by Pogue, Aaron
"It's still not up to you," Katie said, and Meg turned terrified eyes to Theresa. Katie looked over, too, and after a moment Theresa nodded solemnly.
"It's the right thing to do," she said.
Just then the door at the other end of the lab burst open. Reed was the first one through it, with Hart's police officers flooding in behind him. Katie put her hands up and called out, "It's all right. Situation's under control." Then she stepped closer to Meg while the police crossed the room and said, "You're going away somewhere real quiet, for a very long time. We're the secret keepers now."
Reed rushed to Katie as she stepped back. He turned her to face him, and searched her eyes with concern in his. "What's going on?" he said. Chief Hart stepped up behind her to cuff the girl. "We had you on Hathor, somehow..." he trailed off, looking around, and then shook his head, "and then you were gone."
"Call it a miracle," Katie said. "You got what you needed, right?"
He nodded, and she smiled. "Good. How's Ellie?"
Reed shook his head, not meeting Katie's eyes, and she felt her stomach sink with dread. "That bad?"
"She's at the hospital now, but she's in bad shape. That place was wrecked."
"She went there to die," Katie said. The full force of that struck her, and she looked down. "She didn't go home. She didn't go to a hospital. She knew what to expect—she'd seen what happened to Barnes—and she went to that fleabag motel—"
"Where she'd been happy," Reed said quietly. "I talked to Drake. I reviewed footage of the two of them together. I think she found some comfort there."
Katie shook her head. "What a mess." She looked up and found Theresa watching them. A blush rose into her cheeks, but the other woman pretended she hadn't heard their conversation.
She came clumsily to Katie, a bit unsure, then flung her arms around Katie's neck and squeezed her in a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered in her ear. "Thank you so much."
"Of course," Katie said. "I just did what I had to." The unintentional echo of Meg's words seemed to strike them both at the same time, and Theresa stepped away.
She smiled. "I'm amazed what you were able to accomplish, what you were able to uncover, with so little information. You...you saved my life." Katie shrugged, her blush back, and Theresa turned to Reed. "She deserves a promotion."
"She's a fine agent," Reed agreed. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Barnes, but could you excuse us for just a moment?"
"Of course," Theresa said. She withdrew to the corner, where she took Eric's hand and in a moment all her attention was on her husband.
Katie watched her, fascinated. "She knows," she said absently. "She knows about everything that happened, and yet...."
"She's in love, Katie. Simple as that." He shook his head. "How did you know?"
Katie glanced around, checking that none of the police officers was close enough to overhear, then she leaned forward with a shrug. "It was Martin," she said quietly. "You knew all along. Without him, we could not have finished this investigation."
He held her eyes for some time, measuring her, and then he shook his head. "Not as quickly anyway." He sighed, and then let slip a smile. "I see what you're doing," he said, "but Martin's not operating within the law."
"He's helping us," Katie said. "Everything we've asked of him—"
Reed clapped Katie on the shoulder and shook his head. "It's not up to me," he said. "You're arguing with the wrong person. But, for what it's worth, I'm just as much a fan as you are." He turned to watch Hart march Meg down the room and out into chill darkness beyond. "You did good work, Katie."
"Thank you, sir."
"We've still got to get this sorted out, to the satisfaction of Drake and Dora, but it shouldn't take too long. I'll have Craig book us a flight home. You want tonight or tomorrow?"
"Tonight!" She said it almost before he could finish the question, and he chuckled.
"You got it." He glanced back over his shoulder, toward Eric's corner, and then nodded that direction. "I think your grateful citizen has a few more words for you." He saw the hesitation in Katie's eyes, and his smile broadened. "Okay, people," he called out in a bellow that filled the room, "let's clear it out. We'll put this place under lock-down, and you can come back for any evidence you need later. Move it!" He started walking slowly toward the door, shepherding the police ahead of him, chiding them along more through personality than real authority. Katie watched him with a smile.
Then, as the door fell shut, she turned back to Theresa, and felt her smile fade.
