Syndrome by Thomas Hoover (best ereader for pdf txt) 📕
"You picked a funny time to call."
Is that all she has to say? Four and a half frigging years she shuts me out of her life, blaming me, and then...
"Well, Ally, I figured there's gotta be a statute of limitations on being accused of something I didn't do. So I decided to take a flier that maybe four years and change was in the ballpark."
"Grant, do you know what time it is? This is Sunday and--"
"Hey, this is the hour you do your Sunday run, right? If memory serves. So I thought I might drive down and keep you company."
He didn't want to let her know that he was already there. That would seem presumptuous and probably tick her off even more. But by God he had to get to her.
Again there was a long pause. Like she was trying to collect and marshal her anger.
"You want to come to see me? Now? That's a heck of a--"
"Look, there's something really important I need to talk to you about. It's actua
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“Welcome to my home away from home. You’re right, I didn’t expect—”
“CitiSpace,” he interjected seeming to try out the word as he looked around She noticed that Jennifer and the others automatically assumed he was a new client of hers and were trying to look preoccupied. Jen, however, was giving him a furtive appraisal, running the numbers. He was a decent looker, actually kind of cute, and he seemed pleasant and outgoing. Not a bad start. That was what she would say the moment he was out of earshot.
“You like the name?”
“Not bad. Sort of a takeoff on Citibank?”
“My dad came up with it back before they copyrighted that name. Maybe they stole the idea from us.” She was feeling cheered by the sight of him. Yes, it was good to have him back for a while, maybe longer. “But come on, let me introduce you around”
Which she did. Jennifer gave her a telepathic glance that said This guy looks like he might be worth the effort. What’s the deal?
Then they went to Ally’s office, a high-walled cubicle in the back with a computer and a drafting table. She had a CAD program running.
“Sorry to just invite myself down like this,” he said, “but I got off work early. Matter of fact, I just became a freelancer. My office now consists of three cardboard boxes in my walk-up apartment.”
“What do you mean? That phone page? Did—”
“Winston Bartlett owns the building where the Sentinel’s offices are. Seems he convinced the management that it would be in their interest if I were no longer employed there. I gather he thinks I know more than I actually do about what’s going on out at the Dorian Institute, and I guess he thought getting me fired would slow me down. What it has done, however, is to give me even more incentive to surpass his most paranoid assumptions. Now I’m going to take him on full-time. I want to know everything.”
“Oh, Stone, I’m so sorry.” She wasn’t buying his bravado. He didn’t look like a guy who could last very long without a paycheck.
“I have to say he gave me fair warning. That meeting where he yelled at me. This little turn of the screw is not a total shock.”
“But that whole thing with Kristen… I’ll bet that’s what sent him over the edge. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved in that.”
“This had nothing to do with you, believe me.” He shrugged “Besides, it gives me even more motivation to finish the book fast. And I’m also looking forward to spending some of my newfound quality time with you again, if you’ll let me. In your favor, you’ve actually been inside the Dorian Institute, which is more than I can say.”
She wasn’t a big believer in the magic of a second time around-that would have to await further evidence-but having Stone back in her life was definitely helping on the psychological-support front.
“I’m thinking,” he went on, “that maybe we should go back to Kristen’s apartment and turn the place inside out. Do it right. We both let ourselves get distracted by the little matter of our other lives.”
“Stone, I’m not sure”-she lowered her voice and sat down at her desk—“but I may be having a reaction to something one of Van de Vliet’s research assistants did to me out at the institute this morning. I don’t know. I’m just feeling sort of weak and… funny. I’m thinking maybe I should call out there and talk to him.” She took a deep breath and seemed to be mounting her courage. “Or if he needs to see me, could you possibly drive for me? I’m not sure I’m up to it”
“Hey, I’d love a chance to get inside that place.” Then his eyes grew uncertain. “But are you sure you want to go back, after what seems to have happened to Kristen? You might consider waiting till we find her and—”
“Ally, are you all right?” Jennifer was walking in, carrying a manila folder. “You look kind of queasy. Can I make you some tea or something?”
“Thanks but not now,” she said. “I’m feeling weird, but maybe I should call out to the institute and see what Van de Vliet says.”
“Just don’t agree to do anything until we talk,” Stone said.
“Don’t worry,” she said reaching for the phone. The number for the Dorian Institute was now newly entered on her Palm Pilot and she called it. When the receptionist answered she gave her name and asked for Dr. Van de Vliet. “I was there this morning and gave a blood sample to Dr. Debra Connolly. I don’t know if there’s any connection, but I’m really feeling strange right now.”
“What do you mean by ‘strange’?” the woman asked. “Can you describe how you feel exactly? He’s in the lab downstairs.”
“That’s just it I’m not sure I need to actually see him. I’d just like to talk to him.”
“He doesn’t like to be disturbed. Unless it’s something very important.”
