“They gotta pay social security. It’s the law.”
“But they don’t. How do you explain that?”
“Good accountants, I guess. Religious exemption is very probable.”
“That’s another issue. Their accountants and lawyers are also family and they all work out of one floor at the Lab. They aren’t on the books and they aren’t ever paid for the work they do. Isn’t that a more than just a bit odd?”
“Odd yes, a little suspicious for sure. But if anything, it seems more likely they are pulling some sort of tax scam. Maybe just turn them into the Feds and see what shakes out. Easier and cheaper for us and we can get any confidential report generated. Why not go that route?”
“We could. But then we run into a very big problem: we lose control and then we have people snooping around our gig. For now, I want to keep this investigation in-house. That way we control the process.”
“You’re running on some mighty big assumptions here. How certain are you of what you think you already know?”
“Positive.”
“Misti said the same thing before I came over here. But I still I don’t like this one bit. They haven’t done anything wrong, but you are treating them like a super-secret terrorist cell infiltrating the American way of life. They don’t deserve that, particularly if they’ve not broken any laws; if they have, then the cops will dig that out. And if not, the IRS. They’ll get their just desserts. Eventually.”
“You really haven’t read any of Misti’s work, have you?”
“Nope. None. That’s her gig with you. I’m just a paperweight in this project. I do the computer work when she has a problem. But I don’t interfere at all.”
“If I send some data to you. Can you take some quality time to read and reflect on it?”
“If you want.” The new Edward truly was the kinder, gentler version of his father. Adam thought this was Misti’s doing somehow.
“I do. When you get home, ask Misti to send you Files A, C, L, R and T. Also, the verification files and the summaries of the field test results. Then we should talk.”
“I repeat for your benefit, you crazy old fuck, I’m getting married on Saturday. We have rehearsal dinner Friday night. And, Marcus Thierry is already in town and with his family. I’m not sure I can stop for this until after the honeymoon. Did I mention the two glorious weeks in Hawaii, with sun, sand and lots of hot sex?”
“You did. And have. Repeatedly. But it’s not going to work out for you exactly that way.”
“What way is it going to work out for me then?” This sounded more like his Dad. The old Edward.”
“A week in Hawaii, followed by a week in London.”
“England?”
“I’d send you to London, Ontario but the people you need to meet aren’t there. They’re across the pond and working.”
“Maybe they can come for a brief, and I underscore brief, meet and greet in Maui.”
“Not feasible at this time.”
“So, who am I, or we, meeting in London?”
“Hannah. Hannah and her new love.”
Silence.
“And this is a good idea how?”
“Misti needs to meet Hannah.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I shit you not. And, by the by, Misti knows what I want her to do, I just haven’t explicitly mentioned London. I’ll leave that to you.”
“Always an inspiration Dad. This is some kinda fucked up.”
“Great, isn’t it? Like the old days when you and Rod were kids and going on adventures with me.”
“Are Rod and Cindy coming?”
“Of course. Not to Hawaii, just to London. They have to meet Hannah’s crew.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“No, not this time. But I am sure of what I know and I’m sure you will help me willingly once you see what we have. Talk to Misti, then talk to your brother and Cindy. If you still don’t want to climb on board, we’ll go to Plan B.”
“Which is?”
“Plan A. Until you change your mind.”
“That’s the Dad I know and hate.”
“Go home. Read the stuff I mentioned, then we talk tomorrow. Time is short.”
“Then you call Phillips and tell him his new algorithms will be late for the DOD. Do that, and we’re golden.”
“Done.”
Chapter 51
“Honey, I’m home. Is dinner ready? I’m starving.”
Adam always thought his vague references and campy humor was as funny to others as it was to him. And he would have been correct if he didn’t have the annoying habit of repeating his same joke repeatedly. Misti suggested he revisit an academic paper on the meaning of the “Law of Diminishing Returns”, but Adam paid her no mind. He would amuse himself first, then worry about others later. Except Misti, who he always listened to, even if his responsive actions were limited. Two could play the relationship management game.
Misti’s response today was similarly uninspiring, “It’s your turn to cook. Get to it and I’ll be down to help. I’m busy right now.”
“You have something for me from the old man?”
“It’s on the thumb drive on the kitchen table. And the old man asked me to give it to you. It’s my work, not his.”
“Alright grouchy McGrouch. I was just asking.”
“And I just told you I’m working. We have four days and I haven’t got half my work finished. So, cook, and leave me alone.”
Adam ignored his wife, who could be every bit as testy with him as could he with her. But the exchanges were always water off a duck’s back. They ignored each other until one became more annoying than the other, then they stopped. Misti once explained that’s how babies were made but Adam failed to see the relevance. Misti usually just rolled her eyes and wondered how he ever survived to age twenty-six but then, that was pre-Misti and irrelevant.
“I hear we’re going to London. Excited?”
“Say one more thing and I’m coming down there to kick your ass.”
