“If that’s her only option,” Jake conceded.
“Well, it isn’t. But if I don’t show up for work, they’ll revoke my employee ID badge. Which means we lose any chance to ratchet up my badge’s security clearance; we’ll never be able to break into the brain-trauma wing.”
“I still haven’t been able to gain computer access to change your clearance level,” Daniel pointed out.
“But you can at least keep trying till they take my badge. I’ll go into work tomorrow and tell them that I’m taking a few days off next week to prepare for a big presentation. They won’t believe me, but it will buy us the weekend . . . plus it will give me a couple of hours to keep an eye out for new coma patients being admitted.”
“No, Ellie,” Daniel said. “You’re taking too big of a risk!”
“Not really,” Ellie said, although she was afraid that he was right. “It’s not as if Ethan’s going to shoot me dead on the spot. That would cause a police investigation and wreck their plans. In any case, my mind is made up. Your only choice is to lock me in my room, or to let me try.”
Daniel and Jake exchanged exasperated expressions. “I guess she’s got a point,” Daniel said.
“When your ship sinks,” Jake said, “you have to at least try to tread water.” He returned to the stove, then faced them and lifted his serving spoon as if to make a toast. “Last meal, anyone?”
#
If Natalie was even in school the next day, she and Ellie hadn’t crossed paths once. Scared and exhausted after a sleepless night, Ellie could have used a friendly face.
Ellie dragged herself onto the Metro and arrived at ABTC on time. She and the security guard exchanged greetings. “Is Dr. McGavin in the building?” she asked, noting with pride that her voice sounded reasonably calm.
“Both of the McGavins are in,” he replied.
“Oh, good,” Ellie said, although she raised her eyebrows, unable to fully mask her surprise at Jennifer’s reporting to work a day after she’d collapsed in pain. Ellie used her badge to let herself through the security door.
She decided she should go to Jennifer’s office as soon as possible. As she forced herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other, she rehearsed in her head the words she would say: Dr. McGavin? I’ve been thinking it over, and I need to take a few days off to concentrate on my school work. Did that sound too wishy-washy? Should she simply claim that she had a paper to write on War and Peace? Which excuse would Elizabeth Peterson give? She’d worked there for less than a week. Maybe she should claim someone dropped out of Driver’s Ed and she got in from the waiting list.
She stored her things in a locker then headed to Jennifer’s office. Regardless of her wording, she again worried that she’d be told to turn in her employee badge.
The trip down the corridor wasn’t as long as Ellie would have liked it to be. She shored herself up and knocked.
“Come in,” Jennifer said. The voice sounded reasonably hearty.
Ellie entered. Seated at her desk, Jennifer looked frail. Her color was good, but her skin was the type of tawny shade that tended to come from bottled tanning lotion. Ellie forced a small smile. “Hi, Dr. McGavin. Are you feeling better?”
“Much. Thank you for asking.” She furrowed her brow as she studied Ellie’s features, and she gestured for Ellie to come closer. “Is everything all right, Elizabeth?”
“Not really.” Ellie reluctantly approached. Her stomach was completely knotted. I should have just called in sick.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just . . . personal stuff.”
“Your grief over your loss?” Jennifer asked solemnly, reeking with sincerity.
Ellie nodded, inwardly relieved that Jennifer had handed her the perfect excuse. “Sometimes I feel like I’m doing well. And most of the time I am totally fine. Then all of a sudden, out of the blue, I start thinking about my parents’ accident, and I start panicking and think that this is all way too hard to handle. What I’ve realized—”
“Just a moment, Elizabeth,” Jennifer interrupted. “Hold that thought.” She typed something that had to be less than thirty characters in length, then shut off her computer. “Tell you what, Elizabeth. I could do with a good cup of coffee for a change, and we could both do with a change in scenery.” She got up, although she was somewhat unsteady. “Grab your coat. We’re going to the Olé Café. It’s just three blocks from here.”
The thought of leaving the premises, and therefore its safety, made Ellie more fearful than ever. She shook her head. “Thanks, Dr. McGavin, but I really shouldn’t. I wanted to talk to you about my workload.”
