Formula of Deception

by Carrie Stuart Parks

  “Murphy?” he whispered.

  She pushed to her knees and the room straightened. Her head rang from hitting the floor. Wait. Jake had hit her on the head. He tried to kill her, throw her out of an airplane. She waited until the flurry of thoughts settled, then got to her feet.

  Another vision crowded in. Had she really tried to kill him? “Joshua?”

  “It’s me, Murphy. Help me.”

  She had to get him to a hospital. Staggering over, she saw the handcuff. He was cuffed to a radiator. Her hand went to her side to retrieve the key.

  No duty belt. No key. She wasn’t a police officer anymore. Anymore? Who was she? Where was she? The room swirled.

  “Murphy, can you hear me?” Joshua’s face was gray.

  She was in a house in Kodiak. Not Anchorage. “Yes. I shot you. I thought you were—”

  “Don’t worry about it now. Do you have a cell phone?”

  “No.”

  “Get your gun. Shoot the links of the handcuff, then drive me to the hospital. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.”

  Her pistol lay where she’d dropped it. She picked it up, moved to his side, and fired at the links. They popped apart. She reached for him and helped him to his feet. Almost crumpling under his weight, she slowly helped him to her car. She started the engine and turned toward town. Joshua was barely conscious.

  “Joshua, I’m so sorry. I thought you were Hunter. I thought my sister . . . I’m so confused.”

  “Murphy, listen to me. The guy who lured me here—”

  “Wearing glasses, brown hair?”

  Joshua nodded.

  “Ryan Wallace. Works for the government.”

  “He set you up. He called me and said you needed help and would meet me at that house. When I arrived, he was waiting with a gun. He arranged the mattress, saying it would look like we were having an affair.”

  She felt her cheeks growing warm. She remembered the aspirin. “I wonder if he drugged me.”

  “He’s playing with your mind.”

  “He expected me to empty my magazine into you.”

  “But you didn’t, Murphy, remember that. Remember your name.”

  “Dakota Murphy Andersen.”

  “And what is today’s date?”

  She had to think about that question. “Um, June twelfth.”

  “Good,” he whispered. “Where are you?”

  “Bells Flats. Kodiak.”

  “And where are we going?”

  “To the hospital. Because I shot you. I thought you were someone else.”

  “Where do you live?”

  The road rippled in front of her. Different places flashed in her mind, images coming faster and faster. “I don’t know.”

  Her sweat made the steering wheel slippery, and she gripped it with white-knuckled intensity.

  “Keep talking to me, Murphy. Don’t lose yourself. Where did you go to school?”

  “Undergraduate at University of Washington, MFA at the Rhode Island School of Design, Rhodes Scholar,” she said automatically.

  “Rhodes Scholar?” He gave up a low chuckle. “Impressive. And before that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Where did you go to college before U of W?”

  She gripped the wheel even tighter. “AA in Law Enforcement from the University of Alaska–Southeast.”

  “Very good, Murphy. Now”—Joshua’s voice was barely a breath of air—“think about everything that happened since you graduated from the University of Alaska. Recall working as a patrol officer with the Anchorage Police Department. Remember everything since the night you found your sister’s body.” His head slumped against the door.

  CHAPTER 35

  Through blurry eyes, Murphy raced through the fog of downtown Kodiak to the hospital.

  She shook Joshua slightly. “Please don’t die. I didn’t mean to shoot you.”

  She slammed on the brakes in front of the emergency room, jumped from the car, and burst through the door. A startled nurse looked up from a clipboard.

  “Help me! Outside, he’s dying.” She tore back to the SUV and opened the passenger door. Joshua started to topple from the seat. She caught him but was shoved aside by a large male nurse.

  “We got this.” He eased Joshua onto a stretcher with the help of two other nurses. “Come inside and give us the information on this man, please.” His voice was firm.

  Surrounded by medical personnel, the gurney flew through the doors. Her last glimpse of Joshua was the top of his dark hair disappearing through an inner door.