“I’m not afraid. You promised that you would never ever hit me. I’m safe and golden.”
“You’re about to be golden, black and blue.”
“I missed you.”
“Shut up.”
“I love you.”
“Don’t be so fucking annoying. I’m not taking work to Hawaii. If you want that special treat we discussed, you better leave me alone.”
Adam raced up the stairs to Misti’s office and squeezed through the slightly opened door.
“I said I love you, wench. Now stop working and pay attention to me.”
Misti was seated at her roll top desk, computer on, papers strewn everywhere: desk, floor and pinned to the wall. Her glasses were now down, resting on the tip of her nose. Adam thought she was sexy as hell when she was in “librarian mode” and he had no intention of letting up.
“You’re worse than a child. Stop being such a brat and let me finish my work. Then I’ll give you a treat.”
“Gimme it now and I’ll leave.”
“Liar.”
“We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. You’re pretending that there’s something we need to talk about and there isn’t. Now leave and I’ll be down directly.”
Adam muttered to himself as he left the office and went back downstairs. He had lost that round but there were many more left in his lifetime. Misti was hard to annoy and that was something he was working on. Hard. He was about 0-123 in the “winning arguments” department with his petite wife but he had decided early on in their marriage that some aspects of their relationship would have to remain aspirational for him. Winning an argument with Misti was going to be a long-term project. She was the boss and he was good with the arrangement.
Life had become both fun and comfortable with the addition of Misti St. James/Alarcon to the Barrows Bay dynamic. He felt less stressed and l
ess ignorant about his family and surroundings. Misti was patient and would carefully explain why he was being a jerk and that he should cut it out. Rather than fight his own ignorance and thrashing out in every direction, he simply accepted that she was right and fell into line.
The family was amazed. Misti was not. Misti knew a lost soul when she saw one. Adam was every bit the good man she believed him to be. But some tough love was required to combat old bad habits that had accumulated over the years. And she would broach no resistance on those matters.
Adam never fought and never complained. From his perspective, Misti was doing the heavy lifting he hated and didn’t understand anyway. He was in heaven. She was his guide and interpreter in a world he couldn’t easily comprehend.
Misti came down the stairs a few minutes later, her train of thought destroyed. Rather than curse the man-child, she decided to give in, and have dinner and a kiss. He was in the kitchen, making Mexican, chopping onions and cilantro for some concoction he had learned from Maria. He liked cooking and Misti was horrible at the craft. She tried, but as she would readily admit, her genetics for cooking were recessive.
Adam, by contrast, was an excellent cook and he enjoyed both the cooking and the eating. Misti enjoyed the eating and her hubby. He even did the dishes and never complained. She, too, was very happy with the arrangement.
“So, what’s on the menu for tonight, you big brat?”
“Kisses followed by massive hugs and a dollop of hot sex. And for dessert …”
“Is that all you ever think about? Food and sex.”
“Only since you arrived. Before that it was food and …”
“OK big boy, I got the message.”
“So, talk to me as I cook and don’t leave anything out. What’s on the thumb drive that has Dad all crazy?”
“I’m not saying, ‘cause that will just provoke an argument about one thing or another. Read the stuff quick and dirty. Pay attention to who did the work and then speculate on what it might mean. Then we can talk.”
“Dad wants to discuss this tomorrow. Will you come with me when I go to see him?”
“If you want. But I won’t get involved in any of your family shit. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
***
Dinner was lovely, and they treated themselves to a little playtime afterwards. Then Misti told Adam to go to his man cave and not come out until he was finished reading and absorbing the information on the thumb drive. He squawked about how much data was on the drive and how long it would take; Misti told him to read fast then she would compensate him when he was done.
It was around five in the morning when he climbed into bed next to his delicious and sleepy wife and he considered collecting on her incentive. Misti was honorable, if nothing else, and awoke to fulfill her part of the bargain. But Adam was unusually quiet and pensive. He was in no mood for recess and elected to go right to sleep.
“You OK?” Misti asked.
“I’ll let you know a little later in the morning when I wake up. Got to think about your research for a while. And I need to let my mind sort it all out. Then I’ll be fine.”
“Thoughts?”
“I’m in. That much I can say. And, I will never let you do this alone again or ever let you out of my sight. We need to talk to Rod and Cindy tomorrow first, then we can go see the old man. I hope he has a plan. We’re going to need one.”
“Have I told you how much I love you?”
“No, you haven’t. Or I forgot. Can you please tell me again?”
“I love you very, very much. Now turn over, it’s time to spoon and get some sleep.”
Chapter 52
Misti awoke early and was up long before Adam began to stir. His sleep had been fitful, and she was worried. Adam’s sleeping habits were unusual but his pattern routine. He always slept well in one of the cabins in his mind driven reality. But she experienced him wrestling and murmuring, as if arguing with someone who wasn’t physically there. It didn’t seem as though he was winning that fight, and this concerned her. She couldn’t possibly imagine how he kept sane with a mind that wouldn’t shut off but accepted the fact that he had somehow learned how to do so.
