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“So I thought: fruit.”

“I thought that was what you didn’t want people to think…you know.”

“You’re a funny man. Anyway, I thought fruit, and you like oranges, so I got you oranges.”

Terry frowned. “I like orange juice.”

“Then get someone to squeeze them for you.”

“Did you check my messages?”

Oscar’s grin slipped. “She hasn’t called.” Then he qualified his statement to put a more positive spin on it. “Not saying she hasn’t, but she hasn’t left a message. And if she’s as spooked as you say she is, I doubt she would risk a message.”

Terry dropped his gaze to examine the weave on the blanket.

“You know you can’t keep protecting her,” Oscar said.

Terry nodded. “I know. I told her that Holman knows that she’s not missing anymore.”

“What did she say?”

“Not a lot. It was all I could do to keep her on the line. She doesn’t want to talk to me until everything is safe.”

“She give you any clue as to what this is all about?”

Terry shook his head. “That’s what she was going to tell me when we met.”

“And you don’t have her number, I suppose?”

Terry shook his head again.

“You’re gonna have to wait until she calls again. There’s nothing else you can do.”

Terry knew Oscar was right. He hoped he hadn’t blown his chance and she would call back.

“She’ll call,” Oscar said.

“What makes you say that?”

“She’ll be scared. Worried that they’ve gotten to you.”

“They nearly did.”

“So she’ll keep trying until she hears otherwise.”

Oscar dug out an orange from the paper sack. He gnawed off a chunk of the peel, spat the rind into his hand, then dropped it on the bed before proceeding to gnaw off another piece.

“You’re a class act, do you know that?” Terry said.

“What?”

“You’ve been divorced too long.” Terry tossed him the saucer that his water jug sat on. “Put your mess on that.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Oscar said, doing as he was told. “So this freezer thing, you sure you didn’t forget to use the wedge?”

“Someone tried to kill me. There’s no way I would go into that freezer without propping that door open. It’s a death trap. I have no idea how Genavax is allowed to get away with such a feeble safety device.”

“They won’t now. Cal/OSHA will be involved.”

Oscar broke open his orange and tore off a segment. Juice sprayed everywhere, some of it landing on his pants, but most of it splashed the covers.

“It’s going to smell like a fruit stand in here.”

“Don’t be such a girl. It’s only a bit of juice.” Oscar popped the orange segment into his mouth. He spoke while chewing. “You gonna tell Holman what happened?”

“No. I’m quite happy for everyone to think it was an accident.” He tossed a box of Kleenex at Oscar to clean his face. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Thanks.” Oscar wiped his chin. “Why do you want people thinking it was an accident?”

“Genavax did this to me. I want to see what its next move is.”

Oscar pointed an orange segment at Terry. “Probably to do a better job of things next time.”

Terry shrugged.

“Do you think Genavax killed those five women?”

It was a question Terry had been recycling for several days, but he hadn’t been able to make any kind of connection other than Myda Perez. The other four women didn’t seem to have any connection to Genavax. Terry had discarded the idea, but the attempt on his life changed things.

“I don’t know,” Terry said. “I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

Oscar chewed and swallowed. He hadn’t given the slice of orange the requisite thirty-two chews before swallowing, judging by the strangled look on his face. “Okay, this is a wild one, but what if Genavax didn’t try to off you in that freezer? You’ve got to admit it, it’s pretty stupid to try to whack someone in your own backyard. Have you considered someone else?”

A name sprang to mind.

“Tom Degrasse.”

“The TV guy?”

Terry nodded. He went on to explain the meal he’d had with the television reporter at Rendezvous and the queasy feeling he’d been left with.

“So he and Sarah had a thing, but it’s over,” Oscar said, unimpressed. “I don’t think that makes him a killer.”

“You’re missing the point. His attitude was strange.”

“It’s never easy meeting the guy who’s replaced you in the bedroom.”

“It’s not that. I don’t think he’s over it.”

“Okay, he’s still hung up on Sarah. So what? I’ve never gotten over the fact Farrah Fawcett married Lee Majors.”

“Well, he was the Six Million Dollar Man.”

“In body parts, not cash.”

“This doesn’t sound like a recent thing. How old were you when Farrah broke your heart?”

