“I should be so lucky. I doubt that will be the case.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The video of the two women seated in the Institute’s lunchroom faded to black on the basement monitor’s screen.
“Very helpful, wouldn’t you say? Now we know exactly where the widow stands, or should I say sits?” the squat man said, with a laugh.
The man’s attempt at humor only heightened Roman’s tension. He could tell where the conversation was headed.
“I detect jealousy from your star pupil. She’s a time bomb. I’ve since installed bugs in her backyard near that bench she’s become so fond when she receives her cell phone calls. I expect them to prove informative. It’s time she’s out of the picture.”
“We’ve gone over this before. I can control her. No matter what she suspects, she’s hooked on the pill and it will keep her tethered. She can’t afford to go off it.”
“She’s a wild cannon. There’s no telling what she’ll do or say. What happens if she turns altruistic and goes public?”
“She’s won’t risk the kid. Besides, she’s still not sure what’s going on.”
“No more chances. No more waiting and wondering. I’m setting my own due date. Bring her here next Friday after work, however way you can. I’ll handle the rest.”
“By the rest, I assume you mean the delivery.”
“If you want to call it that.”
Roman’s blood ran cold. He wouldn’t put it past the man to perform a cesarean section without sedatives to assure prime condition of the harvested materials. “The stems cells are absolutely necessary?”
“I’ve come this far. Why not go all the way? I’m anxious to get my hands on that placenta and umbilical cord.”
With a sinking feeling, Roman nodded. “After the delivery, I assume the mother will be disposed of.”
“The poor dear will die at childbirth. The world will believe she disappeared into oblivion, as so many public figures are wont to do when their celebrity status becomes too bothersome.”
“What about the babe?”
“Do I detect a paternal instinct? That is so unlike you, pretty one. Tell you what, if you behave, I’ll throw in the little bugger as a bonus, but don’t let it sidetrack you from your job. The redhead should be ready to trot out soon, but if she doesn’t pan out, we still have the widow’s promo in the can, and the test market subjects in the wings.”
“The redhead may die?”
“You knew that. Don’t play dumb. Depends if the radioiodine dose was right. If not, no great loss. She’s just candy for the public eye. We’ve got those other test subjects starting, some male. They’ll be the real test for my purposes.”
Roman knew he should feel bad for the way Patricia was being used, but couldn’t summon much sympathy for her. From the way she’d been treating Dorrie, her blood ran almost as cold as the squat man across from him.
Dorrie was another story. She’d gotten to him like no woman had. He’d felt her pain at the death of her husband. Knowing the danger in store for her, he’d been relieved when she managed to survive the young pill’s regimen.
He didn’t kid himself he could ever be close to her, not in his position. The next best thing would be to share the child he’d inadvertently made possible. Unfortunately, if the man across the desk had his way, Dorrie would never catch a glimpse of that child, much less live to watch it grow up.
“Clear?”
Way too clear. Roman stood up. “Got it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
In the dimness of the room, the man detected the indecision in the handsome one’s eyes. Frowning, he watched Roman leave. The pretty one better come through or he’d regret it big time.
***
Dorrie yawned as she maneuvered her unwilling body up the garage steps into the house. Who would guess she’d get so tired from doing practically nothing. She cheered herself with the thought of only a little over a week left to put up with Patricia. After that, she could stay home and await the baby’s arrival in peace.
In the kitchen, she patted her stomach. “Oh, baby, I hope you’re not late, because you are really dragging me down. I feel so fat and bloated. Someday I’ll tell you all about it.”
Hopefully, her story would not include a long and painful labor. She was not looking forward to that part of the mix. She wanted this baby so much she refused to consider other possibilities.
Time to get food into her expanded tummy before she fell asleep. She needed all the nourishment she could get.
***
Friday evening, as Dorrie bit into the submarine sandwich she’d picked up on the way home from work, her cell phone rang. Darn and blasted, she was starving, but better answer. Maybe it was Jeanne. In that case, she’d be worth the wait. Each day without word of her friend increased the possibility of foul play.
With shaky fingers, she pulled the phone from her purse. Caller ID showed Keith again. Well, maybe he’d figured out something about the pill. Then, at least one mystery would be solved. Sandwich forgotten, she clicked to answer.
“Where are you?”
“On the couch.”
“Better go in the yard.”
“Okay, hold on.”
She groped with her feet for her shoes under the table, pushed herself up with her hands on each side to launch her awkward body off the chair, and carefully made her way out the patio door.
“I did some tests on the pill you sent. The formula is identical to the one Larry cited.”
“Are you sure? You only had one pill. Maybe you need more.”
“Trust me. They’re the same. The basic ingredients are simple. Anyone could throw them together if they knew how. If I wanted to, I could manufacture the pill myself. Of course, I wouldn’t, because putting it on the market would be dangerous.”
“The thyroid problem?”
“That’s the main concern. Count yourself lucky you had a bad thyroid to begin with, or you wouldn’t be talking to me now. Also, we can’t rule out the addiction factor. It may be impossible to pry you off of it.”
