Seek: Project Xol

by Amabel Daniels

  “Bingo.”

  She raised her brows at Zero’s reply. “So I’m going to get her notes?” She flipped her hands in the air. “Why couldn’t she have just had Hendrick get them for her? Or one of her other ass-kissing research assistants?”

  “Probably because they wouldn’t have access to the box. Let me back up. The box your key goes to is a joint account, one that was opened by Scott Farger and then Rosa was added to it.”

  We knew this.

  “Scott Farger was a scientist who’d worked exclusively with axolotls.”

  “Az-what?”

  I nearly smiled. At least I wasn’t the only clueless one in the room.

  “Axolotls. They’re a species of salamanders who live mostly in labs now.”

  Cassidy kneaded her temple. “Rosa’s focus is on dementia, and late-onset—”

  “It is now. Back when she’d first gotten into research, she was a member of Scott’s team.”

  “Researching some lizards.”

  “Salamanders,” Zero corrected. “They’re actually kinda freakishly cute.”

  She grunted. “All right, they’re adorable then. What’s—”

  “What’s so important about them? They regenerate. Fully. They’ve been researched for many years for their regenerative abilities. Rosa and Scott weren’t doing a Crocodile Hunter kind of thing. They were geneticists. Genealogical research about their abilities to grow back any part of their bodies and never get cancer.”

  Impressive. Maybe this was linked to Rosa’s research of dementia.

  “You ever hear of Daysun, Cassie?”

  My hands froze. I was nearly done applying the red tint to Cassie’s hair and my fingers wouldn’t move.

  Daysun?

  As in the umbrella corporation Dale Hanson was a CEO for?

  She turned in her seat and pointed a finger at me, maybe belatedly remembering I’d mentioned his name and likely realizing who he was. “Heard of it before.”

  “They do many things, but they are very influential in the pharmaceutical world. The big boys. They’ve worked extensively with and funded a broad spectrum of scientists trying to find the cure for cancer. In the early nineties, they were the primary funders for Scott’s research.”

  “Where’s this Scott guy now?” she asked. “Maybe he could help us find Rosa? If she’s interested in his safety deposit box?”

  “Not his box. Their box.”

  I frowned at the emphasis, the implication… A joint account how, exactly?

  Finished with the dye, I closed the container and tore off the gloves. I sat next to her, facing her as her brows slanted and her tongue wetted her lips. Her apprehension was rubbing off on me. I crouched closer to her profile, my elbows on my knees, offering my presence as any kind of support it could be.

  “See, Griffin Bank’s access policies are unique, and strict. You don’t just walk in with a key and tada! They have a lengthy process of setting up individuals for access. You have access to the account because Rosa added you to it, as her daughter. And Rosa has access to the account because she was married to Scott.”

  Chapter Nine

  Cassidy

  Married.

  As in, Mr. and Mrs.

  Husband and wife.

  Rosa was married?

  Unable to compute anything, I gaped at Luke staring at me. I sucked in too much air, not realizing I’d been holding my breath at Zero’s bombshell.

  “M-married?”

  Did that mean he was my adoptive dad? I could have had another parent? Someone else to rely on? A dad to be there for me all the times Rosa hadn’t been? My heart sped faster and I shook my head. How? Just, what? Rosa was married? And she never told me?

  “I found the marriage certificate,” Zero said.

  “Did they marry before or after she”—they?—“adopted me?”

  “Before.”

  I slammed my open hand to the table. Then why have I never heard of this? How could Rosa keep this from me? Why—

  “That’s not it, Cassie.”

  Jesus. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know more. Wasn’t learning I’d had an absent father figure bad enough?

  “He’s dead.”

  I blinked fast. That explained the absence then.

  “He was killed in Nottingham. At the same research facility Rosa was last bound for.”

  I gasped. If Rosa had gone to where her former colleague—her husband—was killed… I swallowed and brought my free hand to my neck. The tender abrasions there grounded me, reminding me of the danger I’d just barely escaped, danger Rosa’s spouse had perhaps met too… I was here, alive. Even if Scott was dead, I had to hold on to the faith that Rosa still lived.

