Dust to Dust

by James M. Thompson

  After a moment, he straightened up. “There, that better?” he asked. “You looked a little uncomfortable.”

  Ashby stared at him through narrowed eyes. “Yeah, it is. My neck was getting a little stiff until you fixed it.”

  “You know, John, it is a great night, nice and cool for a change. I think I’ll have your nurse put you in your wheelchair and take you out on the patio. While she’s doing that, I’ll go to the bar and fix us both a drink. How about it?”

  Ashby nodded, his head canted to the left from the weakness of the neck muscles on his affected side. “Sure, why not? I haven’t been out of this bed for at least a week, ’cept for my daily sponge baths.”

  Thirty minutes later, Ashby was bundled into his wheelchair with a blanket over him, even though the Houston weather was warm.

  As soon as they were settled, each with a drink in their hands, Ashby got right to the point. “Okay, Doc, what’s with all the whispering, and what do you mean we’ve been bugged?”

  He made a downward motion with his hands, “Keep your voice down, John. We’re probably safe out here, but I don’t know how sensitive the microphones are. Kevin called me earlier today, and he said they’re being followed, and not only by the detectives he said you’d hired, but also by the FBI.”

  Ashby had the grace to blush when Alexander mentioned the detectives he’d hired, but the mention of the FBI really got his attention. “What? How has the FBI gotten involved in this affair?”

  Alexander smirked and shook his head. “Yeah, well, we’ll talk about you hiring detectives to follow my nephew and his friends later ’cause the important thing is the involvement of the FBI. Kevin and his friends think the FBI has been surveilling your house and phones for some time, and when I brought Kevin’s proposal to you about the Phoenix Formula and showed you the videos of the dog and later the test subject, he thinks it sidetracked the FBI off of whatever they were watching you for originally, and it got them onto the Phoenix Formula and all that entails.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Ashby exclaimed. He wagged his head vehemently. “Those bastards have no right to bug my house and phones. Just wait till my lawyers get ahold of their sorry asses!”

  Alexander took a deep swig of his drink and held up his hand. “No, John, that is just what we can’t do. Kevin reminded me that if we let the Feebs know that we are on to them, we will lose a great advantage.”

  “What advantage?”

  “The advantage that we know about their surveillance but they don’t know that we know. It’s a perfect opportunity to tell them just what we want them to know and to keep them from knowing our true plans.”

  “So, I’m supposed to just let the bugs stay where they are? How the hell am I supposed to conduct my business, not to mention go through with the formula thing without them hearing and maybe even seeing what we’re doing? Hell, you saw that it took almost half an hour to get me out to this patio. We sure as hell can’t do that every time we want to have a confidential talk. That alone would let them know that we are on to them.”

  Alexander finished off his drink and set the glass on the patio table. “That is why I think it’s time for you to take a little vacation. How about I mention that you’re looking pale and drawn and that I think you should take some time at your house up in Maine? As I recall, your cabin is on an isolated lake with no neighbors for miles around, and if we plan it right, we can have your people precede us out there to secure the place and make sure the Feebs can’t get in to plant more surveillance equipment.”

  When he saw Ashby nodding, he added, “Plus, it will get us out of this fucking Houston heat and will also be a perfect place for us to use the formula and keep our changes from being seen by anyone in the government. You can have enough men coming and going that when we’re younger-looking we’ll just blend in with the other employees when we’re ready to leave.”

  “What about my supposed death? How do we manage that?”

  “I’ve got that covered. There are plenty of old cemeteries up in that part of Maine. We just dig up a couple of recently buried bodies, place them in the cabin, and have an accidental fire kill both of us. Those small towns don’t have real medical examiners, and it should be easy enough to bribe the local mortician to certify that the bodies in the fire belonged to us.”

  “Damn, Tom. That’s a great idea. And the best part is that the cabin is insured for more than it is worth, so I’ll come out okay on that.”

