Anna-Beth watched me a moment as if trying to decide whether or not she wanted to proceed. “We’re born with a genetic code that dictates what eye color we’ll express. Eye color is a function of different genes, not just one or two. Each gene evolves proteins in the specific proportions necessary for the expression of that specific phenotype.” She lifted two fingers, one at time, for what she said next. “Eye shape and color,” she added then dropped her hand. “A baby’s eye color can change as he or she develops. It’s kind of like the body switching on certain genes that influence eye color to retain more pigment. That’s why the color becomes darker, not lighter with development.”
Steven was nodding in concurrence.
“But can scientists alter the genes of an adult to change one’s physical appearance?” I asked.
She turned her palms up. “Current gene therapy enables us to suppress the immune system during transplant surgery and even program the body to adapt or learn to live with a new organ. This process is still quite risky but is performed successfully in transplant units all over this country—the world,” she said, then stopped to give me a solemn look. “If scientists can replicate what the body does naturally after birth with respect to eye color, they could, in theory, genetically insert the genes that signal a change in pigment and alter one’s genetic library to change color as desired.”
I lifted a skeptical brow. “So this group, the radical faction of the Iphiclesians, has taken the technology used in transplant surgery one step further to change their own eye color?” I asked, now wondering if maybe Anna-Beth was the one losing it. Surely, this group was using nothing more than contact lenses to mimic hetero-whatever-she-called-it.
“As it stands now, we,” she indicated herself and Steven, “don’t have the technology to successfully change a person’s DNA makeup to reflect a different expressed phenotype, but we’re making progress and when we can, we’ll know better how to find those who already seem to have achieved the impossible.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Could it be that all of these unexplained happenings were somehow connected to a secret group that was surgically altering themselves to take the place of selected individuals in influential positions? And possibly even genetically modifying their eye color, and who knew what else, as a show of superiority and/or to identify each other?
Then I thought about Gentry and her position as Daniel’s wife, Daniel’s current legislative dilemmas, and how powerful he could be in the future if he was elected to the US senate. The presidency. “But I don’t understand. Why not simply replace the senator? Why his wife?”
“Who has more power and the ability to fade into the background?” Anna-Beth asked. “The senator? Or the person who’s opinion he trusts most?”
My brain was spinning. “Iphicles,” I began, “the force behind the hero, the brains behind the brawn, the one with the true power—the one person no one suspects. The person who’s practically invisible and thus invincible . . .”
Anna-Beth picked up where I trailed off. “Free to pull the strings of those charismatic enough, heroic enough, to be in the forefront, as he or she pleases. Essentially, the power and anonymity to start wars, topple governments, shift the balance of power and no one is the wiser.”
The objectives of this offshoot of the Iphiclesians began to line up before me like a winning hand being laid out on a poker table. I looked to Anna-Beth with saucered eyes. “Such a person, a group, can stop at nothing to get what they want because no one knows who they really are?”
“Reclaim one’s past, reclaim one’s destiny,” Anna-Beth echoed. “Take that philosophy one step too far and you’re left with—control one’s destiny at any cost.”
At any cost . . . ran a loop through my brain so quickly I was almost relieved that I was tied to a chair, or I may have lost my balance and fallen to the floor.
Chapter Twenty-one
My voice fell to a whisper. “Am I in danger?” I asked as another disturbing thought occurred to me.
What if all that Anna-Beth had been implying was true? How could she, my best friend, have stood back and allowed me to marry Daniel, to walk blindly right into this conspiracy, this evil? She had to have known that sooner or later my inquisitiveness would get the better of me and I’d go poking about.
I gave her a guarded look. “How long have you been a part of this agency?” I asked, to which her cold expression hardened to noncompliance. “Come on, I think you owe me some answers,” I urged. “After all these years of assuming you were my best friend . . .”
Anna-Beth gritted her teeth. “Undergrad. I’ve been with the FBI since they first questioned me about my own family’s involvement,” she growled. “And there’s no assuming. I still am, and always will be, your best friend.”
“So you’ve been investigating this group for more than a decade?” I said with a hint of sarcasm. “And you still haven’t caught them?”
“They’re a very difficult, and dangerous, group to infiltrate,” she came back, a touch of discord in her voice.
“That party you took me to in Nashville, the one where I met Finn back in college,” I said. “Was that a part of all this?”
“Yes,” she admitted, the faintest shadow of shame clouding her eyes. “The agency had traced a strong presence for this group back to Tennessee. Since I’m a Nashville native and kin to some of the key players, I was recruited. With my family connection, they figured I could easily blend into the right groups.”
“So, that’s why we were seated at Daniel’s table at the cadaver ball?” I said more as a statement than a question. I was still having trouble believing that all this time my best friend was living two completely different lives. And me, the inquisitive one, not once catching on.
“Yes,” Anna-Beth confirmed with a nod. “But never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that Daniel would go for you.” I shot her an affronted look. “No offense,” she added then proceeded to soften the blow. “He wasn’t exactly your type either. And that you’d go falling in love with him, much less agree to marry him, was even more unimaginable.”
