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“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?”
His dad was waiting for him as soon as he came through the front door. He wanted to go to his room, get online and talk to Emma. He still couldn’t believe it. It was too incredible. He had a sister. A twin sister.
He hung his coat in the closet and continued toward the stairs. His dad remained in the hallway watching. He wasn’t angry. He was worried.
“Aunt Marion sent an apple pie home for you. She said she couldn’t possibly eat all the stuff people brought. Are you all right, son?”
Zander paused, his hand on the banister. “Actually, I’m pretty good under the circumstances. My friend was killed suspiciously, Uncle Frank dropped dead, and I just found out I have a twin sister.”
His dad’s expression quickly changed from concern to shock and guilt.
“You knew,” Zander said simply, disappointment washing over him. He wanted his dad to be innocent, a pawn in Frank’s games, but he was involved enough to know about Emma. “You knew, and you never told me.”
His dad had the sense to feel shame, but he tried to justify his actions anyway. “There was nothing to tell. She didn’t make it. It wasn’t prudent to share the fact that you were born a twin. It would only upset you, and for nothing. We can’t go back. We can’t change history.”
“Some people allow the waves to wash over them, Dad, and some people fight against the current. I guess I know what type you are.” He took the stairs two at a time.
“Zander!” his father called after him.
He went in his room and slammed the door. His mom called out from across the hall, but he ignored her. The computer was on. He sat down and opened his email. He was excited to see a message from Emma.
Sorry I cut you off earlier. There was something I should have told you a long time ago. I didn’t know how to explain it. Could we chat later tonight - about ten? Talk to you then.
p.s. Thanks for being tested. It means a lot to me. You’re my best friend.
Zander stared at the screen for a long moment wondering what she hadn’t told him. Did she know he was her brother? He didn’t think so. Dr. Brock would have said something. Then what?
There was a knock on the door. He closed down his email and turned in his chair. “Yeah?”
“Can I come in?”
“I guess.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
His dad stepped in and shut the door. He went directly to the window and lifted a slat of the wood blinds to peer out. “Where did you get your information?” he asked calmly.
“I don’t think it’s prudent to tell you at this point. You’d probably just be upset, and for nothing.” The glib remark only masked what he felt. He felt betrayed and sad for lost time, but he wasn’t ready to share that with anyone except Emma.
His dad turned from the window, a frown pulling down his brows. “That’s not funny, Zander. I know you’re angry but look at it from my point of view. I’m your father. My job is to protect you.”
“Funny way you have of doing that. My entire life I’ve been used by the company for purposes I know nothing about and told lies since I was born. Can you look me in the eye and say it was all about protecting me?”
“No. Sometimes it was about protecting your mother. Sometimes it was about keeping our family together. I’m not proud of everything I’ve done, but there’s no going back, is there? We have to worry about right now, and right now someone is following you. So, I’ll ask you again. Where did you get your information?”
Zander jumped up and looked out the window. The street was empty except for a neighbor’s pickup truck two doors down and a kid on a bicycle heading toward the park. “I don’t see anyone.”
“That’s because he already left. He knows where you are. He also knows where you’ve been.” He placed his hands on Zander’s shoulders, and looked him squarely in the eye. “Who did you talk to?”
Fear built in his father’s chest and shifted to him, bearing down like a physical weight. He felt anxious and helpless for a situation out of control. “Dr. Brock.”
“Then she’s in danger. We need to tell her.”
“But Uncle Frank’s dead,” he said.
“Frank wasn’t having you followed. Devlin was. Someone is pulling the strings behind the scenes, manipulating everyone. I need to find out who that person is. How did you learn about Dr. Brock? Did she contact you?”
“No.”
“Then how?”
He slumped on the edge of the bed and dropped his head in his hands.
“Zander, this isn’t a game.”
He looked up. “I didn’t think it was. I’m not oblivious. I know what’s in your mind. You suspect Grandpa Marcus.”
“You can do that?”
“Sometimes. Not always.”