  Alexander laughed. “You cheap bastard, who cares about the damn cabin? The important thing is we’ll be free to start our new lives without having to look over our shoulders for the FBI or anyone else who might be looking for us.”

  Ashby laughed, too. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “Speaking of our new lives, has your man got our new identities all worked out?”

  “As a matter of fact, the paperwork came in yesterday. We are all set.”

  “And you’ve got your will all set up so your new identity will inherit all of your property?”

  “Yeah, all of that is ready. Now, if your nephew will come through with the formula . . .”

  “That’s the other thing we need to discuss, John. Kevin now says that since you’ve betrayed them by hiring detectives, they will not send the formula until all of the money is paid in advance.”

  “What? Why those dirty—”

  Again Alexander held up his hands. “Don’t even go there, John! You brought this on yourself, and after you promised me you wouldn’t try any double-crossing on my nephew and his friends.”

  “I only hired those detectives so that I could make sure they didn’t try to get the money and not deliver the formula.”

  “Yeah, right,” Alexander said sarcastically. “And stealing the formula for your own use never occurred to you, did it?”

  Ashby held up his good hand. “Tom, I swear . . .”

  Alexander laughed again. “You wily old bastard. I guess ten billion dollars just isn’t enough for you, is it?”

  Ashby, too, laughed. “Uh-uh, nine billion and change after I pay off Kevin and his friends.”

  When Alexander just shook his head, Ashby added, “But, Tom, it wasn’t about the money, but about the power that whoever owns that formula will have. We could rule the fucking world with a fountain of youth in our possession.”

  “I don’t want to rule the world, John. Like I told you, I just want to start over with enough money to be able to travel and enjoy life and not have anything to worry about.”

  Ashby got a faraway look in his eyes. “I don’t know if I can do that, Tom. I’ve been fighting and scrambling for so long, it’s become a way of life for me. I just don’t know whether I can sit back and just enjoy life without the excitement of living on the edge.”

  Alexander picked up his glass and stood up. “I’m having another, want one?”

  Ashby nodded.

  “Well, no one says you have to sit around and watch soap operas on TV, John. All your life you’ve been in the oil and gas business, which I think it is fair to say you’ve conquered. However, there are plenty of other worlds out there—communications, electronics, media, even sports teams. With nine billion and change, and being younger and smarter, it’ll be the perfect opportunity for you to find something else to go and conquer.”

  Ashby nodded, his eyes far away, “You’re right, Tom,” he said faintly, “it is the perfect opportunity . . .”

  “And besides, to tell the truth, John, I don’t give a damn who owns the formula, as long as you keep your word and make sure no harm comes to my nephew.”

  “I am a lot of things, Tom, but no one has ever accused me of being a liar to my friends, especially not one as close to me as you are. I say again, nothing bad will happen to Kevin at my hands.”

  “Good. Now we’ll have another drink, and then we’ll go back into your bedroom and play out our little subterfuge about you going up to your summer cabin in Maine.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Nick Fowler sl
ammed the lid of his laptop shut. “What a fucking waste of time,” he said to himself as he got up and began to pace around his living room. It had only a threadbare couch and one lopsided recliner in it since his wife had left and cleaned him out.

  He’d watched several hours of Ashby video recordings and all he’d learned was that Ashby and his doctor, Tom Alexander, were evidently going to take a vacation up to his cabin in bugfuck Maine or some such place.

  There had been no mention of the scientists or their possible location, and now that meant that Fowler was going to have to spend some of his meager savings on a trip to Maine to follow Ashby and Alexander. And, even worse, there was no way he was going to be able to get Ashby’s house up there bugged, since he’d closed the active case file on Ashby.

  He was on his fourth circuit of the tiny living room when his cell phone rang.

  “Yeah, Fowler,” he growled.

  “Wow, someone’s in a foul mood this morning,” Sam Coburn answered cheerfully.

  “Oh, hi, Sam. Sorry, just having the usual shit-ass problems with surveillance shortfalls.”

