Moriah's Landing Bundle

by Amanda Stevens

  Manning led him into yet another stark white, sterile room, walked to a table and pulled off a drape partially covering what looked like cages.

  Jonah let out a gasp before he could catch himself.

  “I told you I wouldn’t disappoint you,” Manning said with a satisfied smirk.

  In the cages along the wall were hundreds of rats and mice, but nearer, in a large cage, was a creature so shriveled and aged that Jonah didn’t recognize it at first. “This chimpanzee has lived longer than any chimp in the history of the world, thanks to my research,” Manning said, walking over to inspect the ancient primate. “Do you realize what it could mean to discover the fountain of youth?”

  “Overpopulation,” Jonah quipped. He could hear some animals in the next room banging around in cages. Wasn’t that the fear of every Ries in his family, to end up in some laboratory cage being poked and probed and analyzed to death?

  Suddenly, he just wanted out of here. But as he turned, he saw something in the adjacent room that horrified him, stopping him dead. A stack of small, child-size coffins lined one wall from floor to ceiling.

  “Not all the chimps and monkeys enjoyed such long lives,” Manning said, coming up behind him.

  Jonah had seen enough. He’d managed to grab hold of the stainless-steel counter and plant the bug. He was ready to get out of there.

  But Manning wasn’t through with him yet. He opened another door and went to a massive computer console, pulling up an extra chair before sitting down. He motioned to the chair, but Jonah chose to stand. “I have something I want you to see.”

  With a couple of clicks at the keys, Manning brought up Jonah’s family tree, then glanced over at him. “I don’t think you realize how rare lines like yours are,” Manning said fervently. “Your great-great-great-grandmother lived to be almost one hundred and ten. That was unheard of in her day. Your genes could change the world.”

  Jonah moved away from the computer and Manning. “I don’t want to change the world.”

  “Don’t you? Isn’t that really why you went into the FBI? Aren’t you an idealist, Mr. Ries? A man who thinks he can singlehandedly make a difference? Imagine the difference I could make with just a small amount of your DNA?”

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Doc,” Jonah said. “Even if I was the man you thought I was, there is nothing I’d like more than to see the Ries genes die off. And if I have anything to do with it, they will.”

  Manning looked thunderstruck. “You wouldn’t continue the line?”

  “The line is flawed, Doc. My parents are proof of that.” He looked at his watch. It was after eleven and he was anxious to get to Kat. “Unless you have some jars with heads in them, I really need to get going.”

  Manning looked more than disappointed. He looked desperate. He clicked off the computer and got up slowly from the chair. “I had hoped you were a progressive thinker.”

  “I just want to get through this life as best I can,” Jonah said truthfully.

  Manning stared at him for a moment, a wild, disturbed look in his already scarier-than-hell gaze. Jonah realized he might have made a fatal mistake coming here.

  But after a moment, the scientist walked him out to the fence that surrounded the lab, unlocked the gate and let him out. “If you change your mind…”

  Jonah nodded, but it was clear from Manning’s dour expression that he knew Jonah wasn’t going to. But Jonah wondered if that would stop the doctor.

  As he drove his bike back into town, he saw a woman cross Main Street and disappear into the cemetery. A feeling of déjà vu hit him. He slowed the motorcycle. The last thing he wanted to do was go into the cemetery, especially with the moon rising and almost full.

  But he turned in, driving slowly, looking for Claire Cavendish. He got off his bike and wandered among the graves on foot.

  He found her not far from McFarland Leary’s grave, her body rigid with fear and trembling like the leaves in the oak overhead in the breeze.

  “Claire,” he said quietly.

  She spun around, her eyes wide with terror.

  “I’m Jonah Ries—”

  “I know who you are,” she said, her voice breaking. “I heard about you.”

  He didn’t want to know what she’d heard. “Come on. You aren’t ready for this, trust me.”

  She glanced back toward where Leary lay, then at Jonah. She nodded and let him lead her out of the cemetery, through a gap in the fence beside a huge old oak, the closest exit he knew of to her house. He offered her a ride home, but she turned it down, taking off the moment they hit the street. He thought about following her, but changed his mind. He’d followed enough young women home lately.

