The Forgotten

by Heather Graham

  “A hundred soldiers heard that shot and will be out here in about two minutes,” Lara said.

  Ignoring her, he said, “And then there’s Meg. She can’t see me, but I bet she can hear me.” He raised his voice. “You can hear me, can’t you, Meg? I can pop a dart into you any time I want, and it won’t be a small dose.”

  “Lara, don’t!” Meg warned. “Don’t do anything he wants—he’ll just kill us both anyway.”

  Lara stood, her legs shaky, her hands trembling. She knew that these people had no problem killing, but she needed to help Adrianna.

  She walked around the bend in the trail to the platform. She couldn’t see the man who’d been talking to her, and she didn’t have time to waste looking. She dived into the water, found Adrianna’s body and she dragged her back to the platform.

  “Now, Meg,” the man said, “I have you in my sights. Help Lara get Adrianna out of the water. Oh, throw down that gun first.”

  “Like hell I wi—” Meg began.

  Something whistled through the trees.

  Meg ducked, and the dart went past her and dropped into the water.

  “Toss the gun!” he said.

  “Do it, Meg,” Lara pleaded.

  Meg, stony faced, looked at her. And dropped her Glock by her feet.

  “Oh, no. That’s not good enough. Kick the gun away from you.”

  Lara met Meg’s eyes and could tell she didn’t want to do it. But whoever was watching them was calling the shots.

  She thought that she could hear Meg’s voice in her mind.

  We’ve gotten out of messes like this before. We’ll get out again.

  “Do it, Meg,” Lara pleaded. “Kick it away.”

  Meg did. Then she reached down and helped Lara get Adrianna onto the dock.

  Lara dared to look back. Help was nowhere in sight. How had they missed the shot from Meg’s Glock?

  The music. It was the music.

  “Meg, Adrianna needs help—now!” They bent over the woman together, Meg counting and Lara trying to breathe life into Adrianna’s lungs.

  “It’s time to go,” the voice said.

  “Go where?” Meg demanded tersely.

  “Ten steps, other side of this little sandbar.”

  Lara was sure she knew that voice, and she tried to place it. There was something so familiar about it, and yet...different.

  “I’m not sure Adrianna is okay yet,” Lara said between breaths. “God only knows what you pumped into her.”

  “Not enough to kill her, though perhaps the water took care of that.”

  At that exact moment, Adrianna coughed.

  “Come—now! Or she’ll be dragged into this, too.”

  Lara looked at Meg. Neither of them moved.

  “I can down you both in two seconds.”

  “Then, do it. You’re planning on killing us anyway,” Meg said.

  “Don’t you want to buy time?”

  “Yes, we’ll buy time,” Lara said, looking at Meg and then nodding meaningfully at Adrianna, who was sputtering but breathing.

  If she regained full consciousness, the killer would undoubtedly carry out his threat, and then she would end up dead, too.

  “Do you want me to shoot her after you went to all that trouble to save her?” the man asked.

  Lara stepped over the platform and started across the little sandbar. Meg followed her.

  A small boat with three occupants was waiting on the other side. A fourth man was waiting to hop aboard. He had to be the man who’d been watching. Threatening them.

  She saw who it was. And she knew him. But she didn’t understand why he was involved.

  Life—and apparently death—could be deceiving.

  * * *

  “They were all at the hospital? Ely Taggerly, Grant Blackwood and Mason Martinez?” Brett said, heading out to the car.

  “Taggerly was there to visit an employee, a man named Jackson Baum. Martinez was visiting a sick sister. And Blackwood was having some tests done,” Matt said. “We have officers tracking down both patients now, making sure the men actually visited them, and we’re verifying that Blackwood did indeed get those tests. And,” he added, “I’ve already sent officers out to Sea Life. But—”

  “We have to go,” Brett said. “We need to get there. Whether or not they’re guilty, all of those men are there. Now. And while the doll may have been a vindictive prank, someone may still want Lara dead for her part in retrieving those body parts.” He was already striding down the hall toward the exit.

