by Rebecca York
“Why?”
Again she hesitated.
“I can’t help you unless you trust me.” He fixed her with a hard look. “And don’t you think you have some kind of moral obligation to me and the others? Frank Decorah could have shipped all of Hamilton’s patients to long-term care facilities. But he took over the obligation. And Lily stayed on to run the new facility. After Hamilton was arrested, they provided you with an environment where you could live.”
“I wasn’t thinking about it that way.”
“Well, think about it now.”
In a barely audible voice, she said, “I left because bad men are looking for me.”
“Why?”
“Because they kidnapped me, and I escaped. I mean it was a close thing. I was lucky they’d let me out for some exercise, and I could hit my guard with a flower pot and steal the keys to a car.”
“Kidnapped!”
“Yes”
“Then your family’s looking for you? Did they call the police?”
She sighed. “My parents are both dead.”
“What happened?”
“An auto accident,” she said in a flat voice.
“Like you.”
“Uh huh.”
Was she telling the truth? He couldn’t help wondering about that.
“Okay. So who kidnapped you?”
She closed her eyes, then opened them again. “You were right. I came from a very privileged background. I grew up on a big estate and went to an exclusive girls’ school. My parents left me a big house and a lot of money. After they died, I went to college and got a degree. Then I got a teaching job. I met a man. The father of one of my students. It turned out he wasn’t as nice as he pretended.”
“In what way?”
“He wanted a relationship.” She swallowed hard. “When I said, ‘no,’ he took me to his house and wouldn’t let me leave.”
oOo
Mack had spoken to his brother from the parking lot of a chain motel a few miles south of the Decorah facility on Route 1.
He hit the auto dial button on his cell phone and called Lily. She answered in a breathy voice.
“Mack, did you find her?”
“Grant did.”
“Thank God,” she said, echoing his reaction when he’d gotten the news from Grant. “Is everything okay?”
“I guess she didn’t shoot him with the gun she stole.”
Lily winced. “And he’s bringing her back here?”
“I think so.”
“She never should have left. She needs me to check her over.”
“He’s talking to her now, trying to find out why she ran.”
“So you don’t know anything—except that she’s safe?”
“Yeah. He couldn’t really talk. I’m on my way back. Do you want me to get anything from the grocery store?” he added.
It was a mundane request, but now that the emergency was over, life would go on as usual. Well, not quit usual. Lily was still worried about Corker and worried about Jenny’s medical condition.
She thought for a moment. “It’s been a heck of a day. Unless you want scrambled eggs for dinner, maybe we should just stop for takeout on the way home.”
“Good idea. Pizza okay?” he asked, figuring he was due a reward for the night’s activities.
“Sure. After I check Jenny over,” she answered.
He grinned, glad that Dr. Wardman wasn’t insisting on a healthy dinner.
He was still a couple of miles from the industrial park where the Decorah medical facility was located. He kept driving down the highway, reached the entrance to the park and turned in. The road leading into the complex was dark because most of the buildings were only in use during business hours, unlike Decorah which had to operate twenty-four seven.
His mind was on what kind of pizza to suggest for dinner when he snapped back to the scene around him. Several hundred yards down the road, at the entrance to the Decorah building, he saw something he wasn’t expecting.
A dark-colored SUV had pulled up near the door. As he watched, three men got out. He didn’t know how an ordinary citizen would react, but in the split second when he first spotted the group, he could see that they were carrying assault rifles.
He had been driving slowly on the narrow lane. Hitting the brake, he quickly pulled in to a parking space in front of another building and cut his lights. Drawing the automatic pistol from the holster under his jacket, he got out of the car and walked to a storefront called DSR. He stepped into the entryway, waiting with his heart thumping for the men to come down the sidewalk toward him. After half a minute, he breathed out a small sigh. Apparently he’d convinced the guys with the rifles that he hadn’t seen the guns and that his business was elsewhere.
Christ, now what? He had a couple of options. It was probably too late to call Lily on the phone. Maybe his best bet was to call the main Decorah Security number.
oOo
Was Jenny telling the truth? It was a pretty unusual story, but it could be true. Or mostly true?
“What kind of man would do that?” Grant pressed.
“I guess you’d call him a gangster.”
“The parent of one of your students?”
“Gangsters have children, too.”
He watched Jenny swallow hard as her gaze turned inward. “Don’t make me talk about it now. He had guards watching me. But I slipped away and got the keys to a car. I was trying to outrun them. I took a turn too fast—and you know the rest. Well, most of it. I guess Dr. Hamilton was on the lookout for subjects for his experiment, and he heard about a woman in the hospital with no name and no insurance. I guess he was thrilled to get me.”
Grant was trying to digest all that when she said, “The safest thing for everyone at Decorah Security is for me to disappear.”
“That’s our call, not yours.”
When she started to protest, he hurried on. “We need to go back and sort this out. And I’m sure Lily is going to want to give you an exam—and maybe put you back in bed. You had no business taking off like that.”
