by Rita Herron
But if she found Simon, she would be on the run again.
They chatted for several more minutes about mundane things. Alanna laughed at her grandmother’s story about the older man in 7B beating her at bingo, but soon fatigue coaxed her grandmother back into sleep.
“I love you, Gram.” I may not be back for a while, but remember that I love you. Alanna placed a kiss on her grandmother’s hand, then gently covered her up with the blanket. Taking one last look at her beloved face, she turned and walked away.
“Take care, sweetheart,” her grandmother whispered.
“I will.” Alanna squeezed her eyes to ward off the tears as she closed the door behind her. She had to find Simon, and if she did, when she did, she would go as far away from here as possible. Somehow, she willed her grandmother to understand.
ALANNA’S SCENT LINGERED in the empty cottage, the memories of their lovemaking jolting through Cain. Where had she gone? And why had she left when he’d ordered her to wait on him? Didn’t she trust that he would return and help her find Simon?
Trying not to panic, he searched the rooms for a note, but came up empty. His trained gaze scanned for any sign of a struggle, any clue that someone had found Alanna and forced her to leave. But the only signs he saw were the tangled bedspread where they had made love and the wet towel she’d used earlier.
Maybe she’d taken a walk on the beach. But at midnight? He paced to the window and stared outside, looking for signs of someone combing the strip of beach behind the cottage, but a dismal blackness swallowed the night. The sound of the ocean mingling with his own rapid heartbeat roared in his ears.
Frustrated, he slumped down on the threadbare plaid sofa and dropped his head into his hands, searching the floor as if the dusty beige carpet could give him answers. Then he spotted his cell phone. His mind raced with possibilities as he jerked it up and checked for messages.
His recording played, then Luke’s voice. “Cain, this is Luke again. Who the hell answered your phone a minute ago?”
The breath trapped in his throat.
Had Alanna answered and realized he had talked to the FBI? Sheer panic took hold of him. She didn’t think he’d turn her in, did she?
The hollow emptiness in the room spoke for itself.
Hoping Lu would offer him a clue, he punched in his friend’s number. Luke answered on the third ring. “Caldwell, where have you been?”
Cain relayed the mind-boggling turn of events that had ended with him finding his brother alive.
“I’m glad, man,” Luke said, a note of sincerity in his voice. “But who answered your phone? Was it the Hayes woman?”
Cain hesitated. “What makes you think that?”
“Just a hunch.” Irritation sharpened Luke’s voice. “What’s wrong with you—have you taken up your brother’s calling now?”
“Let’s just say I understand what drove him to do some of the things he did.”
“Look, Cain, either you tell me what’s going on or I’m hauling you in.”
Resigned, Cain explained the story about Alanna and Simon and his suspicions.
“Geesh, no wonder you were interested in Denise Harley’s research. You really think CIRP is doing research with this baby?”
“Yes, and I intend to find out what they’ve done with Simon.” And Alanna.
And bring her back and shake her for scaring him. Then make love to her until dawn.
But then he’d have to say goodbye again. Or would he?
“You’ve fallen for this woman, haven’t you?” Luke asked.
Even as Cain denied it, his heart clenched with worry. The past few days had been an emotional roller coaster. First thinking he’d lost Eric, then meeting Alanna and Simon and realizing they needed him. Realizing he needed them….
No, he didn’t need anyone. Hadn’t he learned that it was much too painful to love someone and lose them? With Eric he didn’t have a choice, but with Alanna he damn well did.
“Do you think she’ll try and find Simon on her own?” Luke asked.
Dear God, he hoped she didn’t, but he knew her well enough by now to know she wouldn’t give up without trying.
Which meant she was probably on her way back to the research center now. If they hadn’t caught her already…
JUST AS ALANNA LEFT her grandmother’s room, a nurse spotted her and called her name, but she ducked her head and hurried on, ignoring her. Afraid the nurse would phone the police, she rushed out the door, searching the area for Paul. She spotted him turning the corner of the building. He seemed to come out of nowhere, his face ashen, his gait slow. At least he was on his feet this time instead of in a wheelchair, but his eyes appeared glassy and his skin had a yellowish tint, the remnants of drugs, she supposed.
“Come on,” he whispered, grabbing her elbow, “We have to get out of here.”
“What’s going on, Paul?” Alanna stopped abruptly. “I thought they were holding
“They were, but I sneaked out.” He swayed slightly and she wondered how he’d driven there or if he’d taken a cab. “They took Simon to Nighthawk Island. We need to get to him.”
She clenched his arm. “Is he all right?”
He ushered her along the sidewalk toward a gray Lexus. “I’m afraid he’s not doing well.”
“The blood abnormality?”
“A hoax. Peterson faked some tests to show me so I’d believe he had a liver disorder and I’d help them. But now Simon is suffering from separation anxiety.”
She’d read about the condition in studies, but normally it wasn’t serious.
His frown told her another story. “I guess we didn’t count on the fact that with Simon’s superintelligence, he’d be more sensitive to stimuli around him.” He reached for the car door, looking over his shoulder. “He misses you and refuses to eat.”
“That can’t last,” Alanna said, as much for her own comfort as his.
