by JA Konrath
“How about Dr. Townsend and Dr. Fletcher?”
“What about them?”
“They weren't at the funeral.”
Rothchilde frowned. “Yes, I noticed that, too. I'll have Halloran check on them. I should probably put some men on you as well. If someone's trying to sabotage me, they may go for you next.”
Theena folded her arms.
“I can take care of myself.”
“Of course you can, dear. If the bad guy comes to your door, you can always fuck your way out of danger.”
She made a fist, intent on putting a permanent dent in his long pointed nose. But Bill was leaving the building. He'd changed into jeans and a new jacket, and was lugging an overnight bag.
Rothchilde blew her a kiss. “It's that fire in you that makes you so dynamite in the sack.”
Bill climbed into the back of the car, putting his suitcase on the seat next to him. “All set.”
Rothchilde didn't need directions to Theena's apartment, but she gave them anyway. Bill may have suspected Rothchilde, but he gave no signs that he suspected her. She wanted to keep it that way.
They drove in silence. Theena harbored so many doubts that sorting them out was difficult. She had originally aligned herself with Rothchilde because they shared a common goal. Whomever sponsored N-Som needed to have deep pockets and major clout. Theena was a large part of the reason that American Products acquired DruTech. She'd slept with him at her father's request.
But sex and murder were two entirely different things.
Theena knew men, what they wanted, and how to control them. She thought she had Albert wrapped around her finger. Now she wasn't so sure. And the stakes had gotten higher than simply getting NSom approved.
Theena thought about Townsend, and O'Neil, and Julia and Red. She'd been working with these people for years. They were her family. Now Townsend and Red were missing, Manny had been attacked twice, and her father was dead.
Could she be next?
Theena furrowed her brow, trying to come up with a solution. Rothchilde owned the police. He had friends in both the state and federal government. He was in bed with organized crime. If Rothchilde wanted them all dead, who could she go to?
Don't panic, she told herself. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe it would all work out for the best.
She knew it was a lie, but she clung to it anyway.
It was all she had.
Chapter 18
Carlos was holding a napkin to his swollen lip when the car phone rang. He had a pretty good idea who it was.
“Yeah?”
“You were supposed to scare them, not shoot them.”
Carlos spat some blood out the window. He pretended it was in Rothchilde's face.
“The prick sucker punched me.”
“I thought Gino told you to follow my orders exactly. Shall I tell your boss you're having a listening problem?”
What was with this guy? They were doing him a favor. He could show a little respect. These big business types felt like the whole world should bow at their feet.
“No, Mr. Rothchilde.”
“I'm glad we understand each other. I just dropped them off at Theena's place. The situation has changed. I want them out of the picture.”
“Out of the picture?”
“Theena and Dr. May have worn out their usefulness to this organization.”
Carlos shook his head. At the first little bump in the road, Rothchilde wanted to whack everybody. And saying this on an open line, yet. Gino must have been making a real mint off of this idiot to keep him around.
“That's not a smart idea, Mr. Rothchilde. Two FDA agents dead, both on the same case, plus her father and her.”
“We had nothing to do with her father.”
“So? Cops will still look.”
“Let me handle the cops. You just clean out your wop ears and do what you're told.”
“I'm Cuban.”
Rothchilde went off on a yelling jag, and Carlos hung up. He looked at Franco, who was clutching an ice pack between his legs.
“He wants us to take out the Doc and the girl.”
Franco smiled.
“Good. I'll enjoy snuffing that guy. And the girl will make a yummy dessert.”
Carlos frowned. He didn't like the way any of this was going. He decided to call Gino.
“Whaddaya want?”
“Gino, it's Carlos.”
“No shit. You see that big bright display on your phone? It's called Caller fucking ID.”
No respect. Didn't anyone see the movie Scarface? Now Pacino, he had respect. Maybe it was just this generation. Carlos had worked for Gino's father, years ago. That man respected everyone who worked for him, and he got that respect back. Carlos would have taken a bullet for him. He wouldn't take a mosquito bite for Gino.
“He wants us to take the doc and the girl out.”
“Jesus. That guy. Okay, you do it, make sure it don't get back to me. I don't want it to look like a hit. Maybe a robbery. Or some crazy killer Charlie Manson thing. Messy. Franco is good at that psycho shit.”
Carlos sighed. It kept getting better and better.
“You got it, boss.”
Gino hung up.
“We gonna do it?” Franco was practically drooling.
“Yeah. We have to make it look messy.”
“I like messy. We need to stop at the store for supplies.”
Carlos kept a box of disposable latex gloves in the trunk. He also had duct tape, carving knives, and some butcher's aprons, along with his disguise. The tools of the wet trade.
“We're set.”
“You got rubbers, too?”
“Rubbers?”
“Make it messy, right?”
“Jesus, Franco.”
Maybe it was this generation. Carlos suspected MTV had a lot to do with it.
“Stop at that place on Damon. They sell the extra large kind.”
Carlos pointed the car east.
Chapter 19
Theena's apartment didn't match her personality. It was plain, with little frill or flourish. There were no photos of friends or family anywhere, and the bland painting hanging over the sofa looked like it came with the frame, probably purchased because the color scheme matched the sofa and love seat.