  They would take about five seconds to agree he’d been shot. Less than a minute after that, someone would come looking for her.

  She bolted for the SUV and took off. She drove without lights until she was a block away from the hospital, then flipped them on.

  Adrenaline had flooded her system. Her heart raced. Her hands were numb and sweat soaked her bloody clothing. Where should she go? She’d probably killed Joshua. She was already wanted for car theft. Probably for planting the bomb in Father Ivanov’s car. And don’t forget the arson on her landlady. Denali had tried to kill her.

  And Ryan had set her up. He could have given her another car, but he wanted her to be found, to be arrested and charged with arson, murder, car theft, you name it. Why?

  The code. When she said she didn’t know the security code, she was no longer useful to him. Ryan’s chilling words came back to her. When my dog couldn’t work anymore, my dad shot him. He said when something’s no longer useful, it’s time to get rid of it.

  She slammed on the brakes, then quickly looked around to see if anybody had noticed. The street was deserted. The digital readout on the dash said 2:00 a.m. She had to find someplace to hide out before the sun came up, someplace to think about what Joshua said.

  Someplace to plan.

  She’d dropped the pistol when she helped Joshua to the car. Whatever she did, she’d have to find some way to protect herself. The house out on Pasagshak was a tempting refuge. She could shower, change clothes, think in silence, but over ten miles of exposure on a two-lane road would mean certain discovery.

  She realized she was driving on the road that led to the back side of Salmon Run Lodge and its private landing field. Airfield. Something tickled her mind. Something to do with the airfield. Certainly the dense foliage on the rutted road would hide this car. The police would be actively searching for her. Probably the state troopers as well. She’d bet Ryan called in gunshots in Bells Flats. Police and troopers would converge on that house soon if they hadn’t already.

  She passed the turnoff twice before finding it. Switching off the lights, she eased the SUV into the trees.

  In the distance, sirens screamed.

  She nudged the SUV faster into the underbrush, wincing at the cracking and scraping.

  The sirens approached.

  She slammed on the brakes, jammed the SUV into neutral, and turned the engine off.

  The police were almost there.

  She darted out and sprinted ahead.

  A patrol car roared past, lights flashing.

  At the edge of the airfield, she paused until she could stop shaking. Already a hint of dawn allowed her to see across the landing field to the hangar. Hangar. What did she know about it? Lucas had told her that Jake had an apartment in the hangar. That’s what she was trying to remember. And Jake wouldn’t be returning to the apartment any time soon. Or ever.

  But Ryan told her he killed Jake. How could she trust anything he said? He could be in league with both Jake and Denali to get the information about the biological weapon.

  She’d just have to assume everyone lied to her.

  The fog clung to the ground, looking like a giant brush had painted a layer of gouache over the landscape. The dampness wrapped around her. She trotted across the field, watching for any movement. More sirens wailed in the distance.

  If they found Elin’s car, they’d quickly find her. When she reached the hangar
, she circled it. On the far side, away from the path leading to the lodge, she found a series of windows and a door. The door was locked. Though the interior was dark, she could make out a kitchen and living area.

  If Ryan lied about murdering Jake, Denali’s half brother could be asleep in a bedroom.

  She moved from window to window, peering in. The last one in the row showed an empty bed.

  Did she really want to be cornered in Jake’s apartment?

  A dollop of rain struck her head and made up her mind. She’d have to seek cover.

  The rain increased as she ran to the open door of the hangar. She hoped Jake had left the inside door to his apartment unlocked.

  He had.

  Once inside the apartment, she locked the door and flipped on the lights. She’d have to find a flashlight and get rid of the overhead illumination, but first she needed to not crash into things. She quickly closed the window shades, then turned and examined the room. Several doors opened off the main living quarters. One led to a bathroom with a large mirror over the sink. She turned on the light, then darkened the rest of the apartment. The sliver of light under the bathroom door shouldn’t show from the outside with the shades drawn.

