ear that she never agreed to have her husband sent to Aurora Life Extension. She didn't believe her husband agreed and was convinced he was tricked into signing the papers Hench presented to her.
"I assure you, Mrs. Davis, no one coerced your husband into signing anything against his will. Perhaps, as I suggested, he was going to tell you the day of his unfortunate demise."
Hench's suggestion only seemed to infuriate Sarah Davis that much more, so he assured her that he would have the family liaison contact her, first thing in the morning. Hench bid her goodbye and swung his chair around to stare out at the desert below the Ford Institute. In the distance, evening thunderclouds were forming over the far desert. Hench turned away from the view.
She's going to be trouble.
Now, he grabbed the phone from its cradle and mashed the top button on his speed dial.
It was his direct line to Aurora Life Extension.
Chapter 34
The grizzled mortician looked up in annoyance at Marty Branigan.
Marty extracted a flat I.D. folder from the inner pocket of her jacket. "I'm here about Alley Teaks."
The mortician clamped the Danish briar pipe in his mouth, and examined Marty's credentials. He frowned. "Phoenix Sun? I thought that rag went out of business."
Marty looked at him evenly. "No, not quite. Now, about my inquiry. I know this was the funeral home where Ally was allegedly sent after her death. Did you have any unusual requests by the family for her internment?"
The mortician stared at her for a moment, sucking his pipe, then rose. Marty followed him into an adjoining room where several caskets were stacked.
"First of all, Ms. Branigan, all that is, as you already know, confidential. If I were to divulge any information, the Governor would have me thrown out of the state. Second, what the hell gives you the right to come into my office--"
Before he could finish, Marty shoved a piece of paper in front of him. She could see the color drain from his face and he took a step back.
"Alright, you win," he said. "Let's go into my office and talk."
Chapter 35
Sarah Savis had gone over it in her mind five hundred times, but nothing made sense. Her lawyer had told her in no uncertain terms there was nothing he could do. Jim had signed the document. Why would he do that?
Her intellect answered loud and clear: he wouldn't.
And her gut sensed otherwise as well. It was irrational and it made no sense. He wouldn't have done that. She felt physically sick with unease.
She wiped hastily at her eyes with a Kleenex and stood up from the kitchen table. She ached in every muscle and joint, and what sleep she'd gotten had not lessened her exhaustion. She didn't want sedatives, she'd told her own doctor. She wanted answers.
By now, Sarah had learned enough about Hench--some of it from him, much of it from the nurses--to know he had a stellar reputation. He had been a busy neurosurgeon, but over the last two years had dedicated more and more time to post-death resuscitation through cryonic suspension. His dedication to the relatively new science, in some nurses' estimates, bordered on obsession. Perhaps too obsessed?
After numerous failed attempts to contact Aurora Life Extension, Sarah Davis decided to do the only thing a grieving wife could do. She would go there in person tomor, knock on their doors and demand to see her husband. Frozen or not.
* * *
From the banks of mailboxes at the main entrance to the Leisure World Retirement Community, Diego Salvez learned that Sarah Davis was in villa twenty-nine. He scaled the stucco-coated wall and dropped down to plush grass, which bordered a median filled with palms and ficuses. Following the entrance drive, he found number twenty-nine.
No one was in sight. Leisure World was silent, peaceful.
Though it was a few minutes past midnight, lights were on in the Davis villa. Diego could hear a television blaring.
The window to the right of the door was covered with horizontal blinds. The slats were
"I assure you, Mrs. Davis, no one coerced your husband into signing anything against his will. Perhaps, as I suggested, he was going to tell you the day of his unfortunate demise."
Hench's suggestion only seemed to infuriate Sarah Davis that much more, so he assured her that he would have the family liaison contact her, first thing in the morning. Hench bid her goodbye and swung his chair around to stare out at the desert below the Ford Institute. In the distance, evening thunderclouds were forming over the far desert. Hench turned away from the view.
She's going to be trouble.
Now, he grabbed the phone from its cradle and mashed the top button on his speed dial.
It was his direct line to Aurora Life Extension.
Chapter 34
The grizzled mortician looked up in annoyance at Marty Branigan.
Marty extracted a flat I.D. folder from the inner pocket of her jacket. "I'm here about Alley Teaks."
The mortician clamped the Danish briar pipe in his mouth, and examined Marty's credentials. He frowned. "Phoenix Sun? I thought that rag went out of business."
Marty looked at him evenly. "No, not quite. Now, about my inquiry. I know this was the funeral home where Ally was allegedly sent after her death. Did you have any unusual requests by the family for her internment?"
The mortician stared at her for a moment, sucking his pipe, then rose. Marty followed him into an adjoining room where several caskets were stacked.
"First of all, Ms. Branigan, all that is, as you already know, confidential. If I were to divulge any information, the Governor would have me thrown out of the state. Second, what the hell gives you the right to come into my office--"
Before he could finish, Marty shoved a piece of paper in front of him. She could see the color drain from his face and he took a step back.
"Alright, you win," he said. "Let's go into my office and talk."
Chapter 35
Sarah Savis had gone over it in her mind five hundred times, but nothing made sense. Her lawyer had told her in no uncertain terms there was nothing he could do. Jim had signed the document. Why would he do that?
Her intellect answered loud and clear: he wouldn't.
And her gut sensed otherwise as well. It was irrational and it made no sense. He wouldn't have done that. She felt physically sick with unease.
She wiped hastily at her eyes with a Kleenex and stood up from the kitchen table. She ached in every muscle and joint, and what sleep she'd gotten had not lessened her exhaustion. She didn't want sedatives, she'd told her own doctor. She wanted answers.
By now, Sarah had learned enough about Hench--some of it from him, much of it from the nurses--to know he had a stellar reputation. He had been a busy neurosurgeon, but over the last two years had dedicated more and more time to post-death resuscitation through cryonic suspension. His dedication to the relatively new science, in some nurses' estimates, bordered on obsession. Perhaps too obsessed?
After numerous failed attempts to contact Aurora Life Extension, Sarah Davis decided to do the only thing a grieving wife could do. She would go there in person tomor, knock on their doors and demand to see her husband. Frozen or not.
* * *
From the banks of mailboxes at the main entrance to the Leisure World Retirement Community, Diego Salvez learned that Sarah Davis was in villa twenty-nine. He scaled the stucco-coated wall and dropped down to plush grass, which bordered a median filled with palms and ficuses. Following the entrance drive, he found number twenty-nine.
No one was in sight. Leisure World was silent, peaceful.
Though it was a few minutes past midnight, lights were on in the Davis villa. Diego could hear a television blaring.
The window to the right of the door was covered with horizontal blinds. The slats were