Rick readjusted his phone. "Yes. I'm still here," he said to the person on the other end of the line while making the final turn into the parking lot.
"I have to go," Natalie explained to Kitt as Rick parked in front of Dr. Benjamin's office. "Call me if you learn anything about Mom's condition."
"Will do. And I'll call as soon as I have the bartender's name. Oh, and good luck with Dr. Benjamin. Slap him a few times for me, will you?"
Natalie had never considered herself a violent person, but heaven help her, she truly wouldn't mind slapping the doctor if he'd done what she thought he had. "Goodbye, Kitt."
Rick ended his call as well, shaking his head. "The lab results are gone," he let her know. "There's no record of my blood samples ever being logged in and no record of them ever being run."
"And what is the lab planning to do about that?" she wanted to know.
"My doctor still has the receipt of delivery for the blood vials so he knows the lab received them."
Natalie considered that a moment. "So, someone is covering up for the person who drugged you?"
"Looks that way. That's why my doctor intends to turn the matter over to the police."
Of course he did. And that meant everything would come out in the open.
Everything.
Her pregnancy. Her mother's bizarre behavior. Dr. Benjamin's involvement. Rick and she really needed to get answers about the Cyrene Project that they could pass on to the police.
"You can skip this visit with Dr. Benjamin, you know," Rick reminded her again.
"So you've said."
She slammed the car door but stopped when she realized Rick wasn't following her.
Natalie turned and saw him retrieve his jacket from the back seat. The jacket they'd picked up at his house only minutes earlier. Because she'd been so preoccupied with everything else, she hadn't realized just how odd that was. It was summer in San Antonio. The temperature would soar into the high nineties. Hardly jacket weather.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
But an answer wasn't necessary. Rick stayed in the car, concealed behind the tinted windows. She watched as Rick took a leather shoulder holster and gun from the jacket. That didn't do a lot to steady her heart. The unsteadiness went up a notch when he strapped on the holster, slipped in the gun and then put on his jacket to conceal both. He got out of the car.
Once she regained her breath, she fell in step alongside him. "You think the gun is necessary?"
"Could be. We don't know how Dr. Benjamin will react when we confront him. That's why I didn't want you to come. And don't bother reminding me that he wouldn't hurt the baby because we might not be dealing with a man who's totally sane."
Natalie swallowed hard. She didn't want to believe her life was in danger, but Rick was right. Still, they needed answers, and that meant this was a chance they had to take.
He stopped just outside the office door and stared down at her. But he did more than stare. He stepped closer and leaned his mouth in close to her ear. "Look, I know you'll do this no matter how much I object, but make just one concession for me. If things turn ugly, swear to me that you'll get out of the way."
With that, he pulled back so they could make eye contact. She opened her mouth to remind him that he could be in danger as well, but Rick merely aimed a firm glance at her stomach.
Oh, mercy.
Natalie knew what that glance meant. He was reminding her that if she were in danger, then so was the baby. And he was right about that as well.
"I won't take any unnecessary chances," she promised him. She started to leave it at that, but her mouth and her brain just didn't cooperate. "And neither will you."
He blinked. Then, he groaned. "What the hell is happening to us?"
She didn't think he meant the pregnancy and the rest of the craziness. This was about that blasted empathy they were feeling for each other.
"I can blame my reaction on hormones," she said, trying not to sound too smug.
He waited a moment, staring at her. He was so close that she could see the emotion in his eyes. She could see his mouth tighten as well, as if he were fighting a smile. Or maybe he was fighting the urge to use some profanity. She definitely understood his confusion.
"I have this need to protect you," he informed her. He said it as if it were a death sentence.
"Well, I could go all bravado and tell you that I don't need your protection, but I'm not an idiot."
His mouth tightened even more. "You need me," Rick mumbled.
Natalie wasn't sure if it was a question or not, but she nodded. "And if you think that was an easy admission for me to make—"
"I know it wasn't."
He shifted slightly, turning away from her. It didn't help. It darn sure didn't put much distance between them. He was still so close that she could smell the remnants of the laundry detergent in his black T-shirt and jeans.
That outfit, paired with his usual snakeskin boots, was Rick's usual attire. He was definitely a jeans kind of person. Rugged. Independent. A Harley-riding cowboy. And, as he'd pointed out, he could kick some serious butt if necessary. For this moment in time in her life, he was as close to ideal as she would get.
"Let's declare a truce," she suggested.
"From what?"
And he was serious, too.
Unfortunately, Natalie realized this conversation had gone in the exact direction she didn't want it to go. "I'll keep my hormones in check. You'll do the same."
His mouth didn't tighten now. It bent into a half smile. A sarcastic one. "Yeah. Right."
He didn't elaborate. Thank goodness. Rick simply nodded, continued to stare at her, and after he paused for several long seconds, he opened the door. "We'd better go inside before I say something we'd both regret."
Natalie totally agreed.
The cool air from inside the office building washed over her and cleared her head of their troubling conversation. Not that she needed such measures for head-clearing. She suddenly felt focused, and she knew this could be the beginning of an explanation that would help her start to understand what had happened.
