“Sorry.” Jackie tapped her fingers against the wheel. “We need to find another place to stay.”
“Let’s get out of the city while we can,” Ian said. “I don’t like the feeling of being trapped. All this traffic makes me nervous.”
Jackie stayed silent as she thought. “Okay, we’ll head for Wainwright Labs.”
“Fine. Take Henry Hudson Parkway,” he said.
Jackie maneuvered her way through the flow of traffic, an anonymous driver just like everyone else around her.
“I know that area,” Ian said. “There’s a hotel not far from there.”
“We’ll check in and get some rest.” Jackie glanced in the rearview mirror. “We really need to get Gus somewhere.”
“I don’t have anyplace to leave him.” Ian frowned. Jackie knew he hated the thought of giving up the dog even temporarily.
“What if Ron would take him? Keep him up at the cabin?” Ian hesitated and Jackie shrugged. “Think about it. You’ve got a little bit of time.”
“But not much.” He sighed.
“No, not much.”
21
1:00 P.M.
Thirty minutes later, Jackie was satisfied with the random hotel they’d found. “We can’t be seen with Gus,” she said. “It’s best if the clerk doesn’t even know we’re here.”
“I know.” Ian fell silent and followed her around to the back of the hotel to wait. Holly went in the front door. Jackie shivered as the wind blew. She adjusted the collar of her jacket as though that would help. She and Ian didn’t talk, they just waited.
Finally Holly came around and let them in.
“Any problems?” Jackie asked.
“No, not at all.” Her pale, wan face tugged at Jackie’s heart. “I got us a two-room suite,” Holly said. She bit her lip and looked at Ian. “It was expensive. She looked at me funny when I said I didn’t have a credit card and paid cash, deposit and all. She’s definitely nosy and wanted to know why I needed so much space for just me. I said I liked to have room to think.” She grimaced. “I don’t think she believed me.”
Ian shrugged. “It’s not her business, but she’ll remember you if anyone asks.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jackie said. “We’re not going to be here that long. The suite is great.” She gripped her bags. “Holly, why don’t you take Gus upstairs to the room? I’m desperate for some coffee and maybe a snack.” She looked at Ian. “Think we can manage to snag something without the clerk noticing us?”
“Probably. Let’s try.” He touched his cousin’s hand. “We’ll bring you something. What do you want?”
“Anything is fine. Some fruit and a granola bar.” She shrugged. “Whatever they have.” Holly went to the elevator, Gus trotting along beside her.
Jackie and Ian headed toward the lobby.
Jackie peered around the corner. “Hang on, she’s on the computer, but will see us if she looks up.” Jackie waited a minute, then tried again. Then again. Finally. “She’s on the phone,” she murmured. “Let’s see what we can do.” They went straight to the snack area that was conveniently located on the other side of a large fireplace. The clerk wouldn’t be able to see them unless she came out from behind the desk. They helped themselves to coffee.
Jackie’s phone rang. “Hello?”
“Turn on the television,” Ron said. “National news is following the story and you need to see this. Stay in touch.”
Jackie grabbed the remote from the end table next to the sofa. She pulled up the guide and found the channel for one of the news networks.
She nudged Ian and he looked up.
The closed captions scrolled while the reporter spoke into her microphone. “And now an update on the story we’re all following. In a shocking turn of events, officials have released a statement saying that they have evidence to suggest that Ian Lockwood is not responsible for the death of Daniel Armstrong after all. They did go on to say that he and his companion, Jackie Sellers, are still wanted in the questioning of a possible terrorist act against the United States and are investigating several emails found on his work computer. They have not said what they found at his residence, but we have video of the FBI carrying several bags from the house.” A short segment played showing FBI agents carrying black bags from Ian’s house. “If you have any information about them, please call the number listed at the bottom of your screen.”
Ian stared, shock blanching his face white, then red. “I didn’t have anything incriminating in my house. Whatever they found, someone planted.”
Jackie could feel the tension flowing from him.
“Interesting.”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his chin. “But announcing that I’m no longer a suspect in Daniel’s murder, do you think it’s a trick? A ploy to get us to come in?”
She shook her head. “They wouldn’t have said we were still wanted for the terrorist acts. I’ll call Ron and get the details, but it looks like that’s one thing you can rest easy about. They know you didn’t kill Daniel.”
“Thank God,” he breathed. They continued to watch the coverage of their case and learned nothing new. Ian looked at her. “How did you know?”
Jackie paused, tilted her head and frowned. “Know what?”
“That he didn’t want me—us—dead.”
“For one, the safety was on. If he’d wanted you dead, he would have shot you before you walked out that door. He would have gotten us both before we knew what hit us.”
He blanched, then nodded. “Which is why you searched him.”
She nodded. “I figured if he wanted us alive, he would have to have a way to restrain us handy.”
Ian shook his head. “You’re amazing.”
She laughed. “No, not so much. Just trained.” She paused. “Someone told him to bring us in alive. I wonder if it’s because they want to question you about the email. Like who you’ve told, that kind of thing.”