Neat, tidy, impersonal. Sort of like a motel, Bill thought. The only distinctive object in eyeshot was a potted cactus next to the front door, jutting out of its terra cotta pot like a two foot, green exclamation point.
“Are you hungry?”
“Tired, mostly.”
They'd spent the previous night in Manny's room, and hadn't slept
much. Bill could say without question it was the best day he'd had in over a year. It was more than just the sex. He felt connected. For a few wonderful hours, Theena had taken away his guilt and loneliness, and given him back a shred of self-worth.
But the woman Bill had been with yesterday was nowhere to be found at the moment. Today's Theena was withdrawn, distant, defeated.
“The bedroom is the second door, there.”
Bill yawned. He needed a nap, but there was a lot he had to do. The N-Som folder he'd taken from Bitner's house was in his overnight bag. Among other things, Bill was anxious to see how the experiment with Sam the monkey ended.
But it was more than that. Bill didn't want to sleep because he was afraid Carlos and Franco might find him. He couldn't be caught unaware.
“I'm okay, thanks.”
“You look exhausted.”
“I am. But I don't think sleep is a good idea right now.” He wanted to share his doubts about Rothchilde with Theena. Bill
had a solid feeling that the A.P. President was behind those two thugs, Franco and Carlos. He also believed that Rothchilde had some kind of pull with the Chicago PD, which is why Bill hadn't gotten any help.
But something held Bill back. Even with all he'd shared with Theena, there was still something he didn't completely trust about her.
Or maybe the lack of sleep was just making him paranoid.
“I have some N-Som.”
“Hmm?”
“You could take a pill. Then you don't have to sleep.”
“No thanks, Theena.”
Theena came over to him, serious.
“Bill, I've been working with this drug for almost a decade. It's safer than taking Vitamin C.”
Bill didn't answer. Any courage he might have harbored concerning unproven drugs died with his wife.
“Look.” Theena dug into her purse and took out a pill bottle. “You've read up on the chemistry, right? There's nothing toxic in here, Bill. They're neurotransmitters. The body manufactures these naturally. It's an acetylcholinesterase inhibitor, which activates the aminergic drive.”
“I know what it's supposed to do. But is that all it does?”
“Manny's been awake for over a thousand hours. He's fine.” “Are you sure of that?”
“This is how sure I am.”
Theena popped the top off the bottle and placed a pill in her mouth, swallowing it dry.
“It takes about four minutes to be absorbed into the bloodstream—the drug has an amino acid chelate so it immediately passes through the ion channel. Then it produces a reaction similar to narcolepsy. But it isn't really sleep because the brain stays in alpha.”
Theena sat down on the sofa and stretched out her legs.
“The effect lasts anywhere from ten to twenty minutes, and then you snap immediately out of it and you're completely awake and aware.”
“No residual effect?”
“None. The brain counteracts the drug with an increased production of norepinepherine. You wake up refreshed.”
Bill was intrigued.
“If it inhibits sleep, why do you have a narcoleptic episode for twenty minutes? Shouldn't it simply keep you awake?”
“N-Som doesn't inhibit sleep. It replaces it. The same neurotransmitters that are responsible for waking are responsible for sleeping. N-Som affects the sleep center first, causing a state we call hyper-relaxation. The brain automatically releases its own neurotransmitters to counter the effect. The result is twenty-three hours of ZFS.”
“Zero Fatigue Syndrome. Manny mentioned it.”
Theena laid back on the sofa and closed her eyes.
“I may toss and turn a little. It's possible to rouse a person in hyper-relaxation, but not easy—it's like trying to wake up someone in deep sleep.”
“Will you dream?”
Theena nodded. “Extremely realistic dreams. You'll almost swear they're really happening. Even though they only last a few minutes, several hours can seem to go by in your head.”
“Well, then. Sweet dreams.”
Theena nodded. After a minute, her breathing began to slow down.
Bill sat down next to her and took her pulse. Her heart beat twenty times in fifteen seconds. That was average. He waited and tried again. It had slowed to sixteen. A minute later it went down to thirteen, and stabilized.
He opened an eyelid, and the eyeball was moving back and forth. REM. She was focusing on some unseen object. He reached for the table lamp and moved it closer, but the pupil didn't dilate.
“Theena? Can you hear me?”
Bill gave her a light shake and a tap on the cheek. She didn't respond. Her skin was noticeably cooler to the touch.
If Bill hadn't read any of the N-Som reports, he might have thought she was going into shock rather than reacting to the drug in a predicted manner.
He waited by her side for the next ten minutes, holding her hand. It brought back images of Kristen, sitting next to her hospital bed as she slept. The memory hurt, but not as much as it used to.
Perhaps he was beginning to heal after all.
Theena's hand slowly became warmer, and her breathing quickened. She opened her eyes a moment later, her face cracking in a smile.
“I was surrounded by loved ones, warm and happy. It was beautiful.”
Bill couldn't deny she looked one hundred percent better. The dark bags and redness were gone from her eyes. Her face was brighter. She seemed like a new person.
