His fist raised!

Who shot up our house that night? Kate suddenly asked herself. Who killed Mom? Did Kate really want to walk through that gate?

Why are you in that picture, Dad?

Across the bed, Greg reached in the darkness, fumbling for her.

She wrapped herself in his arms and nestled close to him. He murmured, “Is everything all right?”

She shook her head in tears on the pillow. “No.”

She didn’t know what to trust anymore. “You’ll always be there for me, Greg? Right? I can always trust you.”

“Of course you can, pooch.” He tightened his arms around her.

“No, I need to hear you say it, Greg. I know it’s dumb, but just this once, please.…”

“You can trust me, Kate,” he said softly.

She closed her eyes.

“Whatever happens, baby, you always have me.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

The next day Kate went back to work. It had been almost a month. With both her and Tina out of the lab, a lot of things had been put on hold. Kate deflected the inevitable questions as best she could. She said her mother had been sick. She’d dislocated her shoulder in a fall. But it was good to be back. It just felt a little strange.

Without Tina.

Packer had brought in a new researcher to fill Tina’s place. He was an Indian Ph.D. candidate named Sunil, who had studied cellular physics at Cambridge.

He seemed nice enough, though at first Kate knew she was probably a little cool to him. It was like saying that Tina was never coming back, and Kate didn’t want to feel that way. Packer put him on the project Tina had been working on. He wasn’t yet up to speed.

It was just a little weird, not having her around. Work had to go on, though.

Kate came back to a mountain of things to catch up on. There was tons of data to archive, an updated project-status report to complete, lots of government forms to fill out. Packer was applying to the National Science Foundation for a new grant.

Her shoulder was still too stiff to handle some of her old assignments. Kate could only imagine dropping a petri dish and sending a valuable systemic stem-cell line crashing onto the floor in a mess.

But at some point she couldn’t hold back. She put the paperwork aside.

She went into the lab and took out two dishes filled with covered slides from the specimen fridge.

Leukemic Cytoplasmic Prototype #3. Nucleic Stem-Cell Model 472B.

Tristan and Isolde.

Kate took them over to the Siemens. She placed the leukocytic cell in the viewing tray and flicked the powerful scope on. The squiggle-shaped cell with the familiar dot in the center shone brilliantly into view. Kate smiled. Hey, girl…

It was like saying hello to an old friend.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Kate said, adjusting the settings on the lens. Then she wrapped her magnification goggles around her head and placed the tiny catheter over the stem dish, and with the steady touch of someone who had mastered those little ball games that always came in Cracker Jack boxes, she isolated the cell into the tiny glass tube and jiggled it onto the leukocytic slide.

Kate narrowed the magnification of the Siemens. Both cells appeared.

“I see a guilty look in there,” Kate said, grinning. “You dudes haven’t been stepping out on me with anyone else while I’ve been gone, have you?”

It felt familiar and exciting to see them again. Kate perceived a minute reproduction of the whole world contained in their tiny clusters. A world of clarity and order. One thing she could always trust: the perfect symmetry of truth in a single cell.

She probed the stem. It was as if the clock had suddenly turned back and everything was just as she’d left it. Tina could be about to stick her head in to declare a Caffeine Emergency. Sharon was alive. Kate’s cell phone had never buzzed to say that her father had been arrested. It was nice to hide out here for a moment, even though she knew it was a fantasy.

“Kate.”

Kate lifted her head. It was Sunil.

“Sorry. I was told you could show me how to download data imaging onto the digital machine?”

“Sure.” Kate smiled. He wasn’t so bad. “I was just saying hi to some old friends. I’ll meet you in the library in a second, okay.”

Sunil smiled back. “Thanks.”

As he left, Kate let her forehead rest on the bridge of the scope. Truth was, she had no idea if Tina would ever come back. If she would ever be the same. It was foolish to cling to that hope. The work just couldn’t stop.

Carefully, she transferred the cells back to their sterile dishes. She went to place them back in their home, inside the fridge.

Her cell phone vibrated. Greg, she figured, congratulating her on her first day back. Kate flicked it open, kneeling down to a lower shelf of the fridge. She crooked the phone to her ear. “Hey!”

The voice on the other end was one she hadn’t heard in months. It used to be a friendly one. Now it chilled her. The petri dish slipped out of her hand, crashing to the floor.

“Hello, pumpkin.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

“Daddy…?”

Kate froze. She wasn’t sure what to say or do. Part of her was just excited to hear he was alive-hear his voice at last. Another part didn’t know what she felt. She had wanted to hear her father’s voice for so long-and now it scared her to death.

“Dad, no one knew if you were even alive.”

“I’m sorry I had to make you worry, baby. But I’m here. I’m here… You don’t know how good it is to hear your voice.”

Kate stood quickly and pressed her back against the refrigerator door. Her eyes ran down to the shattered dish on the floor.

“I need to talk with you, Kate.”

She felt a chill pass through her body.

“Daddy, you know what’s happened, don’t you? Mom’s dead.” There was a pause.

“I know that, honey.” Her father sighed.

“She was shot. We buried her last week. If you knew, why weren’t you there?”

She didn’t know what she should tell him. About the picture? Mercado? She held back what she really wanted to say.

“Everyone thinks you’ve done these terrible things. They think you killed your case agent, Margaret Seymour. They showed me pictures of her. They were horrible… Daddy, where have you been? Everyone was so worried about you. Why haven’t you been in touch?”

“Who, Kate?” her father replied, his tone strangely even. “Who thinks those things?”

“Cavetti. The FBI.” Suddenly Kate froze. She had no idea how much she could tell him.

“I need you not to believe whatever they’re telling you, Kate. I didn’t murder that agent. I didn’t hurt anybody. These people killed my wife, Kate. Your mom. I’ve had to hide. I couldn’t be in touch. They’ve taken away everything I loved in my life. You don’t believe them, do you, Kate?”

“I want not to, Daddy, but-”

“You can’t believe them, Kate. I need to see you, baby. This is me talking now. Me…”

She shut her eyes. She gripped the phone with two hands.

This was her dad, the same familiar, reassuring voice she had always trusted. What if it was all part of some plan to frame him? To make it look like he killed that agent? What if it always was Mercado, and what they wanted all along was to have him surface, to use her to get to her father?

A spasm of fear racked Kate’s stomach. “Dad, you have to go to the WITSEC people. You can’t keep hiding forever. You have to turn yourself in.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that easy, pumpkin. I think the FBI let what happened to Sharon take place. I think there are elements there who are in bed with Mercado. They could even be close to you, Kate. I need to see you, honey. I’ve got nowhere else to turn.”