Chasing the Cure

by Brooke Shelby

  Chasing the Cure

  Brooke Shelby

  Hudson Digital Press, LLC

  Copyright © 2019 by Brooke Shelby

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Romances by Brooke Shelby

  Cozy Mysteries by Brooke Shelby

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Mailing List

  Romances by Brooke Shelby

  The Billionaires Series (Romance)

  The Baker’s Billionaire

  Billionaire’s Karma

  Billionaire’s Accident

  Billionaire’s Bet

  Billionaire Unmasked

  Billionaire’s Trust

  The Billionaires Series

  The Tech Titans Series (Romance)

  Weapon of Love

  The Billionaire’s Killer

  Chasing the Cure

  Fixing the Cure

  The Character Assassins

  The Character Assassins: Part II

  Cozy Mysteries by Brooke Shelby

  The Witch’s Kitchen Series

  The Plague Doctor and the Pussycat

  1

  Dale Michaels stared down the podium at the sea of faces, all turned expectantly towards him. For one split second, he felt like a deer caught in headlights. It wasn’t every day that he presented to such an elite group of the world’s top scientists, professors, and research scholars. This was the first medical convention he had attended, and so much was riding on it.

  He took a deep breath, trying to block out the faces. He thought of the old wives’ cure for overcoming anxiety for public speaking: picture the audience naked. He grinned briefly at the very thought. Most of the audience were men—old men, in rumpled suits and spectacles. Not an appealing proposition.

  But then his eyes slid to Carlotta, sitting in the third row and gazing at him expectantly. Now she was much easier to picture naked. Carlotta Di Lorenzo. A Spanish beauty with long black hair, green snake eyes, and a figure to make a man weep. Tonight, she looked like she had been poured into the glittering red dress she was wearing. He coughed slightly as he gazed on her, inexplicably aroused. This was neither the time nor the place to be lusting after his fiancée. This was an important scientific convention. An International Conference in Nanomedicine and Nanotechnology in Health Care, as the banner pinned to the back of the room proudly declared.

  Focus, Michaels, he told himself fiercely. Get a grip. You are a thirty-seven-year-old robotics genius. A billionaire with your own robotics company. Not a pimply fourteen-year-old who can’t control a hard- on.

  Carlotta discreetly held up her hand, making a thumbs-up signal. Dale breathed out. It was all going to be all right. His woman was by his side, supporting him. And he had an important presentation to give. One that would potentially change the world.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, as the first slide of the PowerPoint presentation slid onto the screen behind him. “We are at the forefront of a cutting-edge field in nanotechnology. Most has been in the research and development stage for years. No nanite—a machine designed on a very small scale—has ever reached a practical application. And as we all know, the potential for nanites in the field of bio medics is unlimited.”

  He took a deep breath, staring out into the audience. So far, so good. He had their attention. He pressed the button for the next slide to fall into place. Carlotta smiled encouragingly. Dale stared back at the slide. This was the moment. The culmination of ten years of painstaking work. Of blood, sweat, and tears, and a hell of a lot of late nights and whiskey to get him through.

  He briefly raised his eyes to the roof, praying. For you, Mom. Always for you.

  “Until now.” He took another deep breath, feeling sweat trickle down his neck. “I am proud to introduce the first practical application for a nanite. A prototype for a self-replicating nanite that can cure cancer.” He stared around at the audience.

  The audience gasped, staring at him, wild-eyed. Dale swore that if a pin had dropped in the room at that very moment, he would have heard it like a clap of thunder.

  And so it begins, he thought triumphantly. “Shall I continue?”

  * * *

  He peeled off his jacket the second he walked into the penthouse suite, tossing it onto the ground carelessly.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” breathed Carlotta, smiling at him as she took off her power heels. “It’s an Armani.”

  “What do I care?” He was already half tanked on the free liquor that the convention had supplied afterwards. Walking to the drink’s cabinet in the corner, he stumbled slightly. Correction. Fully tanked. “I can afford another.”

  Carlotta smiled, leaning back on the huge bed invitingly. “You’re drunk. It’s … exciting.”

  He turned and stared at her, seeing her long dark hair spilling like ribbons around her. “Damn straight, I’m drunk,” he slurred. “It’s not every day I present my cure for cancer to the world.” He picked up his tumbler of brandy. “I still can’t believe it, Carlotta. It’s finished. I’ve done it!”

  Carlotta rose from the bed, winding her arms around him. “I believe it. I haven’t been there for the whole ten years when you were working on it, but I’ve been around long enough to see how you busted your balls for this.” Her grip tightened. “I am so proud of you, Dale Michaels. You are going to change the world. It is never going to be the same again.”

