Damned If You Don't

by Linda J. Parisi

  Ian didn’t reply again. Was Ian testing him? None of this made any sense.

  “Motive and opportunity, Ian. Killing her own admin would put her right in the spotlight. Why take that chance?” He swallowed hard. “She told me one of her reasons for working on this drug was to help people like Rebecca Daniels. Why tell me about her then? It brings attention right where she wouldn’t want it.”

  “Because the perp we’re dealing with is sick.”

  In spite of the cold dread filling his gut, Jack clung to the mantra that a person was innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around.

  “She didn’t do it, Ian. She’s a hero. She stole the data so no one would use it.”

  “Someone did.”

  “She’s innocent, Ian,” Jack insisted. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”

  “How?” his friend asked with a worried frown.

  “By any means necessary.”

  * * * *

  Jack drove back to the hotel in a quandary. How was he ever going to tell Morgan that Rebecca was dead? He wanted to play it straight with Ian, but there was no way Morgan was getting arrested for murder. And Ian had made it clear he was going to do what he had to now. His first priority was the FBI. Besides, his buddy had a habit of following the rules.

  The same way Jack had a way of bending them.

  He sighed. He didn’t want to go it alone. There were simply too many things that had occurred that could be misconstrued into a mountain of circumstantial evidence. Who was to say, how could they prove, that Morgan didn’t steal those files to cover herself? The dates of the files were during her tenure at the company.

  No, they needed proof. And there was only one real way to get proof. Somehow, someway, Morgan had to become the bait. Not only that, he was going to have to convince her to trust Ian when he wasn’t so sure that was a good idea.

  You’re going soft, man.

  Yeah, well, he’d never been in love before. So all of this was uncharted territory. And that made him very uncomfortable.

  Jack pulled into a convenience store. He wasn’t hungry, but Morgan might be. So he figured he’d pick her up a sandwich. Stepping up to the counter, he spied a basket of fresh flowers. His hand reached out and plucked a bunch from the rest.

  You’re going soft, man.

  He drove back to the hotel with a slight smile on his lips. His heart sped up as he put his key into the hotel-room door. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to say. But there was one thing he was certain of, he loved her and he’d give up his life to protect her.

  Maybe that was a good place to start.

  The moment he walked in the room, Jack knew she was gone. Adrenaline spiked his blood stream and caused his fingers to tremble. He put the bag from the store down on the table along with the flowers and searched the room for a note, anything that would tell him where or why she’d gone.

  Damn her. She was so dead when he caught up with her.

  If you catch up to her.

  Jack called himself every name in the book. But he was a tracker. The best of the best. And she was now one sorry-assed, oh-what-he-was-going-to-do-to-her-ass-when-he-found-her target again.

  Her pocketbook was gone; the small stash of money he’d left her was gone. But she’d left the cell phone on the table. That’s odd.

  He went into the memory to dialed numbers and saw a number he didn’t recognize. Before he could form a next thought, his thumb was hitting Send.

  “Hey, Mac attacks. What’s up? Did you remember something else you wanted to ask me?”

  Jack drew in a deep breath. Morgan’s life depended upon his ability to convince whoever was on the other end of the line that she was in danger.

  “This isn’t Dr. Mackenzie. But please, don’t hang up. I need your help.”

  Desperation bled through his voice, and he hoped it would convince the man on the other end of the line to talk to him.

  “Who is this?”

  “My name is Jack Kent. I work for the FBI.”

  “FBI? For real? Oh wow. I mean, oh no. Is Mac in trouble?”

  Jack knew he had to play along. “Yes, sir, she is.”

  “Man, she didn’t have to lie to me.”

  Lie to him? “Exactly what did she tell you—uh, I don’t know your name, sir.”

  “Oh. Mac calls me Dewy. My name is Bartholomew Douson.”

  Jack wanted to scream in frustration. “I need to know what she told you, Mr. Douson.”

  “Dr. Douson.”

