“Mr. Hobson, did you ever hear that Carl Rice was a member of a secret army unit run by General Wingate?” Kirkpatrick asked.
“That’s what Vanessa claimed in an unpublished book she’s written, but Rice’s army records don’t support her accusations. From what I’ve learned Vanessa hates her father. She believes that he murdered her mother. She also believes that he killed John F. Kennedy.”
Kirkpatrick and Walsh stared at each other in disbelief.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” the prosecutor said.
“Then she’s nuts?” the detective added.
“Vanessa is a very troubled woman with a lot of odd ideas. She works for one of those supermarket tabloids that run stories on alien abductions and Elvis sightings.”
“We’ve just learned that Carl Rice claims that the Unit is real and that he worked in it for the General,” Walsh said.
“Yes, well, I’m inclined to think that we’re dealing with two mentally disturbed individuals who are feeding off each other’s fantasy. It’s even possible that Vanessa murdered the congressman and framed Rice for it.”
“Then why would he help Vanessa?” Ami asked.
“And you are?” Hobson asked.
“Ami Vergano. Carl was renting an apartment over my garage. He was helping out at my son’s Little League game when he hurt Barney Lutz and that officer.”
“Ms. Vergano is Rice’s lawyer,” Kirkpatrick added.
“I see,” Hobson said. “Well, Ms. Vergano, if Rice is crazy, and he’s in love with Vanessa Wingate, he might do anything.”
“Mr. Hobson,” Ami said, “a man broke into my house tonight. He murdered two policemen and tried to kill me. Carl saved me. Doesn’t that make you think that Carl and Vanessa might be telling the truth about the General and the Unit?”
“Morris Wingate’s company has its own security force. If the General thought that Rice was a danger to his daughter, he might have sent them after him.”
“But they killed the policemen.”
“Did you see them do that?” Walsh asked.
Ami paused. When she answered she was less sure of herself. “I saw Carl kill the man who broke into my room. He told me that the men had murdered my guards.”
“There you have it,” Hobson said. “Isn’t it possible that Rice killed the policemen and Wingate’s men arrived at your house shortly afterward? Rice could have ambushed them and told you that he saved you.”
“Look,” Walsh interrupted, “this speculation is getting us nowhere. It doesn’t matter whether or not this Unit exists. Rice broke out of jail and Vanessa Wingate helped him. They’re fugitives and they’re armed and dangerous. We need to arrest them. We can sort out these big issues once they’re locked up.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Vanessa drove west from Portland on back roads until she hit US 101, the narrow highway that runs from Washington to California along Oregon’s scenic coastline. If it had been daylight Carl and Vanessa would have seen stunning rock formations jutting out of the Pacific, massive sand dunes, and stands of evergreen, but they drove in the dead of night and all they saw was the eerie glow of whitecaps floating like ghosts in the darkness when the highway drew close to the ocean.
Ami had told them where the unpaved dirt road to the cabin joined the highway. Her directions were good and they found the turnoff easily. The car bounced along for a quarter of a mile. Then the headlights illuminated a two-story house with gray siding that had been weathered by the constant battering of the sea air. The cabin backed on the beach and was surrounded by woods.
Carl and Vanessa realized that they were starving. Vanessa had planned ahead. She had a duffel bag filled with provisions in the trunk, along with another bag filled with clothes. The first thing they did when they were inside was check the refrigerator so that they wouldn’t have to waste their food. They found cold beer and soda, some frozen food in the freezer compartment, and canned goods in the pantry. Carl fixed dinner using some of the food from the duffel bag and some of the food that was already in the house.
When they were finished eating, Carl cleaned up while Vanessa walked through the rest of the cabin. Besides the kitchen, there was a small living room and a half bath on the first floor. A back door opened onto a sandy yard that overlooked the beach. Upstairs were three small bedrooms. Vanessa was standing in one of them when she heard Carl come up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. She felt the warmth through her shirt and turned into his arms.
“I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet,” he said.
Vanessa smiled. “We’ve been a little busy.”
Carl slid his arms down to Vanessa’s waist and kissed her. His kiss was tentative but her answering kiss was not. Carl took a deep breath.
“You need to get some rest,” he said.
Vanessa ran her hand along his chest. “Care to join me?”
“Not tonight. I have to stand guard.”
“No one is going to find us here. You need sleep, too.”
“I dozed in the car. And we don’t know what type of surveillance equipment Wingate has. For all we know, he’s been using a satellite to track us.” Carl kissed her forehead. “So get to sleep. One of us has to be fresh in the morning.”
Vanessa opened the window and let in the cold sea air, suddenly exhausted. She kicked off her shoes and slid between the sheets. It seemed to her that she had slept only a few minutes when an insistent tapping on her shoulder brought her out of a dark dream. There was a hand across her mouth and she panicked until she realized that it was Carl’s.
“They’re here,” he whispered.
Vanessa stepped into her shoes, took her Magnum out of her purse, and followed Carl to the back door. On the way down the stairs, Carl told her that they couldn’t take the car because they would have to drive through Wingate’s men, who would blow it to pieces.
