Chapter Eight

Mike

Warren Scientific

MIKE PUSHED BACK from his microscope and rubbed his eyes. How long had he been at this? Slanting on the lab stool, he peered at the clock by the door. Noon? It was only noon? He’d been sure he’d been working nonstop for at least a week. Maybe two. He pulled the slide out from under the microscope and put it away. Another inconclusive test. He knew he was close to a breakthrough, even though he didn’t have the results to support that. Every instinct told him that he was close.

Just as every instinct told him that something really weird was going on in Gabby D’Angelo’s apartment. He hadn’t wanted to tell her that some part of him believed that the baby belonged with her. And to her?

Don’t be ridiculous! You’re a doctor. A scientist. This wasn’t some fairy tale where magic babies appeared under a cabbage leaf.

“How’s it going, Mike?”

He motioned for Sam Cho to come in. Sam had been hired at Warren Scientific about the same time Mike had, but they’d known each other since high school. Sam was working down the hall on some project on chromosomes. Mike knew better than to ask him about the work which involved high powered computers and other cutting edge technology. He’d seen some poor health reporter from the local TV station kept prisoner for an hour as Sam tried to answer her simple question with an explanation that would require postdoctoral work in gene theory to understand.

“Been better.” That sure was the truth.

“The experiment gone to hell again?”

“At least that would have been something.” He gestured with a scowl at the microscope. “Nothing on this sample.”

Sam pulled up a chair. Shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he sat. “Too bad.”

“Yeah.”

“So why the long face?”

Mike chuckled. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Hey, remember who you’re talking to. I’ve seen you jumping up and down with joy because you found nothing. Nothing to disprove your work.” He squinted. “You look as if you haven’t slept in a month.”

“Just last night and the night before...” He chuckled again. “And the night before that, but the night before that I slept like a baby.”

He must have winced because Sam said, “You look as guilty as a politician with a subpoena at his door.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s the truth.” He rested his elbows on the table behind him and stretched out his legs. “So what’s bothering you? You looked away when you said slept like a baby.” His eyes grew wide. “Have you actually been having a sex life that doesn’t involve someone else’s blood samples?”

Mike stood. “Very funny.”

“You’re avoiding answering.”

“And you’re sounding like a psychologist.”

“Psychiatrist actually. Read the diplomas in my lab office one of these days.” He leaned forward, his grin gone. “Are you okay, Mike?”

“I need a favor, Sam.”

“Ask. If I can help, you know I will.”

“I need some DNA testing done. No questions asked. Okay?”

“Sure.” He hesitated, then asked, “Paternity test?”

“Yes.” Mike frowned. “I thought I said no questions.”

“C’mon, you know me better than that.” He tapped his wrinkled lab coat. “Thought you recognized my Columbo look.”

“I’m serious. No more questions.”

“Okay. No more questions.” He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“How long will it take for you to run this test?”

“Not long.” He came to his feet. “Jeez, Mike, this sounds serious. Someone you know got a custody case going?”

Mike frowned.

“Sorry. Reflex question. Look, Mike, there are lots of labs around that do DNA testing. All of them keep everything confidential.”

“A friend of mine needs answers quickly.”

“No problem. I’ll get you a sample kit. Take a saliva sample from the kid, the mother, and the suspected father.”

Mike stuck his hands in his pockets. How was he going to explain this? “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“The father’s not in the picture?”

“I’m not sure the mother is.”

Sam picked up the coffee cup by the microscope and took a sniff.

“I’m serious,” Mike said.

“I’m sure you are. I was just checking if you’re sober.”

“I am.”

“Are you telling me that you’ve got a baby—”

“Not me. A friend of mine.”

Sam laughed sharply. “It’s always a friend of mine.”

“Put the head-shrinking kit back in the closet along with your skeletons and Oedipus complexes, Sam. I’m serious. I need a test run ASAP.”

“You’re serious.” Taking a deep breath, Sam said, “You’ve got a baby that you don’t have a father for, and you’re not sure who the mother is.”

“Exactly.”

“Mike, how—”

“No questions. That was the agreement.”

Sam muttered something in Chinese under his breath. “All right. I’ll help you, but only if you promise to explain this when it’s over.”

“I’ll be glad to explain it.” As soon as I have an explanation myself.