by Greg Dragon
Shocked, Wilbur said, “You can’t fire them for what Mary did. Cookie’s been here for over thirteen years. She’s the glue holding this place together.”
“Hiring and firing is my call. Mary’s family gave interviews to a local reporter. Mary told her sisters that Miss Harwood is possessed and the estate is haunted. We’ll need you to talk to the reporter, Jennifer Bone, this afternoon if you please.”
Wilbur shook his head. “Can’t do it, Doc. Mary had soul.”
“Mary Stinson was soused when she died. Her sisters claim low blood volume skewed the blood alcohol level. Unfortunately, their claim may be true. Your personal observations would rectify their lies. The estate can’t allow the missing college student’s story to resurface. It draws kooks.”
Overhead, noisy ducks flew past on their way south. “Missing students? The rumors are true?”
“Forget them,” Doc said. “Give the interview and I won’t fire the rest. Agreed?”
Wilbur nodded. He considered the live-in staff as his adopted family. “Sure, as long as you give them a good raise as well.”
They glared at each other.
“Son, they’ve gotten lazy.”
“Not true, sir. What if the reporter mentions the missing students?”
Doc sighed. “Don’t respond and don’t agree to take her on an attic tour. One of the sisters claimed Mary described weird noises coming from there and begged the reporter to investigate. What the hell? Did she mean rodents?”
He’d go anywhere for truth except the attic. Wilbur shrugged.
“Better be a good interview if I have to pay more,” Doc said. “Make sure you tie up her questions with a neat little bow. In other words, make me happy.”
“Yes, sir.”
Wilbur wiped the idea of searching the attic from his mind just like he erased the impulse of inviting the detective for a sleepover to listen for odd noises. Grandmother Pearl always warned, Don’t cozy up to the law. Now, he’d have to work this big lie into his life map. The map kept him goal-focused on becoming a success, as Grandmother Pearl wanted. If composing words like music continued to elude him, he would end up a total failure. He wasn’t prepared to let a comatose woman steal his words. He had to strike back.
Doc leaned over to check Miss Evaney’s eyes with a penlight. He shaded them with his arthritic fingers and observed how her pupils reacted to light then dark.
Wilbur thought Doc had the ugliest hands he had ever seen on a healer. Sports injuries, he guessed. The older man repeated his exam three times like he didn’t believe the first result. Her eyes began reacting to light soon after she gulped Mary’s blood.
“No changes in her physical, poor thing. Say, Burr, Mary’s sister suggested you lied to keep your job. Did you fib to protect Miss Harwood? Tell me the truth.”
Wilbur decided to test him. “She’s moving.”
Doc cackled. “Not a chance. Watch this.” He lifted Miss Evaney’s right leg to see if she resisted. Her thin extremities had shriveled up and tried to twist into contractions. Wilbur helped prevent deformities by performing range of motion exercises. He also fitted various devices on her limbs to maintain proper alignment. Not once had she ever resisted. Today, Evaney Harwood held her leg up for several seconds.
How could Doc not see improvement?
Surprise flitted over the old man’s face, and he ignored the results of his own test.
Wilbur wondered if Doc needed to be her concierge doctor as much as the live-in help needed their jobs.
“I’m glad she’s outside for fresh air. Cookie can have her room aired out.”
And line it with salt. “Yes, sir.”
“Anything odd been happening?”
You mean rustling noises like bats roosting in the attic, Evaney’s joints popping in and out, or an entire flock of birds falling dead from the sky on estate grounds? “No, sir.” Doc asked for the truth and then charted lies. The nurses wouldn’t cross him. That’s why non-live-in staff kept resigning. They were too scared.
Doc cracked his knuckles again and asked, “She’s not too heavy?”
“No, sir. She’s light as pillows.” His hand touched the key to Grandmother Pearl’s Saturn pinned inside his scrub top. If things flipped out of control again, he’d drive away.
“Good. Good.” Doc warmed up his hands by rubbing them together. “I’ve hired a new nurse for nights. Please make her feel welcome and show her around.”