“That’s amazing,” he murmured.
“Why? I thought that’s what this whole Sensiline project was about–to make me into some kind of mind-reading freak.”
His dad threw back his head and laughed.
Zander couldn’t help but laugh along, but he had no idea what they were laughing at.
Finally, his dad sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders, clunking their heads together. “Can you read my mind now?” he asked, with a grin.
“Afraid not. Have you recently been close to a strong magnet?”
“Are you saying my hard drive’s been erased?”
Zander shrugged. He didn’t know where this was going, but he felt almost euphoric.
His dad spoke quietly in his ear, “Dr. Kapoor told me he quit giving you Sensiline the day you turned two. Devlin doesn’t even know.”
He pulled back, eyes wide. “But I had injections every time I went to the lab.”
“Nothing but saline.”
“Then what I do really is a gift,” he said slowly in amazement.
His dad stood up and pulled him up as well. “Do you have a number for the doctor? We’ve wasted enough time.”
“I have the number of the clinic where she works, but she probably left by now.”
“Call it and see if someone is still there.”
Zander dialed the number on his cell phone. It rang three times before the answering machine clicked on. The recorded message said to call 911 for an emergency and the offices would be open again at eight a.m. for appointments with Dr. Brock or Dr. Hankerson.
He tried information next, but the operator informed him that the number he requested was unlisted.
“We’re back to square one,” his dad said, rubbing his beard. “Who told you about Dr. Brock? Maybe they have a personal number for her.”
Zander hesitated, unsure if now was a good time to divulge that his sister was alive. He wanted to have the chance to speak with her privately first, to break it to her gently that she wasn’t actually a Tatum. The shock could be excruciating, especially since she had no clue and her parents were in the dark as well. It seemed unfair that she be the last to know.
He glanced at the clock. Two more hours until Emma would open up the chat line. They couldn’t wait that long. He knew she lived in Hanover. He doubted there were more than one or two Tatums in that little town. He dialed information again.
“What city and state please?”
“Hanover, Minnesota.”
“Name?”
“Tatum. I’m not sure of the first name.”
“Hold the line and you’ll be connected momentarily.”
Seconds passed so slowly before it rang. A man picked up after the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hi. Could I speak with Emma please?”
“Hold on.” He muffled the receiver and yelled, “Emma! Phone!”
His dad stood there, hands in his pockets, waiting, mild irritation showing in his eyes.
“Hello?” came a girl’s voice over the line.
He couldn’t speak at first. His throat closed up and he tried to swallow but the knot just grew. His breath came out raspy and short. She probably thought he was one of those creepy heavy-breather types.
“Who is this?” she asked.
“It’s Zander,” he finally managed to croak out and turned away from his dad to wipe at his eyes.
“Zander? It’s really you?”
“Yeah. I want to talk to you, but right now I need Dr. Brock’s private number. I know that sounds odd, but if you have it, it’s very important.”
“I have her cell number. She gave it to me in case I needed to talk to someone. Just a minute.” She set the phone down on something.
“Who is Emma?” his dad asked in the intervening silence.
Zander cleared his throat. “She’s my sister.”
Emma came back on the line. “Here it is. Do you have a pen?” She rattled off the number and then asked, “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be on chat later, okay? I wish we could talk longer, but I have to go. My dad’s here.”
“I didn’t get you in trouble with your dad, did I?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll tell you later.
“Okay.”
“Bye, Emma.”
He flipped his cell phone closed and met the shocked eyes of his father. “I’ll explain everything,” he promised. He dialed Dr. Brock’s cell. It rang and rang and rang. A recorded message came on.
“This is Dr. Alicia Brock’s phone. Leave your name and number and I’ll try to get back to you.”
Zander left a quick message, ending with “be careful.” He didn’t want to say she was in danger. They didn’t know that for sure and there was no use scaring her to death. But his last words, though slightly cryptic, would probably still set off alarms in her head. At least, it might make her more vigilant.