“I thought that was best for everyone.”
“No.” He kept his gaze steady. “Did you think it was best for me? For us?”
She appeared to be fighting tears again. “I put you in danger.”
“I’m trained to handle danger. So are the other Decorah agents.”
She looked like she wanted to argue with him. Instead she switched the subject and murmured, “I’m going to feel awful when I see Lily. I mean, I stole from her.”
“We’ll sort it out,” he repeated. Or would they? He couldn’t help thinking that she still wasn’t telling him everything. What did she still need to hide?
To his horror, he blurted the thing that was at the top of his mind. “Did the guy rape you?”
The suddenly sick expression on her face made him think he was right. And maybe that was the element he’d been missing. An experience like that could make a woman act in ways that weren’t normal for her. It could also make her wary of intimacy. She’d taken a long time to get physical with him. That could be the reason. And it might be a good reason not to press her now. He’d come looking for her weighed down by a bundle of assumptions. Maybe he had to rethink everything he thought he knew.
oOo
Mack put the gun away and pulled out his phone, ready to call in more Decorah agents. Before he could dial, one of the men he’d seen stepped into his line of sight.
“Drop the phone. Hands in the air.”
Shit. He’d thought he’d fooled them by ducking into the DSR doorway. Apparently they weren’t taking any chances.
“Drop the phone. Hands in the air,” the guy repeated, “If you don’t want a nice neat hole in the middle of your forehead.”
Would the guy do it? Mack knew that the industrial park was almost deserted at this hour. But the guy might not know that, and he might not want to advertise his presence with a shot. Still, Mack wasn’t going to bet his life on half-asse
d logic.
He dropped the phone, hearing it clunk on the cement surface.
“Kick it over here.”
When he did, the guy crushed it under his heel. He was a tough-looking character with buzz-cut hair, a knife scar slashing across his chin, and steely blue eyes. He looked like a mobster.
Mack had told Grant that Jenny must have had legitimate motives for running. This thug looked like an excellent reason.
Too bad he and Grant hadn’t exchanged a little more information the last time they’d talked. He’d thought they’d have time later.
“Don’t shoot,” he said in a quavering voice as he hunched his shoulders, still trying to give the impression that he was an unfortunate bystander.
“Who are you calling?”
“The management. I need to get to my office, and they locked the building.”
“What do you do?”
Christ, he had no idea what they did at this company, and the initials were no clue. For all he knew, they could be breeding earthworms and shipping them to biology classes, but he said, “IT.”
“Okay, you’re coming with me.”
“Where?”
“Shut up if you don’t want to get your head blown off.”
Mack clamped his lips together. Turning, he walked ahead of the gunman back toward the Decorah patient facility.
“Open the door and walk down the hall.”
He did, skirting the security desk and ending up in the room with the comatose patients. The other two gunmen were there, holding Terry Montrose, the orderly, and Lily at gunpoint.
A spurt of hope flashed across her face when she spotted Mack. Then she saw that his hands were raised, and the third gunman was in back of him.
When she started to speak, he gave a small shake of his head, and she closed her mouth.
The guy who had brought him in frisked him—and found the weapon in his shoulder holster.
“What have we here, Mr. IT guy?” he said in a sarcastic voice.
“I have it for protection.”
“A lot of good it did you,” the thug sneered.
Mack swung his gaze to the other two men. They were similar types, well-built men who looked like they could handle themselves in a fight. One of them was bald. The other had an Asian cast to his eyes and jet-black hair pulled back in a short queue.
“Over there,” Buzz Cut said. It looked like he was the one in charge.
Mack gave the captors a fearful look and walked toward Lily and Terry.
“I don’t know these people,” he said. “This isn’t fair. Why am I here?”
“Fair, yeah right,” the head thug said with a sneer in his voice. “You were at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“We don’t have any street drugs here,” Lily said.
“We’re not after drugs.”
“Then what do you want?”
Chapter Nine
“Jenny Seaver,” the guy said.
“Who?” Lily asked.
“Don’t play dumb with me.” Buzz Cut looked at the other two guys. “See which bed she’s in.”
Buzz Cut kept them covered while his companions began walking through the rows of beds, looking at the patients.
After long moments, the two henchmen returned to their boss. “She ain’t in one of the beds I checked,” the Asian guy said.
“Me neither,” baldy echoed.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Buzz turned to the captives, “Who’s in charge?”
“I am,” Lily answered.
“Where is she?”
“Who?”
“I told you. Jenny Seaver.”
“We’ve never had anyone here with that name.”
“You’re lying.”
Terry spoke up in a voice he couldn’t quite hold steady. “We had a Jenny Seville.”
“Okay maybe she changed her name. Describe her.”
“She’s in her early or mid-twenties, I think. She had blue eyes, short caramel-colored hair.”
“Yeah, that’s her. Where is she?”
