After Lynn initiated the computer search, the phone buzzed. Her gaze locked on Nick; she listened without reply, and quickly ended the call.
“Trouble?” he asked.
“What else?” She checked the screen for a query response, but the search remained in progress. “You had a visitor this evening.”
“At the apartment?”
“Yeah. Seems your apartment manager is toast. It happened sometime between five and six this evening”
“What!”
“Your crime scene team ran a preliminary analysis of the ashes, and discovered mixed metal fragments from a mechanical heart valve that he had inserted three years ago as well as a Remington shotgun.”
On a day of surprises, this ranked near the top. What was Mr. Dugan doing in the apartment with a shotgun? Nick massaged his temples. The headache was returning for an umpteenth encore.
“And, they recovered the diamond from his wedding band. His wife identified the stone and verified that he was armed with the shotgun when he entered your place. She further explained that her husband had heard an intruder in your apartment, had called the cops, and had gone to investigate before they arrived.”
“Poor bastard.”
“I wonder what hit him. Murderers don’t usually fry their victims to death.”
Lynn was pumping him for information again, but he knew as much about as she did. Well, maybe he knew a little more. It sounded like some kind of magic. Magic! God, he’d never believed in magic before this morning, and he was still wasn’t completely convinced, but he had to face the facts that something had made his scotch vanish, turned his apartment into an earthquake epicenter, and reassembled his shattered mirror. If the white lady in the mirror was his guardian angel, then she must have gotten carried away with his apartment manager.
“There was something else in the report. Something that didn’t make any sense,” she added, watching him skeptically.
“Yeah?”
“There was a notation that the red circle on your bedroom floor was gone.”
“Erased?”
She shook her head. “No. Just gone. ‘Gone as if it had never existed’ was the exact wording, I believe. No chemical traces. Does it mean anything to you?”
He wrinkled his forehead. “No. I never saw it,” he said truthfully. “Where did you get your information?”
“Like you, I have my sources,” she replied evasively, and then quickly changed the subject. “I saved the best for last.” She paused. “You’re the prime murder suspect, Nick. There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”
“That’s absurd. I was here between five and six.”
“You and I know that, but the cops don’t.”
“So enlighten them.”
She turned to the monitor again. “I’ll think about it.”
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. It’s my bargaining chip.”
“Dammit, Lynn, quit talking in riddles. What the hell’s on your devious mind?” he demanded.
“You give me what I want, and I’ll give you your alibi. Fair enough?”
“Blackmail so becomes you.”
“Well, what do you say?”
He was incensed. “What do you want in exchange for the alibi?”
“I run the investigation. You assist behind the scenes.”
Nick’s fists doubled into blanched fists.
She waved a sophisticated remote control device in front of her. “One touch brings my cavalry to the rescue, so don’t try anything foolish,” she warned.
Nick stopped, but stood his ground. “At least I’d have the satisfaction of wringing your neck before I died.”
They glared at each other. The silence was deafening.
Nick finally ended the Mexican standoff. “Look, Lynn, without me, there wouldn’t even be an investigation. Nobody believed that the guy existed until you got that video. I’ll run point, and that’s that.”
“From a jail cell?” She laughed. “Good work if you can get it.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I’m afraid I would. You of all people should know how I am about getting my way.”
“Listen to reason. The assassin murdered Laura, and knocked Jimmy into a coma. This is more than a case for me. It’s revenge.”
She laughed again. “Don’t feed me that revenge shit, Nick. I know you, remember. I know that you were an absentee husband and father. Laura told me how miserable she was, and that she was thinking of divorcing you.” She lit another cigarette, and blew the smoke in Nick’s face. “The end result of a divorce would’ve been the same as no divorce: no Nick in her life. No man to help raise Jimmy. No man to comfort her. Love her. And no man to protect her! If you were so concerned about them, you would’ve done something about it while they were living.” She leaned close to his face. “The truth is, Nick dear, is that you don’t deserve any revenge. I was closer to Laura than you ever were, sex excluded. So you see, I’m the perfect person to run the point, as you put it, of the investigation.”
