by Rebecca York
“I hope so. I hope we can use their experiment against them to find Trevor.”
His arm tightened around her. “I’d like that.”
“I wanted to tell him his daddy was with me. And we’d find him together.”
Matt sucked in a sharp breath. “I’d like him to know that I’m looking for him, too. But I think we don’t want to introduce any new factors—yet.”
“I know. That’s what I was thinking.” She moved restlessly beside him. “Maybe if I go back to sleep, I can talk to him again.”
Feeling better than she had in days, she settled down beside Matt, and he clasped her close. It was comforting to feel his arm around her. Finally, she did fall asleep, hoping to speak to her son again.
Chapter Eight
Shelley fought disorientation as she woke. She wasn’t in her own bed at home. And she wasn’t…
At the ranch. Turning her head, she saw Matt lying next to her. They were at a motel he’d checked them into the night before. The third place they’d been. After the last motel, where she’d taken that horrible transponder out of his thigh.
That would have been enough for one night, but a lot had happened since then. Like making love with Matt—then dreaming that she was talking to Trevor.
Matt turned his head and gave her a critical inspection. “How do you feel?”
His face was tense. So was his voice, and she knew he was waiting for her to start explaining that they’d made a mistake last night, but she wasn’t going to do it, not when she’d practically come in here with seduction in mind.
“Okay,” she whispered instead.
Under the covers he reached for her hand and wrapped his fingers around hers. “Did you talk to Trevor again?”
Before she spoke, she shifted her hand so that her fingers were knitted with his. “No. Maybe I just dreamed the whole thing.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You were skeptical when I first told you. Why not now?” she asked in a small voice.
“Because I’ve had time to think about how detailed and vivid it was. I’ll bet when we find him, you’ll see the same things you described.”
“You really think so?”
“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”
“It could just be wishful thinking.”
He rolled toward her and gathered her close. “Don’t try to talk yourself out of it.”
“Why not?”
“I think we have to assume that nothing connected with Trevor’s disappearance is ‘usual.’ If you think you’re able to talk to him, you probably can.”
She raised her head and stared at Matt. “Even if it’s true, he’s just a little boy. He doesn’t know where he is, and he doesn’t know how to get away. Especially if he’s chained to a bed.”
Matt winced. “I know that’s hard to take. But it tells us something, actually. I was in a secure facility. Somewhere they thought I couldn’t get away. This guy Blue must have Trevor in a place where he could escape if he were free to run around the cabin. Or if someone could come scoop him up.”
She felt a spurt of hope. “That’s something.”
He dragged in a breath and let it out before saying, “But it’s not enough. I think we’re at the point where we need some help.”
She gulped. “You mean the FBI? That’s taking a big chance—since the kidnappers warned me not to contact the authorities.”
“We followed up our only lead. Do you have any other suggestions?”
“Maybe I can reach out to Trevor again,” she said, searching Matt’s face for some reaction. But he kept his features even.
“Okay. Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“Would you mind?”
“I’ll go in the other bedroom. There’s a bathroom in there where I can shower and get dressed. Then I’ll get us some breakfast.”
“I feel like I’m driving you away.”
“Of course not. I’m just giving you some privacy. What do you want to eat?”
“Anything.”
“The hotel has a breakfast bar. I’ll get us something from down there. The less I’m outside, the better.”
Her stomach knotted. “You mean because those men are still looking for us?”
“Yeah. I’m thinking they’re not going to just give up, even without the transponder.”
When he’d left the room, she plumped up the pillow, lay back and closed her eyes. She pictured the room that she’d seen and Trevor lying on the bed, with one hand shackled to the bedpost. The image made her stomach tighten again, but she held onto it.
“Trevor,” she called softly. “Trevor, it’s Mommy. I’ve come back to talk to you again—like we did last night.”
Her breathing shallow, she waited for some response, trying to reach out to her son with her mind, but she couldn’t make anything happen. Well, she could imagine a conversation, but she knew it was only something she was making up. Which reinforced the conviction that the previous contact had been the real thing.
When she realized her muscles were tied in knots, she forced herself to relax and do some of the deep-breathing exercises that she’d learned in a yoga class. She succeeded in dispelling some of her tension, but she simply couldn’t locate Trevor. It was as though she’d had a television cable hookup last night with the Trevor channel. This morning, it wasn’t in the lineup.
That thought sent a wave of panic crashing over her. What if the man called Blue had killed him?
No! She wouldn’t let that be true, and it didn’t make sense. Why would they go to all this trouble to activate Trevor’s I gene if they were just going to kill him?
But what if it had happened anyway? What if they’d given him too much of the treatment too fast—and it had killed him? Or knocked him unconscious?