“She left—against medical advice,” Lily answered.
Mack had been waiting for the right moment to contact his brother. The exchange about Jenny seemed like his best bet. While the conversation was going on, he turned slightly away, desperately sending his thoughts out to Grant.
What? Grant asked, sounding impatient when he heard the voice invade his mind.
We have a big problem. When I pulled into the parking lot at the Decorah Facility, I saw guys with assault rifles go in there. I pretended I was heading for the DSR unit, but one of them came after me and brought me back.
Christ.
Call Decorah. I can’t keep talking now. They’re going to think I’m doing something weird.
Get back to me when you can.
oOo
Grant looked up to see Jenny’s eyes riveted to his face. “Something bad happened.”
“The medical facility is under attack.”
“By whom?”
“Men with assault rifles.”
“Looking for me, I’m sure. I told you something like that could happen. I was right.”
“I’m not going to waste time arguing with you now.”
Pulling out his phone, he called the Decorah main number. The canned voice from the phone company said that the circuits were busy.
He tried again and got the same response.
Christ, was this a systematic attack where the bad guys had wiped out the agency?
“Now what?” Jenny asked when she saw the frustration on his face.
“I can’t get hold of Decorah,” he answered, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.
“Why not?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
He was heading toward the door when he stopped short, caught in a dilemma.
Once again, Jenny reacted to his look. “What?”
He answered with a curse, then elaborated. “I don’t want to drag you into danger, but I can’t leave you here because I think you’ll disappear again, and this time I’m afraid I won’t find you.”
She didn’t contradict him.
“Running away now isn’t the answer.”
“Why not?” she asked in a defiant voice
“Because the bad thing you were afraid of has already happened.”
She winced.
“Come on. We’re wasting time.”
“And what are we going to do when we get there?”
“I don’t know.”
Grim-faced, he marched her out of the room and toward the car. Silently he cursed the situation—and his lack of preparation. He always contacted the office through the main line. And if not, he could always get Mack on their private mental connection. That was why he didn’t have cell phone numbers for any of the other guys.
“Shit.”
He appreciated that she didn’t interrupt while he tried to think himself out of the quicksand.
She’d asked what he was going to do when he got to the patient facility. He couldn’t exactly drag Jenny in there, not where she was the one the bad guys were obviously looking for.
Back in the car, he held up his cell phone. “You’re going to have to alert someone from Decorah.”
“Who?”
“The first guy you can reach.” He found the information number in the system and thought for a moment. Frank was only available through the office number. “Maybe the most efficient thing is to start with the Marshalls.”
“Marshals?” she asked. “Like in the Old West?”
“No. A bunch of the guys who work for Decorah are cousins and have the same last name. Start with Cole Marshall. If you can’t get him, try Brand Marshall. Or Rafe Marshall.” He didn’t explain that the Marshall cousins were all werewolves. That would be too much information at the wrong time.
As he drove toward Beltsville, he heard her talking to the information operator. Or maybe she was talking to a robot.
&nb
sp; Just as they reached the turn into the industrial park, she said, “Okay, got it—301-555-2130.”
“Who is it?”
“Brand.”
He waited with his pulse pounding in his ears while the phone rang. Then he heard the werewolf answer, “Grant?”
“Just a minute.” Jenny handed him the phone.
“Problem?” his friend asked.
“Yeah. I can’t get through to the main Decorah number, and there’s a situation.”
Quickly he explained that the patient facility was under attack—from three gunmen, most likely looking for Jenny.
“I’ll get a counterforce together as quickly as possible,” the other agent promised, then paused. “Don’t go in ‘til we get there.”
“I . . .”
“There’s no point in your getting captured, too—or killed.”
He wanted to pound the wheel in frustration because he knew that Brand was right. With his lips set in a grim line, he pulled over to the side of the access road, several yards from the Decorah building.
He felt Jenny’s eyes on him.
“Like I kept saying in the first place, this is my fault,” she whispered.
“No. It’s the fault of the guy who kidnapped you. Your only sin was getting away from them.”
She didn’t answer, and they sat in tense silence waiting for reinforcements to appear.
Jesus, no!
The mental shout of agony came from Mack.
Chapter Ten
Stay cool, Grant silently ordered.
“What happened?” Jenny gasped as she read the sick look on his face.
“One of the guys just hit Lily. I’m afraid Mack is gonna do something stupid—like get himself killed.”
Do what it takes to stay alive, he mentally shouted. He wanted to stay in contact, but he knew he couldn’t affect the scene in the lab from here. Instead he focused on the woman beside him, torn in two directions. He couldn’t lose Mack. And he couldn’t lose Jenny. But could he trust her?
“I have to go in there. Give me your word that you won’t run.”
He saw her internal struggle reflected on her face. Finally she gave him the right answer. “Okay. I won’t run,” she said in a flat voice.
“Get in the backseat. Down on the floor where no one can see you.”