“We’ll get into the woods behind the house and keep moving,” Carl said. “I didn’t see a landing party on the beach. They’ll come at us from the front and circle around.”
“I’ll slow you down, Carl. I’ll make noise. They’ll hear me.”
“You didn’t forget about me and I’m not leaving you.”
She gripped his shoulder and stared into his eyes. “Be smart. My father will kill you, but he won’t kill me. I’m his daughter. Get away, then come for me if you can.”
Carl started to argue but she sealed his lips with a finger. “We don’t have time. Go.”
Carl realized that Vanessa had sized up the situation correctly. He could move through the woods like a ghost, but Vanessa had no training and she’d give them both away.
“I’ll come for you,” Carl said. Then he kissed her hard and ran out the back door. Vanessa looked over her shoulder and saw him disappear into the woods heading north as she headed south, hoping to bring as many men as possible after her.
The backyard was small, and she was into the woods in no time. Over the years, a footpath had been worn through the underbrush, but she was afraid to follow it because that’s where her pursuers would go. Vanessa left the trail and tried to push through the thick foliage without making noise. A little light, cast down from a quarter-moon, filtered through the upper branches. Vanessa had gone only a few steps in the dark when a branch snapped across her cheek, drawing blood. She gritted her teeth against the sharp pain and stumbled over a root, tumbling to the ground. She was about to stand when a man materialized out of the darkness a few feet from her. He carried an automatic weapon that was only slightly larger than Vanessa’s Magnum.
Vanessa gripped her gun tightly as the man disappeared into the foliage. She didn’t know what to do. She had made a lot of noise during the short time she’d been in the woods. She would make more if she left her hiding place. After some thought, she decided to stay where she was and hope Wingate’s men would go away if they didn’t find her. She had just made her decision when her gun was plucked from her hand. Vanessa swung around.
“
It’s me, Vanessa. Don’t be afraid.”
Vanessa rose unsteadily. Her legs were shaking and her breath was tight in her chest.
“Sam?” she asked.
“Everything will be okay now.”
Vanessa took a step back and bumped into another man who was right behind her.
“Don’t worry,” Sam Cutler said. “You’re safe. I’m going to take you to the General.”
Vanessa’s mouth gaped open and her eyes widened. “You work for my father?”
“Your dad was worried about you, especially when he made his decision to run for president. He was afraid you’d do something crazy and he wanted to protect you.”
Vanessa’s eyes blazed with hate, and her rage built like a hurricane. She had cared about this man; she had taken him into her bed and her heart. She remembered how frightened she’d been when she thought that her father might hurt him. Now she felt like a fool.
Vanessa drew her arm back to hit Sam and the man behind her caught her wrist in an iron grip.
“You bastard,” Vanessa screamed as she struggled to break free.
“Please try to understand, Van. I know you’re angry but…”
Vanessa lashed out with her foot and caught Cutler on the shin. The blow should have hurt like hell but he didn’t move.
“We don’t have time for this, Vanessa. You’re in great danger.”
Vanessa tried to kick Cutler again, but he stepped out of range and she writhed with frustration.
“Please calm down. I know Rice has convinced you that he was a member of some secret group that your father ran, but it’s not true. Carl Rice is a seriously disturbed man.”
“Tell this ape to get his hands off me.”
“I can’t while you’re like this. Now, please, tell me where Rice has gone.”
“So you can kill him?”
“So we can capture him and return him to custody. Do you realize how much trouble you’re in? You broke a killer out of jail.”
“The General made him a killer.”
“You’ve got that all wrong. I was in charge of Carl’s first mission in Vietnam. We lost two men and Carl was in the middle of some terrible combat. He couldn’t take it. He cracked up and had to be hospitalized. I don’t think he ever recovered.”
“No. Carl told me about that mission. He was very brave…”
“That’s true, but a lot of brave men have breakdowns after combat situations. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. For Carl, though…Well, I’m no shrink, but I guess he made up this fantasy world with this secret unit so he could handle it. He was at the language school until the army discovered how sick he really is and discharged him.”
“No. Those army records are false. My father made them up,” Vanessa said, but some doubt had softened her conviction.
“Look, we really don’t have time to discuss this now. Carl Rice is out there and he’s armed. He killed two policemen and two of my men at your house. I’ve got to get you to safety before he hurts you or any more of my men. So where is he?”
Vanessa was confused, but she was determined to protect Carl.
“I have no idea where Carl is. We split up. I told him to go. I knew I’d slow him down.”
Cutler studied her for a moment and Vanessa held her breath.
“Okay, I believe you,” Cutler said. “Carl’s got to be out of practice. My boys will find him soon enough.”
Sam looked at the man who was holding Vanessa. “Bring her to the car, and I’ll join the hunt.”
“How did you find us?” Vanessa asked to stall for time, knowing that every minute might help Carl get away.
“You made it easy. Remember when you called me from your hotel to tell me that you were okay?”
Vanessa nodded.
