"Here, put these on. I told Frank that Lucky is your seeing-eye dog."
Pat's hand went out for the glasses, then stopped a few inches from them. Her eyes darted from the glasses to Allan and back to the glasses.
"Are you sure we need to do it this way?" She asked, a look of concern and confusion on her face.
Unable to keep a straight face, Allan burst out in a broad smile. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. It was just too good a story not to try it on you." He put the glasses on the dash.
"Why you old kidder, you. Dawn didn't warn me about this side of you,” Pat said joining in on the joke with her own smile. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to watch the game through glasses too dark to see anything." The two of them laughed at the thought. As they did, their eyes met and captured each other for a brief moment. It's going to be a wonderful evening, Allan thought as he studied the fine details of Pat's face. They broke the momentary gaze, and Allan went around the car to open Pat's door.
"Thank you kind sir,” Pat said as she exited the car, turning to help Lucky out over the seat. She clipped the leash to his collar, and he obediently came to her left side.
"Good boy. You look pretty for the people tonight, and see if you can't find your real owner. Okay?”
"We need to go to the south gate to get in. Frank said he'd be sure to be stationed there. He has a note for us just in case anyone tries to raise a fuss. We should be just in time for the pre-game show."
Pat stepped up beside him and took his arm. "Thanks so much for inviting me to the game. I really feel like part of the community. It's nice. I've lived in Charlotte for years and haven't felt as much at home as I do here tonight."
"It's the small town atmosphere. It'll get you every time if you give it a chance,” Allan replied. They joined the crowd entering the stadium.
For a small town high school, Waynesboro boasted about having one of the nicest and largest places to play football, and on this particular evening the Eagle's Nest, as it was popularly called, was jammed to capacity. The Waynesboro Eagles and the Morganton Bulldogs were still in their respective locker rooms. The Morganton band was marching off the field at one end while the Waynesboro band lined up at the other, preparing to make their entrance for the pre-game show.
"This is a beautiful facility,” Pat remarked as Allan turned over their tickets to a tall lanky fellow wearing a crisply starched security uniform.
"Why, thank you ma’am,” Frank replied as he handed the ticket stubs back to Allan. "You might get a chance to tell our benevolent benefactor what you think. He's here tonight; somewhere."
"Oh? Who's that?" Pat asked.
"Why Dr. Fredric Homlin, president and owner of Biogentrix, of course."
"Did you say Dr. Homlin is here tonight? That's unusual,” Allan remarked.
"Not really,” Frank replied. "His 'Honor' usually makes an appearance at all the big home games. He thinks it's good P.R. Just like he thinks donating all the money to build this stadium gives him the right to do whatever he wants in this town and out there in that damn lab of his." The sarcasm in Frank's voice was only slightly masked.
"Dr. Homlin doesn't seem to be the most popular guy in town,” Pat said as they wound their way to their seats. "Despite trying to buy some popularity."
"No, I'd have to agree with you there,” Allan replied. "I've never met the man face to face, but despite donating a lot of money to Waynesboro in one way or another and despite the fact Biogentrix is one of our larger employers, most people aren't settled about having them here. Most of the people who work there transferred in. It was great for the economy here, but not everyone saw it that way."
"How long has Biogentrix been here?"
"Only about three years. It's been a hornet's nest from the very first. Lately, it's gotten worse. That's why I was surprised to hear that Dr. Homlin has decided to walk among the common folk."
"I'd like to meet the man,” Pat said with an edge of intensity that startled Allan.
"You are here for a vacation, aren't you?"
Pat laughed. "That's right. Still, once a detective, always a detective. He sounds like an interesting fellow, that's all. Don't worry, you're my date for the entire evening."
Allan smiled. "Thanks. It wouldn't do my reputation much good to have you leave me for someone else in front of so many people."
They came to their seats on the thirty yard line. Lucky brought immediate attention to them as the three of them sat down. Allan had purchased three tickets to be sure they'd have plenty of room for Lucky. Several of the kids around them immediately came up to Lucky and started patting him. Lucky ate up the attention.