*****
ALICIA WENT INSIDE the convenience store to pay for her gas and pick up a few things. The man at the register didn’t make eye contact. He handed back her credit card, his gaze never straying far from the magazine he was trying to read behind the counter. She stepped outside, juggling a case of soda, a bag of fruit, and a tub of ice cream. Apparently, paper sacks had become obsolete, a thing of the past. He hadn’t even asked if she wanted one. She set the case of soda on the ground beside her car and fished in her coat pocket for her car keys. She could see her phone on the dash where she’d left it. The face was lit up. She’d missed a call. Well, it was probably Betty. Now that Betty’s kids were grown, and she no longer required free medical advice, she called to set Alicia up with blind dates. Mostly colleagues from her husband’s company, men so boring they could put insomniacs to sleep or so egotistical it was no surprise they were still single or divorced.
Being single was her choice. She had decided long ago that she didn’t have enough space for a man. And she didn’t mean in her wardrobe closet. She was content living alone. Once in a while she enjoyed the company of male companionship but had no yearnings for ties that bind. She was very busy practicing medicine and didn’t think it would be fair to bring someone into the mix and only give them the scraps of time she had left after a twelve to fourteen-hour day.
She managed to extract her keys from her pocket and drop them on the ground.
“Can I help you with that?”
She turned, wearing an embarrassed smile. The man didn’t return her smile but stooped and picked up her keys. He must have pulled up in the black Lincoln Navigator parked behind her car. His head and face were clean-shaven, his eyes oblique in a pale complexion. He nodded toward the door.
“Please,” she said, grateful for the extra hands. She noticed her fruit bag had a tear in it and tried to keep the apples from falling on the ground as well.
The man opened the door and waited for her to get in before lifting the soda and handing it in after her. She set the box on the floor of the car, adjusted her groceries on the seat beside her, and turned back to thank him. He was gone. She glanced around by the pumps and back at the Lincoln. He was nowhere in sight. Disappeared like a ninja, she thought drolly.
She managed to hit reds at every traffic light on the way home and finally pulled into the underground parking garage at 8:25. The security guard waved from his booth and she waved back. Her condominium dues were high, but knowing she was safe from intruders or Jehovah Witnesses gave her a confident, happy feeling.
All the way up in the elevator she hummed. She felt good about telling Zander the truth. Now that Frank Howard was out of the picture, she wasn’t afraid anymore. Maybe Lionel Richard’s accident was truly–an accident. At the time, it seemed part of an insidious plan by Howard Pharmaceuticals, and she feared for her own life as well, but sixteen years after the fact she wondered if imagination hadn’t conjured up most of her suspicions. Howard was a blackmailer, a nefarious individual who would use the worst moments in a person’s life against them. But he was just a man, and now he was dealing with a lot bigger issues in eternity. Grandma Bea said if your debt wasn’t paid now, you’d sure pay later. Frank Howard had a lot of paying to do.
She put the ice cream in the freezer, slid a few cans of cola in the fridge to cool, and sliced herself an apple before clicking on the Flat screen. There wasn’t anything on that she really wanted to see, but she enjoyed the sound for company on a night like tonight. At times like this she truly missed her grandmother. She had so much to share and no one to tell.
Her cell phone rang again. She flipped it open. “Hello.”
“Dr. Brock?”
“Zander?” She recognized the boy’s voice immediately. “How wonderful. I didn’t know if I’d speak with you again. How did you get my number?” She uncorked a bottle of wine while she talked and poured half a glass.
“Listen. My dad thinks you might be in danger. Someone was following me today. That means they know I came to see you.”
She went still, familiar feelings of trepidation coursing through her like the Rhino Virus on a rampage. “What are you saying?”
“Be careful. Don’t trust anyone. Do you have a good security system?”
She nodded and then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes, I live in a secure building. But why would anyone other than Frank want to harm me?”
There was a pause. “Because Frank wasn’t the only one involved in this. I can’t tell you anymore than that.”
