Expose

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Expose Page 23

by Saranne Dawson


  Melrose continued to glare at her for a moment, then turned to Sam. “You haven’t said anything.”

  Sam shrugged. “I’m just helping Kate with her story. But I agree with her. And there’s one thing Kate forgot to mention. An intern who was working in Newbury’s office died under suspicious circumstances after telling several people that he’d discovered something that troubled him.”

  “This is outrageous! You can’t—”

  “You said that before, Mr. Melrose,” Kate interrupted. “But it seems that you and I have different views of what’s outrageous. What I consider to be outrageous is that you’re using those kids as guinea pigs and that, in all likelihood, two people have been murdered to cover up your illegal activities.”

  “They aren’t my illegal activities! I told you before that my position as board president is purely a voluntary one, mainly to raise funds.”

  “In that case, you must be as eager to get at the truth as we are,” Kate challenged. “I’d suggest that you call an emergency board meeting and insist on having all those kids tested.” She paused a beat. “Or perhaps I should contact the other board members and tell them myself.”

  “We’re all busy people. I can’t just call a meeting because of some harebrained accusations.”

  “Fine. I’ll call them myself and see if they agree with you.” She stood up. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Melrose. We can find our own way out.”

  Sam got up, too, and they both started for the door.

  “Wait! I’ll call the board and set up a meeting as quickly as possible. And in the meantime, I’ll talk to Ted Snyder myself.”

  Kate turned. “I have no doubt that you’ll be talking to him the moment we leave. You have my card.”

  Neither of them said anything until they were back in Sam’s car. Then Sam put the key into the ignition and began to chuckle.

  “That was quite a performance. I especially liked that ‘You have my card’ at the end.”

  Kate laughed. “I enjoyed it. It helped to get rid of some of my frustrations.” Then she grew sober very quickly. “Surely they won’t dare to do anything to those kids now.’’

  Sam nodded his agreement. “But the question is what they will do—or what they can do.”

  “What do you mean?” Kate asked as they started back down the driveway.

  “Well, it occurred to me that if you’re right about the kids getting some drug, they could discontinue it—and we don’t know how long it would stay in their systems.”

  “Oh.” Kate hadn’t given any thought to that. She was silent for a few moments as she stared at the Mel-Wyn Farms sign. Wyndover. Why did that name ring a bell? But once again, her mind turned to more immediate concerns. “Whatever the drug is, it must have long-lasting effects,” she told Sam. “Charles Scofield wasn’t taking anything after he left New Leaf.”

  “Yeah, but you said that the hospital ran tests on him and found nothing abnormal.”

  “That’s what the Sun’s reporter said his contact there told him. But we don’t know what tests they ran.” She sighed. “If only we could find those kids who were at the farmhouse. Then we’d have some real evidence.”

  “Are you going to make good on your threat to go to the Maryland licensing authorities?” Sam asked.

  Kate nodded. “But I don’t expect them to move as quickly as I told him. We have to find those kids, Sam.”

  WYNDOVER. IT CAME TO HER just as she walked into the Post’s newsroom the next morning. Kate stopped dead in her tracks, stunned by the sudden flash of memory. It actually gave her the creeps. She hadn’t given any more thought to why Melrose’s wife’s name had seemed familiar. But obviously her brain had been working on it at some level. Now she knew where she’d heard the name before and she thought she might also know where to find the youths from the farmhouse.

  “Kate!” Damon stepped out of his office and beckoned to her.

  Kate shook her head and raced for the fire stairs. Sam had gone upstairs to talk to someone about his syndicated column . They were pressuring him for an answer, probably fearing that he was considering other offers.

  As she ran up the stairs, it occurred to Kate that her hunch had better pay off. If it didn’t, Damon was likely to come down on her hard. She’d find herself back on the Style page, covering charity auctions and Georgetown salons. And the truth was that it was nothing more than a hunch, but she was determined to run with it.

  Unlike the newsroom below, all was quiet and calm and pin-striped suits up here in the realm of the money men and the lawyers. More than a few brows were raised as Kate dashed down the hall in her jeans and T-shirt, which bore the slogan News Nose. When she reached the suite for the Writers’ Group, a young secretary looked up inquiringly. She was dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, causing Kate to wonder once again if the Post paid its secretarial staff better than it paid its reporters.

  “Is Sam Winters here?”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, he’s in a meeting with…”

  Kate didn’t wait any longer. She brushed past the startled secretary and burst into the adjoining conference room, where Sam sat at a big polished table with four suits, all of whom looked far more shocked than Sam did at this intrusion.

  “I know where the kids are. Let’s go!”

  Sam got up quickly, adding to the consternation of the three men and one woman. “You’ll have to excuse me,” he told them. “I’ll be in touch.” He flashed them a smile, took Kate’s arm and propelled her into the hallway. “Where?”

  She explained as they hurried down the hallway to the elevator. “I just realized where I’d heard the name Wyn-dover before. Remember the day I drove around looking for the so-called clinic and found the kids at the farm? I told you that I found them by feeding some story to these two waitresses in a little restaurant?”