He clenched his jaw. “You’re incredible.”
Lynn dropped the cigarette on the floor, and crushed it with her shoe. “Just a good negotiator.”
Screeching brakes and the metallic crunch of a car wreck burst through the computer’s speakers. They both jumped, but it was merely a programmed sound that signaled the completion of the computer’s search. Their anxiety spiked and receded in a split second, and the hostility was temporarily abandoned, as both were anxious to examine the search results. After a minute of reading, they turned to each other, stunned and frustrated.
“Nothing on Jill Sandlin but her birth and social security information,” Nick said. His voice was dull with disappointment. “That’s not right! There has to be more. Tax records. Employment history. Details of any arrests. Family records, for chrissake!”
“Why do I have a sneaking suspicion that you already knew this?” she said. “You really don’t want to share anything with me, do you?”
“Think what you want.” He scrolled the screen, and pointed to a record for Jane Sandlin. “This is current,” he said, noting the month-old entry date. “Jill’s sister.”
“Says she was kidnapped last January while on vacation in the Bahamas. Hasn’t been heard from since,” Lynn read. “And she’s a prominent attorney in Atlanta with some very powerful political connections.”
“And she has a younger sister named Jill.” Nick ignored Jane Sandlin’s social connections, and pointed at the monitor. “Look. There’s a gap where Jill’s description was.”
Lynn scrutinized the area. “Nobody even took the time to close the white space when they deleted the information. It’s pretty obvious that someone with a high-level clearance erased her records, but who . . . and why?”
Nick scrolled back up the page, and pointed again. “Maybe that explains it.”
“Are you serious? Just because she’s buddy-buddy with Georgia’s favorite son, Hollis Danforth, doesn’t make him guilty of deleting government files.”
“I would tend to agree, if I hadn’t seen the video with your undercover man claiming the assassin was disguised as Hollis Danforth.” Nick also recalled the Creeper’s cell phone recording warning him away from the background investigation of Senator Danforth, but he wasn’t about to share that tidbit with Lynn. The Sandlins and Danforth were somehow linked to the Creeper. They had to be! He wasn’t a big advocate of coincidences.
“Point taken, but as influential as the old boy is, I don’t think even he has that kind of access to these government files,” she countered.
“No, but I’m sure there’s someone on his personal payroll who does.”
Lynn abruptly stopped her pacing. The elevator clanged to life, and began its ascent. “That’s odd.”
He stared at the elevator doors. “What’s odd?”
“Someone upstairs has called for the elevator despite my standing order to never disturb me down here.” She picked up the phone, and punched
a single extension. Her complexion paled as she replaced the receiver. “The line’s dead.”
Nick grabbed the thirty-eight off the table. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was better than throwing pencils.
“It’s useless,” Lynn said. “You don’t think I’d leave a loaded gun at your disposal, do you?”
“Talk about trust,” he replied mordantly, dropping it on the table. “Now what do we do? Challenge our intruders to a game of chess?”
“Relax. Only my agents have the key to activate the controls.”
“You don’t look relaxed.”
She didn’t respond. Nick was right. The incident had ruffled her self-control. Anybody could have exterminated the agents and seized the keys.
Lynn shuffled quickly to one of the computer stations, and brought up the grid of live-action, security camera videos. All twenty grids were static and video noise. She slumped into the chair.
Nick’s keen, field mind was clicking on all cylinders. “Since we’re in your backyard, I’m open to suggestions about escape.”
She nodded toward the elevator. “That’s it.”
Nick took his turn at pacing. “Okay, let’s not panic. What other weapons do you have down here? Preferably the loaded kind.”
“They’re not allowed.”
He stopped dead. “Not allowed?”