  In a minute he was going to rip his hair out. “It’s all right, Dr. Douson. Dr. Mackenzie is working with the FBI on a sting operation. We already know about the file. But—” Jack hesitated. Did he tell the guy the truth? “Dr. Mackenzie is missing. I’m very worried that she might have tried to go out and put an end to the operation by herself.”

  A soft chuckle reached him through the phone. “That would be Mac. She’s not very patient.”

  “Tell me about it.” Jack exhaled slowly.

  A short silence ensued. “She wanted to know if there was a signature on the file before it was deleted from the server.”

  And Dr. Douson would know this how? Jack thought hard about his answer for a moment, then breathed, “You were the one who deleted it for her.”

  Dead silence. “Am I gonna get into trouble?”

  “No, of course not. I give you my word.”

  “I told her the signature line consisted of letters. Yes sir. And I’ve been thinking about them ever since Mac’s called me.”

  Jack took a giant leap of faith and said, “You know what they stand for, don’t you.”

  “I think so. I think they’re initials. A. D. is probably Dr. Dvorak. But we have several people that work here with the initials E. T.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Douson. Thank you very, very much.”

  “You’re welcome. And if you’re a friend of Mac, you can call me Dewy.”

  “I owe you one, Dewy. Seriously owe you one.”

  “No you don’t. Mac is my friend. Just take care of her for me, okay?”

  Jack grinned. Oh, he had something in mind for “Mac” once he found her, something very painful, something that would teach her to trust him once and for all.

  “Will do.”

  Jack hung up and dialed Ian to explain that there was a monkey wrench in his plans and that he was going to have to improvise. But that was what he was good at. Finding people and improvising.

  Funny part was, he already knew where she was going. The problem was trying to get to the truth before someone else got hurt.

  His gaze narrowed. Someone was going to hurt all right. Especially when he got his hands on her.

  * * * *

  Ian smiled as he drove back to work. His mind flashed vignettes of the past as he thought of them. The three amigos. Raw recruits with special talents, talents they’d put to use for their country.

  One for all and all for one. He could no more turn his back on Jack or Sam than he could his wife—if he had one. They were joined in a way few people are.

  Army strong. And then some.

  Ian walked into the office and headed straight for his boss’s office. He knocked on the door and opened it. “Got a minute, sir?”

  Mike Grady was a good man, dedicated to upholding the law. Would he understand that there were times when loyalty went beyond the law?

  “Sit.”

  Ian cleared his throat once he did. “I’ve got a problem.”

  His boss grunted. “Didn’t think you’d knocked on my door to play tiddleywinks, Spencer. Personal problem or work related?”

  “Both,” he replied with a sardonic smile.

  A long silence followed a glare from beneath a deep brow. “Don’t have all day, Spencer. Spill or leave.”

  Ian nodded, taking a deep breath. “I served with two Rangers in the army, sir. Jack Kent, you know about. The other is Sam Ormond. Seems they’re both caught up in a bad situation.”

  As unflappable as always
, Ian thought as he watched his boss. “How bad?”

  Ian shifted in his chair, trying to look comfortable but knowing he wasn’t snowing anyone, least of all the man across the desk. “Not sure yet. It’s complicated.”

  His boss simply stared at him. “It about the murders, sir. Jack’s trying to protect Dr. Morgan McKenzie,” he began. “Says she stole the data from her company because she knew the formula didn’t work and she was afraid they’d try to make it work anyway.”

  “You mean, they weren’t above cheating.”

  “Yes, sir. Exactly.”

  “Go on.”

  “As you know, Jack Kent is one of the best tracers in the business. So I called in a favor and asked Sam and Jack to find her and to bring her and the formula back to us.”

  “And this involves your friends how?”

  “Dr. McKenzie found out about the ‘additional testing’ on human subjects. And when Jack caught up to her, he realized she’d run to keep the formula from killing anyone else. Even so, Jack was willing to stay with her and see what else she knew, see if she could help lead him to the real culprit. But Sam decided to try to bring her in on his own.”

