Out of Reach: A Novel

by Patricia Lewin

  The back window exploded, spraying glass.

  Alec ducked, looking to Erin, who’d crouched down as well across the seat. “You okay?”

  “Just pissed off.” She turned, taking aim through the shattered back window, the Ruger searching out one final target as the men rapidly faded behind them.

  “Where’s the closest airport?” he asked as he headed toward the front gate.

  “Leesburg, I think.”

  “Works for me.”

  The gate was closing, but Alec sped up, scraping metal as the sedan shot through. They hit the wet asphalt, skidded, fishtailed, then straightened.

  “We can’t help Cody if we’re roadkill,” Erin said, grabbing the armrest.

  He threw her a quick glance. “Hey, I thought you liked it rough.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “But only when I’m in the driver’s seat.”

  Alec laughed, realizing he really needed to get to know this woman better.

  XXXI

  ERIN ACHED.

  Oh, she’d forgotten about it for a while. Adrenaline had carried her through, but as her heart rate and the rest of her returned to normal, she felt Holmes’s attack all over again. Her wrists and shoulder complained bitterly, and her head, well, she wasn’t sure her stomach would tolerate the amount of aspirin it would take to stop the pounding.

  The worst part?

  She knew she wasn’t done pushing her tired body to the limit. And she’d be damned before admitting any of it to Donovan.

  They caught up to the Town Car within a few miles of Neville’s estate, the diplomatic plates a dead giveaway.

  “Got you,” Erin said.

  “Oh, yeah?” Donovan closed the distance between the two vehicles, but the other driver made no attempt to speed up or lose them. “Now what?”

  Good question. Anything they did to force the other car off the road would endanger Cody. And neither of them wanted that. “Just stay with them. They’ve got to stop eventually.”

  “I’ve got an idea.” Alec pulled out his cell phone and tossed it to Erin. “Let’s see if we can get some local help.”

  “The police won’t interfere with a car sporting diplomatic plates.”

  Alec shot her a grin. “So don’t tell them. By the time they figure it out, it’ll be all over.”

  Erin made the call, giving the local police Alec’s FBI information and requesting assistance with the apprehension of a kidnapping suspect. Meanwhile, the Town Car kept a steady pace, well within the posted speed limit.

  “They know we can’t touch them,” Erin said.

  “Let them keep thinking that.”

  Erin smiled, liking this side of Donovan. A little reckless, a little dangerous. It made her think the straitlaced, overprotective FBI-agent act was all a sham.

  They were closing in on Leesburg and its small executive airport when the sounds of sirens came from behind and blue lights flashed in his rearview mirror.

  “Here comes the cavalry,” Alec said.

  Erin still wasn’t sure the locals were a good idea, but it was worth a shot. “Let’s just hope they don’t decide we’re the bad guys.”

  “As long as we get Cody out of that car first,” he said, “that’s all that matters.”

  This side of Donovan, too, was nice, she thought. He had his priorities straight, with no chance of his confusing the right moral choice for the most useful career choice.

  Two police cars sped past them, screeching to a halt in front of the airport entrance, blocking it. The Town Car slammed on its breaks, skidded on the wet asphalt, and came to rest sideways in the road.

  Alec stopped a few yards back, flanked by two more patrol cars. Erin jumped from the car, the FBI Glock already in hand. Donovan joined her, and shortly after, four officers from the two patrol cars were at their sides. Across the way, on the other side of the Town Car, four more officers took up position.

  “Special Agent Donovan.” Donovan flashed his ID without taking his eyes off the silent Town Car. “She’s Erin Baker,” he added, letting them make their own assumptions about her role in all this.

  “What’s the story here, Agents?” asked the cop, whose name tag read Sergeant Reynolds, nearest Donovan.

  “We have reason to believe that the Lincoln is transporting a kidnap victim. A nine-year-old boy. Cody Sanders. Heard of him?”

