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  Sonya offered, “You could sleep upstairs in Adrian’s office. I’ll even bring your meal up on a tray.”

  Truth be told, Ethan would much rather have stayed. All the reasons he once had for maintaining his distance were fading. The surge of events was pressing down, revealing one vulnerability after another. The love he saw in their faces, the concern, drew him ever more tightly into the fold.

  Even so, he said, “Gina left the hotel to put distance between herself and me. I need to respect that until she says otherwise.”

  Sonya pursed her lips and breathed out. A long release of all the arguments she would not use. She set down her cooking spoon and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. She walked around the central counter, opened her arms, and embraced Ethan tightly. Then husband and wife walked him out into the night.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-NINE

  Monday morning, Ethan was awoken around five by great claps of thunder. The lightning flashed so close it illuminated the boundaries of his curtains like they were on fire. He lay and listened to the lashing rain. A bigger storm was out there, just beyond the horizon. He could feel it.

  He dozed on and off for another hour, then rose and slipped into swim shorts and walked down to the ocean. The passing storm had not eased the heat or humidity, which were already intense at daybreak.

  Ethan had come to love this season as a child. Mid-September to mid-October was the height of Florida’s hurricane season. His father used to say it was the tropics’ way of arguing with the changing weather tides. That was how he put it—tides in the atmosphere, just as they were in the sea. His father used to make up stories for his younger son, where the summer tide fought a long battle with the autumn tide. The summer tide always thought he was strong enough to keep the autumn tide from taking his place. But the autumn tide was wise in the way of an experienced woman, his father said. She let the summer rage and struggle and vent his fury. And in the end, she won. She always won.

  Adrian phoned just as Ethan emerged from the shower. “You hear from Gary?”

  “Not a word. You?”

  “He phoned the house yesterday, said he was onto something solid. Couldn’t or wouldn’t discuss it on the phone. The line was awful. I’m thinking he might have been down in the islands.”

  Ethan pondered that for a moment. “What does that mean?”

  “Hard to say. I’m hoping he might have a lead on the missing Defense lady.” Adrian’s voice was courtroom tight. The words carried a clipped quality, like each was carefully measured before being allowed to emerge. “You coming to court?”

  “Leaving in ten minutes.” Ethan hesitated, then asked, “How is Gina?”

  “She’s good. No, better than that. I have to tell you, bro. Having her around here has been a really good thing. Sonya’s been on a tear ever since I asked her to take the stand. I don’t know what I would’ve done if Gina hadn’t been here. Taken a room in your hotel, most likely.”

  “Sonya is going to testify?”

  “It came to me on the drive back. All the fragments are beginning to knit together, thanks to you.”

  “I thought you were going to grill Beryl Aldain.”

  “Not a chance. I’d give you hundred-to-one odds that lady never shows.”

  “But why—”

  “Pressure, kid. It’s all about screwing the lid down tight, then bringing Jimmy Carstairs to a boil. I’m still banking on the fact that Judge Durnin is on our side and as curious as I am over what the Cemitrex folks are up to.”

  “So asking about the DARPA lady . . .”

  “It’s a means to force Cemitrex to tell us what’s going on. My guess is, Cemitrex is serving as a front for the Defense research group. But that still doesn’t explain why they’re so hot to take over Sonya’s company.” Sonya’s voice called from somewhere distant. “We’re leaving now. See you in court.”

  The three opposing counsel were already clustered behind the left-hand table when Ethan walked in. Adrian was seated across from them, making furious notes as Gary leaned over the wooden barrier and spoke softly.

  Gina and Sonya were in the right-hand pew, one row up from the entrance. Sonya watched Adrian and Gary with a gaze that reminded Ethan of a frightened deer. Eyes wide, skin taut, motionless. Gina held one of Sonya’s hands with both of hers.

  Ethan remained standing in the aisle, watching the two women. Finally Gina glanced over. She gave him a long look with those amazing eyes of hers, all the fire and passion on dark display. Finally she mouthed, Join us.

  He breathed a silent sigh of relief and seated himself. “What’s going on?”

  “Gary just showed up. That’s all I know.”

  He kept his voice in the faintest of whispers, just breathing the words, “Sonya, you okay?”

  “I hate speaking in public.” Sonya turned his way, showing him a near-panic expression. “No. Hate isn’t strong enough. What’s a more powerful term?”

  “You’ll do fine,” Gina said.

  “There should be another word with an exponential force, hate multiplied by a factor of millions.” Sonya glared at her husband’s back. “I can’t believe I let him talk me into this.”

  The grip Sonya had on Gina’s fingers turned them bloodless. If she minded, Gina gave no sign. “You heard what Adrian said. All you need to do is focus on him and talk about your research. It’ll be over before you know it.”

  Sonya rocked back and forth, tight little motions.

  “You’re doing this for him,” Gina said. “And for your company’s future. And for your years of research. Focus on that.”

  Sonya gave no sign she even heard, but gradually she stilled. It seemed to Ethan that she might have breathed a little easier.

