Critical Exposure

by Ann Voss Peterson

Rand touched a cool finger to her chin and guided her to face him. “You’re going to make those lists of names and addresses. I’m going to find your brother. And your baby. You just have to trust me.”

  HE COULDN’T STAND the idea of the pain she must be going through. He only wished he could make it easier. Or save her from it altogether. But all he could do was his best. And the way things were going, his best was woefully short of good enough.

  He’d already told Echo about the dogs losing Zoe’s scent on the water. And she’d faced the lack of fingerprints with a stiff upper lip. What he didn’t want to tell her was that the roadblocks and neighborhood canvas hadn’t turned up anything yet, either.

  And now…he looked back down at the report in his hand, the debrief with Officer Woodard from the St. Stephens Police Department. In it, he mentioned a wave of strong emotion, an urge to cry. But he’d attributed it to his mother’s recent illness.

  But the worst of it was Rand couldn’t get more information from him. He couldn’t talk to him about his experience. In what the St. Stephens PD assumed was a fit of grief and guilt over Maxie’s death, Officer Woodard had hanged himself this afternoon. He’d been swept away by emotion once again, and only Rand understood what that meant.

  Whoever had killed Maxie had taken another victim. And he was likely the same man who had stolen Echo’s sweet little child. The same man who was after Bray Sloane.

  The whole thing revolved around Project Cypress, Cranesbrook Associates and Beech Grove. And if Rand was going to have a shot at keeping his promise to Echo, he had to start there.

  Checking to make sure that Echo was concentrating on her list-making and not on him, he approached one of the dark-suited FBI agents. Unease shifted in Rand’s gut. He never liked to share too much with the feds. Especially when they could be so damn stingy with sharing the information under their control. But since he didn’t have any other avenues opening before him, he was going to have to take some risks. “Hey, Freemont.”

  Based at the district office in Baltimore, Jim Freemont had turned out to be a decent guy on previous cases. Decent enough that he might just do Rand a little favor, considering the circumstances.

  Sipping at coffee with so much cream it was lighter than his skin tone, Jim nodded. “Rough case.”

  “Especially since it dovetails with another rough case we’ve been wrestling with.”

  “Oh? What case is that?”

  “Echo’s brother, Brayden Sloane, disappeared after an explosion at a chemical research facility in the area. Place called Cranesbrook Associates.”

  “The same brother named as ransom for the baby?”

  “The same. We have reason to believe the explosion wasn’t an accident.”

  Freemont waited for Rand to go on.

  “They were working on something called Project Cypress in the lab where the explosion took place. It might help if someone could nose around, sniff out what Project Cypress was or who it was for.”

  “It’s a contract with Washington?”

  Rand shrugged. “Cranesbrook often does work for Washington.”

  “You might be out of luck, then. I’m assuming it’s pretty hush-hush if you haven’t figured out what it is already.”

  Rand gave a nod.

  Freemont shook his head. “Even if I ask the right questions, I can only get so many answers.”

  “I know the chances are slim. But Zoe Sloane’s chances are getting slimmer with each hour that passes. Anything you can find out could help. If I could get an idea of what the purpose is behind the project, I might be able to find out who the players are.”

  “And who is trying to smoke out Sloane?”

  “Right.”

  Freemont glanced at Echo, then gave a reluctant nod. “I have a pretty good nose. Let me make a few calls.”

  “I appreciate it.” Rand slapped Freemont on the shoulder and headed for the door. While Freemont was sniffing out information about Cranesbrook, he was going to try to solidify the Cranesbrook-Beech Grove connection. He had an appointment to keep with a psychiatrist.

  Not the one who was expecting him.

  Chapter Seven

  Echo knew she was supposed to be too distraught to notice, but when Rand slipped out the door, she was right on his heels. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m checking up on some leads.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  He raised his brows, as if she’d just said the most outrageous thing he’d heard in his life. “Not necessary.”

  “I need to do something to find Zoe, Rand. If I sit here any longer, I’m going to go crazy.”

  “You’ve done a lot. And you have more to do. Things you need to do here at home.”

  “What?”

  “Answering questions. Giving us names and addresses of anyone who was interested in Zoe. Just generally being available. Only you can do those things.”

  Frustration stormed her nerves. The feeling of being out of control. A feeling she’d hated since she was a child. “I’ve already given you everything I have.”

  “You might recall more. People, circumstances—things that might have a bearing on the case that you didn’t remember at first.”

  “I can tell you if I think of anything.”

  “What if the kidnapper calls back?”

  Her stomach quivered at the thought. She would never forget that creepy, electronically altered voice. The voice of the bastard that took her Zoe. “Do you think he will call back?”

  He looked away from her. “Never know.”

  “You don’t think he will any more than I do. Not yet, anyway. Besides, I have my cell phone with me. I can forward my calls.”

  He blew a breath through tight lips, the stream of air misting slightly in the cool evening.

  “You can’t think of any other reasons I can’t go, can you?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “I feel so helpless sitting here. I can’t find Zoe. I can’t help Bray.” She shook her head. She had to make him understand how doing nothing was eating her up. “It reminds me of when I was a kid. When Bray and I used to sit by the window and watch for Dad to come home. Only day after day passed, and he never came.”

