She frowned. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Luke.”
“I find him interesting. He’s on the verge of being something very exceptional.”
“And he believes you’re some kind of superhero.” She had a sudden alarming thought. “You’re not fooling with his mind?”
He shook his head. “I took one quick look when I first met him. That’s all I needed. And I know he’s off-limits as far as you’re concerned.”
“You’re damn right he is.”
“Besides, I can wait for him to get a little older before I make a decision about him.”
“Decision? You will not try to recruit him.”
He smiled. “No?” He turned away and started up the stairs. “We’ll see. Go try to persuade Montez. If you get us on the road again, I won’t have an opportunity to influence your son.”
Which might be a very good thing, she thought grimly. Cameron exerted a tremendous charisma even when he wasn’t using that psychic mojo. Well, he could just stay away from Luke.
But he was right, if he was kept busy at the violent tasks at which he excelled, he wouldn’t have time to draw Luke into his web.
She pulled out Montez’s number and quickly dialed.
Would he look at the ID and not answer?
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Come on, Montez, pick up.
Four times.
Montez answered the phone. “I don’t want to talk to you, Catherine Ling.”
“Yes, you do. Or you wouldn’t have picked up. You’re still on the run from Dorgal and his men, and you must be tired and a little scared. It’s going to keep on. They won’t stop. They’ll never stop until I take Santos out.” Her voice lowered with urgency. “Help me take him out. Then the running can stop.”
“I told you that I’m opting out. I’ve caused too many deaths already. Go get him yourself.”
“I will.” She paused. “But unless I have an edge, I may not be able to stop him before he kills someone I love. He’s been very quiet for the past couple days, and I think it’s because he’s concentrating on hunting you down. You’re very important to him. Why does he need you? Surely, you’ve completed your work on Delores.”
Silence. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Maggi.”
He inhaled sharply. “You’re guessing.”
“It started as guessing, but as my friend, Hu Chang, made his way through those equations, the guessing became a certainty. He’s a brilliant man, and he said that you were also exceptional. That your cryogenic formulas might well do what you intended if the container or coffin in which Delores is held is as mechanically sophisticated as he thought it might be.”
“How condescending,” he said sharply. “My formula does exactly what I meant it to do.”
She had stung him. Evidently, he was very defensive about his work. “I’m sure it does. And Hu Chang didn’t mean to be condescending. I told you, he thought your work was exceptional. He appreciated the fact that you went a step beyond cosmetic preservation to actually preserve life itself.”
Another silence. “You did work out what I was doing. I was hoping it would be too complex for you.”
“It was too complex for me, not for Hu Chang. I was only able to contribute the research about Maggi and Eva Peron’s gravesite. You couldn’t resist calling the project after her?”
“I’d heard about her all my life. My kinsman, Pedro Ara, was famous for his work on her. The entire world was in awe of his embalming technique after the two million people who passed by her casket in Buenos Aires saw how alive and beautiful she still appeared. Even after over twenty years of constant moving and poor treatment of her body, Domingo Tellechea, who was chosen by Juan Peron to prepare her for public display again, was amazed at how wonderfully Ara’s initial embalming had held up. But Tellechea suffered the same persecution as our family after he repaired the damage. Yet Ara was still an inspiration to everyone in the family. Me, too. I worked hard from the time I was a boy. I wanted to be better, smarter than he was.”
“And you were.”
“Yes.” His voice was bitter. “And you see where it got me. I should have left it alone. Not taken that extra step. They would never have heard of me.”
“I know Delores and Santos came to see you in Argentina. They’d heard about your work?”
“I’d thought I’d kept it secret, but they knew. They visited me in my uncle’s lab in the hills. They told me that I was the man they’d been looking for and started asking me questions. No, she asked me questions. Santos sat back and smiled and acted as if he’d bought her a present by bringing her to me.”
“She was the one who was the most interested?”
“She acted … hungry. Beautiful, so beautiful, but she was excited and flushed and was drinking in everything I said. I admit I was flattered, but then I became uneasy. She made me tell her everything, then she turned to Santos, and said, ‘He’s the one. Get him for me.’”
“Threats or money?”
“Principally money. He offered me more money than I could make in twenty years. But the threat was there, too. He was going to give his Delores what she wanted no matter what it took.”
“And exactly what did she want?”
“Forever.”
“Eternal life? She couldn’t have expected that.”
“Why not?” he said scornfully. “She thought everything belonged to her, that she could reach out and take. Being frozen would only have been a stopgap. If they were eventually able to heal and bring her back to life, then she’d go for the next step, then the next. She was fascinated by Eva Peron. Every child in South America had heard tales about Eva. Eva is a folk heroine even after all these decades. Delores had read every biography, even devoured that Madonna movie they made about her life. She told me she could have handled Eva’s career with Juan Peron better than Eva had done, but she admired her boldness. Eva’s power over everyone around her was what led Delores to study her complete life … and death. She even tried to visit Eva’s final resting place in Buenos Aires but couldn’t get permission. Eva lies five meters underground in a crypt built like a nuclear bunker. The government wanted to be sure that no one would ever disturb her remains again. But that didn’t stop Delores. It only led her to Pedro Ara, then to every distant branch of his family, and, eventually, to me.” His voice was bitter. “I was to be her Dr. Frankenstein, but I mustn’t make her look like the monster she was. She had to remain beautiful.”
“Why was she so obsessed with it? She was still in the prime of life and supposedly in good health. She couldn’t have known that I’d kill her a short time later.”
“I asked her the same question. She said only fools didn’t prepare for the worst-case scenarios and she wouldn’t be defeated if a ten-ton truck happened to careen around the corner and hit her. She laughed and reached over and touched Santos’s hand and said that whatever preparations she made for herself must also be done for him. They had to go on together.”
Catherine felt a chill. Delores meant they had to go on together forever. What evil would they be able to spawn if their time was extended indefinitely? “How kind of her to include him.” She moistened her lips. “So you took the deal.”
“I took it. She was young. I thought she’d live for years and years. By that time, anything could happen that might change my obligation to him. He was a criminal. So was Delores. They might both end up dead or in prison.”
“And then you’d be rich and free. What did you have to do for his money?”
“I gave them several vials of serum to be injected within four hours of death. I sold them the prototype of the cryogenic container that I’d built in my lab and instructions what to do with it.”
“But that wasn’t all.”
“No, they made me promise to do the final preparations and come immediately when needed.”
“And Dorgal called you when Delores was killed, and you kept your word.”
“Of course I did. There wasn’t anything else I could do. Santos would have ordered me butchered.”