by Lynn Moon
Chapter 53
“HELLO?”
“Ms. Clarke… how are you and how is your friend?”
“Jeff? What a nice surprise,” Carrie replied. “We’re both fine.”
Carrie glanced up at Maddie who smiled. As Carrie listened and Lewis spoke, Maddie finished the breakfast dishes and straightened up the kitchen. Carrie was still on the phone when Maddie shoved a load of dirty clothes into the washer. Maddie was folding bath towels in the living room when Carrie finally clicked off her cell phone to join her.
“Hmmm, seems there’s more going on than what meets the eye,” Carrie mused.
“What do you mean?” Maddie asked while folding a dark green bath towel.
“Well, Jeff sent us out here to investigate a hospital, right? But he just called and changed our plans. It seems one of our agents interviewed Tyler and Caiden today. She wasn’t there for The Agency, but on assignment from a classified research facility that also doubles as a mental institution. Lewis gave her the assignment years ago to get in tight with the facility’s Director just to keep a tab on him. I guess he never gave it much thought. But, she’d done her job rather well. After all this time, she still works for the facility as an investigator. He wants Lacey and me to go there and do some snooping. We’ll be posing as hikers… campers who just happen to stumble into their backyard.”
“Really?” Maddie added, now separating the freshly dried and folded towels by their color and size.
“Funny how this stuff works, isn’t it?” Carrie asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Tyler calls you because she’s concerned about where she works and she doesn’t feel safe. Then Jeff sends us out here to investigate a hospital. And our agent secretly working for a place that’s connected with it… that research facility, and then that same agent visits Tyler and Caiden asking about blood samples. It just seems weird, that’s all.”
Maddie looked at Carrie and frowned. “What blood samples?”
“Don’t know. But I do know Skyler’s escorting samples from those women who killed their families to headquarters. Jeff’s notifying her to watch out for anything unusual. But why?”
“I don’t like this. The last time our government decided they could do whatever they wanted many children were murdered. Just ask Lacey about it, she’ll tell you. This is not a good sign,” Maddie surmised staring into Carrie’s eyes.
“She’s a pretty tough girl, that Lacey,” Carrie added. “Whatever happened to her as a kid doesn’t seem to affect her now.”
“Don’t be so fast to jump to conclusions. We can hide our feelings for years before they surface,” Maddie added before grabbing the towels and leaving the room.
Carrie’s phone rang and she was pleased to hear her boyfriend’s voice. Carrie and Devon talked for only a few minutes before he had to run. She stared at her now quiet phone and wondered if she still loved him as much as she used to. They hardly ever saw each other anymore, and they were never home at the same time. Over the last couple of years, Carrie’s work at The Agency changed her, made her more independent. But there was still a little something inside her that needed Devon. Every time she heard his voice, she felt secure and safe. Not to mention it was still wonderful to hear his voice even if it was for only a few minutes.
Chapter 54
EARLY LAY ON her cot as memories of her family flooded through her mind, shifting her soul from calmness to torment. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she remembered her precious daughters, Nevada and Dakota, and how hard they worked to make a snowman in their front yard. They were so cute with their thin hair pulled into ponytails and little knitted scarves wrapped around their necks. No matter how hard they worked, the dingy little snowman never seemed to get any higher than a couple of feet.
Their bedroom was always neat and tidy. Dolls of different kinds lined the shelves fully dressed, as if ready to go out for the day. If one hair was out of place, the girls immediately attended to their little people’s need. Green floral curtains and matching spreads decorated their bright yellow room. Twin beds were never slept in, the girls preferred to cuddle on the floor under tons of blankets and pillows.
Dakota was the first to walk and talk. She was a little bigger than Nevada but to look at them now, it was impossible to tell them apart. Their love filled a room with warmth and their smiles calmed even the most hostile of emotions. At only three years of age, they spoke in clear and concise sentences. They were toilet trained before two, and wanted nothing to do with being dirty.
Her son Daren, on the other hand, was all boy. At seven, dirt clung to him like iron to a magnet. His favorite place was high in the trees, where he could hide in the branches and watch the world go by. Daren’s room was always a mess with his cars and trucks scattered about the floor. Daren’s hugs and kisses were worth waiting for every afternoon as he bounced off the school bus. Early and the girls waited anxiously on the corner every day, Monday through Friday, for the bus to climb the hill and stop two houses away by a big oak tree. Daren was always the first off.
“Mom,” Daren yelled. “I got an ‘A’ in science.” Or math, or whatever it would be.
Early always lagged behind as Daren and the girls strolled to the house. She’d wave to the bus driver as he headed down the road to drop off other children.
But now, instead of tucking her babies into bed, Early laid alone on a cot in a jail cell. She did not know where her children or husband were, or whether something really happened to them. As the minutes turned into hours and hours into days, Early reminisced about her life and family. Evenings and nights were especially hard, because Early only had her memories to comfort her.
Sometimes she’d think back to when she first met Alex and relive those precious moments. In college, she majored in music therapy, which meant her days were filled with dance and song. Aside from the psychology classes, modern dance was her favorite. She practiced her turns on the empty dance floor for hours, twirling in place or gliding across the room. The soft music was soothing and gave her a feeling of warmth and serenity.
