Chapter Fifty-Nine

Trapper sat at his computer, staring at the screen. Once he hit the button, his name would go on a false death certificate; something he knew could be considered perjury if anyone wanted to pursue it. But he had agreed that before he left the hospital, Ellen Frank would expire, and consequently Arnold would hold a press conference that would hit the late evening news. After that, he could only guess what may or may not occur. He pressed the enter button and watched the computer change her status to expired. Then he picked up the phone and dialed. "Is Allen with you?" He heard what sounded like an exasperated breath on the other end.

"He's been standing over my shoulder ever since I started. I keep telling him he's slowing me down."

"Would you tell him my part is done? It's Arnold's turn now. How are you coming along?"

"I'm almost finished testing, and as soon as I show Agent Allen that it works, I'll install it and let it configure the new encrypted passkeys. Allen will deliver Dr. Applebaum's and Ernie's, and I'll have yours with me."

"I have to go by the house and pick up some clothes. Is there anything else I can pick up?"

"I have no wine, so if you want wine while you're at my place, you need to get some."

"Do I get white or red?"

"Some of each. If you get there first, you can start dinner. There are several choices; just raid the fridge."

Trapper chuckled. "You planned it this way, didn't you? I'll see you there."

Gathering the files and charts he still needed to review, he shoved them into his satchel, slipped on his jacket and left, first for the wine market, and then to Leah's house and was followed all the way.

"I can't get in with this decoder," said Allen. "So I think your programming will do it."

Leah had already started gathering her paperwork, shoving it into her briefcase. "Good, then if you'll excuse me, I'm going home."

"Just a minute, Ms. Haverty. How did you get to nukes earlier today?"

"What do you mean?"

"I told you Xanda wanted Ms. Frank dead because she could close the company and send the higher-ups to prison. You zoned in on nukes."

"Oh, come on," she said incredulously. Two plus two equals four, Agent."

Allen smirked. "I'm not sure most people would draw that line. Do you drive with that foot in a cast?"

"No, I don't. If Dr. McIntyre isn't available to take me home, I take a cab."

Allen made a call. "I need a cab in front of the hospital with one of our guys driving. No, he needs to look like a cabbie."

"Agent Allen, can I offer you some advice?" she asked as she stopped loading her briefcase.

"I'd rather you didn't, but I know that won't stop you." He continued putting his decoding equipment away without even looking at her.

She chuckled. "The military nurses you have with Ms. Frank are fine. They actually look like nurses. But the men…an idiot could spot them as military a mile away."

Finally paying attention, Allen stopped what he was doing and scrutinized her. "How do you mean?"

"Their posture, the way they carry themselves when they walk, and especially their hair styles scream military. I know the men you have watching Dr. McIntyre and me and my house are not military. They're FBI…your guys."

"It's that bad?"

She raised her brows and said, "They're a dead giveaway," as she reached over to pick up her ringing phone. "Leah Hav…just a moment. For you," she said, glaring and passing the phone.

"Yeah. We'll be right out," he said, hanging up the phone. "Your cab's here. Ms. Haverty, I'll need your home phone number."

"You have it in my file," she said, limping to the elevator.

"Yes, but I don't carry your file with me. If something happens here, I may need to contact you to stay away from the hospital."

Once on board the elevator, she took a business card out of her purse and wrote her home number on the back, then passed the card to him. "That might be all right for me, but you will not keep Dr. McIntyre away. He takes his patient's welfare as well as the safety of the hospital staff very seriously. And by the way, here's your pager."

"What's this for?"

"The encryption software will send a page to my pager and that pager if an entry attempt by a decoder is detected." Handing him a piece of paper, she continued, "Here's a list of codes it can send. These tell you the area and the computer where the break-in was attempted. I figured by the time I got the page and called you, and you called whoever you needed to, the hacker would be long gone. This removes the time associated with one of those steps."

"Can you get me another one?"

"You'll have it tomorrow."

Sitting in a chair with one leg crossed over the other and reading through a stapled medical report, Trapper looked up when he heard the sliding door open. He watched as Leah dropped her briefcase on the sofa, walked into the kitchen area, prepared a concoction made up of a powder and glass of water, and then ran her fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp. She gave way to another set of fingers, strong ones, pushing up into her hair from the back and taking over the massage. "If you keep this up, you can have anything you want. Anything at all," she purred.

