Blind Run

by Patricia Lewin

  He found Ethan on the porch, a park map spread out in front of him. From the position of the sun, Danny figured Sydney had been gone for hours. He sat on the steps. “Isn’t it time she was back?”

  Ethan’s idea of a response was to scowl.

  In Danny’s opinion, Ethan was worse than the Keepers. They at least pretended to be nice while telling their lies. Ethan didn’t even do that. He didn’t fake anything, least of all that he wanted Danny or his sister anywhere near him.

  If it weren’t for Callie, Danny would be long gone.

  “What are you looking for?” he asked, more to irritate Ethan than anything else.

  “Nothing.”

  “So why are you studying the map?”

  “I’m not . . .” Ethan sighed and glanced up for the first time. “I’m making sure I understand the area.”

  Anna had done the same thing. “Our position and the location of the nearest cities or towns. Roads and where they lead. That sort of thing?”

  “Yeah.” Ethan laughed abruptly and went back to his task. “That sort of thing.”

  Encouraged, Danny went on. “It’s always a good idea to know where you are, what’s around you, and the best exit points.” He waited for a response. When he didn’t get one, he added, “That’s what Anna said.”

  “She would know.”

  Danny remained quiet, for about five seconds. “What time is it?”

  “Give it a rest, Danny.”

  “I just want to know what time it is.”

  Ethan looked up. “Sydney will be back soon.”

  Would she? Danny wasn’t so sure. “I should have gone with her.”

  Ethan ignored him.

  Danny picked up a stick and poked at the dirt beneath his feet. A smile would probably crack Ethan’s face. The only time he’d come close was right before Sydney left for town. Callie had picked a handful of wildflowers from the woods behind the cabin. He’d almost smiled then. She had that effect on people. Even Anna had softened around her. Not that Callie’s sweetness did her any good. She was still sick all the time.

  As for Sydney, he didn’t know what to think of her. She was almost too nice. Some of the Keepers had been like that, and in the end they’d been liars, too. Danny had learned not to trust any of them. At least if Ethan decided to turn them over to the authorities, he’d just do it. He wouldn’t lie about it first. Danny wasn’t so sure about Sydney.

  She sure was taking a long time.

  He should have hid in the back of the Explorer or something. That would have been the safest thing to do. Instead, he was stuck here waiting.

  The sound of an approaching engine brought his head up as the black SUV pulled into the clearing. Danny sprang off the porch, but waited as Sydney shut off the engine and took her time getting out of the car. Behind him, the screen door slammed, and he glanced back and saw Callie on the porch. He smiled at her, then turned back toward Sydney, stopping when he saw the expression on her face.

  “Did you see my father?” he asked, suddenly afraid of the answer.

  She frowned. “Danny.”

  “Well, did you?” He took another step toward her. “Did you talk to him?”

  She folded her arms. “I talked to Timothy Mulligan.”

  Yes! He knew it. “Did you tell him Callie and I were here? When can we—”

  “Danny.” She shook her head. “I didn’t tell him about you.”

  “Why not?”

  A large hand settled on his shoulder. Ethan had come up behind him. Danny jerked away from the man’s touch, keeping his eyes on Sydney. “Why didn’t you tell him we were here?”

  “I’m sorry . . .”

  His stomach churned. “You’re lying.”

  “Timothy Mulligan doesn’t have any children.”

  “No.” Liar. He backed away, his heart pounding, his head ready to explode. Why was she doing this?

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why are you lying to me?” It came out as a scream.

  He continued to back away, looking at Ethan and Callie, then turned back to Sydney. She was a liar, just like all the rest, just like the Keepers. And Anna. He hated Sydney. He hated them all. His eyes stung, and he felt sick. Turning, he fled toward the woods, one word repeating in his head.

  Liar. Liar. Liar.

  ETHAN STEPPED FORWARD, stopping Sydney from following the boy. “Let him go. You can’t help him now.”