“Yes, sir.”
The doc grinned. He slapped Wilbur’s shoulder like athletes do after a great catch. “Oh, her blood is low again. I’ll need another pint from you. Today good?”
Enough was enough. “Last time I got dizzy. I have another paper due.”
Doc frowned. “Son, you’re the lone male with O negative. The women bleed monthly and give me more crap than an enema. You want to keep them here, fine, but when Miss Harwood needs a transfusion you roll up your sleeve. Clear?”
“How many units did Mary donate?”
“We pay two hundred dollars for each unit. She never complained, nor have you.”
“I thought I was a volunteer. When did it become mandatory?”
“Why do you think you get free healthcare and feast in splendor?”
Wilbur swallowed. “I’ll be ready after lunch.”
“Good. Now, what’s this about worms in her stool?”
Evaney broke wind, sounding as a dying engine. Even with a diaper on the smell reeked.
“Guess you can see ’em for yourself, Doc,” Wilbur said, picking up his phone to call Lee. “They scare the hell outta me.”
Louis
A call from campus police woke Louis Janzen at six in the morning. That woman on the phone had been true to her word. In less than thirty-two hours, she’d arrived with lawyers and her own security team. They demanded immediate access to his lab and to him.
“Tell her I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Make them wait outside.”
He hung up and called Cindy Van Zant, his loyal secretary. She sounded wide awake, and in the background he heard her daughters yelling for attention. A single mother, Cindy lived with her parents, and commuted an hour each way. “Sorry to bother you, Cin. They’ve already arrived. Everything ready?”
Louis felt a trace of guilt at the way he used his secretary. To compensate, he made sure she was the highest paid in the Neurology Department. Cindy had agreed to clean his lab, so they wouldn’t find his microbe work or his relative’s brain.
“Hang on a sec.” He heard her ask the children to be quiet.
Cindy had taken one look at the microbe and said, “Gross.” She’d wrinkled her nose and added, “Ickies aren’t in your head, Louis.”
“You’re sure?” he had asked.
“You couldn’t be as sweet as you are with icks lodged in your gray matter.”
Her comment made him smile on the insides, but he didn’t react. He left her to do the rest.
Cindy came back on the line. “Sorry, Louis. Man, they’re serious, aren’t they? They won’t find anything. I even cleaned up your computer and passworded it. Oh, I cleared all your appointments, so your day is free. You gave me Thursday off in exchange for my lab rescue, remember?”
“I did? Oh, well, thanks for clearing my schedule. What did you find out about Flameion?”
“They’re a secretive corporation with their hands in every pie from drugs to vaccines and monitoring equipment. But they don’t advertise. They’ve done their best work on immune system research and treatments. Main office is in Atlanta, not far from CDC. Couldn’t find any negatives, but I’ll keep checking on Friday.”
“You think of everything. I’m sorry I pulled you from sleep and disrupted your home life. I called to get the details of everything you’ve done. Enjoy your down time.”
A long silence stretched out and his stomach got a strange, twisty feeling he hated.
“You were sleepy when I called to update you. Don’t worry, the lab is clean.”
He
bit his lip. AL was a serious ball-buster, slowly emasculating him by making him forgetful before his time. More than once he woke from steamy dreams with Cindy in the starring role, but that was his secret. “What would I do without you?”
A warm, sweet laugh erupted from her. “I’d like a promotion. Bye.”
Louis rolled out of bed, grateful his condo was close to campus. He sipped on Boost to avoid low blood sugar migraines. He had two research labs, one on campus and the other behind a nearby hospital. Somehow, Flameion knew he did his microbe work on campus, close to his home.
Parking spaces were open near the building entrance. He spotted Flameion’s team right away. The men were huddled up like buzzards on a carcass with one woman in their crew. She was a vision in a sea of dark-suited men. The petite blonde wore a neon pink neck scarf, leather skirt, and knee boots. She didn’t dress in the unitary business style he associated with the big pharmaceutical companies. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as he climbed out of the Volvo.