“They know who I’ve told, which is why they’re after you and Holly.”
“Yes, but maybe they’re trying to make sure there’s no one else.” She paused. “I’ve been thinking.”
“When?”
She shot him a glance. “Huh?”
“When have you had time to think?”
“Oh.” She gave a low chuckle. “Right. Well, off and on.” She turned serious. “We’ve put this off long enough. It’s time to call Special Agent Elizabeth Miller and talk to her.”
Ian went still. “She’ll come with backup and plenty of firepower. We’ll end up talking all right. From behind vertical bars and through a lawyer.”
Jackie sighed, afraid he was right. “We’re going to have to take a chance.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I don’t either, but we’ve got to go on the offensive. We’ve been running, trying to stay alive and one step ahead of everyone. It’s time to figure out how to take control of this.”
“All right. Let’s get upstairs and see what kind of plan we can come up with.”
Once inside the suite, Ian went straight to the television to turn the news on. Jackie noticed Holly had claimed the room with the two beds while Ian and Gus got the king. Holly rolled her carry-on into the room and left it just inside the door. She sank onto the bed closest to the bathroom. “Were we really shot at yesterday? Was it just yesterday that someone broke into my apartment and trashed it?”
“Yes to the part about being shot at. Not sure when someone broke in and trashed your apartment. Could have been yesterday or the day before.” Jackie set her bag on the bed and pulled out the hair color. “Feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”
Holly blinked. “Yes.”
Jackie paused. “Is Lucy really all right? Can anyone find her?”
Holly rubbed her eyes. “I don’t see how. She’s staying with a friend of hers from school. Carissa has a little boy named Micah.” She gave a small smile. “Micah and Lucy hit it right off the first day they met.”
“Good.” Jackie cleared
her throat. “Good.”
She flopped back and stared at the ceiling. “But I mean if someone tracked my cell phone calls and started tracing the numbers, they would come across Carissa’s.”
Jackie froze. “All right, then we’re going to have to warn Carissa not to let on that Lucy’s with her.”
“How?” Holly sat up with a wince and pressed the heel of her palm to the side of her head.
“Are you all right?”
A long pause. “No, Jackie, I’m not all right.”
Jackie moved to sit beside Holly, the bad feeling growing in her belly. “What is it? A tumor?”
Holly shot her a startled look. Then bit her lip and looked away. She took a deep breath before she met Jackie’s eyes once again. “Yes.”
“Cancerous?”
“Yes.”
“How long have they given you?” she whispered.
“Three months.”
Stunned, Jackie stared at her friend. Then grief welled and the tears spilled down her cheeks. She grabbed Holly in a hug. “We’ll fight it. You can beat this. Lucy needs you. I need you.”
“I’ll fight it,” Holly agreed slowly. “But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since being diagnosed, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“Of course.”
“And if—”
“No ifs.”
“If,” Holly insisted. “If I don’t make it, I need you to take Lucy. I’ve already put it in my will and my lawyer knows my wishes.”
Jackie stared. “Holly, do you know … are you sure … I can’t …”
“You can.” She stood. “Now, I’m going to take some medicine and then a shower if that’s all right.”
Jackie’s jaw worked. She didn’t know what to say, so she settled for, “Sure.” She held up the other box of color. “I’ll … um … just give this to Ian.”
Holly stepped toward the bathroom, then stopped and turned. “Don’t tell Ian yet.”
“I won’t. That’s not for me to tell.”
Holly blinked back the tears that clouded her eyes and Jackie wanted to wrap her arms around her friend once more. Instead she watched Holly struggle with her words.
“What is it you’re trying to say?” Jackie asked.
“Ian,” she said. “He was completely in love with you, you know.”
Jackie sighed. “I suspected.”
“But you left him anyway.”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
Did she really want to get into this now? Holly seemed to need her to. “Because the social worker made me.” Holly gaped and Jackie took pity on her. “I was an abused child, Holly. Verbally, emotionally, sometimes physically. The summer my parents finally split, I hitchhiked to stay with my grandfather in Virginia. He took one look at my broken nose and badgered me until I finally told him everything that was going on in my home. He called CPS, Child Protective Services. They gave him custody.” She swiped a hand across her eyes. “I never saw either of my parents again.”
“Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry. I never knew.”
“No one did.”
“But you came back. For a really short time.”
“For about a week. Gramps told me I needed to say my goodbyes.” She swallowed hard. “I was seventeen years old, Holly. I was too ashamed to tell the truth about why I had to leave, so I just gathered my things and said I’d chosen to go live with my grandfather.”
“Ian was depressed for months.”
“I’m sorry. But … he looks like he got over it.”
Holly gave a short nod. “He did. Eventually. He turned to working out. He says it was because of the bullying—and I’m sure that was part of it—but mostly I think it was to try and forget you. He stayed at the dojo from the time school got out until it closed. Every day and even on the weekends.”
Jackie sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I wish now I had told him, but back then …”
“You were probably an emotional mess.”
“To say the least.”
“Where are your parents now?”
Jackie’s fingers tightened around the box she still held. “They’re dead. I’m just going to give this to Ian.”
