Stephenie Meyer - The Chemist

“That’s a brilliant idea. That makes me feel better.” Her positive words didn’t match her expression.

Val reached out with one bare foot and stroked it along Einstein’s back. His tail thumped once against the marble floor, but without much enthusiasm.

“Okay,” Val said in a brighter voice. “You’re done. I’ll throw on my things, and we’re off.”

While Val disappeared into the closet, Alex checked out her face. Val had done another excellent job. Alex looked pretty, but not flashy. The hair was obviously hers, which was important; she would definitely be scrutinized tonight, and a wig would be the most obvious tell. She looked more or less credible for the role she’d chosen. Of course, she’d feel more comfortable with no makeup at all – in her experience, that was the way people in this specific role presented themselves, without fuss or vanity. But that was just baggage from her past.

She knelt down on the floor beside Einstein. He looked up at her with eyes that were unmistakably pleading. She stroked his muzzle, then rubbed his ears.

“I’ll do everything I can,” she promised. “I won’t come back without him. If I screw this up, Val will take care of you. It will be okay.”

Einstein’s eyes didn’t change. They accepted no excuses or consolation prizes. They just begged.

“I’ll try, ” she vowed. She laid her forehead against his ear for just a moment. Then, with a sigh, she got to her feet. Einstein put his head on his paws and huffed out his own sigh.

“Val?” Alex called.

“Two seconds,” Val called back. Her voice sounded far away, like she was at the other end of a football field. This bathroom was nice – like the bathroom in a fancy hotel suite – but not insane like Val’s other place. Maybe the excess here was saved for the closet.

She heard Val shut the closet door and glanced up; she felt a brief jolt of shock at the change, then nodded.

“That looks about right,” she approved.

“Thanks,” Val replied. “Some parts of being a spy I could handle.”

The outfit Val was wearing was not inconspicuous. She had on a long flowy dress kind of thing that covered her from chin to wrist to floor, similar to a sari, but with more coverage; it had scarf-like pieces that cascaded around her, obscuring the shape of her body. It looked like something straight off an avant-garde runway, and probably was. It was memorable. But from behind, all you could see about her body was that she was tall. She wore a thick, dark wig with corkscrew curls that jutted out wildly in every direction. It, too, called attention at the same time that it obscured the shape of her head and covered parts of her face. With the wide-framed black sunglasses she held in her hand, she would be well hidden.

“Shall we?” Val asked.

Alex took a deep breath and nodded.

Alex parked Val’s tacky green Jaguar at a meter on the hill overlooking a large, dingy-gray concrete office block. Val had insisted on the green car – a gift from another admirer, naturally. It was the one, she said, that she wouldn’t miss if she had to submerge it in a lake.

From this angle, Alex could see the entrance to the underground parking garage. It was kind of sad, actually, that Carston had never moved to a better office. Maybe he liked the depressing surroundings. Maybe it seemed appropriate to the job and he liked things to conform. Making things easier for Alex had probably not been on his agenda, but it was nice it had worked out this way.

She and Val sat in the Jag for more than an hour, Val getting out to feed the meter once. They didn’t talk; Alex’s mind was miles away, working overtime to think through the flaws in her plan and try to fix them insofar as that was possible. There was so much that had to be left up to chance; she hated chance.

Alex imagined Val’s mind was in Beijing. It was a good place to run to. Val might even be safe there. Alex wished she and Daniel were getting on a plane to Beijing right now.

Daniel probably wasn’t enjoying the wait any more than she was. He’d be at the park now, nothing to fill his time until Alex arrived, no way to know what was happening. At least she had Val to sit with, even if neither of them was very good company at the moment.

Finally there was movement below, and she sat up straighter. The white-and-red-striped arm at the mouth of the garage was rising to let someone out. The last two alarms had both been delivery trucks, but this time a dark sedan was pulling out of the garage. Alex started the engine and rolled out onto the street. Someone honked behind her, but she didn’t spare him a glance. She didn’t take her eyes off the car. From this distance, it appeared to match Carston’s black BMW. It was only just after four o’clock now, not quite time for government employees to be heading out.

Here was the first big chance. Once Erin Carston-Boyd was sure her daughter was missing, she would have called her father in a panic. Right? She knew he had some kind of important government job. She would consider him powerful and capable. She wouldn’t rely on just the police with her daughter kidnapped. Should it have taken this long? When Alex had last been able to check, no call had come and Carston was still in his office. Managing Kevin’s interrogation, no doubt.

She thought he would head to his daughter’s side. It seemed the only response. But what if Carston had other options? What if he sent a special ops team instead? Was he that cold? If he had to be… probably yes.

But surely Deavers could manage the interrogation by himself for a few hours. Right?

Alex’s driving was much more offensive than defensive as she weaved her way forward, refusing to stop for even the pinkest of yellow lights. She knew the two best routes from Carston’s office to the zoo, where she assumed Erin’s call had come from. Would the terrified mother leave the last place she’d seen her daughter before she was positive the child wasn’t hiding somewhere in the foliage? If the call came from a police station, of which there were several possible options, Carston could take a number of different routes.

So many things left to chance.

The BMW was heading down the correct street, the one she would have chosen as the quickest route to the zoo. He was driving a little erratically as well. She carefully moved up from behind two other cars. She didn’t want to spook him.

It was the right car. The plates matched. It looked like the back of Carston’s mostly bald head.

Alex watched for eyes in the rearview mirror, but he seemed to be focused on the road. She maneuvered into the parallel lane.

She supposed she should feel better that this part was going according to plan. But it felt like someone was drilling a wide hole into the bottom of her stomach; she thought she might gag as she pulled alongside his car. Because if this part worked, that meant she had to go forward with the rest of the plan.

The light turned yellow ahead. Cars streamed through, but Carston was slowing. He knew he was too far back to make it. The car in front of him braked, too. Alex could have pulled up to the line in her lane – the car in front of her had turned right. Instead, she stopped directly beside Carston.

She waved, her face pointed straight toward his profile. The motion was deliberately large, meant to catch his peripheral vision.

Carston glanced over automatically at the movement, his mind clearly far away, worry making a crinkled mess of his forehead. It took him a second to realize what he was seeing. In that instant of shock, before he could smash down the accelerator, pull a gun, or dial a number, she held up the phone in her hand. She had the image zoomed in on the girl’s sleeping face.