Jennifer proceeded to grab her own coat and purse. “Ethan mentioned that you wanted more hours. We’ll walk and talk at the same time.” She grinned and winked at Ellie as she rounded her desk. “Luckily, we’re women. The ability to multitask comes with the x chromosome.”
Feeling foiled, Ellie forced herself to grin; a chuckle was beyond her acting abilities. I should have gone with the book report on War and Peace.
“When the top boss offers to take you out on company time,” Jennifer said, arching an eyebrow, “the correct response is: ‘I’d be delighted. Thank you.’”
“I’d be delighted. Thank you. I’ll just go . . . get my coat.”
“Meet you in the front lobby in two minutes.”
On her way to the lockers, Ellie asked a nurse and a pair of attendants if they’d seen Natalie. They said no. She’d wanted to tell Natalie she was going out for coffee with Jennifer, just in case the worst-ever scenario took place and Ellie was about to be led to slaughter. She was probably being overly dramatic in any event. It was hardly necessary to “slaughter” her; simply injecting her with a lethal drug would do the trick.
#
Ellie and Jennifer made small talk as they walked to the café. For fear that Jennifer might be planning to shove her into traffic, Ellie chose to walk on the inside of the sidewalk; Jennifer wasn’t strong enough to grab her by the arm and fling her under a bus. There was a chilly breeze, and Ellie donned her gloves and pulled up her collar. They crossed the final intersection. Ellie felt a measure of relief and decided she would tell Jennifer she was taking a few days off after they were seated at a table.
Although there were several open tables, four people were ahead of them in line at the counter, and the bell above the door jingled as more customers arrived. “We seem to be here at a mini-rush hour,” Jennifer said pleasantly.
“That must mean they’ve got good coffee.”
“They do. And the atmosphere here is so much nicer than our break room. I always feel like everyone’s eavesdropping on my private conversations there.”
Ellie managed to grin. Her throat felt dry. Jennifer’s remark was uncomfortably close to an acknowledgement about the presence of listening devices in the break room.
“Speaking about private conversations, Elizabeth, please don’t share what I’m about to tell you with anyone. We used to have a brilliant young neuroscientist, Jake Greyland, under our employ. He passed away in a terrible, untimely accident. Lately we’ve been having trouble with an important research project that he was conducting. What I wouldn’t give anything to pick that man’s brain!”
Ellie pretended to have something in her eye, so that she could avert her gaze. Oh, my God! She’s totally onto me! I’ve got to get out of here!
Jennifer sighed. “I wish you could have met him. But, I don’t mean to get all moribund.”
“That’s all right,” Ellie muttered.
Quit panicking! she told herself. It wasn’t as if Jennifer was going to kill her in a public place!
She glanced at the man behind her. He was a forty-ish looking man, wearing a John Deere cap and a parka. He gave her a polite smile, which she was reasonably certain she returned.
“Maybe I should get us a table,” Ellie suggested, removing her gloves, her hands shaking.
“That’s a good idea. This is my treat, of course. What
would you like? Cappuccino? Latte?”
“A tall mocha latte, please.” Ellie dropped one of her gloves. The man in the John Deere cap started to bend over to pick it up, but Ellie said quickly, “Thanks, but I’ve got it.” She bent down and swept it up. Then she froze, staring at the man’s left boot.
He had a distinctive diagonal slash across the square toe of the black leather. She’d seen that mark before. It had been a sight she was unlikely to ever forget. That boot with its distinctive slash-mark was the last thing she’d seen through her own eyes—the boot she’d focused on as she lay dying.
The man standing inches away from her was the gunman who had killed her father.
“Do you want whipped cream on top?” Jennifer was asking her.
Time seemed to have stopped. Ellie felt faint from terror.
“Ellie?”
“Yes,” she managed. “Be right back.” She staggered in the direction where she hoped to find a women’s room. Fortunately, she’d guessed correctly, and she managed to get herself through the door.
The bathroom had two stalls. Ellie dashed into the first one and vomited.
