Harlan Coben - Miracle Cure

But the retreat had worked. With absolutely nothing else to do, she and Tommy had been forced to confront their problems, to discuss Bruce's suicide, to try to make sense of their lives.

Things were not yet perfect, but at least they were on the path to normalcy. Tommy no longer blamed her for the death of his father, and that was a good thing.

Now if only I could stop blaming myself... Tommy reached down and grabbed his mother's suitcase.

"I got it, Mom," he said. His smile, so like his dead father's, tweaked her heart.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Tommy carried the suitcase to the door and turned the knob.

Why, Bruce? You were hardly the suicide type. Why kill yourself?

Why leave your son without a father?

Susan had already asked herself those questions a million times, and there had been no answer. She guessed that she would never know, that one day she would stop asking herself and move on with her life.

Why...?

They entered the apartment.

"Jennifer?" Susan called out.

"Susan? Is that you?"

"We came home a little early," Susan called back.

"The woods were starting to get to us. Anything new in the civilized world?"

Jennifer did not answer. Instead, she came out of the kitchen and faced them both. Susan was taken aback by her sister's appearance.

Jennifer's face was ashen, her eyes deep dark circles that looked as though they had not closed for weeks. Her body looked frail, her posture slumped.

In her left hand she held a white envelope.

"Jen... T' Jennifer handed Susan the envelope.

"This," she began, "came for you."

Susan took the note from her sister. She had to bite back a scream when she recognized the handwriting.

I will kill both of them in the lab.

I wish there were another way. I am not a killer. I do not enjoy it.

I loathe it. I fear it. And yet what choice do I have?

None.

My hands can't stop shaking. Everything has gone so awry. My plan should have been simple and precise. But I got fancy. I went overboard. Getting Michael involved was necessary, but I should have seen the possible problems. Now I have my back against the wall and there is only one thing I can do.

Kill again.

I feel nauseous, but I know what must be done. There is no turning back now. I have to go on. Two more lives the lives of a doctor and a beautiful woman must be sacrificed too. Then everything will settle down. Everything will fall back into place.

I must remain focused. I must remember why I am doing this. I must rid myself of sentimentality. It is hard, but I will have to perform these deeds myself. There is no George Camron to do the work for me this time. On my own hands will be the blood of the innocent man, the innocent woman, and the child within her womb.

Stop it!

I must think of the positive, of my goal, of my dream. And for Sara Lowell it may be for the best. Once Sara Lowell is dead, she mil know no more pain. I can take some solace in that. Sara Lowell is strong and has overcome obstacles before. But she has never faced an agony like the one that awaits her.

You see, I never wanted to kill any innocent people. But look at the list of names:

Bruce Grey... Janice Matley... Michael Silverman... And now I have to add two more names.

When they get to the lab.

Sara knocked.

"Come in," Harvey called out.

Sara opened the door and stepped into the office. Again, she was greeted with Harvey's tired smile.

"Hi, Sara. Hear anything from Lieutenant Bernstein?"

"Not yet. I got your message on my machine."

"Good."

"I guess you were calling about Bruce's package."

He nodded.

"Jen told you about it?"

"I spoke to her an hour ago," she replied.

"Did you get it yet?"

"It came in this morning."

"And?"

Harvey took a deep breath.

"I don't know yet, Sara. I've been going through the files for hours now and I still don't know what to think."

"Can I take a look?"

"Be my guest." He handed her a stack of files from the top of his desk.

"These are all the files from Bruce's package. Six of them."

"The six cured patients?"

He nodded.

"There were also six styrofoam containers, each containing two vials of a patient's blood. One vial was labeled A, the other B."

Her eyes scanned Trian's file and then Whitherson's.

"What's this last entry mean?"

"You mean that

"DNA. A vs. B'? I found that puzzling too."

She flipped to the back of all six files.

"It's the last entry in all six files."

"I know. I am not sure of the significance. It is all very strange.

I assume the A and B stand for the blood vials. But I canft imagine what DNA has to do with them."

Sara sat back and closed her eyes. DNA. A memory came to her like a deep, hard punch. She sprang forward suddenly, nearly shouting.

"Do you remember the Betsy Jackson murder case a couple of years ago?"

"The one where the husband murdered his wife with the butcher knife?"

She nodded.

"The case drew nationwide attention because of its use of DNA testing.

B negative blood was found at the scene the same blood type as Betsy Jackson's husband, Kevin.

But Kevin Jackson's attorneys claimed that many people had B negative blood and thus the evidence meant nothing." "I remember it now," Harvey said.

"Didn't the DNA test prove that the blood found at the scene was a perfect match with Kevin Jackson's?"

"Yes. When Jackson's attorney tried to question the validity of the test, the prosecution came back with evidence that proved DNA testing was 99.7 percent accurate."

"So what does this have to do with Bruce Grey?"

"Suppose," she continued, "that Bruce wanted to compare the two blood samples from the same patient and see if they matched."

"Why?" "I don't know," she said.

"Maybe he had some reason to believe that the blood in the vials labeled A would not match the blood in the vials labeled B. Maybe he thought that someone had tampered "

"Whoa, slow down a minute, Sara. I explained to you and Lieutenant Bernstein that there were always two of us handling the blood. It would be impossible to tamper with the blood samples."

"But there is something else to consider," Sara said.

"Eric took blood from Michael without your knowledge."

"So?"

"So he could have done it other times. Bruce could have done it too."

"To what end?"

"I'm not sure, but there has to be a connection here somehow.

First, Bruce sends himself blood samples with instructions about DNA testing. Then Eric takes a blood sample from Michael in direct defrance of your rules."

"So? You're not suggesting that Eric is somehow involved in all of this, are you?"

"I am not suggesting anything," Sara said.

"The only way to know for sure is to run a DNA test on the blood samples. Where are they now?"

"The blood specimens? They're in the lab."

"Doesn't Eric have a key to the lab?"

"Of course."

Sara felt something cold prick at the base of her neck. Her voice sounded distant, hollow.

"Is Eric at the clinic right now?"

"Yes."

"You saw him?"

"A little while ago. Why?"

She swallowed.

"Did you ask him why he took Michael's blood without your authority?"

"He said he needed it for treatment verification, that's all."

"And you believed him?"

Harvey looked at her.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Has Eric ever done anything like this before?"

Pause.

"No," Harvey said slowly.

"Never."

She stood.

"We have to get to the lab."

"Why?"

"Eric could be in there destroying the evidence."

"Evidence? Sara, what are you talking about?"

"The blood samples," she urged.