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“I’M SORRY, AUNT MARION.” Steven shook his head, still in shock. “Frank was so–larger than life. I didn’t think...” he trailed off.
“I know.” She patted his hand as though he were the one that needed comfort. “Everyone thought he was too cranky to die. But God takes us all sooner or later. Whether we’re ready or not. You should think about that.”
He looked down at his shiny black dress shoes and nodded, like a little boy being reprimanded. “I will,” he promised.
He had already in fact. Earlier during the funeral service Marion’s pastor had talked about life and death, saving faith and empty rhetoric. The man reminded him of his father, the passion he had for telling the world about Christ’s love and gift of salvation. Maybe he was wrong to discount his childhood beliefs. This week was certainly making him rethink his lack of faith.
First Akhilesh and now Uncle Frank.
The Living room and hallway were full of people milling about, friends of Frank and Marion, come to offer their condolences. Some were employees of Howard Pharmaceutical, but most were members of the church Marion attended. They brought food and the comfort of shared faith. She smiled and clasped hands, received hugs and soft words of sympathy, defying the painful arthritis he knew she suffered from. He wanted to tell her to go and lay down, but he knew she would refuse.
In the kitchen, he found women refilling platters of food and making coffee. He didn’t recognize them, but he was sure they were members of Marion’s church. One woman did look familiar. She had long black hair swept up loosely and held in place with an ivory comb. She was making a cup of tea at the counter. When she turned and met his gaze, her eyes were dark with sadness, moist with tears. But still she smiled.
“Mr. Howard, how are you? I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Dr. Kapoor,” he said surprised. He took her hand. “I’m sorry as well. I considered Akhilesh a true friend.”
“I assure you he felt the same of you. But please–my husband was Dr. Kapoor. Call me Anandini.”
“Then you must call me Steven.”
“I was just going to bring this to Marion,” she said indicating the cup in her hand. “Would you like a cup, Steven?” She held it toward him, her hand shaking slightly.
“Please sit down. I’m afraid you’re doing too much too soon.” He took the cup and eased her into a chair at the table. “In fact, I’m very much surprised to see you here.”
“Marion has been my friend for a dozen years. She invited me to her church when we first came to Minneapolis. I only came to sit with her. I would not think of being anywhere else.” Her lashes swept down as she looked at her hands on the table. The gold band on her ring finger was wide and engraved in an intricate design. She absently turned it around and around, lost in thought.
Steven stood awkwardly nearby, not knowing the words to say. He still couldn’t believe Akhilesh had committed suicide despite the note Devlin found. Anything connected to that man was suspect, even if it were signed by the hand of God. Well, maybe not God. He could take care of himself.
“He didn’t do it.” Zander approached the table, his face filled with grief. He’d taken off his suit coat and loosened his tie. His white dress shirt was wrinkled as though he’d slept in it.
“Alexander, my son.” Anandini greeted him with a kiss on the cheek as he bent to hug her. “I’m glad you are here. Your aunt needs you beside her today.”
He nodded, his eyes filled with tears. He locked eyes with Steven. “You know that, right Dad? Dr. Kapoor would never take his own life. Never.”
“Of course not.” He looked down at the cup in his hand.
Anandini shook her head slowly. “You say it, but you don’t believe. I know my husband. He loved God and his family. To take one’s own life is a coward’s end. Akhilesh was no coward. He was the bravest man I know. In India, he stood alone against forty angry Hindus and prayed that God would protect us. With only his arms to surround me I knew I was safe. Those men dropped the rocks and sticks they had in hand and walked away. God used my husband’s bravery to quiet a mob.”
Zander pulled out a chair and sat down. “That’s a great story, Mrs. Kapoor. The doctor never told me that one. He told me some stuff about India, but in his stories, you were always the star.” He smiled as she took his hand in hers.
“Thank you, Alexander, for sharing that. I treasure the memories I have and someday my dear husband and I will meet again.”
“How do you know that?”
She stared at him quizzically, surprised by his lack of spiritual knowledge. “Because I know whom I believe in and he promised a home in paradise for those who trust in him. Do you not share the faith of your Aunt Marion?”
