Eternal Page 5

  “I was just … I was worried … Dr. Bertel always lets me …”

  “Save it, Miss Police Line Do Not Cross.” Austin was staring at her chest, laughing.

  She looked down. She had been standing under the police tape, and when she had stood up she’d pulled it free. It had landed across her shoulder like a beauty queen sash. She laughed. “You caught me. I was trying to steal the secret to world peace.”

  “A valuable endeavor,” he said, as he stood and placed his gun in his shoulder holster. Julia couldn’t help but notice how the holster drew attention to the muscles of his chest and upper arms. This guy obviously did time at the gym. He crossed his arms, making his biceps bulge even more. “You can’t come in here, but let’s talk in the lab.”

  He plucked the crime scene tape off her shoulder, reattached the loose end to the doorjamb, and crossed the hall with her. They sat down on a couple of lab stools.

  “How are you?” Austin asked. In the quiet of the basement, his warm voice echoed slightly, filling the empty room. The aloofness she had felt from him in the exam room had disappeared, and his presence was once again inviting.

  “I’m feeling okay,” she said quietly. “I’m just worried about Dr. Bertel.”

  “You heard then?” Austin asked. “Bertel took off early this morning.”

  Julia nodded but said nothing.

  “Do you have any idea where he went, Julia?” She knew the question was serious, yet she felt a flutter when his voice lingered on her name.

  “No. I wish I did know. That’s why I came here, actually. I was hoping I might find some clue as to why he took off … or why someone might have taken him.”

  Austin leaned forward and put his hands on his knees. “I was wondering that too. Whether someone might have taken him. No one saw anything suspicious in the ICU last night. But then, no one saw him leave, either.”

  “The ICU?” Julia said. “How could he walk out of an ICU? Without anyone noticing?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. That room is never left unattended. It’s hospital policy. But the night nurse insisted she saw nothing. She seemed pretty shaken up. That might be because she broke protocol, but …”

  “You think someone threatened her and took Bertel away?” Julia asked.

  “Possible, but unlikely. If Bertel were carried out, someone in the hospital would’ve noticed. If he were able to walk, he would have put up at least some sort of struggle. But again—”

  “—someone would have noticed.”

  “I went through his office again today, and there’s no sign that anyone else was there. So the electrocution originally looked like an accident. But when I try to think why he left the hospital so unexpectedly, I’m back to wondering if it was a suicide attempt—granted, a very convoluted suicide attempt. You know, he just happened to leave before they had time to run any tests.”

  “You think he was afraid of what the tests would show?”

  Austin frowned. “I don’t know. Remember you told me he seemed depressed, only you didn’t think anything of it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know his wife left him six months ago?”

  “No. That was before I started working for him. And we didn’t really talk about personal stuff.” Funny how strong a connection they’d shared without talking about their personal lives. Maybe he had just been lonely, eager for any company at all.

  “That explains why you didn’t notice a change in his behavior. The change would have happened before you arrived. But, Julia, did his behavior ever strike you as something more than just depression? Did he act like he wasn’t in complete command of his mental faculties?”

  “You mean like he was crazy?”

  Austin looked surprised. “No, I mean like he was drinking on the job or using drugs.”

  Julia paused. She thought about Tyler’s after-the-game keggers; the druggies at school who used to sneak out and get high during their free period and then come back spacey and laughing at random things; and the one time she had seen her father drunk, after her mom died. “No. No, I don’t think he did anything like that. Dr. Bertel was the squeaky clean type.”

  Austin nodded. “What type of research were you two doing?”

  She hesitated.

  “Julia, I know that no scientist wants to reveal her research until it’s ready. But I can’t make much sense of the notes in his office. Since you know this research better than anybody, I would really appreciate your help—anything that could point us in the right direction. If I can keep any of it from becoming public, I will.”

