B007GFGTIY EBOK (19 page)

“No. Just a civilian.” Beckerman adjusted the side mirror to follow the man’s progress. When he was satisfied, he clicked the safety back on the automatic, but kept the weapon handy.

“Rebecca Fallon worries me,” Beckerman said. “I could have taken her at the same time as Fuller.”

“No, I’ve told you Fallon and Duke are our checks and balances. They tell me if we’re too exposed.”

“I don’t like it. They keep asking questions—finding things out. She pumped Fuller’s wife for information and they both met with Fuller.”

“But do they know enough to harm us?”

“Not yet, but they will. They need to be removed from our equation.”

Lockhart knew Beckerman was right, but killing Hayden and Rebecca would create a new problem. They were very much under the watchful gaze of the police. Their deaths would be investigated.

“No, I have something else in store for them. Our clients have requested a demonstration. Can you put something together to make that happen? It has to be a public demonstration.”

Beckerman tensed. “There’s a risk of civilian casualties.”

“Not if you do it right.” Lockhart said, smiling. “Lighten up. I’m sure you can make it work.”

R
edwood University was hard to miss. It sat right off US 101. Hayden and Rebecca had made good time, arriving in the early afternoon. They parked and approached the reception desk in the main entrance. It was manned by a young woman whose severe hairstyle and dress aged her.

“Can I help you?” she asked, smiling pleasantly.

“Yes, we’re looking for Professor Kenneth Eskdale,” Rebecca said. “We have an appointment with him.”

“Ah, you want the Science Block.” She produced a campus map from behind the reception desk and pointed out the area on it. “You’ll find Professor Eskdale in room two-two-three.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said.

They were turning to leave when the receptionist said, “That’s strange, though.”

“What’s strange?” Hayden asked, turning back.

“Professor Eskdale rarely has visitors.” Conspiratorially, she glanced to her left, then right. “He likes to keep to himself. He has too much going on upstairs to be bothered with the rest of the world, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.” Hayden took Rebecca’s arm and led her outside before they raised any more suspicions.

Hayden and Rebecca took a series of weaving paths between the various campus blocks. Spanish missions had influenced the architecture, giving the place character. Landscaped lawns and trees filled the gaps between the buildings. The campus’s tranquil feel helped calm Hayden’s nerves. He and Rebecca had a plan for dealing with Eskdale, but he had no idea if it would work.

They found the Science Block, which was located near the center of the campus and a long way from where they’d parked. It didn’t bode well for a clean getaway should they need it.

They climbed the steps to the second floor. Hayden knocked on the door with Eskdale’s name and room number stenciled on the frosted glass. Opposite Eskdale’s room, a class was in full swing and the lecturer was scribbling furiously on the whiteboard.

No one replied.

Hayden tried the door handle, but it was locked.

“Let’s try the secretary’s office,” Rebecca suggested.

Two doors down, they found the secretary in a pigeonhole-shaped office. No leggy blonde for Professor Eskdale; his secretary was small, silver-haired, and had to be close to retirement. The office was so small that a single occupant overcrowded it, let alone three. For the sake of not taking all the oxygen in the room, they remained in the doorway.

“Hi, we were looking for Professor Eskdale, but his office is locked,” Hayden said.

“You won’t find him there,” she said with a smile. “He’s teaching.”

“Oh. We have an appointment with him.”

“We’re just a little bit early,” Rebecca explained.

“Oh yes? What are your names?” The secretary started flicking through a diary.

“Rebecca Fallon and Hayden Duke,” Rebecca said.

“Well, he doesn’t have your names down for today.”

Hayden thought fast, but Rebecca beat him to the punch.

“We spoke to him last night. It was very short notice, I’m afraid.”

“What time was he expecting you?” she asked.

“Two,” Hayden said.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t have a free period until three.”

Hayden started backing out into the corridor. “We’ll come back at three. Don’t worry about telling the professor. I don’t want him to know we turned up an hour early. We are supposed to be graduate students after all. Thanks. We’ll be back later.”

He caught Rebecca’s arm and pulled her away. He turned his back on the secretary before she had the chance to memorize their appearance. They hurried back to the stairs. The secretary stood in the doorway of her office watching them. Thankfully, she didn’t follow them.

“What do we do now?” Rebecca asked.