  “That’s attempted kidnapping on your friend Sam and aiding and abetting on your friend Jack.”

  Ian grimaced. “I know.”

  “And hell, she stole company property,” his boss continued, clearly unhappy. “That’s theft.”

  “Believe me, I know.”

  His boss sighed and leaned forward to brace his arms on his desk. Then he smiled. “All right, this is complicated. What do you want to do?”

  “Jack says Morgan’s willing to become the bait and set up the real murderer. But she—they—want immunity.”

  “And your friend Sam? You looking for immunity for him too?”

  Ian smiled. “Oh no, sir. With your permission, I have an idea you might be interested in.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Ian started to relax. It was going to be all right. Maybe not perfect. But all right.

  “Well, sir, this is what I’d like to do…”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Morgan knew there was only one way to end this fiasco—confront Anton Dvorak—and make sure the E. T. she was thinking of was the right person. To do that, she needed to do some digging, maybe a one-on-one. And the only way to accomplish it all was to wait until the people at BioClin had gone home. Her advantage was that she’d worked at BioClin for two years. She knew the place. And she knew the habits of the people who worked there.

  Most of the staff left by six. The guys finished shipping packages around seven, and usually her staff left by then as well. So the best time to sneak back into the building was right before everyone left.

  Funny, Morgan had no idea how to kill time. Minutes dragged into hours as she wandered through the strip of stores she used to frequent. One was a department store that tempted her to purchase new clothes. She settled on a couple of necessities instead.

  She spent the rest of the afternoon in a megabookstore, trying to read a best seller and sipping free refills of coffee. It didn’t take long before Morgan realized her life, at the moment, was much more bizarre than any novel on the bookshelves.

  And no matter how hard she tried not to let them, her thoughts always drifted back to Jack.

  Morgan put her book down for a moment and stared out at the scene created by the huge picture window in the front of the bookstore. People were hurrying home to their families before darkness fell, running last-minute errands before dinner, doing the things normal people do.

  PhD geek-scientists aren’t normal.

  Why not?

  Morgan thought about her parents—really thought—something she hadn’t done for a very long time, and she admitted to herself that she was still angry with them for leaving her alone, forcing her to live her life for her work instead of herself, so she wouldn’t have to go near the gaping emptiness their deaths had left behind.

  She shook her head. She picked up the book and tried to read again. But the pain wouldn’t go away. Then she realized why.

  Jack.

  Being “in sex” with him was perfect; it was safe, and she didn’t have to worry about opening the box that held her emotions. And just like Pandora, she knew how dangerous lifting the lid would be.

  Did she dare? Morgan took a sip of coffee, letting her fingertip trace the outline of the cap. She watched a tree sway in the wind. She watched a mother lift a baby higher on her hip, open her car door, and put the baby in a car seat. And that was when it hit her. She knew she wanted it all. She wanted what her parents had, that thing that made her so jealous inside, that look between two people she could never understand until now.

  Until Jack.

  He loved her. God, it was so insane. The man who could have any woman he wanted, wanted her.

  Why?

  Morgan shrugged. The scientist in her wanted to examine every nuance, string together logical motivations, and come up with an indisputable answer. Then she realized it really didn’t matter anymore. He did.

  Fait accompli.

  What are you going to do, Morgan? Stay a geek for the rest of your life, or go after the captain of the football team? Go for the gusto, or crawl back into your safe little hidey-hole?

  Morgan smiled. Tears filled her eyes. Jack’s grin filled her vision.

  She lifted the lid.

  * * * *

  Sam sat at the bar, nursing a beer. The door opened, and he didn’t have to look over to know who’d walked in. He simply signaled the bartender to pour another draft.

  “Hey, bro.”

  Sam rose and clapped Ian on the back. “Hey.”

  Sam sat back down again and watched Ian pull a long draught off his frosty mug before he asked, “What’s going on?”