Louis grinned and called out, “Welcome to Charlottesville.”
Two campus police officers looked relieved to see him.
She came down the steps to greet him. “Louis?”
Her smile blinded and he nodded. He expected her to shake his hand, but instead she embraced him and planted a kiss on his cheek. Stunned, his mind burned through every possible memory and came up short.
Her mega-watt smile faded. “Oh, Christ. You don’t remember me, do you?”
“I can’t recall anyone’s name before I’ve had coffee,” he lied smoothly, hoping he would remember hers. “I could brew a pot in my office.”
Her starlet smile returned and she nodded. “Sounds good. We should talk first.”
He memorized details: good figure, great legs in killer knee boots, no wedding band, Carolina-blue eyes, and bow-shaped raspberry lips. But what is her name?
They walked up the steps together and a campus police officer unlocked the public doors. He smiled his thanks, and saw her motion the others following behind to wait. One officer accompanied them inside and turned on the interior hall lights.
She surprised Louis by taking his arm while waiting for the elevator. It arrived and took them to the fourth floor. Louis opened the door to his office suite and offered to take her jacket. Smiling, she slipped it off, and then the pink scarf. He noted the lacy white blouse and black leather pencil skirt hugging her slim hips. He hung both their jackets. Grinning like a fool, he went into the break room and started coffee. Who is she? The blonde made small talk until he finished.
They sat on the brown sofa in the general office while the coffee dripped.
She reached over and rubbed his cheek with the back of her hand.
Delicious shivers bubbled up his spine.
“We met at the AHA meeting in Orlando two years ago, smoked awful cigars, and got tipsy at the free bar. Later we danced until after midnight.”
I danced?
Nerves felt like firecrackers popping off. He decided to be honest. “I have the AL gene, and I’m having minor problems with my memory, mostly forgetting names and places.”
“I suspected something personal drove your relentless search for a cure. You were a machine and you even had an entourage. I’ve heard a few universities discriminated against professors with the Alzheimer’s gene. True?”
Louis felt the heat flush drain from his neck before he answered. “Not UVA. They’ve been decent to me considering my reputation as a wart.”
Her eyes sparkled before she laughed—it had a husky and intimate sound. “My name is Ava, Ava Allen.”
“Doctor Ava Allen?”
“Of course,” she said, and released a clip holding her hair in a French twist. Her hair spilled down her back in a mass of loose curls, reminding him of honeysuckle flowers. Ava took his breath away. Strangely, his head began to beat like his heart, and he smelled a heaven-sweet scent. He wished he’d chased her as hard as he went after a cure for AL. Louis chose his career over wife and family. It was his biggest regret.
Ava, Ava, Ava. He’d never forget her name again.
“Sorry, the clip hurt and gave me a headache.”
Tongue-tied, he didn’t answer.
She loosened his tie. “Always wondered why you didn’t come up to my room like you promised.”
Blindsided, Louis said, “I guess a colleague sidetracked me. My loss.”
“I cried.”
Her hesitant smile wounded him, and his thoughts shifted into a narcotized pace. What the hell happened? How could he not remember this angel? “I’m sorry I acted like a jerk.”
Ava slid closer until her thigh pressed against his. “I understand. We, dedicated researchers like you and me, have to turn off emotions and desires to get our work done. It’s a characteristic of driven people.”
“You’re not like me. You’re natural, like a skein of clouds in a tranquil sky.”
She grinned. “You’re such a flirt.”
He didn’t know what to say, but he couldn’t deny she had turned him on in an instant. How crazy was that given the bizarre circumstances of their meeting?
Her leg grew warm against his, and her perfume replaced the coffee scent in the room. She smelled like an exotic blending of orange citrus and narcissus. A scent he associated with sex—hot, thrilling sex. He remembered her and then his throat dried. Louis stood.
She stroked his hand. “You’ve changed, Louie.”
He had shared a lot with her, if she knew his family nickname. I’m going to get laid. The certainty excited him. How long had it been?
