“Maybe. He’s a brilliant young man, if a bit…immature.”
“So it is something Vanderhoven was working on at Cranesbrook?”
He shook his head. “I assure you, we don’t have such a thing in development. And I would know.”
“Not that you would tell me if you did.”
“No, probably not.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “But I’m curious.”
“About what?”
“If we were developing such a drug, as you say, what would be the purpose? It seems that there’s enough emotion in the world. Why would we want to amplify it?”
Rand thought of the scene outside Maritime Lullaby. It hadn’t just been him and Echo. The St. Stephens cop hadn’t been able to draw his gun. The victims of the car crash had beaten the pulp out of one another. “Extreme emotion can debilitate.”
“So you’re thinking this amplification could be used as a weapon?”
“That’s what you do at Cranesbrook, isn’t it? Create chemical weapons for the government?”
“We do a great many things.”
“For the Department of Defense.”
He nodded his head to the side, conceding the issue. “They are a client.”
“Is that what Project Cypress is? A way to use the enemy’s emotions to bring them to their knees?”
Ulrich chuckled and shook his head. “I’m afraid you’ve been reading far too much science fiction, Detective. The DOD would never weaponize emotions. Emotions are far too unpredictable.”
Rand couldn’t disagree there. “So what is this chemical agent, Dr. Ulrich? And why does your lab technician have it?”
“Wesley Vanderhoven?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know of a chemical agent that can amplify emotions in others. Sorry. And as for Wesley Vanderhoven, I can’t say I understand where he’s coming from anymore. I wish I did.”
ECHO CURLED ON HER COUCH, clutching Zoe’s stuffed bear to her chest. She looked at the officer drinking coffee and nibbling cookies and cakes neighbors had dropped off to help with her ordeal.
Rand had made sure she had someone with her. She couldn’t even take control of protecting herself and monitoring the phone. She’d never felt so helpless. And considering her life lately, that was saying a lot.
A knock sounded on the door. A rap so light she almost missed it.
The officer pushed back from the table.
“I can get it.” Probably a neighbor with more carbohydrates. She thrust herself up from the couch and crossed to the front window. Pulling the front drapery aside, she peeked out into the waning afternoon light.
A young woman with short blond hair stood on the front step. Dressed in jeans and a poncho, she rubbed her arms as if she was cold. Or nervous.
The officer pulled open the door.
Echo stepped up beside him. “Hello?”
The woman nodded to the officer and turned nervous eyes on Echo. “Ms. Sloane? I was wondering if I could talk to you.”
The woman looked very familiar, but for the life of her, Echo couldn’t place where she’d seen her. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
Again, she looked at the officer, as if she might want to bolt instead of admitting her name to the police. “I sort of met you at the Beech Grove Clinic.”
Her face registered in Echo’s mind, along with a whiff of lemon in the air. It was the disheveled blonde they’d met coming out of Wes Vanderhoven’s room. She didn’t look so disheveled now. Now she looked worried. And obviously shaken by the officer’s presence.
“Yes, I remember. It’s nice of you to drop by.” Echo glanced at the officer then back to the woman. “You know, I’m hungry for crab cakes and French fries. There’s this great seafood place just two blocks down that is supposed to have wonderful greasy food. Do you want to walk down there with me?”
The woman nodded her cropped blond head. “Sure.”
Echo glanced up at the officer. The thought of eating made her sick to her stomach. But she feigned what she hoped was a hungry look. “Can I get you something? You can’t live on cakes and cookies alone.”
He laid a hand on his fit belly. “No, thanks. I’ve eaten enough for a week. But take your cell phone. I might need to get in touch.”
The phone. She let out a breath. She was glad Rand hadn’t given the cop instructions to keep her in sight at all times. Of course, what would be the point? If Vanderhoven wanted to reach her, he could do so anytime he wanted—even if her house was full of cops.
Tucking her cell into her purse, Echo and the woman started to walk the two blocks to Sam’s Crab Shack. “What is your name?” Echo asked.
“Ashley Kromm.”
“What did you want to talk to me about, Ashley?”
“I was fired from Beech Grove today.”
“Fired? Why?”
“Nurse Dumont wouldn’t say. But I think it’s because I saw stuff I wasn’t supposed to. My grandmother urged me to tell someone.”
“What did you see?”
“I heard the detective you were with asking Dr. Morton about Mr. Darnell. About them keeping his arms and legs tied.”
“Yes?”
“I cared for him several times. He was tied. Even when he was asleep.”
“Was he violent, like the doctor said?”
She shook her head. “He was when they brought him in. Wesley was, too. But even after they quieted down, they were tied.”
Rand would want to hear that. Maybe Ashley’s testimony to that would be enough to charge the doctor for something. “Will you tell the detective about this?”
“I don’t know…”
“Doctor Morton and Nurse Dumont have to be stopped, Ashley. They have to be held accountable for what they’ve done. You could make sure they are.”
“I…I really can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because they fired me. They’ll just say I’m trying to get back at them.”