  “I got that, pal, but maybe this’ll help cheer you up.”

  “What’cha got?”

  “I don’t know whether this is your boy, but we got a hit on a possible player coming into Houston last week. A mercenary slash smuggler slash private dick flew in in his private plane to the FBO out at Houston International.”

  “Sounds promising,” Fowler said, getting out his notebook in which to take notes.

  “Just what is this swinging dick’s name?”

  “Jackson Dillard. His plane is a twin-engine Cessna 425,” he added, giving Fowler the tail number.

  Fowler wrote it all down. “You got anything on this guy?”

  “Nothing recent. Some old stuff, but he knew how to straddle the line between suspicious and outright illegal, so we were never able to bust him for anything. However, reading between the lines of our file on him, he is one tough cookie, so I’d be careful, Nick, and if you have to brace him, bring plenty of backup.”

  “Got it, Sam. Any idea on location?”

  “Nah, he hasn’t checked in to any hotels or motels that we can find, and he hasn’t rented any vehicles under his name, but that don’t mean anything with this guy. He’s probably got a pocketful of false IDs he can use.”

  “Okay, thanks, Sam. I’ll let you know if I turn up anything on him that you might be able to use.”

  “Roger, Nick. Like I said, pal, take care.”

  As soon as Nick hung up the phone, he got on his computer and logged in remotely to his desk at the FBI headquarters in downtown Houston. Once in, he searched the federal database for any information about Jackson Dillard. About the only thing helpful was a link to Dillard’s website, where he got a look at a picture of the man.

  “Huh, he doesn’t look so tough,” Fowler mumbled to himself, but even as he said it, he knew he was whistling in the wind, because the son of a bitch looked tougher than nails.

  Well, he figured, about the only thing he could do now was to stake out the man’s plane and see what happened next. Hell, maybe they’d all show up there and he could do something to gain access to the formula that was going to make him rich.

  * * *

  Even though the new safe house on Memorial Drive had four bedrooms, Kat and Kevin continued to share a bed—though there was still a no-sex agreement in place. Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t some nice cuddling going on.

  Kat awoke to find Kevin pressed up against her back, his right arm thrown over her and his right hand clasping her left breast.

  She decided not to move just yet, for she found she quite enjoyed the feel of him holding her.

  Suddenly, Angus, who was sleeping at the foot of the mattress, sat up, his nose making sniffing noises, and then he barked, jumped down, nosed the bedroom door open, and disappeared.

  “I think the professor must be cooking bacon again,” Kevin mumbled against her neck.

  She jerked around. “How long have you been awake?” she asked indignantly, glancing down at his hand firmly grasping her breast.

  He grinned sleepily. “Oh, for a while now. Just lying here enjoying the company.”

  She quickly removed his hand from her breast, though she couldn’t remain angry with him. “Oh, so you are, are you?”

  “Yes, and it was quite nice while it lasted.”

  She turned over and quickly got out of bed. “Well, it’s my turn to shower first today, so go have your coffee with the professor until I’m done.”

  “You want me to bring you a cup into the bathroom?” he asked hopefully.

  She started to say yes, and then she saw the wicked grin on his face and shook her head. “And just in case, I’m locking the bathroom door.”

  Disappointed, he climbed out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen, where the professor was, in fact, cooking several massive skillets of bacon and eggs and home-style fries.

  “God, that smells good,” Kevin said as he prepared himself a cup of coffee at the machine on the end of the cabinet.

  “Angus thinks so, too,” Stone said, taking a piece of bacon that was cooling on a platter and throwing a small piece of it to Angus, who leapt up and snatched it out of the air in his jaws.

  “Good catch, boy,” Kevin mumbled as he added sugar to his cup.

  Angus gravely nodded his thanks at the compliment.

  After Kevin was seated at the kitchen table, Stone looked over at him with a sly smile and asked, “Did you sleep well, Kevin, my lad?”

  Kevin glared at him over the rim of his cup. “You know darn well I didn’t, Jordan.”