“It’s important enough for me to try to call him,” she declared feeling herself abruptly seething. “I’m weak and dizzy. And my stomach is not in such great shape either.”
“What did you have for lunch?”
My God, she realized she hadn’t actually had any. After the disaster with Kristen, she’d been in such turmoil that she hadn’t even thought about food.
On the other hand, she knew what food deprivation felt like. This was something else.
“I didn’t have all that much lunch, but that’s not the problem. Now will you please put me through?”
“Let me see what I can do,” she said. “I’ll call down and ask him. He might be able to see you.”
Ally listened as the line went blank.
That was when she remembered she had some smoked turkey in the office fridge. Maybe a quick sandwich was called for.
While she waited, Stone was looking around the offices, taking everything in. Carrying the phone, she walked out and followed him. What, she wondered, was the place telling him about her? The meager furniture was low-slung and utilitarian, with lots of beige and dark brown. And there were several huge storage files for blueprints and designs. There also was a comfortable easy chair and lamp near a bookcase in the corner. On the table next to the chair were two British mysteries and a thick, recently written history of New York City.
He walked over and picked it up. It was 760 pages long.
“This your idea of reading for relaxation?” he asked, waving it at her. “I tried to get through it, but I only got up to the 1930s and then I started having a bout of acute sleeping sickness every time I picked it up.”
“Hey, the history of this city is a mental hobby of mine. It’s always renewing itself.” She smiled. “Think about it. When developers convert industrial space to residential, we end up getting a lot of work.”
Then she heard the phone crackle alive. It was Van de Vliet. “Alexa, what seems to be the problem?”
She told him.
“Then I think it’s important that you come back out here as soon as you can. I can’t say anything until I’ve seen you. This could be something that could affect your procedure.”
“But what do you think—”
“I don’t diagnose over the phone. I was about to go home, but I’ll wait for you.”
She listened as he clicked off.
“Shit.”
“What did he say?” Stone asked.
“He said I’ve got to come out.”
“Do you really want to do that?”
“I don’t know. But what’s the point of going to a doctor here? They wouldn’t know—”
“Then at least let me drive you,” Stone declared. “And I’ll make damned sure they don’t pull something funny.”
“Ally,” Jennifer said ,“you look absolutely wiped out. Before you do anything, at least let me fix you a sandwich. I think there’s some turkey in the fridge.”
“I was thinking about that.” She glanced at Stone. “You want something?”
“Sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“Don’t be so sure. Jen can tell you I take mayo and mustard both. I know it’s weird but that’s the way I am.”
“Then I’ll give it a try. I want to get to know you all over again.”
“Also, I hate to say it, but I think maybe I ought to swing by the apartment and get some things. Just in case.”
She listened to her own voice and wondered, would whatever happened to Kristen happen to me too?
Maybe, she thought, what I really ought to take with me is a gun. Maybe Katherine Starr had the right idea.
Jennifer finished the sandwiches and was wrapping them. “Ally, I’ll go with you to your place and pick up Knickers. She can stay with me till you know what’s going on.”
“Thanks, Jen. I was hoping you’d volunteer.” She knew she could have dropped a hint and made it happen anyway, but this was nicer.
She then went around and had a few last words. It felt like a goodbye and she didn’t want it to. But it did.
Ten minutes later, while Stone waited in her double-parked car, she and Jennifer took the elevator up to her Barrow Street apartment.
“Where did you find that man?” Jennifer asked as soon as they got on. “He seems nice. Interesting. He’s not a client, is he? And, pardon me for noticing, no wedding ring.”
“He actually found me,” Ally declared, punching her floor. “It’s a long story, but he was a guy I was deeply in love with for about fifteen minutes back around college. The old flame I told you about, remember? Then we started getting on each other’s nerves. We’re both going easy on the personal details right now, but I’ve got a hunch he’s got nobody else percolating. Which, incidentally, goes for me too, or hadn’t you noticed.”
They stepped off the elevator and she unlocked the door to her apartment. Knickers exploded with delight.
“Hi, baby.” She reached down and ruffled the sheepdog’s ears.
“I really love her,” Jennifer said as she reached down to pet her too.
Knickers began a dance of joy, then ran to search for her rubber ball behind the couch, hoping for a game of fetch with Jennifer.
“By the way, I can’t tell you how I appreciate your taking her. She’s going to love being at your place awhile. I’m sure she gets bored crazy being here all the time. I probably should get a puppy or something to keep her company, but then she’d be jealous. And I’m not about to get a stupid cat.”
“She loves me because she knows I love her,” Jennifer said. “I always play with her when you bring her into the office. At least I think she loves me. This may turn out to be the test.”
Ally headed into the bedroom, opened a drawer, and took out some black sweatshirts. Those and black jeans were her favorite things to wear around the house. She slept in a T-shirt and panties, so it wasn’t hard to put together her evening ensemble. Besides, if something went wrong with the experimental stem cell procedure, it wouldn’t matter a damn what
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