The Proteus Cure (16 page)

The DNA test, though … what could he do about that?

He had to stop Sheila without resorting to Shen. He didn’t want her to end up like Kelly Slade.

And then in a flash he had it: the perfect solution. And like so many perfect solutions, as simple as it was elegant. He clicked a series of numbers into his computer and waited. The KB drive opened and he put in yet another password. There they were. He typed in Coogan’s name and a serial number came up. Bill wrote it down and logged off the computer. He had a call to make. He could do this without Mama’s permission but she hated being out of the loop.

After half an hour of plowing through the KB26 hits on the Tethys system, Sheila switched to the Internet. She found nothing beyond a few mentions in personal web sites and Facebook thanking God and Tethys and whoever developed KB26 for curing them or someone in their family.

Whoever developed KB26 …

Good question. Who
had
developed it?

But Sheila could find no trace of its origin.

Frustrated, she turned away from the computer and reached for the patient files she’d planned to read over. Might as well return them if they were going to remain unread. They were gone.

Oh God, not again.

She sifted through everything on the desk. Damn. Where had she last seen them? But she drew a blank. Her memory was shot to hell lately.

Corporate espionage? Were they now taking her files? No. Couldn’t be. Stop it, Sheila. You’re making yourself crazy. Take a deep breath.

But it didn’t calm her. Her hands were shaking, her heart pounding, and she was afraid. She was
not
being paranoid. Her files were gone. All of them and they’d been right on her—

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted her bag. There they were. Tucked in the bag. That’s right. She
hadn’t
taken them out.

Mother of God, I am losing it.

She shut off her computer, grabbed her bag, and left.

When she reached Bill’s office, Marge was nowhere in sight. Sheila breezed past her desk and was about to push on Bill’s door when she heard his voice through the opening. He sounded agitated.

“—problems are not going to work themselves out,” he was saying.

He paused but Sheila heard no reply. Must be on the phone. She might have stepped inside anyway if not for his exasperated tone.

“Right,” he went on. “That’s why I need to play fireman and stay on top of things.”

Another listening pause, then …

“Believe me, I don’t like taking liberties with someone’s privacy either, but all of Proteus could be on the line here. It’s why we keep them here. Just for such an occasion.”

A pause …

“Well, if you know of a more ethically pure way to protect it, tell me now.”

Another pause …

“I didn’t think so. So until we come up with something better, this is what we’re left with. Okay?”

Sheila flinched when she heard the receiver slam onto its cradle.

She decided her questions could wait until he calmed down. Besides, she had to get back to her office to meet Paul and get a new sample from Coogan.

As she walked away she pondered what she’d heard. Who had he been talking to? And “Proteus”—what was that? She’d never heard of it.

She’d check back with Bill tomorrow.

But tonight … tonight she’d take a break do some Christmas shopping. Why not that mall in Salem? Shopping always took her mind off her problems. She’d feel much more relaxed tomorrow.

… voices …

Sheila opened here eyes … where was she? Cold and wet, she knew that, but where? She lifted her head and was poked by dozens of small branches.

Slowly it filtered back to her … being run off the road, the crash, wading into the river, the explosion.

She didn’t remember crawling out of the water and into this knot of thick underbrush, but she must have.

She curled into a shivering knot as her consciousness wavered again. Had to sit still … utterly still … barely breathing. This was like a nightmare. Huddled in these bushes hiding from someone out to kill her.

She held her breath as she saw a flashlight swinging back and forth on the far side of the river. Then her attention was drawn to the flashing lights on the road atop the ravine.

Police? The police were here.

She crawled out of the underbrush.

“Help!” Her voice sounded like a croak. “Over here! Help!”

•

Sheila sat in the back of the squad car and shivered despite the blanket around her and the heater blowing on high. The cops had demanded a Breathalyzer test, which of course she’d passed.

A sergeant named Frayne was driving back to the station.

“Taykamaya. How’d a redheaded little wisp of thing like you get a name like that? Never seen freckles on a Chinese person before. You sure your name ain’t Finnegan or Casey?”

