Both halves…

Her father knew that she had seen Mercado now.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

Greg pressed the speed-dial button for Kate’s cell phone over and over.

C’mon, Kate, please pick up.

And for maybe the fiftieth time, her voice mail responded: “It’s Kate. You know what to do…” There was no point leaving another message. He’d left a dozen already. Greg tossed the phone away and put his head back on the couch. He’d been trying her all night.

He had gone to their apartment, praying she’d come home, hoping his pleas would have some effect. He slept on the couch, but barely. At several points he’d awoken, thinking he heard her key in the door, her footsteps.

But it was always just Fergus, shifting or nudging his water bowl during the night.

How would she ever trust him again?

It was true, of course, everything that had come out when the book fell open. That he’d kept a terrible secret from her. That he’d pretended to be someone he wasn’t. Who do you work for, Greg? All true, except her accusation that it was some kind of duty or job.

He had never deceived her for a second about what was in his heart.

What could he tell her that he hadn’t already? That it was all something out of his control. That it had happened a long time ago, before they met. A part of him he tried to deny by pretending that he was simply a doctor, a faithful husband, her best friend. Supporting her as she lived through the horror of finding out about her father-how many times he prayed that the truth would never be told.

But feuds of blood, they never stay buried. They were his family, too.

Still, he had always loved her. He had always tried his best to protect her. He had never lied to her about that. How could his heart ache so badly if it weren’t all true?

He was ashamed of the bloodline that had caused him to do this. Ashamed of the debt he’d had to pay. Yet without them he would be just a boy on the streets. Not a person schooled in the United States. A doctor. Someone free. How foolish he was to have believed all this time that he was someone else.

Fergus nestled up to him. Greg pulled the dog’s face close and kissed his snout. Greg knew that Kate was in danger. And there was nothing he could do.

Suddenly the cell phone rang. Greg lunged across the couch and flipped it open, not checking who it was. “Hello, Kate…?”

But the voice on the other end was the one he most feared. His heart dropped off a cliff.

“Es su tiempo ahora, hijo,” the voice said, softly but decisively.

It is your time now, son.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

There was only one place Kate could think to go. She caught the Number 5 train at Borough Hall back into Manhattan, rode it all the way to the Bronx. It was a Sunday afternoon. No one would be there. She knew she’d be safe there until she figured out what to do. And she hadn’t taken her insulin shot in two days.

Kate got off at the 180th Street station in the Bronx. She thought she spotted the same Latino guy in a Yankees cap whom she’d noticed at the station in Brooklyn, but she wasn’t sure. On the street she quickened her pace, heading over to Morris Avenue in a blur, weaving through the crowds of Sunday shoppers and families hanging out on their stoops.

Then she saw the three-story redbrick building on the grounds of the medical college, the familiar brass plaque on the door. The riot in her blood began to slow.

PACKER LABS.

She was safe here. At least for a while.

Kate twisted the key in the outside lock and punched in the alarm code. She thrust open the door and shut it solidly behind her. She pressed her back against the wall.

She hadn’t been taking care of herself, and she could feel it. On the train she had taken her bloods: 435. Jesus, Kate, you’re off the charts. Any higher and she could go into a coma. She blinked against the daze to stay alert. Before she made any decisions, she had to stabilize herself.

And then make the biggest decision of her life.

Kate rummaged inside the medical-storage closet until she located a box of syringes. They used them now and then to inject fluid into cells.

She always kept a spare bottle of Humulin in the fridge. Just for emergencies. Kate opened the fridge, kneeling, and searched around. There were trays of solution vials and marked clear tubes on every shelf. C’mon, c’mon. She fumbled anxiously through the shelves.

Goddamn it! She sank to the floor in frustration. It wasn’t there. Maybe while she was away, someone had cleaned the thing out.

Okay, Kate, what are you going to do? Tomorrow the lab would be open. People would be here. She couldn’t exactly go on with her normal routine. Her heart felt twice its normal size. She knew it was her glucose levels. She could go to the medical center-it was only a few blocks away. But she had to call someone.

Cavetti. Aunt Abbie…There was no way she could handle this thing herself anymore. She thought of Emily and Justin.

Suddenly a spasm of dread sliced through the haze.

Does he know where they are?

Oh, God, he might. Where else would they be? A panicky thought suddenly gripped her.

If her father had done what he had to Mom, why couldn’t he hurt them?

She remembered what he said: “You’re not the only way…”

She ran over to the counter and fumbled through her bag. She found her cell phone and scrolled awkwardly through her speed-dial list. What had he told her? Anywhere, anytime. Who the hell else did she have to turn to now?

She found Cavetti’s name and anxiously pressed the button, holding it the whole time it connected. Who knew where he would be? Kate didn’t even know where he lived.

It took three rings, but he answered. “Cavetti.” Thank God!

“It’s Kate!” she shouted, exhaling in relief at the sound of his voice.

“Kate.” He heard her agitation instantly. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve seen my dad. I know what he’s done. But listen, it’s a lot deeper than that. I know about Mercado. I’ve seen him, too. And I think my father is trying to find me. He thinks I know where he is.”

“Where who is, Kate?” he asked.

“Mercado!” She was barely keeping it together now.

“Okay,” he said. He asked where she was calling from. Kate told him, and that she was safe. He said to stay where she was. Not to go out. For anything. He was in New Jersey. He was going to call Booth and Ruiz from the FBI.

“Don’t open the door for anyone until one of us gets there, you understand? Not your father. Your husband. No one. Do you understand?”

“Yes. But there’s something else.”

She told him about Justin and Emily and what her father had implied. He had other ways… “I’m afraid he’s going to go there, Cavetti. He might be on his way there now.”

“I’ll take care of it. But like I said, Kate, not for anybody, except the FBI. You understand?”

“Yes,” she shouted. “I understand!”

After Cavetti clicked off, Kate found the number for Aunt Abbie’s. She quickly dialed, and, to her dismay, the voice recording came on. “We’re not at home…”

Then she tried Em’s cell phone. No answer as well. Kate was getting scared. She left a frantic message. “Em, I need you and Justin to get somewhere safe. Not in the house. A neighbor’s, a friend’s. And quick. And whatever you do, please don’t go near Dad. Don’t even talk to him if he calls. I’ll explain when you reach me. You’ve got to trust me on this. The police are on the way.”

She sat there on the floor. She kept redialing Aunt Abbie’s number with the same result. What if he’d already gotten there? What if he had them? There was nothing she could do but wait.