I fretted over Bill, but to be honest, the thought of another assault on the dungeon scared the crap out of me. There was no way I could blow my way out of a subbasement without bringing the entire plant crashing down on our heads.
But I could hope that, with Gloria gone and Paddy moving in, Acme would do the right thing. Maybe. Eventually. So I wouldn’t have to face the dragons in the dungeon.
Two of the baby docs were consulting over our homeless guys in the theater. One of them was the red-haired former soldier from yesterday. They’d set up a battery of equipment they’d probably borrowed from Johns Hopkins’ supply closets. Someone had trimmed the patients’ beards and hair and found clean hospital gowns for them.
I suspected most of these old guys were vets who would come up roaring in outrage if we discovered how to flip their switches. But they were polite pussycats for now.
“No news?” I asked when the docs glanced up. “I have a taker for a patient if anyone wants to make a run to Massachusetts.”
“Andre said it was okay to use this place if we can keep it staffed,” the red-haired doc replied. “The study results are so phenomenal that we’re using our off-duty hours to rotate. We can sleep here.”
He indicated a couple of empty cots they’d set up. “It’s working out. So thanks, but no thanks.”
I shrugged. “No skin off my nose. Are you sure they’re alive and functioning?”
“We can’t do MRIs, but we’ve run EEGs.” He nodded at the equipment. “Full electrical neuron activity detected. Their health is improving and stabilizing. We can’t find any reason for the vegetative state.”
“Side effect worse than the cure,” I muttered enigmatically, thinking of the gas. “Shame. Anyone tried to come over the tunnel wall lately?”
The doc who had wielded weapons the other day made a note in his tablet and shook his head. “It’s been quiet. Maybe now that Old Lady Vanderventer is gone, Acme will back off. If Andre really killed her, he did the world a favor.”
“He didn’t kill her. The gas did, one way or another. Is anyone feeding you?”
Both docs appeared interested. Red answered. “We’ve been foraging from our apartments but haven’t had time for grocery shopping.”
“Let me see what Julius has. I’m in the mood for tacos. That work?”
They didn’t seem thrilled but nodded acceptance. They’d never eaten my tacos. They’d not go back to pizzas again.
I jogged upstairs and to the floor where Julius and Tim resided. Tim’s apartment was small and similar to mine, but Julius lived in spacious elegance, with a well-stocked kitchen. He never left the house, but Andre provided everything he could need and more.
Julius’s face had gained a few more lines since I’d seen him last.
“Andre?” I asked first.
“Down at Chesty’s. We still haven’t found a lawyer willing to take his case.” He led me back to the kitchen.
I tried not to breathe too deeply in relief that Andre had overcome his near-comatose state. Maybe I’d been mistaken and he’d just stressed out and needed sleep.
Julius and I bonded over food. He couldn’t cook. I hated to eat alone. It worked. I talked while examining the contents of his freezer. “The courthouse is buzzing. I bet if you’d just go over there and schmooze a little, you could persuade them that the state doesn’t have a case.”
“I can’t leave Katerina,” he said sadly. “I’m too out of touch to schmooze anyway. We’ll keep trying. Maybe the witnesses will change their stories.”
“One of them slugged Gloria. One of their guns caused her to flip over. Nope, they won’t be talking truth anytime soon.” I nuked some chicken breasts to defrost them and started chopping veggies.
I wondered if there was any way I could do a Marley’s ghost routine and terrify the goons into telling the truth, but I just couldn’t see how it would work. That’s the problem with visualization—I have to be able to imagine it. Besides, I didn’t want to end up in any wheelchair for misusing my power. I needed to spend more time on that website. And see if Fat Chick answered questions better than Themis or Sarah.
We were stuck between a rock and a hard place. I was too inexperienced to know the right lawyer. Julius was too out of touch.
We set that topic aside and wandered to the next. “What about the gas cloud can? Did you get Tim to cough it up?” I whacked chicken and flung pieces in a frying pan.
“He swears he doesn’t have it. Could it have fallen out of your bag on the ride back here?”
Saturn preserve us, I hoped not. “If Milo didn’t fall out, I don’t see how the can could have,” I said with a little more assurance than I felt. “Maybe it rolled under some furniture? I’ll take a look later.” I frowned, trying to remember my progress yesterday. I was pretty certain I’d come straight to Andre’s back door before setting down the tote.
I was filling taco shells for Julius when Paddy arrived. The windows were open and the air was redolent of chicken and jalapeños, so I figured his nose had led him here. I already had another batch cooking for the docs, so I dished up a third plate. Tacos are easy and can be anything you want them to be when you have a stocked larder. I preferred veggies to beans and rice, but the men took everything. With extra cheese and a jar of guacamole.
“We need to search the mansion,” Paddy said without preamble.
He’d spent so many years outside society, his manners could use some polish. Of course, if he’d been an engineer of some sort, maybe he’d always been socially inept.
“Right.” I savored the first decent meal I’d had in days and slipped Milo a bit of chicken under the table. “Snodgrass says you and Dane get to fight over your mother’s assets if no will is found, so the two of you have at it.”
No way was I trying to explain to Paddy that his son had grown a conscience thanks to Max. I had enough headaches to juggle. I’d let the two of them work it out. First, they’d have to try talking to each other.
“The judge says I need an estate lawyer to file a probate claim,” Paddy said gloomily. “I don’t want that family gate to hell, but if I don’t inherit the entire controlling share, Dane’s trust executor will sell to MacNeill, and I’ll be booted out. MacNeill is dangerous.”
“Probate is easy. Even I can do that.” I took another mouthful of taco before I realized both men were staring at me. “What?” I asked through my cheese.
The two old friends seemed to be communicating silently. Fine, at least I’d had a chance to eat before they crucified me.
“It might work,” Julius said softly, tapping his fingers on the table. “We should probably talk to Andre.”
I waited. They didn’t let me in on the secret. Hurt but not wanting to show it, I rolled my eyes. Finishing my taco, I rose to put my plate in the sink and gather a tray of fixings for the docs.
They didn’t mind talking to me when they wanted something, but I was excess baggage otherwise. Fine. I’d been on my own most of my life. I was good with that.
No, I wasn’t. I’d hated being an outsider as a kid. It’s a lonely existence. I’d enjoyed making friends in the Zone. I thought they’d accepted me.
I used to have Max, but he was out of reach now. Maybe Schwartz would like some tacos.
I even considered entertaining the docs with my presence when they fell gratefully on the grub. But in the end, I decided Mom was right. Knowledge was power, and I needed to brush up on mine. Loneliness was irrelevant.
Milo checked out all the patients a second time, then obediently trotted after me when I returned home. I swear, he’d appointed himself my guard cat.
Which is why I felt perfectly safe unlocking my apartment door and walking in without turning on the lights. Milo didn’t warn me.