  When he nodded, she hurried on.

  “I overheard the women talking about different local people and realized that I’d lucked into the town gossips. I wasn’t paying much attention at the time because I was trying to figure out how I was going to find this clinic. But one of them said something about someone—her cousin, I think—just getting a job at Wyndover Farm, taking care of the horses.”

  “But the farm is called Mel-Wyn,” Sam protested.

  “That’s the farm in Virginia. She wouldn’t have meant that, or she would have said where it was. She had to have been referring to a farm in the area. Don’t you see? That’s where they took the kids. I know it.”

  They got into the elevator. Sam pushed the button for the garage and leaned back against the wall, chuckling.

  “Okay, okay! Knock it off, Sam. If you don’t want to come along, I’ll go by myself.”

  “Of course I’m coming with you,” he said in a mollifying tone. “But this is pretty farfetched, Kitty-Kat.”

  “It’s no more farfetched than everything else about this crazy story! They had to put those kids someplace! And after our visit to Melrose, they might try to move them again. Wyndover isn’t exactly a common name, Sam—and I’m sure she said something about horses.”

  They reached the basement garage and got into the Porsche. “So exactly what do you plan to do—march in there and take the kids?”

  “Something like that. We can work on a plan while we drive out there.”

  “Damn the details! Full speed ahead!” Sam chuckled again.

  “You won’t be laughing at me when I get my Pulitzer!”

  “No,” he agreed. “I won’t. But then you’ll just want a second one.”

  “So?”

  Sam didn’t reply for a moment, and when he spoke again, his tone had become very serious. “This probably isn’t the time to be bringing this up, Kate, but I just want you to think about it. The reason I’ve been putting off a decision about a syndicated column is that I’d like it to be a joint column…with you.’’

  “You would?” Kate was so stunned that for a moment she completely forgot why they were rushing off to Penn
sylvania.

  “But it wouldn’t work unless we’re really partners.”

  “What do you mean? I haven’t kept anything from you.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  The car phone rang and Sam picked it up. Kate paid no attention to Sam’s end of the conversation. Was he angling for a joint byline for this story? She couldn’t believe that. Sam was as competitive as the next reporter, but…

  “That was Carl Levine. I asked him to look into Glasser Biotech and find out what they’ve been working on the past few years. He says they’ve put megabucks into research on the brain—specifically into finding ways to alter the way the brain works. But supposedly they backed off when NIH withdrew its approval.”

  Carl Levine was the Post’s science writer. Kate shivered.

  “I know I should be happy that I’m right, but this really scares me, Sam. It sounds like Brave New World.”

  “It is, and unfortunately, something like this has to happen before people realize just what science is capable of.”

  “The worst part,” Kate added sadly, “is that there will be people who’ll think it’s okay, as long as the experiments are done on criminals. Look at it this way. People are so worried about crime that if something came along that could prevent people from becoming violent, they’d buy it without realizing the wider implications. That’s what Glasser is counting on.”

  Sam smacked the steering wheel in frustration. “Dammit, I know that Newbury and Armistead are in this up to their ears, but the only way we’re going to be able to implicate them is if someone talks.”

  Kate wasn’t that interested in Newbury and Armistead at the moment. All she could think about was the damage that had been done to Charles Scofield and the other kids. But she had to admit that bringing down the slimy congressman and his obnoxious chief of staff would be a real coup.

  “About our partnership,” Sam said suddenly after a brief silence. “What I meant when I said that we should be real partners was that we should get married again.”

  Kate was still thinking about the kids, and it took a few seconds for her to recall their earlier conversation. She laughed and shook her head. “Your timing is as good as it was last time, Sam.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “When you proposed to me before, it was after I’d spent a weekend being intimidated by your family.”

  He gave her a blank stare. “I thought they’d been really nice to you.”

  “Oh, they were.” She shrugged and was silent for a moment. “Maybe the problem was me. I felt intimidated.”

  “I should have realized that. I’m sorry, Kitty-Kat.” He reached over to take her hand and press it to his lips. “And I’m sorry I brought it up now. We’ll talk about it later.”

  He released her hand and Kate held it curved in her lap, the imprint of his lips still warm and tingly. She was tempted to tell him that she’d marry him, but she remained quiet without quite knowing why. It suddenly occurred to her, however, that she was really afraid of remarrying Sam. What if it didn’t work? It seemed to her that that would be even worse than it had been the first time around. Hadn’t she always known then, deep down inside, that they’d have a second chance?

  “I HOPE THE SAME two women are here,” Kate said as they pulled up in front of the small coffee shop nearly two hours later. She was also wondering how cooperative they would be when they found out that she’d lied to them on her first visit.

  They walked in to find the small restaurant completely empty except for the women. Both turned in their direction, and while Kate thought they recognized her, it was Sam who drew their attention. Kate restrained a smile as she realized that Sam’s presence would undoubtedly make them more willing to forgive her—if they even noticed her, that is.