  Standing in front of the mirror, she stared into her eyes and whispered Joshua’s words. “Think about everything that happened since you graduated from the University of Alaska. Recall working as a patrol officer with the Anchorage Police Department. Remember everything since the night you found your sister’s body.”

  Screaming. There had been so much screaming.

  The officer yanked her to her feet and shook her, then slapped her.

  Murphy stopped yelling. Her legs gave way and she started to slump. He grabbed her before she fell and hustled her outside the house and onto the rotting porch.

  From a distance she heard him on the radio. “I just arrived at 225 Parker Lane. Officer down. Two down inside the house. Possible homicide. Adult victims are male and female. Possible gunshot wounds. Send crime-scene techs and roll medics.”

  She drifted on a blank void, drifting away . . .

  “Hey there, are you okay? That’s quite a cut.” A gentle hand lifted her face. “Can you tell me your name?”

  Murphy looked at the man and blinked with the one eye not stuck closed with blood.

  She was on her back, strapped down.

  “Poor kid. She doesn’t look old enough to be a cop.” A woman’s face appeared above her.

  Bertie’s face.

  Murphy shook her head violently and was rewarded with a shooting pain from her injuries. Bertie had been there when Murphy found her sister. Bertie had been the crime-scene technician.

  When she first met Bertie on Kodiak, Bertie would have recognized her immediately. Bertie had wanted her to come and work for the crime lab. Return to law enforcement. She’d offered to find out what happened to her sister. She’d bet what Bertie did instead was find out what happened to her after her sister died.

  “What did happen?” Murphy asked her reflection.

  Her eyes gazed back at her. Silly question. She’d gone back to college. Finished her degrees.

  “You’re skipping parts. What happened before that, and what happened to put you on Kodiak?”

  Her mind felt like Swiss cheese, with big holes of time missing.

  A voice came from outside the apartment. “Jake? Uncle Jake, are you here?”

  CHAPTER 36

  Murphy flipped off the bathroom lights.

  Outside, Lucas called again. “Uncle Jake?”

  Had Ryan told the truth? Was Jake currently floating somewhere in the frigid Gulf of Alaska? Or was Jake merely AWOL?

  The inside door to the hangar rattled. “Uncle Jake, please. Dad needs to talk to you.” His voice broke.

  Why was Lucas crying? Slipping from the bathroom, she raced to the outside door and let herself out. The rain had increased to a steady downpour, and the landscape was cloaked in gray. She pulled up the hood of her jacket and ducked into the woods.

  Now what? She was out of ideas.

  Something crashed through the brush, coming closer.

  She backed away, tripped, and fell.

  It was on her before she could stand, pinning her to the ground. Licking at her face.

  “Quinn, get off me, you oaf.” She shoved the enthusiastic Labrador away.

  “Murphy.” Lucas stood over her, the tears running down his face mixing with the rain. “Grandpa said you’d left. He said you’d caught a plane off the island and weren’t coming back.”

  She shivered. Denali had told his grandson the truth, just leaving out the little matter of a mid-ocean drop-off. “As you can see, I’m still here. Why are you crying, Lucas?”

  “Ryan has a gun on Grandpa and said he was going to kill him unless I bring Uncle Jake back.”

  “They’re at the lodge now?” She stood, bracing herself on the Lab’s rump.

  “Cemetery.” His voice was a squeak.

  “Come here.” She opened her arms.

  He flew into them, sobbing and clinging to her like a little boy. He was soaking wet and shaking with cold. “What am I gonna do? He’s all I have.”

  She held him until his sobs subsided. She had no doubt Ryan would follow through with his murderous intent. She could pretty well guess why Ryan needed Jake. Ryan must have figured out Leif’s code, or how to bypass any booby trap Leif may have left to protect his research. She figured the headstones were the hiding place, but if Leif placed anything under them, Ryan would need an able-bodied person to dig. Denali couldn’t from his wheelchair, and Lucas wasn’t strong enough.

