Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
There was no way to adjust to the cold loneliness of too much air and space surrounding her after the close warm comfort of Trent’s arms. Even sitting in the driver’s seat of her car made her feel lost and adrift.
She pulled into the familiar drive of the Morneau family home, past the peeling white fence at the drive, the gate permanently rusted open.
The family crest still floated above the drive, an old-but-charming historic relic.
Her car crunched over the ever-sparsening gravel to the front carport.
She didn’t use the carriage house anymore to park the car inside because the hinges on the doors needed work.
Pulling the car to a stop, she shut off the engine and then sat, trying to feel at home, letting the years of familiarity sink in, reorienting herself against the onslaught of strangeness she’d been feeling.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” She said it aloud and when the front door opened, she started.
“What’s wrong, Charline? You okay? What are you doing sitting out here in the drive?
” Her sister’s bright smile had an instant effect.
She wondered what her sister would make of her affair and longed to tell her everything.
Every last damn thing. There was a time she would have told her mother, but no longer. Her mother was more like her child now.
“Be right in. Sorry I’m so late.”
“You mean early now, don’t you?” Her sister grinned and raised her brows. It wasn’t the first time Charline had been out late with a man, although she hadn’t been out in a long while. She knew her mother and sister worried about her frittering her life away in the lab, as they would say.
But her father would have understood. He would have known how serious the work was, how important and necessary and how secondary everything else was.
Hell, even Trent understood. And he was practically a stranger.
Or maybe not such a stranger after all.
Charline got out of the car and forced a smile at her sister, wondering what she’d gotten herself into, what state of mind this was, feeling like an alien in her own body.
“Come on in and tell me all about your night out,” Suzette said, taking her by the arm and walking her through the door, leaning on her.
Her sister’s warmth, the touch of her arm, and the act of stepping over the threshold into her home—the place she’d lived since she was born—dispelled the disoriented feelings, brought her back to ground. Thank God.
Trent Lockheed was far away. She needed to keep him far away.
It would be impossible to avoid him.
They were to attend a charity dinner the next weekend. She had to run some tests on him after his next game. And she had to go to every one of his practices, including the one starting in three hours.
Friday morning traffic was light as Charline merged onto Storrow Drive to race back to the lab after a thorough test and measurement session with Trent.
How she’d managed to get in and out of the practices without incident over the course of the week, she wasn’t sure.
The people around the stadium must be getting used to her presence.
The media furor over Trent’s engagement was finally surpassed by the team’s chances to get to the divisional championship game in the playoffs.
This was the only day of practice where she felt comfortable leaving Trent in Ralph’s care since they were only doing a walk-through.
She’d arranged to have all the appointments for her testing with the other subjects only on the days where the team either had no practice or walk-throughs.
They were fairly predictable to be the last day or two before the game.
The research staff saw to the majority of testing and she limited herself to once a week visits with the other subjects—her and Dr. Cooper.
They had split the subjects so she only had to see half of the group of sixty men and women now.
Acknowledging that it was helpful to have Lisa, she still wished it was anyone else but that woman.
Charline would never have chosen her. If Lisa hadn’t been a graduate of Cornell, Charline might have been able to complain, but the woman’s credentials were impeccable and she knew her way around a lab.
Her knowledge and technical proficiency were impressive.
As far as Charline could tell, the only thing Lisa lacked, besides more years of experience, was imagination.
She didn’t think outside the box, and she’d never be the kind of researcher who would come up with the next new revolutionary hypothesis or inventive protocol.
Charline pulled into her parking spot and turned off the engine.
Sitting for a minute, she blew a breath out.
Lisa Cooper wasn’t the kind of woman people whispered about behind her back, speculating whether she’d ever had a man, about whether she was a virgin.
Hell, Charline admitted she’d brought all the whispering on herself and had never cared before.
Why now? Because Cooper was there to obviate her shortcomings?
Hell no. She cared now because of John Doe.
Because of Hogarth’s attention to her research—his attention to her.
She cared now because Hogarth was pitting Lisa against her.