"Neat. We have a new mascot,” one of the teenager's said. "But he's not wearing the school colors." Within moments, the problem was remedied. Someone found an old Eagle's sweatshirt for Lucky. Allan helped Pat slip the shirt over Lucky's head and thread his front legs through the arms of the shirt. Everyone howled with laughter and Lucky joined in with a chorus of his own.
"Well, I guess we don't have to worry whether Lucky might fit in or not,” Allan said as they finally settled in to watch the game. The two teams streamed onto the field, and the game was underway.
Pat glanced up at the scoreboard at the end of the field. "Fourteen, fourteen. Can't ask for a closer game. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun at a football game." She turned to look at Allan. "Can we walk around during the halftime? I think we should try to find a spot to exercise Lucky."
"Sure. Could I interest you in a cup of coffee or hot chocolate?" As Allan asked the question, his breath formed a momentary cloud between them.
"Oh, I'd love some hot chocolate."
The three of them walked down to the refreshment stand, pausing frequently to give several kids in the crowd time to pat Lucky's head. The refreshment stand was crowded with other people intent on warming themselves up. The mood of the crowd was festive and light. Their team had held their own against the larger high school, and the Eagles were known as a second-half team. The stage seemed set for an upset.
Allan and Pat were almost to the front of the line when they heard a commotion behind them. As they turned to watch, a large man who towered a good four inches over anyone else in the crowd pushed his way through the crowd.
"Out of the way folks. Get out of the way,” the man said repeatedly as he pushed the crowd to either side. Several people grunted their complaints as they were shoved out of their spots, but no one attempted to get in the big man's way. As he approached them, Pat stepped purposefully in front of him, planting her left heel into his instep with painful force.
"Excuse me. I'm so sorry. I didn't see you bulling your way through. May I help you?"
The man cursed under his breath but kept his self control. Through tearing eyes, he glared at Pat. "I need to get through here and get Dr. Homlin some coffee,” he said as he attempted to wave Pat to the side, but Pat's heel was still on his instep, and she simply shifted her weight forward again and the man winced in pain once more.
"You don't mean 'the' Dr. Homlin? Not Dr. Fredric Homlin? Is ol’ Freddy here tonight?"
"That's right. Now if you'll excuse me . . . "
But Pat didn't budge from her spot but simply applied a little more weight to her left foot. "Why don't you go on back to your boss. I'll be happy to get ol’ Freddy a cup of coffee and bring it to him."
The big man hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to proceed with his assignment or not. His attention was finally drawn to the fuming crowd around him as though he noticed for the first time that there were other people around. Pat ground her heel into the tender area of his foot one last time.
"Go on now. I'll be over there in just a moment with Freddy's coffee."
The thug finally pulled his foot out from under hers and retreated. "Dr. Homlin doesn't like to be called Freddy,” he said under his breath. "He's over there next to the rest rooms." He pointed to a small group of men, all dressed in dark cashmere coats.
As the man turned his back on them, Allan slid up next to Pat. "You're really something."
She turned to him, surprised at the comment. "Whatever do you mean?"
"You not only averted a mob scene single-handedly. You completely cowed that giant and got yourself a meeting with the eminent Dr. Homlin."
Pat smiled. "Well, I did say I wanted to meet him. Do you mind?"
"No, not at all as long as you bring me along."
"Of course, silly. You're my date."
As they reached the front of the line, they purchased two hot chocolates, a coffee, and a hotdog for Lucky.
"It's terrible for my reputation for this many people to see me feed such trashy food to a dog, but since the next closest small animal vet is thirty miles away, I don't imagine it'll cost me too much business." Allan bent down and fed the hotdog to Lucky. "Now, let's go meet this Dr. Homlin."
They jostled their way through the crowd, Allan and Lucky leading the way with Pat following behind in their wake with the extra cup of coffee. As they approached the group, all the men turned to watch their arrival. Pat stepped forward with the cup of steaming coffee.
