Finding Kate Huntley

by Ragan, Theresa

  He pointed a finger at her. “I’ll worry about the disc, Elizabeth. You just worry about getting the money into my account.”

  He turned and marched off.

  His arrogance didn’t stop her from admiring his backside as he headed toward the French doors. Foolish man.

  Leaning closer to the monitor, Jack read an article about AidVac and the death of the two inventor scientists Kate had talked about on the plane. Both men were family men. Michael Lang had been the inventor of AidVac, the man killed in the hit and run.

  Jack scrolled down and skimmed over a copy of an old newspaper clipping. Interesting.

  “Witness Robert Conrad, who was in the vicinity when the accident occurred, told Officer Gibson that Mr. Lang was behaving in an irrational manner before he ran into the street without looking either way.”

  Once again, Robert Conrad’s name was coming up. Although Conrad had the social skills of a rat and Jack never liked the guy, he never meant him any harm either. He certainly never intended for the man to die. He hadn’t told Kate about Conrad earlier because he figured she had enough on her mind. Another clue connecting the FBI to the death of yet another AIDS scientist would only make her lose sleep, so he figured he’d keep this tidbit to himself.

  Jack stood. He’d taken a long nap earlier, and he felt restless. He couldn’t stop thinking about the disc. He needed to get to Forstin’s lab. But how was he going to leave without Kate noticing? About to leave the guestroom, he stopped at the door to listen. He could hear the kids talking to Kate in the family room.

  “I still don’t get it,” Brooklynn said. “How does Fred remember the cards so well?”

  “He has some weird memory chip inside his brain,” Kate told her, making Jack smile.

  “He has a chip in his brain?” Adam asked. “Cool.”

  “It’s not a chip,” Jack said, joining them. “It’s known as eidetic memory. Mozart possessed eidetic memory, so did Bobby Fischer, a chess genius.”

  “That’s not fair,” Brooklynn said. “That’s cheating.”

  “Just because you have the exact opposite of eidetic memory doesn’t mean he cheated,” Adam argued.

  Brooklynn snatched a pillow from the couch and tossed it at her brother’s head.

  “Stop it,” Adam complained. “I’m trying to teach Mrs. Reed how to use a computer, and she doesn’t exactly have eidetic memory either.”

  Mrs. Reed? It took Jack a second to remember that Mrs. Reed was the name he’d given Barbara Matthews. Jack had found another laptop in A.J.’s sister’s room, which he’d set up for Kate and the kids to use.

  Kate looked away from the computer screen long enough to scowl at Adam.

  “Now put the cursor on the item you want to research and hit enter,” Adam told her.

  It took Kate a while to get the mouse to move the cursor, but she finally managed to do as Adam said. It took her another moment to remember to click Enter.

  Kate smiled at Adam. He was right. She definitely didn’t have eidetic memory. Within seconds everything she’d ever wanted to know about Haiti popped up on the screen. There it was in full color. Home. She tried not to get all choked up as she read the first couple of pages. Seeing Haiti made her wish she was there right now. She had seen enough. “Thanks for the computer lesson. That was fun.”

  “Sure you don’t want to play solitaire again?”

  “No. It’s all yours.”

  Kate stood and headed for the master bedroom. Jack followed close behind. Brooklynn was engrossed in an old Clint Eastwood movie while Adam fiddled with the computer.

  Kate entered the master bedroom first. Jack stepped inside and shut the door. When Kate looked at Jack, she realized she’d been looking at him all day in a whole new light...as a man instead of a rookie agent...as a friend instead of foe.

  Jack had been great with the kids: patient, understanding, and caring, questioning them on their “situation at home” and yet not to the point of being annoying or pushy. He had a way with kids, a way with people...a way with her. He made her want to believe him when he promised her everything would work out.

  “Listen,” Jack said. “There’s something I need to do tonight and I was hoping you would stay here with the kids until I return.”

