12
Aaron closed the door and leaned against it, exhausted. The stress of this project alone was wearing him out, and this detective, this man calling himself John Robertson, was making it worse.
Where the hell had he heard of oDN A? Only a handful of people besides him and Julia, all with top security clearances, were privy to it. Every mention of it—and there hadn't been many—had been expunged from public and private records.
So where had…?
Gerhard must have told him.
But he'd said Gerhard was dead when he found him…
Just last night, Aaron had concluded that someone had tapped into his home computer. He assumed it had been Gerhard. His own damn fault, really. Last year he'd succumbed to the alluring convenience of a home wireless network. His daughter wanted it—everybody was doing it—and after a while the idea of sitting down with his laptop and surfing the Internet from any room in the house had proven too seductive.
He'd been able to set up the network—firewall and all—in a matter of hours, and it had been a great convenience. But last night he'd discovered that a few old documents on his hard drive had been recently accessed. It hadn't been him, and he was sure it wasn't his wife or daughter.
That left someone from outside. If Gerhard had the means to breach the firewall, all he'd have had to do was sneak to the side of the house with a wireless-enabled laptop and tap into the network.
The good news was that Aaron had a habit of turning off his computer before turning in, otherwise Gerhard would have had all night to wander through his files.
That had been the end of the Levy wireless network.
As for this detective, he'd worry later about how he'd heard of oDNA.
He peeked out the sidelight and watched Robertson get into his car. Had he bought the story about Bolton's alibi? Flimsy at best, but no way to disprove it. As he drove off Aaron tried to get a look at his license plate but couldn't make out the numbers. He remained at the sidelight, watching the yard after Robertson's taillights disappeared.
Bolton could be out there. He shuddered at the thought. Damn it, he wished the man were back behind bars. He didn't care what Julia said, or what warnings or threats she'd issued to Bolton, he was a loose cannon, primed and ready to fire.
Aaron wanted to see the therapy succeed as much as Julia did. Well, almost as much. Nobody had more invested in D-287, time and careerwise, than Julia. But he wanted someone other than Jeremy Bolton to be the guinea pig. He'd been overruled, however, and he couldn't risk doing anything to jeopardize the clinical trial. At least not directly.
But indirectly…
Robertson or whoever he really was… he struck him as someone as foolish as Gerhard, someone who would keep poking his nose where it didn't belong.
Which wouldn't be a bad thing if Aaron could guide him in a useful direction, one that would trip him into exposing Bolton's identity and ending the trial. Robertson could act as a stalking horse of sorts. And if he wound up exposing Bolton, the resultant shit storm would focus on him, leaving Aaron watching safely from the sidelines.
Yes… this had possibilities.