“That would be lovely.”
“Fine.” She pushed a tall stack back to clear a corner. “And don’t forget to go home tonight, Mike. I know how you get when you’re on these big research binges.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t forget to eat, either. You want me to send up some sandwiches?”
“I’ll manage. Thank you, Penelope.” As soon as she left the office, Mike whirled around. “Baxter?”
She was gone.
His enemy had returned.
The one who had taken his life and dirtied it, turned it upside down. The one who had twisted his mind and turned him into something he never wanted to be. Back. Again.
Gabriel Aravena felt his hand shaking as he turned the doorknob and entered his apartment. His neighbor’s description of the person who had come by looking for him had not been that specific, but he knew who it was. Some part of him had known it would happen one day. It had happened often enough in his dreams. His nightmares.
What did the visitor want? Whatever it was, it was sure to be evil. Filthy.
Not yet. Please not yet. The old feelings had returned with such power. The bad feelings. The ones he couldn’t stop. The ones that rampaged when he saw a small girl with dark eyes, dark coloring. Like Erin Faulkner. Like so many others. That was not what he wanted, was it? He had decided, right? Even without the medication, he was not going to be a monster!
He had never been able to resist this person, and deep down in his heart, he knew this time would be no different. How could it be? The visitor knew so much, so many secrets. How could he resist? Was he stronger now? No, weaker. Barely off the Depo, his body still mutating.
He had to get out, that was all. Run. Go somewhere, do something. He was pretty low on cash just at the moment, but tomorrow was payday. He would go to work at FastTrak, collect his check-and then run.
Just the thought of it filled him with sorrow. He would lose his job. Lose the managerial position he had worked so hard to obtain. He would not see April again. And he had no idea where he would go. But he had to do it. He had to get out, he had to stop the inevitable from happening. Because if he didn’t-
Never mind that. He had a plan, a way to prevent himself from turning back, from becoming a monster. And that was something. However feeble it might be, that was something.
He would salvage his life. By running away from it.
“You sure you haven’t seen this before?” Mike asked.
“Positive,” Chris Hubbard replied. “Sorry. To tell the truth-I don’t get out of the lab much these days.”
Mike dangled the key chain in front of his face. “And you don’t know who it belongs to. Or where it might’ve come from?”
“ ’Fraid not.” Hubbard leaned back, propping his elbows against the lab table behind him. The young chemist’s face seemed utterly without guile. Mike couldn’t imagine that he was lying. “What made you think I might in the first place?”
“Oh, I didn’t really. I just hoped. I know this thing is the key. If I could just figure out what it is.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Mike looked up and saw the short stocky form of Dr. Conrad Reynolds. “I’m just having a chat with Mr. Hubbard, here.”
“Oh?” He seemed immediately interested. “Has there been a development in the Erin Faulkner case?”
“No. That’s why I’m here. I’d like to talk to you later, also.”
“About anything in particular?”
“Just general stuff. Since you’re the head of the plant, and you knew both Ray Goldman and Frank Faulkner. Just to make sure there isn’t anything I’ve missed.”
“I see.” Mike watched the man carefully. He seemed a bit thrown, but Mike couldn’t imagine why. “I’ll be in my office. I’ve got an appointment.” He scurried away, more quickly than seemed natural.
As soon as he was gone, Hubbard cocked his head toward Mike and whispered, “Shrink date.”
“Dr. Reynolds sees a shrink?”
“Oh yeah. Lot of the people here do. We have a doc who comes by once a week to… how do you say it? Commune with the employees. On-site.”
“I didn’t realize chemistry attracted so many psychological ailments.”
“It doesn’t attract them. It creates them.” Hubbard drummed the eraser end of his pencil on the lab table. “You can’t imagine the kind of stress we have, when a new formula can literally mean millions-even billions of dollars in profits. Half the guys in the plant would probably be drooling into a cup right now if it weren’t for Dr. Bennett.”
“Dr. Bennett?” Mike did a double take. “Dr. Hayley Bennett? She’s the company shrink?”
“Yeah. You know her?”
“I sure do. And she never once mentioned to me that she had patients here.”
“Guess it never came up.”
“Yeah,” Mike said, scribbling furiously into his notebook. “I guess it never did. I don’t suppose you’ve had any sudden revelations since the last time we talked. Remembered anything important about Frank Faulkner.”
“Sorry, no. I was just Ray’s Scrabble buddy. I never knew Frank all that well. Dr. Reynolds would be the one to ask about him.”
“They were pretty tight, huh?”
Hubbard hesitated. “Well… they knew each other, anyway.”
Something about the tone of Hubbard’s voice caught Mike’s attention. “Does that mean they weren’t close?”
“I don’t think so. Something was going on between them.”
Mike’s forehead creased. He tried to remember what Reynolds had told him during his interview, or what he’d read in Ben’s report of his interview with the man. “But… Reynolds is the boss. How could Frank function if they didn’t get along?”
“Reynolds is the boss now. Not seven years ago. Only after Frank was gone. He could never have been the boss when Frank was alive.”
“And why is that?”
“Because when Frank was around, Frank was the boss. Of everything. He might not have had the title, but he ran the show. He had the clients, he’d come up with the most successful formulae. He was the big cheese. Acted like it, too.”
“That must’ve created some resentment.”
“No doubt. Especially with Dr. Reynolds.”
“Why so?”
“Because Reynolds had to work with him every day. Reynolds was Frank’s lab assistant, way back then.”
“I thought Ray Goldman worked under Frank.”
“He did. Well, technically, I think he reported to Reynolds. Doesn’t matter, really. We all did whatever Frank wanted. But Reynolds got the worst of it. Frank treated him like a servant. He answered Frank’s phone calls, kept his calendar. Acted like a little lapdog.”