No One Lives Forever

Jasmine understood the concept.

'Ah, Chicago,' the man repeated. A forced smile. 'Yes, you said you were here about Mr. Charboneau. I recognized the name of Ms. Lee as his bodyguard.' He turned his head and kept an eye on Jasmine, who stepped behind his chair. She enjoyed her little game of intimidation.

The facility director continued, 'His kidnapping came as a real shock.'

'Yes, I would imagine.' Christian nodded.

The doctor seemed to expect his visit and acted like they'd met before. He should've been more curious, like any outsider to a case. Phillips should have wondered whether he'd been hired to investigate the kidnapping, or if his protective services firm was responsible for Charboneau's security from the start. Did Jasmine work for him? Was he working with the local police? Did he have any inside information to share? But none of those questions occurred to Phillips. Instead, the man looked like he'd bitten into a habanero pepper and couldn't spit it out.

Christian pulled the photo of Rodrigo Santo from his pocket and handed it to Phillips. 'Tell me, Doctor. You ever see this man?'

The doctor pursed his lips and shook his head. 'No, can't say that I have.'

Again, the natural question would be for Phillips to ask if the man in the photo was connected to the kidnapping, but he didn't ask it. Very strange.

'Tell me, Doc. The kidnapping. Does this kind of thing happen often in Cuiaba?'

'Unfortunately, more times than I care to admit. It's become a means of support for a struggling economy, I'm afraid.' He swallowed, avoiding Christian's eyes.

'Looks like you have a nice family. You say they like it here?'

'Oh, yes, very much.'

Another strained smile. More silence.

'Boy, they gotta hate all the added protection. Do you keep your family under lock and key, like the way you do at this place?'

'What do you mean? They come and go—' The man stopped himself and backpedaled. 'It's not that bad, really.'

'If abductions are so commonplace, why haven't you added any protection for your wife and kids? Especially right after the incident with Charboneau.'

He had baited the doctor, and the man knew it.

'I do hope they find Mr. Charboneau soon.' Phillips shifted his eyes to the pen in his hand. Tap tap tap. 'He's been a staunch supporter of our work here. Without his backing, our funding will be severely limited.'

'Who are the other supporters of this facility?'

'We're privately financed. I'm afraid that's confidential.' Another roadblock.

Until he spoke the words, Christian hadn't thought about other potential backers for such research. All this time, he'd convinced himself his father had ulterior motives, for his own personal gain. And the man may still be up to his nose hairs in illegal motives, but what about others who might capitalize on this endeavor? Would Jasmine know the players involved? Keep an open mind, Delacorte. His old man thrived in a world of smoke and mirrors, a labyrinth of illusion to obscure the truth. Nothing would be simple.

Phillips cleared his throat and changed the subject. 'Why are you here, Mr. Delacorte? I'm not sure I can help.'

Alarms blared in Christian's head. The doctor's body language told him the man was a bundle of nerves, wrapped way too tight.

'I'd like to understand why Nicholas Charboneau was in Brazil . . . and his connection to genetics research. Can you help me with that?'

Before the facility director answered, another voice interrupted.

'Dr. Phillips has already said he can't help, but perhaps I can.'

Jasmine's eyes flashed anger as she recognized Captain Luis Duarte. He leaned against the doorway, dressed in his khaki uniform, eyeing Christian with suspicion.

'If you have questions regarding the investigation, it would be best to direct them to me.' The captain crooked his lips into a half smile.

'I'll take you up on that, Captain.' Christian returned the man's grin. On the outside, he kept a confident facade, but on the inside was another story. How did Duarte have the inside track on everything? 'But first, I was hoping to get a tour of this impressive facility. Can that be arranged, Dr. Phillips?'

All eyes went back to Phillips. The facility director looked for a reprieve from the police captain, but none came.

'I suppose . . . maybe a quick tour.' The man stood and buttoned his suit coat.

Duarte let Jasmine and the doctor pass, but held an arm across the door when Christian approached. He leaned in, his voice low.

'When you are done wasting your time here, stop by my office. I am curious why you failed to report your hit and run outside the hotel last night.'

'I figured you already knew about it, Captain.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

Christian didn't hesitate. 'You said it yourself, this is your town. Nothing gets by you.'

'And still, you believe you can hide things from me. A blood sacrifice in your penthouse suite?'

'Hey, when in Rome . . .' Christian shrugged, then reconsidered. 'I can explain . . .'

'Yes, you will.'

Duarte didn't look impressed by his sense of humor. And now the captain eyed the bag he had slung over his shoulder, the Macumba paraphernalia and the dead snake. Please . . . don't ask. The man narrowed his eyes. Hoping for the best, Christian raised his chin and waited to see what the cop would do. When steeped in hot water up to your pie hole, what's ten more degrees?

Duarte furrowed his brow and heaved a sigh. 'My office, after your tour. And you'd better have answers to my questions, Mr. Delacorte.'

The man dropped his arm to let him pass. With his footsteps echoing down the hall, Christian replayed the cop's words in his head from the night they'd met. Never underestimate the necessity to protect yourself against evil. The curse of the evil eye has its power.

Pure insight or subtle threat? With every face-to-face, the answer to that question took shape.

Plus, the man knew his next moves even before he did. How had the captain found out about their visit to Genotech Labs . . . and so soon? He'd barely sat down before Duarte made his appearance. Had Dr. Phillips told him, or did Duarte have another informant inside the lab?

Clearly, there were reasons for his growing paranoia. Even now, he didn't have to look over his shoulder to know Duarte stared a hole in his back. He felt the searing heat of it.

'What we've gained from human genome-mapping is a better understanding of how certain diseases act on a molecular and cellular level, the brain's pathways associated with the affliction.' In his element, Dr. Phillips grinned as he ushered Christian and Jasmine through another massive lab.

Pointing to a microscope, the doctor added, 'And with advances in atomic force microscopy, we have improved our DNA mapping and sequencing techniques. Cell tissue yields its secrets when explored under high- resolution imaging. It may not be long before we can predict, with pinpoint accuracy, what risk a person may have for certain ailments. Then we can tailor a remedy specific to them, one without the usual side effects.'

The man beamed with pride, hands on his hips. 'And there are so many other gains to be made. It's an exciting field, I can assure you.'

Lab technicians in white coats barely looked up from their work. A sea of white and stainless steel blended with high-tech equipment Christian had never seen before. A medicinal smell remained a constant in the air. And despite the hot temperature outside, the indoor rooms were maintained at a chilly level, probably for the benefit of all the pricey computers utilized across the expansive facility.

'Quite impressive, Doctor.' Christian returned his smile, sneaking a glance toward Jasmine, who had not changed her expression. 'Would this research help with natural addictions, such as overeating, addition to