Devoted - Dean Koontz Page 0,21

everything, but the system worked.

Dorothy’s password was Lovearthur.

There was a separate file of videos. They were numbered.

Rosa clicked on the first one, and when it began to roll, she was surprised to see a healthier Dorothy than the woman she had more recently been caring for. Dorothy appeared as she had been maybe ten months or a year earlier, sitting behind her desk.

Directly addressing the camera, she said, “Rosa Rachel Leon, you precious girl, I was fortunate to find you in my hour of need, and not merely because you have been giving me excellent care. I’m fortunate also because you’re honest, ethical, and blessed with genuine sympathy, with humility in a world of pride and selfishness. Furthermore, you’re far more intelligent than you believe.”

A blush warmed Rosa’s face, as if she were receiving this praise in the company of the living woman, and tears formed again. She plucked a Kleenex from a box to blot away her blurred vision.

“Within forty-eight hours of my death, Roger Austin will come to see you. As you know, he’s my attorney. He will inform you that I have made you my sole heir.”

This was news to Rosa, and she found herself shaking her head as if this must be a dream, as if she must deny what Dorothy said in order to avoid bitter disappointment when she woke.

“The law forbids a caregiver in a hospice situation to inherit from a patient. That’s why, after five months in my employ, when I had come to know your heart, we changed your title to Executive Companion and did so with such ironclad legal process that my will can’t be undone. Anyway, I’ve no relative to contest it.”

Rosa found herself so nervous that she wanted to move, work off a sudden frantic energy. But she was so weak-kneed when she got up from the chair that her legs failed her. At once she sat down again.

“After taxes,” Dorothy continued, “you’ll receive this house and all its contents plus liquid assets in the amount of twelve million dollars.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Rosa declared, as if the woman on the screen could hear her and be persuaded. “I was only with you for eighteen months.”

Dorothy had paused in the video, as if she’d known Rosa would at this point talk back to her benefactor. Her smile was impish.

“How I wish I could be there to see you now, girl. I know you will feel overwhelmed, maybe even afraid at first. Fear not. Roger Austin and my accountant, Shiela Goldman, are good people. They will give you reliable investment advice. And in time, if I know you—and I do know you—you’ll grow wise enough to handle it all yourself.”

“Never,” Rosa said, with a tremor in her voice.

“Yes, you will,” Dorothy insisted with another smile. “And now to an even bigger surprise. Much bigger. Excuse a bit of crudity, child, but this one will knock you on your ass. Are you ready?”

“No.”

Her arms on the desk, leaning forward, closer to the camera, Dorothy lowered her voice and spoke with a profound seriousness that mesmerized Rosa. “You know Kipp is a smart dog. But he’s enormously smarter than you realize. He’s a mystery, a wonder—and out there in the world are others like him. They call themselves ‘the Mysterium.’ I can only assume he’s the product of genetic engineering. Somewhere in his lineage must be laboratory dogs that were products of radical experimentation and perhaps escaped. Dear Rosa, he is as intelligent as we are, and he is a treasure who must be protected. You must be his guardian now. And after you see the videos that follow, after you watch dear Kipp communicating with me using the alphabet on the study wall, you’ll not only believe me, but you will, I’m sure, feel that you’ve found your life’s calling.”

Rosa swiveled in the chair to look at the foot-high black letters on the farther wall.

Behind her, Dorothy said, “Since I was just a little girl, which was a very long time ago, I’ve had this strange feeling down in the deepest and most secret place in my heart. I think you’ve had the same strange feeling and, just like me, you’ve felt you’d be a fool to speak of it.”

A pleasant chill craped the nape of Rosa’s neck. She looked through the big windows at the descending forest, the lake beyond: a mystical scene in the waning light, the water like a mysterious loch in another land, where

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