The Chemist Part 18

The dogs sat down in unison, tongues lolling out in sharp-fanged smiles.

Kevin joined them at the door.

"Like I said, you can grab your stuff. Danny, there's a room for you at the top of the stairs on the right. As for you..." He looked down at Alex. "Well, I guess the room at the other end of the hall will work. I wasn't expecting extra company, so it's not fitted up as a bedroom."

"I've got a cot."

"I don't have any stuff," Daniel said, and though she listened for it, she didn't hear any sadness in the words; he was putting up a good front. "Do you need help with yours, Alex?"

She shook her head. "I'll only take a few things in. The rest I'll stash somewhere outside the fence."

Daniel raised his eyebrows in confusion, but Kevin was nodding.

"I've had to run out in the middle of the night before," she explained to Daniel, pitching her voice low, though Arnie could probably still hear. She had no idea how much he knew about Kevin's old job. "Sometimes it's not so easy to get back to pick up your things."

Daniel's brow creased. Some of the sadness she'd been expecting before flickered across his expression. This was a world not many people entered on purpose.

"You don't need to worry about that here," Kevin said. "We're secure."

Kevin was one of those people who had chosen this life, which made his every judgment suspect to her.

"Better to keep in practice," she insisted.

Kevin shrugged. "If that's what you want, I know a place that might work."

THE HOUSE WAS quite a bit nicer on the inside than the outside. She'd expected moldy wallpaper, 1970s oak paneling, sagging couches, linoleum, and Formica. While there was still an attempt at a rustic theme, the fixtures were new and state of the art. There were even granite countertops on the kitchen island under the elk-horn chandelier.

"Wow," Daniel murmured.

"But how many contractors were inside this place?" she muttered to herself. Too many witnesses.

Kevin heard, though she hadn't meant him to. "None, actually. Arnie used to be in construction. We got all the materials from across the state line and did the work ourselves. Well, mostly Arnie did it. Satisfied?"

Alex pursed her balloon lips.

"How did you two meet?" Daniel asked Arnie politely.

She really ought to study Daniel, Alex thought, practice his ways of interacting. This was how to act like a normal person. Either she'd never really known how or she'd forgotten completely. She had her lines down for waitressing, for cubicle jobs; she knew how to respond in a work environment in the least memorable way. She knew how to talk to patients when she was doing her illicit doctor gig. Before that, she'd learned the best ways to pull answers from a subject. But outside of the prescribed roles, she always avoided contact.

It was Kevin who answered Daniel's question. "Arnie was in a little trouble that related tangentially to a project I was working on a while back. He wanted out, and he gave me some very valuable information in exchange for my killing him."

The silent Arnie grinned widely.

"We hit it off," Kevin continued, "and kept in touch. When I decided to start preparing for retirement, I contacted him. Our needs and interests aligned perfectly."

"Match made in heaven," Alex said in a sweet voice. Great, so people might be looking for him, too, she didn't add aloud.

Kevin and Daniel went to the downstairs master to gather a wardrobe for Daniel and outfit him with toiletries. Alex showed herself upstairs, easily locating the small room Kevin had offered her. It would work. He was using it for storage right now, but there was enough s.p.a.ce for her cot and personal things. One of the large plastic storage bins would make a decent subst.i.tute for a desktop. The bathroom was down the hall; it connected to both the hallway and what would be Daniel's bedroom.

It had been a very long time since she'd shared a bathroom. At least this one was bigger and posher than she was used to.

The brothers were still busy when she went back to the car to sort through her stuff. There were three dogs on the porch; one she was pretty sure was Einstein, one huge black Rottweiler, and a reddish-brown, sad-faced dog with floppy ears who reminded her of the dog whose leg gets broken at the end of Lady and the Tramp. So that probably meant he was a hound dog or a bloodhound or something-she wasn't sure which was which.

The Rottweiler and the hound started toward her with more interest than menace, but it was enough for her to take a huge step back toward the door. Einstein raised his head and gave a low, cough-like bark, and the other two stopped. They sat down where they were, like they had when Kevin had given them the at-ease command.

She wasn't sure if Einstein actually had the authority to give the other dogs orders-did dogs recognize rank?-so she moved cautiously along the porch, waiting for them to attack. They held their relaxed positions, just watching her curiously. As she pa.s.sed, the hound's tail thumped loudly against the wooden slats of the floor, and she had the odd impression that he was playing up the sad eyes in antic.i.p.ation of being petted. She hoped he wasn't too disappointed that she wasn't brave enough to try it.

