Joshua stirred and turned on his side.
Oh God, she had almost lost him.
Jonathan Ishmaru punched in Ogden’s number on the Ford’s car phone.
“Ishmaru,” he said when Ogden picked up the phone. “It can’t happen tonight.”
“Why not?”
“I had to leave the neighborhood. She came out and questioned me.” He stared ahead at the lights streaming down the highway, remembering Kate Denby standing only inches from him. He had been tempted to get out of the car and finish her, but that would have meant getting only one of his targets. “And then she said she was going to call Eblund.”
“Where are you?”
“About twenty miles from the house. I’ll go back tomorrow night.”
“And get your ass thrown in jail?”
“I’ll be prepared.”
“So will she. The place will probably be crawling with cops.” Ogden paused. “A bomb worked before. We’ll find a way of making it look like some kind of mob hit. It’s not unusual for them to make an example of the whole family. It will be safer than trying to go inside and kill them. That’s what you’re to do.”
He had expected this from Ogden, Ishmaru thought contemptuously. He always chose the coward’s way to vanquish enemies. “I gave you your bombs in Seattle. I even planted one here. You promised me the next one I could do my way.”
“You bungled it. I want you to change cars and go back tomorrow and plant a device. But don’t let her see you, for God’s sake.”
“My way. I’ll go in and kill the grandmother and the child and then make Kate Denby’s kill look like a suicide because she murdered the others.” He added regretfully, “But it would have been more effective tonight after the funeral.”
“You stupid Indian, who do you think is paying you?” Ogden hissed. “You’ll do what I tell you.”
Ishmaru smiled. It was Ogden who was stupid for thinking that he did this for the money. Ogden didn’t understand the glory. He didn’t understand the triumph.
He didn’t understand coup.
“I’ll call you tomorrow night,” Ishmaru said. He hung up the phone, reached into the glove compartment, and drew out the Polaroid he’d taken of Kate, Joshua, and Phyliss Denby at Michael Denby’s funeral. He propped it on the dashboard where he could occasionally catch glimpses of the three as he drove. It always gave him pleasure to anticipate the coming triumph.
That Kate Denby had not been in the car he’d rigged with the bomb was actually a good thing. On no account would he use a bomb again. It was too frustrating. All those lives gone and not one coup.
But he would have three tomorrow night. A knife for the child and the grandmother and a bullet for Kate Denby. Pity. He regarded using his hands as the ultimate coup, but he had to give Ogden something. Ogden wanted no questions asked, and Ishmaru tried to comply as long as he was given what he wanted.
And he wanted Kate Denby. She had been a surprise to him when she had marched out to confront him with that gun held ready under the raincoat. She had been unafraid, like a warrior going into battle. There were few warriors left in the world. It had pleased him to find one facing him tonight. Even if she was a woman and probably not worthy of the title. But in this day and age one must accept warriors where one found them.
He frowned as his gaze fastened on her figure in the picture. She reminded him of someone but he couldn’t quite . . . Oh well, it would come to him.
It did come to him. Emily Santos. Twelve years ago . . . A small, unimportant job. It was before he had become recognized as the warrior he was. Her husband had paid him to kill the woman for the insurance money. She had been small and blond and had fought him like a tiger. He reached up and touched a small white scar on his neck. Yes, he could see Emily in Kate Denby.
Really see her? he wondered suddenly. Had Emily’s spirit come back to take revenge? The thought intrigued him. If such a thing was possible, then Kate was indeed worthy of his attention. What a battle could rage between them.
He reached out and touched the photograph. “Emily?” It sounded right. But he must be sure. He would think about it.
He smiled at Kate/Emily in the photograph. She had a lovely throat. He almost hoped things would not go well tomorrow night so he could tell Ogden that the suicide scenario had been impossible to maintain.
He had not had his hands on the throat of a warrior in a long time.
* * *
FOUR
* * *
Okay, talk to me,” Kate said as soon as Noah Smith opened the door of the motel room. “I’ll give you thirty minutes. I have to get back to my son.”
“Nothing like pressure.” Noah stepped back from the door. “What if I can’t talk that fast?”
“I don’t think you’ll have any problem.” She entered the motel room and glanced around her. Shabby, clean, impersonal, like a million other third-rate motel rooms. “You did pretty well at the cemetery.”
“I was motivated. I didn’t know when I’d get another chance at you.” He pulled back the curtain at the picture window and looked out into the parking lot. “I don’t suppose you noticed if you were followed?”
My God, he was acting as if he were expecting a commando raid, Kate thought. “I noticed. I was careful. Nobody followed me.”
He let the curtain swing closed. “I’m surprised. I didn’t think you believed me.”
“I didn’t believe you. I still don’t believe you.”
“Then why are you here?” His gaze narrowed on her face. “Something happened?”
“The timer was Czechoslovakian.”
“And?”
“There was a man outside my house tonight. He had police credentials but he wasn’t police. He knew about Michael. He knew about Michael’s partner, Alan. Alan thought he was staking the house out for a robbery.”
“But you don’t?”
“He could have been.”
“But you’re suspicious enough to have come here.”
