Plank Factor Page 15
Her voice faded as she walked away. I looked at George before we entered the room.
“Well, here goes nothing,” I said.
George nodded and opened the door. The room was dark and I could see several men standing in a line through the one-way mirror.
The officer who’d escorted the neighbor returned.
“It’s him,” I said. “Number Five.”
George and the officer looked at each other. I thought George might kick up his heels with joy.
The man identified as Number Five was definitely the beady-eyed Man with No Name.
“All right.” George clapped his hands and rubbed them. Even though the Boulder police were handling the murder investigation, George would be able to look over their shoulders since it pertained to national security.
I tried to smile but felt less than enthusiastic.
We sat in a conference room, drinking coffee the color and consistency of burned diesel oil. If I hadn’t disliked soda and craved the caffeine, I would’ve taken a pass. Eight packs of sugar helped a little. Even so, I grimaced with each sip.
A plainclothes detective stuck his head in the door. “We’ve got a lead on where he may have bought the weapon.”
“Assuming he bought it,” I said. The two men stared at me.
“Good going,” George said. “I’ll need a chance to question the suspect. Can you keep me posted?”
“Absolutely. We’ll have him ready for you in ten minutes.” The detective ducked back out.
“This should be fun,” George said. “With a murder charge and other possible federal charges we can bring against this man, we should be able to cut a deal. We’re going to nip this group’s plans in the bud.” He turned to me and added, “You helped make this possible, Jess. I can’t thank you enough. Your country owes you a debt.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Six months later
Jessica
Boulder was ablaze with the golden leaves of aspen trees. The air was crisp and cool, but the sun was shining.
Shelley saw me in her office. I took a seat and awaited her verdict.
“I’m still not comfortable with the end,” she said.
I can’t say I was surprised. Even so, I asked, “Why?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Don’t you think it’s a bit corny? Derivative?”
“Maybe. But I can’t picture it ending any other way.”
Shelley shook her head and set her tortoise-rimmed glasses aside. “Can you take one more crack at it? Try for a more definite ending. More positive, maybe?”
I realized what she was getting at. “You think I sound like a crack-pot, right?”
She smiled and waved a dismissive hand, though her eyes didn’t reflect her casual air.
“You’ve been through quite the wringer,” she said. “You have every right to end this as you see fit. Just be forewarned, others may not like it.”
“I know. I’m just writing it as I see it. Anything else would be dishonest.”
She handed me her comments. “Good luck. I look forward to seeing it later.”
I thanked her and took the comments. Then I returned to my condo and took another look at the ending.
Alexis
Afterward, as they left the building, Daniel said, “Thank God that’s over. Now, we can have a proper reunion.”
He placed his arm around Alexis’ shoulders and they strolled like any other couple. Almost. Alexis was still very worried.
“What do you think they’re going to do with your research?” she asked.
Daniel heaved a sigh. “Probably nothing good.”
Mel delivered the research to an intelligence agent, who took the papers to a warehouse in northern Virginia outside Washington, D.C. There, a CIA clerk stowed them in a room filled with file cabinets. Each cabinet held documents deemed sensitive enough to be classified higher than “Top Secret.” The file was given a code name, allowing access only to the highest defense department and intelligence community officials. The clerk made sure to enter the name into a ledger: “The Planck Factor Research.”
JESSICA
As I read the ending again, I tried to imagine how I’d change it. A key rattled in the lock and Joel (the George Clooney look-alike, whose real name I finally knew) came in.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Great. I’ve finished a second draft. Now, I just have to revise it a few hundred more times and it’ll be ready.”
Joel came over and kissed me. I still thought of him as George and still thought he resembled his namesake.
“What was that for?” I asked.
“I need a reason to kiss my girlfriend?”
I grinned. “Of course not.”
“If not for you, I wouldn’t have transferred to the Denver office.”
I nodded. “I’m glad you did.”
“I’m so proud you finished the book. That’s major. Do you know how many people would like to do that? You have real talent.”
My face warmed. “Thanks. I hope I find an agent who agrees with you.”
We fell silent. “You never found that man who led the group, did you?” I said.
Joel frowned. “No. But I promise, we’re still looking.”
“I don’t suppose they’re any closer to figuring out who actually killed Fred.”
“No.” He paused and added, “I’m sorry.”
It figured. The anonymous killer was probably gone by now. Hiding in a non-extradition country, no doubt.
Even so, I was able to stop his insane plot to detonate Yellowstone. The entire incident still seemed like a bad dream.
“I wonder what happened to their leader,” I mused.
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t worry, if I were you.”
“Sure,” I said. Still I had to wonder what he wasn’t telling me.
