He pulled back onto the road, entered the drive, and stopped beside a speaker and keypad. I directed him to hit the button for the main house. My dad answered after several seconds, which surprised me, because he had “people” to do that.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“Jonas and I are here,” I yelled across Jonas.
“It’s about time. You’re late. The rest of the caterers are already here, and guests will be arriving shortly.”
I turned a hard gaze at Jonas, feeling confused.
“Pull around to the service entry,” Dad added.
Jonas’s eyes widened. He looked from the speaker to me, then whispered, “Could the police be inside?”
“Are the police here?” I asked.
“Yes. Now hurry up, or I will cut your fee in half.” The connection was severed.
“What do we do?” I asked. “Should we just go?”
“You didn’t kill Vance.” He squeezed my hand again.
“You think I should turn myself in to the police? What if they really think I did it? They’ll throw me in jail. I’ll never be able to prove I’m innocent.”
“I’m not going to let anyone throw you in jail. We’ll pull around to the service entrance, like your father instructed, and wait for the police to leave.”
As we neared the house, Jonas’s eyes widened as he took in my childhood home up close for the first time. “This isn’t a house. It’s an estate.”
I laughed. “Yeah, well, I’d much rather have a small shack on the beach than this cold house.” I was taken aback by the surprised look Jonas flashed at me then.
At my direction, Jonas drove around and pulled in behind a catering van in the back. I mentally changed our clothing to white button-downs and black slacks, and disguised our faces and hair. Jonas pulled down the visor in front of him and examined his blond hair and clean-shaven face.
He pointed at the scar I gave him next to his eye. “What happened here?”
I tilted my head and pretended to examine it. “I threw a glass at your head after you insulted the mini quiches I made at a party last year.” I shrugged. “I think it adds to your sex appeal.”
“You think I have sex appeal?”
I rolled my eyes. “Let’s go. I want to hear what the police are saying.”
~~~~~
As we made our way through the kitchen, a woman—I guessed she was the head caterer by the way she was barking orders at everyone within earshot—hollered for us to stop. But then suddenly she stopped talking, walked over to a beautifully layered salad, and stuck her hand deep into the dish of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, onion, cheese, creamy dressing and bacon. I knew Jonas was controlling her mind.
“What? You don’t like seven-layered salad?” I asked Jonas, smirking.
“Not particularly.”
The woman looked stunned as she pulled her dressing-covered hand out of the dish, but by then we’d disappeared around a corner.
I led Jonas down a short hallway, through a dining room with a table set for twelve, and into the foyer. I heard my dad’s voice coming from the living room.
I crossed the foyer. Jonas was hot on my heels. We slipped behind a hall tree, perfectly positioned to hear my dad’s conversation, but hidden if anyone were to enter the foyer. I was facing Jonas and standing close enough to breathe in the citrus scent of his shower gel. He placed a hand on my waist, holding me close and out of sight, and I nearly missed the conversation playing out in the next room.
“Dr. Howard, with all due respect, your daughter was seen with the victim last night and again this morning. Look, we talked to an employee of Howard BioTech who claimed they were intimately involved when she interned for you last summer. How can you possibly know whether they had kept up their relationship?”
Jonas cast a dark look toward me. Did you have an intimate relationship with him? he asked.
I rolled my eyes, then lifted a finger to my lips before pointing toward the conversation. I had not had any sort of relationship, other than a working one, with Vance, but apparently people were convinced we had.
“Because I know my daughter,” Dad answered. “Vance was a womanizer. He had relationships with half the women who worked under him.”
“Is that something you allow in your workplace?”
“It’s something that happens when people work closely together for long hours. I don’t condone it, but I don’t tell my workers what they can and can’t do outside of work.”
“I’m told several people have quit in the last year because they had trouble working with Mr. Carrington.”
“Is that a question, officer?”
“Do you know who Mr. Carrington was seeing recently?”
“No.”
“Do you know if he had enemies?”
“I have no idea.”
“Dr. Howard, can you confirm your whereabouts this morning around seven a.m.?”
“Yes. I was getting out of the steam room in my bathroom upstairs. You can confirm that with my wife when she’s feeling better.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Now, I think I’ve told you everything I know.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll see myself out.”
I slid my hand into Jonas’s and pulled him around a corner so that we were out of sight of the front door.
“You will let us know if your daughter shows up? Encourage her to talk with us?”
“I have your card.” It was not lost on me that Dad hadn’t answered the officer’s question.
When I heard the front door close, Jonas and I stepped out of our hiding spot. My dad turned, and when he saw us, he smiled. “Briana.” He stretched his arms wide.
I walked into his arms, embracing him. “Hi, Dad.”
chapter fourteen
Jonas
After a warm squeeze, Dr. Howard held Bree at arm’s length. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Having shed the illusion of a caterer, Bree now wore a tight-fitting green dress that accentuated every aspect of her beautiful curves. Her red hair hung halfway down her back, curled to perfection. I glanced the length of my body. To my surprise, I appeared to be wearing a pair of silk dress slacks and a gray cashmere sweater. Not the jeans I could have sworn I had dressed in earlier and could still feel against my legs. I eyed Bree curiously.