I couldn’t argue that she had a point—Daniel and I were an unlikely pair. Still. “Why didn’t you do something to stop me?”
Anna-Beth tossed her hands into the air. “Oh, don’t even try and blame you being here on me,” she said like all that had happened was my fault. “I tried to warn you but you didn’t hear me. I warned you so many times.”
I blinked up at her in confusion. “When?”
“When? When didn’t I?” she said, exasperated. “Not directly of course, but didn’t every one of our conversations regarding you and Daniel include me admonishing you to take your time? At the wedding I told you about the rumors surrounding Gentry’s death, and then the missing autopsy, hoping,” she raised her hands to the ceiling, repeated, “hoping,” then dropped them back to her side, “that you would press Daniel for the truth so you would know what you were getting . . . had gotten . . . yourself into.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “But you just didn’t hear me.”
I thought about all of the conversations I’d had with Anna-Beth over the last year and how she’d cautioned me to take my time with Daniel. I’d assumed she was simply overreacting because of what had happened with Finn. “When I told you about seeing the Gentry-like woman, you didn’t warn me,” I said. “Why?”
Anna-Beth averted her eyes, giving me only a shrug.
And then her reasons dawned on me. “You needed to find her, didn’t you? And you used me as bait. That’s why you had boot-man over there following me.”
Anna-Beth rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, Marlie. If that woman had wanted to harm you, what would have kept her from doing so at the cemetary?”
Tears burned behind my eyes. “Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?” I accused. “That as long as no one has gotten hurt, it’s okay to just stand back and wait?”
Anna-Beth’s eyes pulled into an
gry slits. “Like anything I could have said would have made you give up Daniel?” she pointed out. “Plus, I couldn’t risk jeopardizing my cover.”
I glanced over at Steven’s impassive expression and back to Anna-Beth, my heartbeat rising with the realization that I was now a potential risk to them as well. “Untie me,” I said, feeling vulnerable again, along with a sense of betrayal that was morphing into panic.
Flitting a glance at Steven, she ignored my request. “What do you remember about your meeting with the woman at the cemetery?” she asked, and then leaned forward to capture my full attention. “What did she say to you?”
“She said that everyone was in danger and I couldn’t save them. I should try to fit in, to be like everyone else. If I did, she said, I would never have to see her again.”
Anna-Beth nodded. “That’s good advice,” she said then gave me a serious look. “And while you’re at it, try to remember what’s at stake here.”
My lip curled into a snarl. “You mean exposing your covert government agency?”
“Yes, and no.” Anna-Beth leveled me a stare. “I’m confident you’re going to keep this unfortunate encounter to yourself. So, do we understand each other?”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Marlie . . .”
“Who am I going to tell?” I chuckled to show that the idea was preposterous. “Like anyone would take me seriously anyway.”
Anna-Beth nodded to Steven. He pushed away from the wall, came up behind me and cut the ties binding my hands. I shook my arms, trying to facilitate blood flow, and then when I could lift my arms again, I pressed a palm to the knot swelling on my temple.
“I barely believe it myself,” I said.
“Good.” Anna-Beth crossed her arms over her chest. “And just so you know, none of this has been easy for me either. It’s been like watching you and Finn all over again, waiting for the worst to happen, and having no idea how to stop it.”
“Finn?” I gulped. “What about him? He was one of them, an Iphiclesian, wasn’t he?” I asked. “And don’t lie to me. I remember his ring.”
Anna-Beth swiped a strand of honey hair away from her face. “Yes,” she said with a hint of derision. “And when it comes to the kind of men you fall in love with, you’re nothing if not consistent.”
The thought that Finn might have been involved in this nightmare tightened like a fist around my heart. “What happened to him?” I asked. “Was the boat crash that killed him really an accident? Or did they kill him too?”
She brushed my question away with a wave of her hand. “All you need to know is that Finn’s gone—in the past—and he won’t ever be coming back,” she said, ending any further debate with a discussion-over look. “You have a wonderful husband who loves you and two boys who don’t deserve to lose another mother.”
“You don’t think I know that?”
“Whatever it is you think you’ve stumbled on to, you need to heed the advice of that woman in the cemetery and take a step back,” Anna-Beth said, her voice stinging my ears. “Do you have any idea what it takes to surgically change the human body to match someone else’s so perfectly that even one’s spouse can’t tell the difference?” She paused a beat, allowing the enormity of the process to sink in. “It takes planning and time, finding the perfect body type—size, shape—months of painful surgery. These people are serious about what they’re doing. They’re not a group to be trifled with,” she said, and for the first time since she’d removed the blindfold from my eyes, I saw a speck of the old Anna-Beth.
The friend who often knew me better than I knew myself.
“If I could pull you out right now without causing suspicion, without jeopardizing a decade of work, I would. But then the investigation would be blown and this group would still be out there, ruining lives and God only knows what else.” She pointed a finger at me. “The only reason I told you any of this is because you’ve got to be careful. Marlie, for once in your life, let something go. Let this go.”
For the first time since I’d begun my little investigation, I was scared, and not just for myself. I had a family now. “I don’t know—”
“We’re close, Marlie, really close,” she cut in. “Give us a little more time. I know it’s going to be hard for you, so how about I make you a deal?”