“Come back at three.”

“What if she tells him about us?”

“There’s nothing to tell. A couple of students tried to gate-crash a professor’s office. Big deal.”

Rebecca frowned.

“But, to make sure, we’ll come back before three and beat her to it.” Hayden smiled. “Or just beat her.”

“Come on, let’s see if we can’t find a hideout,” Rebecca said, laughing and taking his hand.

They took refuge in a café on the top floor of the student center, which was next to the campus bookstore. The café was about to close, but Hayden talked them into staying open five more minutes. They bought sandwiches and sodas and took their food out to the quad.

Hayden bit into his sandwich. It was a cut above the usual college fare. It took him a couple of bites before he noticed Rebecca’s silence. As she ate her sandwich, her gaze never left the ground. There was sadness in her expression. It pained him to see it.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Hayden said.

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“That’s good. I would hate for you to be a dumb blonde.”

“Ha, ha,” she said, smiling.

Hayden liked that he’d washed away her melancholy so easily. He grinned. “What were you thinking about?”

“What happens to us when this is over?”

“Us?”

The subject of
us
hadn’t been mentioned until now. Ever since their interrupted kiss, Hayden had chosen not to broach the subject for fear of rejection. Their clandestine meeting with Fuller had made for a convenient distraction, and he’d placed the subject firmly on the back burner, although thoughts of
us
regularly came to mind.

“I feel we’ve gotten close over the last couple of weeks. It’s weird, but it feels longer. I would like to get to know you better.” Rebecca broke her gaze with Hayden and stared at the table. She blushed. “I would hate to lose contact.”

“So would I.” It was Hayden’s turn to be embarrassed. “I feel the same way.”

She leaned across the table and touched his face, her hand brushing his cheek. It was cool against his hot skin. He reveled in her touch, but he tried not to show it. She smiled brightly and took her hand away. He felt like the cat that had all the cream and he wanted to purr. That was until she showed him what she’d wiped from his face.

“Tomato,” she said.

Hayden’s face got hotter.

Hayden and Rebecca retraced their steps back to Eskdale’s office, arriving at five minutes to three. The secretary’s office was empty. The lights were out and the doors were locked. Hayden checked with a jiggle of the doorknob. She was either on a lunch break or was a part-time worker. Hayden hoped for the latter.

On Eskdale’s door, a yellow Post-it note obscured the professor’s name.

“Prof. Eskdale, you had two visitors who didn’t have an appointment. They seemed odd. Their names were Rebecca Fallon & Hayden Duke. Hope this means something to you? See you tomorrow. Alice.”

Hayden jerked the Post-it from the door, screwed it up, and stuffed it in his pocket. “We don’t need a letter of introduction.”

“Can I help you?” a voice said.

Hayden turned to see a man in his fifties approaching them. The word that sprang to mind was
rat
. The man looked like one. He had large ears and an untidy mess of yellowing teeth. Beady eyes were hidden behind wire-rimmed spectacles, and his steel-gray, receding hair needed a wash. His pointed face and wispy mustache only helped accentuate the look.

“We’re looking for Professor Eskdale,” Rebecca said.

“I’m Professor Eskdale,” the rat man said.

“I’m Hayden Duke and this is Rebecca Fallon. We were wondering if we could have a few minutes of your time, professor.”

“We’re graduate students,” Rebecca added. “We wanted to pick your brain, if that’s OK?”

Eskdale shifted his briefcase from his left hand to his right, checked his watch, and frowned. “I can give you ten minutes.”

“That’s great,” Rebecca enthused.

Hayden and Rebecca stepped out of Eskdale’s way, and he unlocked the door. He stood back and allowed them in first.

Eskdale’s office was larger than Alice’s, but it couldn’t be called expansive. It had just enough room for his desk, a couple of chairs for visitors, filing cabinets, bookshelves, and a small window with a view of the campus. The office would have seemed larger if it weren’t so cluttered. It didn’t look as though Eskdale ever put anything away—errant papers littered the room. Rebecca had to move a sheaf of papers to sit, which Eskdale took from her and relocated to another temporary home.

“Take a seat,” he said. “Well, I know you’re not from this establishment. So where are you from?”

“Stanford,” Rebecca responded, from their prearranged script.

“Stanford.” Eskdale nodded approvingly. “Good school, good school. Long trip, though.”

