Chapter 1

Prologue 

Being the Invisible Woman isn’t such a bad thing. I’ve been invisible all my life—metaphorically speaking. Now, I am the literal Invisible Woman.

It’s easy to fade into the background if you’re average. I was average in almost everything except my giant brain. I don’t say that as a braggart; it was simply a fact. I liked being average. I had a few friends. It wasn’t like the popular kids ostracized me. Mostly, they ignored me.

Unfortunately, people notice you if you’re on the fringes, so I politely declined to be the valedictorian. My friend, Annalise, wasn’t average and got picked on all the time. If you weren’t one of the beautiful people, but you also weren’t what society deemed ugly, life was bearable. Unfortunately, Annalise had scars from the fire that burned the entire left side of her body, including part of her face. She was on the fringe and scorned for something she had no control over. In fact, most ostracized people don’t have control over the reasons for banishment.

Annalise could have easily hidden the scars on her face with her hair, but that wasn’t Annalise. She preferred a close cropping of her hair, signaling to the world she wasn’t afraid of being labeled a lesbian. With her shaved sides, even though the scars on her jawline were visible, they didn’t detract from her good looks in my opinion. Her arm and hand had taken the brunt of the fire and attracted the most attention, especially during gym class.

I became a scientist because I was determined to find a miracle cure for her scars. Practicality led me to forensic science, specializing in skin. Looking at the skin can tell a person a lot about the cause of death, the identity of the victim, and sometimes, when we’re lucky, who is responsible for the homicide.

Annalise overcame all the obstacles and became an FBI agent. I think she enjoys unraveling puzzles, even though she’s never been able to unravel the mystery of who started the fire that caused her scars. She’s had to overcome all the rash judgments from others regarding her looks and almost didn’t make it into the FBI, but Annalise is strong. Her perseverance is legendary. She says the same thing about me. I suppose she’s right because, eventually, I found something that completely removed all her scars. And that is where our story begins.

They say most scientific breakthroughs are part tenacity and a healthy dose of old-fashioned luck. I quite literally stumbled on my discovery. I never dreamed of making a mark on the world like Annalise, so maybe that’s another reason we kept the discovery hidden.

I wouldn’t exactly say I’m an unlikely superhero because don’t a lot of them tend to originate from outcasts and geeks? Most would undoubtedly consider me a geek, but transforming from average to exceptional seems a stretch. Annalise insists I was never average. We disagree on that point, which isn’t unusual because, despite our affection for one another, we are very different people. Annalise believes in soul mates and love. I believe in science. But you aren’t interested in our differences; you want to hear our story. It all started with the strange purple pod that literally glowed at night.

 Chapter One

“What are you still doing here, Doctor T?” my assistant Reggie asked.

“Psychotic killer still on the loose. Every minute counts, Reggie. I’ve been experimenting with a new chemical substance that might be able to lift prints on a badly decomposed body. I wanted to treat the tissues with my cocktail and see what happened. Why are you still here? I told you I didn’t need you anymore tonight. I understand it is common for people to have dates on Friday night.”

Reggie chuckled. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, of course. I am always happy to explain the science behind what we do. I’d like to think that being my assistant provides you the opportunity to learn and grow. Forensic science is an exciting field.”

“It’s not about work. It’s about Agent Taylor.”

I could almost feel my face contort in confusion. “Agent Taylor?”

“Yeah. Is she seeing anyone?” Reggie asked. “I know I’m no prize, but Annalise is nice, and that’s all that should matter, anyway. She’s also wicked good at her job, and that’s incredibly sexy. Not everyone can be a beauty queen. I just think that maybe I’d have a shot because, you know…” Reggie’s voice trailed off.

“You aren’t suggesting that because Annalise still has visible scars that makes her less desirable?” My voice held a warning edge.

“No, no, sorry, Doctor T. I barely even notice them anymore. They seem to be less prominent. I’d like to ask her out, but I don’t know if she’d say yes or no.” Reggie stumbled over her words as her face flushed.

I tended not to feel comfortable with conversations in the workplace that weren’t directly related to work. Still, my discomfort seemed unrelated to Reggie’s line of inquiry, and I couldn’t figure out why. Fortunately, I didn’t need to analyze this too closely or answer Reggie because Annalise barged into the lab and interrupted our conversation.

