Bad move. Blind curve.
Imagining another car coming at him around the rocky outcropping just ahead, he whipped the wheel to the right, fought to keep from overshooting in the other direction, and finally brought the car to a controlled stop on the shoulder.
Nerves sizzling, he popped his seat belt loose and threw his door open. Picturing the gun pointed at his head, he rolled to the left. He was halfway out of the car when he heard a soft feminine voice, say, “Wait . . . where are you going?”
That stopped him. He straightened up and looked to see who had spoken.
The backrest of the rear seat had been pushed forward. Someone in a hooded blue rain slicker was climbing onto it from the trunk. He checked each hand of the moving figure. No gun. Then what . . . ?
Of course . . . the cocking sound he’d heard must have just been the seat latch being released. The stowaway stroked the hood away from her face, revealing a young woman with long strawberry blond hair and the most intensely colored hazel eyes he’d ever seen.
“Guess I owe you an explanation,” she said, shifting from her hands and knees to where she could sit on the folded seat back.
Carl’s feeling of relief that she wasn’t an assassin changed to anger at how she’d surprised him. “Yeah, I’d say I deserve one,” he replied, the vein in his forehead standing out like a rope. “considering you just about got us both killed.”
“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m Beth Corbin. I live back there in Artisan. I was hoping to get a ride with you into the city.”
“You couldn’t just ask?”
Face wrinkling, she shook her head. “Not really. No.”
“Why the devil not?”
“I didn’t want anyone to see us talking or see me in the car. And it would have taken too long to explain why.”
Carl reached out and pulled his door shut. He turned in his seat so he could see her over his right shoulder. “Explain it now.”
She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then said, “Maybe you could tell . . . everyone’s life back there in Artisan is centered around the church. Our pastor, Father Hanson, teaches that the outside world is evil and dangerous, and for our own physical and spiritual well-being, we should avoid contact with outsiders. I don’t doubt what he says, but I need to see for myself what it’s like before . . .” She hesitated, her expression suggesting she’d said more than she’d intended. “I just need to widen my perspective through personal experience. I can only do that in the city.”
“And you were afraid your friends would disapprove?”
“Something like that. So will you take me with you?”
She was leaving everything familiar and comfortable to enter a new world. No one knew how that felt better than Carl. Her courage melted his anger. “I don’t see why not. But you can’t ride like that all the way. Come and sit in the front.”
Eyes suddenly clouded with suspicion, she hesitated.
“I’m not going to attack you,” Carl said. “I’m a doctor.”
“Are all doctors trustworthy?”
“Unfortunately, no. But I assure you I’ve never intentionally harmed anyone.”
“Why did you qualify your answer by saying intentionally?”
Carl flashed on the young mother in his care who’d died after receiving a unit of bacterially contaminated blood. “I don’t know you well enough to discuss that.”
She sat for a moment chewing her lip, then said, “I trusted you enough to get in your car, so I guess I’ve already decided which kind of doctor you are.” She crawled part way back into the trunk and got the small overnight bag she’d brought. Then she climbed over to the passenger side and reached for the door handle.
“Careful when you get out,” Carl warned. “There’s not a lot of room on the shoulder.”
Taking a moment to put the rear seat back in order, she negotiated the transfer to the front without sliding into the ravine. Rather than put her bag on the floor when she was settled, she kept it in her lap, her hands laced securely over it.
Then they were once again on their way.
“Where were you going when you were getting out of the car?” she asked.
“I thought you were someone with a gun.”
“Why’d you think that?”
“Active imagination. It’s usually one of my better features.”
“You never told me your name.”
“I’m Carl Martin.”
“We don’t get many visitors in Artisan. What brought you here?”
“I came to speak with Dr. Meggs about Benjamin Rasco.”
She shook her head. “That was terrible what happened.”
“Did you know him?”
“Everyone in Artisan knows everyone else. What did you want to talk to Meggs about?”
“When Benjamin was hurt in the city, the hospital took a blood sample from him. Looking at it under a microscope, we found that he had very unusual red cells. I’ve never seen anything like it. So I wanted to follow up and see what I could learn about Benjamin, whether those odd red cells reflected any kind of underlying health problem.”
“What did Meggs say?”
“That he was in good health.”
Beth Corbin was so attractive that whenever the road gave Carl the slightest opportunity, he glanced at her. He’d been looking at her when he told her what Meggs said. It seemed to him she wanted to respond, but hadn’t. That was twice in the few minutes he’d known her she appeared to censor herself.
“The few people I’ve seen in Artisan certainly appear extremely healthy,” Carl said. “But Meggs told me that Benjamin’s wife died a year ago. Do you know the circumstances?”
“Not really.”
“Had she been ill?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Was it an accident of some sort?”
“No.”
“So one day, she just died.”
“It happens.”
“Is Meggs a good doctor do you think?”
“I guess.”
