I leave the bathroom. The laptop is still on the counter where I left it. I shut it down and close it.
Go check the library. See where the phone cord is, where the camera is; see how easy it would be to do without turning on the lights. I grab my notebook and go out the door.
As always, the library is empty. The phone is one of those wall mounts in which the cord comes though the wall behind it. Probably all of four inches. I check that there is a dial tone. There is but I doubt it’s going to work for my purposes unless I can hold the computer at face level. Still, I browse around the shelves as though looking at books, looking instead for the camera. There is not a panel like what there is in the apartment.
But, there is one of those curved mirrors up in the corner.
Why?
Why is there a mirror in the library? Absolutely no reason, except to hide a camera.
I pick a book off the shelf without seeing what it is and then open the door to leave. When I turn off the lights it goes completely black except for the light spilling in from the hall. That light would have to go off as well. I see that there is a mirror up in the corner. Is there any place they don’t watch? Where are they watching from?
Doctor Zitnik is in the lab. He sees me and then turns his back to me. Where is Merwin Boggs? He is another ally. Maybe he can help me.
I get off the elevator at the main level and go stand in the vestibule next to the stuffed cougar. I review the conversation with Merwin. He was very suspicious, as though his life would be in danger if his conversation with me was overheard. Why did he tell me? Because he thought I could figure it all out, that I could investigate and come up with answers. What does he expect me to do after that? He probably didn’t think about the fact that they were already on me and I couldn’t get away with anything, that my days on this earth were already numbered.
I step back into the lobby. There are a couple of cushioned bench seats. I sit on one and open my notebook. Dear Tanya, I start, and then for a long time just stare through the glass at the melting snow. Why did Victor build such a fancy building for research that is so secret he has few guests? Who is there to enter these doors and observe this huge lobby? A lot of money for what? Does he have some other long-range vision, or plan? An exclusive zoo or museum?
I look down at the words, Dear Tanya. There is nothing more to say. I’m not going to be able to send this. I’m certain they’ll not let me get into town. Maybe I can give it to Merwin, or Aileen, but probably not. I can’t involve them more than they already are. At this point their lives aren’t in danger.
How can I get Tanya to look at the file, tj.doc? But first, how can I get the new file out there to catalog.com?
I go up to the boardroom.
There is no one there so I casually look out the windows and then wander by the table that holds the phone. The cord that runs to the wall is plenty long enough. Unfortunately there is a smoked globe in the corner of the room, against the ceiling. I leave the boardroom.
When I open the door to my apartment I see it immediately. There are things on the counter that weren’t there before, including the box of Rice Chex containing my secret CD.
How did they . . .
A box of macaroni and cheese appears next to the Rice Chex and then the accompanying hand disappears. The front door closes and I turn to find my hand has let loose of it.
“Zach!”
A face is poking around the counter edge.
“There you are.”
I never imagined that Ulla . . . but of course. Another way to keep an eye on me. She’s in and out of everybody’s apartment and nobody is suspicious.
“You’ve got mice, Zach.” Ulla’s voice spills out of the kitchen. “I suspected it once but wasn’t sure until now. I found droppings. I’m setting some traps. Come in here. I’ll tell you where they are so you don’t go sticking your hands in one of them.”
“Mice?” My voice sounds squeaky in my ears.
“Or mouse. Don’t know, but where there’s one there is often a few more. I’ll get them all, though. I have a special formula.”
“Formula?”
“It’s bread soaked in a mixture of Parmesan cheese, cream and salt. They can’t resist it. They’ll even wait in line while I bate the traps.”
“Really?” I’m standing at the end of counter looking down at her. She grabs the macaroni and cheese and puts it back in the cupboard.
“Hand me the cereal,” she says.
I give it to her and it disappears into the cupboard.
“Okay. There’s one in here. There’s one in the cupboard over there, and one under the sink. I suspect we’ll get them all with that.” She rises to her feet. “All done.” She straightens her dress.
I don’t say anything.
“Are you okay, Zach? You look a little off the weather.”
Maybe I’m wrong. “I’m fine. A little tired.”
“It’s easy for someone to get a little tired around here. When there isn’t much physical activity to keep the body stimulated, one can get lethargic.” She places her hand on my arm. “Oh, but of course. You’re the one who found poor Thomas. I’m so sorry. Of course that’s it. I should be more sensitive. Forgive me.”
“It’s quite alright, Ulla.”
“Have you been eating okay? Hotdogs and macaroni and cheese are not good for you. I should make you some of my fine Swedish roast. Hearty food for these Montana winter-springs.”
“Thank you. Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day. Right now I kind of think I would like to be alone.”
“Certainly. Certainly. You watch those traps. You hear one go off, leave it alone. Won’t be long before you hear another one. Doesn’t take long once they get a whiff of that mixture.”
“If I hear them, I won’t touch them.”
“Good.” She heads for the door.
“Oh! Ulla. My phone doesn’t work.”
She stops and looks at me and then walks over to the phone and picks it up. “Hm. I’ll get it looked at.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll check back in the morning on the traps.”