“Tamara, come on, let’s go. It’s Friday night, and we have a Marvel movie marathon to get to,” Annalise blurted. Her eyes turned to Reggie. “Oh, hey, Reggie. How come you’re still here?” She jerked her head to me and stated, “This one spending her life in the lab is typical, but surely you have somewhere better to be on a Friday night.”

Reggie blushed and stammered, “No, not really. My social calendar isn’t exactly bustling with activity.”

“Well, you could join Tamara and me if you want. We’re just going to order pizza and watch a few movies,” Annalise offered with a smile.

Something foreign bubbled up inside of me. At the time, I thought it had something to do with how insensitive Reggie’s comments about Annalise’s scars had been, but it was something far more unexpected. Whatever it was must have shown on my face because Reggie’s eyes widened before politely declining the invitation.

“No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude. Maybe another time?” Reggie asked hopefully.

Annalise shifted her eyes between us, and a wrinkle formed on her forehead. “Okay. Did I interrupt something here?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but Reggie was already heading to the door, waving and denying our previous conversation. “No, I’m honestly a little tired.”

As soon as she left, Annalise asked, “What the hell was that all about?”

“Reggie wants to ask you out,” I answered.

Annalise’s mouth curled up on one side. “Really? Hmm, I never would have guessed that. She’s nice but not really my type.”

“You don’t have a type. But that’s good because I don’t think you and Reggie should start seeing one another.”

“I do too, have a type. Just because I haven’t been ready to date again doesn’t mean I don’t have a type. I’m waiting until you find the miracle cream to eliminate all my scars, and then watch out, because I’ll sow my wild oats like a freshman in college away for the first time.” Annalise slung her arm around my shoulder. “After I’m done getting that out of my system, I’ll force you to go out with me, and we’ll fall madly in love, proving that love is not simply a chemical reaction resulting in an increase of endorphins.”

“The notion of love is as silly as any organized religion that assigns an idol-like status to something a person cannot see, hear or touch.” The familiar argument settled me. I knew what her next dispute would be, and the customary response further mended whatever was causing so much distress.

“Atoms can’t be seen, yet scientists acknowledge their existence,” Annalise argued as her arm dropped from my shoulder, and I felt the absence of her touch.

I chuckled. “Stop teasing me with the same argument. You know I can see atoms through an electron microscope.” I began organizing my space, readying the lab to lock up and leave.

Annalise leaned casually against the table. “And you know scientists didn’t always know they existed. Perhaps science has to catch up to religion. Never say never. Also, what about dark matter? Most scientists believe it exists but have never seen it.”

After Reggie’s earlier comment insinuating that Annalise had an inferior appearance, I studied my best friend. Objectively, Annalise had above-average looks, exceptional in some ways. Her dark, thick, slightly wavy hair would look good in any style, despite how she preferred it on the shorter side. A strong jawline and prominent cheekbones gave her a slightly masculine appearance that caught the attention of many young women on the rare occasions we would visit a gay bar, especially in a darkened room where her scars were less visible. But the features that generally charmed most women were her smoky gray eyes and cocky half smile. If she had more of a feminine appearance, I might describe her lips as almost pouty. They were certainly plump enough to satisfy our modern notion of attractiveness.

Yes, without her scars, Annalise might be considered an apex predator at the top of the heap, able to attract any mate she desired. Although I’d finally grown out of that awkward stage and did all right attracting women, especially those who preferred a more delicate appearance, I was an objectively less striking individual. Whoever said blondes had more fun wasn’t scientifically accurate, even with my pale green eyes that many noted were particularly striking—probably due to the well-known fact that green was the rarest eye color. I mentally shook my head and returned to our debate.

“You’re just trying to get a rise out of me. Well, it won’t work.” I laughed at our familiar discourse.

“I didn’t have to try to get a rise out of you because you were already agitated. What’s got your panties in a twist?” Annalise arched her brow.

“You know I don’t wear panties. They’re an unnecessary garment with the items of clothing I tend to wear.” I grabbed my sling pack and headed for the door. “We’re watching the ones with strong female leads, right? How about Captain Marvel, Wakanda Forever, Black Widow, and finally, Thunderbolts?”

