“Give me the gist of the conversation.” She continued to pet Mac.
“I couldn’t distinguish anything from their voice. They used a device to disguise it.”
“Still try to remember the general cant of their speech and any words they liked to use. It might come in handy later.”
He nodded. He’d already made sure to set every detail to memory. “They said they want me by their side and that I need to stay focused and earn the right to survive the cleansing.”
“They used that word—cleansing?”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
He went through the conversation from the beginning, word for word.
“I don’t think they sent the sniper to help you focus,” Kadance said. “That sniper was a professional. They would’ve killed you if I hadn’t been there.”
“I think it’s all more complicated than they wanted to admit.”
“Let’s hear your theories,” she said.
“Let’s get out of here first.”
“No one followed us here. I’m positive.”
“Then how’d they know to call this random restaurant?”
“I think they followed us via cameras since we left the CDC. Security cameras, traffic cameras. There’s a security camera at the gas station across the street that I bet picks up part of the restaurant’s parking lot.”
Lyndon glanced around at the fence and cinder block back wall of the building.
“No one can see us here. If we take back roads out of town, they’ll lose us.” She picked up Mac and started toward the side of the building. “But you’re right—we should get going. This is probably going to be a long conversation.”
He stayed by her side.
She kept holding Mac and even set him in her lap behind the wheel. He wondered if she was wanting comfort for some reason. The thought struck him as bizarre.
She made several turns until they were on a little side road.
“How do you know where you’re going?” he asked.
“I’ve been through Atlanta a few times.”
“And that means you have every street memorized.”
“Enough of them.”
And the rest she was piecing together in her head. Impressive. Most people couldn’t navigate the town they lived in without their phones.
“Let’s hear your theories,” she said.
“I think it’s as we thought—my research started getting too close. Once they read what Dr. Grant leaked to them, they sent the sniper, then someone to toss my apartment, and when I still made it, they sent the anti-government militia group, figuring there was no way I’d get away from all of them.”
“So, why change to this new tack? Trying to make you focus and survive the cleansing by their side?”
“I think all of this goes back a lot further than I thought.”
“What do you mean?” She kept stroking Mac with one hand while she drove.
“Are you all right?”
She looked over at him. “What’re you talking about?”
He glanced down at Mac in her lap. “He’s comforting you.”
Her hand stopped and rested on Mac’s side. Mac looked up at her but stayed curled against her.
“It’s not comfortable for either of us,” he said. “But we should probably try to be open with each other. We need to understand where each other’s head is.”
She paused for several seconds. Finally, gaze still focused on the road, she said, “I didn’t think you’d try running from me.” Her tone was hard, but he saw something in her eyes, something . . . hurt.
“I just wanted to protect you. If you’re hurt because you got involved in this—” He stopped and looked out the side window.
They drove for a good mile before she spoke again. “I’m not used to it,” she said. “To someone trying to protect me.”
Surely, her upbringing had been all about pushing her, building her strength. And then her time as an agent was the same. And now, running from her family, from what they wanted her to become.
“I know you don’t need protecting,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do everything in my power to try.”
She glanced at him, just the flicker of her eyes, but for that brief instant, he saw actual emotion, though he couldn’t decipher it.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She nodded once, barely a movement. And she slowly resumed stroking Mac’s soft fur.
“What did you mean this goes back a lot further than you thought?” Her voice was back to the same clear tone as usual.
“I’m still working it all out. I prodded with a few careful questions. I think they knew my parents.”
twenty
“YOUR PARENTS DIED in the Congo, right?” Kadance asked. “You said when you were a kid, so like twenty years ago?”
“After my grandfather died, I went through all the letters my dad had sent him. He talked about a lot of things, but he’d mentioned they’d met a scientist studying Ebola. He was excited because he thought this person might actually find a cure.” Lyndon remembered that night when he found the letters. It’d been just after his grandfather had died. He’d had to move out of the house they lived in just a few days later. He’d stayed up for hours going through his grandfather’s things, trying to convince himself not to keep every last possession. He’d sat on his grandfather’s bed all night, reading the letters over and over, trying to pretend he still had a family. As he read about his parents’ work, he’d decided what he wanted to do with his life—find a cure.
“What makes you think it’s the same person?”
“The last letter my father had sent was scrawled and barely legible. He’d told my grandfather to move, someplace remote, and don’t tell anyone where we went. He’d begged him to keep me safe from the cleansing. When I first read that, I thought my dad had been delirious with the disease. Doctors Without Borders confirmed my parents had died very shortly after that letter was sent. But then this mastermind used that word in the same context.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just—” She stopped and looked over at him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doubting you. I doubted you about the TV flipping channels, but it’s pretty obvious this person has the ability to manipulate technology at a high level. I trust your assessment.” She turned back to the road.