  The crisp white T-shirt he had on hugged his chest and arms in all the right places. His hair had grown since she’d first met him, and he’d finally broken down and borrowed a pair of khaki shorts from A.J.’s brother-in-law. She crossed her arms. “What’s up?”

  “I need to go to Dr. Forstin’s lab. I want to find out if he left any clues behind that could ultimately clear my name.”

  Kate went to the dresser and began opening drawers and shuffling through clothes. She found a pair of dark stretch pants, a black long-sleeved cotton shirt, and a pair of dark socks. Next, she went to the walk-in closet and returned with a pair of tennis shoes that were a size too big.

  “I’m going with you. What do you suggest we do about those kids?” she asked as she slid the sundress she was wearing up and over her head.

  Jack started to say something, but stopped to watch her dress instead.

  She slipped on the shirt and raised a questioning brow at him when she caught his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have a hard time concentrating with you doing a striptease.”

  She laughed. “Trust me. This is not a striptease. I know how to do a striptease. This is called getting dressed.”

  Jack didn’t look convinced, nor did he look away.

  She stepped into the stretch pants and pulled them over her hips. “There. I’m dressed. Happy?”

  “Not really.”

  “Now what about the kids?” she asked again. “Shouldn’t they be getting home?”

  “Let them be.” Jack looked thoughtful for a moment before he added, “I used to have a friend when I was younger whose father was a mean drunk. I’m sure Barbara Matthews will come and get them when she feels it’s safe.”

  “Okay,” Kate said as she plunked down on the edge of the bed to put on socks and shoes.

  Jack rubbed his chin. “So, what’s going on? What’s with the Johnny Cash outfit?”

  “If you’re going to Dr. Forstin’s lab, then I’m going with you. I can’t sit around here and babysit. I need to do something. I need answers, too. Don’t even think about trying to stop me.”

  Jack smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Kate finished tying her shoes and said, “I’ll tell the kids not to wait up.”

  Chapter 17

  It was two in the morning by the time Jack steered the 1970 Chevy onto Miramar Road, a few miles from San Diego and a few blocks from Dr. Forstin’s laboratory. The engine backfired, prompting Kate to sit up a little taller, her eyes wide and alert. She looked like a woman who was about to walk into a combat zone instead of break into a private lab. Not once had Kate nodded off on the more than two-hour ride to San Diego. She was focused. She had a gun at her side and her knife strapped around her ankle. She meant business and she wasn’t taking any chances.

  Jack thought about Dr. Forstin, finding it hard to believe it wasn’t long ago that he sat in the man’s office and talked to him about finding Kate Huntley. It was even more difficult to believe Dr. Forstin was dead. He’d liked the man right off. Dr. Forstin was friendly...a family man, a good man who wanted to make a difference in the world.

  Jack took another right and then pulled off the road and parked close to the curb. “The lab is a block from here,” he told Kate. “I think our best bet will be to leave the truck here and go by foot, heading in through the back.”

  Kate nodded and opened the door.

  Jack climbed out of the truck and took a deep breath. He tried not to think about Conrad. Conrad might have been a rat, but nobody deserved to die that way.

  Jack could smell salt and seaweed drifting in from the shore. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the gentle lapping of the tide. But even the soothing sound failed to take the e
dge off.

  With its rusty rocker panels, chipped red paint, and bent bumper, Jack was surprised the truck ran as well as it did. “I figure the agency will have security watching over the place,” he said as he pulled a bag filled with tools from behind the front seat. The bag was connected to a belt which he hooked around his waist.

  Kate pulled a beanie over her head. With her dark clothing, she just about disappeared in the night.

  “Ready to go?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I’ll follow you.”

  Jack kept a steady pace as he led the way. A dog barked in the distance. For about half a block they were forced to stay on the side of the road with no trees or brush to hide them. He picked up the pace. As soon as they could, they cut down an alley between two buildings. Jack could see the lab in the distance. An outside light came on as they passed another commercial building. The light could have been set off by motion, but he wasn’t taking any chances. With a jerk of his hand, he gestured toward the chain-link fence ahead. They needed to hurry. Jack stopped at the fence and linked his hands together to give Kate some leverage to get over the fence, but she was a few steps ahead of him and already at the top of the fence waiting for him.

