Chapter Twelve
Men look at my mother all the time, but other than engaging in some pretty precision flirtation she just doesn't seem interested. We talked about it once when we were living together in Paris and she told me that her heart just felt too full already. I think maybe it just felt too broken because it wasn't that long ago that she had lost my sister Leora and David. I can't even imagine what it must be like to lose a child and my mother has already lost two counting the miscarriage she had with Duke. It scares me sometimes when I think about my HIV and the fact that she could lose me, too.
"And you say she looks just like you?" Noah asked with a grin. They were walking towards the front door of Vadzel castle, Anna's sister Alex's home with her husband Dimitri in Budapest, Hungary. It was, as expected, a rather large Baroque structure.
"That's what identical twin usually means, Doctor." Anna gave Noah a sidelong glance.
"I'm just thinking how lucky I am to have two such beautiful women to look at."
"Look, don't touch. I'm armed."
Noah put his hands up and laughed. "The other players are Dimitri Marick, Alex's husband, who like everyone else you know was once believed dead and your half-brother Gabriel?"
"Right. Except Gabriel isn't here, he's going to school right now in Switzerland. Dimitri is also away, on business."
"Big place for only three people and staff." Noah looked up at the imposing building. "I can see why Alex would be spooked to be here alone, but the security seems pretty rigorous from what I can tell coming in."
"No amount of security will keep out someone who wants to get in." Anna's voice was grim.
They stopped a few feet from the door and she turned to look at Noah. "I appreciate you coming with me and for caring so much about my daughter. You do understand this could be dangerous for you?"
"We've already covered this, Anna." Noah leaned in closer to her. "I wouldn't have a life if it wasn't for your daughter."
She nodded and looked up at him. "Thank you."
A slow smile spread across his face. "You're welcome. Hey, you know how you can really thank me? Did you pack that nurse's outfit?"
Anna laughed. "Dr. Drake, you are insufferable! How is it in the midst of all this you can make me laugh? It defies logic."
"It's simple. I'm irresistibly charming and I care a great deal about your daughter." Noah leaned over and brushed a stray piece of hair from her cheek and their eyes locked. They stared at each other intently until a clearing throat interrupted.
Noah and Anna sprung apart guiltily and turned to see Alex Devane-Marick standing in the open doorway, a wry grin on her face. Noah did a double-take between the woman he had gotten to know the past almost week and the woman in the doorway, then his face settled into a satisfied grin.
"Sorry to interrupt. Hello Anna. You must be Dr. Drake."
Noah walked forward and held his hands out to Alex. Alex met him halfway and chuckled at the gleam in his eyes. "It's lovely to meet you. Please call me Noah. If you keep calling me Dr. Drake I might think you're talking about my son." Pride infused his voice at the mention of his son.
"Enough of the Drake charm," Anna drawled and moved forward to hug her sister once the other woman was disentangled from Noah. "Tell us what's going on."
"This is incredible," Noah said for what Anna estimated to be the tenth time in as many minutes. They were sitting in Dimitri's den looking over the analysis Alex had made of the compound that Robin was working on with the believed to be deceased Dr. Renee Laurent.
"The therapeutic impact of this compound on the effects of traumatic brain injury centered in the temporal lobe would be incredible if they got it stable enough." Alex was sitting on the edge of Dimitri's large mahogany desk.
"What you're saying is that it could also be used to over-stimulate the production of serotonin and certain peptides in combination to biofeedback stimuli thereby rerouting certain emotional reactions and associated neuro-pathways to enable someone else to take control of the patient's mind, at least temporarily," Noah continued from his position on the dark, brown tweed sofa. Anna sat next to him looking through Alex's notes.
"And each successive dosage and brainwashing session would result in more and more control lost by the patient," Alex explained. "It looks like the flaw that Dr. Laurent, or whoever was pretending to be her, was trying to solve was the fact that eventually the effected brain would continuously overproduce serotonin and peptides, in turn impacting the standing heart rate, raising blood pressure and all the other effects stress can have on the body, but increased thousands of times. Aneurisms, heart attack, organ failure and inevitably death."