  Sam ushered Kate toward a booth. She resisted. “I’m not hungry,” she muttered. She wanted only to get the information and go find the boys.

  “They can use the business,” he replied in a low voice. “Just eat fast.”

  The younger woman bustled over with menus and a nervous smile.

  Sam turned his own smile up to maximum wattage. “Hi. We’d like some lunch—and some information.”

  Kate thought that the word “simper” had never been more effectively demonstrated than now, as the young woman asked how she could help them. “Aren’t you Sam Winters from CNN?” she added breathlessly.

  Sam nodded. “And this is Kate Stevens from the Washington Post. We’re working together on a story, and I think you might be able to help us.”

  “Sure. Anything.” The woman’s gaze briefly slid to Kate, then flicked back to Sam.

  “Do you happen to know of a place around here called Wyndover Farms?” Sam asked.

  “Sure. My cousin works there. They have horses. Charlie says they’re retired racehorses.”

  “Do you know anything about the people who own it?”

  She frowned. “They’re not from around here. They bought the place about a year or so ago. I think they’re from Virginia. I seem to remember Charlie said they have their big racing stable there.”

  Sam exchanged a triumphant glance with Kate, then turned back to the waitress. “Great. That’s the place we’re looking for. If you could just give us directions, we’ll have some lunch and be on our way. Is Charlie out there now?”

  “Yeah, he must be. He’s a sort of handyman on the place.”

  Kate spoke up for the first time. “Has he mentioned anything about some boys arriving there recently—in the past couple of days?”

  The woman shook her head. “But I haven’t talked to him for a while. Is this still about that boy you were trying to find?”

  Kate nodded, rather surprised that she even remembered, given that she was definitely star-struck at the moment.

  “I could check with my aunt, though—Charlie’s mother. He still lives at home.”

  “We’d appreciate that,” Sam assured her. “Now how about some of your homemade vegetable soup?”

  Kate decided that this was not the time to inform Sam that “homemade” didn’t mean quite the same thing anymore. They ordered and the waitress departed, promising to call her aunt and write out the directions.

  “So far so good,” Sam pronounced.

  But it got better—much better. A few minutes later, the waitress returned with their soup and the information Kate had been hoping for.

  “Aunt Dora says that there are some kids there. Charlie told her they all came a couple of nights ago, and they’re really weird—retarded or something. He’s kind of worried about them because he heard one of them yelling and stuff. They’re in a separate house—a place he’d been fixing up so it could be rented.”

  Sam and Kate ate their lunch in record time and Sam didn’t seem to notice that the soup didn’t live up to its billing. Kate rolled her eyes at the huge tip he left and they got back into the Porsche, with Kate studying the directions.

  Forty-five minutes later, they stopped across the road from the entrance to the farm. There was no sign, but the directions had been good so far, and through the trees that lined the property, she could see some horses grazing in a field.

  They could both see a big white frame house at the end of the long driveway and some low buildings that were obviously stables. But there was no other house in sight. Sam studied the scene, then pulled out again.

  “Let’s see if we can find the house where the kids are. If we’re lucky, maybe it’s got a separate entrance.”

  And once again, their luck held. The white wooden fence went on for nearly half a mile, then ended at another road. At the end of it sat a smaller house with peeling paint, just barely visible from the highway.

  “That must be it,” Sam said, reaching into the back for his binoculars.

  Kate squinted while Sam trained the binoculars on the house. She could see some figures on the porch, but couldn’t begin to make them out. Sam grunted with satisfaction, then handed her the binoculars.

>   “That’s Charles!” she cried as soon as she’d focused them. “And the other boy is the one I talked to—Stephen!”

  “I think we ought to get the police,” Sam said. “They can pick him up.”

  “We can’t be sure of that,” Kate reminded him. They’d had this discussion before and she was convinced that it wouldn’t be that easy. There was the matter of a warrant and that could take time.

  “So you still want to go up there and just talk him into coming with us,” Sam said in a resigned tone.

  “Yes. It’s worth a try anyway.”

  “He could be violent.”

  “They’ve got him on drugs. Let’s see if we can take him with us, and if we can’t, we’ll call the police and wait right here to make sure no one escapes.”

  Sam nodded and turned into the driveway. Kate saw that there weren’t any cars around the place, but she was sure that at least the woman must be there. They weren’t likely to be leaving the kids alone. She recalled that the man she believed to be the woman’s husband had sounded upset with the situation when they’d overheard him in the barn, so perhaps there was some hope of cooperation—or at least the hope that she wouldn’t try to prevent them from taking Charles.

  They pulled up in front of the house. The two boys watched them from the porch, but made no effort to leave their chairs. They got out and Kate walked toward Charles, smiling.

  “Hi. You’re Charles Scofield, aren’t you? I’ve met your mom.”

  Charles regarded her silently, his expression neutral. “Mom?” he said in a strange, dreamy tone.

  “Wouldn’t you like to go back to the hospital, where she can visit you?” Kate asked.

  But before he could answer, the woman Kate had met before appeared. She frowned at Kate, then stared at Sam.

 

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