Chapter Eleven

Jenna picked up the fragment of bone and lowered it gently into place. The skeleton was nearly complete and one of the finest she’d reconstructed. The sounds of the museum faded into the background as she worked methodically.

Her lab smelled of dust and ancient decay. She loved this place. It filled her with a sense of peace and continuity.

She’d always presumed the lack of knowledge of her own past had resulted in her passion for discovering the history of the human race. This particular skeleton dated back to the beginning of the Neolithic period, probably around 9500 BC.

She stroked a finger over the smooth curve of the yellowed skull. So much history.

Losing herself in piecing together the puzzle of her skeleton, she looked up only when one of the assistants entered the lab.

“Jenna, there’s someone to see you.”

Her first thought was the police, and the memory of David flooded over her again, followed swiftly by a dull ache in her chest.

But for some reason, the stranger who stood in the doorway didn’t make her think “police.” He was tall, at least six three, with a lean body beneath black pants and a black shirt open at the throat. His face was pale, his hair short and black.

When he saw she’d noticed him, he stepped into the room and came toward her, each step controlled, giving the impression of leashed power.

Halting in front of her, he held out his hand. His eyes were a hazel, green-brown flecked with gold, and he had a scar down the right side of his face. His smile was polite, and she shook his hand briefly then pulled free and edged back.

“How can I help you?” she asked.

He studied her, head tilted to one side. “My name is Luke Grafton. I’m David’s cousin.”

Shock locked her muscles. “I don’t understand. Have you heard—” She broke off as he nodded, his expression somber. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even know David had a cousin.”

“We were close when we were younger, but we’d lost touch over the last few years.” He glanced around the lab, his eyebrows rising as he took in the half-formed skeleton on the table beside her. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“Of course.” Visitors were often uncomfortable around her work, though she had the impression very little would bother this man. “We can go to my office.”

She led him out of the lab and along the corridor to her tiny cubicle, leaving the door open behind them. With this man beside her, she realized how minute the space really was. He was big, not only tall, but also broad at the shoulders, and she couldn’t help but be conscious of his closeness.

She shook off the feeling as she cleared a box of bones from one of the two chairs. Skirting the desk, she sank into her own seat and indicated the one she had cleared. He sat on the too-small chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, arms folded across his chest, studying her intently, as though he could pierce her mind. Find her secrets.

Almost squirming under the concentrated stare, she picked up a pencil from the desk, twiddled it between her finger and thumb, then put it down again and focused somewhere over his left shoulder. “I’m sorry about David. He was a good friend, but I’m not sure how I can help you.”

“David called me last night.”

Her gaze flashed to his face. “He did?”

“I hadn’t heard from him in a while—I was surprised. He told me he thought he was being followed. He was frightened.”

“Oh.” A tremor of unease skittered down her spine. She frowned as she thought about his words. “Why did he go to you and not the police?”

“I run a security firm, and he asked me to investigate something for him. I also provide protection for prominent people.”

“You mean like bodyguards?”

He nodded.

“David wanted you to provide him with a bodyguard?”

“Not exactly. He wanted me to provide you with a bodyguard.”

“I don’t understand.” Nor did she want to. She didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“I don’t want to alarm you, Ms. Young, but David believed whoever was following him was a result of something he was looking into for you.”

Jenna rubbed a finger over the spot between her brows. Her headache had returned with a vengeance along with her—supposedly paranoid—fears of the night before. “I don’t understand. Why would he think that?”

“He told me he’d received a phone call asking him about something related to you.”

“Asking what?”

“Does the word ‘Descartes’ mean anything to you?”

He was still watching her intently, as though searching for some sort of reaction.

She stood up and smoothed her skirt down over her thighs. “Are you telling me David was killed because of me? That’s crazy.”

“Descartes?” he persisted.

Her fists clenched at her side. “It’s a place on the moon, or so David told me.”

“Why were you discussing it?”

It occurred to her that she had absolutely no proof this man was who he said he was. An image of David’s tortured body flashed before her, and she edged sideways so that she was between him and the door, every muscle ready to run.

His lips quirked, but the smile vanished quickly. As though he knew what she was thinking, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a wallet, and handed her a business card.

Luke Grafton, Security Services.

He also handed her his driving license and finally, a photograph of a much younger David with his arms around the shoulders of Luke Grafton. The knot in her stomach eased slightly, and she handed back the photo and license.

“I want to find out who killed David,” he said, putting the wallet in his pocket.

“Can’t you leave it to the police?”

“No.” His answer was vehement. “David came to me.” He shrugged and some emotion—guilt, maybe—flickered across his face. “He was worried, but I thought there was no urgency. I told him to stay calm, and I’d be with him today. If I’d listened to him, he’d still be alive.”

That was understandable; she would do anything to find David’s killers. But until she had looked into this man’s background, she wasn’t telling him anything more. Jenna glanced down at the card in her hand. Once he’d left, she would do a search on him and decide how much she could safely tell him. Besides, she didn’t believe there could be a connection to David’s research for her and his death. It was a coincidence.

“I’m also here because David thought you might be in some sort of trouble,” he said gently. “He would have wanted me to protect you.”

“I’m in no trouble, and I can protect myself.”

A resigned expression crossed his face. “You found the body, didn’t you? Can you at least tell me what you were doing there last night?”