"Making them not very effective drones," Noah said dryly, quirking an eyebrow.
"What you're saying is that this compound can be administered and used to manufacture fear and that can be used to control the subject?" Anna said.
"It's more than fear. It's akin to a phobia or what we call distorted fear. It's irrational panic and the patient would be trained to do whatever it was ordered to ease that fear. I suspect that it's probably countered with the administration of some kind of sedative on the back end, which has a whole host of other side effects. The mind can even be trained to administer its own forms of calming agents. It's possible that the subject wouldn't even remember what they've done. Either because the brain is too over-stimulated and the long-term memory becomes shot or because some engineering or training will go on to induce memory loss. Or both."
"How did Robin not know this?" Anna asked, knowing her daughter would have no part in this.
"Like I said, used alone the premise of the initial compound and the first phase of lab trials showed promise for the therapeutic effects Robin was looking for, but based on my experience with brainwashing, both personal and professional, I recognized that it could also be used this way in manufactured conditions. And given Robin's disappearance and Dr. Laurent's death I decided to delve deeper. I called some people I used to know."
Anna's face tightened at the reminder of what Alex had endured at the hands of her "mother" – being imprisoned in a mental hospital that was really a brainwashing facility for a terrorist organization that wanted to use her as a killing machine. And if her suspicions were true, and Anna had no reason to think they weren't, it was possible that Alex herself was also a target of whoever had Robin or another faction who also wanted this compound. Apparently, the strange occurrences around Alex had started before Robin had disappeared.
"Do you think we're looking at the same thing here?" Noah asked, Anna having filled him in on Alex's history on the long flight over.
"It seems likely," Alex said, her eyes still locked with that of her twin.
"Which means they took Robin to help work out the kinks in the compound that Dr. Laurent couldn't? But there's a good chance they're not using it on her because that…."
"That would kill her." Anna's voice was devoid of emotion. "And if she doesn't solve their problem she won't be of use to them either and they'll kill her like they did Dr. Laurent."
"Anna, I'm afraid that these problems in this compound can't be solved, not even by someone as smart as Robin. There are so many things we don't understand about the body and if you mess with one thing you throw everything off balance. You manipulate serotonin and peptide production for too long the breakdown is inevitable. And if that doesn't kill you the effects of distorted fear of this magnitude will."
"The best she could do is help put off that inevitability," Noah said grimly.
"They'd kill her even if she succeeds," Anna snapped.
"Or…" Noah broke off.
Anna stopped pacing and turned to face Noah. "Say it, Noah," she ordered quietly.
"If she succeeds, they might keep her to work on other projects. The question is how are they getting her to cooperate." Noah rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. "I think she'd try to fake them out as long as she could and when that wouldn't work she'd refuse to cooperate unless they had something over her."
"Something that created a distorted fear in her mind." Alex got off the desk and went to stand next to Noah.
"Or someone." Anna stopped pacing.
"Robert?" Noah asked, watching Anna's reaction closely.
She frowned. "I don't know whether to be relieved she might not be alone or worried that he might be tangled up in this. I still don't know where he is." Anna put her hands on her hips and looked up at the elaborately carved wooden ceiling, thinking.
"What we need to find is this person that sent Robin an email pretending to be Dr. Laurent." Noah cleared his throat.
"Maybe it was Dr. Laurent and that body was a fake?" Alex suggested and looked at Anna.
"Either way there is probably more than one group interested in this compound and in Robin."
"And which group is it that's here in Hungary watching Alex and why?" Noah asked.
"We haven't confirmed that anything is going on," Alex protested.
"I trust your instincts, Sis. What did your contacts," Anna grimaced, "Tell you?"
"Not much, just that there has been talk about a drug of this sort out there and that whoever develops it is going to be rich beyond imagination."
"This is about money?" Noah put his hands on his hips, his face angry.
"It always is, Dr. Drake. It always is," Alex said.
"I don't know where she is! She's never left anyone else to do this before and if I screw this up she's going to be so pissed!" The dark haired Italian woman who was Brenda's assistant was wringing her hands and looking worse for wear despite the early hour. Marietta Giordani was not happy to have been left alone to manage the boutique's attendance at Paris Fashion Week. Aidan and Patrick shared a look as she twittered on about her worries about being left alone to handle coordinating the buying and schmooze with designers who wanted to see their former model in person.