  He started back toward where he’d left his bike and immediately heard the footfalls behind him. Two sets of soft-soled shoes. He waited for their attack, afraid he’d scare them off if he counterattacked too soon. He wanted to know who they were. But more important, he wanted to know who had sent them after him.

  He didn’t have to wait long. They came at him from behind, the heavier one charging him, the footfalls more pronounced than the smaller ones.

  They bungled the attack badly, even if he hadn’t been trained for just such an occasion. He had them both on the ground without even breaking a sweat.

  “What do you want?” he demanded, his knee in the larger one’s back, his hand around the other one’s neck as he held them both down.

  “Nothing,” the littler one cried.

  He recognized them as two punks he’d seen hanging around the arcade. “You don’t jump someone for nothing,” he said, putting pressure on both.

  The larger one—Jonah thought his name was Razz—let out a squeal. “It was only a joke, man. We were just kidding around.”

  “Bull,” Jonah snapped.

  “No, really. We were just supposed to scare you,” the other one—Dodie or something like that—said.

  “Shut up, Dumbster,” Razz mumbled.

  “Who hired you to scare me?” Jonah demanded, pressing his knee into Razz’s back.

  “I don’t know, man, really. We got a note saying to do it and we’d get some cash. I swear.”

  “It’s true,” Dodie cried.

  Jonah applied a little more pressure, but the two stuck to their story, adding one small detail. They’d been paid to knock him out and take some of his blood.

  He swore, imagining these two trying to take blood. They were to be contacted later to make the deal for the specimen. They swore they didn’t know who was doing the buying.

  He finally let them up, figuring Manning had to be behind the plan, although it seemed pretty amateurish for the doctor. The two scrambled off like hyenas.

  When he reached Kat’s, no one was home, the house locked up and silent. Anxious and worried, he tried her office on his cell phone. No answer. Damn. Where could she be? Maybe she’d gone to his apartment looking for him. His instincts told him she was in danger, but then he already knew that.

  At his apartment, Jonah saw at once that someone had been there. When he opened the door, though, he didn’t find Kat inside. Brody was waiting for him. “Come on, you wanted in on this. I assume you have a gun?”

  Jonah nodded, wondering what he had gotten in on, disappointed Kat wasn’t here and all the more worried. “Where are we going?” He needed to find Kat.

  “To meet a boat,” Brody said, watching him closely. “The Audrey Lynn.”

  Jonah pulled his .38 and shoulder holster from under the towels on the shelf, fighting two conflicting battles inside him: the need to find Kat and assure himself that she was all right. And the need to find out what was aboard the Audrey Lynn and solve this case before the full moon. His instincts told him that the cargo onboard that boat was connected to whomever was after Kat. But Brody offering him the chance to board the boat seemed almost too good to be true.

  “Am I really going to need this?” he asked Brody as he checked the .38 to make sure it was fully loaded. It was.

&
nbsp; “You never know,” Brody said.

  He didn’t like the way his cousin said it. This wasn’t like Brody to cut him in on anything. Every instinct in him told him he was walking into a trap.

  Chapter Fourteen

  At the wharf, Jonah followed Brody along the docks to a slip with a new thirty-five-foot fishing boat, complete with cuddy belowdecks and two two-hundred-and-seventy-five-horse motors on the back. The name on the side read Wharf Rat II.

  “Nice,” Jonah said, stopping to eye the boat.

  “Come on, we have to hurry,” Brody said, seeming nervous. But then, he always seemed nervous, now that Jonah thought about it.

  “Maybe you’d better tell me what’s on this boat we’re supposed to meet,” Jonah said.

  Brody turned to look back at him, squinting under the dull glow of the wharf lights. “You don’t know?”

  He realized his mistake. If he was on the up-and-up, he wouldn’t be asking around about the Audrey Lynn unless he knew exactly what was on that boat.

  “Hey, you got me carrying,” he said, patting his .38. “You’re acting nervous as hell and you’re wondering why I’m questioning what to expect when we get out there?”