She was curious about the ‘Masters’ he described and with whom he was in regular contact, trying to comprehend the nature of himself. His family, as Adam had mentioned several times, we’re not aware of his situation, he is fearing becoming a lab rat for some mad scientist including his own father. Maria wasn’t oblivious to his ability, just careful to allow him to explore his gifts on his own terms. She never raised the subject and Adam didn’t either. It was simply understood between mother and son that a few things, a very few things, were off limits. This was one.
Around noon, Adam was in the kitchen making coffee while Misti was in her office working again. She has gone for a jog earlier with Cindy and had asked if she and Rod would be around later for a chat with Adam when he roused. They were and would await a call from Misti when Adam was ready to chat.
Misti heard Adam rummaging around looking for something to eat, so she slid back down to the kitchen and her husband.
“You good?” she asked. “You seemed unusually restless last night. I was worried.”
“I’m fine. I have never seen anything like the stuff you gave me. It’s … troubling. I see where you guys are and I’m good with your need to pursue this matter at least a little further. But I have no wisdom to offer; this is insane. I am having difficulty assessing what this is, what this means and what we should do about any of it. There are clear options, but I have no clue what we should do next.”
“Options?”
“One,” said Adam. “We find them, and we kill them all. Or two, we find a way to coexist. Both are problematic and risky.”
“I don’t think Edward and I are quite there yet. But we both understand that the logical extension of our collective research is one option or the other as you suggest. But there may be other options too.”
“Such as?”
“No idea.”
“What you mean is you hope there are other options and you hope that these will appear as if by magic.”
“Exactly.”
“How comforting. This sucks.”
“Eat up and get ready. Rod and Cindy are expecting us, and we still must speak to your Dad. We have a busy day today.”
“We still getting married on Saturday?”
“We’re already married, you dope. You mean are we pretending to get married again on Saturday. And the answer is yes. But don’t bug out on me now. Sunday we’re in Hawaii and we, meaning I, have exotic plans. You do recall our plans, right?”
“I do. But Dad said something about us being in London after just a week. You know anything about that?”
“Your Dad asked if it was OK.”
“And you said?”
“I said talk to your son. He speaks for us both.”
“As if.”
“This time anyway. You must see now how much we need your help. And Edward is correct that you need to make the call. You really are the best option we have.”
“Maybe. Alright, let’s get going. Take me to your leader.”
“You are my leader. Where next?”
“Don’t encourage me. You know how easily excited I am around you. You shouldn’t prey on my weakness - for you.”
“Of course not.”
“Liar.”
“Worth a shot.”
***
Adam and Misti took the short walk down the driveway, making a hard left at the T intersection, and continuing down the paved road to a small cluster of homes off a cul de sac. The third house on the left, almost dead center in the grouping of five large family homes, was the residence of Rodrigo and Cindy Suarez. The front and back yards were unusually large, and pie shaped, and the landscaping was tasteful and British. They had Cindy’s mom to thank for that. Julia Eagan had labored over the landscaping in her ow
n home but now did little more than seasonal maintenance as required. She had no new projects to begin, her nursery in the back yard was full and she as happy with twenty years of practiced beauty.
In other words, she was bored and really needed a new home and twenty more years to fiddle with it. She wouldn’t get her own new home, but she certainly got a new challenge at Cindy’s. Julia could work on the yard and mind the girls. Grandma was happy, Rod was happy, and Cindy began showing a lot more appreciation for her mother and her best friend who wasn’t named Rod.
Julia, always the inveterate worrier, asked her daughter if she was spending too much time at their home, was she a bother and was Rod comfortable with the arrangement. Rod couldn’t have been happier and made sure that he remembered to show his appreciation for his mother-in-law in the small ways he knew would delight her most. Julia wanted for nothing, in part because she lived in Barrows Bay and resided on the grounds of the Institute, and in part because her needs were so few. She loved her husband, her daughter and the wonderful “boy” she married. She had been gifted two adorable and incorrigible granddaughters, on whom she doted and spoiled infinitely more than she had her own Cindy.
Since Rod and Cindy weren’t sticklers for discipline themselves, they were overjoyed to let Julia spoil away. So long as they could pin the girls’ poor behavior and bad habits on Nana Julia, they would hear not a peep out of Grandpa Mark.
Adam loved Julia a lot but couldn’t stand to be in the same room with Mark. The feeling was not only mutual, but it also radiated outward to Edward. The two elder statesmen of Barrows had crossed paths in official capacities on more than one occasion and Mark had been left with a tainted view of Edward and his world. Money or not, success or not, Mark believed both Edward and Adam were outright criminals and he could point to “that lowlife Carlos Alarcon” as his proof. Mark’s only confusion in life, and it was negligible, was how a good girl and overachiever like Misti could’ve been produced by Carlos Alarcon.
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