She dug through her things wedged in the trunk, pulling together an emergency kit and fitting it into a backpack; this she would keep with her at all times. She took most of her dirty clothes to wash inside-hopefully there was a was.h.i.+ng machine-but left the businessy stuff with the other bags in the trunk. She had to have at least one set of clothes with her off-property stash. She'd run out one memorable night-after a.s.sa.s.sin two was ga.s.sed trying to cut her throat-in just her underwear and had to steal a neighbor's coveralls out of the back of his work van. She'd learned that lesson. And to always sleep in pajamas that could double as daytime clothes.

Even with the cot, it was an easy load to take up the stairs. She went back for one of the duffel bags, this one containing her basic lab gear. She shouldn't waste the downtime when she could be prepping. As she pa.s.sed the master bedroom, she heard squabbling, and the sound made her happy to be out of the way of it.

The lab setup was a quick process after so much practice. One of her gla.s.s flasks was chipped, but it looked like it was still usable. She pieced her rotary evaporator together and then laid out a few condensers and two stainless-steel vessels. She'd used almost all of her Survive, and the way this week was going, she would probably need more. She had plenty of D-phenylalanine, but she was disappointed when she checked on her opioid store. Less than she'd thought. Not enough to synthesize more Survive, and she had only one dose left.

She was still scowling at her lack of supplies when she heard Kevin calling up the stairs.

"Hey, Oleander. Ticktock."

By the time she got through the front door, Kevin was already in the sedan, Daniel in the pa.s.senger seat. When Kevin spotted her hesitating on the porch, he held the horn down for one annoyingly long blast. She walked as slowly as possible to the car and climbed into the backseat with a frown-dog hair was going to get all over her.

They drove along the same slender dirt lane out through the gate and a few miles farther before turning onto an even less p.r.o.nounced road that headed in a mostly westerly direction. This road was nothing more than two tire tracks worn into the gra.s.s. They followed it for about six or seven miles, she guessed. For the first few miles, she caught glimpses of the ranch's fence line, but after that, they were too far west for her to see it anymore.

"Is this your land, too?"

"Yes, after pa.s.sing through a few other names. This parcel is owned by a corporation that is not affiliated in any way with the parcel the ranch is on. I do know how to do this, you know."

"Of course."

The landscape started to change on her right. The yellow-white gra.s.s cut off at a strangely even border and beyond that, the ground turned to level, bare red dirt. When they started to wind back to the north toward that border, she was surprised to see that the red dirt was actually a riverbank. The water was the same color as the red bank, and it moved smoothly west, without rapids or obstacles. It was about forty feet across at the widest point she could see. She watched the flow of the water as they drove roughly parallel to it, fascinated by its existence here in the middle of the dry gra.s.sland. For all its smooth progress, the river seemed to be moving fairly quickly.

There was no fence this time. A crumbling-down barn, grayed by the sun, sat about fifty yards from the road, looking as if it had reached the end of its very long life and was only waiting for the right weather system to put it out of its misery. She'd seen hundreds just like it on their quick tour through Arkansas and Oklahoma.

It was nowhere near as nice as her milking barn.

Kevin turned toward it, driving right through the gra.s.s now; she couldn't see any official road or pathway.

She waited in the running car while he jumped out to unlock the ma.s.sive antique padlock and swing the doors open. Outside, in the brilliant light of the open, cloudless sky, it was impossible to see anything inside the murky interior. He was back quickly to drive the car into the darkness.

This time, the inside matched the outside's promise. Dim light filtered through the slats of the barn to illuminate piles of corroded farm equipment, most of a rusted tractor, the sh.e.l.ls of a few ancient cars, and a ma.s.sive stack of dusty hay in the back, half covered with a tarp. Nothing worth stealing, or even examining more closely. If anyone bothered to break in here, the only valuable thing he would find was shade.

When the engine cut off, she thought she could just make out the rush of the river. They couldn't be more than a couple hundred yards away from it.

"This will work," she said. "I'll stick my stuff in a corner and you can use this car when you head back."

"Roger that."

She piled her four rectangular duffels into a shadowy crevice, partially hidden behind a stack of spiderwebbed firewood. The webs were dusty.

Kevin was rummaging near a pile of blackened metal-maybe parts for another tractor-and came back with a tattered old tarp, which he spread over her bags.

"Nice touch," she approved.

"It's all in the presentation."

"I guess you haven't gotten around to fixing this place up yet," Daniel commented, one hand on the closest car sh.e.l.l.

"I kind of like it how it is," Kevin said. "Let me give you a tour. Just in case you need something while I'm gone. Which you won't. But still."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Overpreparation is the key to success. It's kind of my mantra."

"Then you'll love this," Kevin said.

He walked to the half-tractor and bent down to fiddle with the lug nuts in the center of the huge flat tire.

"There's a keypad behind this hubcap." He spoke directly to Daniel. "The code is our birthday. Not too original, but I wanted you to be able to remember it easily. Same combination for the lock on the outside door."