They were currently standing in the buyer's tent at the Paris fashion shows. Around them servers who could have been – and probably were – models themselves were passing around glasses of champagne. It made Patrick uneasy. He should be here scoping out hot women, instead he found himself wondering if any of these men and women could be spies watching them. He didn't know if his imagination was running wild from a lifetime of watching spy movies or if he was finally adapting to the reality of Robin's life. All he knew was that Anna had explained the importance of Fashion Week and that it was unlikely that Brenda would miss it. All they had gotten was a description of the broker Brenda had left with.
"Wait, where did you say she was?" Patrick demanded when something Marietta said caught his ear.
"She said she was thinking of opening a new boutique in Prague and went with the broker to check out the real estate. She said it couldn't wait until after the Paris show because it was a hot property. But I know she's just taking a vacation because that broker was gorgeous! She's not answering her cell phone and if I screw this up I'm so fired," she said for the umpteenth time.
"Here's my card. If you hear from Brenda give her my number and tell her it's urgent," Aidan said. "Do you understand?"
"Si. Yes." She studied the card, her mouse brown hair slipping over her forehead. "You're a private investigator. Do you think she's in trouble do you?"
"We're not sure, that's why it's urgent that you contact us immediately if you hear from her and have her call us, all right?" Aidan said.
"Of course, of course." Aidan caught Patrick's eye and motioned towards the exit with his head. In step, Aidan and Patrick walked out of the tent into the chaos that is the back stage of the Paris fashion show.
"This is a mad house," Aidan muttered.
"A mad house of incredibly beautiful women," Patrick added, more out of habit than because he was really looking. "And incredibly ugly clothes. Where next? The bastard Henri, I hope. I have a lot of tension to work out."
"Let me do the talking, Drake."
Dr. Henri Carroux had a rough day. He'd lost a patient on the table and had to deliver a death sentence to another patient with an inoperable brain tumor. If he'd been a less confident man he would have worried about that old saying about bad luck coming in threes. But if there was one thing Henri was, it was confident. Perhaps not the best doctor in Paris or even at the tiny private hospital he worked out of, but his father's money and reputation smoothed over any deficiencies he may have held in that area. Confidence he held in spades, and from his vantage point, things were finally looking up tonight. He had a date with one of the staff social workers at St. Sebastian's and she was even more beautiful than the lawyer he'd slept with the night before. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, pleased with what he saw. After running his fingers through his sunny hair he straightened his tie, then grabbed his jacket and walked out the door of his penthouse apartment. He never even saw the man who hit him from behind.
"Patrick!"
Patrick lowered the pewter walking stick he'd gotten in the swag tent at the fashion show and looked at Aidan innocently. "What?"
"I thought we agreed we'd let me handle Henri."
"It slipped."
Aidan rolled his eyes and grabbed Henri under his arms. "Help me drag him back to his apartment."
Patrick slowly walked over to where Aidan was standing with Henri and put his hands under Carroux's armpits as well. "Let go, I've got him. You get us into his place." Aidan let go, making his way quickly to Henri's door. He gave a quick look around and pulled out his lock picking tools, going to work. Patrick dragged Henri the rest of the way to the door, watching Aidan. "You know, your cousin could kick your ass picking a lock." Patrick let go of Henri, letting his head slam against the floor.
The lock clicked and Aidan swung the door open, a satisfied grin on his face. "Drake, try not to break our suspect. Grab his feet." Aidan grabbed Henri's arms again while Patrick took hold of his legs and together they carried him inside, Patrick slamming the door shut with his hip.
"Let's get him in a chair and tie him up."
"Just how many cop shows did you watch growing up, Patrick?"
"What? That's not a good plan? What do you propose we do? Sit him on the couch and make him dinner?"
Aidan sighed. "The chair will be fine, Mate."
