Page 83 of Love Under the Microscope
Jack
I need to do something to help Zelda.
Standing in Nigel’s room, wringing her hands together with tears in her eyes, Zelda looks like she’s about to lose it.
“Hey.” I place my hands on her shoulders. “We still have time. The formula isn’t here, but it has to be somewhere. We’ll get into his apartment and search there.”
Zelda takes a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry for being so emotional. He can’t get away with this, Jack. It affects so many people, not only me and Nate.”
“Which is why we’ll make sure what he wrote on this note turns out to be a pile of crap.” I hand it back to her. “Now, put everything back exactly how you found it so we can get out of here. I’m worried. Those voices I heard have gone quiet.”
Zelda’s eyes go wide. “Shit, I forgot about them.” She places the note back inside, closes the door on the safe, and turns the knob a few times to lock it. “I was sure the pages would be in here.”
I survey the room, wondering whether we can look anywhere else quickly, but it’s a boring, nondescript room with a king-sized bed, two nightstands, each with a lamp, and nothing else. The walls are white, the bedding gray, and the furniture a dark mahogany.
“Did you say this is Nigel’s old room?” I ask.
“Yes, he stays here when he visits his parents. I stayed here once.” Zelda glances around the room. “Boring, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.” I take her hand in mine. “Let’s go and hope we can get out without showing that guy our plans for the new pool. Who is he anyway?”
Zelda walks in front of me. “His name is Frank, and he’s Nigel’s dad’s business manager. He lives here too. It’s funny. His mom and dad are such nice people. Not at all egotistical and cocky like Nigel.”
Barely finishing the sentence, Zelda pulls up short, so I almost run into the back of her.
“What’s wrong?”
Her bright eyes are accompanied with a huge smile. “That’s it. He’s so damn cocky.”
“We’ve established that, but I don’t understand why that excites you.”
“Because he knew we’d come here and find the safe.” She does a full three-sixty around the room. “Which means he’s cocky enough to hide what we want to find in plain sight to mock us.”
“You think the pages are in here somewhere?” I scan the room again but can’t see where he could hide anything, except… “Help me lift the mattress.”
“No.” Zelda pulls on my coveralls. “They are in plainer sight than that. They have to be, as he’d love the idea of taunting me.”
“There’s nothing in here, Zelda. He seems minimalistic.”
“I’m sure of it.” She gasps. “That picture wasn’t here last time I stayed.”
I look at the framed photograph of a woman on a nightstand. “Who is that?”
“His mom.” Zelda stalks over to the picture, and I follow closely. She picks up the picture, turns it over, and examines the back. She pulls at the frame, and the back comes off. She squeals and pulls out pieces of paper. “God, I’m good.”
“It’s there,” I say in disbelief.
“I’m betting he’s got a copy of them on a memory stick somewhere, but at least I have the originals.”
“Is it dated?” I ask, moving in front of her. “So yours can be validated as the original?”
“No.” She reads the formula. “Wait. Parts are missing. Of course!”
“Of course, what? That you had a feeling some creep might try to steal it from you someday like what happened in grad school?” I’m kidding, of course, but knowing Zelda, it’s possible.
“Something like that.” She reads through the pages. “It wouldn’t take a good biochemist long to figure things out.”
“They’d have to try to create this first to know something was missing, right?”
