by Dara Girard
Chapter 7
Carla sat in her favorite café wondering what she could do to help her friend. She knew that approaching Justin now wouldn’t be a good idea. Perhaps it would be best to leave them both to sort it out. Carla sipped her coffee, then glanced over at a young man trying to calm a screaming infant. If he didn’t succeed soon the other customers might have him thrown out. One went over to a cashier and pointed to the young man. Carla felt sorry for the new father. She knew how it felt to not belong.
She recalled signing up for an aerobics class and discovering that she was not only the oldest member in the group, but also the most uncoordinated. She had as much elegance as a giraffe on roller skates. The instructor had coolly suggested that she try something “less strenuous.” She stood up and dashed over to the father before the manager was called.
“Give her to me,” she demanded.
The young man looked up at her, startled, then handed her the baby. Carla held the baby and soon the crying stopped.
“Wow, that was amazing,” the man said. “I’ve never met a baby whisperer before.”
Carla laughed. “No, I just have lots of practice. I babysat through high school and college. There were lots of new mothers in my neighborhood.” And she’d really needed the money, but she didn’t mention that.
She looked at the man closely and realized he wasn’t as young as she’d first assumed. He was probably in his early to mid thirties. He had a nice open face and a five-o’clock shadow that made him look vulnerable rather than gruff. But what she found most interesting was the faint shimmer of glitter on his face.
“Can I buy you a coffee?” he asked. “Please,” he added when she started to refuse. He stood up. “What can I get you?”
“I have my purse and things at that table.”
“I’ll get them for you. Just tell me what I can get you.”
She gave him her order, then sat at his table. She glanced down and saw several textbooks and loose papers strewn all over the area next to his laptop.
The man returned to the table and set down her drink.
“Looks like you’re trying to accomplish a lot,” she said.
“Yes, I’m all done with my coursework except for my dissertation.”
“Good for you. Is your wife a student, too?”
“No. I don’t have a wife.”
“Oh, sorry. I must seem so old-fashioned to you. I mean your girlfriend.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend, either.”
“Boyfriend?”
He grinned. “No.”
“Oh.”
“It’s just Ariel and me.”
“And you are?”
“I’m Griffin Holt. And you are...?”
“Carla Petton.”
“I know a lot of people think I’m trying to do too much, but ‘I’ve got great ambition to die of exhaustion rather than boredom.’”
“Thomas Carlyle?”
“Exactly. I guess I need to quote more obscure figures so that I can impress women like you with my wit.”
She laughed. “I’m already impressed. I have one question.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“What’s the story behind the glitter on your face?”
He wiped his cheek. “Really? Where?”
“Near your chin.”
He gave it a brush. “Gone?”
“No.”
He turned his face to her. “Wipe it off for me.”
She used her thumb to swipe it off. “What have you been doing?”
“Helping the university’s theater team with the stage set for A Christmas Carol.”
“Sounds exciting. I used to do some acting in my younger days.”
“So not very long ago?”
“A flatterer.”
“I mean every word.”
Carla felt her face grow warm. She glanced down at Ariel, who was now fast asleep. She was a beautiful baby. Her skin was the color of dark, dark chocolate, with silky, pitch-black eyebrows and lashes. She was a little on the chubby side, with a short fluffy afro framing her perfectly round face, with pink cupid lips that looked almost unreal, like they had been pasted on by a sculptor. “I guess I should—”
“What do you do?” he asked quickly, as if he didn’t want her to leave.
“I’m a scientist.”
“Tell me about it.”
So she told him about Ventico Labs and about her vision for the new research she would be heading. He listened like few people did and asked interesting questions. Soon they were chatting like old friends. Then it was his turn. They talked for another forty-five minutes about his dissertation and plans for the future, and when she finally glanced at her watch Carla was shocked by the time. “I’d better dash.”
“I should, too.” He gathered up his things.
Carla grabbed Ariel’s coat and put it on her. She could see that it was new and an expensive label, unlike the coat he wore, which was fraying at the edges. It was clear his priority right now was his daughter’s welfare. She wanted to know more about him, including why he was a single father. She set Ariel in the stroller, but the baby squirmed and scrunched up her face, ready to cry again. “No, don’t do that,” Carla said, putting a pacifier in her trembling mouth. Ariel looked at her and calmed. Carla smiled at her then straightened and looked up. She saw Griffin staring, and Carla released a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry. I was taking liberties, wasn’t I?”
“You were great. You’re so calm and gentle with her. It’s nice to see.”
Carla didn’t know what to say so she just nodded and grabbed her coat. He rushed around the table and helped her put her it on, his fingers brushing her neck.
“Would you like to go?” he asked. “To the play, I mean.”