Twenty minutes after tying him up, Henri still hadn't woken. Patrick took out a penlight and pried open his eyes, examining his pupils. "He's fine. Just lazy. Wake up asshole." He shook him and clapped his hands next to his ears. Finally, Henri started to rouse. "Great," Patrick smiled. "Here we go."
Henri groaned and slowly opened his eyes, trying to focus. He could make out what looked like a man's head, with a porcupine on top. "Qui vous est? Que voulez-vous?"
"English Carroux," Patrick snarled.
"You can take whatever you want. Just please don't hurt me."
"We're not here to rob you. We want some answers, and you're going to provide them. Now-"
"Where the fuck is Robin Scorpio?" Patrick cut off Aidan, advancing on Henri menacingly.
"Patrick!"
"No, Aidan, I'm not going to coddle this guy. He might know where Robin is."
"Robin Scorpio?" Henri looked puzzled. "What are you talking about? I haven't seen Dr. Scorpio in nearly a year."
"Listen, Henri. You are going to answer my questions completely. If you don't, I'll let my friend here have at you."
Henri looked over at Patrick, who shot him an icy glare. He swallowed hard. "I'll tell you whatever you want, but I swear I have no idea where Robin is. I don't understand why you are looking for her here."
"What? Didn't leave on the best of terms, Henri?" Patrick spat the words out. "Is that maybe because you tried to blackmail her into sleeping with you?"
Henri's jaw set and he squirmed in his chair. Patrick walked around the penthouse and started to shake. It looked familiar. Cold, impersonal. It looked like his room at the Metro Court. He looked out the large bay windows and could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance. He wiped his hands across his face. This bastard was the French him. For God's sake he was wearing a sweater vest.
"Listen, Dr. Carroux. Why don't you tell us your version of what happened between you and Robin." Aidan leaned in and stared at him hard.
Patrick, hands on hips, turned back towards them. "I can't wait to hear this."
Henri stared back at Aidan defiantly, and sniffed, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Fine. Dr. Scorpio was a beautiful woman who needed a little nudge towards living life. A night with me was just what she needed."
Patrick snorted. "So, you were doing her a favor?"
"I thought she'd be grateful. I wanted her even with her HIV."
"You son of a bitch-" Patrick lunged at him, but he was stopped short when Aidan grabbed him from behind. He shrugged off Aidan and started pacing. "Let me get this straight. You flame out spectacularly in the OR after Robin warned you about not performing surgery, you get suspended and you decide to go to daddy so he can yank Robin's funding and you can comfort her and offer a way back to her program being restored."
"That's not exactly how it happened."
"No? Then bloody well enlighten us."
Henri sighed. He looked at his two captors, and then looked down at his feet. "It was a bit of serendipity actually. Someone had come to my father that day offering him a large sum if he would pull Dr. Scorpio's funding. She'd been making amazing strides with her research, which was good for the hospital, but the money was too good to pass up."
"Serendipity?" Patrick laughed.
"Who the hell offered your father money?" Aidan questioned.
"No idea. He never met them. He agreed that Dr. Scorpio's program would be shut down and the money was wired into his account."
Noah lay in the large four poster bed, bone tired but wide awake. His eyes tried to focus on something, anything, in the dark. He was sure Mattie would have loved this old castle. She was a sucker for all things Medieval and she'd loved horror movies. His sweet, petite, porcelain-skinned beauty loved to be scared, and her motto was the more gore the better. This place brought those two loves together. Describing this mausoleum as creepy would be an understatement.
She'd like Alex and Anna too. He smiled, thinking how much easier it had become to remember Mattie without needing a drink in his hand. He still talked to her all the time – about Patrick mostly – but now that he was sober she didn't answer back. Sometimes he missed her so much he thought about going on just one more bender so he could talk to her again, but then he thought about his son and how much time he'd already wasted. Besides, while he may not be able to have an alcohol fueled hazy conversation with Mattie, in sobriety his memories of her were crystal clear. And that was something.
The handsome doctor pushed back the thick pile of blankets covering him and sat up, placing his bare feet on the cold tiled floor. He sighed and rubbed his face, his five o'clock shadow scratchy to the touch. Maybe if he got some air that would soothe his mind, help him finally find sleep. He quickly threw on a pair of old gray sweatpants and an old long sleeved "Maine is for lovers" t-shirt, laced up his sneakers and set out to find his way outside. A lot easier said than done since the Merrick castle was more like a maze than a home.