  Tears gathered in her eyes and she looked ready to bolt. Instead, she went to Callie and took her hands. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Callie said, with a sadness that twisted Ethan’s heart.

  “I know.” Sydney glanced toward the tree where Danny had retreated. “But I wish I could make it right.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “He’s not a very nice man.”

  Callie bit her lip, but her eyes remained dry. “Don’t worry about Danny, I’ll take care of him.”

  Sydney touched the girl’s cheek, a gesture Ethan had seen a million times when their son was alive. He closed his eyes briefly at the sudden ache the memory produced. He and Sydney had lost so much. Not only their son, but all the small things that had defined them as a family.

  “It’s okay,” Callie said, the child comforting the adult. “You tried.” Then she walked over to her brother.

  “Are you all right?” Ethan asked, taking his jacket from Sydney and tossing it over the porch railing.

  “I don’t know.” Her eyes remained on the two children. “I’d hoped . . .” She brought her gaze back to him. “It wasn’t a pleasant experience. Mulligan’s a jerk. I’m almost glad he didn’t claim them.”

  He reached for her, but she stepped back. Who could blame her, considering he’d kissed her the last time she’d let him near? It had been the craziest thing, and if he’d thought about it for half a second beforehand, he never would have done it. But it had just happened.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said. “I have something to tell you.”

  Once in the cabin, she dropped into the rough-hewn wooden chair. Ethan stayed near the door, giving her the space she needed. Though it was hard, when what he wanted to do was fold her into his arms. He hadn’t thought about much else since she’d left. One brief kiss, and his mind had ventured down roads where it didn’t belong. It wasn’t the smartest move he’d ever made, especially now when he needed all his concentration to keep them alive.

  “How was Callie? Any more coughing?”

  “Yeah, I gave her more of the cough syrup and a couple more aspirin.”

  “I’m worried about her.”

  “Kids get sick.”

  “I guess.” Though she didn’t look convinced, sitting with her elbows propped on the chair arm, her head resting on her hand. “This will sound strange, but I don’t think Danny is entirely wrong about Timothy Mulligan.”

  “You think Mulligan was lying?”

  “Not exactly.” She massaged her temples and told him about her conversation with Mulligan. When she mentioned asking him about donating to a sperm bank, Ethan realized she was on to something.

  “The most damning thing,” she said, “is that he acted like he’d been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.”

  “It would explain a lot. Or at least why his name is in Danny’s files at the Haven.”

  “There’s more, although the rest of this is even more speculative.” Again she rubbed at her temples. “Have you ever heard of James Cooley?”

  “Didn’t he start one of the first Internet companies, then sold it for a mint? A real eccentric.”

  “That’s him.” Sydney dug an aspirin bottle from her purse. “He’s worth millions, maybe billions.” She stood and crossed to the dresser, then rummaged through the cooler Ethan had brought in from the Explorer and pulled out a bottle of water. “No one really knows how much money he made, and I don’t even know if he’s still alive.” She swallowed the aspirin, then returned to the chair.

  Ethan moved
up behind her and slipped his hands beneath her hair. She stiffened, then relaxed as he began to work the tension from her neck. No wonder she had a headache. She felt tight enough to snap. As he kneaded first one and then another muscle, she let her head drop forward with a sigh.

  “God,” she said. “You always did have the best hands.”

  Ethan smiled to himself. How often had they performed this ritual after one of her grueling days? It had started while she was in med school and continued through her pregnancy to the days when she’d had her own practice. She would come home exhausted, and he’d start on her neck, working his way to her extremities until she was putty in his hands. Then they’d make love for hours, until neither of them could move.

  “I miss it,” he said softly. “I miss you.”

  She tensed immediately, her barriers slamming back into place as she pulled away from him. “Yes, well, leaving was your choice.” Her voice was hard.

  As if he needed reminding of how much he’d hurt her. “Sydney . . .”