“Those credentials were very good. I saw my husband’s badge and ID for years, and I’d be hard to fool.”
“I’m glad to see you’re being logical.”
“I don’t feel logical. I feel very emotional.” She met his gaze. “You said my son was in danger. If I decide you’re lying, I’m going to walk out of here and tell the world Noah Smith is alive and definitely up to no good.”
“Good and bad are always relative.” He held up his hand. “Okay, I won’t wax philosophical. Neither of us is in the mood for it.”
He looked tired, she noticed suddenly. Not only tired but bone weary. “Were you hurt in the fire?”
“Minor concussion.” He glanced down at his bandaged hands. “First-degree burns. I’ll take these bandages off tomorrow.”
“How did you get out? That office building was in flames. I saw the film of the explosion on CNN.”
“So did I.” His lips tightened. “Two days later, after I woke up.”
He still hadn’t answered her. “How did you get out?” she repeated.
“My friend Tony Lynski had just come into the building. When he heard the first explosion in the east wing, he ran up to my office. He was in the outer office when the second bomb went off on the floor right below mine. He found me unconscious and managed to get me down the back stairs.”
“Then why weren’t you in the plant yard with the other wounded survivors?”
“Tony thought it best to bundle me into his car and take me away.”
“Why?”
He smiled lopsidedly. “He said that he remembered something I’d mentioned about RU2 and Hiroshima and the comparison leaped out at him after the explosions. He wasn’t sure I’d be safe in a hospital. Tony has very good instincts.”
She stared at him incredulously. “You’re saying that your plant was blown up just to kill you?”
“And to wipe out every vestige of RU2. Judging by the pictures I saw, I’d say he succeeded.”
“He?”
&nbs
p; “Raymond Ogden. You’ve heard of him?”
“Of course. Who hasn’t?” Smith’s story was becoming more and more bizarre. “You’re accusing him?”
“Damn right.” He studied her. “You’re having trouble taking all of this in.”
“You might say that.” She added ironically, “I wonder why?”
“Because you don’t know the key pieces. It’s like working on a puzzle with only the outside edges finished.”
“And is Michael’s death one of the key pieces?”
He shook his head. “I told you, he wasn’t involved at all. He died only because it was convenient.”
She flinched as though the words had struck her. “Convenient?”
“They wanted to make your death look like an accident. He was a policeman in a very dangerous job. If you died with him, it would be assumed that the bomb was meant for him.”
“It was meant for him.”
He shook his head. “It was meant for you.”
“No.”
“Yes.” He shrugged. “Ogden found out about you.”
She stared at him. “Found out what?”
“That I needed you. Maybe Ogden thinks you’re working with me already. He probably does or he wouldn’t place so much importance on you.”
“How would he know that you’ve even contacted me?”
“I thought about that. I had an expert come in and check my phones for bugs every week. She never found any. So I know Ogden didn’t have a transcript of our conversations. But he did know enough about you to jump to conclusions. The only thing I can think of is that he probably bribed someone at the phone company to give him a list of my calls. Over the last month you’d appear very frequently. Once he found out your profession, you were targeted too.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“And what about Joshua?”
“Joshua is like your ex-husband. If it’s convenient for him to die, he will die.”
“A little boy?”
“He will die,” he repeated. “Just as ninety-seven of my people died in that goddamn explosion.”
My people. The words were laden with both possessiveness and passionate bitterness. No matter what else she doubted, she couldn’t disbelieve how strongly he felt about this.
A chill went through Kate as she realized that if one part of his story was true, then the rest might also be true. Michael might have died because of her. Joshua could still die because it was “convenient.”
“I’m telling the truth.” His intent gaze was on her face. “What reason would I have to lie to you? What reason would I have to come halfway across the country when I’d be safer hiding out?”
“I don’t know.” She jammed her hands into her jacket pockets so he wouldn’t see that they were shaking. “I don’t know why you’d have to hide. I don’t understand any of this. I don’t know why anyone would want to kill me just because they thought I’d been hired by you.”
“RU2.”
“What the hell is RU2?”
He shook his head. “I think you’ve had enough to digest for right now.”
“The devil I have. You say I’m going to be killed because of RU2 and then you’re not going to tell me what it is?”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to tell you.” He picked up an army green windbreaker from the bed and pulled it on. “I said I was going to give you a little time. Come on, let’s go.”
“Go? I’m not going anywhere.”
“Just down the highway a mile or so,” he said. “There’s a truck stop and I need a cup of coffee.”
“Then get one after I leave.”
He shook his head. “Now.” He opened the door. “I still have ten minutes left and we’ll spend them at the diner.”
She stared at him in frustration. It would probably take ten minutes just to get to the diner. But extending the thirty minutes she’d agreed to give him wasn’t what bothered her. She felt frightened, uncertain and about to lose control. It was as if she’d fallen into quicksand the moment she’d walked into Smith’s motel room.
“Stop fighting me,” he said wearily. “We’ll take both cars so that you can leave when you like. What’s one cup of coffee?”