  He reached up, placing a hand on her face. “I know.” His voice deepened. “And I couldn’t have done it without you, Carlotta. You’ve supported me in God knows how many ways. I wouldn’t have put up with me, but you did. You are one in a million.” His eyes grew moist. “God, I love you.”

  Carlotta sighed. “Not as much as I love you. I always knew you were a genius, but this … this is beyond genius, Dale. It’s a humanitarian gift to the world. There is no one on this planet who isn’t going to benefit from it. No one.”

  Dale sighed too, gripping her tightly. What had he done to deserve all this? The most beautiful woman in the world, who loved him as much as he loved her. And now, the culmination of his life’s work was being unleashed onto the world. A cure for cancer.

  Briefly, his eyes slid to the briefcase resting on the table in the center of the room. The prototype nanites were in a special container in there, with an in-built computer. Mason, his head of security, had brought it here as soon as the conference was ended, for safekeeping. These were the nanites that were going to change the world, after all.

  His vision
blurred slightly, so that he was seeing two briefcases instead of one. He should stop drinking. But he was so elated, he just couldn’t help it.

  “A drink, my darling?” His voice was low. “A nightcap, to celebrate?”

  Carlotta smiled widely, her narrow green eyes almost turning into slits. “Why not? We both deserve it! Here’s to the nanites … those little machines with a heart of gold.”

  He reached down and kissed her fiercely. She responded with alacrity, winding her arms around him and moaning softly.

  Later, he promised himself. He might be too drunk for it, but they could fool around. It could be fun. And he knew Carlotta would be up for it. He had never met a woman who was so into sex before. She was wild and inhibited. And insatiable. He had never been laid like this in his life.

  Yes, he had hit the jackpot, well and truly. A great woman. An exciting career, with an invention that would serve humanity. More money than he could ever have dreamed of. There was only one thing that would have made it all perfect, but he had lived without her for a long time. He was used to it.

  His heart tightened suddenly. Mom. He had watched her waste away from ovarian cancer eleven years ago. He had sat by her side as she passed away. And he had vowed in that moment that he would find a cure for the disease that had ripped her out of his life before her time. Donna Michaels had only been fifty-four. Too damn young.

  Well, he had finally done it. It was too late to save her, but he could save others. Millions of others. Trillions. Any and every type of cancer. Young and old. Poor or rich. They would all benefit from this technology. And he had made sure that those bastard pharmaceutical companies couldn’t benefit. The nanites were self-replicating, meaning that they were a low-cost cure. No fat-cat drug companies making a motza from human suffering anymore, doling out the latest cancer drugs only to those who could afford it.

  “Dale, enough.” Carlotta’s voice was low. “You are brooding again. Tonight is for celebration, remember?”

  He smiled. “Sorry. You know me.” He turned back to the drinks cabinet. “I think this calls for champagne, don’t you?”

  * * *

  Dale sat up slowly. His head felt like a thousand drums were beating unmercifully. And his mouth was as dry as the Sahara.

  It all slid back into place. His triumph at the convention. The celebration afterwards. Whiskey, and champagne … and had he been drinking brandy, too? Eventually he must have collapsed into bed, but he didn’t remember it.

  “Carlotta,” he called weakly. “Where are you? I need aspirin.”

  No answer. She must be in the shower. Sighing heavily, he heaved himself out of the bed, causing his head to pound harder. There had to be painkillers around somewhere, right? Stumbling slightly, he grinned. Maybe the next thing on his to-do list, now that he had found a cure for cancer, was to figure out a hangover cure.

  Funny. He couldn’t hear the shower going. He walked to the bathroom, pushing open the door. It was empty. Where was she? He needed painkillers, then soda, then sex, in that order. Oh, and a juicy heart-attack-inducing burger with extra pickles. The Dale Michaels failsafe hangover remedy.

  “Carlotta?”

  But she wasn’t in the suite. Puzzled, he sat down on the edge of the bed, staring around the room. Maybe she had gone out to get some breakfast for them both. Unlikely, but why else would she be out wandering around a generic hotel or the streets of this city that neither of them were familiar with?

  At that moment his eyes slid to the table. Then slid back again. Funny, he had been certain he had left the briefcase with the prototype nanites there last night. He should have put it in the safe, but he had been distracted. Foggy with drink.

  And now it wasn’t there anymore. It was gone.

  His heart seized. Just like Carlotta.

  2

  Audra Gates swept into the room, noting the two plainclothes detectives sitting at the table opposite her boss.

  Dale looked like shit. Pale, and sweating, his clothes rumpled. The thick brown hair that she had always dreamed of running her hands through wasn’t slicked back like usual. It was sticking up in tufts. And those piercing blue eyes that made her heart stop were bloodshot and weary.