“Duh,” Annalise answered as she pushed off the table and followed me out of the lab. “Accept you forgot Captain Marvel II, and we have to watch them in order. Oh, oh, oh, what about all the Guardians of the Galaxy movies? They could be a whole other marathon. Never mind. Stop changing the subject. You know you can’t hurt my feelings, right? Let me guess, Reggie said something about my scars that you didn’t like. It can’t be that bad if she wants to date me. Nothing can compare to what everyone said in middle and high school. I’ve grown an exoskeleton that prevents harm no matter what anyone says or how they stare at me.”

“Exoskeletons are wearable structures that support and assist movement or augment the human body’s capabilities. They have nothing to do with how uninformed comments intended to hurt a person’s feelings affect an emotionally vulnerable person. If you were more logical with your arguments, I wouldn’t have to worry,” I countered rationally.

Annalise burst into laughter. “If I didn’t love you so much, I would take offense at what you just said. Forget it. I’m going to take it as a win that anyone wants to ask me out, regardless of whatever uninformed comment Reggie made.”

We walked to the parking lot and got into our respective cars, mine a practical hybrid, hers a gas-guzzling monster SUV—a Toyota Sequoia SR5, what Annalise called a quality car with an engine powerful enough for a truck. I never understood why she didn’t buy the truck with the same engine. It seemed more suited to her, but she insisted she didn’t want to be a walking, talking, lesbian stereotype. The RV I planned on buying after I retired got better gas mileage. A fact that didn’t seem to register with Annalise.

†

Annalise rested her long, lean form against her pride and joy, waiting in the extra paved space perpendicular to my driveway as I hit the remote to open my garage door. Her cocky smirk telegraphed her superiority at finding the fastest route and pushing the speed limit. I always groused about her knack of constantly wiggling out of those speeding tickets. Of course, having FBI credentials didn’t hurt. She could have easily opened the garage door and parked in her spot, but she wanted to goad me.

“Pizza should be here in about ten minutes,” I called out.

Annalise pushed away from her car and greeted me inside my garage. Her brow furrowed as she shook her head in rebuke. “You really shouldn’t order pizza while driving.”

“Says the woman born with a lead foot,” I parried, but with very little oomph. “I believe crashes related to distractions like texting make up thirteen percent of all motor vehicle accidents, while speeding is attributable to nearly one-third. You can lecture me all you want after you decide to drive the speed limit, Speed Racer.” The familiarity of our recycled arguments helped to settle me again.

I didn’t want to admit it, but the latest case had gotten to me. The body count was not only increasing, but the age of the victim seemed to decrease by one year with each new find. The last victim was two years younger than the previous one. Either the killer had slightly altered their pattern, or there was a missing body the FBI had yet to find. I believed it more likely they hadn’t found at least one of his victims. The press had dubbed him The Hunter because he strung up his victims, gutted and skinned them. The killer had removed the victim’s head, hands, and feet with precision, leaving what looked like slabs of meat attached to the tree with meat hooks. I’d yet to pull prints from the bodies, or rather skin, carefully hanging next to the body, meaning he’d probably used gloves. The forensic bone expert hadn’t found any useful clues either. The only significant clue I’d discovered was an anomaly in the skin. After comparing it to the place of the body where it was apparent he’d removed something from the deltoid muscle, I suggested it might be a tracking device. The killer was hunting his prey using technology to give him the upper hand.

Annalise must have noticed the lackadaisical way I engaged her in the debate. “The facts are all present, but where is the passion? What’s wrong?”

“Aren’t you going to put your car in the garage?”

Annalise shook her head. “I’ll do it later if I decide to crash here tonight,” she absently responded.

I raised an eyebrow because Annalise usually stayed at my place when we had our movie marathons. I decided not to comment, and she followed me into the house after I pushed the button to close the garage door. Tossing my keys into my junk drawer, I turned to face my best friend, who looked at me with concern. “You’re working The Hunter case. How do you do it? Remain unaffected,” I clarified.