The conversation had taken on a chilly tone. So Carl decided to change the subject. “Do you know the details of what happened to Benjamin in the city?”
“Some of it. In his eulogy—”
“Eulogy for Benjamin?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve already had the funeral?”
“This morning. Why?”
“It just seems so quick. I’m sorry, you were saying.”
“Father Hanson used Benjamin’s mugging as proof that what he’s been telling us all these years is true. The city is dangerous.”
“Yet you still want to see it?”
“I’m not afraid to die. Are you?”
“All I can tell you is a few minutes ago, I sure didn’t want to go down that ravine.”
“So you must have a lot to live for.”
“Never thought about it.”
“People who would miss you . . .”
Carl shrugged. “Offhand I can think of one . . . my mother.”
“No one else?”
“I’d like to believe my death would ruin at least a few minutes of my ex-wife’s day, but I’m not so sure.”
“Why aren’t you still together?”
He’d only known this woman for a few minutes, far too short a time to let her into the private parts of his life, especially since she seemed to be keeping some of her own thoughts off-limits. But there was something about her that made him reluctant to erect fences in return. “I left a high income job for one that pays about a third of what I was making.”
“Why?”
This was pushing him too far. “I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Okay. But your wife . . . she divorced you
because you were no longer making a lot of money, is that right?”
“Doesn’t seem right to me.”
“I meant, is that correct, but I agree, if that’s the only reason she left, she’s not a good woman.”
Wanting to move the conversation away from himself, Carl said, “Even if you managed to get out of town unseen, won’t you be missed?”
“Not for a while. I’m the only employee at the library. Until the church supper tonight, no one will know I’m gone.”
Carl had noticed she wore no wedding ring. But maybe in Artisan married couples didn’t observe that custom. “There’s no husband to miss you sooner?”
“He died two years ago.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think of that again.”
“It’s all right. You couldn’t have known.”
“Are your parents in Artisan?”
“They were. When I was seventeen, we had a bad flu epidemic. It took most all the older residents, including my parents. If it hadn’t been for the church holding things together, I don’t know what we would have done.”
“Was Meggs there then?”
“No, he came after the flu took our previous doctor.”
“What about Father Hanson?”
“He’s newer, only been there about five years. After the flu killed Father Gilbert, we had Father Sealy, then he was replaced by Father Hanson.”
“I guess Artisan isn’t such a healthy place after all.”
WITH THE WET roads and a short break for lunch at a burger and ice cream stand, the trip back to Little Rock took about ninety minutes. Just inside the interstate bypass, the rain picked up in intensity.
“Where did you want to go?” Carl asked Beth.
“To a hotel, I guess. I don’t have a lot of money. Could you recommend one that’s nice and doesn’t cost much?”
“There’s a Hampton Inn near where I live. It’s not the cheapest place in town, but it’s clean and safe and you get a free continental breakfast that’s actually pretty extensive. The food alone is worth seven or eight dollars.”
“I’ll go there.”
“What will you do then? I mean tomorrow?”
“Explore the city. What do you think I should see?”
“Well . . . there’s the zoo and the art museum. The museum has a great collection of Egyptian artifacts. And . . .”
During the drive back, Carl had come to feel like an explorer returning from an uncharted, hostile land bearing a great treasure he’d wrested from the natives. So, even though there was a lot of work to do at the lab, he found himself saying, “Tell you what . . . Why don’t I pick you up tomorrow and personally show you around.”
Beth looked at him, her gorgeous eyes wide and deep. “Why would you do that?”
“I’m just a great guy.”
Beth cocked her head and looked at him with a puzzled expression. “That wasn’t bragging . . . more like a joke, right?”
“Right.”
“Is that the way everyone in the city talks?”
“No, I’m a special case.”
For the first time Beth smiled. The effect was devastating, dispelling the gloom of the day like a klieg light.
“You did it again,” she said. “It’s fun isn’t it?” Her smile went away and she studied Carl’s face as though there’d be a test on it later. In two seconds, the evaluation mode reflected in her eyes evaporated. “I’d love for you to show me the city.”
At the motel, Carl went inside with her and helped her register. Then he had another idea. “It’s not right for you to be alone on your first night here. Let me take you to dinner later.”
“You’re going to an awful lot of trouble for me.”
“Not at all. I usually eat out anyway. It’ll be good to have company for a change. So you’d be doing me a favor.”
“All right. But I didn’t bring any really nice clothes.”
“I wasn’t talking about the kind of place where that matters.”
“Then I don’t see any problem with your offer.”
They parted in the lobby, agreeing that Carl would pick her up at seven.
With a few hours of the workday left, Carl headed back to the lab. It had been a long drive to Artisan, and he hadn’t accomplished anything. Then, having formed that conclusion, he questioned it. True, he hadn’t learned anything useful about Benjamin Rasco, but he had met Beth Corbin.
