by Gerri Hill
Sara nodded, her smile fading when she glanced at her father. His eyes were always so angry when he looked at her. Even as a child, he’d always looked at her with contempt, like he was mad at her for something she had yet to do. She certainly didn’t understand it then. And even now as an adult, she couldn’t believe that all of this anger was over her sexual orientation. But no. They’d always clashed, well before she was coming of age. When she was younger, she used to think his anger toward her was because she was a girl and not the son he must have wanted. It was easier to think that rather than believing your own father simply despised you for no reason at all.
Arthur flipped on lights as they descended into the bunker. She shook her head, wondering at the paranoia her father suffered through, even now. Really. A bunker? Who had a bunker? As a kid, she was always embarrassed by it, refusing to let any of her friends know it even existed. She was embarrassed by it, yes. But she had also been afraid of it. It was dark. It was hollow. Many a night she’d woken up with nightmares, imagining her father locking her away under the earth, refusing to let her come to the surface. She felt a chill and she tried to shake it off. How easy would it be for her father to imprison her here?
“She’s down here,” Arthur said, motioning down a long hallway.
“Why is she down in the bunker, Arthur? Why not her suite?”
Arthur shook his head. “I’m not sure, Miss Sara. Her doctor, Dr. Patterson, came the other night. But before that, Mr. Dodds brought in his own doctor. I think his name was Hammonds. Real young guy.”
“Is she okay? I mean, is it serious?”
“Like I said, your father hasn’t told me anything.” Arthur looked over his shoulder, then lowered his voice. “The staff tells me she’s being kept sedated.”
Sara stopped. “What do you mean?”
“She’s not been very coherent on the occasions I’ve been allowed to visit with her.”
Sara shook her head. “She was fine the last time I talked with her. What could possibly have happened?”
Arthur tapped lightly on the door then opened it. Sara was not only surprised to find someone else in the room, but she was surprised to find her mother in bed, sheet pulled nearly to her neck.
“Mrs. Reynolds. How is she?”
“Still sleeping.”
He nodded. “Why don’t you take a break?”
“The senator instructed me not to leave.” She glanced at her watch. “She’s due her next dose in an hour.”
Arthur smiled. “This is Sara. Her daughter. Let’s give them a moment, please. The senator is aware she’s here.”
“Of course.” She got up. “Nice to meet you, Sara. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’ll just be in the hallway.”
Sara nodded as the older woman left the room. She looked at Arthur as she moved to her mother’s bedside. “Who is she?”
“She’s been on staff for the last three years. She oversees the housekeeping crew.”
Sara pulled the sheet off her mother, her eyes wide as she stared at her. Yes, she appeared to be asleep. She gently shook her shoulder.
“Mother? Wake up. It’s me, Sara.” There was no response. “Mother?”
Sara felt her skin. It was cool to the touch. Cool and clammy. She lightly patted her mother’s face, then with more force when there was still no response.
“Arthur? What the hell? It’s like she’s unconscious.” Sara lifted up one of her mother’s arms and released it, watching as it fell lifelessly to the bed. “What has he done to her?” she asked quietly.
“I’m afraid I don’t know anything. For the last several months, your father has been keeping counsel solely with Mr. Dodds. I’ve been reduced to little more than a messenger, I’m afraid.”
“Arthur? You were always his right-hand man for as long as I can remember. What happened?”
“The run for the presidency, I suppose. Dodds has brought in this Ramsey guy. It’s all very secretive.” He shrugged. “I appear to be the odd man out.”
Ramsey? She drew her brows together, finally remembering Jaime’s words that night by the river. “Ramsey. Squirrelly white dude.” Was it a coincidence? She frowned, trying to remember the conversation. Jaime said the FBI guy that approached her, Ramsey, said he’d spoken directly to Sara. But Sara had only talked with Erickson and Fielding. Never a Ramsey.
Muted voices in the hallway brought Sara back to the present. She glanced at Arthur then moved her eyes to the doorway as her father filled the space.
Sara pointed at her mother. “What have you done to her?”
He smiled. “She hasn’t been herself lately, Sara. She’s been distraught over these death threats. Her doctor recommended that she be sedated.”
“Sedated? She’s practically catatonic. What doctor would do this? Do this and leave her here without being monitored? I can’t believe Dr. Patterson authorized this?”
“It’s not really your concern, is it Sara? I have everything under control.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I said turn this fucking car around,” Jaime yelled. “Ramsey. He was there.”
“I’m telling you, there is no Ramsey,” Erickson said again.
“And I’m telling you, the guy who called himself Ramsey, the guy who flashed an FBI badge, was there with the senator.”
Erickson and Fielding exchanged glances.
“Are you certain?”
“I am positive,” she said.
“Because if you’re not certain, we can’t just go barging into the senator’s home. He’s got his own security, for one thing. Not to mention the Secret Service agents assigned to him during the campaign.”
“It was him. I never forget an asshole. There were two men with the senator when you brought Sara to them. One was Ramsey.”
Erickson nodded. “Okay. We’ll go back. But if you’re wrong, you’re taking the fall, not me.”