Annalise gently grabbed my arm and led me to my couch. She took my hand and answered, “Don’t be so sure about that. Many things bother me, but I refuse to let the world see. I’ve been training all my life. Practically made it my own personal Olympic sport.”

I saw the tenseness around her eyes and wanted to jump into a time machine and rewind the entire conversation. “Oh, goddess, I’m sorry.”

Annalise smiled. “Forget about it. We’re going to catch this psycho. I’ve no doubt you’re going to help us with that. You always do.”

My doorbell penetrated the discomfort I’d created. “Saved by the bell. Pizza time. Can you find the streaming channel with the marathon?” I pointed to the remote.

She maneuvered her body to enable her to shove her hand in the front pocket of her pants, pulling out two twenties. “Here, for the pizza.”

I waved her away with my hand. “It’s my turn. You never remember.”

She shook her head and smiled. “Why fill my brain with unimportant details? I like to leave room for the critical facts.” Stuffing the bills back into her pants, she asked, “Beer, cider, wine, or soda? I assume you have all those choices for us.”

“Cider, please.”

After I’d answered the door, paid the young delivery woman, and set the pizza on the coffee table, Annalise pressed the button to start the marathon. We began our usual commentary as the first movie played, debating everything from the ridiculousness of their superhero costumes to the disappointment that so few Marvel movies featured queer characters.

I wasn’t sure what drew my eyes from the screen as we watched The Marvels. Perhaps it was the intensity of the light that I saw through my peripheral vision. I have excellent peripheral vision. But it wasn’t something I could ignore. Once something catches my curiosity, I can’t let go until I figure it out. I grabbed the remote and hit the pause button.

“Why did you do that? I’m still hoping Danvers and Rambeau will discover their love for one another,” Annalise joked. “Screw the bone they threw us with the Runaways television series. I want a lead lesbian character in one of these damn movies.”

I pointed to the glowing purple light barely visible through the window. “That’s freaky. I’m going to check it out.”

“Now?”

“You know I can’t just let that thing glow without discovering what it is.”

“I’m coming with. It could be radioactive or something. Then it’ll zap you and turn you into some kind of freak mutant. I’m not letting you have all the fun,” Annalise joked.

Before stepping outside, I rummaged around and found two sets of rubber gloves. Handing one pair to Annalise, we proceeded to my backyard and made a beeline to the soft glow. As we approached, the light began to pulsate and brighten. It appeared to originate from a small, round object about the size of an avocado pit. Donning my rubber gloves, I plucked the glowing item from the ground and placed it in my palm for inspection. It was dark out, and I could only see the pulsating light.

“What is that?” Annalise asked.

“No clue. I’m taking it back inside and examining it in my home lab. I’ll put it under my stereo microscope. I don’t want to do anything to harm it.”

“It sounds like you think it’s a living thing. I don’t think aliens are that small,” Annalise joked. “Maybe it’s only a body part, like an eye or something. The poor alien might be blind now.”

I bumped Annalise’s shoulder playfully. “Cut it out. It could be a living thing. Maybe part of a plant or something. In Idaho, this biotech firm inserted genes from this bioluminescent mushroom into a petunia to create a new glowing houseplant called the Firefly Petunia. But it has a green glow, not lavender. Maybe they’re expanding.”

“You’re pulling my leg,” Annalise argued as she leaned in for a better look at the apricot-sized object in my hand.

I mimicked crossing my heart with my free hand. “No. I swear it exists. I’ll order one, but right now, I can’t wait to see this specimen under my microscope.”

We hurried inside and rushed to my lab. Gently placing the glowing item under my scope, I adjusted one of my objective lenses and got my first look at the strange thing. “It’s some kind of pod with multiple seeds,” I exclaimed excitedly. “The membrane is translucent enough to see inside.”

“Maybe we should plant one seed. Then, when it grows a huge beanstalk, I can be the one to climb it and steal the golden goose.”

“Oh, I plan on growing these seeds. I’ll have to experiment with different soils and plant foods to determine exactly what my babies need to flourish.”

“Just don’t prick your finger and start feeding it blood. Never forget Little Shop of Horrors.” Annalise shuddered. “I refuse to capture a food source for a human Venus flytrap.”

