Secret Sanctuary Part 13

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. "He actually believes in this hocus pocus?"

"So he says." Absently Elizabeth tapped her chin with her fingertip. "It seems like there's something about him I should remember."

Cullen shot her a glance. "He's not secretly a werewolf or something, is he?"

Elizabeth grinned. "Nothing quite that interesting.

Some kind of scandal a.s.sociated with him," she mused. "It happened a few years ago. I'm not certain of the timeline, but it involved another scientist. Manning's protege, I believe. He had an odd name." She thought for a moment. "Rathfastar. Dr. Rene Rathfastar."

Cullen shot her a glance. "What the h.e.l.l kind of name is that?"

"Shush. I'm trying to remember exactly what happened. As I recall, they were both working at the time on the Human Genome Project, but there were rumors they were both affiliated with some sort of secret society whose methodology wasn't endorsed by the mainstream scientific community. To put it bluntly, members of the society didn't necessarily concern themselves with the ethical and moral dilemmas that bedevil most legitimate research into human DNA."

"What kind of secret society are we talking about here?" Cullen"s gaze looked skeptical. "You mean skull and crossbones type stuff?"

"More like a scientific Trilateral Commission," Elizabeth told him. "I've heard rumors that the members.h.i.+p contains some pretty powerful scientists. But. of course, it is just a rumor. I'm not at all certain such an organization really exists. It could be just another legend. Supposedly, however, the society dates back to the 1600s, when a group of scientists banded together to perform secret experiments on witches."

"And Manning is a member of this group?"

Elizabeth nodded. "According to local gossip. As was Dr. Rathfastar. And, come to think of it, so was Geoffrey Pierce."

Cullen turned. "What's Pierce got to do with all this?"

"I don't know that he does these days, but he used to be a wannabe scientist who used his family money and influence to buy his way into some important research projects. However, he never published any important findings."

"What about David Bryson? He's some kind of scientist, too, isn't he?"

"I never heard his name linked to the society, so I don't know." Elizabeth wondered if Cullen was thinking what she was thinking. All the men they'd just mentioned would have the know-how, as well as the equipment, to have performed such a grisly procedure on Bethany Peters. But where was the motive?

"I've gone up to Bryson's place to try and talk to him a couple of times, but that butler of his is pretty protective," Cullen said. "He wouldn't let me in."

"You think Bryson had something to do with Bethany's murder?"

"He was a suspect twenty years ago. A lot of people in town still have strong feelings about him." Cullen reached over and adjusted the controls on the heater. "But forget Bryson for the time being. Tell me what else you remember about Manning."

Elizabeth frowned in concentration. "There was some controversy regarding his research. Dr. Rathfastar accused Manning of publis.h.i.+ng stolen findings, and Manning, in turn, claimed Rathfastar was a dangerous fanatic who used human test subjects in his research."

"Wow. A regular Dr. Frankenstein," Cullen commented dryly.

But Elizabeth barely heard him. She was remembering something else about Manning. An image came to her suddenlya"her mother and father late one night sitting at the kitchen table. Elizabeth had come down for a drink of water and was surprised to find them there, in such a cozy, domestic setting. She'd wanted very much to join them, to tell them about her day or to simply sit quietly and listen while they talked.

But their low, angry tones kept her at bay, and she'd listened unabashedly at the door.

I've never made any secret of my feelings, Edward. You know I've always believed Leland Manning to be a fraud. A dangerous one at that.

For G.o.d's sake, Marion, you can't really mean that. The man is a genius. His research into the human genome is nothing short of phenomenal.

Research that he stole from his own colleagues. Her mother's tone grew acid.

Her father was silent for a moment, then he said angrily, "So that's it. You're taking his side."

"I'm not taking anyone's side, but I'm ent.i.tled to my own opinion. I happen to believe Rene."

"So it's Rene now, is it?" There was something in her father's voice that frightened Elizabeth.

"Oh, for G.o.d's sake, Edward, don't be ridiculous. The man is a colleague. What would you have me call him?"

"I don't give a d.a.m.n what you call him. Just never mention his name in my presence again."

The memory spun away, and Elizabeth felt goose-flesh p.r.i.c.kle on the back of her neck, as if she'd inadvertently remembered something forbidden.

"Elizabeth?"

Cullen's voice roused her from the past. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking. What did you say?"

"What happened to this Rathfastar character?"

She shrugged. "He just disappeared. For a while, I think there were whispers among their colleagues that Manning might have done him in. but then someone saw Rathfastar in Europe. In Brussels, I believe. Then later it was learned that he'd been in a terrible car accident and wasn't expected to live."

"Did he?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't know. After the rumors died down, I never heard his name mentioned again." Certainly not at home.

"I still say all this sounds like something from a bad sci-fi movie."

""Well, it's not." she a.s.sured him. "Gene therapy and genetic engineering are here. So is cloning. The human race is going to have to find a way to deal with the moral and ethical dilemmas that will inevitably follow."

Cullen shot her a glance. "If it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon stick with the murder."

THE GUARD at the gate hurried over to the car and peered in the window. Cullen rolled down the gla.s.s, and the man shone his light inside the car.

"Dr. Douglas? That you?"

"Good evening, George."

The guard flicked off the flashlight and glanced from Elizabeth to Cullen, frowning. "Out kind of late in this weather, aren't you?"