  Then the front door opened, the judge walked in, and the uniformed officer said, “All rise.”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY

  Once the judge was seated, Jimmy Carstairs remained on his feet behind the table. To his left, the two minions sat up straight, on full alert. Ethan had yet to hear either one speak a single word. Carstairs stood around six foot five, his barrel gut wrapped in a finely tailored pin-striped suit. But the arrogant demeanor was gone today, or so it seemed to Ethan. Prick the guy with a needle and he’d flutter around the ceiling until all his hot air escaped.

  The judge was apparently in no hurry to begin. He ruffled the pages of his diary, searched his desk for something, then motioned for the court reporter to come over. They had a quick discussion, the reporter resumed her seat, and finally Judge Durnin looked up. “Nice to see you managed to join us, Mr. Carstairs.”

  “This case is of paramount importance, Your Honor. I had no choice in the matter, even though it inconvenienced my firm quite considerably.”

  “Did it. How tragic.” Judge Durnin searched the room. “And yet I fail to see the witness the court instructed you to produce. What was her name again?”

  Adrian spoke for the first time. “Beryl Aldain, Your Honor.”

  Only then did Ethan realize that Carstairs had been continually clearing his throat. It was a small sound, a single cough, easy to overlook. He did it again. “Your Honor, I regret to inform the court that this particular employee has resigned from her position.”

  Judge Durnin folded his hands on his desk. “Has she now.”

  “Indeed so, Your Honor.” Another cough, so quick it seemed to Ethan that it happened against the lawyer’s will. “Ms. Aldain has a contractual right to terminate her employment at any time. I know because I personally reviewed the relevant documents.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you have.” The judge turned to Adrian. “Mr. Barrett, do you have any response to this news?”

  “Two points, if it pleases the court. First, I formally request that Cemitrex identify a different executive, and that you require this individual to appear before the court so that he or she might be deposed.”

  Carstairs began, “Your Honor, that is utterly without precedent—”

  “Hold that th
ought, Mr. Carstairs. Go on, Mr. Barrett. Your second point?”

  “I ask that Dr. Sonya Barrett be permitted to testify.”

  “Is that her I see at the back of the courthouse?”

  “Indeed so, Your Honor. Although her research has reached a crucial stage, she has joined us today so as to shed light on what we now think might actually be behind this attempted acquisition.”

  “There is no attempt,” Carstairs sputtered. “My client has every right—”

  “Mr. Carstairs, interrupt these proceedings one more time and I will hold you in contempt.” Durnin gestured with the hand not holding the gavel. “Mr. Barrett, I will withhold decision on your first request until after your witness has testified. You may proceed.”

  Ethan rose from the pew and stepped into the aisle. Sonya released Gina’s hands and rose to her feet. She walked forward, then froze where Adrian stood holding the wooden gate open for her. For an instant, Ethan feared she had locked in panic. Then he realized she was staring at the opposing lawyers. He settled into the seat next to Gina and watched Sonya’s features tighten with rage and loathing until her face went as bloodless as Gina’s fingers.

  Adrian touched her elbow and eased her forward. Sonya allowed herself to be guided into the witness stand. All the while, though, she continued to visually blast Carstairs and his minions.

  As she was sworn in, Adrian moved back behind his table. He asked her to state her name for the record. He then led her through a brief summary of her professional background. Gradually she released her molten grip on the lawyers and focused on her husband.

  Adrian held to a quiet, conversational tone as he asked, “What are you and your company currently working on?”

  “The same premise I’ve been involved in since graduate school. Defining and mapping electromagnetic elements of human mental activities.”

  Adrian widened his eyes in mock surprise. “But the attorneys representing Cemitrex accuse you of moving away from your contracted direction.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “They receive regular status updates. We have monthly conference calls. They have also hired an outside microbiologist who spends a week with us twice each year. Their scientist is granted full access to all our records. They know perfectly well my research hasn’t varied one iota.”

  “What precisely did Cemitrex ask you to produce?”

  “Study and hopefully produce,” Sonya corrected. “My early research pinpointed three regions of the brain associated with chronic pain.”

  “And these are?”

  “We’ve known for some time that the spinal cord carries pain messages from the body’s receptors to the thalamus and the cerebral cortex, where the message is processed. My team and I have discovered that there is a gradual reorganization of the brain’s circuitry, specifically within the dorsal root ganglia, caused by long-term pain.”

  Adrian leaned over his desk and wrote something on his legal pad. “And the aim of your research is . . .”

  “We have determined that repetitive signals, which we have now mapped, can alter the brain’s function. We seek to influence these same regions in a positive manner through the noninvasive application of various electrical and magnetic impulses, and in time, bring the chronic pain under control.”

  Adrian made another note. “That is the vital term in regard to your research, is it not? Control.”

  “Correct.” Sonya was gradually shifting away from the courtroom and the opposing counsel and everything that was staked on her testimony. It was just her and Adrian now, focusing on her life’s work. The two of them in tune. “Pharmaceutical products seek the eradication of pain. But regular intake of these medications results in severe side effects. Lethargy, mental fatigue, liver and heart failure, addiction.”

  “And with your product?”

  “There is no product. We are years from bringing a product online.”

  He nodded slowly. “With your concept, then.”