  Where are you, Rosa? What is going on?

  “This axolotl research had the nickname of Project Xol and the last anything had ever been recorded of it was just before Scott’s death. Since then, nothing. The work died with its leader.”

  And Rosa moved onto her current focus of dementia. A career shift. People did that all the time.

  “Have you ever asked her about what she studied?” my friend prompted.

  I never needed to. I knew what was her focus was without having to know what she’d been interested in years ago. Targeting and reversing the symptoms that came up in late-onset dementia. I’d read articles about her progress, I’d visited her at her labs over the years, I’d witnessed her poring over so many spreadsheets of data and being engrossed in reams of scholarly journals.

  “From before. With Scott,” Zero continued. “The fact it wasn’t her box originally, and that she’d just gone to the last place he’d ever been at…” A snort came through the line. “I started adding fuel to the hunch she’s gotten involved with her former research again.”

  “With cancer treatments.” I rubbed at my skin just above my brows, careful not to accidentally brush against my chemically potent hair.

  “With a cancer cure,” he corrected.

  Luke shifted in his seat, his forehead creased as he seemed to concentrate on every word spoken. That dark intensity wasn’t reducing me to a blush this time. No, it seemed as though he was frantically strategized and contemplating.

  “Which is much bigger, Cassie.”

  Comparing one illness to another? Weren’t they all bad? It was impossible to pick and choose—the diseases certainly didn’t with their victims.

  “We’re talking life-changing. A cure for cancer? Think about the ramifications.”

  I stared at the phone, trying to force out the chaos of questions about Rosa being married. A cure to cancer. Yes. That would be huge. I’d be damned proud of her if this was what she was contributing toward.

  “And since Rosa’s interested in files in Scott’s box—the man who had led the research—and she’s traveled to the last location he’d worked at… How can we ignore the possibility she’s gotten back into the project?”

  For starters, she would have told me. I twisted my lips. Ha. Rosa informing me of major facts of life was a joke. Clearly, she felt there were significant things too confidential for my ears.

  “Then what of it?” I asked.

  “As miraculous as a cure for cancer would be, it’d be a revolutionary change to our way of life. Money, Cassie. Consider the money behind the scenes. All the drugs that wouldn’t be required. Treatments, diagnoses. Medical…everything! Plus, who would be the one to put a price on a cure, huh? Someone is either due to make a big payday on it or lose out by eliminating the need for services.”

  Zero was no stranger to conspiracy lore, but what he commented on now was frighteningly plausible. I sat still and tried to picture it. Rosa hunched over at a computer, always studying. Secretive to the point of trusting no one. She could trust me, her only other family member to play fetch, but she couldn’t ever tell me what for?

  “Do you think that’s what’s in the safety deposit box? Files related to the research?” Luke asked.

  I cocked my head and raised my brows. Good God. What if
that was what I was sent to retrieve? Material for a revolutionary medical cure.

  “Well, hello there, stranger.”

  I shot my gaze to Luke. Right. Zero knew I wasn’t alone, but Luke had never spoken on our calls until then.

  “Who are you?” Zero asked.

  I licked my lips and debated what to say as Luke stared at me. If I had him tell Zero his name, my buddy would waste not half a second to search for him online. If Luke were any other man, I wouldn’t care, but some stories, some facts were better left to lie.

  “Luke.” He provided his name without blinking. Trapped under his steady regard, I swallowed. He wasn’t just telling Zero his name. He was letting me know he wasn’t afraid of being with me, being involved with this mess.

  “Z, Luke’s my…” What was Luke? My knight in tarnished armor. My comrade in running from Michael. My driver to answers, I hoped.

  “Lover? Bodyguard?” Zero just had to tease.

  Warmth crossed my cheeks. Like Luke would be my lover. I was too…soft for him. Not physically. I wasn’t hardened enough in life to relate to his darkness.

  “Friend.” I exhaled slowly. “He’s my friend. He’s coming to New York with me.” More like he was taking me there, but still.