“Why not? It might save the taxpayers a whole lot of money. We’d only feed it serial killers, not your run-of-the-mill robber,” I joked.

“Tempting, but no. Hey, are you going to tell anyone about your find?” Annalise asked.

“Nope. I’d rather wait and see if I can even get these seeds to grow. I’ll start with different mixtures of potting soil and compost. Boiling eggs will leave us with an empty egg carton,” I mumbled distractedly.

“I’ll get the potting soil and compost while you continue to examine your find,” Annalise offered.

“Can you grab my plant foods as well? I have all my gardening supplies in one section of my garage.”

“Of course you do,” Annalise teased.

As Annalise left to retrieve the items needed to grow whatever plants would emerge, I carefully sliced open the pod, revealing the tiny seeds, and changed to a more powerful objective lens to get a better look. The viscous liquid that spilled from inside the pod piqued my curiosity further. Close enough to detect an odor, I found the smell not at all unappealing. If a person combined honey, orange, vanilla, and pineapple in a blender, it might resemble the fragrance emanating from the liquid spreading slowly over the glass. I grabbed an eyedropper and quickly gathered my treasured finding, placing it inside a test tube for later examination.

Annalise sort of waddled into my lab, awkwardly carrying all the items I had requested. I chuckled as the various plant food and black plastic starter trays spilled onto an empty counter before she dumped the two bags of soil and compost.

“You could have made two trips, you know?” I shook my head at her.

“What’s the fun in that? I’m always up for a good challenge. I found these starter trays, so we won’t have to eat hard-boiled eggs for the next several days. You know how I hate eating the same foods every day.”

“Help me fill the trays with a variety of mixtures. We’ll start with all potting soil, decrease each by twenty percent, and fill the rest with compost. That will give us alternate 80/20, 60/40, 40/60, 20/80, and 100 percent compost mixtures to compare. We can add plant food to a couple to see how the seeds react but leave the rest alone.”

“Do you have enough seeds for that?” Annalise asked.

“Yes, there are plenty of seeds to use. I may even put a couple of seeds in each mixture.” I noticed a tiny droplet of purple liquid on my glove and frowned. Until I performed a few tests, I wasn’t about to let the foreign substance touch my skin.

“How will you remember the differences? Don’t you need to label them or something?”

“Nah, I’ll remember. Especially since I’m going to start a new notebook and detail my experiment for later use,” I explained.

“Hey, you got some of the alien goop on your glove. You know what it looks like?” Before I had a chance to answer, Annalise powered on. “Body fluids. You know, when the forensic geeks use their black lights, searching for blood and other stuff?” She reached out to touch the droplet on my glove.

I pushed her hand away. “Don’t touch that. It might be toxic. And don’t refer to the forensic scientists as geeks. You know I’m one of them.” I pulled off my glove, pushing it into a container designed specifically for toxic waste.

“Maybe it has special healing properties,” Annalise suggested.

“Or it could be corrosive. I’ll need to run it through a few tests before even thinking of applying it to animals or humans.”

Annalise scowled. “You mean use yourself as a guinea pig because I know you don’t use rats, bunnies, or other mammals in your lab experiments. It’s how you got that nasty rash when developing the cream for my scars. Promise me you won’t put that on your skin.”

“I promise to take reasonable precautions,” I answered. I was already thinking of ways to pilfer small skin samples from any fresh bodies the FBI encountered, since I was always the first to be called to the scene. Skin and bone cells didn’t die immediately, so I figured they’d be the perfect samples to test. As long as what I did would not compromise an investigation, what could it hurt? I quickly discarded that notion. It would be just as easy to scrape a sample of my skin onto a slide and see what happened when I added a droplet from my test tube with the viscous liquid I’d obtained from the pod.

Annalise helped me plant the strange seeds, and I put a grow light over half of the seed tray. After completing the task, we shuffled back to my living room and enjoyed a cold beverage, beer for her, and cider for me. Since it was so late, Annalise decided to crash at my place per usual. It wasn’t like she was impaired with one beer; I often wondered if she just didn’t enjoy spending the night alone. I almost asked why she was being so odd before when she said she might not stay, but I’m not the best at picking up on subtleties.