“Yeah. Whatever. Sue me,” she muttered, holding on as the driver made a sharp turn on I-25, then bounced them through the median and onto the southbound lane.
Sara caught her breath as Dodds and Ramsey followed her father into the room. She’d known Dodds most of her life and was used to the looks of disgust he normally gave her. Ramsey, however, she was not used to. His eyes were cold, empty. A predatory smile appeared as he watched her.
She swallowed the lump of fear in her throat, then addressed her father. “I believe she needs to be in a hospital. She looks comatose to me.”
“No, Sara. She’s fine. She’s just heavily sedated. And if she’s not . . .” he said with a shrug. “Doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Sara’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about her, I’m talking about you. I’m talking about this so-called marriage.” He turned to Arthur. “You may go, Arthur. I no longer require your services today.”
“Yes, sir. But I tend to agree with Miss Sara. Your wife does not look well, sir. Perhaps I should call Dr. Patterson.”
“Yes, you always did tend to agree with Sara, didn’t you? Well, as I said, you are dismissed, Arthur. There is nothing here that concerns you.”
“Very well.” He bowed slightly in Sara’s direction then excused himself.
As soon as Arthur was gone, Sara realized how completely alone she was. Alone and at the mercy of her father. She squared her shoulders, determined not to show the fear that was threatening to strangle her breath.
“We have a slight predicament, Sara,” her father stated. He motioned to Ramsey who walked fully into the room, standing between Sara and her mother. “You see, your mother overheard something she shouldn’t have. Therefore, we’ve had to keep her sedated. She’s what you might call under house arrest,” he said with a laugh.
“House arrest? Surely you’re not serious.”
“He’s very serious,” Dodds said. “And enough of this small talk, Peter. Let’s get this over with.”
“What are you talking about?” Sara deman
ded. She jerked away when Ramsey moved to take her arm. “Get away from me.”
“I don’t know how you did it but you foiled our plan, Sara. But all good plans have a backup.”
She stared at Dodds, shocked by his tone. The soft-spoken man she remembered had a dangerous gleam in his eyes, a gleam that was mirrored by both her father and Ramsey.
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s talking about the man who was hired to kill you, Sara.”
Sara’s breath caught at her father’s words. “You? You did that?” she asked, her voice now shaking with fear. “You would consent to having your own daughter killed?”
He laughed. “That’s the funny part about it all. You see, you’re not really my daughter.” He pointed at the bed. “She had an affair. She thought I wouldn’t find out.”
“Oh my God,” Sara whispered. She glanced at her mother who lay still, unconscious and oblivious to them and their conversation.
“Yes. And even if I had not known of the affair, I still would have figured it out, Sara. No child of mine could possibly turn out like you. You’ve made a mockery of me and my life. You go against everything I stand for.” He walked closer. “And you stand between me and the presidency.”
“You are insane. I think you’ve really lost your mind.” She moved away from him but her mother’s bed prevented any further escape. “Did you actually think you could get away with it?”
“Yes, Sara, we did. And we will. Do you think this is our first time?” Dodds said with a laugh.
“What do you mean?”
“Your biological father, of course.” He snapped his fingers. “Ramsey, take her to the holding cell.”
“Holding cell?” Sara again jerked her arm away from Ramsey but he grabbed her. “I said, let go of me!” she yelled. Without thinking, she slammed the back of her fist against his face, stunning him. A sidekick to his hips knocked him down. Before she could go after Dodds, Ramsey reached out an arm and took her legs out from under her. She landed hard on the floor then felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against her forehead.
“Not real smart, Sara,” Dodds said as he squatted down beside her. “Careful. Ramsey’s got an itchy finger.” He laughed quietly. “Now get up.”
Sara got to her feet, her eyes filled with fear as she met the cold, indifferent eyes of her father.
“Take her.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Jaime tapped the seat impatiently as they carefully maneuvered through traffic. As the driver came to a stop at a yellow light, she threw her hands up.
“Jesus Christ! It’s a wonder you didn’t get rear-ended,” she said loudly. “Nobody stops at yellow lights!”
“Will you calm down, Detective.”
“No, I will not calm down! I thought we were in a hurry. Whatever happened to weaving in and out of traffic, running lights and blaring the horn at anyone who got in the way? That’s what they do on TV.”
“We’re not in a police cruiser, Detective. And technically, we’re not in crisis mode,” Erickson said.
Without thinking, Jaime pulled out her weapon, pointing it directly at the driver. “I say we’re in fucking crisis mode! Now run this goddamn red light!” she yelled.
“Put the gun down, Detective. This is not helping,” Erickson said reasonably.“Run the goddamn light!” she screamed.
They all pitched backward as the driver floored it, shooting them through the intersection as cars skidded to a halt around them, all blowing horns at them.
“Okay, that’s more like it,” she said, lowering her weapon. “We don’t have time to piss around here, Erickson.”
Erickson turned around in the seat, pointing his finger at her. “Don’t think you won’t be cited for that, Detective.”
“Well thankfully, I don’t work for you.”
“And you never will. Discipline is apparently not your strong suit.”