  “There are no side effects.”

  “None?”

  “Zero.” She gripped the front barrier and leaned forward. “Our studies reveal that chronic pain carries three distinct elements for the sufferer. One is obviously the pain itself. Equally important are two other factors that are often overlooked.”

  “And they are?”

  “Fear of the pain’s return and loss of control over so much of the patient’s life.”

  Adrian shifted his pad from his table to the podium stationed next to it, placing more distance between himself and Carstairs’s team. “Control.”

  “It all comes down to this: granting the patient a risk-free means of bringing their pain under control.”

  “How exactly does this happen?”

  “First we map the patient’s brain-wave patterns. This is where our research veers away from all others in the field. We see each patient as possessing a unique pattern. Two patterns, actually. One when they are free of pain, the other when they suffer an attack. We then design an electromagnetic frequency that stimulates the brain’s return to pre-attack status.”

  “You zap the brain.”

  Sonya did not smile, but she did rearrange her features for just an instant. “Correct. Using a combination of MRI and electronic impulses, we zap the brain. When we do this enough, the patient’s brain reverts to its pre-pain structure. This happens at precisely the same moment their fear dissolves. We are certain the two issues are connected. How, we have not yet determined. But we will.”

  Adrian studied his notes, his face creased in supposed confusion. “I don’t understand, Dr. Barrett. It sounds to me like your product is close to being ready.”

  “It’s not.”

  “And Cemitrex could be excused for thinking that you are overplaying the research scientist role, holding back on giving them what they contracted—”

  “That is ridiculous. It shows how little attention they’ve given to everything we’ve been doing.” Sonya’s entire stance underwent a drastic shift. Adrian’s words drew her attention back to the trio seated at the other table. Her voice took on the tight edge of barely controlled fury. Or terror. Or both. “It takes us between four and seven months to map the individual sufferer’s wave patterns and determine the required frequency response. We recently calculated that it is costing us three hundred thousand dollars per patient to prepare their treatment.”

  Adrian followed her unblinking glare to Carstairs. A quick glance, as if wanting to reveal a trace of his own rage. “Three hundred thousand dollars.”

  “And that’s not all. Currently the only way we can apply the required frequencies is to have the patient return to our lab during each attack. The necessary equipment is twice the size of this courtroom.”

  “So in order to bring your product to market . . .”

  “We must resolve two problems. No, three. First, we have to design an automated method of mapping the individual patient’s brain and calculating the necessary electromagnetic response. Second, we must shrink the required machinery down to something that could fit inside a doctor’s office. Or even better, be available directly to the patient. I would love to see this become something a sufferer might wear on their belt or carry in their purse. And third, we have to raise our success rate. Right now we are only able to help about half our patients.”

  “What is the success rate of pain medications?”

  “Better than that, but not by much. Six in ten. Seventy percent with the new migraine-specific medications. But again, with huge potential risks to some patients.”

  Adrian’s pen scratched loudly in the otherwise silent courtroom. Judge Durnin had planted an elbow on his desk and held his face in his hand. His gaze swiveled back and forth between Adrian and Sonya, and he appeared utterly captivated. Jimmy Carstairs was so still he might as well have stopped breathing.

  Adrian let the silence drag out a bit longer, then said, “Has your research turned up anything unexpected, Dr. B
arrett? Some angle or new direction that has caught you by—”

  Carstairs sprang to his feet, a jack-in-the-box wearing a three-piece suit. “Your Honor, we request an immediate recess!”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-ONE

  It appeared to Ethan that the judge was reluctant to focus on anyone else. He came around very slowly, blinked, and said, “Denied.”

  As he turned back, Carstairs said, “Your Honor, I am faced with a matter of the utmost urgency!”

  Durnin leaned back in his seat. “Remind me whose courtroom this is, Mr. Carstairs.”

  “Yours, sir. But—”

  “Oh, good. I was concerned you might have forgotten.”

  Carstairs waved his phone. “Your Honor, I must respond to this entreaty. It has to do with the matter in Atlanta.”

  The judge asked Adrian, “How much longer do you require to complete this witness’s testimony, Mr. Barrett?”

  “Some time, Your Honor. I believe Dr. Barrett will provide us with evidence that her company was duped.” Adrian pointed at the empty bench behind Carstairs. “The woman who would rather quit than testify under oath constitutes an illegal omission of facts pursuant to who my client was—”

  “Your Honor, please.”

  Durnin did not even glance over. “You were saying, Mr. Barrett?”

  “I suggest we are looking at a serious case of fraud, Your Honor. I will seek the court’s approval to rescind the original deal.”

  “In other words, we may be here for some time.” He glanced at his watch. “Very well. Court is adjourned for an early lunch. We will resume Dr. Barrett’s testimony in one hour. And, Mr. Carstairs?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Be on time.”

  Ethan watched as Sonya rose from the witness stand. When Adrian stepped over to help her, she said, “I’m okay now.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. Thank you, Adrian.”

  “I’m the one who is grateful. You were excellent up there.”

  “Thank you.” Sonya offered a weak smile as she passed Gina and Ethan. “Thank you all.”