“You should have told me the truth,” she said. “That I was cloned,” she added, in case he needed help remembering which truth she was referring to.
They spoke as if they’d had these sorts of conversations hundreds of times. Like it was no big deal that she was a walking science experiment. Not to mention, that wasn’t the most pressing issue. Why weren’t they discussing the fact that Bree was wanted for questioning in the murder of his employee?
“I had intended to, but you always knew you were special.”
“Special, Dad? I’m a clone with weird powers. People have tried to kill me and my friends.” Bree’s voice climbed an octave, and I shifted my stance, ready to step in if needed.
But Dr. Howard waved a hand, dismissing the significance of Bree discovering that she was a cloned human and the fact that she’d nearly been murdered. “I’ve done nothing but prepare you for who you are,” he said, like this was all no big deal. “For your future. How about a drink?” He gestured toward the parlor and the full bar.
“No, thank you, Dad.” She sighed. “We need to talk.”
“And we will. I see that your friend found you. Do I have him to thank for convincing you to come to dinner? Or did you finally realize your typical games weren’t going to work this time?”
“Games? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bree batted her eyelashes, a move I’d seen her use to manipulate others many times.
Dr. Howard eyed me sideways. “Jonas? What can I get you?”
I hesitated, but only for a second. “I’ll have an ice water, sir.” As much as I wanted two fingers of bourbon, I needed to keep a clear head. And I didn’t drink. Not often, a
nyway.
Dr. Howard’s grin grew. “I think I like you, Jonas. You’re avoiding having a drink because you think you need a clear head.”
I studied him. Had he read my mind? “I can’t deny that, sir.” Of course, I was also underage, and I had no intention of getting caught drinking and driving by the police, especially since they were already looking for one of us.
Dr. Howard went to the bar, filled a glass with ice, and poured water from a silver pitcher. “Speaking of games, my dear Briana, you’re not going to deny impersonating Vance or my assistant today, are you?” He handed me the ice water, then proceeded to pour gin and a splash of another liquid I assumed to be vermouth into a cocktail shaker. I might not drink, but I recognized a gin martini when I saw one.
Bree stared at Dr. Howard, appearing to debate how to answer his question.
He turned, gave the cocktail a hearty shake, and eyed his daughter.
She angled her head, studying him. “The surveillance cameras?”
“Yes. You’re lucky I have a very loyal security team. I had them delete all evidence of you inside the labs today.”
“How do you know they didn’t run to the police?” I asked.
Dr. Howard looked at me and smiled. “Because I pay the people who work for me very well.” He turned back to his daughter. “Want to tell me why you thought it a good idea to roam my labs today without alerting me?”
“I wanted to see what had changed in the labs since last summer.” She picked at a cuticle. “I saw Vance last night, and I was curious what he was doing that deserved the big promotion you gave him.”
“Ahh. Yes, Vance was a brilliant scientist. And did you learn anything today?”
“Not really.”
“Good. Glad my security is working, even if only a little.” He sighed. “I’m not hiding anything from you, Briana. I’m happy to show you around the labs. I want you to work with me.”
“Where’s Mom?” Bree asked, abruptly changing the subject. “You told the cop she wasn’t feeling well.”
“I’m right here, sweetie.”
Bree and I turned to find a petite woman standing just inside the parlor doorway. She was dressed in royal blue, her platinum blond hair was tucked into a low bun, and she was weighed down by diamonds—on her hands, her ears, and around her neck.
Bree towered over her mother. She had to bend over to give her a hug. “Hi, Mom.” She turned to me. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Jonas Whitmeyer.”
“Whitmeyer.” Her lips thinned. She cast a hard look at Dr. Howard.
“It’s okay, darling. Sandra Whitmeyer is locked away.” Dr. Howard poured the liquid from the cocktail shaker through a strainer into a martini glass, then handed it to his wife.
Bree backed up and slid a hand into mine. “Jonas is my friend.”
“Hmm.” She took the shallow glass and took a sip. “Well, shall we sit in the parlor before dinner?”
I squeezed Bree’s hand, stopping her from following her parents. Please tell me what’s going on here. I feel as if I’ve walked into an alternate universe set in some weird 1950s family movie.
You have. She smiled. One big movie set filled with the best actors around.
“So, Briana,” Mrs. Howard began. “Your father tells me you’re wanted for questioning in the murder of Vance Carrington. So tragic. He was such a good scientist. What a waste.”
I choked on my water. This was not an alternate universe. I had no idea what this was.
~~~~~
Drinks, appetizers, soup, main course, dessert, coffee, after-dinner drinks. And enough acting to make me forget that I was inside the house of the owner of one of the top, most revolutionary science labs in the world—a lab rumored to be experimenting on everything from artificial intelligence to top secret biomedical devices.
Dr. and Mrs. Howard sat across from each other at the heads of the table. Bree, directly across from me, traced the lines of condensation down her water glass. A white tablecloth, flowers arranged in colors of yellow, purple, and white, and a couple of tall, skinny candles separated us.
