The Chemist

“Well… yes.”


“Because it’s impossible that we could really be compatible, given the genesis of our relationship. I’ll concede it wasn’t exactly a Hollywood meet-cute.”

“It’s not that.” She looked down at his hand. It entirely engulfed hers.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this whole retribution scheme was poorly thought out. There was nothing to stop her from running again. She could make back the money she’d lost. She could go to Chicago, work things out with Joey Giancardi, be a Mob doctor again. Maybe, given what she now knew about the plan to eliminate her, the Family could actually offer her some protection.

Or she could just work a counter at a backwoods diner and live without the extras—like tryptamines and opioids and booby traps. Who knew how long the IDs she already had might last if she kept her head down?

“Alex?” he asked.

“I’m just thinking about the future.”

“Our long-term compatibility?” he guessed.

“No, not long term. I was thinking about what happens tonight. Or tomorrow.” She finally looked up at him. His soft gray-green eyes were just a little confused, not troubled. Yet.

“Your brother will call soon.”

He made a face. “Wow. I hadn’t thought about that.” He shuddered. “I guess it’s better to mention this casually over the phone—by the way, Kev, I’ve fallen in love with Alex—than in person, right?”

She disapproved entirely of the tingles that snapped through her nervous system when he made his facetious practice announcement. That wasn’t a word to bandy around casually. He shouldn’t have used it. But still, the tingles.

“That’s not the part I was worrying about. You remember the plan.”

“Once he’s in position, we send the e-mail. He watches who reacts. Then we meet up with him and…” He trailed off, his brow suddenly furrowing. “Then you both are going to—what’s the phrase?—take them out, right? That’s going to be very dangerous, isn’t it? Couldn’t we just let Kevin handle things alone? It seems like he probably wouldn’t mind. I get the sense he liked his job.”

“That wasn’t our deal. And, Daniel…”

“What?” His voice was harder now, with an edge. He was beginning to understand.

“Neither Kevin nor I will be able to… well, perform at our best if the leverage they have against us is in the same place the bad guys are.”

There was almost a physical weight to the meaning of her words as they dropped, an aftershock in the silence that followed.

He stared at her, unblinking, for a long moment. She waited.

“Are you joking?” he finally asked. His voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. “Do you think I’m really going to let you leave me here to twiddle my thumbs while you risk your life?”

“No. And yes, you are.”

“Alex…”

“I know how to take care of myself.”

“I know that, but… I just can’t wrap my mind around it. How will I stand it? Waiting here, not knowing? Alex, I’m serious!”

His voice turned impatient at the end. She wasn’t looking at him; she was staring straight ahead at the television.

“Alex?”

“Turn up the volume. Now.”

He glanced at the TV, froze for one brief second, then jumped up and fumbled on the floor for the remote. He jammed a few wrong keys before the newscaster’s voice thundered through the surround-sound speakers.

“—missing since last Thursday, when police believe he was abducted from the high school where he teaches. A substantial reward is being offered for information leading to his recovery. If you’ve seen this man, please call the number below.”

On the large screen, Daniel’s face was blown up to four times its actual size. It was a snapshot rather than an official portrait from the yearbook. He was outside somewhere sunny, smiling widely, his hair tousled and damp from sweat. His arms were stretched over the shoulders of two shorter people whose faces were cropped out of the image. It was a very good picture of him, both attractive and engaging; he looked like the kind of person you would want to help. An 800 number was printed in bright red across the bottom of the screen.

The picture disappeared, replaced by a handsomely aging anchorman and a much younger, perky blond anchorwoman.

“That’s a shame, Bryan. Let’s hope they get him back home to his family soon. Now we’ll take a look at the weather with Marceline. How are things looking for the rest of the week, Marcie?”

The picture moved to a sultry brunette standing in front of a digital map of the entire country.

“This is national news,” Alex whispered. Her mind started working through the scenarios.

Daniel muted the sound.

“The school must have called the police,” Daniel said.

She just looked at him.

“What?”

“Daniel, do you know how many people go missing every day?”