A second later, the entire front face of the tire swung outward-it wasn't made of rubber, it was something stiffer and lighter, and it moved on hinges. Inside, an a.r.s.enal.

"Oh, yes," she breathed. "Batcave."

She immediately spotted a SIG Sauer that matched the gun she'd briefly stolen from him. He really didn't need two.

Kevin gave her a puzzled look. "Batman doesn't use guns."

"Whatever."

Daniel was examining the hinges on the hidden door. "This is very clever. Did Arnie make it?"

"No, I did, thanks."

"I didn't know you were handy. And when did you have the chance to do this, what with toppling cartels and all that?"

"Downtime between jobs. I can't sit still or I go crazy."

He closed up the fake tire and then gestured to the car sh.e.l.l near where Daniel had been standing before. "Lift the top of the battery and type in the same code. That one's rifles, the next is rocket launchers and grenades."

Daniel laughed, then caught his brother's expression. "Wait, really?"

"She likes preparation; I like to be extremely well armed. Okay, now, this one I couldn't hide so well, and anyway, it's the kind of thing I might need quickly."

Kevin walked around the side of the ma.s.sive hay tower, and they followed. The tarp hung to the ground on this side. She was pretty confident she knew at least the category of what he was hiding here, and sure enough, he lifted the tarp to reveal a cozy garage behind the hay with a very large vehicle wedged inside. From the way he stood, it was obviously his pride and joy.

"There's a truck back at the ranch that blends in, but this is here in case of emergencies."

Daniel made a small noise like a hiccup. Alex glanced at him and realized he was trying not to laugh. She got the joke immediately.

They had both dealt with DC traffic for years, though he more recently. And despite the congestion and tight parking options that were more suited for a Vespa than a medium-size sedan, there was always that one guy trying to shove his gigantic compensation-mobile into a parallel slot. As if anyone needed a Hummer anywhere, let alone in the city. You might as well just get a vanity plate that read D-BAG and be done with it.

When Daniel saw her mouth twitch, he lost his own control. Suddenly he was snorting with laughter. It was an awkward, infectious heh-heh-snort-heh-heh that was much funnier than the military monster truck. She started chortling along, surprised at how out of control the laughter felt almost immediately. She hadn't laughed big like this in so long; she'd forgotten how it grabbed your whole body and wouldn't let go.

Daniel had one hand on the hay while he bent over, the other hand on his side like he had a st.i.tch. It was the funniest thing she'd ever seen.

"What?" Kevin demanded. "What?"

Daniel tried to calm himself to answer, but then a sudden burst of giggles from Alex derailed him, and he guffawed again, gasping for air between outbursts.

"This is a state-of-the-art a.s.sault vehicle," Kevin complained, half shouting to be heard over their frenzied hilarity. "It has solid rubber tires and missile-proof gla.s.s. There are panels through the whole body that a tank can't crush. This thing could save your life."

He was just making it worse. Tears streamed down both their faces. Alex's lip was protesting and her cheeks ached. Daniel was hiccupping for real now, unable to straighten up.

Kevin threw up his hands in disgust and stomped away from them.

They busted up again.

Finally, several long minutes after Kevin had disappeared, Alex started to be able to breathe. Daniel's laughter was trailing off as well, though he was still holding his side. She could sympathize; she had a cramp, too. Oddly exhausted, she sat down on the hay-strewn floor and put her head between her knees, working to even out her breathing. After a second, she felt Daniel settle next to her. His hand came to rest lightly on her back.

"Ah, I needed that." He sighed. "It was starting to feel like nothing would ever be really funny again."

"I can't remember the last time I laughed like that. My stomach hurts."

"Mine too." And then he laughed another heh-heh-heh.

"Don't start," she begged.

"Sorry, I'll try. I might be a little hysterical."

"Huh. Maybe we should slap each other."

He laughed another burst, and she couldn't help but giggle.

"Stop," she moaned.

"Should we talk about sad things?" he wondered.

"Like living a life of isolation and fear, hunted every minute of the day?" she suggested.

It felt like the murky barn got even darker, and she immediately regretted speaking. Even if it hurt, it had felt so nice to laugh.

"That's a good one," Daniel said quietly. "How about letting down all the people who count on you?"

"Doesn't really apply for me, but it's definitely a depressing idea. Though in your case, I doubt anyone will look at it that way. They'll probably think you've been murdered. Everyone will be heartbroken and they'll leave flowers and candles in front of the school marquee."

"Do you think they will?"

"Sure. There will probably even be teddy bears."

"Maybe. Or maybe no one will miss me. Maybe they'll say, 'Finally, we got rid of that joker and now we can hire a real history teacher. The girls' volleyball team might actually have a chance with him out of the way. You know what? Let's just find a chimp to do his job and put his salary into the retirement fund.'"