Steven put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Speaking of Marion. I need to check on her and see if I can get her to sit down for a while. I’ll bring that tea to her if you’d like.”
“Thank you, Steven. I will call my daughter and have her pick me up now. Marion seems to be in good hands.” She moved toward the telephone.
You coming?” Steven asked Zander.
“Sure.”
Anandini turned and gave them a sad smile before they went out the door. “It was good to speak with you both.”
*****
MARION WAS IN THE HALLWAY seeing another group of visitors out the door, accepting hugs and patting hands as they filed past her. She brightened perceptibly at sight of Zander and Steven.
“Just the two I’ve been looking for. Where did you disappear to?”
“We were in the kitchen with Anandini,” Steven filled in. “I didn’t know you were friends.”
“Oh, yes. The Kapoors are members at Calvary. I don’t know what I would have done without her today. She is such a sweet woman, and she’s been through so much this week already. I hardly know what to say to her, and here she is comforting me.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I feel a little faint. Do you boys mind accompanying me to my room? I think I need to lie down before I fall down.”
“That’s the first sensible thing I’ve heard you say all afternoon.” Steven took her arm.
Once upstairs she slipped out of her shoes while Zander pulled the blankets down on the bed. He tucked her in like she did for him when he was a little boy and kissed her forehead. She smiled and patted his cheek.
“You want me to stay and sit with you, Aunt Marion?”
“That would be nice, Zander.” She closed her eyes and a weary sigh escaped her lips. He sat in the rocker by her bed and picked up a book from the bedside table.
Steven cleared his throat. “Well, I guess I’ll go back out there.”
“Thank you, Steven,” she said, her voice already slurred with sleep.
*****
AFTER HIS DAD PULLED the door closed the only sounds in the room were Marion’s gentle breathing and the creak of the rocker. Zander tried to turn the pages of the book as quietly as possible. He knew what a light sleeper she was. When he was small and stayed overnight, she always seemed to hear him when he woke up and cried into his pillow. Or maybe she had the gift as well. He smiled at the thought.
The hallway clock soon struck four, the chime clear and melodic.
Marion stirred, putting a hand up to her cheek. She opened her eyes and turned toward him. “You’re still here.”
He set the book down. “It’s only been half an hour. You should go back to sleep.”
She yawned and sat up, arranged the pillows behind her back and crossed her arms over the blankets. “I’ll just sit here and talk to you for a bit. I don’t know if I’m ready to go back out there right yet.”
“Uncle Frank sure had a lot of suits,” he said, not sure what topics were safe to discuss the day of a funeral. The walk-in closet door stood open, revealing a long row of men’s suits in pinstripes, browns, blacks, and navy blue.
She followed his gaze, not offended by his comment. “He did indeed. It’s a shame you aren’t the same size. He would have liked the idea of you filling his suits, so to speak. I know he didn’t show it in tangible ways, but he was very proud of you.”
He cleared his throat, wanting to ask something but afraid he’d upset her. She was calm, more at peace than he imagined a widow would be. She always said she rested in God’s hands. He supposed this is what she meant. “How did you deal with him all these years, Aunt Marion? I know you loved him, but he was a hard man to like.”
“He was,” she admitted simply. She smoothed the blanket over her lap and stared across the room at an old wedding portrait atop the walnut dresser. Her eyes glistened in the dim lamplight. “I took Frank for better or for worse. Some people think he got the better and I got the worse, but things are never that black and white in marriage. He loved me in his way. I only wish he could have known the Savior as I do.”
“Dr. Kapoor was a Christian. It didn’t save him.”
Marion pushed back the blankets and swung her feet slowly over the side of the bed. “Trusting Christ doesn’t save your earthly body, it saves your soul. This life is temporary, even for young men.” She held out a hand and he helped her to stand. “Which reminds me,” she said, her brow knit in thought, “I heard a story today and thought of you. Cynthia Brown was talking about an article she read in a rural paper. I think it was the Hanover Current. Anyway–there have been cases of miraculous healing going on in a small church there. Isn’t that interesting?”