“Remember those studies where doctors in Europe discovered that babies didn’t grow and develop because of a lack of human contact?”
“Not enough touching and cuddling, yes, I remember.”
“Simon may suffer to the extreme.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “There’s more, Alanna. The center has discussed bringing in Simon’s father.”
Alanna gripped the car door with trembling fingers. “Who is he?”
But Paul’s reply was cut off when two men in dark suits suddenly appeared behind him. Alanna opened her mouth to scream and reached for the pistol in her bag, but the taller man pressed a gun to Paul’s head and the other snapped her arms behind her before she could reach the gun.
CAIN PACED from one window to the other, wearing a footpath across the dusty carpet, trying to formulate a plan. Luke had offered to help and he would probably need it at some point, so he’d told him he would call. For now, he tried to think of a place Alanna might go. She’d mentioned visiting her grandmother. Or would she head straight to the research park? Surely not, not without someone to help her.
He found a scratch pad on the end table and noticed indentations where someone had written on it. Using a pencil, he shaded the page and saw the words nursing home had been scribbled on the pad. Of course.
It was worth a chance.
He dialed information, then asked them to patch him into the Savannah Nursing Home.
“Can you tell me if Alanna Hayes has been there to visit her grandmother tonight?”
“Who is this?” the nurse asked warily.
“A friend of hers.”
“You’re sure you’re not the police, ’cause I don’t believe for a minute that Alanna is a murderer.”
He gritted his teeth. “Look, I am a friend and I’m very worried about her. Her life may be in jeopardy.”
“Oh, God, she was just here a few minutes ago. I called her name so I could tell her I knew those police had made a mistake about her, but she practically ran out the door. I tried to catch her outside, but she met up with some men.”
“Did
you recognize the men?”
“One of them was that doctor who’s been on TV talking about his missing son.”
“Polenta?”
“Yes. She and the doctor were just about to get in this Lexus coupe when two men wearing fancy suits came up. Suddenly they changed their minds and Alanna and Dr. Polenta went with them.”
Cain hung up, his heart in his throat. Alanna was definitely in trouble. He grabbed his keys, stuffed his phone into his jacket pocket and headed to the door.
Where would the men take her and Polenta?
Were they still alive?
Chapter Nineteen
Alanna lay on the cold floor on her side, bound and gagged, facing the door of the cruiser cabin. Paul lay a few feet away in the same condition, only still unconscious. His complexion was a pasty white, his breathing uneven. She silently willed him to wake up. They had to escape and find Simon.
The strong scent of chloroform filled her senses and she coughed, fighting to drag air into her mouth around the gag. Thankfully, the constant crash of the waves on the shore and the lack of the engine hum suggested they weren’t moving. Yet.
Coupled with fear and the lingering effect of the drug, the sway of the boat made her stomach pitch to her throat. Arms numb from being tied behind her back slowly came to life with sharp pinpoints of pain as she tried to untie the ropes binding her wrists. What had Paul been on the verge of telling her about Simon’s father when they’d been captured?
Fumbling futilely with the ropes, she scanned the room for something sharp to help her, but found nothing but dark shadows and the single berth and utilitarian-type furniture that comprised the suite. She should have waited for Cain, yet the memory of his betrayal splintered through her. Would he come looking for her? How would he know where to find her?
Footsteps pounded outside the door, the sound of voices spiking her heartbeat to a fever pitch.
“They know too much,” a man with a deep voice said. “We’ll have to kill them and dump their bodies into the ocean.”
“How about the cop?”
“If he comes looking, we’ll take care of him, too.”
“Have you heard from Hughes?”
“He’s on his way.”
Alanna stiffened and pushed her feet against Paul’s legs to try to wake him. They had to hurryn’t let the men kill them or Cain.
“Does Hughes know about Project Simon yet?”
“I thought it’d be better if we told him in person.”
A throaty chuckle followed. “Won’t he be surprised to find out that not only have we resurrected the work he almost died trying to save, but from that work, he now has a son.”
Alanna froze. Dear God. Arnold Hughes was Simon’s father?
CAIN KNEW he needed help and agreed that Luke should fly in, but he couldn’t simply sit back and wait or it might be too late. They had mulled over the possibilities of where the scientists would take Alanna and Simon. After studying the various facilities on each of the three islands, their best guess was Nighthawk Island. The remote location would provide security for them as well as the perfect spot to get rid of intruders and cover up any illegal activities.
His stomach convulsed at the thought. They might already be too late to save Alanna.
The scientists wouldn’t hurt Simon, but she would be dispensable to them, as he would be if they caught him.
He didn’t give a damn about himself, but he could not let her die.
The FBI already had Nighthawk Island under scrutiny so Luke had master plans of the facility’s layout. Cain rented a small fishing boat, battling the wind and water spraying from the jets as he took the waves at full speed. The fifteen-minute trek seemed like hours, but he finally cut the engine and coasted into Serpent’s Cove, a discreet inlet tucked on the far side of the island away from the main hub of the research facility. Stuffing his gun in the holster inside his bomber jacket, he checked for extra ammunition, smeared dirt on his face to disguise himself in the light, and crept into the shadows of the trees.
