by Ciana Stone
“But—” She started to ask why he would do such a thing,
“No questions.” He put his finger to her lips to silence her. When she nodded, he removed his hand. “Do you remember the lighter? The one I gave you?”
At first she frowned, but then she remembered. He had told her that she was to light it when they passed the rug merchant’s house. “Yes,” she answered.
“There was a detonation device inside it. That’s what activated the explosion.”
She frowned but didn’t speak. It didn’t make any sense to her. Why would he want everyone to think he was dead?
“I had to do it,” he said, seeming to sense her unspoken question. “I’ve made a discovery, Senna. A remarkable, impossible, amazing discovery unlike anything that anyone has ever imagined—and there are people who would kill to gain that knowledge. Threats were made against us. I had no choice. As long as I was alive we were both in danger. They would have stopped at nothing to get the information.”
“Both?” She forgot her promise not to interrupt. “You said both. What about Mom?”
He looked away for a few moments and when he turned to face her again she could see the pain in his eyes. He looked so forlorn and sad that tears came to her eyes. She assumed it was because her mother had died. His answer shocked her.
“Mom was working for them, honey.”
Her mouth fell open in shock. “No! You’re lying!”
“I wish to God I was.” He gripped her hand tighter to keep her from jumping off the bed. “Senna, believe me, there’s nothing I’d wish for more than for it to be a lie. I loved her so much. I would never have imagined that she would…that she would do something like this. But that goes to show that love really is blind. We see what we want to see and not what’s really there. You have no idea how I felt when I discovered that it was Andrea who was leaking the information to the Iraqis. At first I refused to believe it. But then I was shown proof.”
“Why? Why would she do it?”
He blinked at the tears that gathered in his eyes. “Money. Power. The usual things. The point is, she wasn’t who I thought she was, and she didn’t feel the way I thought she did. She was using me, using you, to further her own means.”
“That’s crazy!” Senna considered what had happened and came up with her own theory. “If she had been working with them they wouldn’t have killed her. Right? So, you’re wrong because it was the Iraqis who shot her.”
Lucas released her hands and stood. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his pants and walked over to the window, his back to her as he stood there staring outside. His shoulders slumped and shook then straightened. He turned to face her. “They found out she was taking outside bids and was going to sell the information to the highest bidder.”
“What do you mean?”
“I stumbled onto her plan quite by accident. She had managed to make contact with important people in several countries, feeding them tidbits of what she knew. Considering the magnitude of the discovery, it didn’t take long before a great many people were interested. I fed that information to the Iraqis which let them know she was double-crossing them. Then I convinced her she had to leave the country and take you with her. She thought I had hidden something in your luggage and I assume she was going to take possession of it and use it to drive the bid higher.”
“You tried to have us killed!” She shot off the bed, coming at him with both fists swinging. “I hate you! You bastard, you tried to kill us! You killed my mother!”
“No,” he shouted, struggling to get her under control. “Senna, listen to me. Stop!”
She ignored him and continued to hit at him. At last he managed to get hold of her wrists. Unable to use her hands, she resorted to kicking. “I only had her killed,” he shouted.
She froze in midmotion. “It’s true,” he admitted. “I set her up. But not for the reason you think. It wasn’t to get even. It was to protect us. She was using you too, honey. You were carrying part of the information on you and I had hinted that you knew more, that I had told you certain things while we were on the trip to the mountains. She needed you only for the information she thought you had.”
“That’s not true!” The idea that her mother cared no more for her than he said cut deep into her heart. “She was my mom. She loved me.”
“No, she wasn’t.” Her father’s voice was almost a whisper.
Legs that had moments before felt strong enough to kick down a door suddenly collapsed beneath her. Lucas caught her as she slumped and helped her to sit on the bed. “What do you mean?” she asked. “She had to be my mom.”
He shook his head. “Not by birth.”
“But—but…” she stammered in confusion. “But if she wasn’t…if she’s not my mom…were you married to someone else before her? Is that it? You and my real mom split up when I was a baby and Mom adopted me?”
He smiled gently. “I was never married before.”
“But you’re my real dad, right?”
“In many ways, yes, I am. I love you as much as if you were my real daughter, but the truth is, you’re not.”
“You mean you adopted me?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Do you know who my real parents are?”
“Your biological mother is dead. She was killed by a very bad man who wanted something she had. When she wouldn’t give it to him, he killed her.”
“What about my da— My biological father? Do you know who he is?”
He nodded and held out his hand. She didn’t understand what he was doing but gave him her hand. He pulled her to her feet and walked her out of the bedroom and into the living quarters. A man standing by the window turned to look at them.
“Senna, meet your father,” Lucas said. “Your biological father.”
Senna’s entire body jerked as the man’s face in the memory was revealed and she jolted back to the present. “Oh, my god.” She looked at Emory. “I remember.”
He smiled and reached out to take her hand. “What is it that you remember, dear?”