EPILOGUE
Kevin
Kevin surveyed what he’d written with amazement. As a scientist and truth seeker at heart, he’d never thought of writing up his findings in any form except the straightforward scientific reports he was used to creating. Unfortunately, since it was clear that the truth was worse than anyone could bear, it had to be told as fiction.
It was Kevin who’d discovered the terrible possibilities suggested by the challenge to Einstein’s theory. He pondered the irony of his colleagues’ refusal to acknowledge the truth. The fact that they had dismissed Kevin’s concerns as the ravings of a lunatic had done nothing to minimize the government’s attention to his work.
Thus, by fictionalizing those concerns, he’d managed to bring them to light in a way that didn’t name names or threaten anyone.
Embedding the truth within yet another story (which, perhaps not so oddly, also reflected aspects of Kevin’s own life) was a clever way to create even more distance between readers and the truth, making the dreadful scenario of enhanced atom bombs and the greater potential for nuclear annihilation that much less real and more palatable.
And making the main characters women took him out of the picture entirely.
He felt incredibly grateful to the doctors who allowed him to use the laptop so he could write for “therapeutic purposes.”
Now that the story was finished, Kevin could copy the entire manuscript onto the flash drive he had received in secret from his daughter. He kept it stashed safely under the loose section of floor molding he’d discovered until she could pick it up during her next visit. Thank God for Denise, he thought. His lifeline to the outside world. She’d make sure the book got published. His late wife would have been so proud. He still felt the overwhelming grief of her loss, but reveled in the notion of her living on in his story.
Kevin had paid the highest price possible for finding the truth. He refused to let it lie without trying to get the story published somehow. Perhaps the true story told within a fictional one would lead people to wonder and ask questions.
He read the final chapters over once more, then stared at the pale green w
alls of his room. Institutional green, people called it. Appropriate. The day was cloudy and milky, thin light seeped through the lone barred window.
The door opened and a young orderly dressed in white stepped inside. He held a syringe.
“Time for your meds, doc.”
“I’m just finishing something up,” he said, turning back to the keyboard. “Can you continue your rounds and come back?”
The orderly glanced at his watch. “Well . . . .
“Please?”
The young man smiled and shrugged. “Okay. Be back in ten, doc.”
After the door closed, he muttered, “That’ll be more than enough time, thanks.”
Before the orderly returned to give him the shot that would keep him dazed for God-only-knew how long, he typed two more words before saving his work for the last time.
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book has been a long time in the making. It’s been run past a phalanx of discerning readers who have been instrumental in making it the story it is. I would like to thank everyone in my writer’s group (past and present) who has had the opportunity to review my drafts and provide their helpful insights, including Shaun Bevins, Ray Flynt, Lynda Hill, Mary Ellen Hughes, Becky Hutchison, Trish Marshall, Sherriel Mattingly, Bonnie Settle, and Marcia Talley. I owe a debt of gratitude to Dr. Alan Linde, Staff Scientist Emeritus at the Carnegie Institution of Washington, Washington, DC, for taking the time to inform me about some of the geological science addressed in the book. If there are factual errors, the fault lies entirely with me. The science may be exaggerated ever so slightly in the interest of creating a more suspenseful story. But you can blame me for that, too.
I’m also deeply indebted to the editor John Barclay-Morton, who also provided insights with respect to the theory of physics at the heart of the story. His comments added dimension to the plot that I hadn’t foreseen until he provided me with the edited manuscript. As always, I’m grateful to copyeditor Laurie Cullen for polishing the story. My graphic artist Stephen A. Williams designed an absolutely gorgeous cover. My thanks again to all of these people.
Last, but hardly least, I’d like to thank my brother (a scientist, who took the time to read the book and give it a thumbs up) and sister (one of my most discerning readers). Not to mention my long-suffering husband, Rick, who is always behind me one hundred and ten percent. You are all the best ever.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Debbi Mack is the New York Times bestselling author of the Sam McRae mystery series and a young adult novel, Invisible Me. She’s also had several short stories published in various anthologies and been nominated for a Derringer Award.
A former attorney, Debbi has also worked as a journalist, reference librarian, and freelance writer/researcher. Along with writing fiction, Debbi has branched into screenwriting and podcasting. Her biggest aspirations are to write her memoirs and make a documentary.
www.debbimack.com
Thank you for choosing to buy this book. If you enjoyed it, I hope you’ll do me the favor of leaving a short online review on a book retailer or other book review site. Nothing makes an author’s day like knowing they’ve made a reader happy.
I also hope you’ll consider trying another one of my books. I’ve listed them below and included a link to a free download at the end.
The Sam McRae Mystery Series
Identity Crisis
Least Wanted
Riptide
Deep Six
Short Stories
Five Uneasy Pieces
Deadly Detour (A Short Story)
For Young Readers
Invisible Me
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