"Hello big guy,” she said to the man she'd stopped in the crowd. "Here's the coffee I promised."
One of the men stepped forward to take the cup, but Pat ignored him. Instead she stepped around him and handed the cup to the shorter man standing next to him.
"Dr. Homlin, I presume,” Pat said as she handed the cup to him. As she did so, Lucky stepped forward and took a sniff of Homlin's pant leg. The hairs on the back of his neck immediately bristled and a low threatening growl grew in his throat. Allan immediately pulled him back, but Lucky continued his threatening stance.
Dr. Homlin glanced first at Pat and then to Lucky and back again to Pat. "Your dog?" He asked as he nodded in Lucky's direction.
"No, not really. He's a stray I'm taking care of for a few days,” Pat replied with a cold smile. She felt her own hackles rise on her back. She'd been a private investigator long enough to learn to trust her instincts. This man was to be watched closely.
"Fine looking beast though a bit silly looking in that garb. Perhaps I'd be interested in him." As he spoke, he took a couple of steps back.
Lucky calmed down a little but continued a barely audible growl in the back of his throat.
"Thanks for considering it. I’ll let you know,” Pat replied without much interest in the offer. She'd already decided Dr. Homlin was the last man on earth she'd ever give Lucky to. She continued to study him as Allan introduced himself. The owner of Biogentrix looked to be in his mid-forties although he had a face that made judging his age difficult. He was an attractive man. What one would call distinguished, dark hair with a dusting of gray at the temples.
Pat was most interested in Homlin's eyes. They were cold yet intense. She had the thought as she studied them that he could literally freeze you in your tracks with one stare. The slight crow’s feet at the edges gave them a sinister quality. Pat felt the goose bumps tingle along her arms and understood why Lucky continued to growl. The dog had good judgment.
"I appreciate the coffee." Dr. Homlin directed the comment to Pat. "You must come out to my place some day soon, and let me return the hospitality."
Pat noticed the momentary look of surprise that flashed across the face of the large man who appeared to be Homlin's bodyguard. It appeared the invitation was an unusual one for Homlin to make.
"Why, I'd love to come out and see what goes on at Biogentrix. Perhaps Allan and I could make it out some afternoon for a tour."
Dr. Homlin laughed but there was no humor in the sound. "No, no, my dear. I'm afraid you misunderstood. The lab is off base. No one is permitted through there, even one so lovely as yourself. No. I meant my home, Waverly Place. It was once a game preserve. I bought it a few years ago and have been fixing it up. You'd be most welcome there."
Pat smiled at the correction and decided she must check out the Biogentrix lab as well as its mysterious owner.
"I am a bit difficult to reach right now, but you could give Allan a call at his clinic. He's taking care of Lucky right now, and so I'll get the message through him. Is that okay with you, Allan?"
"Sure, no problem. I have next Wednesday afternoon off. If that would work in your schedule, Dr. Homlin."
Pat appreciated Allan's willingness to come along. The thought of being alone with Homlin had only added to her goose bumps.
"I'll need to check my schedule. I can let you know by the first of the week," Dr. Homlin replied. Pat had the distinct feeling he was not excited about including Allan in the invitation, which was just fine with her.
Dr. Homlin tipped his coffee to them as though to make a toast. "Well, here's to an exciting second half. Enjoy the game." And with that, he and his entourage turned and walked away.
Only after he was out of sight did Lucky finally stop growling. "Well, it's for sure, ol' Lucky didn't have much use for the president of Biogentrix,” Allan said as the three of them started back to their seats.
"No. I'd say Lucky has very good taste in people. I have to admit Dr. Homlin gave me the creeps as well."
"Then why did you accept his invitation?" Allan asked, a note of surprise in his voice.
"Because he does give me the creeps. I've got a gut feeling something is off about the man, and I intend to find out what it is. I appreciate your offer to come along, but if you would rather not, I'll understand. I'll be fine."