She took a fortifying gulp of chardonnay. “I already know your mother was given some kind of drug during pregnancy. I found it in Emma’s bloodstream before the Tatums took her home. I couldn’t classify it, so I assumed it was not yet approved for public use. Howard Pharmaceuticals was testing it illegally, weren’t they? Why else would Frank bother to blackmail me into doing his bidding?”
There was a knock on the door. “Hold on a minute.”
She looked out the peephole. The guy who helped her at the gas station stood outside the door. He held up a key fob and jiggled it back and forth. She glanced over at the catchall table where she usually dropped her keys when she came in at night. The fob was missing. That was strange. She hadn’t even noticed.
She released the chain, turned the deadbolt, and pulled open the door.
“I can’t believe this,” she said, with a smile. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without it.”
Too late, it occurred to her that a strange man stood inside the door of her apartment and she had willingly let him in. The smile froze on her face. She didn’t even have time to scream.
*****
ZANDER SHOOK HIS HEAD and clicked the cell shut. “She told me to hold on a minute and then the phone went dead. It sounded like she was talking to someone.”
“Someone came to the door?” his father asked, stroking his chin.
“I think so. I couldn’t really hear what she said.”
“Try to call again.”
He redialed. This time it went straight to voice mail after the first ring. That meant her phone had been shut off or she was talking to someone else. He shrugged. “Maybe she got a call from the hospital or something.”
“Maybe,” his dad said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
*****
EMMA ALREADY HAD THE chat line open ten minutes early, waiting for Zander to come online. Finally, his little character picture popped up on the screen. She couldn’t believe they’d spoken on the phone earlier. It was strangely surreal, and yet his voice seemed familiar as though she’d heard it on another level through his written words.
Hi, Emma
Hi
Sorry about the phone call. I know we talked about keeping our friendship online and semi-anonymous, but it was an emergency.
That’s all right. I wish we could have talked longer.
What did you want to tell me?
How do you tell someone, I heal people, without them laughing at you? She drew a deep breath and typed.
Remember how you were telling me about the girl here in Hanover that can heal with music?
Yeah
I’m that girl.
She closed her eyes and waited what seemed an eternity. No answer. Did he go offline? No–his icon was still lit up. Maybe he was distracted by something and didn’t realize she’d written. But he never did that. He was always quick to respond, a lightening fast typist.
I’m sorry.
What for?
For what you’re going through. You have a special gift and when you need it most, it doesn’t work. It isn’t fair. I understand why you didn’t tell me, but don’t ever be afraid to tell me anything. I’ll always be there for you. No matter what.
She smiled despite tears filling her eyes. He understood like no one else. How was that possible? She’d never even met him in person. Maybe it was time. She poised her fingers to type, but he was quicker.
We should meet. I need to talk to you in person.
I’ll be at Lake Central Hospital on Monday with my family. Kylie goes in for her first round of radiation. Can you come sometime in the afternoon, maybe after school?
I’ll be there.
Should I send you a picture, so you recognize me when we meet?
She waited for a response again. Was he afraid she was ugly, and he’d be disappointed? Maybe he hadn’t thought about it until now. She’d always imagined him looking a lot like Orlando Bloom, only younger and not so scrawny.
That’s not necessary. I’d know you anywhere.
A strange answer, but she felt much the same way. She was sure she’d recognize him immediately.
They made their plans and Emma shut down her computer for the night.
Tomorrow Pastor Mackey planned a special prayer meeting for Kylie in the morning service. Everyone would have a chance to wish her well and pray for her quick recovery. Although, the pastor said, God didn’t always work things out the way we think best, but the way he knew to be best.
Emma knew God worked in mysterious ways. She’d heard it her whole life, but never fully understood. She looked up the word, mystery, in the dictionary.
It said: an unexplained secret that causes curiosity.
God’s ways sure made her curious. With all that was going on, she was beginning to wonder if perhaps Kylie remained sick to ensure that she and Zander meet. The thought was far-fetched, but she fell asleep clinging to the hope that all things would work out for good.