Her hand moved over his like a lover’s would. He was uncomfortable with having sex in his office, but his reluctance faded for the joy of being turned on. Sex wasn’t anything he intended to turn down—ever. Even if the sex took place in his office on the couch he shared in a suite with three other colleagues and two secretaries. Once AL had him fully in its vise grips his sexcapades would be ousted from his memories.
God, he was horny.
He chuckled and sat. “I expected to be tackled and arrested for violating property rights.”
“And here I am seducing you.” Her breath was sweet like fresh strawberries, or did the scent come from her lip gloss? Her hand dropped on his thigh and inched its way north. Don’t stop. His mind screamed in static approval as sex hormones saturated his blood. Please don’t stop.
Her hand lingered on his upper thigh. “As I’m sure you remember from earlier experiences at being close to discovering a cure, there isn’t much time for life’s little necessities, is there? I’ve been feeling deprived, very deprived. ”
His heartbeat sprinted. He knew he should brush her hand off his leg, but then his muscles went limp—except for one fine erection. Ava, Ava, Ava.
Her voice softened. “I’m certain you’ve hidden all traces of your discovery, so I’ve decided to enjoy myself on the company’s dime.” She smiled before leaning over to wash his lips with her tongue. Her kiss promised more.
Louis loved the way her lips curled first when she smiled and then the pleasure reached her pale blue eyes, making them sparkle. “You’re gorgeous.”
Her pale hands fumbled with his belt and unzipped his pants. Nimble fingers tugged on his pants until they slid down his legs. She straddled his lap and gazed into his eyes. Louis surprised himself when he ripped open her blouse. White buttons rolled to the floor. He released her bra and stared at her erect nipples. He licked them until she moaned.
Ava’s eyes closed and she whispered, “Maybe we should take care of business first.”
Is she kidding?
She freed his junk from bulging underwear. Her fingers grabbed hold—condom tight.
“Shoot.” He could barely speak while pushing up her tight skirt. His hands slid up her smooth inner thighs like they were greased.
“Come with me…and tour our lab,” she said, and then leaned over to probe his mouth with her sleek tongue. Seconds later, she added, “Examine my firm’s work an
d consider joining us as a consultant. I promise my lab will blow your mind.”
Caution lights clouded his vision, but what should he do? Her hand began to move up and down in a slow, familiar rhythm. Louis gasped. His pulse escalated in tandem with her hand.
“We can fly out today and be back before dinner. Private research has gone way past that supported by taxpayers. You owe it to yourself to examine the progress we’ve begun.”
His breath caught. To level the playing field, he slipped his finger inside her.
Ava threw back her head and moaned.
He jerked her thong down. “What if your lab doesn’t interest me?”
“I’ll fly you home and start the legal process.” Ava’s voice sounded strained.
He shifted his position and lifted her up with his hands. His penis slid inside her, and sudden heat flushed him. They both groaned. An Orlando memory came out of the haze in his head. She had gone down on him at the crowded bar surrounded by their colleagues and no one noticed. A fantasy first for him. Then she pulled him down the hallway into a tiny alcove. They had sex and returned to the party before it broke up at midnight.
“You’re coming with me, aren’t you?” she asked, panting.
“Oh yeah—no, I have responsibilities here.”
She bit his shoulder as her body picked up tempo.
He shut his eyes, enjoying the building pleasure.
Ava pushed her breasts into his face. “Your father spent a sabbatical year with Flameion. Get to know him by studying his research.”
He almost lost his erection, but Ava knew how to react. “Louis, come with me.” Her voice faded into a groan. Ava concentrated on her own pleasure from then on, and Louis obliged. She arched her back and screamed his name.
Louis rolled her over into the cushions. He brought her back to orgasm and then enjoyed his. He’d always found his best clarity after sweaty sex. But this time, unlike Orlando, he didn’t take off to mull over his thoughts—this time he hung around for the after sex cuddle. He kissed her and said, “Tell me about my dad.”
Ava clung to him and said, “You sound like you don’t know him.”
