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"How much later?"
"Just later." With a firm hand, he hustled M. J. out to the lobby, where it was every bit as crowded. "Let's go outside," he suggested. "At least we can get out of this madhouse."
They found a spot near the hotel fountain, its trickling waters aglow in a rainbow of colored lights. The sounds of the gathering spilled out even here, in the darkness. From the ballroom came the faint strumming of balalaikas.
He turned to face her, his hair glittering in the reflected lights of the fountain. "What's going on?" he asked.
"I could ask you the same question."
"Are you angry at me for some reason?"
"Zestron-L," she said, looking at him intently. "You have heard of it, haven't you?"
She could see at once that he had. She caught a glimpse of shock in his eyes, and then his expression smoothed into unreadability. So he knew. All this time he knew which drug might be killing these people.
"Let me refresh your memory, in case you've forgotten," she went on. "Zestron-L is a long-acting narcotic, new generation, of the class levo-N-cyclobutyl-"
"I know what the hell it is."
"Then you also know Cygnus holds the patent."
"Yes."
"Did you also know your drug was out on the streets?"
"It's not possible. We're still in the research stage- primate trials. It hasn't gone to human trials yet."
"I'm afraid human trials have already started. The lab is South Lexington. And the results aren't too encouraging. Bad side effects. Mainly, death."
"But it hasn't been released yet!"
"Nicos Biagi got his hands on it."
"How do you know?"
"The hospital couldn't ID it, so they sent the blood sample to a university lab. A lucky break, too. They were able to identify it."
"There are two other victims-"
"Yes, and a fu
"Don't you think you sound just the slightest bit paranoid?"
"Paranoid? No, I'm afraid I've never had much of an imagination. It's one of my faults."
He moved closer to her, so threateningly close she had to fight the impulse to retreat a step. "Whatever your faults, Dr. Novak, a lack of imagination isn't one of them."
"Let me lay out the facts, disturbing but true. First, Jane Doe's specimens were lost. I know I labeled them properly, I filled out all the right forms, and put them in the right box."
"The carrier could have lost it. Or it could've been stolen from his vehicle. There are dozens of possibilities."
"Then there's the matter of Xenia Vargas. Her specimens did make it to the state lab, but they can't ID the drug. So they send it to an outside lab for further testing. Guess which lab?" She looked him in the eye. "Cygnus."
He didn't even flinch. Calmly he said, "We routinely handle requests from the state. We're only thirty miles away and we're better equipped."
"Third, there's the matter of Dr. Michael Dietz, Nicos Biagi's doctor. He identifies the drug as Zestron-L. Then he resigns from Hancock General and skips town. I think he was forced out by the hospital. Because Cygnus just happens to be a major donor to Hancock General."
"Cygnus had nothing to do with Dietz's resignation. He was already on his way out."
"How would you know that?"
"I'm on the hospital board. Three malpractice suits were more than we'd tolerate. Dietz was a disaster waiting to happen. His license was already in jeopardy."
M. J. paused. That would account for Dietz's reluctance to face the press. He didn't need the publicity.
"But Zestron-L is your drug. And someone's trying to keep its identity from the ME. Someone's protecting Cygnus."
He began to pace back and forth by the fountain. "This is bizarre," he muttered. "I don't see how that ID could be right."
"You can't argue with a lab result."
He stopped and looked at her, the gaudy lights from the fountain washing him in their watery glow. "No," he said at last. "You're right. I can't."
The absolute steadiness of his gaze made her want to believe that there were no lies between them, no hidden agendas, that his bewilderment was real. I must be getting soft, she thought. A pair of blue-gray eyes, a tuxedo, a man too gorgeous for words, and my horse sense bites the dust. What is wrong with me?
"Come with me," he said, and held out his hand.
She didn't move, feeling shaken by the sudden temptation to take his hand, to feel her whole body swallowed in his warmth. This was what she'd fought against, from the first time they'd met, this quickening of desire.
He was still holding out his hand, still trapping her in a gaze she couldn't seem to escape. "Come on, M. J.," he said.
"Where?"
"To Cygnus. The lab. Tonight, I'm going to root out the answers. And I want you there with me, as a witness."
She shook her head. "I'm not so sure that you'll like the answers."
"You may be right. But it's clear to me that you're not going to let up. One way or another, you're going to dig up the truth. So I might as well work with you. Not against you."
The logic of the devil. How could she argue with it?
She said, at last, "All right. I'll go with you."
"First let me smooth things over with Isabel."
Back in the ballroom, she watched him approach Isabel, saw the hurried excuses, the apologetic head-shaking. Isabel glanced in M. J.'s direction with a poorly disguised look of a
M. J. spotted Ed by the buffet table. She sidled up to him. "Ed," she said.
He gri
"Quantrell's taking me to his lab tonight."
"Lucky you."
"I want you to let Beamis and Shradick know. Just in case."
"In case what?"
Instantly she fell silent as Adam came towards her. "Just keep it in mind," she muttered to Ed. Then, with an automatic smile pasted in place, she followed Adam out the door.
They went into the hotel garage. "We'll take your car," he said. "Isabel's going home in mine."
"She didn't look too happy about it."
"She hasn't much of a choice."
M. J. shook her head in disbelief. "Are you always this thoughtful of your lady friends?"
"Isabel," he sighed, "is a lovely woman with a cozy inheritance. And a whole stable of suitors. She hardly needs me to keep her warm at night."
"Do you?"
"Do you keep Ed Novak warm at night?"
"None of your business."
He cocked his head. "Ditto."
They got into the rented Mercedes. The smell of leather upholstery mingled with the scent of him-his warmth, his after-shave. It left her feeling a little lightheaded and more than a little insane. Since when did the mere scent of a man make her dizzy?
Since this man , she thought in irritation as she started the car. They swung into evening traffic.
"How do you like the car?" he asked.
"It's okay."
"Okay?" he said, obviously waiting for her to elaborate.
"Yeah. It's okay."
He looked out the window. "Next time, I'll have to choose something that'll really impress you."
"Is that what you were trying to do? Impress me?"
"Yes."
"In that case, I'll just say it. This baby handles like a dream, looks like a million bucks, and makes me feel young, gorgeous, and omnipotent. And I'm only going to give her back after a lot of kicking and screaming."
"That's better." He smiled at her, his gaze lingering on her face. "You know," he said softly, "you really should wear your hair loose like that more often. It suits you."
It was the most offhand of compliments, but it was enough to send even her cynical heart skipping. You're losing it, Novak, she thought, gripping the steering wheel. So he's got a silver tongue. Sterling silver. You've never let flattery do this to you before.