  “Yeah,” said one of the other officers. “He’s been missing for nearly a week now. From up around the Baltimore area.”

  “That’s him,” Alec confirmed.

  “Well, let’s see if we can flush them out.” Sergeant Reynolds raised a bullhorn. “This is the police. You’re surrounded. Throw out your weapons and come out with your hands up.”

  No response from the Town Car.

  “Agent,” said one of the officers to Erin, “that car’s got diplomatic plates.”

  She’d known that sooner or later one of the cops would notice. “It’s stolen,” she said.

  He looked doubtful. Or maybe just worried.

  “I’ll take full responsibility, Officer,” Alec said, then reached for the bullhorn. “Let me try.”

  The officer handed it over.

  “This is Agent Donovan with the FBI.” Donovan’s voice boomed across the empty space. “We know you’re holding Cody Sanders. Let him go, and we can all go home in one piece.”

  Still no response.

  “They know we can’t approach,” Erin said, “or fire on them without hurting Cody.” They knew something else as well. Something that gave them an incentive to just sit tight.

  From behind them on the road, a stream of headlights cut through the dark. Erin turned to look, thinking this was what—or whom—the Town Car was waiting on. Getting closer, the lights took on dark shapes. A stretch limousine, flags flying on its bumper, and four sedans, two in front, two in back. A diplomatic escort.

  Neville.

  The reason the Town Car’s occupants felt safe just waiting it out. She was willing to bet her life on it.

  The caravan stopped.

  After a moment’s hesitation, a suited muscle got out of the front car. As he approached the police officers, Erin recognized him as one of Neville’s men, one of those who’d escorted her and Donovan out to the estate to dig up the graves.

  Had that been only this afternoon? It felt like days ago.

  “Excuse me, Officer,” he said. “Why are you blocking that car?”

  “Sorry, buddy,” the cop answered. “You’ll have to move along. We have a situation here.”

  “I don’t think you understand. That car belongs to my employer and is protected by his diplomatic rights.”

  Donovan stepped up beside the sergeant. “And just who is your employer?” Though Erin knew he recognized the man as well.

  “I think you know the answer to that, Agent Donovan.”

  “Yeah, well, you tell Neville that if he wants his car, he’ll have to come get it personally. And I want Cody Sanders.”

  The man looked ready to argue. Instead, he turned and walked back to the limousine, disappearing into its interior.

  “What’s going on here?” asked Reynolds. “This looks like much more than just a kidnapping.”

  Erin stepped up beside Donovan. “We just want the boy returned home, Sergeant. We won’t ask you to step over any lines.” She only hoped she was telling the truth.

  A moment later, the muscle reemerged from the limo. Then Neville followed, with two other bodyguards behind him. The four men covered the distance between the cars, stopping in front of Erin and Donovan.

  Neville sighed. “Agent Donovan and Officer Baker, you’ve gone too far this time.” Then, turning to Sergeant Reynolds by their side, he said, “I’m General William Neville, attached to the German Embassy, and that is one of my cars you’re holding hostage. If you don’t want to create an international incident, and consequently lose your job and face criminal charges from your own government, I suggest you move aside and let me and my entire entourage pass.”


  Reynolds squirmed but held his ground. “Agent Donovan says the car was stolen and used in a kidnapping.”

  Neville bristled. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Who’s in the car, then, sir?”

  “I don’t need to answer your questions.”

  “No, sir, you don’t.” The cop was holding his own. “But it might help to expedite this situation.”

  Neville looked from one to the other of them, calculating, weighing his next move. Then he motioned to his man, the muscle in a suit. “Go see who’s in the car.”

  The man looked surprised, but did as instructed. As he approached the Town Car, the front passenger door opened, and a man stepped out. They talked for a minute, then Neville’s man returned.

  “They thought you were trying to rob them,” he said. “That’s why they stayed in the car.”

  “And Cody?” Erin said, feigning patience.