“That was in seventy-six—bicentennial year,” he said, staring at the ceiling. “I was fourteen.”

Terry grinned.

“Moving swiftly along, now you know which woman broke my heart. What makes you think Sarah dumping Tom Degrasse turned him into a serial murderer?”

“Maybe it had something to do with that story that busted them apart.”

Oscar wiped his hands on another Kleenex. “The Oakland port authority bust?”

“Yeah. Think about it. Sarah was a whistle-blower, just like Alicia Hyams and the other women on her list. Tom Degrasse might be teaching her a lesson.”

“Some lesson.” Oscar dumped the remaining orange segments onto the saucer and wiped his mouth before pushing the saucer away. “Okay, let’s say Genavax didn’t try to kill you, but Tom Degrasse did. Could he have gotten into the building last night?”

“As much as anyone, I suppose. The place isn’t exactly Fort Knox.” Terry shrugged. “You don’t look convinced.”

“Well, it’s not that I’m not convinced; it’s that I don’t have a clue what’s happening.” Oscar counted off on his fingers. “We’ve got five murdered women who have nothing in common other than the way they died and that they exposed some wrongdoing
in their lives. We’ve got a biotech company conducting illegal experiments with children’s tissue. We’ve got a lovesick TV newsman. And we’ve got your wife hiding in the wilds of the San Joaquin Valley.” Oscar raised a finger. “But what we don’t have is a clear-cut, honest-to-God motive that connects it all.”

“You don’t have to make it sound that bad.”

“Unfortunately, that’s the way it does sound.”

Terry hated it when someone made perfect sense and he didn’t.

“When do you get out of here, anyway?”

“When I’ve seen the doctor. Why?”

“Well, I hope he comes soon. We’ve got to find that connection.” He smiled. “And I’ve got to get back to the Gold Rush. Call me when they discharge you.”

Lunchtime came and went with no sign of the promised doctor. Just after two, Terry thought he was going to get his audience with the fabled doctor, but he was wrong. Pamela Dawson walked into his room instead, followed by Frosty and two guys in suits. None of them looked concerned for his health. Frosty closed the door.

Terry’s visitors crowded his bed on both sides.

“You try anything, I’ll raise hell.” Terry picked up his call button. The remark was more in jest than seriousness, but nevertheless, the button could still be used to alert help if necessary.

Pamela ignored his threat. “These two men are Genavax attorneys.” She indicated to the men in suits. “They are here to sort out matters between the company and you.”

One of the suits used the end of Terry’s bed to rest his attaché case on while he opened it. He removed the binder Pamela and Frosty had used to bribe Terry and tossed it to him. “I think you’ve seen this.”

“Wow, you let him speak, Pamela.”

The crack impressed no one.

Terry picked up the binder and glanced at the contents. It was the job offer, but it had been revised. The salary had been
scribbled out and a new one had been written in and initialed. The new salary had been hiked another ten thousand dollars.

“It’s Genavax’s last offer,” the other suit said. “It also includes a generous settlement for the pain and suffering you incurred last night.”

“So you’d better take it,” Frosty said.

“What if I don’t?” Terry tossed the binder back at the suit.

“You’d be making a big mistake,” Pamela warned.

“Am I? I don’t think so. I think it’s you who’s making the mistake.”

Frosty leaned on the bed and stuck his face in Terry’s. “We can make life very difficult for you.”

The cheap gestapo act wasn’t intimidating him, and Terry waved a dismissive hand in Frosty’s face. “You and whose army?”

“We don’t need an army.” The first suit returned the binder to his attaché case. “We have the law.”

Terry snorted and crossed his arms. “What law?”

The second suit intervened. “You’ve stolen intellectual property from Genavax.”

“That’s just for starters,” Pamela said. “There’s the ICE to contend with. We can fire you, and you can kiss your visa good-bye.”

“Fire me. Go to the ICE. I dare you. My visa isn’t dependent on my job status. I’m married to a US national.”

“Not if she never turns up,” Frosty said.

The remark ignited Terry’s anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Frosty shrugged. “No one’s seen her in quite a while, and maybe no one will.”

Terry tasted metal in his mouth. He wanted to wipe that smug leer off Frosty’s face. “Get out of my room.”

No one moved.

“Didn’t any of you scumbags hear me?”