Thinking about her, he wondered what the hell he was doing. Progress at the lab was going so well, yet he had just volunteered to skip a day of work to spend it with a woman he barely knew. Look what kind of grief the last woman in his life had caused him.
Relax, he told himself. Beth Corbin is not Carol. You’re just having dinner and a day of sightseeing. This is not going to cause you any trouble.
Chapter 4
“I CAN’T BELIEVE it,” Frank Irby, CEO of Arkansas Pharmaceuticals said, clearly shocked by what Carl had just told him. “Forty percent of their blood replaced with a synthetic substitute?”
“After all the failures we’ve had, I’m as surprised as you are,” Carl said, looking fondly at the two white rats moving normally around their cage. “Blood pressure, blood oxygen content, heart rate . . . all on the money in both animals.”
“That’s damned marvelous.”
“Well . . . we shouldn’t get too carried away. Still plenty of time for things to go south.”
Balding, but trim and tanned, Irby was more than just Carl’s boss. He’d been Uncle Frank as long as Carl could remember. They weren’t actually related. It was an honorary title arising from Irby’s close friendship with Carl’s father.
“You gotta learn to relax,” Carl’s lab tech, Marge Preston, said to Carl. “They’re fine now and they’re gonna stay that way.”
“Hope you’re right,” Carl said. He looked at Irby. “She usually is.” He turned and motioned for Irby to follow. “Let’s go in back where we can be comfortable.” On the move, he glanced over his shoulder at Marge. “If those animals want to see a movie or anything, take care of it will you?”
Marge pointed her finger at Carl. “Don’t you two talk about me while you’re gone.”
Reaching a small office in the rear of the lab, the two men went inside, and Carl shut the door. He pulled a rolling chair from under a bench holding a computer and pushed it toward Irby. “Have a seat. After all, you paid for it.” Ignoring the leather-clad model behind his small desk, Carl stole another rolling chair from in front of a big microscope. He guided it around to where he and Irby could talk.
“Why are you still using this office?” Irby asked. “Your father’s is much bigger and nicer.”
Carl shrugged. “I dunno. Just doesn’t feel right. I do use his books from time to time though.”
“I know what you mean about the office,” Irby said, nodding. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m just so accustomed to maximizing the company’s resources, that’s my first reaction to everything.”
“Forget it. So, what’s up? Social or an official visit?”
“Both. I just wanted to come down and tell you how much the board and I appreciate the way you’ve taken control of things.”
Carl shrugged. “Mostly, I’m just pursuing directions my father developed.”
“You’re being too modest. Before the accident, he told me that the insights you were bringing to the project were brilliant.”
“Guess I helped a little.”
“It’s no secret I was thrilled when you decided to join us after you closed your practice. There’s been a Martin at Arkansas Pharm for over thirty years. I’m hoping you’ll make it another thirty.”
“We’ll see.”
A look of concern crept across Irby’s face. “Are you unhappy here?
”
“Not at all. I just have a hard time imagining myself doing anything for thirty years.”
“I hear you. When I first came, I had no idea I’d be around as long as I have. You focus on your work, try to build something, have a little fun along the way, next thing you know, most of your life is gone.”
Irby’s remarks made Carl wistful. “Frank, I miss him.”
“So do I. If only I’d been nearby when it happened. I might have been able to do something.”
“What could you have done? It was just a freak accident. A goddamn bizarre set of circumstances that just happened to take the life of a good man.”
Irby dropped his gaze to the floor. He took a deep breath, held it a moment, then exhaled heavily. “I wish I’d never organized that damned hunting trip.” He looked Carl in the eyes. “But that was the last one we’ll ever sponsor. I told your mother the same thing. Not that she found any consolation in it. Heard anything from her since she left?”
He was referring to the three-month world excursion Carl’s mother had embarked on with her sister a few weeks earlier to help her get past what had happened.
“Got a card from her three days ago. She was in Dar es Salaam . . . seemed to be enjoying the trip.”
“Where is that?”
“Tanzania, I think.”
Irby winced. “I worry about her going to places like that. Lot of danger out there.”
“Here, too.”
Carl’s meaning was clear to Irby and the two men sat quietly for a moment, thinking about the man they both loved, and how quickly lives can be ripped apart by unforeseen events.
Finally Irby said, “Well, I have to get to work.” He stood up.
Also standing, Carl said, “Yeah, me too.”
Irby opened the office door and went into the lab with Carl behind him. Before leaving, Irby turned and said, “As long as we keep him in our minds, he isn’t really gone.” He cuffed Carl affectionately on the shoulder, then crossed the lab and disappeared into the hall.
After Irby left, Carl stood for a moment thinking about staying at Arkansas Pharm for thirty years. He couldn’t picture it because, as well as work in the lab was now going and as exciting as it was at times to see the results come in, he didn’t feel this was where he was ultimately meant to be. But that wasn’t new. For as long as he could remember, he’d felt like a gatecrasher in his own life.
The Blood Betrayal Page 3