  “There’s a boy with them. They picked him up by the side of the road. He was lost.”

  “Bring the boy,” Neville said.

  Erin felt the anger roll over her. He was going to get away with this.

  The man returned to the car, and a few minutes later, Cody Sanders climbed out. Blinking. Sleepy. Or just awakening from a different type of nightmare.

  One of the police officers hurried to the boy’s side and led him to one of the cruisers.

  Neville pasted on a smile. “This has been a terrible misunderstanding.”

  “You son of a bitch.” Erin started forward, but Alec grabbed her arm before she could launch herself at the man.

  Neville’s smile turned chilly. “You shouldn’t play games you can’t win, Officer Baker.”

  She pulled at Donovan’s grip, but he held tight.

  From the road, another stream of headlights flashed toward them, traveling fast. A half-dozen cars pulled in behind Neville’s caravan and four times that many men spilled out. Most held back, though, standing by their vehicles, except for the four walking directly toward them, stunning Erin.

  Associate Deputy Director for Intelligence Thomas Ward led the group.

  He approached the police sergeant and flashed his identification. “This is an international incident, Sergeant. We’ll take it from here.”

  The man hesitated—he had guts—and glanced back at Erin and Donovan, then nodded his acceptance of Ward’s authority. “Let’s go,” he said to his colleagues.

  As they started for their patrol cars, Ward turned to Neville. “General, I apologize on behalf of my government for this. You and your people are free to go.”

  Neville looked from Ward to Erin, still caught in Donovan’s grip. Then he gave the CIA director a curt nod and motioned for his men to follow as he headed for his limousine.

  “You can’t let him go,” Erin said.

  Ward ignored her. “Agent Donovan, I think young Mr. Sanders is your responsibility.”

  She saw the stubborn set of Donovan’s jaw but knew he could do nothing more for her here. She was at the mercy of the Agency, and to be honest, she didn’t give a damn if they threw the book at her.

  “Go ahead, Donovan,” she said. “Take the boy home.”

  Donovan hesitated a bit longer, then went to retrieve Cody from the waiting patrol car.

  Meanwhile, Erin watched Neville’s limousine slide past to the airport. “I can’t believe you’re just going to let him go. He’s a monster.”

  “That he is.”

  She crossed her arms, holding in the anger that was still bubbling inside her. “If you know, then why?”

  Ward moved away from the other men, nodding for Erin to follow. “We’ve been watching General Neville for some time.”

  “And you let him continue selling children?”

  “It’s not children he’s selling.” Pushing back his jacket, Ward slid his hands into his pockets and rocked a bit on his heels. “They’re more of a sideline for his more lucrative business dealings.”

  “Which are?”

  “He sells information. Biological formulas mostly, to the Middle East. Viruses. Antidotes. Anything desperate people are willing to sell, and disreputable governments are eager to buy.”

  She still didn’t understand, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. If the CIA knew about Neville’s business dealings and were turning a blind eye, she wanted no part of it. “If you know what he’s doing, why don’t you stop him?”

  “The enemy you see is far less dangerous than the enemy you don’t.” He pressed his lips together. “Tonight he’s on his way home with a formula for a new strain of anthrax. A particularly virulent strain. A disgruntled employee at the CAC sold it to him. Only”—he shrugged—“his buyers will never be able to reproduce the results.”

  “You’re feeding him disinformation.”

  “Yes.”

  “The enemy you control . . .”

  “Is valuable indeed.” She backed away, understanding, but not liking it. She’d never had any illusions about the Company, yet this infuriated her. Because of the children. “You knew all along that Neville had Cody, and you let me go after him. Why?”

  “I actually thought you had a good chance of rescuing the boy.” He smiled. “Which you did. But the real reason was that Neville found out you were CIA, and thought you were officially coming after him.” He shrugged. “We didn’t want to disabuse him of that notion. You kept him busy, preoccupied.”