15. Expectation
The sound of the door's locks engaging echoed in the room's sudden silence. Theresa stood by Eric's side, some ten steps away from Katie, and they stood with eyes locked for a long moment, in total silence.
Theresa broke the moment with a brief embarrassed smile as she looked down. Katie quickly crossed the distance and caught Theresa's hands, earning her another smile.
"You did it," Theresa said without looking up. Her voice held quiet awe. "You broke through all the silence, all the secrecy."
"I had help," Katie said, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "It wasn't all me—"
"It was you," Theresa said earnestly. "It was you who came through that door, Katie. It was you who faced her down, all by yourself."
"I couldn't bring a crowd," Katie said, and Theresa finally met her eyes with a laughing grin.
"That's exactly what I mean," she said. "You didn't give up, you didn't back down in pursuit of justice for Eric...." A sigh escaped her, but she shook it off. "And then you did so much more to protect his legacy."
Katie blushed. "I'm not a hero Mrs. Barnes. I understand the importance of Gevia."
Theresa's lips quirked up, and she shrugged. "It's more important to us than most." She stepped back and took Eric's hand. Katie had to fight the urge to look away.
She didn't hide it is as well as she'd hoped, because Theresa cocked her head in curiosity then gasped a tiny, "Oh!" She went back to Katie and caught her eyes. "How long has it been?"
Katie said, "I don't know what you mean." She gave herself the lie, though, by wiping tears from her eyes. She blinked them away then forced a brave smile.
Theresa took Katie's hands now. "Where is your father?"
"He's in Boston," Katie said with a sniffle. "It's a very good facility...."
"Good," Theresa said. "That's great." She paused, then asked again. "How long has it been since you went to see him?"
"I haven't...." Katie had to wipe her eyes again. "I talk to him. I call and tell him about my life. Almost every day."
"Over Hathor?" she asked, and Katie nodded. Theresa said, "Then you never get to see him, to hold his hand...."
"I can't!" Katie said. "I don't understand how you do it." She sniffed. "I don't understand how my mom does it either."
"It's love," Theresa said, with a sad smile for Katie. "The same thing that makes it hard for you, actually. He needs me now, more than ever." She turned tender eyes on her stricken husband. "And I still need him. All the time." She brushed his face gently with her fingertips, reminding Katie of her mom at her father's bedside.
"Eight...eight years," Katie said. When Theresa looked back Katie looked away. "It's been a long time."
"And yet he's still there," Theresa said. "He can still be in your life, Katie."
"No." Katie wiped her eyes. "I walked away. I moved on."
"You didn't," Theresa tilted Katie's chin up to meet her eyes. "Not if you still call him. Not if you still care this much." She smiled. "You've been there for him, all this time, without taking the comfort of seeing him still alive—"
"But he's not," Katie said, more harshly than she meant to. "He won't ever be again. It hurts too much to pretend. I'm sorry." She looked at Eric and shook her head. "I don't mean to be cruel, but that's all it is. Pretending."
Katie expected anger or hurt, but all she saw in the other woman's eyes was sympathy. The silence stretched, and then Theresa gave Katie a quick, tight hug. She ste
pped away afterward, clearly embarrassed, and fixed her eyes on Eric. "He taught me a lot of things," she said, then chuckled. "A lot of things. But one of the most important things I've learned in all these years is not to underestimate the power of human expectation." She squeezed Katie's hand, unashamed now, and smiled with sincerity as her eyes roamed the dark tables of the lab. "We can work miracles, Katie. I've seen it."
Katie had no answer for that, and Theresa seemed to understand. She turned away again, leaving Katie some time to compose herself. Katie dried her eyes and caught her breath, but she still felt out of order. She straightened her clothes and adjusted her hair. At last she couldn't put it off any longer. She went to stand by Theresa's side and forced herself to look at Eric's serene face. The machines hummed and glowed, eerie guardian angels in the scientist's strange tomb. Katie's heart beat faster but it didn't race. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was no need to run. There was just a man, asleep in his bed.
