The Broken Lake by Shelena Shorts Page A

reports indicate that his victim is now safe and has returned home, but one question still remains. What, exactly, is going on in this lab that would make someone desperate enough to kidnap an innocent girl and risk his life to obtain it?
    “In just a few moments, we are expected to hear from Weston Wilson III, the current owner and nephew of the legendary Dr. Oliver Thomas, a man remembered for his great contributions to blood research and new discoveries in that field.”
    Shortly afterward, Topper turned his head in acknowledgment and the camera shifted to a podium and microphone. It was a basic setup with nothing distracting. A plain gray backdrop read California Blood Research Lab in navy blue lettering, and nothing else. All eyes would certainly be on the speaker who, I cringed at the thought, would be Wes. After what seemed like the longest amount of time, a door to the right of the platform opened. Filing onto the raised landing were two older men wearing white lab coats with pocket protectors. Following were three younger men in lab coats, then finally Wes, also in a lab coat.
    Shockingly, he looked mature and professional—
and
nerdy. His hair was doing some crazy parted-on-one-side thing and was brushed forward a little, and his perfect face was hidden behind a pair of rectangular black-framed glasses. I almost laughed out loud, but I was too intrigued and mesmerized by the images on the screen. He was perfect. It was still clearly him to anyone who knew him, and not so shockingly different that his friends would question his motives. They might pick on him for turning into a medical nerd, but nothing here was too different to raise an alarm.
    “Ah, look at him. He looks so professional.” My mom beamed at him like she was admiring her child at an elementary school play.
    “He certainly does,” Tom added. “All the weight he’s carrying, he must be sweating bullets.”
    No, Wes doesn’t sweat, but I wasn’t about to fill him in on that.
    “No, Tom, I think Sophie is doing enough sweating for him. Look at her. She’s so nervous. Don’t worry, honey. He’ll do fine.”
    I took a deep breath, eyes fixated on the screen. The first five men walked to the far side of the platform, standing with their arms at their sides. As soon as their gazes shifted to Wes, I knew it was coming.
    Unlike them, he strode to the podium. Cameras started flashing like crazy. He cleared his throat, and softly, in a steady voice, he began, not quite making eye contact with the camera, but rather looking at people throughout the room.
    “Thank you all for coming. This has been an odd few days for me and quite an ordeal for other innocent people. I want to first apologize for any hurt that recent events have caused anyone. When my uncle began his research, he had only the best of intentions, to end suffering. It would sadden him to know that his work caused someone harm.
    “Unfortunately, there have been rumors that our lab is conducting experiments and hiding groundbreaking results from the public. This speculation led a desperate man to seek something he could not find.
    “I can assure you that this lab is working every day to find what Mr. Walters was looking for, but I can personally tell you it does not yet exist. We are close to finding cures for many ailments and will guarantee that as soon as we have anything substantially beneficial, the public will know. It is what my uncle lived for. Thank you.”
    As soon as he finished, questions began flying in from every direction. “Mr. Wilson, is it true Mr. Walters blackmailed you? Is it true he killed himself with alligator blood? Is there any merit to alligator blood in medicine? What does it heal? Did it kill him?”
    Wes waited patiently for the barrage of questions to end. “You all have very good questions. Unfortunately, I am not the person to answer them. I am proud to support and carry on something my father and uncle began, but I will have to defer to the