  “I know. I … I trust you,” Julia said, looking into Austin’s eyes and feeling the warm surge that was now becoming familiar. “We were studying some groundbreaking stuff.” She took a deep breath. “Our research involved the human brain, specifically the pineal gland. Do you know what that is?”

  He smiled. “An endocrine gland, buried deep in the brain. It secretes melatonin, which plays a role in sexual development, metabolism, and sleep. For hundreds of years people thought it was a useless organ, like the appendix.”

  “How did you know all that?”

  “I took a special interest in the pineal gland in college, because of its more mysterious side. Some shamans and other mystics believe that the pineal gland is a conduit between the earthly realm and the spirit world. Descartes called it the ‘seat of the soul.’“

  “Indeed he did.” Julia’s eyes softened with wonder, as her lips twitched into a slow smile.

  Austin smirked. “I know. What could a cop know about science and philosophy, right?”

  “No, that’s not what I was thinking. I’m just surprised. Not because you’re a cop, but because few people—even scientists, physicians, and philosophers—know much about the pineal gland.”

  “I had to take physiology for my criminology degree. But philosophy is a personal passion. In fact, I’m studying for a graduate degree, doing nights at UCI. I’d actually like to teach someday.” He grinned. “Why so shocked? Wondering how a philosopher ended up a cop?”

  She was actually thinking that the French version of Austin in her dream had been a philosophy teacher, but all she said was, “Sure, I’ll bite.”

  “My dad’s a detective, and his dad was a detective, as was his dad before him. In fact, Grandpa made chief of police before he retired, and my dad may be heading the same way. I wanted to make him and the family proud. He didn’t expect his son to have a knack for philosophy. Of course, my dad’s pretty damn smart. This job takes its own kind of expertise, and I’ve learned from the best. But my real passion is here.” He walked to a cabinet, picked up a small backpack lying next to it, and pulled out a book. Then he walked back to her and placed it in her hands.

  She ran her hands gently over the antique leather as she read the title aloud, “Metaphysical Meditations, by René Descartes. Where did you get this?”

  “At a rare book store.”

  “It’s beautiful.” She handed it back, afraid that she might ruin the delicate binding.

  He bounced it up and down, as if weighing what was within. “This is how I escape the world.” He blushed as he put it back in the pack. Then he picked up his notebook again, knit his brows, and cleared his throat. “So, you and Bertel were studying the pineal gland?”

  That studious look was familiar. Where had she seen it before? In her dream. Why did looking at Austin make her feel as if they had a history? She shook off the déjà vu. Her dream was inspired by her meeting with Austin yesterday, that’s all. So she gathered her wits, tried not to look at the outline of his abs underneath his T-shirt, and explained Bertel’s research.

  “Dr. Bertel was dedicated to finding out if science could prove the existence of the soul. He’d zeroed in on the pineal gland as one possible location. We’ve been studying the effects of different chemicals, medications really, on the brains of recently deceased cadavers to see if we could awaken the pineal gland. Theoretically, if we were to stimulate th
e pineal gland, and only the pineal gland, and if we then found evidence of activity in this one gland but absence of life in the rest of the body, it might provide initial evidence that we’re on the right track.”

  Austin leaned forward. “Go on,” he said, obviously intrigued.

  “The existence of a human soul never used to interest me, because science can’t prove the existence of something that offers no observable evidence. Then my mom died. So, I’ll admit, if Dr. Bertel could show me that the soul is observable, I’d be thrilled to believe. And now that I know about Dr. Bertel’s son, I can understand why he was so hyped up about it. One of our experiments recently produced a millisecond of pineal activity. It was one of the few times I’ve seen Bertel get animated.”

  “What chemical did you use?”

  “Phenylcyclohexylpiperidine.”

  “PCP.”

  “Exactly.” She paused. “But there’s no way Dr. Bertel ever took that drug. It … it’s … it would just be completely unlike him.”

  “A while ago you were wondering if I thought he was crazy. What made you think that?” Austin asked.