  “Okay. And, Luke, yes, I think that’s exactly what Rosa’s got Cassie collecting for her. It’s got to be related to the retired Project Xol. Whatever it is that you pick up tomorrow, scan it if it’s paper, copy it if it’s digital. Just get it to me so I can plug it in and check it out.”

  I nodded and Zero provided us with instructions for logging into an encrypted cloud storage and where we should be safe to use a computer if need be. He explained that he’d secure a computer to remotely control. Luke grabbed the hotel-branded notepad and jotted the details down.

  When we hung up with Zero, silence felt too heavy and too awkward for the first time since Luke and I had met. Instead of launching full steam into wondering about Scott and what might be waiting in the box for me tomorrow, I faced Luke.

  Friend. I wasn’t sure if Luke was a friends kind of guy. He seemed more the type to have acquaintances he could keep behind a barbed fence, not allowing anyone to truly get close. It was such a small label to what he meant to me, though, even with the short time I’d known him.

  “I didn’t mean we were best buds, or anything…” I said lamely, unsure how to say words I didn’t even know.

  He stood and went to the bed. “Jeez. I was demoted from boyfriend to friend, and now I’m not even that.”

  I gaped at him as he sat on the bed, his broad shoulders resting against the maroon cushioned bedframe. His expression was a bored one as he deadpanned at me.

  “I only said that at the motel because—”

  “I’m teasing.”

  Whoa. Tease? He was…joking? Playing around? I hadn’t witnessed anything but his smart, impatient seriousness. Sarcasm, yeah, I bet he was loaded with it.

  “I doubt you’d ever be my boyfriend.” We’re not in the same league. Not his record and my squeaky clean, boring life. Ripped, sexy men like Luke did not mesh with nervous bookworms like me. “But you’re…”

  He raised one arm to rest it behind his head, highlighting the flexed muscles and reminding me to stare at his raw sexiness. “I’m…?”

  “Something.”

  “Talk about a vote of confidence.”

  “A good something!”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m not fishing for compliments.”

  And I wasn’t offering them. “I’m just saying…you’re someone to me.” Hell, why was he making me use labels? I went to the other side of the bed and sat against the headboard, staring ahead like he was. “I can be just as socially incompetent as Rosa. I like to keep to myself, but I’m not regretting having you in my life.”

  Like it was some grand invitation.

  I added, “And I’m really grateful. Thank you for not leaving.”

  He didn’t reply and I wasn’t worried about what he was thinking. Because even if he was here with me now, there was no promise he’d linger. Getting attached to him in any way wasn’t wise. His record didn’t trigger me into panic, and I believed it when he said he’d served his time. He’d made poor choices in the past, but I couldn’t assume it made him a bad person. He’d paid his debt to society and done his retribution, so who would I be to judge him now?

  Him staying with me presented a problem for his safety. I still felt guilty at the nasty bruise I’d put on his shoulder from the frying pan, and I’d feel infinitely worse if I brought more trouble or pain on him from what Rosa had dumped in my lap.

  A cure for cancer?

  I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to be part of a revolutionary anything. Not if it was this violent.

  We sat there for I couldn’t tell how long and my earlier exhaustion returned, combatting with the frenzied energy of Zero’s report.

  “You can rinse it out now.”

  I didn’t startle at Luke’s words, but it spurred me into action. Right. The dye. I was a redhead now. He stayed on the bed as I went to remove the chemicals from my hair. Once I was done, I towel dried my hair and watched my reflection in the bathroom’s mirror.

  I’d…missed it. The auburn felt like me and I wondered what I’d been fleeing when I’d bleached it blonde and dipped it in pink. A rebellious phase? A reaction to not even knowing who I should be in my natural appearance?

  I’d never felt so lost and conflicted. About myself. My family. The people in my life. Michael, who was after me, but not reporting me. Rosa, who’d fallen off the face of the earth, or at least the grid, and asked me to step into complicated matters. Luke, who challenged me to stay strong and to catch me when I needed it—as a stranger still. Scott…who’d been my father?