  Stone smiled and turned back to his cooking. “So, Miss Kat is still insisting on the no-sex clause to your sleeping agreement?”

  “Yeah, and it’s driving me crazy to be so close . . .”

  “And yet so far?” Stone finished for him.

  “Yeah.”

  “Perhaps a suggestion from an old soldier might be in order?”

  “Suggest away, Professor.”

  “Perhaps Miss Kat is enjoying your proximity as much as you are, Kevin. To find out, maybe you should suggest, in a mild way, of course, that you are thinking of moving to the extra bedroom to join Mr. Dillard, as the current sleeping arrangements are causing you a loss of sleep.”

  “But what if she says okay?”

  “That is a chance you must take, my boy. Remember, nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

  Burton and Sheila both entered the kitchen then, before Kevin could respond. While Sheila poured out two glasses of orange juice, Burton prepared them both cups of coffee.

  “I must say, Jordan, even though I love the breakfasts you prepare, I think it only right that some of us also help in the cooking chores,” Sheila said, putting the glasses on the table.

  “Nonsense, Dr. Sheila,” Jordan replied, turning off the stove and moving the skillets off the heat. “I love to cook, and it has been many, many moons since I have had the chance. Please let me continue to do this for you all, since you have done so much more for me.”

  She held up both hands. “Okay, Jordan, but if it ever becomes a burden, don’t hesitate to ask for some help.”

  “Will do,” he said, scooping the contents of the skillets out onto several plates and passing them out just as Kat came running into the room, her wet hair up in a towel.

  “Am I too late?”

  “No, on the contrary,” Stone said, “You’re just in time.”

  Angus, sitting in front of his bowl in the corner, barked loudly.

  “Patience, big boy,” Stone said, “I’ll get to you in just a moment.”

  A sleepy-eyed Jackson Dillard shuffled into the kitchen, his mouth opened wide in a yawn.

  “Good morning, Mr. Dillard,” Stone said. “You are right on schedule for a nice breakfast.”

  “Not until I’ve had my coffee,” he groaned. “Remember, I am up most of the night while you guys sleep, making sure no one has
found us.”

  “Here, Jack,” Kat said, jumping to her feet. “Take my seat and I’ll get your coffee.”

  “Thanks, lass. Don’t mind if I do.”

  “And I’ll get your eggs and bacon,” Kevin said, moving to the counter where the food was laid out on platters.

  * * *

  Once they were all seated around the breakfast table and had begun to dig into the feast before them, Stone said, “I have some good news.”

  “Good news is always welcome,” Sheila said around a mouthful of home-style fries.

  “In collaboration with Burton and Kat, who have finally consented to share the main ingredients of their portions of the Phoenix Formula with me, I believe we have found a way to separate the diverse facets of the formula into a more singularly acting medication. We’ve finally been able to devise different dosages of each of the parts of the formula so that, when combined in specific ways, the formula can be made to treat renal failure, or neurological deficits, or even a combination of both without causing undue age regression or unmanageable intelligence gains.”

  Stone held up his hands. “At least, not so they’re major effects. There will always be some slight age regression and intelligence increase, but these can be improvements easily explained away as being due to the general increased healthiness of the individual from the treatment.”

  “That’s great!” Kevin said. “That means the formula will be able to do what we always wanted it to do in the first place, help thousands of sick and injured people get better.”

  Burton shook his head. “Not so fast, cowboy. These changes are right now just theoretical and work out on paper, but as we’ve found out, that doesn’t always translate to working or rats or people.”

  When Kevin looked puzzled, Kat added, “Burton just means that we think we’ve solved the problem, but we’re still looking at months and months of experiments to nail down the exact doses of each individual ingredient to make the serum work as we hope it will.”

  “But I thought we’d all agreed we are going to take the serum and regress so we can disappear and be safe from Ashby. Now you’re talking about months and months of more experimentation, when who knows whether we’ll be allowed to stay alive long enough to complete the tests?”