Unable to stand the thoughts churning in her head, she jumped out of bed and stood staring out the window—her vision blurred by a sheen of tears.
That was how Matt found her when he came back with a cardboard tray filled with coffee, muffins and hard-boiled eggs.
As soon as he saw her, he set the tray down on the table and reached for her.
“What is it? Did you talk to him? Did he tell you something bad?”
It took an effort, but she managed not to start sobbing. “No. It’s just the opposite. I couldn’t get through to him at all, and I started imagining all kinds of horrible things.”
He stroked her back and hair. “Don’t do that to yourself.”
“Why couldn’t I talk to him the way I could last night?”
“There are a lot of reasons. It could be simple—like he’s sleeping.”
“He reached me in my sleep.”
“Maybe it doesn’t work the other way. Or maybe it’s because he’s just learning to use his ability. It’s not reliable. Or it’s still new, and it comes and goes.”
She nodded against his shoulder. “Or he’s with Blue right now, and he’s afraid that he’ll give himself away if he tries it.”
“Right. That’s another possibility.”
When she caught a strained look on his face, she asked, “What are you thinking now?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me!”
“I was thinking that there may be a limit to how far Trevor can project. If Blue moved him farther away, maybe he can’t reach you anymore.”
She couldn’t hold back a little cry. “No!”
“I’m sorry, it popped into my head.”
“But you could be right. I mean, they could even take him out of the country.”
“That’s kind of risky for them, don’t you think?”
She fisted her hands in frustration. “I’m getting hyper again.”
“You’re his mother. Of course you’re upset, but let’s try to get back to something normal. Do you want to get dressed or eat first?”
She looked at the food he’d brought without enthusiasm. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Then get dressed. That may make you feel m
ore in control.”
When she came out of the bathroom wearing jeans and a shirt, Matt had made the bed and was sitting with his back propped against the pillows watching TV.
“Anything we should watch out for?”
“The parking-lot shooting incident made the local news.”
“Do they have any more information than we did?”
“They’re looking for the couple who were staying in room twenty-three.”
“Oh, great.”
“They have a sort of description of me. Height and weight. Hair color. They didn’t see you.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Shave my head?”
“The Bruce Willis look?”
“Yeah.”
She sat down on the other side of the bed where he’d placed her coffee cup, muffin and egg. The coffee was cold, but it didn’t really matter.
And the muffin tasted like cardboard. After eating about a third of it, she said, “I’ve been trying to come up with another angle, but I guess we’d better call the FBI.”
“Okay. Jack gave me a number for the task force that’s working on the case.”
When he pulled a slip of paper out of his shirt pocket, she knew he’d come prepared.
IN THE PARKING LOT of the motel, two other people were having a quick breakfast—Bobby Savage and Don Campbell. The man they were working for had told them Whitlock and Young were on a mission, a mission they must not be allowed to complete. Because Bobby knew he had to find them and stop them, desperation had kept him and Don up all night, checking every motel in or near Rapid City. They’d finally gotten lucky—just when they’d almost decided to give up and beat a retreat to somewhere like Vancouver.
A clerk who was going off duty remembered a guy checking in late at night. A guy who looked like he was running from the law, the clerk said. And when Bobby showed him the picture he’d been given, the clerk said it was him.
Which meant they were back in business and waiting for Whitlock and Young to come out so they could scoop them up.
Don craned his neck toward the door. “Nothing yet.”
“Maybe they’re sleeping in. They had a rough night.”
“So did we.”
“What do you think they’re doing here?” Bobby asked.
“Maybe they’re looking for money from a big heist.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“You think we could grab the loot and split?”
“Let’s play that by ear.”
They didn’t say what they were both thinking. Losing the couple hadn’t been their fault. That damn GPS thing had stopped working, but they were the ones who were going to catch heat for the slip-up. Which meant that they’d better get it right this time.
SHELLEY LOOKED at the phone number Jack had provided. “Is that in Washington, D.C.?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it better to call from a cell phone or from this motel?”
He thought about that for a few minutes. “You mean, which is easier to trace?”
“Yes.”
He shrugged. They can probably figure out where the call is coming from either way. But if we use the motel phone, we can leave right away, assuming they don’t have somebody in town ready to swoop down on us.”
“You think they could?”
“No, I was just trying to give you the worst case.”
“Let’s go with the best case—that they know where to find Trevor.”
“Right. Do you want to listen in on the call from the extension?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. But let me do the talking.”
“You think I’ll break down?” she asked in a tight voice.
“No. But I think it’s less confusing if only one person speaks.”
She nodded and went into the other room, where she found that the second phone was a portable. Hurrying back to the doorway, she held it up to show Matt.
“Okay. Good.”
The phone beside the bed was a conventional landline. After picking up the receiver, he dialed and waited.
