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Shannon wiped her eyes with the tissue. “How am I going to get past this? And now, I might be a murder target…”
“It’s okay, honey.” With deep compassion, Claire stroked Shannon’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I wish we could undo the damage Jim did to you. But I do know you will get past this and thrive. I can sense it just from touching you. It’s going to be all right.”
“Really?” Shannon asked hopefully.
“Really. As for being a target, our team’s not letting that happen. So put it out of your mind.” With that, Claire rose. “Let me help move this case along in my own way. I’ll be back shortly. Lisa provided me with Julie’s personal items—some of her clothes and things like family photos and a few pieces of jewelry. We also have her cell phone, checkbook, and several other things. I spent a good portion of last night using them to see if I picked up any of Julie’s feelings or discoveries. I got some fuzzy images. I want to see if I can crystalize them in my mind. But I’ll come back before you leave.”
Claire’s reassurance was purposeful. It was obvious that Shannon was attached to her. If it weren’t for time being of the essence, she would have put off her work until after Shannon left, just so she could be there for her. But if she could get anything to share with Shannon that would trigger some additional memories, it would be worth it.
Surprisingly, Shannon perked up, rather than looking crestfallen. “Would what you’re doing work with my stuff, too?”
Quizzically, Claire gazed at her, shaking her head in non-comprehension. “What stuff? I’m not following.”
“If you can hold Julie’s things and get visions about her and who she was dealing with, maybe you could do the same thing with me. I’ve got something that was once very meaningful to me. And if you could tap into its energy…” Shannon dug around in her backpack and pulled out a stopwatch. “I was thinking of this.”
Claire gazed at it thoughtfully, sensing that it was significant—and was about to become more so. “You used it when you trained?”
“Yes.” Shannon pressed it into Claire’s hand.
Claire sucked in her breath. “Julie didn’t give this to you, did she?”
“No.” Slowly, Shannon shook her head. “Jim Robbins did.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
St. Thomas, Virgin Islands
The Living Room was Max’s favorite meeting room at the luxurious Ritz Carlton. The room had a breathtaking ocean view and looked out over the hotel’s exquisite courtyard. It was a vacationer’s dream.
Today, however, The Living Room had been transformed from a warmly decorated, crystal-chandeliered meeting area into something resembling the stage on American Idol. Inside the room, a raised dais of three people, with Max in the center, was situated way up front, below which sat an empty horseshoe-shaped table. Outside in the hallway was a stream of eager, nervous contestants.
The contestants—Max’s nationwide web of athletic trainers—were shifting or pacing anxiously, each one sizing up the competition and convincing themselves that he or she, along with one of their trainees, would be the winner. The prize: a primo position in Max’s elite cadre of trainers, accompanied by his or her chosen trainee, who’d be expected to be one of the
next Olympians or future Einsteins. The two-person team would be transferred from the members’ individual homes to Max’s private, secret estate. Nondisclosure agreements would be signed. The trainers’ salaries and expense allowances would double, and if Max’s projections were to be believed, they would be part of the team that achieved what evolution had failed to do in two hundred thousand years: create a smarter, faster, stronger human being.
Each trainer had the chance to present three of their finest athletes. Their sales pitch would be punctuated by evaluative comments from the other two occupants of the dais: Dr. Leonid Eltsin, Max’s head physiologist, who would provide physical and medical assessments, and Dr. Galina Petrova, Max’s head psychologist in charge of the administration of the scathing battery of mental tests used to gauge each candidate’s progress, all of which helped her comprise the ultimate character and intelligence evaluations.
It normally took over a week to make this size evaluative meeting happen. Dmitry had trimmed the process down to five days—five days to summon all the nationwide trainers, to inform them to choose their three top contenders and book all their flights for this trip, to make the necessary hotel accommodations, and to have everything set up precisely as Max expected.
That was part of why Dmitry was where he was in Max’s hierarchy. There was little or nothing he couldn’t accomplish for his employer.
Now, he stepped inside the room and gave Max a questioning look.
Max nodded.
Holding open The Living Room door, Dmitry turned to speak to the first trainer—Dave Perkins—asking him to join them.
Dave wasn’t new to this process. He’d been here once before, at which time he and his athletes were not selected. That had really gotten him pissed off, not at Max but at himself, igniting his competitive spirit. Dave liked winning and had been training winning teams and individual athletes for over twenty years. Failure only drove him harder.
For the past few months, he had brutally and ruthlessly driven his athletes to the point of breaking while still adhering to Max’s strict limitations on the supplements provided. But Dave’s relentless pushing had paid off. Each candidate had improved his physical score from an average of ninety-one to an impressive ninety-five. Mental test scores had gone from eighty-nine to ninety-four.
He walked up to the lectern and nodded in deference to Max, and then to Doctors Leonid Eltsin and Galina Petrova. He steeled himself to look Max in the eye during his presentation. Even though he’d met his employer once before—on his first trip to St. Thomas—he was no less intimidated by the scientific genius’s mere presence.
Sucking in his breath, Dave presented his first, and most impressive, candidate, Daniel McCurd—a college junior who was head of the swim team, a track and field superstar, and a four-point-oh student. Dave described all of Daniel’s attributes in great detail and then motioned for the AV person to start the video. The visuals were quite impressive. Daniel was on a path to compete in the Ironman triathlon series and someday to win the Ford Ironman World Championship in Kona, Hawaii.
Max calmly turned to Dr. Eltsin and asked for his opinion. The physiologist pulled out a report and confirmed both the test results and the improvement over the past few months. Next it was Dr. Petrova’s turn. She pointed out that the candidate’s extreme stress levels had reduced his mental score from ninety-five to ninety-four. Dave grimaced. He knew that he was to blame for that drop in Daniel’s mental score. He’d been pushing him relentlessly on the physical front.
Max’s expression was completely unreadable. He looked at Dave, uttered a perfunctory “Thank you,” and then proceeded to turn his attention to the score sheet in front of him.
