The Mirror Man, стр. 58

Brenda. A fine time for her to fetch a box of pens, he thought. His first instinct was to find a place to hide, but the only obvious place was under the table where he’d be in full view as soon as she walked in. It would have looked absurd if she’d found him there. He took a step backward and braced himself, frantically trying to come up with some reasonable explanation as to why he would have locked himself in the supply room.

She turned the knob a few more times and then he heard her footsteps retreat at a quick pace back down the hall. She’d gone to her desk for her keys, he figured, which would mean she’d likely be inside the supply room in about forty-five seconds. It wasn’t even enough time for him to slip out and hide somewhere else. He’d just have to let her come in and find him, he thought, and hope she hadn’t just walked by his clone out in the hallway. He tightened his lips and decided his best option was to simply pretend he was looking for something. The sound of her heels coming back toward the door made his heart jump. He ditched the phone he was still holding, turned his back to the door and started shifting boxes around on the shelves.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” It was Charles Scott’s voice, just on the other side of the door. “I’m looking for Jeremiah Adams. I’m Charles Scott from Engineering. I’m supposed to be involved in the broadcast tonight, but I’m afraid I’ve become quite turned around. Am I on the right floor?”

“Oh, my, we all know who you are, Dr. Scott. You want the eighth floor,” Brenda told him. “Mr. Adams left just a few minutes ago. They needed him for a sound check or something. But you’d better hurry.”

“I’m somewhat hopeless navigating this building,” Scott said. “Perhaps you could escort me?”

“Sure,” she said, and Jeremiah could almost hear the smile in her voice. No doubt she was happy to suddenly find herself playing a crucial role in the whole production. “You just follow me. I’ll get you there in a jiffy.”

Jeremiah started breathing again when he heard them leave. An instant later, Pike was at the door, knocking and calling out in a hushed but urgent tone.

“Mr. Adams, open the door. We have to hurry.”

Jeremiah opened it, and Pike nearly pounced on him in his effort to get him out of the room.

“That was a little too close for comfort,” Jeremiah told him.

“Yes, and if we don’t get you downstairs we’re going to have another close call.” Pike had him by the arm as he hurried down the hallway, back toward the freight elevator. The doctor leaned on the button. “We’ve got to get down there before they send out a search party.”

“Where’s the clone?” Jeremiah asked.

“Unconscious in a janitor’s closet where I left him,” Pike said.

“A janitor’s closet? What if someone finds him? I thought you were supposed to take him downstairs to the lab.”

“Yes, well, there was a glitch, as you know. Dr. Scott had to come and save you from being found out.”

“Don’t act like this is my fault,” Jeremiah told him testily. “None of this was my idea.”

The elevator door opened, and Pike pushed Jeremiah inside and started hitting the buttons on the panel. When it landed on the eighth floor, Charles Scott reached into the elevator and grabbed Jeremiah by the arm before the doors had even fully opened. He pulled him out into the empty back hallway. Pike stayed behind, presumably to retrieve the clone from the closet and hold up his end of the plan.

“They’ve been waiting for you, Mr. Adams,” Scott whispered as he ushered Jeremiah through a doorway and into the main corridor. “Follow my lead and there won’t be any questions.”

As soon as they walked through the door, Scott with a hand lightly on Jeremiah’s elbow, there was a rush of activity. Jeremiah thought it looked like a movie set. It was surreal to see ViMed’s hallways so chaotic. Camera and sound technicians were taping wires down along the walls, several people rushed back and forth hurrying papers and cell phones from one person to another, and a skinny blonde woman, whom Jeremiah instantly recognized as a prime-time news anchor for CNN, was noisily testing her microphone in a corner. She looked much smaller in real life than she did on TV. A lunchroom had been transformed into a makeup area and, as they passed the doorway, Jeremiah caught a glimpse of a long-limbed young man in a bright blue smock bent over someone, applying powder with an artist’s brush.

“I’ve found him,” Scott announced loudly to no one in particular. “He was hiding out in the back hallway. I think he has a case of the jitters.”

“Get him in here!” The lanky makeup artist was patting an empty seat with one hand and waving to Scott with the other.

Jeremiah went in and took a seat next to Natalie Young, who looked at him demurely and held out her hand.

“I’m Dr. Natalie Young,” she said. “I’ll be taking the Meld with you tonight. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Adams.”

Jeremiah shook her hand and said nothing. So much for telepathic messaging, he thought. But of more immediate concern to him was the question of what she would detect under the Meld. She was almost certain to discover his suspicions and his plan to warn Diana. He had to nip that in the bud.

Leaning in close to her, speaking just above a whisper, he told her bluntly about his wife’s affair.

“I know,” she told him. “I read the report. We’ll discuss it later.”

“I just thought you should know before the Meld,” he said. “You know, in case you pick up on anything strange. I thought you should understand I’m sort of upset about everything. There’s bound to be something.”

She nodded. “Noted,” she said. “I’ll look past