He shrugged. “If you believe in that sort of thing.”
“Well, I’m not saying it’s true, mind you, but God does work in mysterious ways. The reporter said it started after a young girl played the piano in the service. She has a gift. I guess she’s a musical protégé or something.”
He frowned. “Why did that make you think of me? I can’t even carry a tune.”
A smile lit her eyes. “Not the musical part, silly. The gift part. The reporter asked her about it, and she said ever since she was a little girl, whenever she played the piano, she saw different colors fly from each note. Some were the colors of healing.” She placed her hands on either side of his face. “You told me once a long time ago that you had a special gift.”
“Did I?” he asked, uncomfortable with the comparison.
“You didn’t tell me what it was, but I think I know. You have a soft heart, Zander. You care about people. It’s called empathy. You feel what others feel. You rejoice when they rejoice, and cry when they cry. I think that’s a gift.”
He was surprised by how close she came to the truth. But he didn’t agree with her assessment. “It’s not a gift. More of a curse. I’d much rather be able to heal people.”
“Wouldn’t we all,” she murmured.
He bent down and pulled her shoes out from under the bed and handed them to her.
“Oh, Zander, would you get that memory card on the dresser?” she asked, slipping her feet into the low-heeled pumps. “It was in Frank’s pocket when he collapsed. I think it must have something to do with work, so your father better take a look at it.”
He picked up the tiny card and slipped it in his shirt pocket. “I’ll make sure he gets it,” he promised.
*****
MARCUS GROUND HIS TEETH, waiting outside the lab. By all rights, he should have an access card. He was an important member of the board, after all. Now that Frank was gone, he would probably be asked by the other board members to run the company.
Devlin was supposed to be here to meet him. Where was he? The man was infuriating. He thought the world revolved around him. He better start showing some respect. In all reality, Devlin worked for him. Of course, with Kapoor out of the picture Devlin had become even more indispensable. He was the only one who could control the twins.
“Marcus.” Carl Devlin strode down the hall, still wearing his white lab coat, a cup of coffee in each hand. He held the cups out. “You mind?”
Marcus took the coffee with an exasperated huff. “Well, if someone would get me an access card, I could have held the door open for you when you finally deigned to appear. I haven’t got all day, you know. I have an important meeting at the capitol in an hour.”
Devlin let the security system scan his iris and then zipped his card across the magnetic reader. The door buzzed, and he pulled it open. “I won’t keep you any longer than necessary.”
He followed Devlin to the office at the rear of the lab; past counters with jars of things in formaldehyde, desks with computer terminals, and an area that looked like it was designed by Bill Nye the Science Guy. There were security cameras positioned in the corners of the ceiling, as on all levels of the building. Whatever happened here was recorded and kept on file for at least a year. It was for the company’s protection. Frank assured him the practice was best for everyone involved.
He set the steaming cups on the desk and sat heavily in the chair across from Devlin. “So, what is so important you needed me to rush down here this morning? Lobbying is a full-time job, you know. I have a dinner date with two senators who need their palms greased. And I’m already exhausted from the funeral this morning.”
“I understand.” Devlin reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small leather-bond planner. He picked it up and held it out. “Dr. Kapoor’s.”
“A little black book? I suppose you’re going to tell me he was a polygamist and had wives stashed all over town.” He laughed at his own joke and rifled through the book. It was unreadable. Line after line of tiny, squiggly characters filled the pages. “Why are you showing me this? I can’t read gibberish.” He shoved it back across the desk and took a gulp of coffee.
“That is Hindi. Dr. Kapoor was fluent in English, Hindi, and Mandarin. I myself only speak two languages, but I found a program that converts script into spoken word. It is in fact able to convert twenty-four different languages into English. Amazing, really.” He spread his hands. “The world gets smaller every day.”
“Whatever you say. Now could you tell me why I’m here?”
“Because when I translated this script, it became very clear to me that your grandson is no longer a viable participant in our program. He needs to be dealt with.”