  As they hurried out of the building, Matt said, “Meg is there, and she’s a great agent.”

  Brett nodded distractedly. “Money. I did say whoever was behind this had to be someone with money.”

  “We’ll get there, but let’s stay grounded. This isn’t proof that any of those men are guilty,” Diego reminded him. “This just tells us that they were at the hospital the day Randy Nicholson died.”

  They’d reached the car. Brett had his phone out, trying to reach Lara.

  No answer.

  “Give me the keys, amigo,” Diego said.

  Brett tossed them over; Diego was an ace driver, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on the road. “Lara isn’t answering,” he said.

  Matt frowned, sliding into the backseat, his phone out, as well. After a minute he frowned. “Meg’s not picking up, either.”

  “They had their big event for the vets today,” Diego said. “They’re probably just busy. They probably can’t even hear their phones.”

  Brett glanced at his watch. “It should be over. It’s after five.” He looked at the other two men. “Taggerly is old and runs a drug company. Martinez has focused his entire business on getting people to lead healthful lives. And Blackwood...”

  “Is a rich asshole,” Diego said.

  “You think one of them is hooked up with the Barillo crime family?” Matt said, his tone skeptical.

  “This could have created all kinds of strange bedfellows,” Brett said. “In the meantime, we’ve got to reach someone there. We have to find out what’s going on.”

  “Try the main number,” Diego suggested.

  “That will probably get us some kid in the gift shop,” Brett said.

  “I’ll call Grady,” Matt told them. “I got his cell number from Adam before I came down here.”

  Matt made the call, and Brett did his best to listen to the conversation. He could hear distant noise coming from Matt’s phone—music, he realized, and it must be loud if he could hear it over the phone—but he couldn’t make out what Grady was saying.

  “Good to hear it went so well,” Matt said. “Listen, Grady, we need to make sure everyone there is safe.” A second later, he said, “Yes, yes, there are police cars on the way.” There was more noise from the other end. “Grady, listen to me. Are your sponsors still there? The big-money guys?” He put his hand over the phone and said, “They’re still around somewhere. He’s asking Sonia Larson if she’s seen them.”

  They were already on the causeway, and Diego was sliding around other cars with ease, definitely ignoring the speed limit.

  Brett couldn’t tamp down the sense of deep unease that filled him.

  Nothing had changed except that now he knew those men had been at the hospital. And he was certain that the “zombie” experiments had begun because someone was looking for a cure, someone who had connected with one of the higher-ups in the Barillo empire. Someone with money.

  And Lara wasn’t answering her phone.

  “Ask him about Lara,” Brett said. “And Meg.”

  Matt did, telling Grady that both women had gone down to the back lagoon and why, and that they might still be there.

  “Grady says that the cops have arriv
ed and told him they’re checking out the place for safety.”

  “Tell him to get the cops down to that lagoon now,” Brett said. “They’re at the far lagoon? No one can see them there, right?”

  “Grady,” Matt said, “this is important. Ask the cops to head straight to the back lagoon and make sure everyone out there is fine. We’ll be there in a matter of minutes. Get one of them to call Brett or me right away. Thanks, Grady.”

  There was a knot in the pit of Brett’s stomach as Matt rang off. Something was wrong; he could feel it.

  He was pretty sure that Matt did, too.

  “One of those bastards is in with the Barillo family,” Brett said. “The real family. He’s promised to cure Anthony Barillo.”

  “We can’t know that. Not just from a hospital visit,” Matt said.

  “We’re there,” Diego announced.

  He’d barely said the words before Brett was out of the car, running toward the gate. As he ran, he heard sirens in the background.

  The entry through the gift shop was still open; he burst through it.

  The Navy anthem was playing as he tore through the store and ran straight to the path out to the lagoon.