  “Let’s get back to James Cooley.” She left the chair and moved to stand with her back against the dresser. “Shall we?”

  It wasn’t what he wanted, but he had little choice but to accept whatever parameters she set for their relationship. From now on, he’d keep his hands to himself. “If that’s the way you want it.”

  “It is.” She met his gaze for a moment, a spark of defiance in her eyes, but something else as well. Loneliness? Longing? He couldn’t be sure which. Then she went on, as if he hadn’t just put his hands on her, reminding them both of things better left in the past. “In the early eighties, Cooley started a sperm bank which only accepted donations from highly intelligent men. They were also very selective about whom they impregnated. The women had to be stable and married, with an IQ of over 140.”

  “Kind of narrows it down a bit, don’t you think?”

  “The idea was to create a more intelligent gene pool.”

  “And you think Timothy Mulligan made a donation?”

  “Cooley’s people searched for the right kind of donors, and Mulligan would have been a good candidate. High IQ.”

  There was a certain logic to the idea. “Nice theory, but that’s all it is.”

  “I know, but it makes sense and explains how Mulligan’s name got into Danny’s file. Plus, both the timing and location are right. Mulligan did his doctoral work at Caltech in the mid-eighties. Also, he’s so arrogant he might like the idea of creating more minds like his own. Especially if he doesn’t have to raise them himself.”

  Ethan thought about it and walked to the window to check on the kids. They were no longer on the swing, but Danny’s backpack rested against the porch support. They couldn’t have gone far. Making a quick visual sweep of the area, he breathed easier when he saw them sitting on a boulder near the woods.

  He’d told Sydney the truth earlier. No one had followed them from Texas. Not many people could track him when he wanted to get lost, and he’d been particularly vigilant on the drive north. He’d used cash for everything, switched license plates three times, and picked the less-traveled roads where a tail would be easy to spot. He’d even doubled back once, just to make sure. So he wasn’t expecting Ramirez, or whoever was after these children, to show up anytime soon. But he wasn’t taking any chances.

  Callie spotted him and waved.

  Absently, he raised a hand in response. If Sydney was right, where did that leave these kids?

  “Okay, let’s assume you’re onto something,” he said, watching as Callie led her brother back to the tire swing and got him to push her. “And Timothy Mulligan was a sperm donor. It doesn’t explain how Danny and Callie landed in a facility off the coast of Washington State.” Or why. “And it doesn’t shed any light on Danny’s story about kids disappearing.”

  “I know.” She sounded frustrated. “But it’s a start.”

  He turned away from the window. “We can check the facility’s records and . . .” He stopped abruptly, suddenly uneasy when she avoided his gaze. “What is it?”

  “We can’t do this alone, Ethan. We need help.”

  “Are you saying you want to turn them over, and let social services send them back to that island?”

  “Of course not. I know there’s something wrong here. I have no proof, but I believe those children are products of in vitro fertilization and that Timothy Mulligan may be their biological father.” She let out a short disgusted laugh. “Though I’m convinced he doesn’t have a clue.” Then she dismissed the statement with a wave, as if irrelevant. “But whoever their mother was, she’s either dead or has deserted them. I want to know which and why.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “I want to call my friend Charles in Dallas.”

  “We’ve been over this . . .”

  “Hear me out,” she insisted. “Charles has connections. He can access information about James Cooley and the Haven that you and I can’t touch.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that.”

  She crossed her arms. “Is this a male ego thing? Because if it is—”

  “It has nothing to do with ego.” Though he’d like to wring this Charles’s neck.

  “Good, because besides helping us with information, Charles can let my parents know I’m okay. They’re probably worried sick.”

  “It’s too risky.”

  “They won’t call the authorities, Ethan.”

  “Not on you.” He thought of the last time he’d seen his mother-in-law, at Nicky’s funeral, and how she’d looked at him over her grieving daughter’s shoulder. She’d known who to blame for her grandson’s death. “They’d turn me over in a minute.”

