Chapter 1 - THE MESSAGE I SENT WITH MY EYES
Jessica slapped me before David kissed her.
That was the order.
I remember because by then details were the only weapons I still controlled.
Her palm struck my left cheek hard enough to turn my head against the pillow.
The heart monitor beside me accelerated.
David did not tell her to stop.
He leaned over my hospital bed, wrapped one hand around my chin, and forced my face back toward them.
“Look at me.”
My muscles barely obeyed me anymore.
My eyes did.
Jessica smiled down at me in a dark red satin dress.
“Still breathing?”
She ran one manicured finger along the bruise beneath my eye.
“That’s inconvenient.”
David laughed.
Four months earlier, that laugh still made strangers trust him.
He had spent years perfecting the appearance of gentleness.
Handsome.
Patient.
Soft spoken.
The husband who opened doors.
The man nurses praised because he insisted on feeding his dying wife himself.
Nobody noticed how closely he watched every spoon enter my mouth.
Nobody noticed the faint bitterness because nobody else tasted my food.
I did.
The first time I noticed it, I blamed medication.
The second time, I saved part of the meal.
The third time, I sent a sample through a private laboratory controlled by my attorney.
The result changed everything.
I was not dying from the rare degenerative illness David told everyone I had.
I was being poisoned.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Now Jessica pulled my blanket down as though exposing furniture scheduled for disposal.
David pointed toward the floor to ceiling windows.
“Measure it properly.”
Jessica snapped out a silver tape measure.
“This entire wall?”
“This room will be yours tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.
They had chosen a timetable.
Jessica stretched the tape across my body.
The cold metal touched my ribs.
She laughed.
“Maybe cream curtains.”
David slid his arms around her from behind.
“You hated cream.”
“That was before I saw how depressing this room looks.”
I watched them through half closed eyes.
My eye tracking computer sat eighteen inches from my right hand.
David believed it was only a communication device.
It was.
Mostly.
After my muscles weakened, Samuel Greene, my attorney, arranged for a specialist to install secure access commands.
David hated the machine.
He called it expensive nonsense.
He never asked what it could access.
That was his mistake.
Jessica leaned over me again.
“Watch closely.”
She brushed my hair away from my forehead.
“You won’t be here for the makeover.”
Then she slapped me again.
My vision flashed white.
David kissed her neck.
Right beside my bed.
I let my eyes drift toward the computer.
The cursor followed.
SECURE COMMUNICATION.
Blink.
ATTORNEY.
Blink.
PROTOCOL BLACK.
Blink.
A warning appeared.
CONFIRM?
I stared at YES.
The machine emitted a soft tone.
David stopped kissing Jessica.
“What did she just do?”
I moved one shaking hand.
Not because I needed the computer.
Because I wanted him looking somewhere else.
My fingers struck the water glass.
It fell.
Shattered.
Jessica jumped.
David spun toward the floor.
I completed the final command.
SEND.
The computer gave one sharp confirmation tone.
David lunged.
“What did you send?”
His hand hit the edge of the screen.
Jessica grabbed his arm.
“David?”
He pulled the cable from the back.
Too late.
The message had already left.
SAMUEL.
ACTIVATE PROTOCOL BLACK.
RELEASE THE TOXICOLOGY FILE.
FREEZE ALL JOINT ACCESS.
DO NOT WARN DAVID.
The reply had appeared almost instantly.
CONFIRMED.
BLACK ONE ACTIVE.
BLACK TWO REMAINS LOCKED UNTIL DEATH CERTIFICATION OR CLAIRE’S DIRECT RELEASE.
David saw only one line before the screen died.
PROTOCOL BLACK ACTIVE.
His face changed.
He grabbed my shoulder.
“What is Protocol Black?”
I forced air through my throat.
For weeks I had communicated mostly through the device.
David thought my voice was nearly gone.
He did not know I had been conserving it.
“Too late.”
Jessica stared at me.
Then at him.
“You said she couldn’t talk.”
David ignored her.
He yanked open the drawer beside my bed.
Nothing.
He searched beneath my pillow.
Nothing.
He opened the cabinet containing my medication.
“What did you send?”
My heartbeat accelerated.
Then footsteps sounded outside.
David froze.
Not ordinary footsteps.
Several people.
Measured.
Fast.
Jessica whispered:
“Who is that?”
The door handle moved.
David backed away from me.
The door opened.
Samuel Greene entered first.
Sixty eight.
Gray hair.
Navy suit.
My attorney since I was twenty four years old.
Behind him stood Dr. Amelia Grant, the physician I had secretly hired three weeks earlier.
Two private security officers followed.
Then a woman stepped through the doorway.
She was perhaps forty.
Blonde hair cut short.
Dark coat.
A pale scar ran from beneath her ear toward her jaw.
David stopped breathing.
Jessica looked from her to him.
“Who is she?”
The woman stared directly at David.
“You told another one I was dead?”
Jessica turned sharply.
“What?”
David whispered:
“Rachel.”
The woman smiled without humor.
“Hello, David.”
Jessica’s face emptied.
I looked at my husband.
Then managed the faintest smile.
May you like
“Ask him what else you never knew.”
Continue to the next part: The woman David told Jessica was dead knows exactly what happened the last time one of his wives became mysteriously ill.