  He sighed.

  “Jack,” she said. “What are you doing?”

  “Not a thing,” he muttered as he started to climb. Once his feet hit the ground on the other side, he looked around, shaking his head when he spotted Kate sliding through a back window. He jogged that way. She had the back door open before he figured out how he was going to squeeze through the window.

  She waved him in. The door clicked shut behind him.

  The lab was one large dimly lit room, containing high-tech lab equipment, including various microscopes and vacuum pumps. Test tubes and flasks covered a long built-in table to the right. Computers and cabinets lined the wall to the left. Jack climbed over the yellow crime tape and took a seat in front of the main computer. Everything looked exactly the way it had when he visited Dr. Forstin. No blood stains, just crime scene barrier tape sectioning off the area where the doctor had been killed, which happened to be the area that he and Kate were focusing on.

  While Kate searched through file cabinets, Jack started the computer. He looked at the ceiling and around the computer area to see if there was a camera. Nothing. His eyes followed the window frame. Nada. He and Kate talked at length on the way to the lab about what they would look for and what they hoped to accomplish. They needed clues, anything that might hint as to why somebody wanted Dr. Forstin killed.

  Kate was focusing her search on finding a link between Forstin’s death and her father’s death. Jack hoped to find anything that might help prove he wasn’t the killer—a letter or an email indicating that Dr. Forstin was on the verge of an important discovery.

  It was easy to see that the hard drive had already been tampered with. Jack had expected no less. Most of the dated material was from a month ago, which meant all files created in the last thirty days had been removed.

  Jack searched through the desk drawers for discs. Dr. Forstin had seemed especially knowledgeable about computers. If that were the case, Forstin would not have made it easy for someone to collect data. At the very least, Forstin would have kept duplicate files of anything worth saving. He could have hidden files away on another account. Jack clicked away at the keyboard. “Come on Dr. Forstin, show me what you’ve got.” He started with names of people Dr. Forstin might have known. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a picture of Dr. Forstin’s dog. Jack had a chocolate Labrador when he was growing up, and he’d mentioned that fact to Dr. Forstin during their visit. Dr. Forstin had said his dog’s name was Ireland because that’s where his grandparents were from. Jack typed in the name. “Bingo.”

  The cursor blinked. He needed a password. “What was Dr. Forstin’s wife’s name?” he asked Kate.

  “Mary.”

  He typed in the word “Mary.”

  Nothing. He tried “Bingo.” Nothing. Then he leaned back into the chair. “How about the kids?”

  “I don’t remember,” she said without turning about. “But Dr. Forstin used to call his wife Kiwi sometimes when he mentioned her during our conversations. I thought the name was sort of cute.”

  Jack typed in the word ‘Kiwi.’ “You’re a genius.”

  Whoever Harrison had sent to the lab to collect data had done shoddy work. A dozen files came up, filling the screen. Jack rummaged through the desk drawers until he found a box of unused discs. He slid a disc into the disk drive, clicked a few buttons and waited for the files to be transferred. After a few moments, it was done. He shoved the disc into his shirt pocket and shut the computer off just as two bright beams of light filled the room. Headlights.

  Jack dropped to the floor. Kate clutched a file to her chest and did the same. They crawled away from the window to the far corner of the room. They needed more time. Kate tucked the file inside her shirt and under her waistband. She crawled to the table and pushed a microscope out of her way so she could climb on top.

  The headlights blinked and went off. The room was dark again. A car door opened and closed.

  Kate stood on the table and pushed open one of the ceiling panels above her head. Jack climbed up next to her and hurried the process by giving her bottom an upward shove. She looked over her shoulder at him. He winked, climbed up behind her, and quickly slid the panel back into place just as a key rattled in the door.