“Nick, “ she said, her voice raised defensively, “we formulated that policy to prevent potential hostage situations or information theft. Weapons availability would facilitate those scenarios. You’ve got to understand that this is where we conduct our skull sessions as well as our clandestine interrogations. It’s bug proof.”
“And escape proof,” he added.
She nodded sadly. “I designed this facility, so go ahead, beat me over the head with it.”
The elevator motor whined to a stop. Lynn and Nick listened. Seconds later, hideous, blood chilling shrieks and obscenities intermingled with a deep, freight train rumbling, erupted down the shaft. Then a menacing silence.
“Sounded like a tornado.” Nicked wondered if this was all a ploy to catch him off guard.
Before she could respond, he grabbed her arm. “This isn’t some kind of trick to get your boys down here to waste me, is it?” he demanded gruffly.
“Wh . . . what are you talking about? We’re partners on this.”
He tightened his grip. “Do partners drug each other?”
“I don’t . . . “
“Cut the crap. I recognized the drug in my scotch glass.”
She was clearly flustered. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think you were going to cooperate, so I went to plan B.”
“So is this elevator gag plan C?”
“No, no! I don’t understand what’s happening myself.”
He could tell by the fear varnishing her eyes that she was telling the truth. He released her arm.
The elevator cables screeched to life again, and the car began its steady descent. A small yelp escaped Lynn’s lips.
Nick swiftly scanned the room for anything that would provide refuge against the their unknown guest. His eyes fell upon the thick steel doors. “Why didn’t I think of it before? We can hide out in those vaults until your cavalry rides to our rescue.”
“No ventilation in them. We wouldn’t last an hour.”
“Dammit, Lynn, can’t you ever say yes to any of my suggestions?”
The elevator was nearly there.
Their glances united. There was nothing more to say. With their defense options trimmed to zero, they were hopelessly trapped.
Chapter 21
After years of ladder climbing, Nick and Lynn were bound for the same fate: dry bones and damp earth. There was no first or second place awarded for dying. A cemetery chill swept through him. I’m standing in hell, he thought. Why bother struggling with the inevitable. I’m doomed. The Creeper wins by my losing.
His hands encircled his head. This wasn’t a time for losing his cool. He wasn’t a whiner. He was a fighter. He had faced death a hundred times in the field, and had always found a way to reverse the odds in his favor.
The elevator slowed beyond the doors. Death had arrived.
“C’mon!” Nick looped Lynn’s arm, and pulled her toward the open steel door.
“We can’t . . .”
“We can! You lock yourself in that vault, and I’ll do the same in this one. Splitting up will prolong our oxygen supply. Whoever’s on the elevator can’t get through these doors, and probably won’t try too long and chance a confrontation with the next shift of agents. It’s is our only hope, Lynn.”
She started to object, but it was too late. Nick shoved her inside the small space, retrieved the Colombian video from the DVD player, and scrambled back to his vault.
“Now lock your door!” he yelled at Lynn.
The elevator doors parted quietly, revealing an impenetrable blackness inside. Thick, resonant breaths intimated that it was not empty.
Lynn stood staring at the gloom, frozen in place, as Nick tugged on the heavy door of his vault. He glanced over, noticed that her door was still open, and despite the objections from his own survival instincts, rushed back to her vault. He threw his shoulder into the door, and it moved slowly inward.
“Hurry, Nick! It’s coming,” she shouted, but suddenly he wasn’t there. The door rested a mere two feet from the frame.
Lynn was frantic. Nick had vanished right before her eyes! Her hands flew to her mouth to dam the scream rising in her throat.
What had happened topside? And where the hell was Nick?
An enormous form detached itself from the elevator shadows, and shambled into the dim light. Lynn shrank back deeper into the small area, and whimpered in fright. The thing standing in her conference room wasn’t human.