I stare after the closed door. Everybody is turning into either an enemy or an ally. Black or white. Which is Ulla?
Chapter 16
Only about a quarter of the lights are on in the hallways. What I don’t know is if there is security patrolling during the night, and if they monitor the cameras all that closely. Who walks around in the middle of the night? Would they have any reason to expect anyone would? I see where all the cameras are and pray that they are not being watched, that the security people are napping or sitting around playing cards or watching reruns of Leave it to Beaver. The laptop is tucked under my arm like a football as I navigate my way from shadow to shadow, up the stairs.
As I hoped, the boardroom is unlocked and dark. I drop down behind the big overstuffed chair and pull the cord from the back of the phone on the little chair-side table. I plug it into the back of the computer and then open it. I hope the chair is enough to block the glow from the computer screen.
The girls love to play on their web pages, adding pictures and moving graphics; always making changes. I pray they haven’t outgrown that yet. Tanya hardly ever looks at it except to monitor and help the girls. My best bet is with the girls. They’ll see something immediately.
I dial up to my provider. In a few minutes I’m logged into our account at catalog.com where I can edit our files. I bring up Macromedia Dreamweaver, my Web development application, and download Rebecca’s page, bringing all her linked pictures with it.
When I open it, I see, ‘Hi! I’m Reba,’ along with a recent picture of her in the backyard holding Suzie—she named the kitten after her Aunt Suzie—now a full grown cat. I scroll down and look at the other pictures: a blurry close-up of her turtle, Joey, along with a better one of him in his tank; a couple with her friends, one I don’t recognize; another with Christi labeled, ‘Me and my sister.’ I linger too long on the picture
s, wanting to go over and look at Christi’s page. I remind myself why I’m here and then turn back to the task at hand.
I bring up the HTML page I have already created. I read it again.
Rebecca, this is your daddy. As soon as you read this get your mommy. Do not do anything else. Get Mommy NOW!
Tanya, as soon as you’ve read this, delete it. Remove this link from Rebecca’s page. I have placed two files in with all the rest of the uploaded files for our website at catalog.com. You must go there and get them. They are zjreadfirst.doc and zj.doc.
I love you,
Zach
I open zjreadfirst.doc. It’s a simple message to Tanya.
Tanya, don’t be alarmed. It’s probably nothing–my imagination doing overtime. I’m just trying to be safe. The other file is password protected–you know the password. I would rather you don’t read it unless something happens to me.
I think of how much I love and miss her and the girls; I realize again that when this is over, and if I’m still alive, I’ll go home. My trying to find my career as a writer is ended. I walked away from the three people I love most for what? To get myself killed? There’s no point in it. It was crazy.
I return to Rebecca’s page. I previously dug around in the laptop until I found a cute cat icon that would catch her eye. I place the small cartoon graphic at the top of her page and make it a clickable link to my HTML file that tells her to get her mother. I save the page and then move it and the HTML file back across to catalog.com. The next time her page is opened the cat icon will be there. Hopefully it will be Rebecca who opens it and she’ll see the cat and click on it.
Before I shut down I download Christi’s page to look at later. I return the phone cord to the phone and navigate my way out of the boardroom and back to my apartment where I undress in the dark and then lie in bed staring up at the dark ceiling. The only light is the moon coming in the window.
Did that go too easily?
I figure I’ll know soon enough. If they were watching the cameras I’d probably know about it already. What are the chances they’ll go back and review? Nil I would think. I’m safe, for the time being. I roll onto my side and look at the clock. 1:13. Clouds are rolling causing the moonlight to dim and brighten. I close my eyes, certain I won’t sleep.
My eyes pop open to the sense of someone in the room. The clock shows 2:04. I’m not sure if I’m asleep and dreaming, or awake. I remain still for a few seconds trying to register which it is, decide I’m awake and then roll out onto my feet to look and listen. There’s enough moonlight that I can make out all the corners. There is nothing that shouldn’t be. Nothing.
I sit back down on the bed just as a form steps out of my bathroom. I start to react and then see it’s Aileen. She sees me and her finger goes to her lips. She has a towel in her hand.
I don’t move.
She hangs the towel over the camera and then walks toward me, dropping her bathrobe to the floor. Even in the dim light my imagination can make out shapes below her silky white nightgown. My imagination is also trying to tell me we can’t be doing what we are about to do.
She leans down and whispers in my ear. “I don’t want sex. I don’t want you cheating on your wife. I want company. Just for a while. Let me lie next to you.”
“I don’t think . . .”
“It’ll be fine. I sense a man with great self-control. I need to talk. You’re the only one I’m sure I can trust.”
Self control? I feel my arousal inside my boxer shorts.