Holly studied her for a few seconds longer. “Okay. I won’t be long.”
“Take your time.” Jackie heard the door snick closed behind Holly. But the woman’s last question still echoed in her mind. Where are your parents now?
She knew where they were, she just wished she could have made some kind of peace with them before they’d died. Her mother from a drug overdose, her father in a car accident. He’d been driving drunk. She knew she needed to come to terms with the fact that they never loved her, never put her first in anything. Didn’t care enough to fight for her when her grandfather was given custody. But it was hard to accept those things. Hard to wrap her mind around what Ian believed. That God wanted a relationship with her. That he loved her. That she mattered. How could God love her when her own parents didn’t?
A light rap pulled her from her thoughts. Ian stood in the open doorway. “You okay?”
“Sure.” She tossed him the box. “Time for us to change identities once again.”
22
3:00 P.M.
NEW YORK CITY
WALDEN’S MORTUARY
James Walden threw the clipboard onto his desk and picked up the paper. LOCAL COUPLE MISSING. Mr. and Mrs. Bates smiled back at him from a photo he felt was several years old. She simply looked too happy and didn’t have any new or healing bruises on her face.
The cops had just left and James knew that while he’d played it cool and offered the performance of a lifetime, he could only hope they hadn’t noticed the sweat on his forehead. His armpits were soaked and he’d have to change before his next meeting. He glanced at his watch. He had an hour.
He walked to the small room where he kept several changes of clothing and toiletries. He turned on the water in the small sink and stripped off the wet shirt. The plan was going all wrong. And it had started with that stupid email. And while the email had been planned, sending it to Ian had not been. Ian’s appearance into the mix was creating a set of problems he feared would destroy everything they’d all worked so hard for. He rubbed a warm, soapy washcloth over his face and upper body. Once finished, he rinsed, dressed, and returned to his office. He stared at the newspaper picture once again. He shook his head and wondered if it was time to bail. He had several million in an offshore account. If he wasn’t greedy, he could disappear forever. But the millions he’d leave behind …
“Wainwright wanted you to know he’s tying up loose ends.”
James looked up. Bo Gaines, one of Wainwright’s goons, stood there, his hulking six-foot-four frame making it look like the architects used the wrong measurements when building the doorway. “Tying up loose ends?” James asked. “What do you mean?”
“He feels like things have gotten out of control.”
“Well, he’s got that right. Red Peters is in custody.”
“Red hasn’t talked so far. He’s too scared to, but we won’t have to worry about him long. He and his family will be dead within the hour. Wainwright said your inside man is taking care of it.”
James gave a slow nod. “All right.” Fear slithered through him. Red wasn’t just a hired killer like some of the others. Red knew things and could identify James and other key players. If he decided to talk and request protective custody before he could be taken out, the whole plan would implode.
He looked at the picture in the paper once again, then back to the man about to leave. “Hey, Gaines. Are you still looking for the woman? Mrs. Bates?”
“Yeah, we’re keeping an eye out for her.” He scowled.
James rubbed his eyes. According to his security feed, as soon as her husband had left the room with James, she’d grabbed the keys from his desk and walked out the door. Curious and perturbed, James had watched the feed that covered the parking lot. Mrs. Bates had gotten into her car and simpl
y driven away.
Where was she?
James understood why Wainwright felt like there were too many loose ends.
There were.
And yet he couldn’t help wondering when Wainwright would decide James was also a loose end who needed tying up.
Jackie stood while she watched the news. She didn’t want to sit, refused to pace, and couldn’t go for a jog.
So she stood.
Ian joined her. He settled his hands on her shoulders and leaned his forehead against the back of her head. She went completely still even while her pulse picked up speed. “Get some sleep, Ian.”
“You’re the one who needs to do that.”
True enough. “Did you see that?”
“What?” He lifted his head, but his fingers began a gentle massage. A soft sigh slipped out and she closed her eyes, trying to focus on what she was going to say.
Oh yeah. “The media is speculating on reasons for the government’s suggestion that everyone get vaccinated for smallpox. They’re making the shots available at all flu shot outlets.” She moved to the couch and he settled beside her.
“But why? Smallpox was eradicated years ago.”
“Seems like there’s been a very small and isolated outbreak here in the United States, but they’re not saying where.”
“If it’s isolated, why offer the vaccine?”
“Good question,” she muttered. “That’s the same question the media is asking and no one in the government is answering. Tobias Freeman is the director of the CDC and he just offered a statement. He said that it was just a precaution. With the fact that smallpox had reared its head once again, he wanted to make sure that the American citizens could be proactive and get the vaccine.”
Ian frowned and shook his head. “Something’s not right about that.”
“I agree.”
Something niggled at her. Something she’d seen on the news. She tried to pull it from the depths of her brain, but it wouldn’t come to the surface. But it would. Eventually. She rubbed her arms. “I’m going to grab a shower and some sleep. I recommend you do the same. But first …”
“But first what?”
“We’re going to make contact with the FBI, give them that email, and figure out where to go from there.”
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