  When he got there, he found utter chaos, cops on walkie-talkies, people milling around. Brett reached the first cop. “What’s going on?” he demanded, flashing his badge.

  “An ambulance is coming. There are two people out by the lagoon.”

  “Women?”

  “A man and a woman. He got a good bash on the head, possible skull fracture. We’re not sure about the woman.”

  “What about Lara and Meg?” Brett asked, then realized this man wouldn’t have any idea who he meant. He started running again, his steps crunching on the gravel of the path until he reached the long dock that led out to the sandbar island at the far lagoon.

  Matt and Diego were right behind him when he got there. Grady and a cop were kneeling down beside a body. He quickly realized that the body was Dr. Amory.

  Grady looked up at him, his features solemn. “Someone hit him. Hard. And Adrianna... She’s breathing, but barely moving, just staring at the sky.”

  “Lara?” Brett said. “Lara and Meg?”

  “I don’t know,” Grady said. “I just don’t know.”

  Paramedics were running down the path toward them, carrying stretchers.

  “The woman on the dock has probably been injected with puffer fish poison,” Brett told them, fighting to control his panic.

  Where the hell were Meg and Lara?

  He knew the answer right away.

  Because he saw Miguel Gomez. The ghost was walking up and down by the platform, pointing.

  Pointing out to sea.

  A boat. The place had always been vulnerable from the bay.

  “We need the Coast Guard,” Matt said.

  “I’m getting Lieutenant Gunderson. This is his area,” Diego said.

  Brett couldn’t wait for the Coast Guard. “Grady, you’ve got a boat?”

  “Yeah, a little Donzi.”

  “Speedboat? Perfect. Where?” Brett asked.

  “There’s a small dock on the other side of the lockers,” Grady said. He pulled a massive ring of keys from his pocket. “It’s this one,” he said, and handed the whole thing to Brett.

  “I’m going with you,” Matt said, turning to Diego with a question in his eyes.

  “I’ll handle things here and come with the Coast Guard,” Diego said. “Who the hell are we after?”

  Brett looked quickly at Grady. “Who was with you at the end, Grady? More important, who wasn’t?”

  Grady appeared surprised. But even as he gave his answer, Brett turned to run for the Donzi. He was surprised; the answer hadn’t been who he had expected.

  * * *

  The boat was a twenty-five-footer with a small cabin holding a tiny kitchen, horseshoe table and sofa.

  Lara and Meg found themselves seated at the table while the vessel sped away from the dock. It was surprisingly fast, but she supposed she should have expected that.

  Grant Blackwood could afford anything he wanted.

  She hadn’t recognized his voice because the Southern charm had disappeared when he’d spoken to them at the dock; there had been no trace of his liquid accent. And when they’d gotten on the boat he’d produced a gun with a massive silencer, and he kept it pointed at them now, smiling all the while.

  “Good thing you decided to come along. Unlike your Dr. Amory. Decent guy, even if he didn’t accept Ely Taggerly’s offer. He was a smart man, and he could have gone far with us. I didn’t mean to hit him so hard. And Adrianna... Well, I’d have killed her without much regret. She was no one to me.”

  “So why haven’t you just shot us?” Meg asked him.

  “Because I have something else in mind. Poetic justice of a sort,” he said, then turned to Lara. “I am sorry about this, but, Lara... You and that damned dolphin. You just had to find those body parts and bring down the whole FBI. Well, I’m sorry, but yours are going to be the next ones they find. You found the dead in the water? Now you’ll be the dead in the water.”

  Another man—one of the crew who had manned the boat while Blackwood cracked Dr. Amory’s skull and poisoned Adrianna—came down to the cabin. He was about forty, Lara thought, Hispanic, medium build, with dark eyes and hair.

  “You’re a Barillo, aren’t you?” she asked. “You look like your father. I’ve seen his picture in the paper.”

  The man looked at Blackwood. “She knows.”