Moving his hands down, he kneaded her neck and shoulders. "Your muscles are tighter than a drumhead. Did something else happen?"

"No. I just don't work well with an audience breathing down my neck." Trapper lowered his hands to her arms, but she implored, "Please, don't stop."

Leaning over her shoulder, he kissed her cheek. "I have to check our dinner in the oven, but I promise I'll give you a back rub tonight." She admired him as he bent down and opened the oven. "This still needs some time. I just put it in."

"Can Allen really bring you back to active duty?"

"By the rules, no. The military can only involuntarily reinstate someone who retired or was separated which means they had further plans for them. I only had three years service, so I wasn't eligible for retirement. They discharged me before the war was over. I didn't even see it through to the end."

"So he's bluffing."

"Probably."

"Good. Now why are you still in your work clothes, Dr. McIntyre?" He looked down at himself and shrugged. His tie was loosened, but everything else he had worn to the office was still intact. Grabbing the tie, she pulled him toward bathroom. "Come with me. I'll help you change."

A crooked smile appeared on his face. "Only if I get to return the favor."

Leaning over the back of the sofa behind Trapper, Leah passed a glass of wine to him as he read through his medical reports. "This isn't fair. If I have to stop working after eight hours, why don't you? And don't tell me you didn't have heart surgery. It seems to me you're as likely to need heart surgery as me, considering how much you work." She walked around the sofa and sat next to him, snuggling against his shoulder and biting his earlobe. "Dinner was wonderful. What do you call that?"

Her ministrations at his ear didn't seem to do anything for him. He simply raised an eyebrow and said, "A casserole," as he continued flipping through his report.

Sitting back, Leah said, "I suppose if my skin was laid open from my chest to my coochipop, exposing my internal organs, you'd be all over me, wouldn't you?"

"Mm hm."

Shooting up off the sofa with a disgusted growl, she went to the television and turned on the news while Trapper watched over his glasses wearing playful smile. She returned to the sofa, sitting with her good leg underneath her, and as the news came on, Arnold's voice caught their attention. Setting his report to the side, he moved his arm around her shoulders, waiting for the program introduction to pass. Gazing at her even as she stuck her chin up in the air and turned away, a restrained smile appeared on his lips. "Coochipop?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but Arnold was on the television screen again announcing with what seemed like great remorse that shortly after Ms. Frank had been moved from the operating room to ICU, she had succumbed to her injuries. When the reporter asked why investigators were still at the hospital, Arnold said, "As you know, Jason Wright's death is being investigated as a murder. Ms. Frank's case was, of course, being treated as attempted murder which now becomes murder. The investigators will be here for a few more days asking questions of all our staff who were involved in their care, and of course, the hospital is giving them our full cooperation."

Arnold excused himself as the camera focused on the reporter. "Our Livermore, California correspondent went to Xanda National Laboratories and spoke to the CEO, Tom Harris."

"Mr. Harris, as you know, one of the two scientists involved in what the police initially considered attempted murder died the evening they were found in a trash compactor. We've just been informed that the second victim, Ms. Ellen Frank, has died as well. Do you have any comment?"

Showing a surprising lack of emotion, Mr. Harris answered. "Myself and all the staff here at Xanda mourn the deaths of our co-workers and friends, Jason and Ellen. It's difficult to imagine that someone could do what was done to them to any living being. We will be cooperating fully with investigators working to find the perpetrators and bring them to justice."

"Mr. Harris, do you feel the attack on the two scientists had anything to do with their work here at Xanda?"

"It seems unlikely. They were involved in research dealing with distribution systems for eco-friendly crop pesticides." Someone whispered in his ear. "Please excuse me, "he said, turning and leaving the reporter with a live camera.

"Apparently, there's a lot going on at Xanda National Labs tonight," said the reporter. "We'll be here, getting the reaction of laboratory workers for the next few days."

Leah stood and turned the television off. "They don't seem upset at all, do they?"

"It's Xanda," said Trapper, rising from the sofa. "They've been investigated so many times no one really expects them to act otherwise."

"I don't recall them ever being involved in a murder investigation."

"No. Mostly cover-ups. But they've been getting cockier over the years. Maybe they stepped it up. And speaking of stepping up," said Trapper, taking one of Leah's hands and backing toward the dais on which the bed sat.