“Are you okay?” the woman in the second stall asked, her voice carrying under the partition.
No! Ellie thought, but said, “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you preggers?”
Can’t I ever get a fricking break?! Do I have to share a bathroom with the nosiest woman on the planet?! “Stomach flu. Highly contagious.”
The woman left a moment later. Ellie’s wave of nausea passed, but she struggled to regain control of herself. She flushed the toilet and stood up, but remained in the stall.
She dialed Daniel’s cellphone. Just that morning, he’d told her he was going to be wiping off his fingerprints from the building across the street from ABTC this afternoon. If Ellie could reach him, Daniel could tail John Deere.
There was no answer. Ellie punched her thigh in frustration. Voice mail answered. “Daniel. The man who shot my dad is here. He’s in the restaurant.” She paused. What would Daniel and Jake do if she told them the McGavins were onto them? She needed to try to protect her mom. She needed to figure out what to do.
The hinge on the bathroom door creaked. Someone entered.
The gunman?! She flattened herself against the white-tile wall, her knee against the toilet. Could a bullet rip through this metal partition? She shut her phone.
Footsteps. Someone turned on the tap in the sink.
Ellie held her breath and closed her eyes.
The sound of running water stopped. Two soft thunks from the paper-towel dispenser. The hinge creaked, and the door thudded as it closed.
Silence.
After a few seconds, Ellie resumed breathing. She put her phone in her coat pocket and tried to figure out what to do.
Jennifer had investigated the comatose patient in Albany and now knew Ellie’s true identity. Which meant they also knew that she was working with Jake. And with Daniel. Jennifer had arranged for “John Deere” to kill her. He might stage this to look like a robbery; she would be shot, presumably by a stray bullet. Her death would be a retelling of Jennifer’s story about how her father had been killed in a pizzeria.
Ellie fought back another wave of nausea, then slowly edged her way out of the stall. The bathroom was empty. She prayed that John Deere wasn’t waiting on the other side of the door.
The line about Jake and his “accident” might have been intended as a threat, instead of blackmail. Maybe, because of Ellie’s snooping, Jennifer had targeted “Elizabeth Peterson” now. If so, Elizabeth wouldn’t know to run from “John Deere.”
Think, Ellie! she told herself, rapping herself in the head with the heels of her hands.
If she bolted—slipped out through the back door—the gig was up; she might as well stick an “Elony Montgomery” nametag on her forehead. Inside of five minutes, Jennifer would tell him to hunt her down. They’d be able to get her and Daniel’s address fairly easily. They’d also find Jake at Daniel’s apartment. Ellie would be signing a death warrant for all three of them.
Regardless of the horrible, deadly game that was playing out, Ellie decided her best choice of action was to pretend that everything was normal. She needed to bluff her way through coffee, then figure out where to go from there.
She washed her hands and splashed water on her face. Ellie studied her reflection; seeing Alexis’s face staring back at her was no longer a shock.
Jennifer might buy her story of nausea. In any case, Jake’s line about treading water when the boat sank made sense to her.
I can do this, she assured herself as she left the restroom. Jennifer had her back to me when I picked up the glove. There was no way for her to realize that I’d recognized John Deere’s shoe.
Ellie scanned the restaurant. Jennifer was seated at a small table in the corner. There was no sign of John Deere. He might have been testing my reaction on his own to see if I recognized him. Maybe Jennifer has never seen the hit man that she and Ethan had hired.
It’s okay. I can just sit with Jennifer and drink my latte. I just have to convince her that I have nothing to hide.
She crossed the room and took her seat. “Sorry about that,” Ellie said. “That hardly ever happens to me.” She took a sip of her mocha. She regretted the whipped cream now.
“Did you get sick?”
She nodded. “Lightheaded. I dropped my glove, so I bent down and stood back up again kind of fast. I got really woozy. I practically fainted.”
“Are you hypoglycemic?” Jennifer asked. “Do you tend to get lightheaded when you haven’t eaten? Especially after strenuous exercise?”
“Sometimes. It’s that time of the month. I guess it must have been a combination of factors.”