Pamela nodded to her troops to leave. The suits didn’t hesitate and filed out. Frosty remained until Pamela indicated to him to leave as well. He left reluctantly.

“There’s a good doggy,” Terry said to Frosty’s back. He waited until his colleague closed the door. “You need to put a muzzle on him.”

Pamela sat on the bed next to Terry, her feet dangling over the edge. Her arm slipped around his shoulders and she leaned in close, like a lover.

She whispered in his ear. “What is it you think you can do to us?”

Terry turned to look her in the eye. “Plenty. I can do more damage to you than you can to me.”

She laughed. “You think so, do you?”

“Pam, let’s cut the foreplay. What is it you want?”

“I want all the copies you made of our files, and I want you to leave Genavax. Don’t worry, we’ll keep you on the books. You’ll get a regular paycheck, and you’ll keep your benefits until you find another position.”

“And if I don’t, you’ll get Frazer the lapdog to shut me in the freezer again?”

“I’d watch what you say, Terry. That’s slander.”

“We both know it isn’t. Either you or Luke locked me in that freezer.”

Pamela smiled. “Which is it—Luke or me? You need proof, and you don’t have it. Any accusation you make, I’ll shoot it down.”

Pamela was right, and Terry hated her for it. “Get the hell away from me.”

Terry shoved his boss off the bed. Grabbing the bedclothes, Pamela caught her fall. She snapped to her feet.

“If there’s dirty work to be done, I do it myself.”

“And does that dirty work include stealing tissue from children?” Terry demanded. “Do you wait for them to die or do you help them along?”

Pamela shook her head. She had the expression of someone trying to explain quantum mechanics to a three-year-old. “How long have you been working in the biotech industry?”

Terry didn’t answer.

“Have you learned nothing? Nine out of ten biotech firms fold before ever coming up with a viable drug. Genavax will only survive by being better than the rest and more important, faster than the rest. Animal testing only goes so far—human testing is the final answer. Many times the results from animal tests are misleading. Human testing is what will get Genavax to the finish line first.”

“Have you been practicing that speech long?”

None of what Pamela said was new to Terry. He knew the facts of biotech life, but he knew the rules too, and Genavax had broken them. Human testing without FDA approval was illegal, and if the FDA knew, it would hang Genavax from the nearest tree.

Genavax’s human testing wasn’t there to advance its research, but to keep it on track. It was a parity check, a cheat sheet with all the right answers. If animal testing led them off the straight and narrow, Pamela and Frosty made sure a miraculous breakthrough put them back there. Even in his short time at Genavax, he’d seen Frosty come up with foresight in research that sent them in a different direction.

“So what’s it to be?” Pamela asked. “Are you going to return the copies?”

The doctor let himself in without knocking. He looked sheepish when he realized he was disturbing something serious. He apologized for his intrusion.

“That’s okay, Doctor,” Pamela said. “I was just leaving. Terry, you’ve got until five thirty tomorrow evening.”

The uncomfortable moment passed when Pamela left. The doctor made his examination and duly discharged Terry with express instructions to take it easy and to check in with his primary-care physician. Terry agreed, but had the feeling he wouldn’t be taking it easy for some time.

Two hours later, Oscar was whisking Terry home. Oscar went to make a turn off Solano Dam Road toward Terry’s house, but Terry stopped him.

“Let’s carry on to the Gold Rush. I need something.”

“What is it you want?”

“I want those documents that you hid for me.”

At the Gold Rush Oscar carried a maintenance sign to the fourteenth hole—the windmill hole. He told the disappointed preteens who were about to play the hole to move on to the next one and promised them free sodas when they finished. From the looks they gave him, the compensation didn’t go far enough. Terry put out the C
LOSED FOR
M
AINTENANCE
sign and Oscar cut the power to the novelty.

Terry looked on incredulously. “You put it in there?”

“Yeah. Why not?” Oscar said. “Who would think to look there?”

Terry couldn’t deny Oscar’s logic and smiled.

Oscar rooted around inside the replica windmill, then handed Terry the envelope. Terry removed the Genavax documents and handed the rest back to Oscar for safekeeping.

Oscar restarted the windmill and asked, “What now?”

“Take me home. There’s something I have to do. Pamela’s waiting for an answer.”