He wandered the hallways, past a long line of oil paintings of who he presumed were dead Marick relatives, and somehow ended up in the kitchen where a nice, plump older woman named Helga (the Marick cook) finally pointed him in the right direction. His hand paused on the handle of the French door when he saw the dark haired woman who'd had the same idea he did. He watched her silently stare at the moon while she perched on her toes and then back down again, then mindlessly twisted her ankle around, loosening it up.
"Anna?"
She smiled, glancing over her shoulder. "Good guess."
"What are you doing up so late?"
"I could ask you the same question."
He smiled at her. "Can't sleep. Strange country, strange bed. Gorgeous identical twins sleeping down the hall from me…"
"You are your son's father aren't you?"
He laughed and stopped next to her, leaning against the waist-high stone ledge that surrounded the patio area. "You replaying that conversation with Alex?"
"That and about a million other things." She paused and looked at him. "You know, Robin's birthday is in a few days."
"I didn't know that."
She nodded her head, looking up at the moon. "She didn't know I was her mother until she was seven." Noah looked at her quizzically. "Long story. This was a crazy life to be born into." She jumped up and sat on the ledge, hugging her arms around her. "I'm scared Noah," she whispered. "If it was just me dealing with this insanity I could handle it – but not Robin. I never wanted her anywhere near this life. I'm just scared."
Noah jumped up and sat next to her on the ledge. "So you're a parent. I'm scared for Patrick and he's just at a fashion show."
"I believe you're scared for a whole different reason," Anna quipped.
"My point is, Robin is a strong woman. She's intelligent and tough – she puts up with Patrick, doesn't she? And she was raised by you. She's going to be fine until we can find her and bring her home." Noah's intense gaze made Anna blush and she looked away, pulling her sweater around her tighter. Noah felt a little rush to see he had an effect on her and allowed himself a small smile. "So, what was Robin like as a child?"
"Precocious." Anna laughed. "She was a 40 year old woman in a 7 year old's body. What about Patrick?"
"Spoiled."
"You don't say."
"No, he was a great kid – all Mattie's doing of course. I was always so busy with work. The only reason I had a relationship to screw up with Patrick was because of Mattie. She insisted we should have something just the two of us could share. Some way we could do some father-son bonding, and actually, racing was her idea. I was a New England prep school kid - what did I know about car racing? But Mattie's dad had always loved it and once I had a taste of it with my son I was hooked too."
"Robin and I had dancing."
They smiled at each other and Anna looked away first. Her sweater had loosened a bit, giving Noah a view of the thin white t-shirt underneath. He felt like a frustrated 13 year old, trying to catch a glimpse of anything. He cleared his throat. "Beautiful night." As soon as the words were out of his mouth Noah turned his head away from Anna and rolled his eyes. He used to be so smooth with women. Where the heck did these tired lines come from? How was it that Anna made him feel like a teenager?
"Yeah. Bit chilly."
"You want to head back inside?" Noah jumped off the ledge and offered Anna his hand. She grasped it and jumped down next to him and the two of them stood there, looking at each other and holding hands in the crisp Hungarian night air.
Finally Anna spoke. "We should probably try to get some sleep."
Noah squeezed her hand and they smiled at each other. Then, still grasping her hand, he led her back inside.
Patrick looked around the small Parisian hotel room and dropped his bag by the door. He let out a long breath he felt like he'd been holding for days now and collapsed on the bed. It had been a long day, filled with models and bastard neurosurgeons, and yet again they were no closer to Robin. Or Brenda for that matter.
He rubbed a hand across his face, thinking, then pulled himself off the bed and walked back over to his bag. He rustled around in it, searching, his hands finally grasping what he was looking for as he pulled out Robin's journal. He wanted to spend the night with her and this was the closest he was going to get tonight.
He started to read an entry about a train crash, then stopped and instinctively flipped to the final entry Robin had made. It was dated October 2nd – the day she disappeared.