Anger roiled in her stomach. “Roman lied to me. Why?”
“The stakes are high. Again, I really don’t like how this is headed. Seems Jeanne may have been on target about your house being bugged, which leaves the field wide open to other possibilities. What about Larry’s death? Maybe it wasn’t an accident.”
Dorrie almost dropped the phone, but caught it at the last minute. “Oh, my God. After Roman explained it all so tidily, even about the guard being gone, I had no reason to doubt him. I can’t believe this. Have I been working all this time for the man who killed my husband? And now, maybe Jeanne, too?”
She couldn’t bear the thought. She pressed her eyes shut to make the visions go away. Keith had to be wrong.
“Dorrie, don’t fall apart on me. There could be a logical explanation for all of this, but I had to make you aware, just in case.”
She took a deep, trembling breath. “You’re right, Keith, and I appreciate your concern. Much as I want to, I can’t afford to come unglued now, not with the baby to consider. You said you can make the formula?”
“No problem.”
“Then, please, can you make some up for me, as soon as you can? I only have the month’s supply and can’t do without them, at least not yet.”
“How will you get them? You can’t stay where you are. It’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t know where to go. If I came by you, you’d be in danger. You’re already in this too much.”
“Tell you what. Once you get away, give me a call from a safe phone. Then we can set up a course of action, including how to get more pills to you.”
“Thanks so much, Keith. I appreciate your help. Now I better get off the phone so I can throw some things together and get out of here.”
“No, that would look too obvious. Leave everything as is. Remember the bugs.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Dorrie’s mind spun in dizzyin
g circles. The enormity of what she’d heard was too hard to assimilate.
If Keith’s suppositions were true, Roman’s angelic visage masked a vile inner creature. To think Larry had been so excited to get such a wonderful opportunity, and so eager to do well at the Institute. When his services had become a threat, had he been discarded? It seemed impossible anyone could be that heartless as to mow him down on purpose. It had to have been an accident.
There must be a flaw in Keith’s reasoning, but she couldn’t think of one. Right now, she didn’t have the option of allowing Roman the benefit of the doubt, not with the baby’s life on the line. She must arm herself and the child with distance, the only weapon at their disposal. No waiting for validation.
Too bad it was so hard to move. Dorrie pulled herself off the bench and treaded back into the house.
She had to get out, yet her mind stalled in denial. Appetite gone, she wrapped her submarine sandwich in foil to take with. She performed other ordinary motions, such as stashing the dishes in the dishwasher, and turning off the television. At least if anyone watched, she’d seem to be carrying out normal activities.
She’d wasted too much time in denial and could delay no longer. Dorrie grabbed a bottle of water, along with the rest of her sandwich, plus some animal crackers as a snack, and checked to make sure her credit card and license were in her purse. She threw in an extra batch of checks from the kitchen desk drawer, and then grabbed a sweater to pull over her dress. She wished she could wear jeans, but at this stage even the maternity ones binded her.
After a last look around, she turned the doorknob leading to the garage.
Dorrie had almost made it down the stairs, before she remembered her Forever Young pills still sat on the counter. She clambered back up the garage steps and into the kitchen, where she grabbed them and stashed them in her purse. She couldn’t believe she’d almost forgotten something so important. Thank goodness, she’d remembered in the nick of time.
As she stood at the top of the stairs and locked the door behind her, a feeling of unreality gripped her, much like when she’d seen Larry taking his last breaths. This horrible nightmare could not be happening. Any minute she’d wake up and find Larry lying beside her in their safe and familiar Tomahawk, Wisconsin bed.
If only that were possible.
She climbed into the Hyundai. Though the seat was pulled back as far as it would go, her huge belly still rested against the bottom of the steering wheel. They should make cars with the pregnancy option, she fleetingly thought, before gunning the motor and pressing the opener. Rumbling followed as the garage door slowly opened.
She backed out into the darkened driveway, but couldn’t get far. Something large blocked her path, a silver looking SUV, inconveniently parked sideways. Could it be the one that had run over Larry? Her stomach churned at the thought. Bile rose in her throat.
She dare not give in to her emotions. Her first concern was to get out in one piece, but how?
She spied a small space to the right. If she hurried, she could make over there and get around the other vehicle. She turned the wheels and backed up to head right, but the SUV moved in that direction, thwarting her efforts.
Her Hyundai could make it through tight spots, but not when there were none to be had. Her dinky car was no match for the monster denying its exit. In frustration, she pounded her fist on the steering wheel.
She had to think. Somehow she had to get away. Maybe she could run for it. Sure, that was rich. A mirthless laugh escaped her at thought of waddling down the street, with her pursuer following in slow motion like in a silent movie. She’d never make it even a few steps.
Maybe she should drive back into the garage, get into the house, lock the doors and windows and call the police. No, that wouldn’t work. By the time they arrived, the SUV driver could have already broken a window, gained entry and killed her.