Well, maybe.
And she might just have to accept that no explanation would help. There might be nothing anyone could say that would make her come to terms with what had happened.
Rick and she didn't stop at the receptionist's desk, though the woman sprang up from her chair and asked if she could help them. However, the alarm on her face wasn't as polite as her question. The woman's politeness faded when they continued past her and headed straight for the doctor's office.
Dr. Benjamin was there—wearing a white lab coat and seated behind his pristine desk. And, they noted thankfully, he was alone. It saved them from ousting a patient or a colleague so he would see them immediately.
Rick and Natalie went in and faced him.
The doctor didn't seem the least bit alarmed by the intrusion. He calmly removed his reading glasses and set them aside. He also took a leisurely sip of tea.
"This is obviously about the pregnancy," Dr. Benjamin concluded.
She didn't know whether to be surprised or relieved. "You bet it is," Natalie confirmed.
The phone buzzed, and the doctor answered it. Natalie listened while he assured someone, probably his receptionist, that he was indeed okay and that he was not to be disturbed.
And that disturbed Natalie.
He certainly wasn't acting like a man who was guilty of a crime. He was reacting as if Rick and she were there under totally normal circumstances.
"We know all about the Cyrene Project," Rick started. Natalie sat down, but not Rick. He leaned over the desk, violating the doctor's personal space and glaring at him. "And we figure you drugged us so you could continue with your little experiment."
The doctor flexed his thick, graying eyebrows. "Oh, I definitely wanted the project to continue. And it pleases me that there'll finally be a phase-two baby. But you have it wrong—I didn't drug you."
; "I don't believe you," Rick concluded.
Natalie echoed the same.
"I don't know how to convince you otherwise. I'm a doctor, and I run a reputable practice—"
"You were trying to play God," Rick interrupted.
"It might appear that way on the surface, but there's more to it." The doctor took another sip of tea. "Intelligent, healthy citizens will make a better civilization."
"Didn't Hitler say that?" Rick fired back.
Dr. Benjamin sat up in his chair. "I assure you, I had nothing sinister in mind. I merely paired couples who were more likely to produce intelligent, superior babies. That's why I thought the two of you would make a perfect match."
Natalie groaned. Well, that confirmed what her mother had said, and explained why Macy and her family doctor had practically pushed her into Rick's arms.
"You're both superior, you know," the doctor continued. His tone made it seem as if that excused everything he'd done, and in his mind it probably did.
"So we've been told." Rick's tone, however, accepted no such excuse. "But don't expect either of us to thank you for that genetic interference. And by the way, you still haven't convinced me that you're innocent of drugging us. You're the only one with a motive."
"But I'm not. What if I were to provide the names of the people whom I think might be guilty?"
"Names would be a good start," Natalie assured him, and she moved to the edge of her seat.
"Well, for one, you'll want to talk with Dr. Isabella Henderson."
Natalie should have already considered that. The name was as familiar to her as Dr. Benjamin's; Natalie had known the woman her entire life.
"Dr. Isabella Henderson—your business partner?" Rick questioned.
The doctor nodded. "My former partner."
"Former? Since when?" Natalie wanted to know. "Dr. Henderson was working here just a few days ago when you ran the pregnancy test on me."
"That's right. I believe that's the day Isabella and I parted company."
"Seems a little sudden, and I don't care much for the timing. Would you mind explaining why she left?" Rick insisted.
"I don't mind, but I'm not sure you'll understand. I certainly don't."
Impatient, Natalie pressed harder. "Give it a try. We're listening."
"All right. Isabella helped me start the Cyrene Project thirty-one years ago when we were completing our residencies. But a person can change a lot in thirty-one years. Trust me—Isabella changed, and that change was dramatic, especially in the past few weeks. She says now that she wants to be respected in the medical community, and she's afraid she'll be ruined professionally and lose funding for her latest research if the powers-that-be learn about the Cyrene Project."
This just kept getting deeper and deeper, but Natalie hoped that the deepness didn't extend to her siblings. "Are Rick and I the only people involved with phase two?" Natalie wanted to know.
"All the phase-one babies were paired, but if you're asking if your sister was drugged, I doubt it. Unlike you, she doesn't have gaps in her memory, and there's no indication that she's pregnant."
That was true, but it didn't make Natalie feel any better. They needed to get to the bottom of this so she could make sure her sister was safe.
Her brother, Wyatt, was also a concern, but she knew for a fact that Wyatt could take care of himself. A drugging doctor with an insane plan probably wouldn't pose much of a threat to a Justice Department operative like Wyatt. In fact, if Wyatt weren't in the Middle East on assignment, Natalie would have contacted him to see if he could help.
"Where's Dr. Henderson?" Rick demanded.
Dr. Benjamin used his notepad to write down an address. He passed it to Natalie, and she slipped it in her purse. "That's her new business office. Isabella will deny involvement, of course, and she might have a valid reason for that."
"And why is that?" Rick snarled.
"She could be innocent. I have no proof that will condemn or exonerate her."
Rick and Natalie exchanged glances. Frustrated ones. "That's right," Natalie commented. "You said you had some names for us. So, who's next on your list?" She waited for him to bring up someone on the catering staff.
