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She yanked at her bound wrist again. The tape slipped. Pulled a little. She twisted her hand again. One good yank and...
Could she?
Probably. Someone really sucked at securing victims. Thank God.
“So, you are waking. Hello, my dear.”
Zoey froze.
The man stepped closer. "I had hoped you would stay sedated a bit longer. I was a bit busy a few doors down. I misjudged the dosage. With both of you. You are taller, and weigh around twenty more than she does, I believe. These newer drugs—I'm afraid I'm not very experienced with them, you understand."
"Who are you?" She'd seen him before. In a tux. He was older. Sixty-five or seventy. Had she danced with him at Melody's that night? Maybe. She’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Murdoch, that other than dancing with Murdoch’s brother, she couldn’t recall who else she’d danced with that night. But she had seen him before. "Why am I here?"
"We've met before. I am Dr. Gregory Eastman."
"You work at my brother's hospital." She pulled at the tape again. She could probably pull herself free. But to do it while he was looming over her—probably wouldn't be very smart. She had tothink.Find her way out of this. "What are you planning to do with me?"
"We’ll discuss that later. After…intake and processing. There is vital data and information I need before we begin. Tell me, are you completely healthy now? Recovered from the gunshot wounds last year? I have your medical records, of course. But if you answer me honestly, it will be more expedient for both of us."
"As healthy as I can be. Why am I here, Dr. Eastman?"Ok, she wasn't stupid here. This guy was seriously up to no good. But why her? It could have something to do with the TSP. Or her birth family. Something she'd stumbled into as the sheriff of Garrity? But that didn't make sense—not considering she'd been out of Garrity practically for fourteen months.
She’d met him at Melody’s. And now she…was here.
Her head was starting to clear.
To let even more fear slip in.
"I should probably explain. Before Vaughn and his friends arrive, to clean up other issues. You will not be missed. Neither will your sister."
"You have Penelope here." Terror slammed into her fast. Not her baby. No. NotPen."Where is my sister?"
"No. I do not havethatblue-haired young woman here. She did not meet my requirements. She should be perfectly safe in her psychology methods class at FCU right now." Annoyance crossed his face. At that fact, or that she was questioning? This man was a god—in his own head. Sociopath? Psychopath? Serial killer? Potentially all three. "I don't have time for questions.Whymust youallquestion me so? Cannot a one of you young ladies do as you are expected? Do you not understand howimportantmy work is?"
This guy…was completely off his rocker.
“Why should your work be more important than anyone else? What was your name again?” It was a jab at his ego, and she knew it. She just needed time tothink.
“Dr. Gregory Daviess Eastman, of course. You should have remembered that from us meeting before. I am the most noted sociologist of this century, young lady. Thebest.I have been doing longitudinal studies since long before you were born. You are a part of that now. As are your siblings, and their children, of course.”
“Not Pen. She isn’t here.” She just had to make certain.
“Of course not. She didn’t meet my requirements. I have no need for her.” He seemed almost irritated by the very thought.
She released a breath. Pen was safe. Pen wasn't here. Now, she had to focus on getting away.Could she overpower him? "Who else is in this building, Dr. Eastman?"
GregoryDaviessEastman.
Simon’s fake birth certificate had read Simon Gregory Daviess.
This definitely had something to do with her search for her mother’s past. The answers to where she and the rest of her siblings came from. She just had to figure out how this man tied into that. What he knew…
If he didn't have Pen, but had one of her sisters, which one? Ariella? Paige? Fear for them. If he'd sedated them...
Both were pregnant right now.
"That is irrelevant. Your part in the experiment is to donate the healthy eggs. That is it. The surrogate I have chosen will carry the embryo for me after it is fertilized and frozen briefly. Maybe even several, if she proves compliant. Which she should, of course. The alternative is not one a young woman of her intelligence would wish to contemplate. It is how this particular study is going to work. Then we will move on. You will do as you are ordered, and I will ensure you are not harmed significantly. When this experiment is done, when I have extracted as many eggs from you as I can, you will be disposed of in a humane manner. You have my word on that. It will be simple and painless. You will not suffer. Neither will the surrogate—who should be on her way now. I am not a monster."
No. Of course, he wasn’t. In his own head, maybe.