"I'm in good company, George. You remember Detective Ryan."

"Sure do." George's gaze was disapproving. "Are you here on official business?"

"Just dropping Dr. Douglas off at her place." An edge of impatience crept into Cullen's voice. "How about opening those gates for us?"

George wasn't one for being told how to do his job. He hesitated, and for a moment, Elizabeth thought he might actually refuse. He was only thirty-five or so, but a rounding middle and a balding pate gave him an older appearance. He'd been around for as long as Elizabeth could remember, and he took his job very seriously.

"You take care, Dr. Douglas," he finally said. He went back to the guardhouse and pressed the control so that the heavy, iron gates slid open.

Cullen stepped on the gas and the car shot through the opening before the gates had fully extended. "That guy's kind of protective of you, isn't he?"

"George? He's always been that way."

"How long has he worked here?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Forever, it seems."

"Know anything about his background?"

"Not really, but I'm sure he has an employee file in the administration office. But for heaven's sakes, Cullen, you can't really suspect George. He's harmless."

"Is he?"

Was he? How much did Elizabeth really know about George Wiley? How much did she know about anyone at Heathrow? Or anyone in town for that matter?

But George? He'd always been so nice to her. Always looked out for her.

Elizabeth remembered once when he'd caught her and Kat climbing the tree branches on the southwest side of the campus to scale the wall after curfew. He'd read them the riot act, but he hadn't written them up.

for which Elizabeth had been grateful. But Kat had scoffed at the gesture. "He's just trying to impress you. I think he has a little crush on you." she'd teased. After that night. Kat had dubbed him the Gate n.a.z.i. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's planted a few hidden cameras in the dorms."

"Kat! George wouldn't do that. He's a nice man."

"Oh, grow up. Elizabeth. You're so naive. Everybody knows the man's a perv."

Elizabeth hated to think that her perception of someone could be that far off base.

Cullen pulled into a parking s.p.a.ce and killed the engine. When he came around to open her door, he even went so far as to put out a hand to her. Elizabeth took it, feeling the warmth of his flesh against hers. Feeling all tingly with antic.i.p.ation.

She'd hadn't left a light on in the house, but there was a security light at the edge of her tiny yard and another one in the tiny green directly across from her house. She could see Cullen's features only faintly as he walked her to her door.

Elizabeth leaned against the frame, suddenly shy. "It's a cold night. Do you want to come in for a cup of tea?"

He hesitated. "I'd better be going."

He leaned down suddenly, and for one breathless moment. Elizabeth thought he was going to kiss her. Everything stilled inside her as she waited. As she wanted.

But instead, he lifted a hand to gently brush against her cheek. "You've still got a bruise. I noticed it the other day."

"I got it at the funeral home." Elizabeth unconsciously lifted her hand to the spot, and their fingers brushed, entangled. She closed her eyes briefly at the contact.

He leaned in, planting his other hand on the doorframe above her head. "I shouldn't do this."

Elizabeth swallowed. "Do what?"

"Kiss you."

"Oh." She swallowed again and barely had time to draw a breath before Cullen's lips brushed against hers. Softly. Curiously. Cautiously.

He lifted his head. "Are you going to slap my face?"

Hardly.

She shook her head.

For the longest moment, their gazes held. Then he kissed her again, and this time there was nothing curious or cautious about the action. His mouth pressed against hers, moving slowly back and forth until Elizabeth's lips parted eagerly, and she heard herself sigh.

She'd dreamed about this moment so often she hardly dared to believe it was real. But it was. It was! Cullen Ryan was kissing her so pa.s.sionately she couldn't think straight. Couldn't breathe properly. And it was everything she'd thought it would be and more.

All these years, when Elizabeth had held herself aloof from pa.s.sion, she'd pretended that she wasn't saving herself for the right man so much as the right moment. The time for love simply hadn't presented itself. But now, with Cullen's lips on hers, with his fingers threading through her hair, shaking loose the prim bun at her nape, Elizabeth knew she'd been deluding herself.

She hadn't been saving herself for the right momerit. She'd been saving herself for Cullen. Only Cullen.

He pulled away, his eyes dark and mysterious in the filtered light. "You shouldn't be doing this with a guy like me."

"What do you mean?" she asked breathlessly.

"You know exactly what I mean."

"Cullena""

"There's a lot about my past I'm not proud of, Elizabeth."

"Regret isn't unique to you," she murmured.

He lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "What have you got to regret?" When she didn't answer, his expression sobered. "I'm not looking for a serious involvement right now. With anyone."

Her heart sank a bit. "Who says I am?"

He studied her for a moment. "Then what do you want from me, Elizabeth?"

"I...just want you to kiss me again."

He looked surprised. Then he laughed a little. "I can do that."

And he did. He kissed her over and over, until everything faded from Elizabeth's mind except the heat of his mouth on hers. Until her knees grew weak and she felt all quivery inside. Until her desire for Cullen almost overwhelmed her.

She'd never experienced this before. Never been kissed this way. Never wanted to go that final step as badly as she wanted to now.

Cullen drew away, looking a bit dazed himself. "Wow. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Am I?"

He laughed again. "d.a.m.n right. I wasn't expecting this from you, Elizabeth."

"What? That I know how to kiss?"

"That you'd want to, I guess."

"I'm not a prude."