He just looked at her for several seconds. Then he made himself go on. “My hypothesis is that my parents discovered this person wasn’t looking for a cure but had actually created Ebolavirus. My mother was brilliant in the lab. If she’d gotten a look at just one specimen, I’m sure she’d have figured it out.”
“Why would this person let your parents that close?”
“Again, just a hypothesis: this person recognized my parents’ skills, especially my mother’s, and tried to recruit them. When my parents refused, this person purposefully exposed them to the virus.”
Kadance raised her chin. “Tried to recruit them like they’re trying to recruit you now.”
“The logic fits. It gives us something to work with.”
“Based on all this information, what do you think is the next step?”
“I have a thought, but I want to be careful. We had almost no idea what to do next before that call. Was this mastermind planting ideas in my head to keep me running around their carefully constructed maze?”
“It was one word. You put all of that together based on one freaking word. No way did they plan on that. What’s your idea of what to do next?”
“Doctors Without Borders. Their US office is in New York. I figured I’d call and see if I can find someone who was over there around the same time as my parents.”
“Should I find a library so you can look up the number?”
“I know the number. I just need a phone.”
“How do you know the number?”
“I called them once before.”
She rolled her eyes. Then she asked, “Why’d you call them?”<
br />
“I thought about joining.”
“Do you still think about it?”
“It would be fulfilling, but I can’t stop my current work until it’s finished.” He owed it to his parents and to his grandfather.
She nodded.
After driving for a while, she pulled off at a tiny gas station in the middle of nowhere. It had an old pay phone attached to the worn wooden siding. While Kadance filled up the gas tank, Lyndon dialed.
He had to explain what he wanted to at least five different people.
In the little store, Kadance bought them each something to drink, including fresh water for Mac. She leaned against the wall next to the phone, and Mac noisily lapped water from his bowl.
Finally, Lyndon made it to someone who seemed to know what they were talking about and cared enough to go through the effort of sorting through files. The first several people had sounded like they didn’t believe him when he’d said his parents were with the organization and he wanted to meet someone who’d known and worked with them.
“Ah, here we go,” the woman on the phone said. “Congo.”
“Were there any other doctors over there at the same time?”
“A few. Let’s see . . .” Then she said, “But I can’t give you personal information on them. I can reach out to them with your information. Would that work?”
“I’m going to be traveling for the next while. I’ll be hard to get ahold of. Can you give me a name? I have my mother’s old address book, though she didn’t make notes about who anyone was—perhaps they’ll be in there.”
“Well . . . I suppose a name wouldn’t hurt. I have a Dr. Frank Pearce and a Dr. Patricia Stone.”
“Great. I’ll look them up. Were those the only doctors in the area at the time?”
“There were a couple more, but they’ve since passed.”
“Okay, thank you very much.”
“Good luck.”
He hung up the phone.
“Time to find a library with computers?” Kadance asked.
“Yes.”
Kadance picked up Mac’s bowl, and they headed to the car.
Shockingly, Kadance found a library within fifteen minutes. He was beyond impressed with her sense of direction and ability to read an area.
He looked up both of the names online. Dr. Patricia Stone didn’t pop up in any searches, but Dr. Frank Pearce, assuming he’d found the right one, was living in Knoxville, Tennessee.
“At least it’s north,” Kadance said as they got back in the car. “Same direction as DC.”
It was late in the evening by the time they made it to Knoxville. They decided to wait until morning, a reasonable hour, before showing up on the man’s doorstep. They had a good chance of the man not talking to them, perfect strangers knocking on his door—let alone if they showed up at ten o’clock at night.
They found a cheap motel not far from the interstate, but the only room left had a single queen bed. Kadance insisted it was fine, and Lyndon didn’t argue, though a part of him knew he should.
Mac followed Kadance into the room, and Lyndon closed and locked the door.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Lyndon said.
Kadance set her bag on the desk and looked down at the old shag carpet. “That is probably the most disgusting carpet I’ve ever seen. You’re not sleeping on that.”
“You really think I’m going to let you sleep on that?” Though he was sure she’d lived through conditions he could barely imagine.
“We’ll share the bed. It’s perfectly big enough, and we’re grown adults.” She turned and took her small toiletry bag out of her duffle.
She disappeared into the bathroom, and he heard as she started brushing her teeth.
He dropped his backpack on the floor and ran a hand through his hair. Mac jumped up on the bed, sat down, and looked at him. Lyndon wanted to snap, What do you want me to do? I’m trying my best.
Kadance came out of the bathroom. “All yours.”
He grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste out of his bag and went in to brush his teeth. When he came back out, Kadance had changed into her tank top and was brushing her hair. It shimmered like a black river down her back and over her chest. It reminded him of that time hiking in the woods at night and suddenly coming upon a stream. It was smooth and barely rippled along the bank. It reflected the black sky and glimmered with the light from the distant stars.