She had to try anyway. She pressed the remote to get the garage door open again, and began to pull up. From the rear view mirror, she spotted a familiar figure leave the SUV. She should have guessed it would be Roman, but disappointment still filled her. In fascinated horror she watched him dart into the garage seconds before the door slid down.
Dorrie reached in her purse for the cell, with the dim hope of reaching 911 in time. A pounding on the window startled her so much she dropped the phone on the floor.
Before she could begin the monumental task of undoing her seatbelt and trying to reach it, Roman’s loud voice pierced the window’s barrier. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“That’s my business,” she shouted, kicking the phone closer to the hump in the middle of the floor. She’d grab it from there.
She leaned sidewise. Her fingers closed on the phone, and she picked it up.
“Put that down right now.”
“You can’t make me.”
“This gun says otherwise.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Her mouth went dry. She’d never been on the receiving end of a loaded gun before. Roman’s eyes drilled into hers, making her palms turn clammy on the phone’s metal.
“Okay, I’m putting it away. Please don’t shoot.”
Oh, my God, why had she doubted Jeanne and Keith?
There had to be something she could do to extricate herself from the situation. Maybe an appeal to his better nature would work. “Roman, if I mean anything at all to you, please let me go.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Be serious. You don’t need me. You’ve got Patricia. She’s perfect.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Get out of the car, now.”
“You wouldn’t dare shoot. If you did, you’d never see your baby alive.”
“I’m an expert marksman. Now get out, before I break the glass and mar that pretty forehead.”
Hands shaking, she clicked the door open, and stepped out.
“That’s a good girl. Now follow me.”
Like an ungainly robot, she trudged from the garage to the SUV, and almost tripped up the passenger stairs. She stretched the seatbelt wide to cover herself and the baby.
As they pulled away, she couldn’t help taking a last look at the house she and Larry had furnished so happily. If she weren’t in such a predicament, she would have been glad to say adios. As it was, she’d love nothing more than to be inside its family room, sprawled on the couch with her feet resting on the ottoman, spending an ordinary night watching TV.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Roman placed the gun in his left pocket, squealed out of the driveway and down the side streets as fast as he could. He retained the pace in the residential area, but slowed on the busy avenues to avoid detention by the police.
He held no grudge against Dorrie and almost wished such an intervention might happen, were it not for the possibility of losing his freedom as a result.
“Where are we going?”
He could have answered, “To your death,” but he’d spare her the knowledge for now. She’d learn soon enough.
They rode in silence. The closer he got to the Institute, the more his mind balked at what awaited them. This beautiful, sweet woman had never harmed him. On the contrary, she’d pleased him in more ways than one.
Unbidden thoughts of that Hollywood night flashed through his mind, as they had countless times before. Dorrie lay beneath him, soft, sexy, and willing. He’d taken all he could get from her, though it should not have been his for the taking. He’d suffered a million regrets after those fleeting moments of fulfillment. Unfortunately, they were nothing compared to the guilt churning inside of him now.
At least he’d been gentle and offered her pleasure in return. Soon he’d hand her over to someone who’d cause her pain and worse. What the squat man intended was merciless. Roman’s conscience admonished him, telling him to do the right thing, but the consequences of disobeying the man’s orders were too brutal to accept. He must go through with this, despite the blow to his self worth.
Though t
he night was cool, sweat trickled down his back under the grey silk shirt, making it stick to his skin. His palms grew sticky, as they clutched the steering wheel. If only he could devise a way out, but none presented itself. He had no choice but to fulfill destiny, though it tore at his guts.
“Can you at least tell me about my friend, Jeanne? Do you know if she’s all right,” Dorrie asked, breaking the silence. Strange, how she could be so selfless, asking about her friend when her own life lay on the line.
“Why would I know anything about her?”
“Because Jeanne went missing right after she called my landline and suggested my house might be bugged. Obviously, it was, or you wouldn’t have shown up tonight. Come on, Roman, it’s too late to play dumb.”
“If you know so much, then you know what happened to her.”
“No, I don’t. I wish I did.” Her voice came out in a choke.
Roman glanced sideways at Dorrie, only to see she’d turned her head toward the opposite window to hide her tears. The fact she loved her friend made him feel dirty for his part in the charade. He shared a similar emotion for Dorrie, but it could never be as strong as the one she held for Jeanne. How could it? His heart lay empty. He knew no concept of the actuality of love. Anyone he’d ever trusted had let him down, teaching him to look out for numero uno, because no one else would.
The checkpoint loomed ahead.
“My gun’s easy for me to get at, Dorrie. You wouldn’t want the guard’s death to be on your conscience. He’s got a wife and kids at home, so act natural.”
Roman pulled up and flashed an easy smile. “Hello, Hal. We’ve got some unfinished business to attend to. Open up, my man.”
The guard’s eyebrows shot up, as he looked from Roman to Dorrie, no doubt wondering why Roman took pleasure in humping someone so obviously pregnant. The Institute seemed hardly the place for a sexual dalliance, but let the man’s thoughts lead where they may. Roman had more serious concerns.
Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) Page 20