have called sooner.”
“I was just going to ask if you could bring some lattés when you come in. I’m overloaded and could use a little caffeine.”
“I don’t think I’m going to make it in today. Something’s happened—”
“Ms. Goldstein is here, and she’s expects you to be at your desk.”
“I realize that.”
“You’re supposed to give at least an hour’s notice.”
“I know that, too.” I watched a couple of uniform cops bring a screaming woman up the steps, my heart sinking. I couldn’t help but think—who knows what might have happened to me if my uncle hadn’t taken me in, if he hadn’t made the choices he did, and if I hadn’t agreed to the rules and regulations of WITSEC.
My thoughts again drifted to those dark days right after my uncle was arrested.
“You said Ms. Goldstein was there?”
“Yes. But she’s very busy, and I’m sure she would appreciate if her receptionist bothered to come into work—”
“Can I talk to her, please?”
That shut Russell up. It surprised me. I didn’t think anything was capable of shutting Russell up.
“If you plan on pleading your case—”
“No. This is of a more personal nature.”
Russell groaned. “Fine. But if you aren’t at your desk tomorrow, don’t expect your job to be waiting for you on Wednesday.”
“I understand.”
A moment later, Einstein’s voice came over the phone.
“Are you ill again?” she asked with real concern in her voice. “Maybe you should start taking some vitamin C. I hear it does wonders for the immune system.”
“No, I’m not ill. It’s Conrad.”
“Is something wrong with Conrad?”
“You know about Madison’s kidnapping last week, right?”
“Kidnapping?”
“Has Rawn told you about the investigation? Do you know why they would think that Conrad would have something to do with it?”
“Conrad should be at work right now.”
I started to tell her about his arrest, but thought better of it. Instead, I asked, “Have you spoken to Rawn since last week?”
“Of course. We were in a meeting together just this morning on the new electron microscope he’s thinking about producing. Our scientists think they could have a workable blueprint in a month or so.”
“That’s great,” I said. “But did he say anything about corporate espionage or kidnappings?”
There was a long silence. “We talked about an electron microscope,” she said. “And a new mass spectrometry detector.”
“Okay. Then he didn’t mention anything about Conrad?”
“No, not that I remember.” There was a clear tone of confusion in her voice. “Is Conrad okay?”
“He’s fine.”
I dragged my fingers through my hair as a man came walking up the steps dressed in a suit. I found myself hoping that he was Conrad’s lawyer. If I couldn’t get Conrad’s ex-wife to help me—I still didn’t even know why he’d been arrested, not really—I didn’t know who else to ask for help.
I shut off my phone a minute later and went back inside, the dregs of humanity screaming all around me. There were a couple of women dressed in less than appropriate clothing sitting on a bench, handcuffed to one another. A man with blood running down his cheeks from a pretty significant head wound sat beside them. A couple of teenagers with more tattoos than I’d ever seen on a single human being were there too. And then there were the worried parents, the crying wives, and the indifferent boyfriends, sisters, brothers, and grandparents standing around, waiting for their loved one to be brought out.
After a while, I found a place to sit that wasn’t too close to a questionable character or near the random puddles of unidentifiable fluids that seemed to be scattered throughout the room. I checked my phone dozens of times, not sure what I was hoping to see. Around noon, I slipped out onto the front steps again to check in with Christy. Everything was fine at home, thank goodness. I wasn’t sure if I could handle another
“I was just going to ask if you could bring some lattés when you come in. I’m overloaded and could use a little caffeine.”
“I don’t think I’m going to make it in today. Something’s happened—”
“Ms. Goldstein is here, and she’s expects you to be at your desk.”
“I realize that.”
“You’re supposed to give at least an hour’s notice.”
“I know that, too.” I watched a couple of uniform cops bring a screaming woman up the steps, my heart sinking. I couldn’t help but think—who knows what might have happened to me if my uncle hadn’t taken me in, if he hadn’t made the choices he did, and if I hadn’t agreed to the rules and regulations of WITSEC.
My thoughts again drifted to those dark days right after my uncle was arrested.
“You said Ms. Goldstein was there?”
“Yes. But she’s very busy, and I’m sure she would appreciate if her receptionist bothered to come into work—”
“Can I talk to her, please?”
That shut Russell up. It surprised me. I didn’t think anything was capable of shutting Russell up.
“If you plan on pleading your case—”
“No. This is of a more personal nature.”
Russell groaned. “Fine. But if you aren’t at your desk tomorrow, don’t expect your job to be waiting for you on Wednesday.”
“I understand.”
A moment later, Einstein’s voice came over the phone.
“Are you ill again?” she asked with real concern in her voice. “Maybe you should start taking some vitamin C. I hear it does wonders for the immune system.”
“No, I’m not ill. It’s Conrad.”
“Is something wrong with Conrad?”
“You know about Madison’s kidnapping last week, right?”
“Kidnapping?”
“Has Rawn told you about the investigation? Do you know why they would think that Conrad would have something to do with it?”
“Conrad should be at work right now.”
I started to tell her about his arrest, but thought better of it. Instead, I asked, “Have you spoken to Rawn since last week?”
“Of course. We were in a meeting together just this morning on the new electron microscope he’s thinking about producing. Our scientists think they could have a workable blueprint in a month or so.”
“That’s great,” I said. “But did he say anything about corporate espionage or kidnappings?”
There was a long silence. “We talked about an electron microscope,” she said. “And a new mass spectrometry detector.”
“Okay. Then he didn’t mention anything about Conrad?”
“No, not that I remember.” There was a clear tone of confusion in her voice. “Is Conrad okay?”
“He’s fine.”
I dragged my fingers through my hair as a man came walking up the steps dressed in a suit. I found myself hoping that he was Conrad’s lawyer. If I couldn’t get Conrad’s ex-wife to help me—I still didn’t even know why he’d been arrested, not really—I didn’t know who else to ask for help.
I shut off my phone a minute later and went back inside, the dregs of humanity screaming all around me. There were a couple of women dressed in less than appropriate clothing sitting on a bench, handcuffed to one another. A man with blood running down his cheeks from a pretty significant head wound sat beside them. A couple of teenagers with more tattoos than I’d ever seen on a single human being were there too. And then there were the worried parents, the crying wives, and the indifferent boyfriends, sisters, brothers, and grandparents standing around, waiting for their loved one to be brought out.
After a while, I found a place to sit that wasn’t too close to a questionable character or near the random puddles of unidentifiable fluids that seemed to be scattered throughout the room. I checked my phone dozens of times, not sure what I was hoping to see. Around noon, I slipped out onto the front steps again to check in with Christy. Everything was fine at home, thank goodness. I wasn’t sure if I could handle another
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