Aaron Jeffrey Kincaid finished reading through Governor Taylor’s confidential travel itinerary for the week, and then began perusing the guest list for the upcoming Cable News Forum luncheon. It had cost him nearly $80,000 to obtain this information from a woman named Anita Banner, but it had been worth every penny. And when he found out that she would be there too, he was even more pleased. It would eliminate the need of taking care of her in some slightly less subtle way.
He looked through the glass at Rebekah and Caleb.
The effects of the bacterium were beginning to show. Sweating, nausea, sharp mood swings. The rash would start soon, then bleeding from the intestines, the eyes, and then finally, pulmonary failure. It would not be a gentle death.
He glanced down at his hands and noticed that his shirtsleeve had pulled back, revealing the scar on the inside of his left wrist. He stopped and stared at it, gently rubbing his finger across the discolored skin.
The mark of true love.
Even after all this time, the scar was still visible, a reddish gash just over two inches long. The cut had been deeper than he’d originally thought, and without stitches it hadn’t healed evenly. Over the years it had even broken open a few times. And sometimes, on days like these, it still seemed to bother him. Still seemed to itch.
Maybe it itched because he was thinking about love once again. Maybe that was it. Or because he was thinking about Monday morning and how destiny would finally play out and about his family and about the babies and about the pawns he’d had Theodore leave beside the bodies of the young women and about how it would feel to watch the newscasts in the days following the luncheon as the disease trickled, traveled, spread family to family, husband to wife, lover to lover, friend to friend. One kiss, one sneeze, one handshake at a time. Around the world, evening the scales.
The Cable News Forum guest list read like a Who’s Who of the world’s media leaders and also included speeches by senators, congressmen, and dignitaries about First Amendment issues, the upcoming presidential election, FCC guidelines, and a number of other mediarelated issues. But really, Kincaid wasn’t interested in all that. He was most interested in the attendees: Juan Carlos Mendez, president of the Pacific Media Group; Roberta Stratham, CEO of Satellite Broadcast News, along with all the nation’s premier cable news correspondents and newscasters. And, of course, Governor Sebastian Taylor.
It was perfect. Especially considering the rest of the governor’s schedule for the week-appearances at the Pentagon, National Press Club, and a visit to CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia. In fact, the governor’s speaking schedule was one of the reasons he’d moved the plans to Monday instead of the original date in November.
He grazed the scar with his finger one last time. That afternoon with Jessie had been the first time he’d seen just how far someone would go to prove the depth of her beliefs. Of her love.
But it would not be the last.
Alexis and Bethanie hadn’t understood that. He’d had to spend another $120,000 to take care of them and to keep the plans alive. But in the end it was worth it.
Every time he touched his scar, it was as if he were reliving those moments with Jessie, those dreams of youth, all over again. Caressing them.
Some moments are meant to be caressed forever.
He smiled, pulled the shirtsleeve back over his wrist, and headed off to the Alexander Bros. Trucking Company to ship the vats of blood to Theodore.