  She took a deep breath, then held out her hand to the detectives. “Audra Gates. I am Mr. Michaels’ personal secretary. I am here to assist with making the report.”

  One of the detectives, whose name was Harris, nodded briefly. “Take a seat, Ms. Gates.”

  Audra did, her eyes resting on Dale. He didn’t glance back. He was staring at the wall beyond, in an almost catatonic state. Shock, she knew. When she had received his frantic call this morning, she had been shocked as well. And sickened. But she had gotten herself together, arranging everything. Dale was obviously not in a state to do much, and the ball had to get rolling.

  The prototype nanites had been stolen. And Carlotta Di Lorenzo, her boss’s fiancée, was missing as well. Audra’s eyes narrowed. Coincidence? She didn’t think so.

  “Maybe she was abducted,” Dale whispered, his eyes still on the wall. “Maybe they took the briefcase and her as well.”

  Detective Harris, a beefy man with a buzz cut, sighed dramatically. “Or maybe she just took the briefcase, Mr. Michaels. There was no sign of a struggle in the hotel room. None at all.” He leaned back in his chair. “It looked like whoever took the briefcase walked straight out of the room with it.”

  Dale didn’t respond.

  Audra sighed, opening her own briefcase which she had thrown on the table. “Here are the photos of her you requested. They aren’t very good, but they are the best that I could find on such short notice.” She handed two photos to Harris, who whistled slightly as he gazed at them.

  “A looker.” He passed them to his colleague. “Is she Italian or something?”

  “Spanish,” growled Dale, his eyes narrowing. “She’s Spanish. From Barcelona.”

  “Well, it’s a start.” He stood up, as did his colleague. “We’ll wire these out and check the CCTV footage at the hotel. See if we can get a lead on where she is now.”

  “She’s innocent,” whispered Dale, staring at them. “There has to be a logical explanation for this! Carlotta has been taken … I am going to get a ransom demand for her …”

  Audra felt her heart beating faster. She hated seeing him like this. He was in so much pain, she almost couldn’t bear to witness it. And he was clinging to the belief that Carlotta wasn’t responsible for this. That somehow, she had just been caught up in whatever had happened.

  But Audra knew better. She knew Carlotta, and she had never trusted her. She vividly remembered when the woman had approached her, not long after she had started going out with Dale, asking her for information on the nanites. It could have been small talk, but Audra was loyal and had let Dale know promptly. And he had teased her, telling her that she was just looking for an excuse to hate Carlotta.

  Which had been true, but beside the point.

  “Thank you, detectives.” Audra stood up too. “Will you let me know of developments? I can provide you with any information you require about the prototype nanites and the briefcase. I helped pack it.”

  “Send us thorough photos and details about it,” said Detective Harris, handing her a card. “My email is on there. The more we have, the better. We need detail.”

  “Of course.” Audra put on her professional face, smiling widely.

  “Mr. Michaels.” The two detectives stared down at Dale. Audra could see the look of pity in their eyes, quickly masked. She could almost hear their thought processes. A billionaire robotics genius who had been careless with his most precious invention. A man who had trusted the wrong woman.

  A man who had stepped blindly into a honey trap. And Audra didn’t blame them one bit.

  Dale nodded vaguely, staring back at the wall. Audra walked the detectives out, glancing back at him with concerned eyes. His head was in his hands, and he didn’t seem to care who saw.

  * * *


  Dale’s hand shook as he poured himself a triple whiskey. He didn’t usually drink to cure a hangover, but if there was one time he needed it, it was now.

  He stared out the ceiling-to-floor windows of his office, at the dramatic three-hundred-and-sixty-degree angle views of the city. High-rises and skyscrapers soared, and in the distance, he could see the bay, bobbing with yachts. He had always loved this view. It had inspired him. But now it just looked like some gaudy backdrop to an off-Broadway play.

  There was a soft knock at the door, and Audra came in. She was wearing a blue dress which was a bit long for her small frame, and her red hair was tied back in an attempt at a ponytail, but loose pieces of hair were falling out. He knew she was trying to outgrow her old pixie cut. He had teased her that she was only trying to grow her hair long to compete with Carlotta’s long luscious locks. She had blushed and denied it furiously, of course, but he knew there had been a kernel of truth to it.

  Audra had a crush on him. She always had. He would have been a fool not to notice it. But he had never held it against her. She was fiercely loyal, and as well as being one of the best secretaries he had ever had, she was also fluent in many languages, and often acted as an interpreter when he needed it. But he could never stop thinking of her as the kid sister he had never had. Small, perky, and with delicate features, she could have passed for a kid, except for her curves. Audra was voluptuous for a woman with such a petite frame.