  Ian smiled, and he watched his friend sit on the bar stool next to him. “That should be my line,” Ian replied.

  Sam frowned. “Why?”

  “Jack came to me for help.”

  Sam’s stomach pulled a high dive right into the sewer. He stared at the foam in his mug, watching it disappear, wishing he could be as lucky. “I should’ve known you weren’t calling to go find some women and bump uglies.”

  “Not this time, Sam.”

  Uh-oh. First-name basis. I’m in real trouble now. He took a long pull on his beer. “I’m an ass.”

  “Yeah,” his buddy agreed. “With really long ears.”

  Sam watched a line of condensation roll down his mug, figuring he was the one who should be running. But there was one thing Sam Ormond wasn’t, and that was a coward. “Guess I’ll have to turn myself in.”

  He watched Ian give him a funny look. “I’m not here to arrest you.”

  Surprise stopped his brain cold. Long minutes passed before he exclaimed, “You’re not?”

  “Nope. I’m here to play Let’s Make a Deal. You game?”

  Adrenaline spiked through his bloodstream, and he gripped his beer mug to keep his hands from trembling. “You kidding?”

  “Not the kind of joke I’d play on you, amigo.”

  “Then, hell yeah. I’m interested.”

  He caught Ian’s gaze, and they stared at each other for a long time. “What do you know about this guy Dvorak?”

  Sam wanted to spew. “Egomaniac with a bad superiority complex.”

  “Hmm. When I asked you to get involved, we already knew that people were dying. I don’t normally handle cases like this, but this was different. Maybe you’d better look at these a moment.”

  Ian threw a manila folder onto the bar. Sam opened the envelope with a chill skittering up and down his spine. By the third photo, he wanted to heave. Instead, he jacked his spine back into place and met Ian’s stare with his.

  “What I didn’t tell you was something Jack found out. He said this Dvorak was looking to sell the formula, probably overseas. We’re already looking into the distributor over there that Jack mentioned.”

  Did he tell Ian the whole tru
th now or wait to see what his friend offered? Sam hated holding anything back, especially since Ian was willing to cut him a break. “I see.”

  “Well, here’s the deal,” Ian continued. “I’m going to need someone to do some research. My boss wants to go after Dvorak. Especially if he’s got overseas connections.”

  “He struck me as a pompous ass but not that bright.” Sam sighed and gave Ian a small dose of the truth. “And I can’t make this any clearer. I’m sooo sorry I ever hooked up with BioClin.”

  “You should be.”

  There was more, but Sam wasn’t sure if he could tell Ian everything yet or not. He didn’t want to blow this chance. “Tell me about it.” Sam frowned. “Dvorak’s a weasel. All glory and no guts. Underneath he’s a coward. Push comes to shove, he’ll run.”

  “That’s what we’re hoping for. We want him to run to his buyer, if he has one.”

  “I get the gist of this but not my part,” Sam continued, wanting just a little more information before he threw in the prize. “How do I come into this?”

  He listened to Ian explain. The more he listened, the more he liked the idea.

  “All right,” he bit out, so very unhappy with himself. “I like what I’m hearing. But you’re not going to like what else is going on.”

  He watched Ian frown. “Spill.”

  “As usual, I thought with my dick.”

  Ian smiled. “That’s nothing new.”

  “Yeah, well, I just put two and two together, and you are not going to like how things add up.”

  He watched Ian frown. “You withhold information now and the deal goes out the window,” his friend threatened.

  “I figured as much,” Sam answered. “Dvorak has a partner. And she’s sick enough to do what you just showed me.”

  “She?” Ian frowned, his face filling with distaste. “Ahh, you really are a dickhead.”

  “Very funny,” Sam bit out, really hating himself. “She’s a bitch. But a smart one. Stole my gun and threatened to pin a murder on me if I said anything.”

  “Wonderful,” Ian groused. “Just fucking wonderful. How the hell am I supposed to get you out of that one?”

  “I don’t know. But you’re going to have to. It’s part of the deal.”