I gave Patrick the key to my apartment today.
The key. He shook his head. He knew that she had been disappointed in his reaction that morning. God, he really was an ass. He'd just have to make it up to her when she came back. That was it. Patrick pushed any thought that that wouldn't happen out of his head and continued reading. As he skimmed the words one caught his eye. Love. He sat up straighter and went to the beginning of the sentence.
I love him. I have no idea what to do with this information, and no one could be more shocked to see it in print than I am, but there it is. I'm in love with Patrick Drake. Now what do I do with it? It's not like I can tell him – that would completely freak him out. He's still getting used to the concept of dating. I must remember to take baby steps with him. But the fact still remains. I love him. I love that he challenges me, that he doesn't treat me like a porcelain doll that will break. I love his dimple, his chest; the way one look from him across the nurse's station can curl my toes and make me blush. He drives me crazy, flirts with anything that moves, thinks everything is all about him, and I just…I love him. It would be so much easier if I didn't. Where exactly do I go from here? I guess it's not something I need to figure out –
It ended there abruptly. Patrick stared at the words swirling before him. The last words she wrote before she was taken away. She loved him? How was that possible? Why would she let herself do something so stupid? I mean, of course, he was a great guy. But love? He wasn't so sure he deserved her love. He looked up at the ceiling, his heart beating a mile a minute.
How could she
possibly know if she was in love with him? Granted, his dad had told
him he would just know, which, really, what kind of an answer was that?
And his advice had been completely unsolicited. Noah had cornered him
in the hospital cafeteria one afternoon after he had discovered Robin
sneaking out of the sixth floor supply closet, and moments later,
Patrick. It was during their "no strings attached/just sex phase" and apparently Noah had felt the need to play dad.
"So what are you doing, Sport?" He took a long sip of his coffee, a small smile on his lips.
"What are you talking about?"
Noah sighed and stared back at him. "I'm not stupid. What's going on with you and Dr. Scorpio?"
"I don't think that's any of your business, but we are two consenting adults and I've already gotten the third degree from her father."
"Her father? So it's serious?"
Patrick laughed. "C'mon. I don't do serious. We're just having fun. No strings."
"Uh huh."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I see you. I see what you become around her. This is not just sex Patrick, and I can't believe that Robin would agree to something like that."
"She practically wrote the rules Dad."
"You're in more trouble than I thought. Listen, let me give you some advice. In the immortal words of the great Rick Springfield, 'Have a little blind faith. Believe. It's an affair of the heart."
Patrick stared at him blankly. "Was that supposed to help?"
"I don't know. It always worked on your mother."
"Well, I'm glad we had this little conversation Dad, but I've really got to get back to my patients…" Patrick scraped the chair away from the table and got up to leave.
"Hold on." Noah grabbed his son's sleeve. "When it hits you that you are in love with this woman and you have no idea what to do next, I'll be here for you. It happened to me with your mother and I was a wreck."
"Well Dad, don't expect any midnight phone calls from me. This is all working out just the way Robin and I planned it."
Memories pelted him like a reel playing in his mind…Robin drenched at the cabin that first night they spent together, throwing a machete, dancing, cheering at the race track, looking up at him with unbridled excitement, lying on his stomach while reading the paper in bed, and her eyes while they were making love and what that look did to him every time. He let out a short terrified laugh. "I'm in love with Robin Scorpio," he whispered. Oh, his dad was going to have a field day with this. He felt nauseous. Were you supposed to feel nauseous when you were in love?
A knock on his door snapped him out of his reverie, and he crossed the room to open the door and find Aidan there. The Brit was bent over slightly, one hand on the door frame, the other on his hip. "Hey Mate," he said softly.
Patrick didn't like the sound of his voice. The look on his face. He tried to search Aidan's eyes for clues. "What? What have you heard? Did you find her?"
"I just got a call from my Aunt. There's been a discovery. A…body. In Prague. With Robin's ID."
TBC
A/N: If you'd like to read more about Alex Devane-Marick check out her bio here: http/ (Believe it or not we didn't make up any of that brainwashing stuff!)
