made that irritating swishing-a-fly gesture again. “Done talking.”

  Ellie was tempted to give him the finger, but resisted. She, too, was a fast learner who knew how to spend her time. Tyler was never going to be willing to help her. Furthermore, the patients weren’t capable of helping her. That left Natalie as her lone source of information.

  #

  Ellie hung up her coat in the closet of the apartment, noting that Daniel’s brown leather bomber’s jacket was missing from its usual spot on the back of the wooden chair. “Anybody home?” Ellie called.

  “Just me,” Jake answered. He emerged from his room. As if in a sarcastic toast, he lifted a glass half full with amber liquid. “And my only friend . . . Jim Beam.”

  “You’re drunk?” Ellie asked, surprised.

  “Not yet. I hope to be in a few minutes. Or in several minutes, if it turns out that Eric Sterling has a high tolerance for alcohol.” He took a sip and grimaced. “Never liked bourbon, but we’re out of beer, and this was all I could find in the liquor cabinet.”

  “Who’s Eric Sterling?”

  Jake spread his arms. “You’re looking at him.”

  “That’s whose body you’re in?”

  “Yeah. I discovered that a couple of hours ago while I was doing a search on ‘missing persons.’ Eric Sterling was from a small town in West Virginia. His kid brother put out a plea on the internet for Eric to contact him. Says he needs to know he’s at least alive, even if he won’t ever come back home . . . that their mother is dying.”

  Remembering how painful it was when she’d met Alexis’s parents, Ellie winced; she could imagine how much worse it would have felt to learn that Alexis had a young sibling who was searching for her because their mother was on her deathbed. “I’m so sorry, Jake. That’s heartbreaking. Just like everything else has been since day one.”

  Jake averted his gaze and took another sip of his whiskey. “I found a couple of news stories about Sterling’s disappearance that verified the names of his family members, including his kid brother’s.” With an aura of utter defeat, he sank down onto the couch. “The worst part is: I can’t respond to the plea. Not even simply to claim that his brother is dead. For all I know, it’s a trap. The McGavins could have posed as the kid brother. If so, they’ll trace my computer.”

  Not knowing what else she could possibly say, Ellie again said, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Well, that makes two of us. I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done with my Alzheimer’s research. It’s caused nothing but pain.” Jake closed his eyes. “I wanted to help people.” His voice was full of anguish.

  “You have.”

  Jake opened his eyes only to glare at her. “How can you, of all people, believe that for a nanosecond?”

  “Because of the Alzheimer’s patient interviews. There’s a jerk named Tyler who works with Natalie and me. He told me that the McGavins started testing a ‘memory-refresh’ procedure on seven of the patients the beginning of January. I talked to one of them myself—Roger Culpepper—yesterday, and Natalie was shocked at how lucid he suddenly was.”

  “So . . . they used my memory-transfer device on him? You’re sure?”

  “Yes,” Ellie said.

  Jake looked stunned. “I remember Culpepper,” he said. “According to his neuropsychological screening tests, his dementia wasn’t sufficiently advanced for him to qualify for the program. The corroborative evidence from his daughter convinced me to take him, even so. Since then, his decline was especially precipitous.”

  “All seven of the patients had deteriorated drastically in the last eighteen months. Now they’re all right back to where they were when they first agreed to have you upload their minds into one of your devices.”

  He searched her eyes. “Are you telling me the truth?”

  “Yes, Jake.”

  “So my invention works?”

  “It does. You’ve given those seven people the gift of their own memories.”

  Jake snorted. “For another eighteen months, tops.”

  Ellie took a seat beside him on the sofa. “But that’s eighteen months of restored memories that they wouldn’t have had otherwise.”

  He shrugged and took another sip of bourbon. “That’s something, I guess.”

  “It’s huge, Jake! You’ll be able to pass along your research to reputable medical-research scientists. You’ve advanced the search for a cure for a horrendous disease!”

  He stared straight ahead for a few seconds, then finally met her gaze. “Maybe. Thanks, Ellie. This means a lot to me.” He set down his glass on the coffee table, but continued to look as gloomy as ever.

  “So . . . this is you feeling proud of yourself?” Ellie joshed, trying to cheer him up. “You could have fooled me.”

  He gave her a sad smile. “Nobody fools
you for long.”

  “Thanks. That’s almost a compliment.”

  “It is a compliment. I always think nice thoughts about you. I just never feel like I can actually say them out loud.”

  “Why not?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you hate my guts.”

  She grinned. “You let a little thing like my deep hatred for you interfere with our interactions?”

  He laughed. His gaze softened for a moment, and Ellie had the shocking impression that he wanted to kiss her. Before she could process her thoughts, he looked away. “Do you ever wonder what might have—”

  He broke off at the sound of the latch on the front door opening. Daniel entered the apartment. He closed and double-bolted the lock. “Good. You’re both here. I’ve been monitoring the bugs in the—” He studied their faces.

  Ellie felt herself blush.

  Daniel furrowed his brow and glared at Jake. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “Don’t be a jackass,” Jake said. “Of course not!”

  Ellie felt a little hurt that Jake was so affronted.

  “Apologies,” Daniel muttered, shedding his coat and draping it across a chair. “Anyway. The McGavins seem to be editing themselves when they’re in their offices. Their speech patterns have been artificial as hell. I think they’ve found the bugs and are leaving them in place so as not to tip their hands.”

  “Tell me exactly what they said,” Jake said. “Word for word.”

  “I can do you one better and play it back for you on my computer,” Daniel said, ignoring her. He started to boot up his computer. “It’s more what they didn’t say.”

  Suddenly irritated by both men, Ellie rose and headed toward her room.

  Just as Ellie was about to close her door behind her, Daniel said, “Ellie? Is something wrong?”

  Ellie wanted to shout: Everything! At the same time, she wanted to smile and say, Nothing. Both answers felt equally valid. It wasn’t as if she’d wanted Jake to kiss her. She just didn’t want him not to want to, yet that was a vapid, self-absorbed wish. “Is it too much to ask that we could have one simple, friendly conversation? That maybe I could spend just five minutes feeling like a normal human being?”

 

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