“Let’s have the lab run a quick blood test, just to be cautious.”
“No, but thanks.” She forced herself to take another sip, then set the cup down. “I really think I’m fine.”
“Maybe you caught my virus.”
“I hope not.”
“Me, too.”
Jennifer was studying her expression with hawk-like eyes. “You’d said that you wanted to talk about your work hours. It occurred to me while I was waiting for you that you might have meant that you wanted to reduce your workload, versus my first thought . . . that you wanted to add some hours.”
Ellie was feeling more and more hemmed in, and was afraid that if she went ahead and told Jennifer now that she wanted to quit, she was just tipping her hand all the more—making it clear that she was scared to remain at ABTC.
“No, you were right before. Dr. McGavin said you might be interested in hiring me to help your assistant with office work, every now and then.”
“I’ll give that some consideration, Elizabeth. Off the record, I’m still not feeling a hundred percent, and I don’t know how that’s going to affect my schedule at work. I might—”
She broke off when Ellie’s cellphone rang. Ellie flinched, deeply annoyed that she’d stupidly left the ringer on.
“Sorry,” she said and turned off her phone; Daniel was calling her back.
“Don’t be.” Jennifer glanced at her watch. “Let’s head back to work.” She rose. “Duty calls, as they say.”
Ellie nodded and stood up, indeed, feeling a little woozy. The gunman could be waiting for me right outside the coffee shop!
Chapter 25
Breathe! Ellie told herself. And don’t look behind you! She made it across the final street.
Every step of the walk to ABTC demanded a Herculean effort. The thought of getting shot in the back a second time was terrifying. The fact that she was obliged, even so, to make chit-chat and to carry an almost-full cup of latte felt unendurably cruel.
Ellie’s panic increased as she and Jennifer neared the main entrance of ABTC. Jennifer’s pace was slowing and her ankles were getting a little wobbly on her two-inch heels. Ellie knew she should hold the door for her, yet she would make herself into an easy target
for Deere.
Jennifer hesitated as she started to reach for the door handle.
“Let me get that for you,” Ellie heard herself say. She pulled the door open, inwardly cursing at herself. Jennifer already knows I’m Ellie. The only person I’m fooling here is myself!
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” Jennifer said with a smile as she brushed past.
Ellie followed Jennifer inside. “Thank you for the coffee,” Ellie said, her vision graying, her coffee sloshing in its cup despite her efforts to keep her hand steady.
“You’re welcome, though I do think we should run a quick blood test on you.” Jennifer strode past the guard at the desk without a glance. Grateful for the guard’s presence, Ellie gave him a big smile, which he returned. “Your face is flushed,” Jennifer continued, “and your hands are trembling.”
Jennifer’s hand was also shaking visibly as she held her badge up to the scanner. “Maybe I do have a touch of your virus,” Ellie said, once again holding the door.
Jennifer arched her brow as she strode past Ellie. Ellie had only just matched her stride to Jennifer’s, before Jennifer stopped short and put her hand on Ellie’s arm, signaling that Ellie should stop as well. “I realize that the physician should take her own advice. Nevertheless, my advice to you, Elizabeth, is to drink fluids, and get plenty of rest this weekend . . . starting this very minute.”
Jennifer doesn’t want to be anywhere near me when John Deere shoots me! I might not even make it to the subway station!
“Go home, Elizabeth.” Jennifer began walking again. “Doctor’s orders,” she said over her shoulder.
“I will. Thanks. I just need to get my backpack. Thanks again, Dr. McGavin.”
Breathless, Ellie dodged into the locker room, pitched her latte into the trashcan, and headed straight toward the closest bench. She sat down. Is this room bugged, too? She decided it didn’t matter. She turned on her cellphone and called Daniel.
“Ellie, where are you?” he asked.
“I’m at work, but I’m leaving in a minute or two. I’m a little nauseous. I don’t really feel like having burritos tonight.” Burritos was their code word that meant that she wasn’t able to speak freely and all was not well.
The Body Shifters (Book 1 Body Shifters Trilogy): A Novel (The Body Shifters Trilogy) Page 17