Echo narrowed her eyes. Ashley must not be telling her everything. Otherwise, the young nurse’s logic didn’t make much sense. “But they fired you for seeing their illegal activities. You’re obligated to blow the whistle.”
They stopped on a footbridge over a stream. Ashley shifted her weight from one foot to the other, as if she was reconsidering their whole discussion.
Echo grew more uneasy with each second that passed. “That is why they fired you, right?”
“Well, not entirely.”
“What haven’t you told me?”
Ashley’s cheeks flushed with pink.
Echo touched Ashley’s arm. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”
Ashley leaned against the railing and shifted her feet. “It was Nurse Dumont. She caught me doing something I shouldn’t have done.”
“What?”
“I made love with a patient.” She held up her hands in an attempt to head off Echo’s judgments. “But it wasn’t something lewd and disgusting, like Dumont said. And it wasn’t a one-time fling, either. He needs me. We really care for each other. He’s so smart. And he thinks I’m beautiful.”
Echo gripped the bridge’s narrow steel rail. The cold numbed her hand and traveled up her arm. “The patient was Wesley Vanderhoven, wasn’t it? That’s why you looked so disheveled the day I saw you at Beech Grove. You were…making love before we got there.”
Dipping her chin, Ashley stared at the water rushing in the stream below.
It all made sense. Far too much sense, if you asked Echo. “So he used it on you.”
“Used what?”
Echo studied Ashley’s pink-stained cheeks. The poor woman was infatuated with Vanderhoven. She thought the uncontrollable feelings he inspired in her were real attraction. Even love. In reality, Vanderhoven had just started the spark with a soft-porn movie and fanned the flames from there.
Echo could hardly tell Ashley her feelings weren’t real. Especially since she had no idea what was real,
exactly. Or how to describe what Vanderhoven was doing.
“Used what?” Ashley repeated.
Echo shook her head. “Nothing. Where is Wesley now?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since this morning when he borrowed my car.”
How convenient for Vanderhoven. A cute blond nurse who would provide sex and a vehicle. Echo set her purse on the railing and dug inside for a card. “If you see him, I want you to call me. Right away. Okay?” She located a card and handed it to Ashley.
Ashley looked at it as if Echo offered a poisoned apple. “Why? Is he in trouble?”
“He might have stolen a very dangerous chemical. A chemical he’s used to commit crimes.”
“Crimes?” Ashley wrinkled her nose. “Wesley wouldn’t commit crimes.”
Echo took a deep breath. Now she knew how Rand felt trying to convince her that Bray was guilty of wrongdoing. The only difference was that Wes Vanderhoven actually was guilty. “I believe Wesley kidnapped my baby.”
“No.”
Echo nodded. “I was there. He had his face covered by a dark ski mask, but I’m pretty sure it was Wesley.”
“You’re lying!” Ashley swiped at the card, knocking it from Echo’s grip. Her hand hit Echo’s purse, sending it over the railing.
Echo watched her black vinyl bag splash into the water below.
“I don’t believe you. I’ll never believe you.” Ashley turned and raced over the bridge and turned down a side street.
Echo started after her. “Ashley, wait!”
But Ashley was already gone.
Chapter Twelve
“Where is she?” Rand focused on the St. Stephens officer sitting alone in Echo’s kitchen. He’d been worried about Echo all evening, wanting to race back to her house to make sure she was all right. Yet at the same time, he wanted to stay away. After their run-in with Vanderhoven, he’d revealed more than he should have. He couldn’t help it. He was beginning to think that where Echo was concerned, his usual defenses and cool logic were useless.
But after his meeting with Ulrich and tying up other business with the investigation that he absolutely had to attend to, his worry for her had won out. It had never occurred to him, now that he was finally here, that she would be gone.
“She went to get something to eat,” the officer answered.
Rand eyed Echo’s kitchen. Cakes and cookies and every kind of pie he could imagine heaped the countertops. And he happened to know the refrigerator was equally filled with casseroles. The whole neighborhood had poured out its support for Echo in the form of food. If she wanted something to eat, the last place she needed to go was out.
Of course, knowing Echo the way he was starting to, he could imagine her going on an errand just to keep herself feeling occupied and useful. But that didn’t mean the cop should have allowed it. “You let her go out alone?”
“A friend stopped by. They two of them went together.”
“A friend? What was the name?”
“Didn’t ask.”
“You let her go out with just anyone?”
The cop gave him a incredulous look. “I’m not her father, and she’s not in protective custody. I didn’t know I should have tied her down.”
Rand shook his head. He was getting out of hand. He was caring too much. Worrying too much. After what had happened this afternoon, he could hardly see straight. “Sorry.”
The cop held up a hand, warding off more apologies. “The friend was a woman. Youngish. Short blond hair. She said something about having met Echo at Beech Grove, whatever that is.”
Beech Grove? The young nurse? The one who had smelled like lemon?
Leave it to Echo to turn a simple run for food into an investigation. And seeing that the nurse worked for Dr. Morton, it could prove to be a dangerous investigation.
The beat of his pulse rose in his ears. “Does Echo have her cell?”
“Yeah.”
