Robin Cook: Toxin

Kim climbed out first. Then he helped Tracy. Together they dashed for Tracy 's car.

"Let me drive," Kim said. He jumped behind the wheel while Tracy got into the backseat. He started the car and drove quickly out of the parking lot.

For a while they drove in silence.

"Who could have guessed it would have turned out like this," Tracy said at last. "What do you think we should do?"

"Maybe you had the right idea back there," Kim said. "Maybe we should have called the police ourselves and faced the consequences. I suppose it's not too late to turn ourselves in, although I think we should call Justin Devereau first."

"I've changed my mind," Tracy said. "I think your first instinct was correct. You'd certainly go to jail and probably me too, and it would probably be a year before there even was a trial. And then who knows what would happen? After the O.J. Simpson case I have zero confidence in the American court system. We don't have a million dollars to throw away on Johnny Cochrane or Barry Scheck."

"What are you implying?" Kim asked. He cast a quick glance at Tracy in the rearview mirror. She never failed to surprise him.

"What we talked about last night," Tracy said. "Let's go far away and deal with this mess from abroad. Someplace where the food is uncontaminated so we could continue our fight against that issue as well."

"Are you serious?" Kim asked.

"Yes, I'm serious," Tracy said.

Kim shook his head. They'd mentioned the idea and even had their passports, but he'd truly not taken it seriously. In his mind it had been more of a desperate scheme of last resort, something to consider in a worst-case scenario. Of course, thanks to the killing, he had to admit things couldn't have turned out much worse than they had.

"Of course we should call Justin." Tracy added. "He'll have some good suggestions. He always does. Maybe he'll know where we should go. There are probably some legal issues relating to extradition and all that."

"You know what I like best about the idea of us going to a foreign country?" Kim said after a few minutes of silence. He looked up to make eye contact with Tracy in the rearview mirror.

"What's that?" Tracy asked.

"That you're suggesting we do it together," Kim said.

"Well, of course," Tracy said.

"You know," Kim said. "Maybe we shouldn't have gotten divorced,"

"I have to admit the idea has crossed my mind," Tracy said.

"Maybe something good will come from all this tragedy," Kim said.

"If we did get remarried, I know we couldn't have another Becky, but it would be nice to have another child."

"You'd really want to?" Kim asked.

"I'd like to try."

Silence again reigned for a time as the former lovers struggled with their emotions.

"How long do you think we will have before the authorities catch up with us?" Tracy asked.

"It's hard to say," Kim said. "If you're asking to know how long we have before we have to make up our minds about what we're going to do, I'd say we don't have much time. I think we have to decide in twenty-four to forty-eight hours."

"At least that allows us time for Becky's services tomorrow," Tracy said, choking up all over again.

Kim felt tears arise in his own eyes with the mention of Becky's imminent funeral. Despite his best efforts to avoid facing it, Kim could no longer deny the horrible fact that his beloved daughter was gone.

"Oh, God!" Tracy whimpered. "When I close my eyes I can see the face of the man I shot. It's something I'll never be able to forget. It'll haunt me the rest of my life."

Kim wiped the tears off his check and took an uneven breath to pull himself together. "You have to concentrate on what you said back in the men's room. It was justified. If you hadn't pulled the trigger and shot him, he would surely have killed you. And then he would have killed me. You saved my life."

Tracy closed her eyes.

It was after eleven o'clock when they pulled into Tracy 's driveway and parked behind Kim's car. They were both completely drained: physically. mentally, and emotionally.

"I hope you're planning on staying here tonight," Tracy said.

"I was hoping I was still invited," Kim said.

They got out of the car. Arm-in-arm they walked up the path toward the house.

"Do you think we should call Justin tonight?" Tracy asked.

"Let's wait until morning," Kim said. "As wired as I am, I don't know whether I'll be able to sleep, but I need to try. At this point I really can't think much beyond taking a long, hot shower."

"I know what you mean," Tracy said.

They climbed onto the porch. Tracy got out her key and opened the door. She stepped inside and made way for Kim. She closed the door and locked it. Only then did her hand grope for the light switch.

"Wow, that seems bright," Kim said, squinting at the overhead light.

Tracy used the dimmer to cut the glare.

"I'm a basket case," Kim admitted. He slipped out of his Higgins and Hancock white coat and held it out at arm's length. "This thing should be burned. It's probably got E. coli plastered all over it."

"Just throw it away," Tracy said. "But it's probably best to throw it in the trash barrel outside in the back. I can only imagine what it's going to smell like in the morning." She took off her own coat and winced at the pain in her chest. Something hard had struck her just to the left of her sternum when Carlos had collided with her. At the time the pain had been so acute she'd thought she'd been stabbed.

"Are you all right?" Kim asked seeing her reaction.

Gingerly Tracy felt along the edge of her breastbone. "Is there anything that can break in here?" she asked.

"Of course," Kim said. "You could have fractured either a rib or the sternum itself."

"Oh, great!" Tracy said. "What should I do, Doctor?"

"Some ice wouldn't hurt," Kim said. "I'll get some after getting rid of this white coat."

Kim started for the back door via the kitchen. Tracy opened the hall closet and hung up her coat and kicked off her shoes. After closing the door, she started for the stairs. Halfway she suddenly froze and let out a screeching gasp.

Kim had only made it to the threshold of the kitchen when he heard Tracy 's cry. He came running back. He was relieved to discover her unharmed in the center of the front hall. She was calm, but she seemed oddly transfixed at something in the living room. Kim tried to follow her line of sight. At first he saw nothing and was perplexed. But then he too saw what she was looking at. He was equally as startled.

In the shadows of the half-darkened room was a man. He was sitting motionless in the wing chair next to the fireplace. He was dressed in a dark suit and tie. A camel-hair coat was draped carefully over the back of the chair. His legs were casually crossed.

The man reached up and turned on a floor lamp.

Tracy let out another plaintive whine. On the coffee table in plain sight and within the man's easy reach was a black automatic pistol with an attached silencer.

The man was the picture of serenity, which only made him that much more terrifying. After turning on the light, his hand returned to the armrest. His expression was stern, almost cruel.

"You have made me wait much longer than I had intended," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was angrily accusatory.

"Who are you?" Tracy asked hesitantly.

"Come in here and sit down!" he snapped.

Kim looked to his left, judging how quickly he might be able to shove Tracy behind the arched wall of the foyer and possibly out of harm's way. He didn't see how he could be quick enough especially since she'd then have to get out the front door.

Derek responded to their hesitation by snapping up the handgun and training it on them.

"Don't aggravate me further!" he warned. "This has been a bad day, and I'm in a cross mood. I'll give you two seconds to come in here and sit on the couch."