  She needed some time, and someplace dry for both Lucas and herself. “Listen to me, Lucas. You need to go back to the cemetery and tell your grandfather and Ryan that Jake is on his way. Then you need to tell them that you need to put Quinn in the lodge. When you’re in the lodge, get on the phone—”

  “Ryan cut the phone lines. I saw him do it.”

  “Are there any cell—”

  “No.”

  “Can you drive a car?”

  “No.”

  She gnawed on her lip. “Sweetheart, I need to get you to safety. Come with me.” Lucas and Quinn trailed her across the field to where she’d left Elin’s car. She put the Lab and shivering Lucas in the back seat, then went to the rear of the SUV. Elin had a blanket and coat there. She brought the blanket to Lucas and wrapped him in it. “You need to stay here until I come back for you, do you understand?”

  He nodded.

  She returned to the rear and changed into the dry slacks, sweater, and vest Elin had in her go-to bag, pulling her raincoat over the whole thing. She waved at Lucas, then trotted across the airfield to the hangar. She’d have to hurry or Ryan would come looking for Lucas. In Jake’s apartment she found a pair of scissors, leather gloves, and a quart-sized measuring cup. She took the measuring cup to the fuel barrel near the plane and filled the container, then fueled the plane. Ready for a fast exit. Inside the plane’s cabin she located the braided twine that Jake had used to hold the burlap on her head. She cut it into two halves. One leather glove became a pouch, with holes poked in the side. She attached the twine on both sides of the pouch, tied a loop at one end of the twine, and fastened a handle on the other.

  If she had to fight Goliath, she needed David’s shepherd’s sling.

  On her way toward the cemetery, she collected a number of stones.

  She moved off the trail as she neared the graveyard and crept through the woods until she could see the iron fence surrounding the graves. Denali was alone just outside the fence.

  She ducked and searched the trees for Ryan.

  A slight movement in the periphery of her vision caught her attention. He stood opposite her, watching the trail.

  She melted back into the trees. The steady drum of the rain would hide the sound of her moving through the underbrush. She worked around through the densest brush until she was behind Ryan. Elin’s water-resistant clothing was most
ly soaked, and the air was cold. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

  Inching her way forward, she stayed low under the dark foliage until she could see the cemetery once more.

  Ryan had moved back to Denali, gun pressed to his head. “That grandson of yours had better get back here in the next few minutes or I’m going to start shooting. First your right arm. Then your left.” He shot into the air. “That should bring him running.”

  She clutched the nearby tree. No time.

  Ryan was turned away from her. She had one chance. She glided right, until she was clear of the trees and completely behind him. Taking out the sling, she placed a stone into the pouch and started spinning it over her head. Then she deliberately stepped on a stick.

  Snap.

  Ryan turned, raising the pistol.

  She let go of one side of the sling, sending the rock flying.

  The stone struck Ryan in the forehead. He dropped to the ground.

  She raced over to his prone body. He was unconscious. Good. Killing two people in one day was probably over the top, even for a former police officer. She grabbed his pistol and stuck it in her pocket.

  “You!” Denali’s face paled. “You’re dead.”

  “Don’t you wish.” She used the sling twine to tie Ryan’s wrists behind his back, then tied him to the iron fence. “The only reason I didn’t let Ryan shoot you is for your grandson’s sake.”

  “Where is he? And where is Jake?”

  “You tell me. Ryan said Jake was dead, but if so, why would he send Lucas after him? I’m guessing Ryan’s planning on getting that formula from your family one way or another. As for Lucas, he’s safe.” She straightened. “Now you’re going to tell me the truth for a change.” She stared straight into his eyes. “Tell me about Ruuwaq.”

  Denali swallowed twice, hard. “I had to protect my family name. Our reputation. Our home.”

  “I’m not impressed. Get on with it.”

  “I didn’t know any of this until Jake spotted the bodies on Ruuwaq ten years ago. I told Leif, or at least the man who called himself Leif, about it. I figured he’d be interested because he worked with my dad on that island.