His eyes were particularly bright, she thought. And though he wasn’t using words, he was communicating with them, loud and clear.
She nodded over his shoulder.
Together, they went wordlessly down the front of the house, passing by those guards, entering her study. As she closed them in together, she hit a button on the wall, her fingerprint the code to activate the lockdown: All at once, panels descended over the bulletproof windows and a locking mechanism dead-bolted the steel-reinforced door.
“Fancy,” he murmured as he went over to the chair on the other side of her desk. As she sat down across from him, he nodded at her fleece. “Nice clothes.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
Daniel tilted his head. “I’m serious. You look younger. You know, less like a battle-ax.”
C.P. opened her mouth. Closed it. Then laughed a little. “I wasn’t aware that was the impression I made.”
“Bullshit.” The guy smiled back. “And it’s a successful set of armor. You could totally be on the Game of Thrones prequel.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“So you know a guy named Gunnar Rhobes.”
Ah, yes, C.P. thought. Here we are.
“I’ve heard of him,” she said smoothly.
“Yeah, I was thinking that you people”—he moved his hand around—“who play at this undercover-lab game know each other. No one starts out running medical research under the radar. You all had to begin somewhere legit.”
“This is true.”
“Gunnar Rhobes was on our agency’s list as a target.”
She didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “Was he.”
“Yeah, and his lab in Tuttle, Pennsylvania, had a little accident the day before yesterday.”
C.P. thought back to being in Houston, in that skyscraper of Gunnar’s… all those suits running down to the conference room.
“What kind of accident,” she asked.
“It was bombed out of existence.” Daniel made a starburst with one of his hands. “Boom! Someone blew it up.”
C.P. sat forward. “Did your organization do it?”
“I don’t know. I back-ended the F.B.G. database using a sign-in that was still live—and don’t worry, I covered my tracks even with your virtual server. Anyway, there were ops notes on the site from the spring. Another squad, other than mine, was working on the project. Maybe it took them six months to get it done, although usually things moved faster than that.”
“It could have been terrorism. Or someone from the inside.”
“Whatever the case, it’s gone and that’s irrefutable. Local sources are saying there was an earthquake radiating out from the area and a sinkhole opened up. It was all over the morning news. Law enforcement aren’t doing shit at the site, which leads me to believe they were bought off pretty quick.”
C.P. thought about Gunnar Rhobes. And everything she knew he was capable of.
Would he blame her somehow?
“So,” Daniel murmured. “You want to clue me in on exactly how well you know that guy and his company?”
She frowned and shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
“Listen, if it’s a case of you’ll-have-to-kill-me-if-you-tell-me?” The guy pointed to his lungs. “Nailed it on the dead part already—so you might as well get talking.”
C.P. smiled again. “You’re not supposed to be making me laugh.”
“Oh, I don’t have any sense of humor. I told Lydia that right when I met her—even gave her my uncle’s suck-ass knock-knock joke to prove it. I did do one good joke tonight, though. Thought it was a trend. It wasn’t.”
“You know,” she murmured as she regarded him with a tilt of her head, “you really do look better all of a sudden.”
“Gus is a miracle worker.” There was a pause. “Hey, I’m sorry I flaked out on you, and your drug trial—”
“Oh, do not apologize.” She put up a hand. “There is nothing more personal than health care decisions. You’ve got to do what’s best for you. That’s what really matters.”
The man sat forward and put his elbows on her desk. “Talk to me about Gunnar. You might as well. Something tells me you don’t talk to anybody.”
Later, she would wonder why she opened up. But then again, they shared a big commonality, even if she was the only one who knew it.
“I’m selling Vita-12b.”
Daniel got very still. “And Gunnar is one of your potential buyers.”
“You’re quick. And he hasn’t made an offer—just a bunch of posturing.”
“You’ve got a very narrow market, haven’t you. Few will know what to do with it—or have what is required to continue your work.” Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you dumping the compound? Does Gus know?”
“He does. As for the sale? That’s complicated.”
“And…?”
“It’s the right thing to do.” She frowned and opened her middle desk drawer. “Hey, would you mind if I have you witness something? You’re just attesting that you’ve seen me sign it.”
“Sure. Happy to.”
She took out a sheath of documents that represented a good ten or fifteen hours’ worth of legal work. Flipping through to the last couple of pages, she gripped a blue pen.
“Smile at the camera,” she murmured.
As Daniel gave a wave up to the corner behind her, she drew her name, slowly and carefully, on her signature line. Then she dated her John Hancock, gave Daniel the pen, and shifted the document around.
Daniel flexed his hand. “The shaking is better. Gus told me the side effects would leave quick, but I didn’t believe him.”
“He knows what he’s talking about.” Abruptly, she nodded down at the desktop. “You’re not asking what the document is about.”
“Not my business.” He pointed to the text below where he was signing. “I’m just a witness. The only thing I gotta worry about is that I saw you sign whatever the hell this is, and I did.” He passed the papers back to her. “No notary.”
“I’m going to take care of that.” She pointed over her shoulder. “We have both our parts on video.”
“Sure enough do.” Daniel sat back. “Any chance I just witnessed you selling Gus’s drug out from under him?”
“I thought you didn’t care what the papers were for.”
“Just kidding.”
C.P. smiled for the third time—and wondered what the hell was wrong with her. “You do not kid, Daniel Joseph.”
“Ah, but I’m trying to turn over a new leaf. I’m running out of time for self-improvement, you know. Winter is coming, so if I’m going to do any kind of evolving, I better get to it.”
C.P. tapped the documents and lied. “It’s a DNR, actually.”
Daniel’s brows went up. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Do. Not. Resuscitate.”
“Yeah, I know what the initials stand for. You planning on dying sometime soon there, C.P.?”
The words were spoken lightly, but his eyes were intense.