  Julia didn’t like the direction this conversation was turning. She had a feeling of foreboding, as if some terrible past and worse future were colliding. His questions reminded her of the investigation after the science fair, and this time things threatened to get more complicated. And not just because the way Austin looked at her suggested that he was attracted to her too.

  Maybe that was wishful thinking. What was her evidence, really? A few blushes, a few overlong stares, the way he kept looking at her lips when she spoke. She felt a growing urge to wrap her arms around his tanned neck and press her lips against his. But was she out of her mind? Out of her league too. And what about Tyler? Her growing desire for Austin was matched only by her guilt.

  Mainly, she didn’t want to disappoint Austin, and she had the feeling that the more this unexpected genius learned about her research with Bertel, the sillier he would think she was. But this guy was a detective, and even if she held back from revealing everything, he’d find out sooner or later.

  She swallowed. “Austin …”

  “Yes?”

  “ What if Dr. Bertel wasn’t weak when he walked out of the hospital? What if he had some sort of, I don’t know, superhuman strength?”

  “ What do you mean?”

  She took off her jacket, and started to unroll the bandages that covered the deep scratches and bruises Dr. Bertel had given her the night before, during his strange awakening.

  NINE

  As Julia pulled out of the parking lot, she glanced in the rearview mirror to see if Austin was still standing outside watching her. She waved and suppressed a giggle when he waved back. Then she rolled her eyes at herself in the rearview mirror. “Great. You make it all the way through high school without acting like a dumb high school girl, only to blow it now?” Black thunderheads had stirred the early evening sky into a threat, and it was starting to rain. When did it ever rain in Southern California this time of year? She wondered. She suddenly felt cold.

  Julia resisted looking in the mirror again until she reached the first stoplight, where she conducted a closer survey of her appearance. Jeez, no wonder he didn’t ask her out. She looked like day-old pizza: limp, yellow, and even sporting a couple of new zits to top it off. She always broke out when she didn’t get enough sleep. Still, she prided herself on having kept his attention for the last—she reached over to the passenger seat and pushed a button on her phone—two hours! The time had flown by.

  It hadn’t all been about the investigation. After Julia showed Austin the bruises Dr. Bertel had inflicted the night before, Austin tried to lighten the mood. Julia, her nerves stretched to their absolute limit, appreciated the gesture. They’d spent half the time talking about the kinds of books, music, and movies they liked. And she’d kept her Michele game face: “Remember, men like women who are interesting, but they find women even more interesting if they’re interest-ed.” So Julia had asked lots of questions, and she’d been rewarded with great answers. They both liked books by Dave Eggers and movies by Danny Boyle. They both liked music by Needtobreathe, Death Cab for Cutie, and Florence + the Machine. She was embarrassed to admit she’d never heard of Otis Redding, Nina Simone, or B. B. King, but this only seemed to excite him more. “You’re lucky I caught you in time to give you a musical education,” he grinned. “You’ll have to come by my place sometime and listen to my old records.”

  “Records? Don’t you have an iPod?”

  “Sure. But the records are collectors’ items, and there’s something richer about the sound.”

  “If you can get past the scratches.”

  “That’s why only a select few are allowed to touch my records.”

  “Oh,” she teased. “I feel so privileged to listen to your dinosaur collection! I’ll have to practice my quadrille for the occasion.”

  “And don’t forget to bring your bonnet,” he quipped. “True confession? I actually enjoy a good slow dance.”

  “Should I be impressed?”

  “Let’s just say that you’ll be entertained. Can’t keep a beat to save my life.”

  Julia considered her feelings as she drove. She was a scientist—someone logical, someone deliberate, someone in control of her feelings. Yet she had allowed herself to get lost in the easy, enjoyable conversation that came naturally, as if they had known each other for a thousand years.