“After you hung up I hit Star 69 and read out your number. A pleasant young woman told me that I had reached the Portland Hilton. Once I knew where you were, one of my men followed you to your car and put a tracking device on it.”
“So that’s how you knew we were on that logging road behind Ami’s house,” Vanessa said.
Instead of answering, Sam Cutler nodded to the man who was holding Vanessa and she felt a needle prick her skin. She wanted to ask Sam what he’d done, but the words wouldn’t come. Seconds later, she was unconscious in her captor’s arms
Vanessa was semiconscious and disoriented when the car stopped. She thought she heard a small plane engine but couldn’t be certain that she wasn’t imagining the sound. The back door of the car opened. Cool air swept in and swept away a little more of the drug’s effects. Before she could gather her wits, strong hands grabbed her and she was lifted out of the car. She stood unsteadily and looked around. The sun was just rising behind a hangar at a small airport. Several yards across the tarmac stood a black helicopter with a Computex logo.
“She’s coming out of it,” said the man who was propping her up.
“That’s okay,” Sam Cutler answered. “She’s still too groggy to cause trouble. I’ll give her a booster shot before we take off.”
Vanessa was led across the tarmac. As she was lifted into the copter, Cutler pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a number.
“Mission accomplished,” he told the person on the other end of the line. “See you tomorrow.”
Cutler jumped into the copter and took the seat beside Vanessa.
“Where are we going?” she mumbled as Cutler strapped her in.
“Home,” Sam answered. Then Vanessa felt a needle prick her skin and once again she slid into a velvet darkness that lifted hours later when the chopper set down on the helipad at her father’s estate. Moments later, she was helped out of the plane and led across the lawn to the rear of the mansion. She knew she was home, but it felt as if she were dreaming.
“We’ve got a room waiting for you,” Cutler said as he helped her up the back staircase to the second floor and down the hall to a room that had been used by the maids when her mother was alive. The General’s staff was all male and former military.
“Your father is campaigning in Cleveland,” Sam said as he took off her clothes and put her into a pair of pajamas. She vaguely recognized them as nightclothes she’d worn when she still lived at home. “He’ll be here tomorrow and you two can get reacquainted. He’s really worried about you.”
Sam lifted the covers and helped Vanessa under them. It felt so good to lie down on soft sheets. Sam whispered, “Get a good rest, Van.” Then there was another needle prick and the door closed. Vanessa heard a lock click into place. The last thought she had before she drifted off was that her father had kept her pajamas all these years.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
It was almost six-thirty when the strategy session ended at police headquarters. Adrenaline had kept Ami alert for hours, but Brendan Kirkpatrick saw her eyelids droop and her head nod more than once.
“You must be wasted,” he said.
“It’s starting to catch up with me,” she conceded with a weary smile.
“I’ve arranged a room for you at the Heathman,” Brendan said, naming a fine hotel that was only a few blocks from the Justice Center.
Ami looked alarmed. “I can’t afford to stay there.”
“Don’t worry. The county is paying the tab until we’re sure that it’s safe for you and your son to go home. I also asked a policewoman to pick up some of your clothes from your house. They’re in your hotel room along with your toothbrush, a comb and brush, and some other stuff from your bathroom. She also packed some of your son’s clothes. If you need anything else, I’ll send you home with a police escort.”
“Thank you, Brendan.”
“Hey, you’re an important witness.”
“It was very thoughtful.”
“I’m glad you approve. Just don’t drink too much booze from the minibar.”
“I don’t think I have the strength to open it, right now.”
“Then I’d better walk you over to the hotel.”
“You don�
��t have to do that.”
“I know, but I’m starving and we can both use some breakfast.”
Ami had not realized how hungry she was until Brendan mentioned eating. Suddenly the prospect of a decent meal and clean sheets sounded like heaven.
Outside the Justice Center commuters were drifting into downtown Portland, but the streets were still quite empty. There were no lines at the parking garages, and only a few pedestrians, many clutching steaming lattes, walked toward their office buildings. Ami paused and blinked in the sunshine. She found the cool breeze blowing inland from the Willamette River refreshing after being cooped up in the interrogation room all night.
“It feels good to move,” Brendan said.
“It would feel better to sleep.”
“I know what you mean, but I don’t think I’ll be indulging in that luxury much until we catch Rice.”
Brendan was being so nice that Ami felt guilty about not telling him that Carl and Vanessa were staying at the cabin. She had debated telling him where to find the fugitives more than once since walking into the Justice Center, but-despite what Hobson said-she believed that Carl and Vanessa had risked their lives to save her and she wasn’t prepared to give them up.
“Do you agree with Hobson’s take on what happened at my house-that Wingate sent men to rescue Vanessa and Carl killed them and the officers?”
“It makes sense.”
“Why do you think Carl let me live? Why kill Dr. French and the policemen and not me?”
“Who knows how the mind of someone with his mental wiring works? Maybe French said something that made Rice think he was working with Wingate. Maybe Rice distrusts psychiatrists but sees you as one of the good guys.”
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