  “They wouldn’t do that.”

  “Look, Sydney, I’m really sorry about your folks. And you might be right that this Charles could help us.”

  “But?”

  “If we contact them, especially if they start digging into things, they’ll be at risk.” And he couldn’t put anyone else in danger, too many people had died already. “Someone wants this island kept quiet, and they’re not going to take it very well that we’re poking around.”

  She remained stubbornly quiet for a couple of seconds, then her entire body seemed to deflate. “You’re right, the less they know the better.”

  “And the less they’ll worry.”

  “That, too.” She pushed away from the dresser. “So what do we do?”

  “We head for Chicago. I’ll drop you and the kids off at a library where you can get on the Internet and do some research on the Haven and Cooley. Danny says he’s good with computers, so let him prove it.”

  “What about you?”

  “I have a few contacts of my own.” She didn’t know about the network of connections he’d built over half a lifetime of service to the Agency, nor about the type of debts owed and collected by men who lived their lives on the fringes of society.

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  “One step at a time, Sydney.” If necessary, he’d stow her and the children somewhere safe while he went to that island. But he wasn’t about to mention that now. He needed a lot more information before even considering it. “Meanwhile, we shouldn’t stay here any longer. So let’s head out.”

  Ethan turned back to the window and knew immediately something was wrong. The tire swing was empty, as was the boulder. And the porch.

  Danny’s backpack was gone.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ETHAN RUSHED OUTSIDE with Sydney right behind him. Danny and Callie were nowhere in sight.

  “Where did they go?” Sydney turned, searching the clearing and surrounding trees.

  “They’ve run off.” Ethan ran a hand through his hair, cursing the movement and the offending arm. “They must have heard us talking and decided they’d be better off on their own.”

  “That’s crazy.” She kept looking, as if Danny and Callie would suddenly reappear. “They’re only children.”

  “Tell that to Danny.”


  “He thinks I’m lying.” She let out a short, humorless laugh. “Why not? Every other adult in his life has lied to him. The Keepers. Anna. Everyone.” Sydney tossed up her hands. “Why wouldn’t I lie as well?”

  Turning to Ethan, her voice took on a pleading tone. “We have to find them. It will be dark in a few hours, and we can’t leave them alone in these woods.”

  “Take it easy, Sydney. They’ll head for the highway but can’t have gotten far.” He snagged his denim jacket from the porch and started for the trees. “I’ll catch up to them before they reach it.”

  Sydney followed. “Why the highway?”

  “They’ll go to Mulligan,” Ethan said, while looking for the spot where they’d entered the woods. “Danny’s smart and he pays attention. Last night he watched road signs and asked to see the map.” Which made sense, considering their conversation while they’d waited for Sydney. Anna hadn’t just sprung these kids, she’d taught them something about being on the run. Who would have ever guessed?

  “He knows where we are,” Ethan assured her, “and how to get to Champaign.”

  “It’s fifty miles, and even if they make it, Mulligan doesn’t want them.”

  “Danny’s not thinking that far ahead.”

  “Go on.” She dug the keys out of her pocket and started toward the Explorer. “I’ll take the car.”

  “No.” Ethan turned quickly, but she was already halfway across the clearing. “Sydney, stay here. It’s safer. Ramirez—”

  “Screw Ramirez.” She climbed behind the wheel. “We need to find those children.”

  “Shit.” Ethan headed back across the clearing. “Sydney, wait.”

  It was too late.

  Before he could reach her, she’d started the engine and thrown it in gear. “Look in the woods,” she yelled out the window. “I’ll watch for them on the highway.” The back tires spit dirt as she tore off down the road.

  Ethan had no choice but to let her go. He had to find those kids, then he’d go after Sydney and make her see reason. She was too damn obstinate for her own good, and sooner or later it would get her in trouble. Eventually Ramirez would surface, then she’d need more than stubbornness to survive.