He was right, she was fighting over a triviality, she realized. It was the fear that had made her instinctively strike out. She didn’t like being afraid. If you were afraid, you couldn’t think, and she had to think and make judgments. For herself and for Joshua.
She brushed by him on her way out the door. “Okay. One cup of coffee.”
“One cup of coffee?” she asked sarcastically as she gazed at the empty plates in front of Noah. “You must have ordered half the menu.”
“I was hungry,” he said simply. “I had to hang around the motel room all evening. I didn’t want to miss you.” He lifted his fork with the last bite of apple pie and grinned at her. “And it was partly true. You had one cup of coffee.” He waved his hand at the waitress. “And it’s time you had another.”
“Do you always have this big an appetite?”
He nodded. “I like good food.”
But he looked as compact and tough as barbed wire. She said sourly, “And I suppose you’re one of those disgusting people who never put on a pound.”
“Sorry.” His gaze ran over her. “You can’t have any problems with weight.”
She scowled. “I run every day. If I didn’t exercise, I’d be a blimp.”
“But an interesting one.” He turned to the waitress who was hovering at his elbow. “Could we have more coffee?” He smiled. “And one more piece of pie, Dorothy?”
She smiled back as she served them. She’d been smiling at Noah since they’d walked into the diner, Kate thought. Women probably always smiled at Noah Smith. He had animal magnetism and charm. For the few minutes he’d spoken to Dorothy, he had made her feel as if she were the most important woman in his world.
His brow lifted when he saw Kate watching him. “What?”
“Nothing.” She grimaced. “I was just wondering if Dorothy was going to stick to you all night or give us some privacy.”
His gaze went to the waitress, who was now drawing coffee at the urn. “Nice woman.” He lifted his cup to his lips.
“Will you answer my questions now?” Kate asked.
“Drink your coffee.” He attacked the pie. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
She deliberately pushed her coffee cup away. “Now.”
He looked up and studied her. “Okay, I guess you don’t need the coffee. You’ve stopped shaking.”
She hadn’t realized he’d noticed. “I was cold.”
“You were scared. You were starting to believe me and it scared the hell out of you.” He pushed the pie plate to the side and gazed wistfully down into his coffee cup. He said, “You know, I quit smoking two years ago and the only time I miss cigarettes is after a good meal.”
She stared at him in astonishment. “You’re an expert on cancer research and you smoked ?”
“Pretty dumb, huh? I was always going to quit tomorrow.” He grimaced. “But tomorrow caught up with me. Two years ago I discovered I had lung cancer.”
Her eyes widened. “I hadn’t heard.”
“I didn’t go public with it.” He took a sip of coffee. “And you don’t have to look at me so hesitantly. I don’t have it anymore. My lungs are clear now.”
“I’m glad for you,” she said sincerely.
“Me too. Stupidity isn’t often so generously rewarded.” He smiled. “But it did give me a renewed appreciation for the pleasures of life. Though I wouldn’t prescribe the malady for the side effect.”
“No.” She found it hard to imagine Noah Smith sick or dying; he was too alive. And sitting across from her, looking very relaxed, he seemed very . . . human. Nothing at all like the aggressor he came across as at the medical conference. She found herself pushing his pie plate back in front of him. She said gruffly, “You might as well finish it. Dorothy will
be upset.”
“Ah, I’ve aroused your maternal impulses. And all it took was a fatal disease.” He dove into the pie again. “Are you a good mother, Kate?”
“Damn good. That’s why I’m here.”
“For Joshua’s sake.” He finished the pie and leaned back in the booth. “A good kid?”
“The best.”
“But good kids get sick, good kids have accidents, wounds become infected.” He looked at her. “Good kids die.”
She stiffened. “Are you threatening my son?”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare. Even in a lighted diner, I’d be afraid for my life.”
“Then what the hell do you mean?”
“I’m trying to tell you why ninety-seven people died in Seattle and two were killed here in Dandridge.”
“Then you’re not telling it very well. Why?”
“RU2.” He held up his hand as she opened her lips. “I know, I’m getting to it. I was trying to prepare you.”
“I don’t need preparation. I need answers. What’s RU2 and what does it have to do with Joshua?”
“It could save his life,” he said simply. “RU2 is a universal immune cocktail. I’ve developed a drug that will strengthen the cellular immune system enough to repel almost any attack.”
She stared at him in shock. “That’s not possible,” she whispered. “We’re twenty years away from anything close to that.”
He shrugged. “So I leapfrogged. Six years ago I was studying interleukin genes and went down a path that intrigued me. I ran into a treasure trove.”
Then maybe tangents are the way to go, Phyliss had said.
She shook her head dazedly. “It’s not possible.”
“I did it,” Noah said. “I couldn’t believe it myself at first. And it took another four years of testing and refining to convince me that it wasn’t a fluke.” He held her gaze. “It’s not a fluke. RU2 works, Kate.”
“That means . . .” The possibilities were tumbling through her mind. “Alzheimer’s, AIDS, cancer . . . You’re sure it’s universal?”
“If the immune cells are strong enough and the disease isn’t in its last stages, RU2 can lick anything I’ve thrown at it.”
Long After Midnight Page 7