“I don’t think he’s human,” Bob said then.
Zoe wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting from this conversation—a confession, perhaps, or even just an apology, but it wasn’t this.
“And I don’t think you are either,” he added.
“Oh, please.”
“Why else do you think he was so attracted to you? He recognized something in you—I’m sure of it.”
Wolfe’s voice was back in her head.
“I think we’ve taken this about as far as it can go,” Zoe said. This time she was the one to cut the connection.
The phone’s online light immediately lit up once more. She hesitated for a long moment, then brought the handset up to her ear. “I am not bullshitting you,” Bob said.
“Look, why don’t you take it the tabloids—they’d eat it up.”
“You don’t think I’ve tried? I’d do anything to see him stopped.”
“Why?”
“Because the world’s tough enough without having something like him wandering through it, randomly shooting down people’s hopes. He’s the father of fear. You know what fear stands for? Fuck Everything And Run. You want the whole world to be like that? People screw up their lives enough on their own; they don’t need a ... a
The scariest thing, Zoe realized, was that he really sounded sincere. “So what am I then?” she asked.
“The mother of hope?”
“I don’t know. But I think you scare him.”
Zoe had to laugh. Wolfe had her so creeped out she hadn’t even been able to go to her own apartment last night, and Bob thought she was the scary one?
“Look, could we meet somewhere?” Bob said.
“I don’t think so.”
“Somewhere public. Bring along a friend—bring a dozen friends. Face to face, I know I can make you understand.”
Zoe thought about it.
“It’s important,” Bob said. “Look at it this way: if I’m a nut, you’ve got nothing to lose except some time. But if I’m right, then you’d really be—how did you put it?—leaving the world in a little better shape than it was before you got there. A lot better shape.”
“Okay,” Zoe said. “Tomorrow noon. I’ll be at the main entrance of the Williamson Street Mall.”
“Great.” Zoe started to hang up, pausing when he added: “And Zoe, cool it with the onair digs at Wolfe, would you? You don’t want to see him pissed.”
Zoe hung up.
“Your problem,” Hilary said as the two of them sat on the edge of the indoor fountain just inside the main entrance of the Williamson Street Mall, “is that you keep expecting to find a man who’s going to solve all of your problems for you.”
“Of course. Why didn’t I realize that was the problem?”
“You know,” Hilary went on, ignoring Zoe’s sarcasm. “Like who you are, where you’re going, who you want to be.”
Rupert sat on his haunches by Zoe’s knee, head leaning in towards her as she absently played with the hair on the top of his head.
“So what’re you saying?” she asked. “That I should be looking for a woman instead?”
Hilary shook her head. “You’ve got to find yourself first. Everything else’ll follow.”
“I’m not looking for a man.”
“Right.”
“Well, not actively. And besides, what’s that got to with anything?”
“Everything. You wouldn’t be in this situation, you wouldn’t have all these weird guys coming on to you, if you didn’t exude a kind of confusion about your identity. People pick up on that kind of thing, even if the signals are just subliminal. Look at yourself You’re a nice normallooking woman with terrific skin and hair and great posture. The loony squad shouldn’t be hitting on you. Who’s that actor you like so much?”
“Mel Gibson.”
“Guys like him should be hitting on you. Or at least, guys like your idolized version of him. Who knows what Gibson’s really like?”
Over an early breakfast, Zoe had laid out the whole story for her friend. Hilary had been skeptical about meeting with Bob, but when she realized that Zoe was going to keep the rendezvous, with or without her, she’d allowed herself to be talked into coming along. She’d left work early enough to return to her apartment to wake Zoe and then the two of them had taken the subway over to the Mall.
“You think this is all a waste of time, don’t you?” Zoe said. “Don’t you?”
Zoe shrugged. A young security guard walked by and eyed the three of them, his gaze lingering longest on Rupert, but he didn’t ask them to leave. Maybe he thought Rupert was a seeingeye dog, Zoe thought. Maybe he just liked the look of Hilary. Most guys did.
Hilary glanced at her watch. “He’s five minutes late. Want to bet he’s a noshow?”
But Zoe wasn’t listening to her. Her gaze was locked on the redhaired man who had just come in off the street.
“What’s the matter?” Hilary asked.
“That’s him—the redhaired guy.”
“I thought you’d never met this Bob.”
“I haven’t,” Zoe said. “That’s Gordon Wolfe.”
Or was it? Wolfe was still decked out like a highroller on the make, but there was something subtly different about him this afternoon. His carriage, his whole body language had changed.
Zoe was struck with a sudden insight. A long shiver went up her spine. It started out as a low thrum and climbed into a highpitched, almost piercing note, like Mariah Carey running through all seven of her octaves.
“Hello, Zoe,” Wolfe said as he joined them.
Zoe looked up at him, trying to find a physical difference. It was Wolfe, but it wasn’t. The voice was the same as the one on the phone, but people could change their voices; a good actor could look like an entirely different person just through the use of his body language.
Wolfe glanced at Hilary, raising his eyebrows questioningly. “You ... you’re Bob?” Zoe asked.
He nodded. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“You’re twins?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.” His gaze flicked to Hilary again. “How much does your friend know?”
“My name’s Hilary and Zoe’s pretty well filled me in on the whole sorry business.”
“That’s good.”
Hilary shook her head. “No, it isn’t. The whole thing sucks. Why don’t just pack up your silly game and take it someplace else?”
Rupert stirred by Zoe’s feet. The sharpness in Hilary’s voice and Zoe’s tension brought the rumbling start of a growl to his chest.
“I didn’t start anything,” Bob said. “Keep your anger for someone who deserves it.”
“Like Wolfe,” Zoe said.
Bob nodded.
“Your twin.”
“It’s more like he’s my other half,” Bob said. “We share the same body, except he doesn’t know it.
Only I’m aware of the relationship.”
“Jesus, would you give us a break,” Hilary said. “This is about as lame as that episode of—”
Zoe laid a hand on her friend’s knee. “Wait a minute,” she said. “You’re saying Wolfe’s a schizophrene?”
“I’m not sure if that’s technically correct,” Bob replied.