She pushes me back under the covers and slides in next to me. She lies on her side, her face inches from mine. “There’s no other time to talk that we aren’t watched,” she whispers, breath-mint sweet. “There’s only one security guard at night and he’s too busy watching his movies to pay attention to the cameras. I also know what time he makes his rounds, when he can’t accidentally look at the monitors. He walks all five floors once an hour, starting on the hour at either the top floor or the basement labs. It only takes me seconds to get from my apartment to yours. As long as there is nothing suspected, there’s no reason for him or anyone to go looking back at the tapes. He goes off-duty at six. Two guards relieve him so I’ll have to leave no later than during the five o’clock rounds.”
I’m not sure what to say. “Okay,” comes out but my mind is someplace else, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.
“There’s a lot more to this company than what you’ve seen. They told the sheriff that we do DNA research to grow organs for transplants. That’s bullshit. I think you know that.”
“I suspected as much.”
“If the sheriff does any research or asks around at all he’ll discover that Bengal Tigers have nothing to do with human organs. And then he’ll be back asking more questions.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. It depends.”
“It depends? I don’t get it. What else does Sans Sanssabre do?”
“It depends because what Victor is trying to do is not necessarily illegal, at least not yet. It’s very controversial to say the least.”
“Don’t tell me. He’s trying to clone a person.”
The look on her face, even in the dim light, tells me I’m right.
“You made it sound earlier that everything was on the up and up.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “That was automatic. We do real research into the sabre-toothed cats, and have, as you’ve seen, brought them back. That is no trick. We really did do it, and that is fantastic.”
I roll onto my back. “I’m not sure I want to hear more of this.”
“Why not? Aren’t you a journalist–always looking for the truth?”
“I have a wife and family. I’m not one to find the truth at the cost of my own life, or at the cost of putting them in danger.”
She rolls onto her stomach and slides up against me. Her mouth comes down close to my ear and raises a pitch. “What do you mean the cost of your life?”
“Two deaths in a week,” I say. “One of them a murder. The other . . .”
“Murder? Where the hell did you get that idea?”
I can’t reveal my source. A code I strongly believe in. “Did you know that there was no blood on the cat that supposedly attacked Doctor McCully?”
“Traci saw the cat do it.”
“Or did she just form a conclusion from what she saw? Has anyone talked to her since that day?”
“Yes. I did.”
“Did you ask her exactly what she saw?”
“No. But she said Simon jumped on Peter’s back and bit him.”
“Did she say she saw Simon do it?”
“No. Not exactly.”
I consider my next question for a few seconds before asking, “Did she know about your feelings for Peter?”
Her mouth drops open and then her head hits the pillow. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so. That means she could have and the only way that was possible is if you told someone or you showed someone, and you did. You showed Peter how you felt about him. That’s how you know your way around the guards’ schedule. You figured it out to be able to get to Peter McCully in the middle of the night like you just did with me.”
Her body language as she flops over on her back tells me she’s angry and once again I have hit a hot button. If she could she’d jump up and leave, but right now there would be a good chance of running into the guard. We lie side by side for a very long time. Although I’m still well aware of the proximity of her body–under my covers, scantily clothed–my arousal has eased back considerably.
She rolls to her side and props her head on her hand. “Damn you! Is there anything about me you don’t already know?”
I roll onto my side and prop my head on my hand. With my nose only inches from hers, eye to eye, I say, “Plenty I’m sure, but one more thing I do know is that you want me as bad as I want you. We might try to justify it in that we shared a tragic event and we need to releas
e it with each other, inside each other, as hot and sweaty as we can get, as animalistic as we can get. I say try to justify because you wanted me since we talked in the library.”
She says nothing, but stares at my eyes as though trying to challenge my words, convince herself that they are not true, that she had only one reason to come here and that was to talk. Her tongue runs up and down her lips and her jaw muscles clench. “Shit,” she says softly.
“But we won’t do it because. . .” I don’t know why we won’t. At least not for sure. Tanya is standing in the way, but there is something else that is stronger.
“Fear,” she says.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Sure there’s fear, but you’re already in my bed. As far as anyone finding out about you being here right now, we’ve already done it. What else would we be doing?”
“Talking.”
“Sure. I’ll be sure to tell my wife that. I lay in bed and talked to Aileen Bravelli all night, but honest Honey, that’s all we did.”
Aileen snorts.
“Would you believe it?”
“Hell no. If you and I were married and I thought you cheated on me I’d have your balls and hers too.”
“She wouldn’t have balls.”
“A woman who’s been cheated upon can find something to cut off the other woman.”
“So,” I say, and shouldn’t, “since we are already guilty. . .”
“. . . we should just do it and get it over with,” she adds.
We remain face-to-face, eyes locked. Who’ll make the first move? I feel myself falling . . . falling . . . falling toward her. I ride on the sweetness of her breath, the aura that exudes from her, the intense throb of her sexual desire.
And then we both fall away onto our backs. I breathe deeply and shiver off the intense desire that has driven down my legs like tingly spider webs. A layer of sweat covers my body. I tense all my muscles and then release, tense and release. I sense Aileen is doing somewhat the same thing. As the tension drains off and my body relaxes I discover her fingers are entwined in mine.
Sabre-Toothed Cat Trilogy Page 12