  “I’m sorry. Darnell told me your father left, but not how.”

  “He just went out one day and never came back. And no matter how hard I wished he would, no matter how long Bray and I waited, it made no difference.” She looked out at the street. Houses lined the other side, their shadows growing impossibly deep and dark as the sun slipped below the horizon. “All I can think about is Zoe being out there somewhere. Cold. Hungry. Scared. And I can’t warm her and feed her. I can’t hold her and sing her songs and tell her everything is going to be okay. I can’t even tell myself that. At least, I can’t believe it.”

  Lines dug into Rand’s forehead. “Driving around with me isn’t going to change any of that.”

  “It’ll make me feel better. It’ll make me feel like I’m doing something to find her.”

  He let out a heavy sigh. Striding to his blue sedan, he opened the passenger door. “We’re just making one stop. Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to bring more pressure to bear on this guy than I’ve managed so far.”

  It didn’t take long for Rand to drive them to a little restaurant along the water by the name of Moncelli’s Seafood and Steak. Echo had heard wonderful things about the place, though since even McDonald’s was a strain on her budget, she never dined at a place this fancy. The dining room lived up to its reputation. Candlelight and linen, fresh flowers and the most elegantly dressed diners. She felt out of place as soon as she stepped inside.

  Of course that would never stop her.

  “Table for two, sir?”

  Rand waved off the host. “We’re not staying. Just delivering a message to one of your diners.” He stepped forward into the open dining room and strode for a table occupied by a short man with thinning blond hair. Judging from the crème de menthe on the rocks in his hand
and the snifter across the table, he and a companion had reached dessert.

  “Hello, Doctor.”

  Dr. Morton’s eyes bugged for a second before he reasserted control. “Detective.” He glanced at Echo.

  “This is Echo Sloane.”

  Morton nodded. Recognition or just politeness, Echo couldn’t tell.

  Rand pulled out a chair for Echo and folded into one himself. “Where were you at around eleven this morning, Doctor?”

  Morton snorted a derisive laugh. “I’ve already explained my whereabouts to your Detective Farrell about an hour ago. Maybe you should demand he share his notes.”

  “I know you talked to Farrell. Who do you think told me where I could find you?”

  Echo looked from Dr. Morton to Rand. If Morton had already been questioned by police, what did Rand hope to accomplish by talking to him again?

  “This is harassment.”

  “Answer the question.”

  “I was sailing on the Chesapeake. I have a rock-solid alibi. I did not kidnap some baby.”

  Echo thrust out her chin. “Not some baby. My baby.”

  He arched bushy blond brows. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. But I don’t have any idea where your baby is, miss. I can’t help you. Now, if the two of you don’t mind, I’ve answered enough questions for one meal.”

  “Kidnapping is a major felony. Did you know that if that baby is taken across state lines, it becomes a federal case? Not that we waited for that to happen before we requested the assistance of the FBI.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Are you conducting experiments on the residents of Beech Grove?”

  “What?”

  “You heard the question, Doctor.”

  “I just can’t believe what I heard.”

  “Maybe you’d like to take a trip to the state police barracks and give me a chance to fully explain it to you.”

  Morton glanced up as if looking for his dining companion. “I’ve heard all I need to hear.”

  “But you haven’t answered the question.”

  “No. We’re not conducting experiments on our residents. I resent you even implying something like that.”

  “I’ve heard from a reliable source that there have been some strange emotional phenomena—”

  “Let me guess, Gage Darnell told you that.” He leaned forward, keeping his voice low in an obvious attempt to prevent the surrounding diners from hearing. “Mr. Darnell came to us in a paranoid condition. He was disoriented, violent. He kept ripping the IV from his hand. We only secured him so he wouldn’t hurt himself. He was never a prisoner. And he was never experimented on.”

  “There is evidence—”

  “Evidence? Except for what Gage Darnell thought he experienced, you have no evidence. You’ve turned our clinic upside down, and you’ve found nothing. And if you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to have my lawyer file a suit against you for harassment.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m done talking.”

  Echo glanced at Rand. Why didn’t he say something about his own experience? Or hers? Why didn’t he back Morton against a wall? “That same emotional phenomenon was used when my baby was kidnapped.”

  Morton narrowed his eyes on her. “Really? Do you have details?”

  Rand stared at her.

  She wasn’t sure if he shook his head or not, but she wasn’t about to stop either way. Now that she’d gotten Morton’s attention, she wanted some answers about Zoe. And she didn’t plan to return to her living room until she’d accomplished something toward finding her daughter. That was why she was here. “When I walked in the door, my babysitter was lying on the floor, sobbing. She was so distraught, she could hardly tell me that a man was in my daughter’s room only feet away.”

  “The experience sounds very upsetting. Why do you think that response was abnormal or had anything to do with Beech Grove?”

  “Because Rand and I both felt similar things there.”

  Rand shot to his feet. “We have to go.”

  “Similar things? Can you describe your feelings?” The doctor clutched his glass and leaned toward her over the table.

  “Echo,” Rand said in a low voice. “Now.”