She didn’t know if he was trying to lighten things up or just being obnoxious.

“Takamura. It’s Japanese, not Chinese,” she said. “It’s my married name and I don’t think being run off the road is anything to joke about.”

“Sure you weren’t on your cell phone and lost control?”

Sheila lost it then. Still soaking wet, chilled and shivering, so scared she could barely think, and this dick head doubted her?

“I did
not
lose control, goddammit! I was T-boned twice—not once,
twice
—by a dark suburban! Someone tried to kill me!”

“Okay, okay, ma’am. I’m sorry. We’ll do everything we can. I’ll take you back to the station, get a full statement, and get you some hot tea and a blanket, okay? And we’ll arrange to have a cruiser watch your house after you go home.”

Sheila leaned back. That outburst had dispelled her lingering adrenaline. Her mind gradually shifted into shock mode, quarantining some of the fear.

“We’ll check the ravine and the woods thoroughly come daybreak,” the cop said.

Fine, but what good would that do? Her car was a charred, crumpled mess and the rain would wash away any trace of evidence.

Then the question with no answer: “Is there anyone we should call for you?”

Who
could
she call?

Not Bill. What if he had something to do with this? And not Abra. What if she knew something too? Paul? She didn’t know him well enough for a desperate call like this. And certainly not in the middle of the night.

She had no one else. A tear rolled down her cheek. Husband dead … folks gone …

No. No one to call.

No one to lean on. Just herself.
Alone again, naturally.
The Gilbert O’Sullivan song went through her head as it often did. Change the title Gil. Call it Sheila’s theme.

•

Home again.

After several hours and three cups of hot tea at the police station, they’d driven Sheila to the cottage and left her. She’d taken a hot shower, put on flannel PJs, and crawled into bed.

And here she huddled under the covers, tense, unable to sleep, listening to every sound, scared, chilled to the core, and more lonely then she had ever felt in her life.

Where do I go from here? What do I do?

The police thought she was crazy.

Hell, if the situation was reversed, I’d probably think the same.

A part of her wanted to run away—as fast and as far as possible. Something so appealing about that. She’d have no trouble finding a position, especially after the glowing recommendation she’d receive from Bill—he wouldn’t dare give her anything less.

But another part of her said she had to stay.

She’d been giving patients this therapy and if there was something wrong with it …

She felt her face redden with anger. If she was giving them something harmful, something Bill knew about—

Maybe Bill was keeping it from VecGen. If that were the case, she’d tell them herself. Send them a report.

She covered her face and the tears overflowed. She didn’t want to believe it could have been Bill. But who else had a reason for wanting her out of the picture?

Sun-Tzu or somebody had said: Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. That was what Sheila would do. Keep Bill close until she found out what he was hiding.

And he
was
hiding something. Someone doesn’t try to kill you if you’re barking up the wrong tree.

Sheila would stay and see this through.

Sheila walked to Tethys.

Sometime today she was going to have to rent a car, but the rain had stopped and the cold morning air had been a tonic. She arrived at Admin before sunrise. Why not? Sleep hadn’t been an option. How do you sleep after someone deliberately runs you off the road?

Another thing that had kept her awake was Bill.

He’d mentioned a VecGen competitor spying. What if
he
was the spy, getting secrets for the competitor? No, that didn’t wash. As a spy he would have encouraged her to pursue the Slade and Green cases so he could steal her findings.

All right, what if he was secretly working for VecGen? When he’d come down on her about Tanesha, he was doing more than following protocol. Almost as if he had a vested interest in VG723’s success and couldn’t let it fail, no matter who or what she presented.

Well, the hell with him. She didn’t care what he had going with VecGen, he had an ethical obligation to pursue these cases. And if he wouldn’t, she’d do it alone.

She shook her head. But Bill wouldn’t try to kill her, would he?

That certainly hadn’t been him driving the SUV. She’d seen only a silhouette, but it had been smaller than Bill. Still, somehow, some way, she sensed he was involved.

