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"The detailed toxicology report came back."

"And…"

"You know that the standard ER panel was clean," she said. "But that only tests for the usual suspects—opiates, benzos, cocaine. So, we ordered a comprehensive mass-spec panel from the reference lab, and that's what I have here. You can look at this later, but the gas chromatography-mass spec panel flagged an unidentified synthetic peak—a chemical signature with no matching molecular profile in any pharmaceutical or toxicological database."

"Are you speaking English?" he asked. "What does that mean?"

She smiled. "Sorry. It means that Jack was given an uncharacterized synthetic compound. It was probably engineered with a short half-life, flushing out of his system quickly. If we hadn't drawn his blood when we did, we might not have caught the spike at all."

"You're saying that Jack was injected with a drug you can't identify."

"Which means it's probably experimental or an off-the-books, lab-grade drug designed to leave no trace."

"What the hell did Jack get himself into?" Tyler muttered.

"I'm guessing some kind of experimental treatment program with unapproved medications," she said.

"He's a guinea pig."

"Maybe by choice. We don't know that he was coerced, at least not in the beginning."

"But at some point, he figured out something," Tyler said. "That's why he tried to get to me, why he told you he needed help, why he couldn't trust doctors to help him. Because there was at least one doctor who wasn't helping him at all."

She felt her stomach turn over at that truth. "I wish I didn't think you were right."

Silence filled the car as they both contemplated what they might be dealing with.

"Well, we're going to figure it out," Tyler said. "Thanks for sharing that with me."

"I told you I could be helpful. So, where exactly are we going?"

"Cornwall," he said, referring to an upstate town in Orange County, on the western side of the Hudson River. "It will take us another hour to get there."

"Well, it's a nice day for a drive. Tell me more about Evan. You said he's working at West Point?"

"Training the next generation," Tyler said with a nod. "He met his fiancée in Cornwall, Becca Jamison. She's a single mom. Has two boys, twelve and fourteen. I've only met her once, and I liked her. Although I do wonder how Evan will like living a life so different from the one he's lived for the past twenty years."

"He's still working with soldiers; that must be somewhat gratifying."

"He told me he enjoys it."

"But you don't think he's telling the truth?"

Tyler thought for a moment. "Evan was always a man of action, more comfortable kicking down doors and saving the world. It's difficult to picture him teaching a class and marrying someone with kids, living in the suburbs… It's just not the guy I knew."

"Will this be his first marriage?"

"Second. He was married in his twenties for a brief time, but that didn't last. She wanted to start a family, and he was just beginning his career."

"Maybe now is the right time for him to have a family."

"He seems to think so. Anyway, it's not my business. He can live his life any way he wants."

"Have you been married or had a long-term relationship?" she asked curiously.

"I've never been married, and I'm not good at long-term relationships. The jobs I have don't make that easy. I work long hours. Sometimes, I'm gone for days or weeks at a time. It's easier to be single. What about you?"

"I made it a year with a college boyfriend. Since then, my relationships have been much shorter. I also work a lot."