He shrugged. “There could still be side effects,” he reminded her.
“Like what? Me growing a beard?” she quipped.
Aldrich laughed. “We just need to be patient.”
The smile faded from her lips. He’d recently applied those same words to their relationship. Given the circumstances, his noble reasons had been justified—the huge corporate responsibilities now commanding all his time and energy. Problem was, those circumstances wouldn’t be getting any easier going forward.
Sensing what she was thinking, he parried with “I was going down to Starbucks for a coffee. Want me to pick you up one of those frappa-mochasoy-latte Frankenbrews you like?”
She snickered. “I’ve already exceeded my caffeine quota for today, but why not. And it’s
“Right.” He made to leave, but paused to offer some encouragement. “Remember, Charlotte: we know the world isn’t flat and the sun is the center of our solar system. The answer is there,” he said, pointing to the monitor. “You’ll figure it out.” He gave a wink and made his way into the corridor.
Through the clear glass partition, she watched as he got onto the elevator. “But I’m not Copernicus,” she mumbled as the doors slid closed in front of him.
As she twirled her chair back to the computer, the desk phone chimed. She pressed the speakerphone button. “BMS Genetic Studies Department.”
“Doc, it’s Lou.”
Charlotte immediately recognized the security guard’s distinct Brooklyn accent. The big voice complemented the man’s imposing stature. “Hey, Lou. What’s up?”
“Just a sec . . .”
Through the receiver she could hear his heavy footsteps, then a door closing to block out the sound of voices in the background. Then came the groaning of upholstery and some heavy breathing as Lou settled into a chair.
“Sorry ’bout that. Had to come into the office before I talked to you. Anyway, we got a guy down here—out front at the desk. Askin’ for you. Told him you ain’t workin’ here no more. Seven freakin’ times I told him.”
Charlotte straightened in the chair.
After all she’d told Evan about what had happened in Vatican City— that goon, Salvatore Conte, quite literally chasing her out the front gate—they’d agreed it would be best to leave her name off the company directory. To further limit her exposure, Aldrich had taken her off media duty too. She’d even gotten a new cell phone number and home number.
Lou continued, “But this stubborn mother—uh, pardon my French— refuses to vacate the premises till we tell ’im where you’re at. I’m gonna call the police, but—”
“Did you get a name?”
“Sure. But he sounds like a leprechaun,” he said, digressing. “I think he’s after your Lucky Charms—”
“My folks were Irish too, Lou,” she reminded him. “Remember, I’ve got the reddish curly hair, green eyes?”
“Ooh. Sorry ’bout that. But you’ve got that great tan—”
“His
“Right. Just a sec.”
There was a pause, then she heard his chair creak, the crinkle of paper.
“Name’s Donovan. Patrick Donovan.”
“Just thought I’d tell ya before I call the black-and-whites. Case he says something and they call ya.”
“Wait, Lou,” she said, still caught up in confusion. “Is he bald, about five-nine . . . mid, late forties maybe?”
“Bald as a baby’s butt cheek. And he ain’t no NBA draft pick, age or height, I can tell ya that.”
“Give him a pass and send him up.”
“You sure?” he asked, disappointed.
“He’s safe. I’ll vouch for him.”
“If you say so. Just give a shout if he gets fresh.”
She disconnected the call and sat back in her chair. What could possibly bring Donovan all the way from Vatican City?
11
******
Each time the elevator doors opened, Charlotte reacted like a little girl waiting for her daddy to come home. She even caught herself nibbling at her unmanicured fingernails.
During her short stay in Vatican City—which Patrick Donovan had arranged with BMS—the priest had been a consummate host, looking out for her at every turn. She’d dismissed any notion that he could have been responsible for siccing Conte on her when she made to leave Vatican City unannounced. That look in Donovan’s eyes when Conte first wheeled the crated ossuary into the Vatican’s lab? Conte was certainly not under his control.