  “You know, sometimes you’re an idiot. She doesn’t know anything—or didn’t, till you confirmed her suspicion. It’s a good thing it doesn’t matter anymore, isn’t it?” Blackwood asked.

  “Tomas Barillo?” Meg asked.

  “The same, chica,” he told her, sweeping into a bow. He looked at Blackwood. “She’s FBI. Talk about being an idiot. The FBI will never let this go, not once you kill one of their own.”

  “The FBI can chase their tails forever, just like they’ve been doing all along. Once they lose cadaver girl here, they’ll have nothing,” Blackwood said. He slid next to Lara on the seat and laughed. “Such revulsion! Not all that much different from the look you gave me at the party when I asked you to take a walk, huh, little girl? Leave it to Sonia to let me know about Special Agent Cody. I wouldn’t have killed you for that, though. But you just had to keep finding evidence. All those body parts...”

  “I had to keep finding them because you kept providing them,” Lara said, surprised that she could talk, stunned that she wasn’t terrified. She was going to be killed. And Meg—who was powerless because she had asked her to drop her gun—was going to die with her.

  She looked at her friend. Meg wasn’t betraying fear. She wouldn’t, either.

  Meg was looking at Tomas Barillo. “I understand what you’re trying to do,” she said. “Your brother Anthony is dying of some neurological disease, and you’re trying to find a cure.”

  Tomas lowered his head, grinning. “You think I did this to save my brother?” he asked. “Yes, I need to keep him alive. But just barely. I need people to see him and think that he is alive and well.”

  “A puppet figurehead, while you take over his empire?” Lara asked.

  “Bingo,” Tomas said. “Lovely and smart. What a waste. We could play awhile, you know, Blackwood.”

  “No. No time for play,” Blackwood said. “Stop letting the little head rule the big one.”

  “Why are you part of this?” Lara asked Blackwood. She really did want to know. She also realized they were about to kill her and Meg, and it wouldn’t hurt to play for time. “You’re rich as Midas, and you earned all your money legitimately. You have everything.”

  Barillo started to laugh. “Everything? Let me tell you somet
hing. My partner here, Mr. Grant Blackwood, has been diagnosed with a neurological disease that will first steal his muscles, and then his organs, and then...he will die like men die from puffer fish poison. He will know that he is wasting away, that he will be nothing but a lump of meat.”

  “Shut up, you mongrel bastard!” Blackwood said. “Let’s do this! Ladies, get up and out on deck.”

  “Why should we make it easy for you?” Meg demanded, staying where she was.

  “Let’s see. I can drop you into the water to drown whole, or I can blow up your kneecaps first. Maybe the sharks will eat you before you have time to drown. I don’t care which. Your choice.”

  Meg looked at Lara, and Lara could read her mind.

  Do what he says. Every second of life buys us more opportunity to escape.

  Lara rose and pretended to catch her suit on the table.

  “Move!” Barillo said.

  “I’m trying!” she said.

  He ushered them both up on deck. There was a third man there—he’d been captaining the vessel.

  They hadn’t come as far as she had expected.

  Lara could see other boats closer to shore and, in the distance, downtown Miami. Sea Life wasn’t all that many miles behind them.

  It wouldn’t be an easy swim, but if he just threw them over the side...

  “Get the rope,” Blackwood commanded Barillo.

  Barillo swore in Spanish but didn’t move.

  “We’re going to hog-tie you, little ladies,” Blackwood said, his accent suddenly heavy again. “Hog-tie you and leave you to the water until you’re nothing but bones.” He looked over to his partner. “Damn you, Barillo, get the rope!”

  “Get your own damned rope,” Barillo said.

  The two men were facing one another, testosterone blazing. Lara was closest to Blackwood, and as far as she knew, Barillo wasn’t armed.

  She didn’t really know what she was doing, but she also knew that they didn’t have any choice but to take this one chance. Hog-tied, they would die.