He forced his gaze away from her.
Mac was still watching him, but then he jumped from the end of the bed over to the dresser, found a spot behind the television, and curled up.
Lyndon glanced over at Kadance as she ran her fingers through her hair and shook it away from her face and off her shoulders. It brushed against the bare skin of her arms. It made Lyndon wonder what it would’ve been like to dip into that dark stream in the moonlight. With Kadance. Her dark eyes black in the lack of light, and shadows accentuating the perfect angles of her face. The water falling over her skin, making her clothes cling to her stunning figure . . .
He turned away and took a slow, deep breath.
He sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes and then socks. I can do this. He hadn’t let himself be involved with a woman in many years. He’d had times when it was difficult, but it’d never felt this overwhelming.
The mattress shifted as she climbed into the bed.
The bed he had to share with her.
“Anything you want to talk about first?” she asked. “Or are you okay going to sleep?”
He turned his head partway, not enough that he had to look at her. “Sleep. In the morning, perhaps you’ll help me plan out how to approach Dr. Pearce.”
“Sure.”
Rustling of sheets, likely as she lay down and got comfortable. “Looks like Mac found himself a spot.”
Lyndon glanced over to where he lay. A little of his orange fur stuck out from under the flat-screen television sitting on the dresser. Otherwise, he was hidden. Thanks for abandoning me. He’d hoped Mac would snuggle up next to Kadance like he usually seemed to, preferably between him and Kadance. “He can’t be comfortable over there. Want me to bring him over to you?” Lyndon twisted and looked at her and immediately wished he hadn’t. She lay on her hip partially turned toward him, and the blankets were down at her waist. All he could focus on was how her thin tank top clung to her curves. Please, Lord, give me strength.
“He always sleeps wherever he wants. He’ll come over if he wants more warmth.”
He nodded, set his glasses on the nightstand, clicked off the lamp, and made himself lie down.
In the distance, he could hear cars on the freeway, and lights from a passing car on the road occasionally slipped through the crack in the curtains and flashed across the ceiling.
He couldn’t get his breathing to calm. Warmth traveled through his body, and he struggled to contain what she made him feel.
But he only grew warmer.
She shifted, and the back of her hand rested on his arm. Her contact was like a live electrical wire. It shot energy through him.
His breathing increased. If she was paying any attention, she’d see his chest rising and falling rapidly. She would understand. And she’d be angry.
He closed his eyes and prayed for strength.
Then her hand shifted against his skin, only maybe half an inch, nothing at all. It was nothing to her, just the back of her hand, nothing even remotely intimate.
But it made passion race through him.
He pulled away from her and stood from the bed. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to calm himself down.
Her voice was just more than a whisper. “Another headache?”
He shook his head.
“Come talk to me.” Her voice was soft. It sounded intimate, but he knew she didn’t mean it that way—her tone was simply muted from sleep. The chemicals in his body were blazing out of control, making everything feel passionate.
“Lyndon?”
He couldn’t figure out what to say. He couldn’t think through his desire.
The sheets rustled, surely from her sitting up, and her voice was stronger. “Lyndon, are you all right?”
His body tightened as he ran his hands through his hair again. Finally, he made his voice work. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
Right, he had zero chance of lying to her. But he desperately didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. The thought was unbearable.
Her light steps padded the carpet.
She stopped next to him and rested her gentle fingers on his arm. Through the fog of chemicals in his body, her touch felt sensuous.
He pulled away and faced her. “Please don’t.”
Her delicate brows pulled together. “Don’t what?”
He couldn’t think of a good lie, and he couldn’t lie to her anyway.
A few seconds passed.
“I can’t sleep next to you,” he said.
“Why?”
“I’m attracted to you, Kadance.”
Her brows pulled together even more.
KADANCE DIDN’T HAVE A RESPONSE. Men had come on to her before, but this was different. It was Lyndon. Sure, he’d held her hand before, but she’d been convinced it didn’t really mean anything to him. More friendly than anything.
Finally, she said, “I don’t understand.”
“What do you mean you don’t understand?”
“I just didn’t think you worked that way.”
His expression hardened. “What does that mean?”
“You’re so scientific and logical, and you said you haven’t dated anyone in years. I thought you just didn’t feel that kind of passion.”
“I know I’m different, but I am human, Kadance.”
The anger in his voice and on his face hurt her much more than she was prepared for. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“Just what? Is this why you’re relaxed around me—because you think I’m some kind of eunuch?”
She had no response. Why was she so relaxed around him? “You’re my friend,” she said. “That’s why I’m relaxed around you.” Friend—he was her friend. Her throat started to tighten. She’d never had a real friend before. She’d thought James was, but that’d been a lie. Lyndon didn’t lie—he couldn’t lie.
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