Marcus grimaced. His ulcer was acting up again. The coffee hit his stomach like molten lava. He set the cup back on the desk. He was slowly losing his temper. He didn’t have time for games. “What are you talking about? Zander has been documented from the day he was born. He has abilities far and beyond what we’d hoped. He graduates from High School next year and by then he should be ready for his new career in politics.”
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Marcus, but your grandson has been faking it for years. Kapoor stopped giving him the Sensiline when he turned two. He wrote everything down in this book. He believed the drug was destroying the boy’s abilities rather than enhancing them. But I say, without the drug, he didn’t have abilities. Kapoor was delusional. He was also soft, unprofessional, and unscientific. Lucky for us, he decided to take his own life.”
“Zander hasn’t been getting the Sensiline?” Marcus repeated, unsure how to process the information and not a little uneasy over Devlin’s glib remark about his ex-coworker. He ran a hand over his smooth scalp, feeling slightly queasy.
Frank had allowed his daughter to adopt that boy, to attach herself to a homeless woman’s son when she deserved so much more. He’d said it was the smart thing to do. Now everything was falling apart, and Frank was no longer here to deal with the repercussions. It was up to him. As usual. Everyone came to Marcus Dunbar when the going got tough, when they needed help getting out of a bad situation. Well, this was not his mess.
“How could you have let this happen?” he demanded, leaning forward. “I thought you monitored Kapoor and the boy during their sessions.”
“He put on a good show. He injected Zander with saline rather than Sensiline. Impossible to know by simply observing. Kapoor was more deceptive than I gave him credit for.”
He smacked a hand down on the desk. “I maneuvered you into this position, Devlin, so you could make Frank think Sensiline was his idea. Now I’m beginning to think you used me as well. You promised me a team of lobbyists and a cure for Serena in the process. Are you backing out on our deal?”
Devlin clasped his hands loosely on the desktop and sighed. “How can you ask me that? Haven’t we been friends for twenty years? I promised you lobbyists and you shall have them. But Zander will not be one of them.”
That left the twins. Those two robots were nothing like Zander. He didn’t trust them, and he was beginning to wonder if he could trust his old friend. “How do you know Zander is faking it? Maybe Kapoor was right, Zander possesses natural abilities without Sensiline.”
“That may be so, but without the drug he’s impossible to control. You might be interested to know that he has deceptions of his own. Zander has been snooping around. He’s quite interested in his origins. Maybe you could help him out in that regard,” Devlin offered a sly smile. “You, being the king of homeless shelters.”
“What are you suggesting?” Marcus asked, anxiety building. Devlin had been against Zander’s inclusion in the program from the beginning. The doctor’s plan to impregnate homeless women had gone astray when they found out too late that Darla Radcliff was already three months pregnant. At first Devlin wanted to abort but he relented after learning she was pregnant with twins. He had an obsession with twin research.
“I’m suggesting you keep a closer eye on your grandson. Something horrible could happen to the boy. After all, bad things are known to come in threes.”
“There’s no reason to hurt Zander. He doesn’t know anything. His father is the one you should be worried about.” Marcus stood up and moved to the door of the office. He was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Had he made a fatal mistake by trusting Devlin? Now that things were coming to a head, he felt as though his accomplice was pulling the rug out from under him. All he wanted was a way to stay on top, be a Washington mover and shaker without actually having to step into the limelight. These kids were supposed to be his ticket to controlling whoever sat in the White House. He wasn’t so sure that Devlin had the same agenda anymore.
“No one wants to hurt Zander. I’m simply informing you of the facts. Our project could be compromised. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“Are you taking him out of the program then?”
Devlin shook his head. “Not yet. I’ll work with him myself. See if Dr. Kapoor was correct and the boy has a natural gift. After all, his father was some sort of psychic, wasn’t he?”
Marcus shrugged. “I don’t believe in that sort of thing.”
“But you’re willing to believe your grandson has mind-reading abilities? Interesting.” Devlin sat back in his chair. “If you’re right, it’s a shame Zander’s twin died. Just think what they could have done together.”