“I don’t know.”
“I could get you tickets if you want. One for you and Mr. Petton.”
“There isn’t a Mr. Petton.”
“A significant other?”
“No.”
He grinned. “Good, that’s what I hoped you’d say. What’s your number?”
* * *
Lora was under her bed covers when the phone rang. She swallowed when she recognized the number. It was Justin. She’d been a coward and not spoken to anyone at the office since emailing her resignation. Would she be fired over the phone? No, she couldn’t get fired after she’d already resigned.
“Hello?”
“It’s Silver. Don’t hang up—just hear me out. You asked me once to tell you about Warren. I met him more than ten years ago when we both attended a scientific symposium in Hawaii. We were on a panel featuring young upcoming scientists, and we were required to make a ten-minute presentation. When it came time for Rappaport’s presentation, several of the attendees caused a scene, claiming he had stolen their thesis idea and presented it as his own. They were hastily removed, but I decided to look into the allegations, and although it could not be proven beyond a reasonable doubt, I supported their accusations.
“So I sent a note to the magazine that had initially published his work, and they sent a letter to Rappaport informing him that they would put a small retraction in the upcoming issue, stating they were not liable for any omission of truth or subsequent revelations regarding the article he had written.
“Although I had hoped I would remain anonymous, somehow Rappaport found out that I was the so-called whistleblower. He eventually ended up leaving the university, where he was doing his graduate work. And regarding that toy, the Digital Dilly, he may have a sick cousin, but I doubt he’d give anything to her. He’s estranged from every family member he has. Besides, I’m sure he didn’t mention that he was able to get a rain check and his Digital Dilly will arrive by Christmas Eve. Anyway, that’s all I can say abou
t him, and I hope we can now consider this chapter closed. So are you packed yet?”
“Packed?” Lora repeated. “Didn’t you get my letter?”
“Amazing what the delete button can do. Now, answer my question.”
“Am I packed?”
“Yes, for tomorrow’s flight. I know you don’t want to go, but we couldn’t get a replacement at such a short notice. I’ll meet you at the airport. I sent you an email with all the information. Don’t be late.”
Lora stared at the phone, then hung up. If Justin was to be believed, Warren was even worse than she’d imagined. One thing was for certain, as much as she didn’t want to, she was going to have to face Justin again.
Chapter 8
Minnesota
The taxi driver had been talking almost nonstop since picking them up at the airport. Lora found him a comforting contrast to the man sitting beside her. She and Justin had barely spoken since meeting at the airport back in Baltimore. They hadn’t been assigned seats close together on the plane, and except for a few terse words, they might as well have been complete strangers. She knew it was her fault. The picture she’d painted of him had been completely wrong and now she had to try to see him in a new light. She had to see him as a man. A man who could be distant but considerate. A man who didn’t suffer fools gladly but still offered a second chance. He’d given her one. She was sure he could have gotten a replacement on short notice because there were plenty of other researchers in the lab who would have jumped at an opportunity like this. She owed him an apology—but more than that, she wanted this project to work.
She pulled out her cell phone and texted him.
You were right.
She surreptitiously watched him pull his cell phone out of his jacket and glance down. She couldn’t read his face. Would he accept her apology?
She looked down at her phone when a reply popped up.
About what?
Warren. He’s a creep.
I told u so.
I already feel like a worm. U don’t have to step on me.
I’m not. I’m agreeing with u.
Why didn’t u stop me? Why didn’t u tell me how wrong I was?
Would u have listened?
Lora sighed, feeling ashamed.
Probably not.
I can’t stop you from thinking the worst about me, but I’m not a bad guy.
I know. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I’ve learned my lesson.
Good.
And I’m sorry.
How sorry?
She turned to him, but his profile was like granite. Was he being serious?
Is there a scale?
Yes.
If I could turn back time and erase it from memory, I would.
Everything? Even the phone call?
Her face burned. She was too startled to reply. Lora reread the text to make sure it was real. What could she say? She bit her lip, not daring to look at him.
“We’re here,” the driver announced.
Lora yanked her head up and lost her grip on her phone, which fell to the floorboard. She bent down to grab it, but it slid under the front seat.
“Want me to help you?” Justin said.
“No, I’m fine.” She finally wrapped her hand around her phone’s smooth surface. She straightened, then looked up and stared through the windshield. She saw an imposing structure. It looked abandoned.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” she asked, opening the taxi door. She looked around. It seemed so empty. She turned and saw Justin removing their bags from the trunk. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Jumping to conclusions again?”
“No, but—”
“This is the location I was given.” He paid the taxi driver, then walked up to the front door. “They’re expecting us. It’s all been arranged.” He knocked, then rang the doorbell. No answer.
