“Take off your coat,” Kathleen said softly. “You’re not leaving tonight.”
Veronica’s eyes filled, though no tears fell. She slipped her coat from her shoulders and hung it by the door. Kathleen stepped toward her and reached out, not to kiss her, but to take her hand.
They sat down together at the table, side by side, the weight of everything between them beginning to shift.
Kathleen turned to her. “One more thing. I hope you like chamomile tea.”
Veronica made a face. “I’ll learn to love it.”
“Good,” said Kathleen. “Now let’s get down to business. We have to work out who supplied Darlene with my research. If I can engineer a different species of plants and you can find anything or anyone, surely, we can work out between us who’s the culprit.”
Kathleen spread her notes on the dining table while Veronica opened her laptop beside her. “First off,” Kathleen said, “I did some investigating.The person we are after must understand complex science, or know what to look for. They need access to the lab and know Darlene enough to work with her. I made a list of surnames that started with W in the Institute. There were four: Edith Williams; Molly Woods (Admin); George Wainright and Ted Winters. After I crossed off Edith and Molly, I remember George’s wife, Eve. Though she’s not officially attached to the Institute, George had master key access. She’s also a trained scientist and her credentials are impressive.”
Veronica tapped her fingers on the table. “It fits, but does she have any ties to Darlene?”
“Not that I know of,” said Kathleen. “They’re chalk and cheese. Darlene is a socialite while Eve is an academic. And the Wainwrights are wealthy, so she wouldn’t need money.”
“Perhaps we should be searching back into Darlene’s past… I only investigated her second husband.” She pulled out the tape, fast forwarded it until she had the part she needed, then pressed play.
Darlene’s voice came on. “You’re spot on. I married a lecturer, if you can believe it. Alan taught biology at UVA. Ibaked, played hostess, and eventually realised I was dying of boredom.”
Veronica asked. “You left him?”
“I outgrew him. And I didn’t feel like spending the rest of my life grading papers and making lasagna for dinner guests who talked in circles.”
“Edith went to UVA where she became friends with Darlene. First husband was a biology lecturer there,” said Veronica, facing her laptop. “This’ll take a minute. The information we need isn’t exactly going to show up on a university alumni list or a Google search.”
Kathleen nodded slowly. “What are you thinking?”
Veronica slid a slim black device from her bag and plugged it into the laptop—something Kathleen didn’t recognise, but it blinked twice before disappearing into the casing. She watched as a cascade of command lines filled the screen. No browser tabs. No mouse clicks needed. It was pure code.
“What is that?” Kathleen asked.
“A scraper I built a few years ago,” Veronica replied without looking up. “It piggybacks off university systems and institutional archives. They’re too old and messy for most people to care about securing, but they’re a goldmine for background history: faculty rosters, publication lists, old emails, sometimes even digital card access records. As long as you know what you’re looking for.”
Kathleen stared at her. “You … get into places like that?”
“I told you,” Veronica said patiently, “I’m good at finding people. Even if they don’t want to be found.”
Kathleen didn’t speak, aware now of exactly how much power Veronica had and how casually she could access what others thought was buried.
The program continued running, lines of data flowing like water, and then it paused.
“There,” Veronica said. “The biology department. University of Virginia. I’m setting the time window between 1991 and 2005, and narrowing to the first name: Alan.”
She tapped a few more keys, eyes darting as several entries popped up—course listings, internal memos, faculty directories. Veronica clicked into one.
“Bingo. Here it is. Dr. Alan Winters, tenured in ‘92. Lectured in biology.” She gave a soft whistle. “Good God. Darlene was married to Ted’s father.”
She opened another window, ran a search for conference attendees and faculty family housing from the same time period. “Okay. Here’s confirmation. His wife is listed as Fay Darlene Winters. She was twenty-seven when they married.”
Kathleen stared. “That’s her.”
Veronica was already running a different query. “Now let’s look at state birth records.” Her fingers moved quickly, but her voice slowed. “Charlottesville, Virginia… if Ted is twenty-eight, he was born in ’97. We’ll check the twelve-month window either side.”
Kathleen sat forward, breath held.
Veronica muttered under her breath. “Come on…”