It was tall – nearly eight feet, she guessed - and resembled a grotesque Pan. Below the waist, fawn scales blanketed two sinewy legs, bent backward like an animal’s, with hocks instead of knees. Two thickset, reptilian feet supported it, each with three splayed and clawed toes.
From the waist up, its scaly torso widened symmetrically to broad, stooped shoulders. Two bulging arms with thick elbows and wrists practically dragged on the floor as it moved. Each wrist was coupled to a trident of yellow, razor-sharp talons. A single row of bony, crimson spikes climbed the back of the stout neck, buttressing a massive, oblong skull. Its head was devoid of scales and hair; smooth, tawny flesh swathed its gruesome features like a latex mask. Modest, pointed ears were flattened against the skull’s sides; slanted, large, elliptical orbs burned orange hellfire. Horizontal ridges of bone protruded both above and below the eyes, separated only by broad, flared nostrils. The jaw line and mouth obtruded well beyond the cheek contours, outlined by black, leathery lips, and gorged with yellow, dagger-like teeth.
The beast glanced around with its nose high, sniffing the air like a coonhound. Lynn awakened from her ephemeral daze, and crept toward the door. In an instant, it turned, and bore its fiery gaze into her wide eyes. Her hand paused above the door handle, trembling with dread. Although the creature was hunched over, it ran at Lynn with surprising speed. The floor shuddered with each ponderous footfall.
With a high-pitched squeal, she strained every muscle in her body, and tugged the heavy door toward the frame, but she wasn’t quick enough. A talon sliced into the sliver of remaining space. The creature threw back the door as if it were weightless, and dragged Lynn into the center of the conference room.
Lynn spun away from a clumsy swipe of its talons, kicked off her shoes, and sprinted hell-bent-for leather toward the elevator. Please God, be with me! Lynn was an atheist, but in her panicked state, she was grasping at straws. Grasping for life.
The key was in the control panel. Lynn twisted it, and the doors glided together. The creature’s thunderous charge shook the car, as the elevator began its ascent. She slid down along the back wall to the floor. Thank God. She made it.
The elevator suddenly lurched to a s
top, as the creature ripped through both closed doors and gripped the floor frame. Lynn screamed in terror, and flattened herself against the wall. The motor at the top of the shaft screeched angrily, and spewed smoke as it fought to free itself. After a brief struggle, it overheated and froze up with one final, earsplitting squeal.
The creature flexed its powerful muscles, and pried the doors completely apart. Lynn kicked wildly at the huge talons that stretched through the twisted metal and groped for her, but the confined space worked against her. The sharp claws locked on her legs, yanked her through the uneven opening, and tossed her like a rag doll onto conference table. Pain erupted in her back, but before she could slide under the table, a claw grabbed her ankle again and tossed her into the stainless steel electronics bank. Her skull cracked against the metal, and the room darkened.
Lynn was scarcely aware of it leaning over her, its orange embers burning into her consciousness. It spoke, but its raspy voice was unintelligible.
She heard herself groan. It seemed like a distant clone of herself. “What?” she managed.
“Where’s Bellamy?” it repeated.
Her eyes flitted toward the open steel door on the left. “I . . . don’t know.”
An undulating howl exploded from its throat, as it seized Lynn beneath her armpits and propped her in an upright position against the electronics center. The talons dug into her back, and blood flowered her jacket.
“You’ve got to believe me, I don’t know where Nick is! Please, let me go. I haven’t done anything to you,” she cried.
It held a paw in front of her, and chanted in an extremely deep voice. The unknown words sounded like growls. Blue energy danced between the tips of the three talons.
“Please, no!” she cried.
The blue light jumped to her shoulders, and followed the talons as they moved down her body. Where the energy touched, her clothes vanished and her naked flesh became petrified. The creature skipped her abdomen, then continued along her genital area down to her toes. Terror inflated her eyes. She was paralyzed from the neck down! Panic worried her sanity, as she listened to faraway screaming. Hers.
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