'I really need to get moving,' I said. 'I have an appointment.'
Henry looked at me, then said into the mike, 'He's right here.'
Jesus. If Geli had to ask if I was at the door, that meant she wasn't watching me on camera from the secu¬rity office. She was probably on her way here. My limbic brain was telling me to run like hell, but how far would I get? Harmless-looking Henry was armed with a 9mm Glock automatic. Still, it took a supreme act of will not to bolt for the door.
Henry listened to his ear-bud for a few seconds, look¬ing confused. 'Are you sure?' he asked. 'All right.'
He came around the desk, and I suddenly knew that if Henry reached for his gun, survival instinct would dic¬tate the next few seconds. I tensed for action when his hands dropped, but then he squatted and began his nor¬mal pat-down, starting with my pant legs.
Geli had decided to let me go. Why? Because she can't be sure whether I've talked to the president.
'Good to go, Doc,' Henry said, patting me on the shoulder. 'For a second I thought she-I mean they- wanted me to hold you here.'
As I looked into Henry's face, I saw something in his eyes that I didn't understand. Then I did. He didn't like Geli Bauer any more than I did. In fact, he was afraid of her.
The minute I cleared the armored-glass doors, my cell phone began ringing. I hit SEND and held the phone to my ear.
'Hello?'
'David! Where the hell have you been?'
'Don't say your name,' I snapped, recognizing Rachel's voice.
'I've been trying to reach you for an hour!'
No cellular transmissions could pass through the cop¬per cladding that encased the Trinity building. 'Just tell me what's wrong.'
'Did you come to my office this morning?'
'Your office? Of course not. Why?'
'Because someone practically tore it to pieces. Your file is missing, and everything's out of place.'
I sucked in a lungful of air and forced myself to keep walking toward my car. 'I haven't been near your office today. Why do you think I'd do something like that?'
'To bolster your delusions in my eyes! To make me think they're real!'
She sounded close to hysteria. Had she understood nothing last night? 'We need to talk. But not like this. Are you at your office now?'
'No, I'm on Highway 15.'
Rachel could take 15 all the way from the Duke Medical Center to Chapel Hill. 'Are you in a cab?'
'No. I went and got my car this morning.'
'Meet me where you saw me making the videotape.'
'You mean-'
'You know where. I'm on my way. Hang up now.'
She did.
It took all my self-control not to run the last few steps to my car.
CHAPTER 12
Rachel's white Saab was parked in front of my house. Rachel herself was sitting on my front steps, her chin in her hands like a college girl waiting for a class to begin. Instead of her usual silk blouse and skirt, she wore blue jeans and a white cotton oxford shirt. I tapped my horn. She looked up, unsmiling. Waving once, I pulled into my garage and walked through the house to open the front door.
'Sorry you got here first,' I said, glancing up the street for unfamiliar vehicles.
Her eyes were red from crying. She went into the liv¬ing room but didn't sit. Instead, she paced around my sparse furniture, unable to remain still.
'Tell me what happened,' I said.
She paused long enough to fix me with a glare, then continued pacing. 'I was at the hospital, checking on a patient who attempted suicide two days ago.'
'And?'
'I decided to run by my office and dictate some charts. When I got there, I realized someone else had been there. I mean, the office was locked, but I could tell, you know?'
'You said the place was torn to pieces.'
She averted her eyes. 'Not exactly. But lots of things were out of place. I know, because I like my things a cer¬tain way. Books arranged from small to large, papers stacked… never mind.'
'You're obsessive-compulsive.'
Her dark eyes flashed. 'There are worse problems than having OCD.'
'Agreed. You said my file was missing?'
'Yes.'
'Any other patient records missing?'
'No.'
'That's it, then. What I don't understand is why they would steal my file. Why not just photocopy it? I'm sure they've read it before. They probably read it every week.'
Rachel stopped pacing and looked at me in disbelief. 'How could they do that?'
'By sneaking someone into your office. Probably the nights of my appointment days.'
'Why didn't I notice anything before?'
'Maybe this time they were in a hurry.'
'Why?'
'They're frightened.'
'Of what?'
'Me. Of what I've done. What I might do.'
She sat on the edge of my sofa as though to collect herself. 'I need to be clear on this, David. Just who is they? The NSA?'
'Yes and no. They're the security people for Project Trinity, which is funded by the NSA.'
'And this is who you say murdered Andrew Fielding?'
'Yes.'
She closed her eyes. 'I had a friend at the medical cen¬ter test that white powder you gave me. It's not contami¬nated with anthrax or any other known pathogen or poi¬son.' Her eyes opened and looked into mine. 'It's sand, David. Gypsum. White sand. No threat to anybody.'
My mind began spinning with the possible signifi¬cance of that. Microchips were made of silicon, a kind of sand. Was gypsum the basis of some new semiconductor Godin had discovered? Maybe Fielding was trying to tell me something like that without being overt-
'Have you tried to reach the president again?' Rachel asked.
I opened my mouth in surprise.
'What?'
'I forgot to check my answering machine. Excuse me.'
I went to the kitchen. The machine's LED showed one message waiting. When I hit the button, a New England accent crackled from the tiny speaker:
'Dr. Tennant? This is Ewan McCaskell, the presi¬dent's chief of staff. I remember you from your visit a couple of years ago. I just received your message. I'm sure you understand that we're very busy over here. I can't involve the president until I know what this is about, but I do want to talk to you as soon as possible. Please remain at this number, and I'll call back as soon as time permits.'
My relief was almost overwhelming. I put my hand on the counter to steady myself. The caller ID unit showed that McCaskell’s call had come in twenty minutes ago.