  She looked at Rand and then back to Dr. Morton. Why did he want to leave so badly? Couldn’t he see they hadn’t gotten any answers yet?

  “Trust me,” he said.

  She let out a long breath, feeling Rand’s eyes drill into her. Trust him. Easier said than done.

  But in the last few hours, he’d been there for her. Trying to get Zoe back. Trying to help her cope. He’d even agreed to take her on this interview with him, something he didn’t have to do. She supposed the least she could do was give him the benefit of the doubt….

  As long as he explained himself before they reached the car.

  RAND HAD NEVER BEEN more grateful to see someone get up from a table. Here he’d been worried about Echo becoming upset, not being able to handle the pressure of talking to Morton after losing her baby just hours before. Echo Sloane might be soft and sweet on the outside, but she had a frame of steel underneath. He should have spent more time explaining the situation to her and less time worrying.

  Rand looked down on Dr. Morton. “I’ll tell my supervisor to expect your complaint. And, Morton?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “If I find anything at all connecting you to the kidnapping, I’ll give you some fuel for those ha rassment charges. You thought your clinic was turned upside down before, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” Nodding to Echo, he led her toward the exit.

  She stopped just on the other side of the hostess stand. “What’s going on? He might have told us something if you hadn’t cut the interview short.”

  “I didn’t come here to tell him everything we suspect.”

  “But I thought you wanted answers. I thought you wanted to find out what Morton knew about the emotional amplification.”

  “I wanted him to worry about what we knew, that we were able to tie it to the kidnapping.”

  “Well, now he has something to worry about.”

  “No, now he knows we’re going on nothing but our own feelings. Feelings aren’t evidence.”

  “Oh.” She let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I just wanted answers so badly. Did I blow it?”

  Across the dining room, an impeccably groomed man with dark, parted hair and expensive shoes wove through tables. Martin Kelso smiled at a waitress, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners.

  Rand watched him stop at Morton’s table, slip into a seat and pick up his brandy snifter. By stopping here in the entrance, Echo had given him the answer to a very important question. “No, you didn’t blow it.”

  Echo followed his gaze. “Who is he?”

  “Martin Kelso, acting president of Cranesbrook Associates. The question is, why is he having dinner with Morton? And why didn’t they want us to know about it?”

  RAND FOUND Special Agent Freemont as soon as he and Echo walked in the door. If he could find out what Project Cypress was or at least whom it was for, maybe he could determine what the dinner between Kelso and Morton meant.

  He glanced at Echo. Freemont would never talk in front of her. “Find out anything?”

  He shook his head. “No calls. But then, we didn’t expect another one.”

  Next to Rand, Echo sucked in a shaky breath.

  Rand touched her elbow. “Can you excuse us for a second? We have some other business to discuss.”

  She searched his eyes, no doubt trying to figure out what other business he could possibly have that was so important. Finally she nodded and walked down the hall to the bedrooms.

  Rand let out a breath. He knew Echo didn’t trust anyone. At least, no one but her brother. She’d obviously been put through the wringer in the past. But in the last few hours, it seemed she’d started to trust him. The last thing he wanted to do was let her down.

  He focused on Freemont. “How did y
our sniffing go?”

  “I talked to my contact. He directed me to a friend in the DOD.”

  The Department of Defense? Rand’s pulse started knocking double time. “So Project Cypress is a weapon.”

  “I didn’t say that. In fact, I didn’t say anything about this matter. Not a single word.”

  The speed of Rand’s pulse bumped up to triple time. “Did you hear anything about a Dr. Morton or the Beech Grove Clinic doing testing for Cranesbrook?”

  “Morton? Don’t know him. But I doubt he has the security clearance needed to breathe the same air as someone involved in this project.”

  “How about on the side? Without the DOD’s knowledge?”

  Freemont shook his head. “No way. Cranesbrook management would have to be crazy to take a chance like that. This is big-time stuff.”

  Rand nodded. Morton might not have a connection that easy to find, but Rand knew it was there. “Is this thing big enough to kill to keep it quiet?”

  Freemont gave a short nod.

  “What does Project Cypress do?”

  Freemont smiled as if he’d caught Rand trying to slip by a fast one. “I told you, McClellan. I can’t talk about it, even if I knew.”

  “Is it an emotional agent of some sort? Some thing that amplifies human emotion? Drives the enemy out of their minds?”

  “I’ve told you all I know.”

  “Come on, Freemont,” Rand urged. He hated to pressure the guy to step out on a limb he obviously worried would break. But this was important. Life and death. “You said you’d try to help.”

  “And I tried. That’s all I can do.”

  Damn the tight-lipped federal government. Rand had dealt with it before. But he’d never been as frustrated as he was now.

  Still, it wasn’t Freemont who was stonewalling. Rand knew that. He’d probably revealed more than he should. “I appreciate you checking for me.”

  Freemont nodded. “If I were you, I’d be quiet about this. And careful.”

  A phone rang, cutting through the ominous rumble of Freemont’s warning. Rand’s cell. He flipped it open. “McClellan.” Rand could feel Echo’s eyes on him from across the room.