Luke had told him the island had been named after the unusual nighthawk who sometimes stole into the night to attack its prey, animal or human. He didn’t miss the irony of the name and the way the legend personified the shadier side of a few of the research projects that had been uncovered.
Of course, most of the projects were legitimate, and most of the doctors truly were geniuses trying to better mankind. But there was occasionally one who either believed himself God or pushed ethics aside to use the advanced techniques for their own purpose.
The inky sky swallowed the stars, the clawlike fingers of the palms casting shadows over the land to obliterate the moon. Cain gauged his movements to keep his footsteps as soundless as possible with only an occasional snap of a twig jarring the silence. Feeling his way through the blackness of the forest by using his finely honed instincts, only a bird twittering or the slithering hiss of a snake gave him pause. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he approached the outer parameters of the main building, the sight of two security guards drawing his attention.
According to Luke’s latest information, the larger concrete building housed projects, the other smaller ones nestled along the island were being renovated, one of which was being equipped with heavy decontamination equipment that had raised the eyebrows of the feds. The center claimed to be working on anti-terrorist measures, but the possibilities were endless
Where would they take Simon and Alanna? Would they even be together?
Sneaking past the security proved difficult, but Cain finally managed by cutting through the backs of buildings, his ears and eyes tuned to see if Alanna might be in one of those. He found nothing.
A back entrance door opened, and the man who’d attacked Alanna in the graveyard exited, sliding a beefy hand over his slick bald head. Cain’s gut told him the thug would lead him to Alanna. Two men wearing white lab coats stepped to the doorway, their worried gazes flickering across the trees toward the shore on the west side.
“Get it over with,” the older of the two scientists said. The beefy man nodded and a cold chill engulfed Cain. He knew exactly what the man planned to do. Kill Alanna.
He had to stop him.
Watching the hired gun push his way through the heavy bushes skirting the forest edge, Cain slunk down low and followed him to a nearby docked boat. He’d come back later for the ones who’d issued the order. He hesitated long enough to call Luke and give him his location, then crouched down and ran toward the cruiser.
Was Alanna on board? What about Simon?
ALANNA TWISTED her body, sliding it inch by inch near Paul, swinging her feet to kick his legs. He stirred and moaned, his blurry-eyed gaze working to focus on her.
She gestured frantically toward the door with a jerk of her head, then rolled so her back touched his, nodding toward her bound hands, signaling for him to untie her. It took him several seconds to focus, but his weak nod acknowledged her silent plea. Finally he rolled himself so he could untie her ropes.
The putter of the engine coming to life startled her, sending a fresh wave of panic through her. Where were they taking her?
The answer immediately came to her.
Out to sea to dump their bodies so no one could find them.
Heaven help her, why had she gone off on her own and not waited for Cain? Why hadn’t she trusted him?
Because he’d lied to her and turned her in to the feds. And after Donald’s betrayal in their marriage, she hadn’t been able to accept another man’s lies.
But she could have left him a note and told him where to look for her in case something went wrong. She wanted to hold him in her arms one more time.
To hold Simon. He was already suffering from separation anxiety. If they killed her, would he survive without her?
The boat rocked over the crashing waves, the ominous sound of death reverberating in her ears as she pictured being tossed over the edge to the sharks. Behind her, Paul groaned and lost his grip as if he’d p
assed out again. She nudged him with her feet until he gathered enough energy to continue twisting at her ropes.
Simon’s trusting, innocent face flashed into her head. She refused to give up. She would get free and save him. Then she’d tell Cain just what she thought about his lies.
She had come too far in her life and fought t hard for it to end like this. Simon needed her. She wasn’t ready to die.
CAIN CRAWLED from beneath the tarp where he’d hidden in the storage area, wincing as the door squeaked open. The hired man steered the boat a good two miles off the shore, then dropped the anchor, leaving the helm with his gun cocked and ready to fire.
Cain waited until the man descended the three steps to the berth below, then crept behind him, his own weapon poised to fire should his footsteps give him away.
Seconds later, the door to a small cabin opened, and he heard scuffling, struggling noises. Then the man dragged Alanna outside and put the gun to her head. His heart slammed into his throat.
She had been fighting him, he could tell by the fiery gleam in her eyes and her erratic movements, but she suddenly went deathly still. Seizing her by her bound arms, he then dragged her toward the steps. Cain darted back up to the deck, crouched down and hid behind a cooler full of God knows what, holding his breath until they emerged. Ignoring the pull of his stitches, Cain attacked the man from behind.
The thug dropped Alanna’s body, letting it tumble down the steps, and swung around fighting. Cain kicked his midsection, but the man pulled his gun and Cain had to fire. Shock stole the anger from the man’s beefy face, and he clutched his hand to his chest as his body flew back. He collapsed against the life jackets with a grunt. Blood spurted from his chest wound and his eyes bulged.
His heart racing, Cain jumped the steps and found Alanna crumpled on the floor. When she heard his footsteps, she angled her head, eyes wide with fear.
“It’s me, Alanna.”
Her terror-stricken gaze flew to his, but a quiet gasp of relief followed when she recognized him.