Rand pulled out his own cell phone and punched in her number, a number he knew by heart though he’d never called it. The phone on the other end rang and rang. No answer. No voice mail.
Adrenaline spiked his blood like a shot of espresso. He was about to try again when Echo’s home phone rang.
Rand lunged to pick up the receiver and brought it to his ear. He wanted to shout Echo’s name, demand to know where she was, that she was okay. Instead he took a deep breath. “Sloane residence.”
A click sounded and the line went dead.
Damn.
Behind him, the front door opened. Echo stepped inside.
Rand spun around. “Where the hell have you been?” He crossed the room in four strides.
Echo searched his face, her eyes widening with alarm. “What happened?”
“You missed a phone call.”
“The kidnapper?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Rand glanced up at the cop in the kitchen and willed his heart rate to slow. “Got a number?”
The cop leaned down to read the display on Echo’s Caller ID. “Got it. Not the same number. It’s a cell phone, though.” He read off the digits.
Rand had seen that number recently. And he had a hunch where. He pulled out his notebook and found the card he’d taken at Cranesbrook. “That’s Claire Fanshaw’s cell.”
“Claire Fanshaw?” Echo repeated. “That’s the woman Bray argued with. The woman from Cranesbrook.”
“And we can only hope she has some information.” Rand pulled out his phone and punched in the number, glad to have something to focus on that didn’t concern Echo directly. Or his worry for her. The phone rang, finally ending with a voice-mail message. He disconnected without leaving a word.
“Aren’t you going to ask why she called?”
He’d considered it, but if Claire didn’t pick up after just having called, it probably meant her fleeting moment of trust and cooperation was gone. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow morning. Claire has a talent for lying. It’s always better to deal with someone like that in person rather than on the phone.”
“No wonder Bray didn’t like her. Ever since our dad, he’s hated people who lie.”
Rand didn’t think he’d bring up the way Brayden had lied to Echo about the state of his finances. The last thing he needed was to get into another no-win argument with her over her brother. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“Oh.” She raised her purse in front of him. “Ashley Kromm knocked it into the stream a couple of blocks down. My phone drowned.”
“Ashley Kromm is the nurse? The one we saw leaving Vanderhoven’s room?”
She nodded and filled him in on the story of Ashley Kromm. “She wouldn’t listen to me. She might know where Vanderhoven is right now. She might be in danger. But she wouldn’t tell me a thing. She just ran.” She lowered herself to the couch. Pulling her legs up under her, she pulled Zoe’s stuffed toy onto her lap.
Rand fought the urge to sit beside her.
“McClellan? Hate to interrupt, but my shift is over.”
Rand nodded to the officer. “I’ll take over. Go ahead.”
As soon as the cop left, Rand turned back to Echo. She looked small and vulnerable, curled on the couch holding that stuffed seahorse that had to have come from Maritime Lullaby. He ached to wrap her in his arms. Exactly what he couldn’t do. “You’re still worrying about Ashley Kromm, aren’t you?”
“Vanderhoven can do anything he wants to her. He probably doesn’t even have to use his emotion amplification drug. She thinks she’s in love with him. She won’t believe anything I said.”
He nodded.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
He doubted it. He didn’t even know what he was thinking half the time. Not anymore. “What am I thinking?”
“That I have the same kind of blind allegiance to my brother.”
He might have thought that. If he’d had some distance. If he could rip his focus from the way she curled her legs under her on the couch, the way she held on to that seah
orse, the openness and vulnerability that radiated from her. “I know you love your brother, Echo. I know how much he means to you. I would never belittle that.”
“So how do you deal with all of this?”
He perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of her, close enough to look into her eyes, yet far enough to keep the temptation of touching her on the far edge of his mind. “Deal with what?”
“Knowing all these horrible things might be happening and being helpless to control them?”
“I focus on what I can do.”
“And the rest doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course it does.” More than she could know. “But dwelling on it isn’t going to help.”
She let out a heavy breath. “I hate it. Being helpless. It makes me feel like I did as a kid.”
From what she’d let slip before, he could guess the time in her childhood she was referring to. “When your dad left.”
She pressed her lips together in a sad smile.
He couldn’t imagine any man leaving Echo. Not her father, and not the father of her baby. She was so open and honest and beautiful. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could look into those tender gray eyes and then turn around and deliberately cause her pain.
He, on the other hand, was coming from a very different place. A very different background. “In my family, things would have been better if my father had left.”
She lowered her brows and searched his face. “What did he do?”
He didn’t realize he’d mentioned his father out loud until she spoke. He waved her question away. “That was a stupid thing to say. Forget it.”
“Not stupid. You can tell me.”
He’d never talked about it. Not with the cops who’d come to the door that night. Not with the handful of shrinks he’d been forced to see afterward. Not even with his mother. He’d hated the sympathetic looks. The pity. The compassion he didn’t begin to deserve. But something inside him wanted to tell Echo.
All the more reason he shouldn’t. “Really, it’s nothing. I just didn’t get along with my old man.”
“Did he hit you?”
“Hit me? No. He was a good guy. A good cop.”
“The reason you went into law enforcement?”
Critical Exposure Page 11