  “Where did you get the key?” a male voice asked.

  “The cleaning lady,” another voice answered, also a man. American. “Like taking candy from a baby.”

  A shiver ran up Jack’s spine. He recognized the second voice. But from where?

  The door clicked shut. Shuffling sounds ensued.

  Kate crawled toward the middle of the beam. If she fell, she would go straight through the ceiling. Why couldn’t she stay still? The woman could drive a man crazy. He couldn’t stop her without calling out, so he followed her instead.

  “Hey, look at this Patrick!”

  Jack froze. Patrick. Patrick Monahan from Division II...he should have known. A.J. had mentioned seeing Monahan with Harrison. He heard the buzz of the computer, followed by the clacking of a keyboard.

  Balanced on a beam, Kate stopped up ahead.

  Jack edged his way across the beam. He was bigger than she was and not quite as agile.

  Kate pointed downward.

  There was a crack in one of the panels. Through the crack he saw a man sitting in front of the computer.

  “Any luck?” a voice asked.

  “Holy shit.” Patrick turned his head. “Somebody’s been on this computer. And I mean recently.”

  The other man moved to Patrick’s side and looked over his shoulder.

  “Holy shit!” Patrick repeated. He came to his feet so fast he nearly knocked the chair over.

  “What’s going on?”

  Patrick pointed at the screen. “Somebody logged on at 2:12.” He looked at his watched. “It’s 2:21. What does that tell you?”

  The other guy went to the window and pushed it open. “Whoever was here came through this way.”

  The room was suddenly quiet, too quiet.

  Jack froze in an awkward position. In a few minutes his right leg would be numb if he didn’t move. Kate must have seen the concern on his face since she was shaking her head. The disc fell from his pocket and skittered across the paneled ceiling.

  “Did you hear that?”

  One of the men took a few steps until he was staring straight up at the crack in the panel. It was Patrick’s pal, a man Jack didn’t recognize. The man pulled out a pistol and aimed the barrel straight up, right between Jack’s eyes.

  Kate and Jack held still.

  Patrick came to his partner’s side and looked up. He pushed the guy’s arm down. “I didn’t hear a thing. Don’t get trigger happy on me.”

  “I think somebody’s up there.”

  Both of Jack’s legs were c
ramping. He wasn’t sure how long he could stay still, especially straddled like he was on the beam.

  “Take the flashlight and go take a look.”

  Footsteps sounded as the man headed across the room. The table in the corner of the room rattled. Somebody was climbing onto the table and heading their way. Kate leaned toward Jack and jabbed a finger into his shoulder. When he looked her way, she pointed down. She was going to jump, crash right through the panels, and do what? Break her neck? Her chances of falling on top of Monahan were slim to none.

  Jack shook his head.

  She positioned her body, readying herself.

  “Holy crap, would you look at this!” Patrick said.

  Kate gripped onto the beam, teetering slightly before she caught her balance and somehow managed to stay where she was. Jack drew in a long breath.

  “That’s a fucking surveillance camera up there, isn’t it?” Patrick asked.

  The other guy was on the table trying to get a hold of the panel. “It looks too small to be a video camera. And why would the doctor put a camera right there...facing his work area? Why not facing the front entry or the area outside the door?”

  Patrick snorted. “Christ, I don’t know. Lou never mentioned a fucking surveillance camera.”

  Lou. Kate had mentioned the name Lou in the airplane. Jack made a mental note to have A.J. check the agency’s system for anyone who went by that name.

  “We’re going to need a ladder to get up there and see if it has a video tape in it,” Patrick’s partner said.

  “There’s no time for a ladder,” Patrick growled. “This has taken too long already. Get back on that table,” he ordered, “and crawl through one of those panels. You might be able to reach the camera from up there.”

  “What if I can’t reach it?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll throw you a hammer. Just get up there and get the damn camera out of there!”

  The man hurried across the room again. Jack could hear Patrick scrambling through the cabinets, probably searching for a hammer or heavy object.