“Yes.” Rebecca smiled and glanced at Hayden.

Eskdale made himself comfortable, putting his briefcase down by his chair and setting aside the paperwork on his desk.

“So what brings you to me?”

“Molecular biology,” Hayden replied.

“Good. The world needs good molecular biologists.”

This was where things might start getting sticky. Hayden knew nothing about molecular biology, and Rebecca was in the same boat. Hayden’s knowledge came from what he’d learned in school. Some biology had cropped up during his college courses, but nothing in Eskdale’s league. The best he could do was to play it by ear and if he became stuck, hit the professor with the third degree.

“So you must know McGammon and Jameson?”

Hayden assumed they were lecturers, but he wasn’t going to test his assumption. “Of course,” he said.

“Good teachers, don’t you think?” Eskdale said.

Hayden felt his pulse accelerate. He felt like he was defusing a bomb. Everything that was said brought him either one step closer to success or to the whole thing blowing up in his face.

“The best,” Hayden said.

“A shame McGammon is retiring.”

“Yes. Next summer,” Rebecca said.

“The summer you say?”

Hayden’s heart skipped a beat.

“I thought it was Easter. But you would know best.”

“A shame to see him go,” Hayden said.

“Yes, but at least his knowledge and experience is carried over to the next generation.” Eskdale spread his arms toward Hayden and Rebecca and smiled. “Anyway, I don’t have much time. What can I help you with?”

“Career advice really,” Hayden said.

Eskdale cocked his head to one side. “Career advice?”

“Yes, our career paths,” Hayden said, indicating to Rebecca and himself, “are leading us toward a life in academia and we were wondering if that was the right path to take.”

“Teaching is a well-respected profession,” Eskdale said, and his tone took on a defensive note at any implication that he was a lesser mortal for being an educator. This worked in Hayden and Rebecca’s favor.

“Yes, but is it a well-paying profession?” Rebecca asked.

Eskdale frowned. “Sadly, the private sector will always pay better. It isn’t governed the way the education sector is. There are no limits. That doesn’t mean you can’t make a good living as a college professor. Grants and expert knowledge can bring supplemental income.”

“Expert knowledge,” Hayden said. “Does that mean consulting opportunities?”

“Yes, a number of firms have paid for my services and research.”

“That’s great,” Rebecca said. “Which firms have you worked for?”

Eskdale listed half a dozen companies, three of which were Fortune 500 firms, but he didn’t name MDE.

“Are you consulting for anyone now?” Rebecca asked.

“No. Not right now.”

Hayden caught a flicker of suspicion in Eskdale’s dark, beady eyes. He didn’t let it worry him. He knew their story wasn’t foolproof and Eskdale would see through it at some point. He and Rebecca weren’t here to probe, but to get answers. They had to reveal themselves sooner or later. It looked like sooner.

“Have you ever consulted for Marin Design Engineering?” Hayden asked.

Eskdale pressed his lips together so tight that they were drained of all color. “Who are you?”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“What do you know about Marin Design Engineering? Are you reporters?” Eskdale didn’t know what to do with his hands. They had been resting neatly on the table, but now they danced nervously across his desk, looking for a purpose they had yet to find.

“How are you involved with MDE?” Hayden demanded. “Did Trevor Bellis hire you?”

“I’m not involved with them.”

“Why would you be concerned about reporters if you have no involvement with them?” Rebecca asked.

The question put Eskdale on the ropes. He’d left himself nowhere to go.

“Sundip Chaudhary, Shane Fallon, Malcolm Fuller—do you know any of these men, professor?” Hayden asked.

“They’re dead,” Rebecca said. “Along with many others. Why are these people killing themselves?”

Eskdale was alight with panic. His hands trembled and his body shook. He knew he’d been caught.

“Who are you people?”

“Survivors,” Hayden said. “MDE is gone. Everyone is dead, except for us. We want to know why.”

“Get out,” Eskdale said. It sounded more like a plea than an order. Even he realized how ineffectual he sounded and he repeated himself, this time with more command in his tone.

Hayden produced a folded MDE drawing from his jacket and threw it on Eskdale’s desk. With fevered hands, the professor unfolded the drawing and scanned the details. He looked up, and his frightened eyes darted from Hayden to Rebecca.