"I know you're right," Katie said at last. "I should...I mean, I ought to—"
"Hush, now," Theresa said, her voice comforting. "We've said enough about that." She sighed. "I guess you need to go."
"No," Katie said, then she sighed too. "Well, yes. I do." She looked over her shoulder at the exit, imagining all the hubbub in the grounds outside. "It's just so quiet here."
Theresa nodded. "It's peaceful here. It's a nice place to rest." She sighed. "I...I don't know what will happen now."
"We'll take care of it," Katie said, making a promise on Martin's behalf. "After everything you've given—"
"Enough about that, too," she said. "Whatever happens, we gave our best."
Katie nodded. "He changed the world."
The other woman smiled, and Katie knew she wasn't thinking about Gevia—about the lies and the secrets, about sacrifices and mistakes. She was thinking about a young man in a cramped apartment, asleep on their couch with all the wisdom of the age spread out in the pages around him, and a new idea blooming in his dreams. She was thinking about the man who cured cancer. "He changed the world," she said, pride rich in her voice. "And he loved me."
Katie squeezed her hand. She drew away, then stopped. "I really should go—"
"Of course!" she said earnestly. "Don't let me keep you."
"But we'll be in touch," Katie said. She withdrew another step. "If you need anything...."
Theresa met her eyes, that smile still there, and said softly, "Go. Live your life."
Katie went. Her footsteps rang loud in the cavernous silence and the room behind her felt empty. Alone. The feeling of a tomb came to her again, and she shivered. She had an urge to look back, to make sure the man and woman in the corner were really there, but she couldn't make herself do it. She couldn't quite catch her breath, either, until the door fell heavily shut behind her.
A police officer stood waiting in the lobby, one of Dora's with the look of a rookie about him. He glanced up as soon as Katie came through the door, and then rushed to her. "Agent Pratt," he said, "I'm supposed to tell you Agent Reed is in the administrative building and—"
"Take him a message," Katie said, cutting him off. "Tell him I'll see him at the airport. I'm done here."
The officer blinked in surprise, but Katie didn't give any more explanation. She pushed through the door and past the knot of other officers—police and military alike—arguing with Dora Hart about some matter of policy on the lawn. There were onlookers, too. There were always onlookers. This time it was a crowd of researchers and medical staff, gathered at a respectful distance, pointing and whispering among themselves, and Katie took a moment to consider how strange that building must be to all of them. Until she and Reed had come, the laboratory doors had only ever opened for three other people. These men and women had the clearance necessary to work in one of the last restricted areas in the nation, and yet this building right next door to theirs was a complete mystery to them. Katie could only imagine the rumors tonight would spawn.
She shook her head at the thought, as she slipped through the iron gates and out onto the street. There would be rumors, as sure as there were onlookers. Before she got back to her hotel room there would be stories flying about Eric, about Meg, about Gevia. None of it would be true—not yet—but then, nothing about Gevia was true. It was all a fragile web of lies, so easy to break—
A voice called out her name, drawing her out of her thoughts. She looked up the street, and heard it again. It was a car parked on the curb, waiting to give her a ride. She approached it with a look of sheer curiosity, and pulled the door open to find a route back to her hotel room already prepped on the driver's monitor. She climbed in and let out a tired sigh as the door fell closed. Then she whispered quietly, "God bless you, Martin Door."
She half expected him to answer, some clever comment or humble deflection, but there was only silence. That was enough to suit her. She sank back into the soft chair and closed her eyes. Reed would probably be irritated at her for disappearing, but she didn't have the stomach to wrap things up—to sort out the politics and the permissions with the lieutenant and Chief Hart. She didn't want to face Meg again, either. She wanted to go home.
