The Chemist

“He was very flexible. And he had some kind of throwing blade in the lining of his sleeve.”


“Hm, that’s rough,” he said gloomily, and she knew what he was thinking. Facial scars were bad news when you wanted to keep a low profile. They were too easy to remember and recognize. Suddenly the search changed from Have you seen a short, nondescript female, unknown hair length or color, or a man fitting that same description? to Have you seen a person with this scar?

“Well,” she concluded, “it appears the people in charge pegged you for the win. I won’t pretend I’m not insulted. We’ll have to tweak the plan. The bait has to come from you, and it needs to go to the right person. Do you have any idea who that would be yet?”

Kevin was quiet for a minute. “When word gets back to my guy about what happened tonight… well, we might not need the e-mail. He’s going to have to talk to your guy about this. I’m ready—I’ll see them do it. Then we can decide if we need more.”

“Sounds good.”

“By the way,” he said in his covert voice, “I know you sanitized the story for the kid. I want the whole thing when I see you again.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right.”

“Look, Ollie, don’t let this go to your head, but… you did good. Real good. You saved Danny’s life. Thank you.”

She was so surprised, it took her a minute to respond. “I think we’re quits. Without your dogs or your Batcave, we wouldn’t have made it out. So… thank you.”

“You could have taken off as soon as you saw that first newscast. You knew they thought you were dead, but you stayed to keep a virtual stranger safe, though I’m sure you’d love nothing better than to be rid of both of us. That’s honor, right there. I owe you.”

“Mmm,” she said noncommittally. They didn’t need to discuss everything tonight.

“Let me talk to him before you hang up,” Daniel whispered.

“Daniel wants to talk.”

“Put him on.”

She handed the phone over.

“Kev—”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Danny,” she heard Kevin tell him. She wondered if Daniel had been able to hear just as clearly.

“Yeah,” Daniel responded, morose, “I’m only responsible for getting Arnie murdered tonight, not to mention the dogs. Why should I suffer?”

“Look, what’s done is done—”

“Funny, Alex said that, too.”

“Poison girl knows the score. This is a new world, kid. It’s got a higher body count. Now, I’m not saying that things like this won’t affect you. You just can’t let them cloud your vision.”

Kevin’s voice dropped into a lower register, and Alex was glad to know that Daniel probably hadn’t been able to make out the quieter part of their conversation. But she also wanted to know what Kevin didn’t want her to hear.

“I think so,” Daniel said. A pause. “Maybe not… I will. Yes. Okay. What are you going to do about the dogs? We had to leave Khan.”

“Yeah.” Kevin’s voice was back to normal volume. “I love that monster, but he’s not exactly travel-size, is he? There’s a breeder not too far away that Arnie’s worked with in the past. He’s more a competitor than a friend, but he knows the value of my dogs. Arnie made a deal with him that if we ever wanted out, we’d sell him our stock. Arnie also sort of implied that we might decide to do that suddenly, without any warning and in the middle of the night. I’ll call him and he’ll meet up with Animal Control before they do anything stupid.”

“Won’t the cops wonder—”

“I’ll coach him. He’ll say Arnie called when he heard shots or something. Don’t worry, the dogs will be okay.”

Daniel sighed, relieved.

“It does piss me off that he’s getting his hands on Khan, free of charge. He’s been trying to buy him for years.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Seriously, kid, don’t sweat it. You don’t last in this life by getting attached. I know how to start over. Now, be good and do whatever the Oleander says, okay?”

“Wait, Kev, I had an idea. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

“You’ve got an idea?”

Alex could hear the skepticism from three feet away.

“Yes, actually. I was thinking about the McKinleys’ cabin by the lake.”

Kevin was silent for a second. “Um, now’s not really the time for a trip down memory lane, kid.”

“I’m actually two minutes older than you, kid, which I’m sure you haven’t forgotten. And I don’t want to reminisce. I was thinking that the McKinleys only ever used the cabin in the winter. And that your CIA people probably wouldn’t know that much detail about our childhood. And that I know where Mr. McKinley always kept the key.”

“Hey, that’s not bad, Danny.”

“Thanks.”

“That would be about, what? Eighteen hours from the ranch? Just two nights’ driving. And that’ll bring you closer to my position. Didn’t the McKinleys used to keep a Suburban out there?”