Conversation never lagged, yet Bree and her parents had yet to talk about anything of substance. I mostly listened, while keeping one eye on Mrs. Howard, who sucked down gin martinis like a marathon runner ingesting electrolytes after a race.
“So, Jonas,” Dr. Howard said after a server had cleared our dessert plates and left the room. “Have you perfected your healing abilities?”
Mrs. Howard spilled a bit of her martini when she abruptly set it down on the end of a spoon.
I slid my gaze back to Dr. Howard. “How do you know what I can do?”
“That was the point of the original clones,” he said matter-of-factly. I knew this, but I knew nothing about Bree’s father. “Briana has yet to develop her own abilities, because no one has taught her, but I was under the impression your mother was nurturing yours all along.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I’m not comfortable speaking about this with you.”
Dr. Howard steepled his hands and smiled, while not removing his eyes from mine.
“Did you know I would have some sort of healing abilities?” Bree asked.
“You were supposed to learn everything there was to know about your abilities inside The Program.”
“What are you talking about?” Bree asked. “You knew all these years that my DNA had been manipulated, and you were waiting—for what? For me to reach some magic age? For strangers hired by Wellington to teach me?” She placed her hands on the table and spread her fingers wide. She seemed to be struggling to rein in her anger—anger she’d done a great job of hiding so far.
“Yes, that was precisely our intent. After Sandra blew up the original lab and disappeared, Peter and I both felt that you, Lexi, and the others deserved to grow up as normally as possible for as long as possible. That’s why we tucked you away at Wellington when you were old enough.” Dr. Howard slid a glance toward me before returning to his daughter. “And evidenced by what’s happened since Sandra discovered your location, we were right in hiding you. And now, it looks like I’ll get to teach you about your special skills.”
“You? And how do you suppose you’re going to teach me?”
I watched the exchange between them with growing interest.
“You’re back in Portland, where you’re supposed to be. I’ve got a job ready and waiting for you. A team of specialists stand ready to educate you better than any boarding school or college ever could.”
Bree stood. “I am not working inside your laboratory, Dad.”
“Oh, here we go,” Mrs. Howard said, rolling her eyes and taking another gulp of gin.
Bree continued. “That was never my plan. You’d have known that if you had bothered to talk to me for any length of time about what I wanted out of my life.”
“Sit down, Bree,” Dr. Howard ordered.
“No,” she fired back. “Mom…” Bree nodded toward her mother, “… Dad. Thank you for dinner, but Jonas and I are leaving.”
“I said, ‘Sit down!’” Dr. Howard’s voice boomed. He slammed a fist on the dining room table, rattling crystal and silverware against fine china.
Bree crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze at her father. I couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at my lips. I’d seen this look of Bree’s many times. I was impressed she had the guts to face off with a man his size, even if it was her father.
“Fine.” Dr. Howard stood and leaned into the table, meeting her hard stare. “You’re broke. The police are after you. Thanks to your picture all over the news, the IIA won’t be far behind them. That is if they’re not already hot on your trail.” He slid a glance toward me. “I get the impression the IIA is often barely a step behind you.”
I cleared my throat and chose my words carefully. “You know quite a bit more about your daughter and the IIA than I would have imagined, seeing as how in the dark Bree was when I first met her.” I studied him closely.
“She wasn’t ready to k
now more.”
I about yelled, She was nearly killed, but Bree cut me off.
“Wasn’t ready?” she laughed. “You left me vulnerable and in danger. I could have been killed. One of my friends was killed.” Bree was speaking of Dani, Lexi’s best friend and roommate at Wellington Boarding School.
“I’m deeply sorry about that. Wellington was supposed to be safer. Up until young Mr. DeWeese and your friend Jonas arrived, you were safe there. Communication went down after Peter was killed, but you were never in real danger until Lexi went off on her own vendetta against Sandra. If she’d left well enough alone, you would have been perfectly safe.”
“Darling,” Mrs. Howard said softly, “I think I’ll retire upstairs. I’m suddenly terribly exhausted.” Her eyelids looked heavy. She was slurring her words, from the gin, no doubt. “Why don’t you help me upstairs, then you and Briana and her little friend can continue your conversation.”
I raised a brow at the “little friend” comment.
Dr. Howard skirted the table and gave Mrs. Howard an arm for support. But before they left the room, he turned. “Don’t you dare leave. This conversation is not over. And it’s in your best interest to hear everything I have to say.”
chapter fifteen
Briana
When I was sure my mom and dad were out of earshot, I faced Jonas. “Welcome to my life.” I looked away quickly, trying not to let him see my embarrassment at my alcoholic mom and my domineering father. Though of course I had known exactly what I’d be facing, and maybe that was why I had brought him along. He needed to see the truth of my past.
Jonas stood and walked around the table. He lifted a hand and played with a curl that hung down the side of my face before sliding a hand to the back of my neck, forcing me to look at him. “You’re not the first child to have a messed-up family life.”
“Oh yeah? That’s what you think this is? Just an example of a teen having to deal with her parents’ grown-up problems?” As I stared into Jonas’s amber eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder why I’d ever felt the need to give him a glimpse into my very strange upbringing.
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