He frowned. “That’s odd. They knew we were coming.”
Lora hugged herself, but it was a flimsy shield against the biting cold. Justin’s phone rang. He answered and she saw his face change. “Oliver....What do you mean you’ve been trying to reach me? Yes, we’re here. We just arrived....What? Why didn’t anyone tell us this before? Of course I’m angry. The taxi’s gone and we can’t get inside. Okay, but...” He nodded. “I understand that but what are we supposed to do in the meantime?” He listened, then sighed. “Okay.” He disconnected.
Lora cringed. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“Yes, the project’s been cancelled. Yesterday, a lab technician mishandled the remaining samples and ruined them. So the lab’s been shut down for the holidays. Dr. Ruthers told the technician to make sure to get the information to Dr. Rollins, but she didn’t send the email until early this morning. Dr. Ruthers has already gone on vacation to Bermuda.”
Lora rubbed her hands together and bounced up and down, trying to keep warm. “Well, what are we supposed to do?”
“Wait. Oliver said he’ll get back to me in a second with the security code so that we can enter the building. Dr. Ruthers said we should make ourselves comfortable until we can fly back home.”
“I hope it’s soon. I’m freezing.”
Justin took off his scarf and wrapped it around her.
“But—”
“Just be quiet.”
“I don’t want you to be cold.”
Justin lifted his collar. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m cold-blooded, remember?”
Lora moved closer, untied part of his scarf and wrapped it around him. “It’s long enough to share, so don’t argue. I can’t stand here having you look as cold as I feel.” The scarf brought them closer than she’d expected, but it felt oddly comforting being near him.
His cell phone rang.
“I’ll get that,” she said before he could protest. She reached inside his coat and grabbed his phone. “Dr. Rollins?”
“Rice? Where’s Silver?”
“He’s busy. Do you have the code to enter the building?”
“Yes.” He gave her the combination.
“Thanks, Dr. Rollins, and I apologize for my unprofessional behavior the other day. It was way out of order and will never happen again.”
“Good, then I need you to do me a favor without asking questions. Make sure you both get inside and warm up as fast as possible and drink plenty of liquids.”
“Will do.” She disconnected the cell phone, then entered the code in the keypad near the door. The alarm shut off, and they entered. The place was freezing. Lora searched for the thermostat, raised it, then looked around. For a moment, Lora thought they had entered a medieval castle. Stacks of books and piles of papers were everywhere. In the entryway off to the side rose a spiral staircase that appeared to lead up to a small loft above. Then there was the main staircase leading to the second floor. The house had an eerie feeling because of the dark wood paneling that lined the hallway and each of the rooms. What she assumed was the family room was filled with an array of stuffed wild game, including a snowy white owl and a red fox. “Wow, I guess he must enjoy hunting,” Lora said.
Justin came into the room. “Oliver told me that he’s a little eccentric. Actually, I think these animals may have been his pets. Look, they have names. He must have had them stuffed after they died.”
They wandered around some more and found a small room off the kitchen that had a TV and a radio. “At least we will be able to keep ourselves entertained,” Justin said.
Since they weren’t going to be conducting any experiments, they did not venture to the basement, the location of Dr. Ruther’s private lab. Plus a large sign reading “DO NOT ENTER” was posted on the door to the basement, and it was padlocked.
Lora looked at Justin as he set their bags in
the small living area. He looked a bit pale. She knew it best not to ask if he was okay because he’d lie and say he was fine. She glanced around and saw a heavy woolen throw. She marched over to him and took his hand.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Just follow me.”
She dragged him over to the couch, pushed him down, then draped a throw, that was nearby, around him. “You need this. Your teeth are chattering.”
“But you—”
“I’m warm now. I guess we’ll have to stay here for the night and reschedule our flight back. Oh, Dr. Rollins said we need to make sure to drink lots of fluids. Let me check the kitchen to see what supplies we have.”
“I have a carton of juice in my bag.”
“I’ll get it,” she said before he could get up. Lora went to his backpack, opened a flap and saw a colorful drawing inside. “A rabbit?”
Justin had his head back and his eyes closed, but a faint smile touched his lips. “My niece drew it for me.”
“Cute.” She grabbed the carton she’d seen him buy at the airport, then opened the top and handed it to him. “Do you want to take a nap?”
“No.” He opened his eyes and reached for the carton. “This is good, thanks.”
“I’ll go see if I can make coffee or something warm.” Lora went into the kitchen and was thankful to see that there was enough food and drinks to sustain them for a couple of days. She really didn’t like how worn Justin looked. She made a pot of coffee and returned with a cup. She watched Justin finish the carton of juice and then take the coffee and finish it, too.