One afternoon, as she came out of a perfect turn, a shadow appeared by the double French doors. With her arms still above her head, she tilted back and saw a handsome young man. Her body was lean and slender, and she always allowed her hair to flow freely down her back with long wavy curls.
“Hello,” Alex spoke from the door.
At first Early wasn’t sure what to do. It was as if time had suddenly stopped and she was frozen between breaths.
“I’m Alex. I didn’t mean to frighten you, please keep dancing.” Alex walked toward her as she relaxed her arms and righted herself. “I’ve watched you before, I hope you don’t mind. I mean, dancers are for watching. Correct?”
“I guess so.” Early was not sure how to accept his advances.
“Well, please… by all means… then dance,” he urged.
With nothing else to do, Early swayed to the flowing tune of the music as Alex watched. It was an erotic sensation knowing he followed her every move as she glided across the smooth wooden floor. Early danced since the age of three. Her toeshoes were worn and tattered, but she loved them and refused to throw them away.
From that day on, Alex watched Early glide across the room every other afternoon. Her heart grew for this handsome young man who never asked for anything other than the simple pleasure of watching her dance.
It was during her senior year he finally asked her out. That was when Early learned he was a medical student. They dated throughout his senior year, and the summer after his graduation he proposed. It all happened so fast. She was dancing and practicing for her thesis and he proposed in the middle of the dance floor. It meant so much to know he understood music was everything to her. So much so, he used her platform to ask for her hand in marriage.
The remainder of the night moved slowly. Early’s pillow was soaked from the tears that continuously ran down her face. She wondered if she would ever see her love aga
in. He had been her whole life, her mate, her lover. But today and tomorrow and for many more dreaded hours she would be alone.
Chapter 55
LOOMSBURY RAN OVER the results of the blood samples scattered across his hotel desk. It was impossible what he was seeing, but they ran the tests several times. Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid was detected in each woman’s blood sample. So much that traces remained to this very day.
He stood back and stared at the results. His mind raced faster than his thoughts could keep up. Rubbing his eyes, Loomsbury stretched and glanced over at the clock on the bed side table. It was four in the morning and he still wasn’t tired. Perhaps if he ordered another test just to be sure. But no, he’d already done that several times and each time the results were the same.
The outcome of the tests explained why the women retained no memory of the killings or for several months after. But how did so much of the drug get into their systems without killing them? The remaining amount was not high enough to continue the memory loss, but it was enough to be detected by The Agency’s sophisticated equipment.
At the levels the women were given, nothing they experienced would pass into their long term memory. Although they functioned and seemed normal to any person who observed them, everything they saw, spoke or experienced would be as if it never happened. But why and for what purpose?
Loomsbury was only twenty-five. As a boy genius, he received three PhDs by the age of fifteen. When The Agency recruited him at sixteen, he was given his own laboratory to do whatever was asked of him. But for the first time in many years, Loomsbury was stumped. Each woman had the same exact amount of Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid in their system, which only meant they were still receiving the drug—somehow. But that was impossible—or was it? Suddenly it hit him. It hit him harder than anything ever before.
“An implant!” he cried.
An implant would explain everything. It would explain the heavy enough dose to cause the memory loss, and the lesser amount showing up in his results. Loomsbury called Lewis to explain his theory. It was important each woman undergo an MRI or X-ray as soon as possible to determine if any foreign bodies were hidden beneath their skin. It would be the only way such a large amount of the drug could continuously be administered without detection.
When he hung up the phone, he felt tired and decided he earned his time for sleep. It felt great he figured it all out. He wouldn’t need to see the MRI results, Loomsbury already knew the answer. He was sure that the women had been implanted with an Automatic Medical Drug Administrator device, better known as an AMDA. The device was used to administer drugs to people with diabetes or other life-threatening illnesses which required constant medication. It was the only logical explanation and he knew he was right, for if given the assignment on how to do it, that would be the course he would take.
It wouldn’t be hard to implant the devices. If they were inserted just above the uterus there would be no scar, no outside appearance anything was done. No one would know and the secret would go to their graves with them. Unless someone knew exactly where to look, they would go undetected even during a sonogram or pregnancy.
Loomsbury flipped off the lights and pulled the blankets over his shoulder. He was now tired and could easily fall asleep. Trying to clear his mind, Loomsbury thought of the women and how they must have felt waking up in a courtroom with no memory or idea how or why they were there.
“Amazing,” he said to no one. “Brilliant … but amazing.”
Chapter 56
AS THE SUN rose over the mountain range, Carrie and Lacey hiked higher up the trail that wound precariously through the pine and maple trees. At times the path was so rugged Lacey had a difficult time keeping up.
“Need a break?” Carrie asked stopping a few feet ahead of Lacey.
“No. Just keep going.”
It took two hours to reach the summit, and when they stopped to admire the view they were both in complete awe. The horizon was nothing aside from amazing. From this vantage point, the girls could see for miles in every direction. Ridge upon ridge of heavily forested mountains, tumbling rivers and flower-dotted meadows were visible as far as they could see. Off in the distance the snowy top of Mount Rainier was a soul-inspiring sight.