“Have you spoken with the police?”

“Briefly, but I wanted to speak with you first.”

She shrugged. “We’d arranged to meet after his evening surgery. David had been looking into some medication—”

“Medication?” He jumped on the word. “He wasn’t your doctor, was he? I got the impression you were a couple.”

“No, we were just friends.”

“But David would have liked you to be more?”

“Maybe. It doesn’t matter now. I have a medical condition. Up until recently, my father was treating me, but he died suddenly, and I had to sort something else out. David was arranging for me to see a specialist, a friend of his.”

“How did he die?”

“My father?” Her gaze flashed to his face. “Well, I assure you he wasn’t murdered, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She didn’t try to keep the irritation from her voice. “He was in a car accident, but there was absolutely nothing suspicious.”

“And your illness?”

“Is none of your business.”

His eyes widened slightly at her angry tone, and another brief smile flashed across his face. He held up his hands. “Okay. So David was setting you up with a specialist. Anything else?”

She had no reason to lie, but something cautioned her to be circumspect with what she revealed. Maybe she was her father’s daughter after all, and secrecy was ingrained in her personality.

“David had sent my medicine off to the lab for analysis, and he was expecting the results yesterday. He wanted to discuss them.”

“And Descartes? Why were you talking about it?”

Jenna decided it was the time to take the offensive. This man was interrogating her. What did he really want? Revenge for his cousin’s death? Or something else?

“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Grafton—”

“Please, call me Luke.”

“But while I appreciate your concern, Luke, I don’t see how David’s death could be connected to me. I don’t know anything about this Descartes, but if I think of anything, I’ll let you know. Now I have work to do, so…”

She glanced meaningfully at the door. For a moment, she thought he was going to ignore her unsubtle hint. The silence stretched out but finally, he shrugged and rose to his feet.

Jenna almost took an instinctive step back but forced herself to hold her ground.

“My cell number is on the card,” he said. “If you think of anything, call me.”

He reached out his hand, and Jenna clasped it reluctantly.

“Jenna.” He used her name for the first time, and it sounded odd coming from a stranger. “Whoever killed David is still out there. The police told me he’d been tortured. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

Swallowing the lump that rose in her throat, she tugged her hand free. “It won’t.”

A small smile flashed across his face. “Call me.”

He turned and walked from the room, and Jenna stumbled around her desk and sank into the chair, clutching the card.

Her fingers twitched as she recalled David’s poor hand from the night before, and it occurred to her that Luke Grafton’s words had sounded strangely like a threat.

…

Well, that had gone well.

Luke had learned little from the meeting, but strangely, he didn’t feel bad about the situation. He and Jenna Young were far from finished. She might not know it, but she was somehow involved in this. He just had to find out how.

On his way out, he glanced through the open doorway to the lab where she’d been working earlier, his gaze flicking to the half-completed skeleton on the table.

What had drawn her to work with a load of old bones?

The interview had awoken a sense of anticipation he hadn’t experienced in years. She was hiding something from him, but that was unsurprising—she was bright and obviously didn’t trust him.

By the way she’d clutched his business card, she was probably on the internet now, finding out what she could about him. The cover would hold, but he wasn’t convinced she would call him. Her face had been pale, her eyes red from lack of sleep and no doubt crying. Though she’d denied any connection to the GP’s death, she was scared.

She didn’t want to believe she was involved.

Luke needed to find some way to convince her she was.

…

Lauren was seated at her desk, going over the latest projections when a tap sounded on the door. She checked the monitor and swiped her hand over the lock control. The door opened and Mark entered. “What is it?” she asked.

“Lee Carson is dead.”

Lauren’s jaw tightened as she glanced up to where he loitered in the doorway. “What the hell happened?” She got up and paced the room.

“We’re not sure. But he turned up in the morgue. A hit-and-run. Last night.”

“When did you last hear from him?”

“He called after he’d…finished with the doctor.”

“Finished? I take it the man’s dead. What happened there?”

“Carson reckoned he knew nothing of interest. He was going after a lead the doctor had mentioned, but he was pretty sure it would turn out to be nothing, as well.”

“Do we know who the lead was?”

“A woman—a patient.”

Lauren took a deep breath and forced down the anger threatening to overwhelm her. She was surrounded by incompetents. Taking a seat at her desk, she tapped her fingers on the wood as she considered possible complications. Everything was in place. If they postponed now… She didn’t want to contemplate the repercussions. The financial implications were the least of her worries. This had been her baby. And the blame would land squarely on her.

However hard she thought about it, she could not see how Merrick could be a threat. At the same time she also couldn’t see any reason for a general practitioner to consult with Merrick on a patient. He’d never dealt with patients; he was a biochemist. Likely it was a coincidence. Except she didn’t believe in coincidences. Even so, should they remove him now or leave him in place? For now, the latter.

“Have we heard back from the tail on Merrick?” she asked.

“Nothing out of the ordinary so far. He’s been at a conference in Berlin, but it was scheduled six months ago, so unlikely to be anything we need to concern ourselves about. And according to the tail, he had no unscheduled meetings. He’s due back today.”

“I don’t want anyone going near him that I don’t know about. And send someone to find out about this patient. And for God’s sake, send them with backup this time.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Just a few more days and it would be done.

And the world would be changed forever.