During her long, sleepless night she’d come up with a plan. She’d test Bill. Better to know than to keep looking over her shoulder.

She settled herself in her office and watched the lot. She knew Bill’s routine: coffee at home, then straight to his office to catch up on emails and voicemails, then over to the caf for more coffee.

Shortly after sunrise he arrived and entered the building.

Now … the moment of truth.

No one except the police knew about last night. It had happened too late for today’s paper. Probably show up tomorrow in the police blotter, but that would be about it.

If involved, Bill would know about the attempt on her life. His reaction when she told him would confirm or deny her suspicions. She hated the thought, but she expected confirmation.

His outer door stood open, as did the inner. She paused, shaking inside. She was far from recovered, and this test was making her even shakier.

She stepped past Marge’s desk and knocked on the inner doorframe.

Bill looked up from his desk and shot to his feet, hands against his face as if frozen into a parody of
The Scream
.

“Sheila! Dear God! It’s you! You—you’re alive!”

Oh, no. This confirmed it: It
was
him.

She forced herself to speak. “Of course I’m alive. What did you—?”

“But the police called last night and said you’d been killed in a car crash!”

Had they? She could check on that.

He rushed from behind his desk and threw his arms around her. “I’m so glad they were wrong!”

Her body stayed rigid. “You mean everyone thinks I’m dead?”

Bill shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance to tell anyone except Elise. I was going to keep a lid on it until I could tell Abra myself.” He let out a long, slow breath. “Now I won’t have to.”

For an instant Sheila sensed that he might be more relieved about not having to break the news to his sister than her being alive.

He backed off to arms’ length. “But good Lord, how on Earth did it happen?”

“Someone tried to kill me last night, Bill.” Damn the catch in her voice. “He drove me off the road on the way home from Salem.”

“
What?
” His eyes widened.

“The car flipped over and rolled into the ravine and exploded.”

His face registered shocked concern as he gripped her upper arms.

“My God! The police told me about the crash and explosion but nothing about—are you all right? What a terrible thing! But what makes you think—?”

“He rammed me
twice
, Bill. I got away—just barely.”

Bill’s jaw dropped as all the color drained from his face.

“You’re … you’re kidding, right?”

“No, Bill, I’m not. Someone wants me dead. Who can it be, Bill? Who wants me dead?”

Watching him gape and run a shaking hand through his hair as his face grew even paler, Sheila felt a burst of relief.

Popping eyes and a shocked, horrified expression could be faked. Shaking hands too. But going white involved blood draining from the facial capillaries … no way he could fake that.

“I … I don’t know,” he whispered. “I can’t imagine.” The color was still gone from his face.

Bill was genuinely shocked. So she’d been wrong: He wasn’t involved. At least not with the attempt on her life.

Disappointment tinged her relief. She hadn’t wanted Bill to be involved, but knowing he wasn’t left her even more frightened.

What had she ever done to make someone want to kill her?

“Could it be whoever bugged my phone? I mean, something’s going on here. A break-in, a bug, an attempt on my life. Someone thinks I know something but, Jesus, I don’t. If it’s a competitor, then why aren’t they after you?” She saw him flinch. “If anyone knows anything it’s you and Abra. Not me.”

He put his arms around her again.

“We’ll figure it out, Sheila. Please don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’re safe now.”

She pushed him away. “Bill, that’s not going to help. We need to figure this out. It all started when I approached you about Kelly’s case. I think someone at VecGen is trying to stop me from finding something out.”

She stared him down. By “someone” she meant him.

“Sheila, I swear to you, I know nothing about this. VecGen is a small outfit. They aren’t some huge Silicon Valley tech firm with billions of dollars in resources. I was wrong the other day when I suggested corporate espionage. I talked to Shen about the bugs and he did find several, but know what? He said they weren’t done professionally. He also said they were probably there for a long time. They weren’t even transmitting—too old. Some former employee probably placed them to eavesdrop, and then left. And as far as your break-in, the police told me they think it was a random burglary for drug money. I’ll bet your laptop or camera will show up in a pawn shop any day.”