“Oh my!” Lacey exclaimed. “This is beautiful.”
Carrie pulled out her digital camera and started clicking. “Here,” Carrie said handing the camera to Lacey. “We need a few pictures of each other so we’re more credible as hikers.”
They rested under a tall hemlock tree to relax and eat their lunch. Aroma from the various foliage was a wonderful sensation. It was cool and faint sounds from the rustling of small animals echoed through the mountain. The only other sound was from the wind as it filtered through the trees.
“I could live here,” Lacey surmised. “This place is like a nature’s wonderland… a postcard… wish you were here.”
Carrie laughed. “Hey, we’re deep in the woods. You think we’ll run into Bigfoot?”
“Ha ha, very funny.” Lacey joked back.
Carrie pulled out her GPS and double checked the map. “We’re right on target.”
“How do you know where to go?”
“Lewis gave me the coordinates he wants us to check out. That’s all we can do for now. If we find something, great, if not, we’ll just have to wait and see what he tells us to do next.”
They gathered their packs and headed toward the side of another large mountain range. The peaks and valleys seemed to continue forever. They soon found a clearing and decided to pitch their tent and call it a night. Lacey gathered what dried wood she could find for a fire as Carrie went shopping for dinner.
Slightly before dark, Carrie returned with the remains of a rabbit attached to a small branch. As the meat roasted over the open flames, Lacey prepared a salad from eatable foliage, which was mostly herbs and mushrooms. Carrie even ran across a small patch of wild potatoes. Their meal was delicious and they ate until they couldn’t eat any more.
“How do you know how to do all this stuff?” Lacey asked as they nibbled on the freshly cooked wild apples Carrie found right after lunch.
“It’s not hard. Devon Arvol, my boyfriend, is half Native American. He was taught how to live off the land. He was raised on the reservation by his mother and grandparents. His dad was a white-man who never came to see him much. We used to go camping a lot… traveled to different national parks and all.” Carrie lowered her head wishing she were camping with Devon right now. “Anyway, he’s the one who taught me less is better. The less you carry in the less you carry out. I didn’t believe him at first, but I learned how to tell the difference between eatable and poisonous plants and where to find them. He also taught me how to catch small animals like rabbits and to fish without a fishing pole. Comes in handy at times.”
“Oh? So that’s why we’re carrying staples instead of prepackaged food?” Lacey asked.
“Yep, I can do a lot with just a little sugar and flour and salt. We’ll have fresh berries and biscuits in the morning, and of course, coffee.”
The girls laughed as they turned in for the night. They were past exhausted and just wanted to crash. Once the fire died down, they rolled over and fell peacefully asleep listening to the natural sounds of the wild.
Chapter 57
LEWIS READ THE report twice while glancing at Greghardt only once. He knew he could trust Loomsbury’s conclusions completely, and was amazed and shocked at what he was reading. Instead of giving answers, the report only filled his head with more questions.
Strickland waited patiently from the couch sipping on her Scotch and water for her turn to read the report. Not knowing was always the worst. As Lewis read to himself, she watched as Dr. Greghardt puffed a few times on his cigar while tapping his fingers on the coffee table.
“My grandfather used to smoke a pipe,” Strickland interjected between sips. At last her nerves seemed to be calming and her hands finally stopped sweating. “I love the smell of good pi
pe tobacco.”
“Cuban.” Greghardt winked at her.
Lewis handed the report to Greghardt who passed it to Strickland.
“Already seen it,” he said as she looked at him with surprise.
“Well I haven’t,” Strickland said taking the paper. As she read the report the expression on her face turned from calm to alarm. “This can’t be. This drug was banned years ago. If I remember correctly, the last of it was destroyed under the strict supervision of The Agency.”
“Well, apparently not,” Greghardt replied taking another puff.
“Or, it was re-created,” Lewis suggested.
“Impossible,” Strickland said.
“Why?” Lewis asked.
“Because,” Strickland answered as she rubbed her now sweating hands against her pants. “It takes took too long to make it.”
“How would you know?” Lewis asked.
“I worked for the FDA prior to becoming vice president…remember?”
Greghardt smiled at her and added, “That’s right, Jeff, she was one of the leading scientists if my memory serves me right.”
Lewis nodded while giving Strickland a stunned glance.
“I’m not trying to be a smart-ass or anything, but that drug takes years to make. That is if you don’t want to kill someone. It’s not something you wake up one day and say ‘Hey I think I’ll make some Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid today.’ It just doesn’t work that way, and for that matter, if someone knew they would need it this year, they would have had to start on it at least four or five years ago. It simply doesn’t make any sense.”
“And your point?” Lewis asked.
Greghardt let out another breath of heavy tobacco smoke and shook his head. “What she is trying to tell you is the drug must not have been destroyed. That isn’t hard to believe is it? If I’m not mistaken, I think we have some of it in Loomsbury’s secret stash…his outdated, outlawed and banned substances.”