Leaning her head back on the headrest, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Who the hell are you kidding, Charlie? You care about what people say now because of Trent.
All the same, she hoped her luck in avoiding Lisa Cooper at the research center would hold out.
Dealing with Hogarth after the scene with Lisa Cooper the night of the trustees’ soiree turned out to be much easier than she’d expected.
Hogarth had gone out of town for the week to a medical summit in Budapest. Lisa Cooper apparently didn’t rate a return call—or maybe she didn’t know his number.
Either way, Charlie had a week’s reprieve and she used every second of it to shore up her security protocol.
She never put her tablet with all the records and formulas down for a second.
It was never out of her sight. She also had one of her longtime lab assistants, Wendy Yu, shadow Dr. Cooper to make sure she wasn’t sabotaging the data somehow.
Her lab assistants helped with the routine testing on all the non-John Doe subjects.
They knew that John Doe was hands off, that Charlie handled all his testing herself, and none of them questioned it.
John Doe was John Doe. It happened now and then.
After putting on her lab coat, Charline ignored the wistful tug and headed to her appointment with subject number 052, a middle-aged man who was a good approximation and representative of who their potential future patients would be for the serum once it became an approved treatment protocol.
Pushing open the door from her office to the adjoining treatment suite, she walked past the reception desk before she heard the voice of Dr. Cooper, which stopped her in her tracks.
“So there you are, Dr. Morneau. I told them you’d show up. Eventually.” Lisa waved her hand in the direction of the reception station and caught up with Charline. She walked with her, as if they were BFFs, all the way into the examining room.
Once inside Charline couldn’t very well kick her out without seeming rude. But if the woman wanted to watch her work, so be it.
“Good morning, Mr. Babcock. How are your muscles doing today?” She smiled at the man who flicked a glance at Lisa, but then gave Charline his full attention.
“Better than ever.”
Lisa cleared her throat, “Dr. Morneau is having me join her this morning. I’m Dr. Lisa Cooper. I may fill in for Charline here and there—when she can’t be in the lab.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t worry about that, Mr. Babcock. If need be, we can always reschedule your appointment.” Charline maintained her smile and her reassuring calm though she wanted to smack Lisa Cooper. Maybe she could accidentally stab her with a sedative.
That was the most unprofessional thought she’d ever had.
Or maybe second to the routinely unprofessional thoughts—not to mention actions—she had with John Doe. But then it was more than professional with him, wasn’t it? And not in a good way. They were partners in crime.
With Lisa, they were enemies in crime.
Since when had her quiet life of medical research and keeping a low profile devolve to secrets and intrigue?
Since she’d become desperate to treat her mother’s rapidly deteriorating condition.
“That’s okay Dr. Charline, I’d understand if you had to be out of town for a Boston Minuteman game.” Mr. Babcock grinned at her and then blushed when she said nothing for a beat. “I mean, I saw your picture in the news—about your engagement to Trent Lockheed. Congratulations. Quite a catch.”
“Yes, he is a catch, isn’t he?” Lisa said.
“I mean for him too—Dr. Charline is a great catch.” He blushed furiously then.
“That’s so sweet of you to say.” Charline felt a rush of warmth, knowing he’d meant it. “Let’s get on with the testing, shall we? We have the full protocol today—all the stabbing and pinching tools are coming out.”
“I don’t mind. Like I said, I’m feeling great. I don’t remember feeling like this since my college days. I owe that to you—so pinch away.”
“It looks like you don’t need me for this. I’ll send in your assistant,” Lisa said. “Nice to meet you, Mr. . . .”
“Babcock,” Charline said.
Lisa waved a hand, dismissing them and left. Charline had no idea what that was about, but she had more pressing matters to deal with right now. She got on with her testing of research subject number 052, Sweeney Babcock, a lovely, grateful, middle-aged man who deserved all her attention.
Standing at the reception desk with her assistant after she’d finished with the sweet Mr. Babcock and three additional subjects, Charline was about to check in with Trent. But when she saw Lisa Cooper barreling her way, she slipped her phone back into her pocket.