  Her thoughts drifted, and she imagined herself listening to records in Austin’s apartment. Suddenly, he reaches out his hand and pulls her off the brown leather couch to a standing position. He draws her close, one hand on the small of her back, the other holding her hand in his. Eric Clapton’s Have You Ever Loved a Woman is playing softly in the background. She rests her head on his muscular chest, completely relaxed, completely safe. The music swells, and he lifts her chin slowly with his finger. Gently, almost tentatively, he leans in and brushes his lips against hers. She responds warmly and reaches up to trace her fingers along his angular jaw line. With a burst of emotion, Austin kisses her deeply, passionately, pressing his body against hers. The song ends, but the dancing continues…

  Feeling guilty over her sudden attraction to Austin, Julia stopped by the Bren Events Center to see if Tyler was still at basketball practice. He was having a late-night practice that evening, so she thought he might still be there. Being supportive of Tyler was a Catch-22. Whenever she stopped by practice, he teased her about checking up on him and not giving him space to sweat with the guys. But whenever she didn’t stop by for a couple of weeks, he talked about how much he wished she would come to watch his practices. Julia usually just went to the games, where he definitely expected her to be there to cheer the team on, along with all the other players’ girlfriends—a collection of cheerleaders and Barbie dolls that made Julia feel simultaneously jealous and superior. All that giggling, squealing, and gossiping.

  By the time she arrived at the Bren, practice was over. Julia missed him at Shakes too, though it was crawling with college kids and wannabes, as usual. She drifted in and, overwhelmed by the noise, decided to order a chocolate shake to go.

  As Julia picked up the phone to call Tyler, it burst into an abbreviated version of “Demolition Lovers” by My Chemical Romance. Tyler was such a schizo sometimes. He was an all-American jock who cried when he watched Hoosiers but also thought it the height of romance to personalize his ring tone with lyrics about a trunk full of ammunition, a liquor store robbery, and death in a hail of bullets. She figured it was just part of being a teenage guy—trying to be a man but still a boy at heart. It was pretty adorable.

  “Hey, Julia,” Tyler’s familiar voice was a welcome sound. “How are you? Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m pretty tired, though. I look like road kill, and I feel like it too.”

  “Well, you’ve been through a terrible trauma. And I actually think the stitches are pretty hot.”

&n
bsp; Julia couldn’t help but smile. “Oh good. Now I do see something good about that stupid zombie game you’ve been playing. Your standards are abysmal, you know that? Hey, I’m actually at Shakes right now. Wanna meet up?”

  “I would, but I’m at Rob’s playing Dead Space before I crash. You know, college ball is a lot more demanding than high school ball, and these practices are killer. I’m sure you really need more rest too, after all you’ve been through. Why don’t we see each other this weekend?”

  “Um, okay.” Julia said hesitantly. She could really use a dose of Tyler’s lightheartedness, and she was hoping that seeing him would put Austin out of her head. Tyler sensed her disappointment.

  “Hey babe, if you want me to come over, I can tell Rob to stick it where the sun don’t shine.” A chorus of laughter in the background told Julia that Tyler was already preoccupied.

  “No, that’s okay, Tyler. You’re right—I need to rest. Call me when you get a chance.”

  “Take care, babe.”

  “Okay, thanks,” she said and hit the end button.

  Julia started home in the glistening darkness of a rainy, cloudy, moonless night. She was glad for the sugar buzz from the shake, because she could feel the scratches, sprains, and shocks of the past day and a half catching up with her. The monotony of the windshield wipers didn’t help. A couple of times she felt her eyes trying to close.

  She shook her head, sucked down enough of her milkshake to give her brain freeze, and cranked the stereo. Someone was droning a teen rant about getting kicked out of a bar, and Julia sang along to stay awake. But she felt stupid singing about maxing out credit cards and ménage à trois and other risky, hedonistic BS she would never consider. So she pressed buttons until she landed on a station that played jazz and blues. She worried it might put her to sleep but was surprised to find the gutsy sax and bass waking her up. Her fingers tapped a beat on the steering wheel. Maybe Pierre still had something to teach her—Austin, that is. I must be delirious, she thought.