  Rosa had never been forthcoming—imagine that—about my biological parents. She’d simply explained they were young junkies on the street who didn’t want a baby, and she’d adopted me. I had been too young at the time to even understand the concept of drug abuse, and with the stern, closed-off tone Rosa had spoken in, I didn’t want to mention it ever again. Without parents who’d chosen me, chosen to live with their daughter, I’d always struggled with a hollow sense of belonging. Of identity. Of companionship. Being raised by aloof Rosa hadn’t aided in that depressive conviction of unworthiness, but if I’d had an adoptive dad, someone else to count on…would it have been any different? Would Scott have wanted me around?

  “You okay in there?”

  I flinched at Luke’s voice and shook my head, snapping out of my reverie. My hair was already drying and frizzing at the ends, I’d been zoning out that long. As I rubbed the towel over my head once more, I went to the door.

  He’d returned to the bed, still dressed and sitting on top of the covers. When I came closer to his side, he rolled his head on the frame to look at me. I hadn’t changed my attire and didn’t even have any makeup that I could have used to alter my face. With the heavy, thrilling excitement I felt as he dragged his stare up and down me, it seemed like I’d returned as a whole new woman. A sexy one he lusted for.

  “Well?” I said, needing to speak to break his intense once-over.

  He leaned over and scooted to the edge of the bed. At his seated height, we were almost eye level and his brown gaze never strayed from my eyes as he lifted a hand. The backs of his fingers brushed against my cheek as he stroked down and pinched my drying hair between his thumb and finger. A faint rub tugged at my scalp as he felt my hair, and his chest rose and fell in a thrust, as though he was holding back a groan. I faltered in my stance, as though my body knew it needed to be on him, over him…

  Sweet Jesus.

  Without a word, he suddenly sat back. Then he nodded and crossed his legs.

  “Yes?” I asked. What did that nod mean?

  “Yes,” he said.

  Okay. Yes…it would work? I’d not be as noticeable?

  “Looks good.”

  The way he had yet to cease eyeing me con
fused me. Good as in nice job with a disguise, or that I looked good? Oh, God. If he was anywhere near interested in me, how were we supposed to share a bed now? Lie on opposite sides and hope we didn’t accidentally catch the sheets on fire from the tension sparking between us? Because if he was just now expressing desire in me—

  No. Wait. He bit me this morning. It felt like forever ago, but he’d already proven he’d wanted me. Or had kinky ways to wake up people.

  How many women did he wake up next to?

  How can we both fit on this little bed and not touch? A double mattress was more than enough for me, but with him lounging there, it seemed as spacious as a camping cot.

  “Thanks?” I hurried to sit on the other side, again without making eye contact.

  “Go ahead and get some rest.”

  Right. Because I don’t want you right now? Because I don’t need you to change a thing to know you look good?

  Rest—easier said than done.

  Still, I climbed under the covers and turned on my side, hiding my face from him. Jesus. One look from him and a quasi-comment? And I was this horny for him? Thank God I hadn’t had to field any real flirting from him. I’d detonate.

  As I lay there and listened to his steady breaths, it took all of my mental power to seek some kind of calm. Envisioning what he would do if I’d roll over to him, preoccupied with my conscience. With a few more moments of lazy fantasizing about the impossible, I drifted closer and closer to sleep without a worry demanding a bout of insomnia.

  ****

  I woke to the sounds of soft grunts. They came in a set pace along with a series of flesh rubbing against something. Blinking, I sat up and surveyed the room.

  Luke lay on the ground, his knees bent and legs raised. In a swift downward stroke, he lowered his torso to the tiled floor, and then steadily rose.

  I didn’t know if he was aware I’d woken, and I didn’t really care. Content to watch him do sit-up after sit-up, I waited for him to be done. There was no other wait I’d enjoyed as much. He’d taken his shirt off, presenting me an unhindered front-row seat to how his abs contracted and rippled with movement, how his arms flexed with each rep.