In the distant vaulted entry hall, a grandfather clock chimed the quarter hour. Other than that, the silence following Nate Lambert’s declaration was so profound, Delores actually felt the pressure of it against her eardrums.
She and Richard sat side by side on the sitting room sofa. Nate was standing before them, the luckless messenger imparting the news that the castle had been breached.
Delores said, “What do you mean, it wasn’t there?”
For all Nate’s apparent uneasiness, his voice remained waspish. “I put it in words that couldn’t possibly cause confusion, Delores.” Spacing the words out, he enunciated, “The vial wasn’t there.”
“How did that happen? Did it ever leave the lab?”
“On the way over, I called the pharmacologist. He swears he did exactly as I instructed.”
“Only he, you, and Dr. O’Neal had the combination to the lock?”
“I gave it to her over the phone last night, but not within hearing of—”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Nate. We can stop dancing around it, can’t we? She fucking stole it!”
Delores stood up, went over to the bar, and splashed whiskey from a decanter into a glass. She shot it, then poured another, and carried it over to Richard.
“He probably shouldn’t be—”
“Shut up, Nate.”
With a nod of thanks, Richard took the glass from her and drank the scotch with only slightly more temperance than she had, then set the empty glass on the coffee table.
“We all know what happened,” he said. “The question is, what are we going to do about it?” He looked first to Delores and caught her lighting a cigarette. In view of the crisis, he didn’t rebuke her. “Where is Goliad?” he asked.
“Once the box was delivered, I dismissed him for the night.” She gave Nate a scathing look. “Little knowing that his services would be required again so soon.”
Nate leaped to his own defense. “You two can’t blame me for this.”
Delores arched a penciled brow. “Blame you? I want to draw and quarter you.”
“The blame lies entirely with Brynn.”
“Like hell it does. I told you not to trust her. You didn’t listen.”
“I wouldn’t have sent her up there last night, had I known then what I’ve learned since.”
She propped a hand on her hip and tilted her head. “Well?”
“Criminality runs in her family. Her father has a long record.”
Richard looked at him through narrowed eyes. “This woman worked with you, she treated your patients alongside you.”
“Yes, but—”
“She treated me!” Richard’s voice vibrated with restrained wrath. “And you allowed that, knowing nothing of her background?”
“Her credentials were impeccable. It never occurred to me to check her family tree. Clearly a mistake.”
“Clearly a catastrophe,” Delores said.
Richard stood up and rounded the sofa. He braced his hands on the back of it as he would a podium and lowered his head. Delores remained quiet, not wanting to break his concentration. When Nate seemed about to, she shot him a look that muted him.
Eventually Richard raised his head. “It’s not catastrophic until the life span of the drug expires. We’ve got a bit over twenty-four hours to find Dr. O’Neal and retrieve it.”
Delores flew into action. “I’ll call Goliad. You,” she said, pointing her cigarette at Nate, “start writing down any places Dr. O’Neal might have gone when she left you. Is she in contact with her outlaw father?”
“I wouldn’t imagine that—”
“Don’t imagine, Nate. Find out. In the meantime, call that pharmacologist and tell him to mix another dose. The weather has cleared. We’ll send our jet for it.”
“He won’t do it, Delores.”
“Offer him more money.”
“It’s not a matter of money.”
“Oh, that’s funny,” she said. “Tell me another.”
Nate gave a stubborn shake of his head. “He’s a scientist. He’s motivated by positive lab results, and actually feels corrupted for taking money to mix the one dose. What money he did accept will go toward covering the cost of the components. The only way he would agree to make more would be with the company’s authorization for an FDA compassion exemption. We would have to go through the proper channels and apply.”
“Do it.”
“I would have already, Delores, except that you were adamant about anonymity. These clinical tests are meticulously documented. There’s no way I can keep Richard’s name out of it.”
“No,” Richard said without taking even a moment to consider it. “If it gets out that I’m terminally ill, it would empower every enemy I have in Washington.”
“Perhaps enough hush money would buy confidentiality,” Nate ventured.
Richard scoffed at that. “What planet are you on? I’m in public life. Fodder for the media. Anybody along the chain would leak this tidbit in a heartbeat. You would probably sell the story to the tabloids yourself.”
Nate drew himself up to his full height and gave the hem of his European suit jacket a tug. “I’ll overlook that insult because you’re my patient, you’ve suffered a disappointment, and you’re overwrought.”
He paused as though waiting for Richard to apologize. When he didn’t, he continued. “I advise you not to dismiss the suggestion out of hand. Your name on the application would add considerable cachet.”
“No.”
Delores said, “Richard—”
“No, Del.”
She turned to Nate. “Richard has spoken. Sweeten the pot. Your laboratory friend might not be quite as high-minded as you believe. You can use the desk there.”
Nate did as told and got on his phone.
Richard retreated into the bedroom. Delores ground out her cigarette and followed him. He said, “Close the door.”
He took one of the matching overstuffed chairs in front of the window overlooking their private terrace and the landscaped grounds beyond. She took the other. Seeming to be deep in thought, he drummed his fingers on the padded armrest.
Delores was itching to spin into action, but she gave him time to contemplate. Eventually he asked if she had called Goliad.
“I was about to. I wanted to hear your thoughts first.”
Still thoughtful, he nodded. “This started out as a last-gasp effort to save my life. Nevertheless, I’ve had occasional twinges of guilt, some reservations regarding the morality of this…undertaking.”
“I’ve tried to assuage those twinges and reservations.”
“For the most part, you have, though some lingered. As recently as last night. But these complications, one piled on top of the other, have given this a different slant. It’s become a challenge. It’s taken on the properties of a campaign.”
“You’ve never backed down from a challenge or—heaven forbid—lost a campaign.”
“No, and I don’t intend to.” He reached for her hand. “You know what’s required to win?”
“A cutthroat attitude.”
He smiled. “You’ve been listening.”
“For the past sixteen years. Listening and learning. Take no prisoners. Win at all costs. To you, it’s more than a motto with a nice ring to it.”
“It’s a credo.”
“I’m the most faithful of disciples.”
“I want to win this one, Del.”
“You will. It’s a certainty.”
“But not enough. I need to win…and leave the slate wiped clean.”
They exchanged a look of mutual understanding, and she sealed it by squeezing his hand.
“I’ll recall Goliad to duty, and alert him that we will be requiring his special services.”
The senator nodded.
Delores reached across and patted his knee. “You rest, darling. Leave everything to me.” She slid off her shoes, curled her legs up under her, and relaxed into the chair as she placed the call to Goliad. He answered right away. She explained the situation.
“Dr. O’Neal has proved herself adept at disappearing. We need you to find her again.”
“Understood, ma’am.”
“You know where to start, and there’s no time to waste. Go now. Take your sidekick with you.”
“Timmy is indisposed.”