The woman who answered said, “FBI field office. How may I direct your call?”
As she listened on the other line, the question made Shelley realize that they should have talked about their approach. What was Matt going to say now?
He glanced at Shelley, then said, “I’m calling in regard to an operation involving a place called the Facility.”
“One moment please.”
He was put on hold—complete with light classical music playing over the line. Was the delay so the FBI could trace the call?
Still clutching the extension phone, Shelley walked to the chair in the corner and sat down. Matt took his cue from her and sat on the bed.
After about a minute, a man came on the line.
“This is special agent Perry Owens. How can I help you?”
“We’re trying to locate our missing son.”
“To whom am I speaking?”
“I’d rather not say over the phone,” Matt answered.
“Where did you get this number?”
Matt sighed, and she knew he was starting to realize that he wasn’t going to get very far into the conversation unless he established that he had a legitimate reason for calling.
“Jack Maddox told me you might be able to help.”
“You’re the man and woman who visited him yesterday?”
Shelley struggled to hold back a gasp.
“How do you know that?” Matt demanded.
The guy didn’t beat around the bush. “We have his house under surveillance.”
Shelley was starting to feel that they’d stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. “Okay. Yes, that was us.”
“Matt Whitlock and Shelley Young.”
“Yes,” Matt growled.
“Did you get into some trouble in Rapid City last night?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“What happened, exactly?”
“I guess we should wait on that till we get there.”
“Agreed,” the guy on the other end of the line said in a dry voice.
Just from this brief conversation, Shelley didn’t like Perry Owens, but making value judgments over the phone wasn’t going to do Trevor any good. Apparently Matt concurred because he said, “We’d appreciate any help you can give us to find our son.”
“We’ve taken over the Facility. Why don’t you come here and we can talk about your problem?”
“How do we get there?”
“I recommend that you don’t take a direct route.”
“All right.”
The man gave Matt directions. “We’ll be expecting you in the next couple of hours.”
“All right.”
He hung up and looked at Shelley.
“That didn’t sound too friendly,” she commented, after hanging up her own phone.
“Yeah.”
“He knows we visited Jack Maddox. He knows our names. He knows we got into some trouble last night. In other words—they’ve been keeping track of us.”
“I think it’s because they have Jack’s place under surveillance. Once we visited him, we got onto their radar.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“I don’t know yet. I guess we’ll find out when we get to the Facility. Too bad they didn’t send help when those guys were after us.”
“How did they get our names?” Shelley asked.
“They could have gotten mine from the license number of the rental car. Then they worked their way back to you.”
“Charming. Did we make a mistake?”
“With everything they know about us, I don’t think it makes any difference.”
She nodded.
“We’ll pack up and get on the road.”
They hadn’t taken much out of their luggage, so it was easy to get ready.
When Matt had set their bags next to the door, he looked out the window, checking the parking lot. “I don’t see
anyone, but we’d better not take any chances.”
“Who are we looking for? The bad guys—or the law?” she asked.
“Either or both.” He was silent for a moment. “I’ll take the bags down and check out. Then I’ll pull up at the entrance near this room. When you see the car, come down and get in.”
“Okay.”
He hesitated for a moment, then gathered her into his embrace and folded her close. Her arms came around him, holding tight, and they clung together for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“For what?”
“Getting you into all this trouble.”
“You didn’t have a choice. Neither did I.”
“I could have gone straight to the FBI and skipped all the chasing around.”
“You would have been terrified to do that.”
“I’m still terrified.”
“We both are.”
“You handle it pretty well.”
“I’m glad it looks that way.”
He hugged her more tightly, and she rested her head on his shoulder, thankful that she wasn’t in this alone. She’d been afraid to find out how he’d react to the news that he had a child, but he’d immediately offered to help her find their son. Now he was into the search as deeply as she was.
“We’d better get the show on the road,” he finally said as he eased away. “I wish I could call you on your cell phone.”
“Too bad the battery gave out before I got to your house.”
“Yeah. You’ll have to watch at the window. Then come down as soon as I pull up with the car.”
After he’d left the room, she walked to the window, knowing that it would take a little time for him to check out. Also knowing there was a lot that could go wrong in the next few minutes.
Time dragged as she waited for the rental car to appear below the window.
When she finally saw Matt, she let out the breath she’d been holding. But just as he slowed down, another car fell in line behind him.
Instead of pulling up at the curb, he shot away, and she saw him pick up speed as he roared out of the parking lot, then onto the highway.
SHELLEY’S HEART leaped into her throat as she watched Matt vanish, with the other car in hot pursuit.
Oh, Lord, it must be the men from last night. Somehow they’d found Matt. What was he going to do? Could he get away from them? Or would they catch him?