Jaime laughed. “Sticks and stones, Agent.”
“I’m serious. Your captain will hear of this. You do not pull a weapon in the goddamn car.”
“Whatever,” she murmured. She clapped the driver on the shoulder, nearly smiling at the wide eyes that looked back at her in the rearview mirror. “Just get us there.”
Sara only thought she’d known fear. But with hands tied behind her and the unmistakable feel of a gun pressed against her back, the fear they’d lived with in the mountains—with an assassin on their trail—was nothing compared to the hopelessness she now felt. There was no Jaime to come to the rescue, there was no ghost town to hide her and no retired police detective to mysteriously show up and lend help.
And the person she’d known as her father had turned into a madman. Her mind was reeling with questions as she preceded Ramsey down the long, dark hallway, her boots clicking loudly in the deserted bunker. Had her mother really had an affair? And had her biological father really been murdered by these people? No wonder a murder-for-hire to get rid of the lesbian daughter was so easy for them. They’d done it before. Perhaps many times. Apparently, the nightmare of the last two weeks was quickly coming to an end. Her mother was sedated to the point of unconsciousness and her lone ally in the entire estate was Arthur, but he’d been dismissed for the evening. She realized how totally alone she was.
Alone and on her own.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Shut up. That doesn’t concern you.”
“I beg to differ. I’m the one with a gun pressed to my back.” When he didn’t respond, she tried another approach. “You’re Ramsey, the guy who pitched the death threats to the police. To Detective Hutchinson.” Again he said nothing. “Would have been funny if the real FBI contacted them too. I guess your plan would have backfired.”
“The FBI was too busy chasing down bogus leads we’d planted. They weren’t concerned with you until we put a bug in their ear.”
“A bug so they could find my body,” she stated. “Sorry that didn’t work out for you. But you know, you probably should have used a different name. I mean Ramsey? Not very common. When Hutchinson mentions you to the FBI, don’t you think they’ll come looking for you?”
“Keep quiet. Like I said, it doesn’t concern you. After tomorrow, nothing will concern you,” he added with a laugh.
“Now keep your mouth shut when we get there,” Erickson said as they approached the locked and guarded gate to the senator’s estate. “We don’t have a warrant, so we’re at their mercy as to whether they let us in or not.”
“A warrant? We don’t need a warrant, for God’s sake.”
“He has security or have you forgotten that, Detective? They’ll have to notify the senator when we get there. There’s nothing to say he’s got to see us.”
“Well, the way you get around a warrant, Special Agent, is to say we need to visit some more with the senator’s daughter. And yes, we’ll be happy to wait inside while you call him,” Jaime said. “All we need is to get inside the front door. See, no warrant because we were escorted in.”
“We’re not the local police, Detective. Anything we do will be scrutinized. And any hope of prosecution is hampered by not following protocol.”
“Fuck protocol. And why the hell are we worrying about prosecution at this point? We need to be worrying about saving her life.”
“I realize that, Detective. But we have rules.”
“And fuck your goddamn rules. We just need to get inside the house.”
“That’s all well and good but we probably need more than just getting inside. Rumor has it the senator’s got a fully functional bunker below ground.”
“A bunker? What the hell?”
“He’s paranoid, from what we hear,” Fielding explained. “The bunker is supposedly safe from nuclear attack as well as chemical warfare.”
“It’s fully stocked with supplies to last a full year,” Erickson added. “Along with a functional communication system.”
“A bunker? Who in the hell has a bunker?”
�
��Rich, powerful, paranoid men.”
“Or someone who’s got something to hide,” she said. “Well, I guess we know where they’ve taken her.”
“Yeah, we just got some more information as we were heading back to Denver,” Erickson said as they stood next to the car on the massive circular driveway. “We thought we might as well get with her now instead of hauling her ass up to Denver tomorrow.”
The man smoothed his trim beard, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate that. Let me find out where they are.”
Jaime was about to suggest they wait inside when the front door opened. One of the men who was with the senator earlier came out.
“What is it, O’Riley?”
“FBI came back,” he said. “They have some more questions for Ms. Michaels.”
The man paused only a moment as he stared at them, then nodded. “Of course. Why don’t you come inside? I’ll give the senator a call.”
Jaime let out a relieved sigh as they followed him into the mansion. She barely took the time to look around, her eyes glued to this man.
“I’m Arthur, Senator Michaels’ aide. They are actually in the bunker with Miss Sara.” He looked quickly over his shoulder, making sure they were alone before continuing. “I’m actually relieved you’re here,” he said, his voice low. “I was contemplating calling the local police.”
“What is it?” Erickson asked.
“The senator and Mr. Dodds have been acting very strange for the last several weeks or so. Along with this Ramsey that Dodds has brought in. And what they’ve done to Mrs. Michaels should be a crime.” He cleared his throat. “I most likely will lose my position with the senator if he learns what I’ve told you but I’m extremely concerned for Miss Sara.”
“Arthur, we’re concerned for Sara as well. What exactly is going on here?”
“Look,” Jaime said impatiently. “Can’t we walk and talk at the same time? Where’s the bunker?”