“Want to try it?”
“I'm still not sure.”
Tina touched his lips with her fingertip. The moodiness was completely gone, and she was back to playful and flirtatious.
“I bet you were one of those kids in college who never tried pot.”
“Wrong. I had a roommate who grew the stuff in our dorm closet. He had a pair of four foot female plants, called them Laverne and Shirley.”
“So what's stopping you?”
“I already told you.”
“Bill, if you can't trust your own judgment, why do you stay with the FDA?”
Damn good question.
Bill sighed, relenting.
“Fine. I'll try it.”
“One thing. I just had a pleasant dream. But some of the dreams in hyper-relaxation aren't pleasant. I'd say the ratio is something like ten to one. It has something to do with the refining process, we're not entirely sure yet.”
“So I might have a nightmare?”
Theena nodded.
“Nightmares and I are old buddies. I can handle nightmares.”
Theena handed over the pill. It was oval and the color of caramel, covered with tiny brown flecks. Like a miniature robin's egg.
Bill swallowed it without water.
“Would you like the sofa, or the bedroom?”
“The sofa is fine.”
He traded places with Theena, reclining as she had. There was a tickle in his throat. He hoped this wasn't a mistake. He hoped nothing would go wrong.
Bill closed his eyes, and felt the beginning stirrings of panic.
“It's okay.” Theena put her hands on his. “Nothing to be nervous about. You'll have a quick dream, and be back to full capacity in fifteen minutes. You trust me, right?”
I want to, Bill thought. But I don't know if I can.
Then everything went black.
Chapter 20
Carlos and Franco circled Theena's apartment building twice before finding a parking spot.
“I'm outta change. Pay the meter.”
Franco giggled. “We come here to waste some people, you're worried about a traffic fine.”
Carlos sighed, the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“You ever hear of the Son of Sam?”
“I saw the movie. Mass murderer guy.”
“Where is he now?”
“In jail.”
“You know why he's in jail? The cops traced his parking tickets to the scenes of his crimes.”
Franco paid the meter.
Carlos checked the street for bystanders, then popped the trunk. In a gym bag, next to the murder kit, was a baseball cap and matching jacket, both with a Fed Ex logo. Carlos put them on and picked up a medium sized Fed Ex box and an electronic clipboard. The gizmo was key to the disguise. Only the real deal would have an expensive gadget like this, with an LCD screen that recorded your signature.
“I'll call when I'm in, be ready.”
Franco was picking his teeth with his thumbnail. If he'd heard Carlos, he didn't acknowledge it.
Carlos walked to Theena's building, package under his arm, putting himself in the role. The key to any deception was believing it yourself. He was an employee for an overnight delivery service. This was his tenth delivery of the day, and he only had three more before quitting time. Before he pressed Theena's buzzer, he took the time to fill out the blank receipt taped to the package.
Then it was show time.
“Yes?”
“Federal Express delivery, for Dr. Theena Boone.”
“Who is it from?”
“Albert Rothchilde, American Products.”
Carlos took a step away from the door. If she were able to see him from her window, she'd see a Fed Ex guy.
Sure enough, she buzzed him in.
Carlos took the elevator to the fifth floor. He turned on the electronic c
lipboard, and the screen glowed faintly. His gun was in his belt, under the jacket. Carlos rehearsed his lines before approaching her door.
Knock knock. “Fed Ex.”
He tried to look bored while she gave him the once over through the peephole. When the door opened, it was only a few inches. The safety chain was on.
“Dr. Theena Boone?”
She nodded. Carlos showed her the box. The Fed Ex box was too big to fit through the crack in the door. If she wanted her package, she'd have to open up.
“I need your signature, here.”
He held out the clipboard, making no attempt to slip it through the door.
“Just a second.”
The door closed, and he heard the chain come off.
Carlos had his gun in hand when the door reopened. He shoved it under her chin hard enough to make her teeth click.
“In the apartment, move.”
She stepped back, her face awash in surprise. Carlos took a quick look around. The doc was on the couch, snoring.
Carlos pulled Theena close, one arm around her neck. He reached back into the hallway for the dropped box, and closed the door behind him. Then he fished out his cell phone and hit the speed dial.
“I'm in.”
Chapter 21
When he opened his eyes, Franco and Carlos were standing over him.
“Good morning, Doc.”
A large hand grabbed him by the shirt.
“This is what happens when you don't play along.”
Fear coursed through him, so hot and deep it was just as palpable as the blood in his veins. He was off balance, and summarily dragged away in a half stumble, half crawl.
A gun was pressed to his head. It felt huge. He watched, unable to move, barely capable of drawing a breath, while Carlos pulled on a ski mask.
There was a camcorder resting on a nearby box.
They were going to videotape his death.
He looked around the room for a weapon. There was nothing suitable. Do something, he screamed in his mind. Don't die without a fight.
He made a fist and swung, a big loping blow aimed at Franco's chin. The large man twisted, catching the punch on his shoulder. He giggled, high pitched and horrible, and then hit back.
The hitting went on. And on.
