“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.”

Delores’s voice turned as brittle as an icicle. “Indisposed?”

Richard was instantly alert to the change in her tone. He gave her an inquiring look, but she raised her index finger, indicating that she would fill him in after the call.

Goliad said, “Timmy provoked Mallett. Mallett didn’t take it lying down.”

The details were sketchy, but he went on to describe a fight in a parking garage.

“Timmy cut the guy. His hand was bleeding. But in the end, he was upright and okay enough to leave in a run.”

“And you let him?”

“Yes, ma’am. There were security cameras everywhere.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, Timmy’s peeing blood.”

“I don’t care if it’s gushing from every orifice. Get him up and out, and find that doctor. Get the vial, then deal with her. I could do without any more bother from the pilot, too. Do you understand what I’m saying, Goliad?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of it. Of both.”

“See to it immediately. And don’t keep us in suspense, either.”

“No, ma’am. I’ll let you know.”

Delores clicked off and recounted the conversation for Richard. “I fear you were right about this Timmy,” she said. “If he’s going to be violent, he should at least be effective. Mallett should be dead.”

Richard laughed softly. “Goliad will take care of it.”

“Of course he will.”

He would. Goliad would do whatever she asked of him. He was madly in love with her.

Chapter 20

7:38 p.m.

In order to avoid the bedlam in the hotel lobby, Brynn and Rye had used a side exit. They’d had to wait only a few minutes until the car he’d called for arrived, but they were prevented from moving as fast as they wished because of heavy traffic on the freeway. At times their speed was reduced to a crawl.

Rye had been right: It was mandatory that Brynn get to Violet before either Nate or the Hunts stopped her. The snail’s pace contributed to her stress.

After a lengthy silence, Rye startled her by asking, “What about nurses? Staff? You show up on Thanksgiving night, won’t that arouse suspicion?” Apparently, he’d been thinking about possible obstacles she might face.

“This facility is like a hotel. There’s an attendant on each floor with basic nursing training. They can replace IV bags, take and record vitals, but they’re there largely to notify the patient’s doctor or emergency staff of any drastic change in a patient’s condition.”

“You have her parents’ permission to use the drug on her, even though she’ll be the first patient it’s been tried on? You’ve discussed it with them?”

“You ask that now?”

“Well?”

“Of course I’ve discussed it with them. None of the stem cell donor registries have found a suitable match for her. Not even her family members came close enough. Her parents see this drug as a lifesaver. They were involved in the application process for the exemption.”

“So they’ll be open to you giving it to her tonight?”

“Without hesitation. This last round of radiation was meant to prolong Violet’s life, not save it. It’s been grueling. It’s weakened her. Her mother and father wouldn’t have subjected her to it, except for the hope of her living long enough for the exemption to be approved. Believe me, Rye, this is the answer to their prayers.”

He said, “What about Lambert? You said he sees Violet routinely. Won’t her mother wonder why he’s not in on it?”

“She’ll probably ask. I’ll tell her that he’s seeing another patient. Which I’m sure is the case. As precarious as my situation is, I wouldn’t want to be in Nate’s shoes right now.”

“Lambert,” he said with scorn. “Between the senator and the girl, there was never a question of who he would give the drug to, was there?”

Rye’s question may have been asked rhetorically, but it caused Brynn to think back on her frequent debates with Nate. From the outset, he had argued in favor of Richard Hunt, citing the contributions an influential congressman could make to society and the nation, whereas Violet had a long way to go simply to catch up to her grade level in school.

He also padded his arguments by comparing their physical preparedness to get the drug. Senator Hunt’s illness had only recently been diagnosed and was in the primary stages. Since his system hadn’t yet been weakened by other treatments, he had more stamina. He suffered no other health issues. Overall, the drug had a far better chance of succeeding with him than with Violet, whose system had been ravaged.

Brynn had argued that because of Hunt’s superior condition, he had more time to wait out the FDA’s approval. Violet didn’t.

“It’s an unwritten law not to criticize a colleague,” she said. “And, regardless of Nate’s abrasive and unlikable personality, he is brilliant. But, yes, I believe his decision was influenced by Richard Hunt’s status. And money.”

“He used a sick little girl as his bargaining chip to drive up the price.” Rye mumbled a foul deprecation. “Do the girl’s parents know about the competition?”

“No. They don’t even know there is another patient similarly afflicted, or about this smuggled dose. I didn’t want their hopes raised in case I failed to intercept it.”

“They may have qualms about it being ill-gotten.”

“They won’t.”

“You’re sure?”

Softly she asked, “What if it were your child?”

“I’d have busted down the door of the lab and stolen it myself.”

She smiled at his vehemence.

“You think I’m kidding.”

“Not at all. I know you’re deadly serious.”