"Are you kidding?" Allan replied. "I'm simply coming along to protect my own interest. After seeing how you handled yourself tonight, I'm sure you'll be fine. If anything, I'm more worried about Homlin. Just remember, you're on vacation."
"Yes, well, I think the vacation has just been turned into a working one." Pat took Allan's arm. "But for the rest of tonight it's all vacation, and I'll not have another thought about Dr. Homlin. Promise."
Unfortunately, it was a promise she found herself breaking several times throughout the rest of the evening.
Dissecting Larvae
Sunday, Nov. 7
The sharp scalpel blade slid across the glistening white tissue. Being accustomed to seeing a thin line of blood mark where the blade had traveled, Allan was surprised when the red streak did not appear. Of course, the larva had been dead for at least twenty-four hours. You wouldn't expect much bleeding this long after death. Then again, who was to say the damn things even had blood or that the blood would be red?
He wiped a drop of perspiration from his temple with the upper part of his arm. Why was he sweating so much? It couldn't be more than seventy degrees in the treatment room. You're cutting open one of the things that turned into Todd, he thought. It's okay to feel a little strange, even to sweat a little. Your life has taken a bizarre twist of late. This is strange behavior even for Halloween.
He continued to dissect into the deeper layers of the larva, surprised to find only a homogeneous mass of off-white tissue -- but not completely homogeneous. Throughout the layers were subtle markings, tissue a bit off-colored, as though it might one day have differentiated into organs.
In his years as a veterinary student and then as a practicing doctor, Allan had dissected many strange animals from starfishes and mud puppies to horses and cows. He'd never seen anything quite like the larva. There just wasn't much to look at. The closest thing it reminded him of was cutting through a brain. You knew it was a complex organ, the most complex of the body, yet when you cut through one about all you saw was white tissue.
Could the larva be just that -- an undifferentiated brain waiting for a body to be formed around it? No, the first larvae hadn't formed a body around themselves. They had become the body, first a puppy like form then a human baby and last of all a reproduction of his son.
Allan had dissected the remaining larvae. Each one was like the first. What conclusions could he draw from his hour or so of work? Not much. The larvae were definitely not like anything he'd ever run across. He'd known that from the star
t, and the dissections had only confirmed it. They appeared to be blank slates with very little of their inner workings predetermined. It made sense. Maybe that was why they were able to adapt to different forms so easily. Their genetic makeup wasn't preset. It seemed like a likely hypothesis.
Allan took the remains of the four larvae and triple bagged them. He then placed the bags into a sturdy cardboard box, taped it shut, and placed the box in the freezer reserved for animal pick-up. The city would be around in the morning to pick up whatever was in the freezer. They would simply think it was another dead animal waiting for disposal and would burn the whole thing: box, bags, and larvae.
Allan felt like an accomplice to a crime. Destroying evidence to protect a loved one. Well, perhaps it was true. He was protecting Todd. He had to. What would they do to Todd if anyone ever found out where he had come from? They'd haul him off to some governmental lab, and a dozen or more scientists would end up doing to him what Allan had just finished. They'd test him, draw all sorts of different samples, x-ray him, and eventually cut him open to see what made him tick. Allan shuddered at the thought. Not to his son they wouldn't.
He walked into his office and picked up his ski jacket off the desk where he'd thrown it when he'd first come in. As he put it on, his thoughts wandered from Todd to Pat. He had invited her to dinner on Wednesday after they were through visiting Homlin's place. He toyed with the idea of introducing Pat to Todd, except it couldn't be Todd, it would have to be TJ. It was a crazy thought. It could only complicate matters, the more people who knew about his secret.
But for some strange reason, he didn't want Pat to know just about TJ — not the fabricated story but the truth. All of it. Maybe she'd understand what he was going through. Maybe she would be able to shed some light on the mystery. After all, she was a private investigator.
FreeForm: An Alien Invasion Romance Series (FreeForm Series Book 1) Page 11