I swallowed against a parched throat. “Okay.”
Coming close enough to rest her hands on my shoulders, she offered, “How about you let me and my team take the investigation from here. I’ll keep you up to speed on what we find. You keep an eye out for anything else that seems . . . off. But if you find anything, you call me first.” She wagged a finger in front of my face. “No more going it on your own. And if that Gentry person, or any other, shows up again, whatever you do, don’t confront her.”
My life, my new family, could all slip away if I wasn’t careful. I thought back to what the cadaver had said, about me losing everything that was dear to me. A shadow of dread circled my heart. Chasing this mystery was like slicing off the head of a mystical dragon only to have two more grow back in its place. I was navigating a slippery slope that, sooner or later, could get the better of me. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, acting as if nothing had changed, but I had to try.
With a pleading look, I laid out my conditions. “Okay fine, I’ll step back and call you if that woman shows up again or I stumble upon something important. But you’d better keep me in the loop and warn me at the first sign of danger to my husband . . . my boys.” Tears moistened my cheeks. “Say you will.”
Anna-Beth leaned in and wiped away my tears. “Haven’t I always had your back?”
Chapter Twenty-two
Sunlight through glass panels beat warm and reassuring on my face. I lifted my chin to accept its soothing gift. On a warm afternoon like this, the sunroom was the perfect place to sit back, bask in solitude, and give myself a moment to think. But that multi-headed dragon rose up again to interrupt my rest, this time with a few additional heads.
If Gentry had been replicated to infiltrate Daniel’s life, then why wasn’t that woman here instead of me? And was Daniel a part of the unthinkable conspiracy Anna-Beth and her crew of clandestine agents claimed to be fighting? And what about Anna-Beth? Demure, charming, flighty, and yes, a wee bit shallow, today she’d turned out to be anything but. Who would she be the next time I saw her? Would I ever again be able to see her as my friend and ally? Squeezing my eyes closed, I tried to squelch the growing monster in my thoughts. Concentrating on steadying my breath, I held my eyes shut tight as long as I could before allowing my lids to slide open again.
Out on the lawn, Bridger and Bodie were dragging leaf rakes over the grass, making neat piles out of the clippings Herbert had shaved from the shrubs. Bridger worked with his head bent, focused on the task, his white t-shirt soaked through with sweat. Bodie had removed his shirt altogether and tucked it into the back of his low-slung shorts. His thin chest and arms glistened in the late afternoon heat, his cords of developing muscles pulled tight as he raked his portion of the work into his brother’s pile. Consequently, Bridger’s mound of leaves had grown to twice the size of Bodie’s, resulting in more clippings for Bridger to pick up when they were through raking. Very soon Bridger would notice, and a fight would ensue. Life as usual.
It’d been my idea to have them help Herbert in the yard. They’d groaned, and Cooper had professed the idea out-of-the-question. Cannon children were not to be seen publically (which apparently included their own back yard) engaging in manual labor. But Daniel had backed me up, and the boys accepted his decision without further question. They would never admit it, but I could tell by how they only halfheartedly complained on their hasty way out to the yard that they secretly looked forward to it. Knowing that they would be leaving for baseball camp in the morning was already making me feel lonely.
“I tink ez good what you doing with the boys.” Electra’s voice jolted me from my thoughts. I turned to see her standing next to a grouping of
wicker chairs. She set the cloth and bottles of oil she was holding down on the coffee table. “You no listen to what Miss Cooper say. Miss Gentry wood approve.” She knocked her hands together as if dispersing unseen dirt. “Boys need to use their muscles. It help them focus on something other than their crotch.”
My mouth fell open. “Electra!”
“What?” She jutted out her chin. “I no say nutting you don’t already know.” She pointed out the window. “Herbert take good care of ’em, teach ’em right. Yes?”
I followed her gaze to where Herbert was instructing the boys on their next task. Yes, there was something very calming yet capable and protective about him. I remembered Daniel telling me how Herbert didn’t seem to have any family. He’d simply shown up one day looking for work after Daniel and Gentry had taken over this house from Daniel’s parents. Now he was family.
“Yes, I think you’re right,” I agreed.
“Come, sit down,” Electra insisted. “I take care of that bruise.”
Turning away from the window, I followed her instructions and dropped down into a chair. I relaxed back onto the cushion and watched as she shook drops of oil from three different glass bottles onto a sterile white rag. The woody scent of cypress mixed with wintergreen and peppermint had me feeling reassured, and a little homesick.
“Electra, do you have family?” I asked, realizing for the first time that I knew very little about her.
“Si, you and Mister Cannon, the boys, ez mi familia.”
She pressed the compress to the lump on the side of my head. I winced away from the pain. But then the oils diffused through my skin bringing the cool gentle sting of natural antiseptic to the wound.
“I come to America with Miss Gentry mother and father. After they die, I stay to take care of her. Now, I watch out for you and them,” she said, nodding toward Bridger and Bodie on the other side of the window.
“That’s sweet, but I can take care of myself, there must be someone you—”
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