“You,” she could only whisper, the shock of remembering was so profound. “I remember you. You’re Marcus Graham Laserian. My real father.”
He smiled at her. “You cannot imagine how good it is to see you again, Senna. So many years have passed and so much has happened. There were times when I feared we would never see one another again, at least not when you would know me for who I am. As selfish as it is, I’m glad to have this moment. I’ve missed you so much.”
She squeezed his hand. “This is so strange. All these years I’ve missed them so much, never remembering that they weren’t really my parents. It feels…odd…to remember.”
“Remembering doesn’t have to change the feelings you had for them.”
“At least not for my dad,” she said. “I’m sorry. For Lucas. I did— I do love him. I always will. Even though he wasn’t my father by birth, he was still my dad. I hope this doesn’t hurt you, but I can’t change how I feel.”
“I wouldn’t want you to. I loved him as well. He was my brother and my friend and he died to save us both. We owe him a great deal.”
“Yes, we do.” She disengaged her hand from his and rose to walk over to the window. “The question is, are we capable of doing what needs to be done?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“On whether we are successful in locating the Gate.”
She was surprised by the statement. “You mean you don’t know where— Lucas didn’t tell you?”
“It was one of the fail-safes of our plan. Neither of us had all the information. That way, should either of us be captured, the information that could be taken from us would be incomplete. You were the only one with full access and even your ability is limited. You cannot complete the final sequence without activating the final Gate.”
She turned away and stared out at the overcast sky. As she did, other memories started to return. She put one hand to her f
orehead and closed her eyes. A moment later she felt Marcus’ hand on her arm.
“It would probably be best if you remained inactive for the next day or so,” he advised. “The memories will be returning and there may be periods of disorientation as your mind attempts to assimilate the knowledge.”
She let him lead her back to the table. She wanted to tell him that she needed to get back home, but at the moment she couldn’t make her lips form the words. She was once more lost in the past.
* * * * *
Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department
“What did her aunt say?” Ryan asked as Justin handed him a cup of coffee.
“Just that she didn’t know where Senna is. But Kendal said she wasn’t very friendly. She thinks Senna may have told her aunt about Kendal spilling the beans about Senna being in therapy with Dr. Drake, and Ms. Laserian is pissed about it.”
“Could be,” Ryan agreed. “From what I know, Senna and her aunt are very close. If she would have talked to anyone about it, it would probably have been her aunt.”
“How well do you know Minora Laserian?” Justin asked. “According to Kendal, she’s very well off and donates a lot of money to charities but no one seems to know her very well. She’s something of a mystery, the way I hear it.”
“I’ve never met her,” Ryan replied. “A couple of times I suggested it to Senna, when I thought things were, you know, getting serious. But each time she found an excuse to the contrary. I almost got the impression she didn’t want me to meet her aunt. Why, I don’t know. Unless she was embarrassed to be dating a lowly cop.”
“That doesn’t sound like Senna,” Justin said. “Maybe it’s just that—”
“Hey, Baldwin!” a voice came from the door. “Your wife’s on the phone. Says it’s urgent.”
Justin took his coffee and left the break room. Ryan walked with him. He had a lot of paperwork to do, so he might as well get started. Justin picked up the phone on his desk. “Hi, honey… What?… Jesus, are you sure?… Okay, just calm down. I’m on my way.”
Ryan had stopped beside Justin’s desk when he heard the tone of Justin’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Kendal just found Ian Drake dead in his office.”
“How?” Ryan hoped it was not another in the series of gruesome murders.
“Hanged,” Justin answered as he dialed a number on the phone.
Ryan didn’t ask any more. As Justin talked to the medical examiner’s office to have a team sent to Ian’s office, Ryan downed his coffee and tossed the cup into the trashcan. Justin hung up the phone and started for the door.
“I’m coming with you,” Ryan said.
“What about Paige?”
“We’ll leave word for her.”
Justin stopped at the captain’s door and knocked. At a directive from inside he opened the door. “We’ve got another death, sir.”
“Shooting?” Prichard looked up from paperwork.
“Hanging.”
“Who?”
“Ian Drake, the psychiatrist my wife works for. She found him when she opened the office.”
Prichard frowned for a moment then his eyebrows rose. “Isn’t that the shrink who’s treating the Laserian woman?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, get on it. And round up Dalton and take him with you.”
“Already done, sir.” Ryan looked around the corner.
“Then get going. And keep me posted.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ryan and Justin headed for the elevator. Ryan was already getting the first twinge in his stomach. The only difference between this time and all the others was that now he wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was due to the fact that he was about to look at death once more, or the fact that yet another person who knew Senna was dead.
* * * * *
Southeast Charlotte
Konnor was surprised to find Shen waiting for him when he parked his car behind the martial arts school. No words passed between them as Ryan unlocked the back door and turned on the lights. Once inside, they went to his office. Shen took a seat by the window, looking out. Konnor sat down behind his desk and waited.
