Stephenie Meyer - The Chemist

“It’s got to be the same thing. The timing’s right. We get some info about this virus, suddenly they start watching me and Barnaby. Two years later – around the time de la Fuentes got his hands on it, right? – they murder Barnaby. That has to be the catalyst. That’s why they killed him and tried to kill me. Because the virus was out there again, and if the public found out, we knew something that could connect it back…”

Barnaby had never told her what had triggered his paranoia, why he’d decided they needed to be ready to flee. She looked at the letters on her screen. DH, Dominic Haugen. It was unlikely that the bad guys would leave Haugen alive if they’d felt the need to erase her and Barnaby. Had Haugen been the first to die? Probably in some totally normal, expected way. Car accident. Heart attack. There were so many methods to make it look innocent. Had Barnaby seen some notice of Haugen’s death? Had that been the tip-off?

She wanted to do a quick search online, but if she was right about this, then Haugen’s name was sure to be flagged. Anyone inquiring into his death – no matter how anonymous the method – would be noticed.

Who was the P? She couldn’t even be positive she had that letter right. It had been a fleeting mention. Something short, she thought, something snappy…

“Ollie, the packaging… it looked… professional? Is that the right word? It wasn’t something put together in a makeshift lab somewhere in the Middle East.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“I always thought it was a stretch,” she murmured. “That someone could actually fabricate the virus from nothing more than Haugen’s theoretical design. It seemed the equivalent of winning the terrorist lottery.”

“You think they stole more than notes?”

“Haugen must have done it – actually created the thing. If there was a supply that large, if the vaccine was packaged up so neatly… they must have been producing it. So working on weaponized viruses wasn’t just Haugen’s weekend hobby. It was a military project. There were hints of that… something about a lieutenant general’s involvement. No one wanted to follow up on the American side of things. They kept us focused on the cell. Usually they let us ask the questions that naturally followed… but I remember, this was different. Carston fed me the questions he wanted.”

“So we got burned on the same case,” Kevin said darkly.

“I don’t believe in that big a coincidence.”

“Neither do I.”

“Who are they protecting?” Alex wondered. “Whoever it is, he’s got to be calling the shots. Which means he knows about both of us.”

“Which means we’ve got to get to him, too.”

They stared at each other again.

“Alex? Kev? Guys? Is this place soundproofed?”

Alex looked up slowly, her eyes not totally focusing on Daniel walking through the doorway.

“Is something wrong?” Daniel asked in a quieter tone as he took in the tableau. He hurried to the bed and put one hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“Just putting a few things together,” Kevin said grimly.

Daniel looked to Alex.

“We need to add another name to our list,” she told him.

“Who?”

“That’s the problem,” Kevin said.

“Let me think,” Alex said. “If I didn’t know the answer to that question, they wouldn’t be trying to kill me.” She glanced up at Kevin. “I know this is incredibly nonspecific, but did you ever hear a name beginning with a P involved with this on your end?”

“A P? I’ll have to think about it, but not offhand. I’ll go through Deavers’s calls again, see if I can turn anything up.”

“I’ll work on it while I go through the Carston stuff.”

Kevin nodded, then looked at Daniel. “I hope you came in here because there’s some food ready. Got to feed Ollie’s big brain so she can figure this out.”

They set their computers up on the big kitchen island and started into it while they ate. Val and Einstein hadn’t moved, but they were watching the shopping channel now. Daniel pulled a stool up beside Alex and looked on as she scanned through the video of the front of Carston’s very respectable-looking town house. She fast-forwarded through the downtime when no one was in residence, simultaneously listening to Carston’s phone calls on her earbuds. Carston was careful – his work conversations were vague, never naming any person or project specifically, and since the office calls were recorded on an exterior microphone, she could only hear his side. He used so many pronouns it was impossible to follow. She could tell only that there were a few hes and hims that were getting on Carston’s nerves in a bad way and that at least one project was not going well. He sounded stressed. That could have been because of what happened in Texas and the e-mail to Deavers. Did Carston feel in danger? Did he think Kevin knew about him? He would have to play it safe, just in case. Carston didn’t get to where he was now by not being paranoid enough.

His house had an alarm system, ornamental bars on the first-floor windows, and exterior cameras. Some of the footage Kevin gave her appeared to be from those cameras – he must have hacked into the system. The street wasn’t ideal – lots of close neighbors, lots of activity on the street both morning and night. A plethora of witnesses.

“You have to break into that? ” Daniel muttered as she pulled up yet another camera angle of the barred windows.

“Hopefully not.”

Alex pointed to the small woman who was walking up the front stairs. She had several paper grocery bags weighing her down as she stuck her key in the door and unlocked the dead bolt. From this angle, Alex could see as she paused in the doorway and punched in the code for the alarm. Her hand covered the keypad; there was no way to read the sequence.

“Housekeeper?” Daniel asked.

“Looks like. And she does his shopping.”

“Is that good?”

“It might be. If I could get a new face so I would be able to follow her around a bit.”

“What about me?” Daniel asked. “I haven’t been on the news in a while.”

“Daniel, we haven’t watched the news in a while,” she pointed out.

“Oh. You think they’re doing the bad-guy story now?”

“It’s possible. We should check it out.”

“You want the news?” Val called from the sofa in the adjacent room.

“Um, not if you’re using the TV now,” Daniel said politely.

“There’s another one in the cabinet to the left of the fridge, two over,” she told them.

Daniel walked to the indicated cupboard and pulled the door open to reveal a television screen recessed into the space. The door rolled back into a side pocket.

“Sweet,” Kevin muttered, glancing up from his own computer for half a second.

Alex went back to her research while Daniel flipped through channels until he found a twenty-four-hour news network. He set the volume low, then came back to sit with her.

Alex didn’t hear Val get up, but suddenly the blonde was leaning over her shoulder.

“That looks really dull,” she commented.

“Well, adding my mortality into the equation spices it up a bit,” Alex told her.

“Did you say you needed a new face?”

“Um, yes. See, the bruises and bandages make me too memorable.”

“And being memorable isn’t a good thing in your case?”

“No.”

“I could do that.”

“Huh?” Alex asked.

“Give you a new face.”

Alex turned to give Val her full attention. “What do you mean?”

“This would be easier if you’d stop trying to do two things at once,” Val complained.