She didn't notice it happening, but she fell asleep before the car got to her hotel. The driver had to bing twice to wake her up, and she was still groggy on the elevator ride up to her room. She had a fleeting, horrible fear that maybe she, too, had been drugged. It had certainly been the girl's intention. But in this case it was something far more straightforward. She was exhausted, and now that all the anxiety of the investigation was gone she was crashing. She'd always done that, at the close of a big case. All her life. She made it to her room, closed the door behind her, and fell face-first onto the bed. It was everything she could do to keep from falling asleep for the night.
Instead she measured her breathing, and ran through everything she needed to take care of. It was a short list. Her bags were still mostly packed, but she needed to grab her dirty clothes from yesterday and the toiletries from the bathroom. Reed was arranging their transport, but she needed to figure out exactly when and where, and somehow be awake to get there. She should make a pot of coffee, she decided, but instead of getting up and doing that, she stared at the print on the blanket from half an inch away.
She should call Reed. If he was at the Administrative Building, they could get a message through to him. She should try to explain, make sure he didn't need her back there. At the very least she should check in with Craig, see if she had any business messages. Without getting up, she said tiredly, "Hathor, connect me to Dad. Thanks." It buzzed and buzzed, and then asked her if she wanted to leave a message. There was a sudden weight on her chest and she had to fight to draw a breath, but she managed and forced out the word, "Yes." Then she had to go through it all again, to get enough air to say, "Dad.... I love you, Dad. I'm going to come see you. Soon." She cried then, for real. All the tears she'd held back at the clinic, all the emotion she'd battled every time she'd been there. Everything that had been building for two days came pouring out of her, and she let it go.
When it was over, when she was finally catching her breath again and dabbing her tears dry with a cheap tissue from the hotel's nightstand, she heard a voice over her headset. "Hi, Katie." It was Martin. "That was sweet."
She gasped, horrified at the interruption, and he clearly understood. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to pry. I wasn't trying to be.... Look, I'm sorry." His breath escaped him. "I just needed to talk to you, and I was waiting for a good time."
"In the cab would have been better."
She heard him smile. "I didn't want to wake you." She shook her head, irritated, but he went on. "I need to thank you, Katie. Even more than Theresa did. You did so much to protect my work—"
"I need you," Katie said simply. She made her tone cruel. "That's all there is to it. I need you. Mrs. Barnes tried to convince me I was a hero, but I would have done nothing here without your help. I would have done nothing with Jan
eane's case, either, if it hadn't been for you." She shook her head. "I can't afford to say no to you."
"You're hurting," Martin said, gently chiding, "and you're being pretty hard on yourself. I saw what you did for Janeane, and I saw what you did for Theresa, here. And what you did for me. You risked your life keeping Reed out of it, Katie. You didn't have to do that." He sighed. "I'm not a mercenary. No, I'm not prepared to hand myself over to the FBI, but you have to believe me. I'm here for you. As much as I can be. You don't have to do special favors just to make that happen." He was silent for a moment, but Katie had nothing to say. After a while he said, "I owe you, Katie. If I didn't already, I certainly do now. I am in your debt."
"No," she said, flustered, but he spoke over her.
"And I have something for you, too. A token." He went on quickly. "I don't mean we're even. I'm not even sure this is something you want to know. But I found something...."
"What?"
"It's about your father," he said. "It's about his condition."
"Don't," she said softly, but he didn't hear her whisper.
"He was one of the five cases. The same drug that Meg used on Eric. I got into the sealed records, Katie, and his name was at the top of the list." She sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes closed, and said nothing. New tears burned in her eyes, but she didn't have much more left to give. Concerned, Martin said, "Katie?"
"I'm here," she said. "It...it doesn't change anything."
"I know," he said. "I just thought you would want to know."
"Thank you." She sniffled, and wiped her cheek with the crumpled tissue. "Thank you, Martin." She couldn't force any emotion into her voice.
"Umm...it's nothing." He sounded as awkward as she felt. "Hey, uh, I need to go. I want to help out some with the people who were trying to contact Miss Cohn. But I'll be in touch—"
"Yeah," Katie said. "Later."
For a moment he said nothing, then quietly, "Goodbye, Katie."