“What has she told you of her past?” Shen asked.
“Not much. Only what I’ve already told you.”
“Then she has not yet remembered anything of her missing years?”
“Not except that one instance of being in the house with her father when he gave her the lighter with the detonator in it.”
“It is peculiar that he would have such a device.”
“Yeah, but then almost everything about this situation is strange.”
“Laserian was an archaeologist.” Shen turned to look at him. “While he may have been brilliant in many areas, to my knowledge he knew nothing of explosives. So, I must ask, how did he devise such a sophisticated detonator?”
“Maybe he didn’t,” Konnor said. “Maybe he had help.”
“Exactly.” Shen nodded.
After a few moments Konnor leaned forward in his chair. “Are you saying that he did, or implying that he might have?”
“He did.”
“And you know who it was?”
Shen nodded and this time Konnor stood. “Who?”
“Someone we have long had cause to tread carefully around.”
“Can you be more specific?”
Shen smiled and stood. “In all the years of our association, what has been one of the most basic tenets of our training?”
“To look beyond the obvious to the subtle. That what is real is often hidden in the illusion of shadows, and that truth is best hidden between two lies.”
Shen inclined his head. “Use what I have taught you to find the answers.”
Konnor bowed his head. When he raised it, Shen had gone. He thought about it for a while. “So who is it?” he asked. An idea occurred to him but he tried to dismiss it. “Is it possible?” he asked aloud. The silence of the room was the only answer except for a small voice in his mind. When has Slater ever played anything straight? And how could he know so much about this if he wasn’t a part of it all along? But then, how does Shen know so much? And if he already has all the answers, what does he need me for?
“Questions,” he growled. “Questions upon questions and not a damn answer in sight. Goddamn, Senna, where the hell are you?”
* * * * *
Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department
“Can I have a word with you, Detective Dalton?” Captain Prichard’s voice caused Ryan to halt on the way to his desk.
“Yes, sir.”
“In my office,” Prichard said and led the way.
He saw Paige look up from her seat at her desk and was grateful for Prichard’s request. At that moment he would take any excuse to be out of proximity to her. Paige looked at him as he walked past her. He saw her out of the corner of his eye but didn’t turn his head.
He knew she wanted to talk about what had happened last night, but that was the last thing he wanted to discuss. He had purposely been avoiding her all day just for that reason.
It had not been easy, especially when she showed up at Ian Drake’s office. Thinking about Drake brought a frown to Ryan’s face. He was relieved that Ian’s death didn’t fit the pattern of the other murders, but thought it highly unlikely that Ian had committed suicide.
Paige had tried to corner him as he left the scene, on the excuse of talking about how it was connected with Senna. He had begged off, saying he had to get back and make an important call. She must have known he was lying because she asked him what the problem was. She thought they had both had a good time and enjoyed themselves.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed himself. On the contrary. She was extraordinary in bed. He had found himself being more aggressive and demanding than he could remember being with a woman, and she loved it. Without reservation, he could admit that it was one of the most exciting sexual encounters of his life. The problem was, he wasn’t sure he wanted a repeat
performance.
Even thinking about it caused a break in his stride. Any man in his right mind would gladly trade places with him. How many men had such an opportunity dropped in their laps? No commitments, no responsibilities, just great sex whenever he wanted. He would be a fool to turn it down, and yet that was what he was almost sure he would do. He might not ever again have a night like the one he spent with Paige, but he was willing to sacrifice that for other, more important things, like trust, respect and love.
Captain Prichard interrupted his thoughts as they entered the office. “I understand there’ve been no leads on Dr. Laserian.”
“No, sir. We’re still waiting on the report from the credit cards to see if there’s been any activity in the last twenty-four hours.”
Prichard sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk. “You think this Drake thing is connected?”
“I really don’t know, sir.”
“But you have some thoughts?”
“Yes, sir. I’m not convinced that Drake committed suicide, despite the evidence. According to Kendal Baldwin, he had not shown any signs of being upset or agitated in any way. Also, the medical examiner found a bruise on his neck, just under his jaw. He said it looked like someone had grabbed Drake from behind, which would indicate there might have been a struggle.”
Prichard nodded. “Have the report sent to me when the lab sends it down. In the meantime, what do we know about Southgate?”
“I managed to speak with him this morning on my way in. We’re on for eight tomorrow evening.”
“Do you think he suspects anything?”
“No, sir. I called on the pretense of letting him know about the Pierce-Warner murder, since it seems connected with the other two, and inquiring whether the FBI has decided to take all the cases off our hands.”
“And?”
“He said that in the interest of cooperation and goodwill among departments, the Bureau thinks it best that we continue with all of the investigation and that Southgate assist us in whatever way he can. He implied that the Bureau will not step in as long as he is satisfied with the way we’re handling things.”
“Good. At least that much is running in our favor. But we still have a major problem. Unless we locate Dr. Laserian before the meeting there’s a good possibility we may blow it.”