"There's only one other person who I believe could be responsible for this." Dr. Benjamin rubbed his eyes, and a disconcerting sound rumbled deep in his throat. "Macy's personal assistant, Troy."
Neither Rick nor Natalie said anything, but he slowly sank down in the chair beside her. "Explain that please," Natalie insisted.
"Of course. Troy is yet another offspring of the Cyrene Project. And before you accuse me of some kind of conspiracy, I didn't know who he was. Not until two days ago. I'd lost contact with Troy's mother and had no idea where he was. I certainly had no idea he was working for Macy."
"Keep going." Rick made a circular motion with his hand when the doctor paused.
"I got suspicious of Troy when Macy started having headaches and problems with her memory. I decided to have him investigated in case he was doing something to harm her. That's when I learned who he really is."
Natalie only wished she'd noticed her mother's problems sooner and had had Troy investigated herself. There was something totally unnerving about the man's connection to the Cyrene Project and now his involvement with Macy. Natalie made a mental note to fire Troy and get a restraining order to keep him away from anyone in her family—especially her mother—and from Rick.
"Did you happen to ask Troy why he's working for my mother?" she asked.
"I did. He claims he wanted to learn more about the Cyrene Project and that his parents refused to discuss it with him. He said when he went to Macy that she felt sorry for him and offered him a job. That was about two months ago."
Natalie did a quick memory search—had her mother's problems started about that time? She didn't know, but she intended to find out. And by God, Troy had better not be in her path if he was responsible for her mother's rapid decline in health. If he was, Natalie was going after him. Judging from Rick's fierce expression, however, she'd have to wait in line.
"I'll deal with Troy," Rick muttered and then stared at the doctor. "And you think Troy could have had something to do with drugging us?"
"Absolutely. That's why I told Macy to get rid of him. She wouldn't listen to reason. She wouldn't believe that Troy is a threat."
That one word stopped Natalie cold. "What kind of threat?"
"To you, of course," the doctor said without hesitation.
That brought Natalie to her feet. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "I mean that Troy and I have discussed this as recently as yesterday. He's a very troubled man, and he blames all of his problems on the Cyrene Project. He'd like to erase its existence. And I can say with certainty that he believes both of you would be better off dead."
Chapter Eight
Rick tried to process everything he'd just heard. He could understand Dr. Benjamin implicating his former partner, Isabella Henderson. However, it was more than a surprise to hear that Troy might have had some part in this.
Or had he?
Even if Troy was opposed to the Cyrene Project, would the man really have tried to kill them?
Several days ago, Rick would have never believed it, but he didn't know what to believe now.
Man, there was a lot coming at Natalie and him. After hearing what Dr. Benjamin had to say, they obviously needed to question Troy and Dr. Isabella Henderson. They also had missing lab results to deal with. Oh, and they had to come to terms with the fact they were going to be parents in about eight months. Rick considered himself a hands-on, do-it-yourself kind of person, but it was obvious this wasn't something that Natalie or he could or should do alone.
This needed to be turned over to the police.
Rick looked at Natalie. "Dr. Benjamin could be lying to save his own butt," he reminded her.
She nodded, but there was no certainty in it. Natalie was shaken. For good reason, too. Her mother's personal assistant was lik
ely a wacko. Or worse—a potential killer.
Troy might not have been the driver in that SUV, but if he were deranged, he could have hired someone to play dangerous games.
Of course, that wasn't Rick's primary theory. He'd meant that part about Dr. Benjamin lying, and the doctor was still his number-one suspect.
Rick stood and took Natalie's hand so that she would do the same. She did. And she even leaned against him, though Rick wasn't sure she realized what she was doing.
He was ready to deliver some parting words to the doctor when he heard his phone beep. He glanced down at the screen and saw the text page from his uncle Carlton. The message was simple.
* * *
Meet me at your shop. It's important.
* * *
Great. His uncle rarely paged him. However, it was entirely possible that Macy or even Natalie's sister had called Carlton to let him know what was going on. That would lead to a conversation that Rick didn't have time for.
"Who paged you?" Natalie whispered, obviously noting his new concern.
"Uncle Carlton. I need to meet him at the shop."
And he would meet him. That important part meant it wasn't something Rick could avoid. However, it would have to be a quick detour because Rick really wanted to have a few words with Dr. Henderson and Troy.
So that he'd get Dr. Benjamin's attention, Rick aimed his index finger at the man. "Since you engineered my DNA, so to speak, you know what I'm capable of doing. And you know I'll figure out if you're behind this. If you are behind it, I'll make sure you regret it."
The doctor calmly leaned back in his chair. "I'm not intimidated by your threats."
Rick glared at him. "Well, if you're smart, you should be." He continued the glare until the doctor looked away.
Certain that he'd gotten his point across, Rick took Natalie out of there. Just having her and his baby in the same room as that monster made his stomach turn.
Rick didn't waste any time in what he had to say. "We should go to police headquarters and tell them everything we've learned," Rick told Natalie the moment they were out of Dr. Benjamin's office.
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