Raynes’ expression remained calm. His eyes, however, betrayed his troubled thoughts. Seeing this, Walter’s concern grew.
This goes beyond your own personal failings, you selfish twit, he scolded himself.
Silently, he surveyed the expressions of the others gathered in the room. From what he could see, only he, Harrison, and Raynes seemed to be as deeply affected by the news.
Not Raynes . . .
He was not sure whether he was influenced by his respect and admiration for the man, but Walter could not believe that Raynes was capable of the same kind of lapse in moral judgment that he had suffered. It did not feel right. Raynes’ source of worry came from some other source.
Harrison, though . . .
Walter had no trouble at all believing that Harrison might have engaged in such an act—if not several times. Even though Harrison was divorced—three times over, if Walter had understood the rumors correctly—Walter suspected that any of Harrison’s acts of infidelity were likely not the chief cause of those dissolved marriages. Walter found it curious, though, that Harrison had not seemed to react until the man’s image was shown.
Of course, I wasn’t really paying any attention to him before that, Walter concluded. Giving another moment’s consideration, he finally decided that it was really was not any of his business.
“Perhaps,” Raynes agreed with the unidentified speaker, his voice soft and thoughtful.
He paused a moment before continuing. Walter wished, for far from the first time, that he could have a peek into the incredible man’s mind.
“In any event,” he went on, his tone rising with it accustomed confidence. “We know now who—or what—we’re looking for.”
“How does that help us, exactly,” a sharp male voice interjected. Walter turned to see that it was Dawson. “If it’s a metamorph, then it might look like anyone.” Dawson’s eyes swept across those seated around the table. “Even someone here.”
“Not likely,” Raynes responded with firm assurance. “Everyone here right now has DNA on record,” he reminded the barely post-pubescent hero. “There are no matches.”
“But—“
“Everyone,” Raynes interrupted the young man’s outburst, “will, of course, be screened again in light of this new information.” He straightened, his eyes looking out among the small crowd. “All locations are now under mandatory lockdown until the screenings are completed.”
Although his tone and expression were apologetic, Walter felt the firm resolve behind it.
“I’m afraid we have no other information at this time,” he added, closing his tablet and shutting off the floating display. “So,” he concluded, “if there are no other questions, let’s get this started and over with.”
Walter looked down toward the table top as Raynes turned and stepped away from his spot at its head. Because of that, he was surprised when Raynes’ voice came quietly from behind him.
“Walter,” Raynes said. “If you could spare a few moments?”
He gestured toward the door that led toward his office.
Walter’s stomach tightened into a sharp-edged knot. His face prickled with sudden warmth.
He knows . . . Walter tried to suppress a deep, resigned sigh. He knows.
“Of course,” he answered.
His voice was barely above a whisper. He was not sure whether or not Raynes had heard him, but Raynes turned and headed toward the door, clearly expecting Walter to follow him.
Walter rose from his chair, having to slide past only one other hero in order to follow Raynes. The room was emptying quickly as people sought other venues in which to continue their discussions.
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