Micro

“I’m going to have this lab cleaned tomorrow. The animals put to death, the whole room sterilized with gas, then washed with bleach.”

“That’s…that’s good, Vin.”

“We don’t have any choice.” He touched her arm. “Go home and get some rest. I’m going to stay here for a while.”

She gave him a grateful look. Then she hurried into her office, picked up her purse, and headed outdoors. Mirasol had gone home; the reception area was empty. A fat moon drifted in stars dusting the sky, a beautiful night if only her mind hadn’t been in turmoil. She got into the BMW-it was a corporate car for her use. She put the purse on the seat next to her and sped off.

Vin Drake went into the deserted lobby, keeping himself in the shadows. When he heard Alyson’s car start and go down the street, he ran outdoors to the Bentley and started it. Where were her taillights? He got to the Farrington Highway. Left or right? He swung left: the way to Honolulu, the most likely way she’d go. He pulled out into traffic and accelerated, feeling his body pressed into the seat with a surge of power.

There it was, the red BMW, traveling fast. He dropped back, watching her taillights. Her car turned onto the entry ramp to the H-1 Freeway. The midnight-blue Bentley faded into the night: he was just another set of headlights behind her in the flow of traffic.

He had not been able to find the students. There was only one possibility: Alyson had taken them with her in her car. He couldn’t be completely sure of it, but his instincts told him so.

She might have to go. He certainly couldn’t trust her. That was obvious. The woman had lost her nerve. But it was getting complicated, all these people disappearing. Alyson Bender was Nanigen’s chief financial officer, and if she disappeared now, it would provoke a very thorough investigation.

He didn’t want that. An investigation of Nanigen would, sooner or later, turn up something he had done. It was inevitable. Enough time, enough checking…they would find out.

No, no, he didn’t want an investigation.

He began to realize he had made a terrible mistake. He couldn’t kill her. He couldn’t afford to kill her-at least not right now. He needed her on his side for a little while.

How could he get her on his side?

Alyson followed the freeway around Pearl Harbor, trying not to look at her purse on the seat. Maybe Vin was right. Maybe there was no choice. She exited into downtown Honolulu, not certain where to go. She drove to Waikiki. There, she went slowly along Kalakaua Avenue, caught in traffic. The crowds of tourists were thick, people out for the evening. Then she turned onto Diamond Head Road and circled past the Diamond Head Lighthouse. She would take the paper bag to a beach somewhere on the windward side of Oahu or maybe to the North Shore. She would drop the bag in the surf somewhere…no evidence…no survivors…

Drake stayed back, watching her car. She went past Makapu‘u Point and through Waimanalo, and Kailua. But then she turned and picked up the freeway and headed back toward Honolulu. Where in hell was his CFO going, he wondered.

Having driven around the eastern edge of Oahu and doubled back into Honolulu, Alyson finally found herself following the Manoa Valley Road, winding up into the rain-forested valley among the mountains.

She arrived at the steel gates and the tunnel. The gates were locked. She punched the security code and went through. The tunnel emerged into a velvet dark valley.

The place was deserted, the greenhouses glinting faintly in the moonlight. She opened her purse and took the bag out of it, and got out of the car. She didn’t dare open the bag. They were probably dead by now, crushed or suffocated. But what if they weren’t, what if they started pleading with her? That would be worse than if they were dead. She stood in the parking lot.

Headlights. Coming out of the tunnel.

Somebody had followed her.

She stood there, holding the bag, frozen in terror, caught in the headlights of the corporate Bentley.

Chapter 11

Waipaka Arboretum 28 October, 10:45 p.m.

W hat are you doing here, Alyson?” Drake said, getting out of the Bentley. He kept the headlights burning on her.

She blinked in the glare. “Why did you follow me?”

“I’m worried about you, Alyson. Very worried.”

“I’m fine.”

“We have a lot to do.” Approaching her.

“What?” She shrank back.

“We have to protect ourselves.”

Sharp intake of breath. “What are you planning?”

He couldn’t allow the blame to fall on himself. On her, but not on himself. He had begun to form an idea. There was a way to get this done. “There is a reason for their disappearance, you know,” he said to her.

“What are you talking about, Vin?”

“A plausible reason why they vanish. A reason other than you and me.”

“What’s the reason?”

“Alcohol.”

“What?”