  “While someone else . . .”

  “Was able to take the place of his seller and slip him a phony formula.”

  “You used me.”

  “Yes, but then, that’s your job. You do what we want, when we want. Without question.”

  The truth, but it stung. “You should have told me.”

  “You were more effective not knowing.”

  “And what about the children who are Neville’s sideline?”

  “There are casualties in every war, Officer Baker.”

  XXXII

  THE FOLLOWING TEN DAYS were particularly intense.

  Erin had spent hours at Langley, days it seemed, in endless meetings. Debriefings. Inquiries. She’d broken more rules and protocols than she could count, and not a few laws. In the end, she wasn’t certain if she still had a career with the Agency, or whether she even still wanted one. They didn’t dismiss her immediately, so she guessed that was something.

  The days had proffered good things as well. Marta and Janie had returned from Miami, sun-kissed and relaxed. Claire had moved home, despite her doctor’s protest. Erin had kept her promise. The situation was far from perfect. Claire would still have her moments of depression and withdrawal, and Erin and Marta would have to watch her closely. But Claire was family, their family, and they all wanted it to work.

  Also, Donovan stopped by with information about Cody and Ryan.

  They’d found Ryan’s family in Colorado: parents and three siblings, all younger, two sisters and a brother. Evidently he’d been taken when he was four, little more than a toddler, and sold. He claimed to have had four owners over the years, and the authorities were hunting them down. He, too, was going to have a difficult adjustment, but he’d shown remarkable courage in trying to help Cody, and everyone expected he’d do well with his family.

  As for Cody, he was back home. Where evidently nothing had changed, except maybe Cody himself.

  The two boys, though half a continent apart, were determined to keep in touch. And Erin suspected they could do anything they set their minds to.

  There was also news about Jacob Holmes. Donovan also told her what the FBI had found out about Jacob Holmes. Although no one could prove conclusively that he was the legendary Magician, everything pointed in that direction. On ten different occasions Holmes had been attending meetings or seminars in a city at the time that an unsolved kidnapping case occurred. But more damning than that were the charges filed against him, then dropped, when he was barely out of his teens. Charges of child molestation.

  So, after hearing the F
BI evidence herself, Erin admitted that the man who’d attacked her was most likely Jacob Holmes, and he was indeed dead.

  After that, the silence between her and Donovan grew awkward and uncomfortable. He stood, and she walked him to the front hallway, a part of her searching for a way to keep him from leaving, while another part held back, telling her to let him go. They’d made a tentative personal connection while searching for Cody, but the circumstances had been unreal, exaggerated, and maybe it was best if they just put it behind them. He was a reminder of everything that had happened, and a lot she’d rather forget.

  At the door, he turned, and she held her breath, afraid he would force the issue. And that he wouldn’t.

  “I’ll check back with you,” he said, “just to see how things are going with Claire.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  He searched her face, and she kept her expression carefully neutral. Just two colleagues saying good-bye.

  “Maybe not,” he said. “But I’d like to anyway.”

  Again, she didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know what she wanted from this man. If anything. Then she heard herself saying, “If things were different, if we’d met under different circumstances—”

  He cut her off. “That’s just an excuse, Erin. Another time, another place, you’d find another excuse.”

  She knew he was right, it was an excuse. There was more to her reluctance than wanting to forget. Getting involved with him would be dangerous in a way she couldn’t, wouldn’t risk. She had all she could handle with Claire and Janie. “Let it go, Alec.”

  “I’ll give you some time . . .” He glanced toward the stairs, then back at her. “But I won’t just walk away. This is not finished between us.” He leaned over and kissed her gently, quickly, before she could think to step away. Then he said, “It hasn’t even begun yet.”

  Then he was gone, and she felt his absence like a chill. Or maybe it was his promise to come back that had her wrapping her arms around her middle. Either way, she knew he’d keep his word. The only question was what she was going to do about it.