Робин Кук - Cell

Thorn stuck out his hand to Paula, who took it and shook. He then did the same with George, saying in the process: “Once again, let me apologize to you both for last night.”

Both Paula and George just nodded.

MENTAL HEALTH FACILITY

HOLLYWOOD HILLS, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

JULY 7, 2014, MONDAY, 3:15 P.M.

As promised, in less than an hour two attendants accompanied Paula and George out to a waiting black SUV. Two muscular-appearing men in black suits and short, military haircuts were in the front seat. Although Paula and George didn’t recognize the men from the previous night, they decided that they were of the same ilk, “professionals.”

As they left the facility, George was surprised to see how close they were to Laurel Canyon Boulevard. There was no sign identifying the place.

The drive home was a quiet one. Paula and George didn’t want their conversation to be overheard by their drivers, and the drivers did not speak to them or each other. The SUV pulled to the curb in front of Paula’s house, and George and Paula stepped out, still wearing the blue institutional clothing they had been given. Paula said thank you to the drivers, but there was no response.

Paula and George watched the vehicle pull away.

“They certainly aren’t going to win any personality contest,” Paula said.

“My sense is that their seriousness was a message.”

“How do you mean?”

“Thorn is letting us know that the people who used the strong-arm tactics on us last night are still in their employ.”

Paula nodded. “I bet you’re right.” She steered George to a door on the side of the house and retrieved a key from a lockbox hidden under a fake rock. They went inside.

The first thing that Paula wanted to do was inspect the front door. As it had appeared from the street, it was back on its hinges and no worse for wear. They went to the guest room and saw the unmade bed was just as they had left it.

Paula turned to George. “You can stay here in the guest room or upstairs with me. Your choice.”

“Maybe we should see how the evening progresses. This has been one hell of a stressful experience.”

“Excellent idea.”

They went upstairs to check out the second level and saw that the panel hiding the chute down to the basement was still ajar. Paula went to close it, but George stopped her. “That was one scary ride in the dark,” George said. “Maybe we should try it again.”

Paula smiled. “Another good idea!”

Like a couple of kids they slid down the chute and ended up in a tangle on the floor. It made both of them laugh, and it relieved a certain lingering tension.

Back in the kitchen area, Paula opened the refrigerator, glancing at the contents. “Not a lot in here,” she said. “What do you think we should do for dinner?”

“We could go out.”

“I think I’d rather eat in. I feel asocial. Would you mind?”

“Not at all! In fact, I’d prefer it.”

“It just means I have to go to the store.”

“I could come and help.”

“No need. You stay and relax. You could even take a swim if you’d like.”

“Actually, I need to pop over to my apartment. Since I’ll be staying here for the rest of the week, I need some clothes and all. While you’re at the store, it would be a good time for me to do it.”

“Perfect. You get your stuff while I go to the market. What would you like to eat?”

“Whatever,” George said. “As long as it is with you, I don’t care.”

Paula smiled at the compliment. “I’m not the world’s best chef. Would you mind a repeat of steaks and salad?”

“I’d be thrilled.”

“Great! Why don’t we get it out of the way right now. I’ll head off to the store, and you go back to your apartment.” She took a garage-door remote out of one of the kitchen drawers and handed it to him. “But do me a favor! Don’t be long. The idea of being alone in this house gives me the creeps.”

“I’ll make it fast.” He gave her a quick, reassuring hug and was out the door.

Before climbing behind the wheel of his Jeep, George checked the car for a GPS device. He even checked under the hood. Nothing. With the same concerns in mind about covert surveillance, he purposely left his cell phone on the edge of the garage sink. Only then did he back his car out into the alley and head toward his apartment. As he navigated L.A.’s notorious rush-hour traffic, he couldn’t help repeatedly checking around him, including the rearview mirror, to see if he was being followed. He suspected that, after this bizarre experience, paranoia was going to be his close companion for a long time coming.

At his apartment George changed out of the institutional scrubs and immediately felt better. He started organizing what he wanted to bring to Paula’s, but when he went to his closet for an overnight bag, he took down the box of Kasey’s things instead. He found her phone at the bottom. It still had a residual charge, and he turned it on and stared at the iDoc icon. It made him think about the slippery-slope issue in a very personal way. Could he really trust the Universal Resource Initiative or its parent, the Independent Payment Advisory Board, not to take advantage of “the glitch”? George thought not. It was too convenient, too tempting, too financially rewarding, and ironically, on one level, too sensible and objective to be ignored.

Carefully putting the things back in the box, he returned it to the closet and pulled out his overnight bag. Later, as he hurried out to the Jeep, he glanced at his watch. It was getting late. He had a few stops to make before he drove back to Paula’s, and he wanted to be there way before dark.

PAULA’S HOUSE

SANTA MONICA, CALIFORNIA

MONDAY, JULY 7, 2014, 7:34 P.M.

As planned, George arrived back in Santa Monica almost a half hour before sunset. He pulled into Paula’s garage alongside the Porsche, lowering the door behind him, and retrieved his phone from the edge of the sink. Inside the house, he found Paula wearing a white Turkish towel robe. She looked completely revived.

“Welcome back!” She approached him, happily smiling, pointing out a selection of fresh fruit and still unshelved groceries on the countertop. “I was very efficient while you were away, getting groceries, as you can see, and even taking a short nap before a long and very luxurious bath.” She ran her hand across his back and gave him a hug. “I feel like a different person.”

“You look wonderful,” he said. He held up his duffel bag. “I was successful as well.”

She looked him over. “I see you changed your clothes. Did you get a chance to take a shower back at your apartment?”

“No. I didn’t want to stick around there any longer than I had to.”

“Well, I think you should, to wash off that vile mental institution. It will feel great. You go up to the master bath or into the guest suite, whatever your druthers, and indulge! I’m going to do a little more work here on dinner. We can eat as soon as you finish.”

“I think I’ll head into the guest suite,” George said. Handling Kasey’s things had affected him negatively on some level, more deeply than he had expected.

George did enjoy the shower. He stood motionless under the warm, massaging spray for a good ten minutes. Putting on his robe, he started back toward the kitchen. He certainly felt better than he had in several days.

Paula had the dinner completely under control. Even the barbecue was ready.

“Well, how about I open the wine?” he offered, holding up the bottle she had already selected.

“Yes! Do!”

Five minutes later they were sitting outside, watching the grill as evening turned into night. George sipped his wine. What a life! For the moment he couldn’t imagine being more relaxed. Over the last forty-eight hours his life had been a roller coaster, but at the moment he was at the pinnacle.