ability.”
“Genetic engineering.” That explained why Blake was so perfect. “Prentice was trying to create superbabies.”
“Though he had ethical reservations, my dad agreed to monitor the experiment.” He set down the photo and returned to the chair beside the sofa. “He measured the intellectual and psychological development of the supposed superbabies. Using subjects like you.”
“Me?” she squeaked.
“You’re highly intelligent. Your health is excellent.”
“But I’m not perfect. All I have to do is look in a mirror to see that my mouth is too big. My nose has a weird curve at the tip. Besides, if I’m so genetically attractive, why don’t I have a slew of boyfriends?”
“You’ve put all your energy into your intellect,” he said. “When other girls were dating, you were studying.”
She waved her hands to erase the memory of herself peering out from behind a stack of books to watch the other teenagers flirting and kissing in the library. Not that she’d been a recluse. She had gotten along well with guys and had had boyfriends. But there had always been something that got in the way. Her romantic life had been complicated to the point of nonexistence. “A truly superior specimen should be able to have it all.”
“That’s the part that fascinated my dad—the effects of nurturing and environment on subjects who started life with a genetic advantage.”
“Wait.” She hadn’t even considered this angle. “If I was genetically engineered, the people who raised me aren’t my biological parents. Did they know?”
“None of the parents knew. That was part of the study.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against his father’s desk. “You seem to be taking this well.”
“In a sick way, it makes sense. Why not help nature along in the selection process? Why not make sure the most highly evolved people produce offspring?”
“Because it’s wrong to manipulate people.”
“It’s morally shady,” she said.
“It’s fraud.”
“But logical,” she said. “Now I understand why Prentice impregnated me. He wants to create a second generation.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know.”
All she wanted was to get home, surround herself with silence and figure out how to restructure her life to accommodate a child.
Outside the office door, she heard other mourners arriving. They’d be eating, drinking and sharing memories of Dr. Ray, seeking solace in the company of others. Blake should be out there with his father’s friends and colleagues. On the day of his father’s funeral, he deserved closure.
She stood and straightened her shoulders. “I’m glad you told me, Blake. I don’t blame your father. Not in the least. Dr. Ray was a good man.”
“I know.”
“Can I have my car keys? I need to go home.”
He looked surprised. “I thought you were staying here tonight.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather be alone.”
“What about Prentice? I need to get in touch with him.”
She took her cell phone from her purse, scanned her contacts and gave him the number for Dr. Prentice’s private cell phone. “That’s the best I can do.”
As he handed over the keys, their hands touched. A spark of static electricity raced up her arm. She wondered if she’d ever see him again.
BLAKE STOOD ON THE PORCH and watched her drive away. He understood her need to be alone. When he had read the e-mail informing him that he wasn’t biologically his father’s son, Blake had felt as if somebody had punched him in the gut. Eve had a lot more to deal with. Finding out that she was pregnant without her consent or knowledge had to be a hell of a shock. Her life wasn’t any of his business, but he hoped she wasn’t considering adoption.
A couple of years ago, when he had been in college, his girlfriend had thought she might be pregnant. She’d knocked him for a loop. The only comparable feeling was when he had parachuted for the first time from fifteen thousand feet into enemy territory. He had known his life would be forever changed. That realization had been followed by an irrational sense of awe. Creating a new life? A miracle! When it had turned out to be a false alarm, his relief had mingled with deep regret.
He hoped that Eve would come to see her pregnancy in a positive light. No matter what she decided, he wouldn’t abandon her. His dad’s dying wish had been for him to take care of her.
Aunt Jean came out to the porch. “Are you coming inside?”
“I need to make a phone call first.”
“Well, hurry up. People are asking about you.”
His aunt meant well, as did his father’s old friends. But Blake didn’t see the point in mourning, not while the killer went free. That was why he needed to contact Prentice.
The cops had no leads in solving his dad’s murder. They’d found no fingerprints or trace evidence. Because the burglar alarm had been expertly disabled and the safe robbed, they suspected a professional burglar.
Though Blake hadn’t revealed the contents of his dad’s e-mail, he had mentioned Prentice as a person with a grudge against his father. At his insistence, the homicide detective had spoken to Dr. Edgar Prentice—founder of the world-renowned Aspen IVF and Genetics Clinic in the mountains. Prentice’s alibi was airtight; he’d been out of state at the time of the murder.
Of course, he’d cover his butt. Prentice would hire someone else to do his dirty work.
On his military cell phone that wouldn’t give away his identity, Blake called the number Eve had given him. Prentice answered immediately. “Who is this?”
“Blake Jantzen. We need to talk.”
“How did you get this number?”
“From Eve.”
“Thank God you’re with her.”
Blake hadn’t expected that response. The old bastard sounded as if he was concerned about Eve. “Why do you say that?”
“I might have inadvertently put her in danger. Stay with her, Blake. Your father would have wanted—”
“Don’t talk to me about my father.” Unless you want to confess to his murder.
“I should have called, should have made it to the funeral. I’m sorry. Sorry for your loss.”
“Where are you?” Blake demanded. “I want to see you.”
“That’s not possible,” Prentice said. “Stay with Eve. Make sure she’s