  “Don’t worry about it, I’m just a little jumpy because we’re running late since you were off doing who knows what,” Brody said. “Now untie the damn boat and let’s quit discussing this on the dock, all right?”

  Jonah went to untie the bow. That was close. He knew his mind was on Kat. But if he hoped to get through this night, he’d better start paying attention to his job.

  He boarded the boat and Brody started up the motors. Once out of the no-wake zone, Brody opened them up. It was a hell of a nice boat and it moved. There was something reassuring about that as the craft roared out past Lighthouse Island on the endless flat sea. The moon rode with them, a reminder that by this time tomorrow night, it would be full. Tonight, it painted the Atlantic pale silver, and had he not been a Ries, he might have thought it beautiful.

  “Take the wheel for a moment,” Brody ordered.

  Jonah reached for the wheel. But the moment he touched it, Brody hit him in the arm. His body jerked, the pain like a giant bee sting. He’d looked down to see the syringe sticking out of his shirt, the needle buried in his flesh. Before he could reach for it, he’d dropped to the floor.

  “I told you to stay away from Kat Ridgemont,” he heard Brody say from some distance away, and yet he could feel Brody’s large pudgy fingers pulling at his arms, dragging him across the deck. Then he was falling. For an instant, he thought Brody had dumped him over the side of the boat into the ocean. In his condition, Jonah knew he’d drown. His limbs felt paralyzed, his mind dazed.

  But instead, he fell down a short flight of stairs. The last thing he remembered was Brody saying, “You’re damn lucky my orders weren’t to throw you overboard.” Then a door slammed shut, the clear click of a lock snapping into place, followed by total darkness.

  JONAH DIDN’T KNOW how long he’d been out. He woke in a small cramped space, nauseous, head aching and hurting, caught up in a dream in which he kept hearing Kat calling to him. The spot on his arm hurt like hell where Brody had injected him with who knew what. It ached down to the bone. Whatever drug Brody had given him had left him weak and queasy.

  By sheer determination alone, he managed to struggle to his feet, making as little noise as possible. He could feel the boat still moving fast. Did that mean they hadn’t reached the Audrey Lynn yet? Or were they already on the way back?

  He felt for his weapon. Gone. No big surprise there. He tried pushing against what felt like the door with his body, then smacking it hard with his shoulder. But the space was too small to get enough leverage, and Brody must have moved something in front of the door because it didn’t even budge. So Jonah waited, wondering what was planned for him, knowing whatever it was, it wouldn’t be Brody’s call.

  He must have dozed off again from the drug. When he woke, the boat was slowing down. He could hear the whine of the outboards. He listened, wondering where they were.

  Then the engines died. The boat wallowed in its own wake for a few minutes. He couldn’t hear any music from the bars along the wharf. Nor the sound of any other boats. As far as Jonah could tell, they were still out at sea.

  The boat banged into something solid. A dock? Or another boat? Then he heard Brody’s voice calling out to someone.

  Jonah only caught some of the conversation. It appeared Brody might be haggling over something, probably price. He heard a thunk overhead as if someone had jumped aboard. Then the boat pitched and yawed as something was being loaded aboard. “Be careful with those!” he heard Brody call out.

  From what Jonah could tell, the crew loaded five boxes, wooden, from the sound of it, and heavy enough to make scraping noises when set down.

  He tried the door again, putting more shoulder into it, hoping the sound on the deck would cover his attempts to break out of his confinement.

  “Shh. Give me a minute,” he heard from the other side of the door. His heart caught in his throat as he recognized Kat’s voice. “Thank God you’re finally awake. I was worried that he’d killed you.”

  He heard a scraping sound against the door as something heavy was being pushed aside. The door opened, the sudden light blinding him.

  Before he could ask Kat what the hell she was doing here, gunfire filled the air over their heads. Three shots, followed by another three in quick succession.

  He grabbed for Kat, pulling her down as he scanned the lower deck, looking for something to use as a weapon. His gaze settled on her. “You don’t happen to have that little Beretta…?”

  She pulled it out of her purse and handed it to him.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here but I am damn glad to see you.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  “Stay here. Hidden. Don’t come out unless I tell you to.” He listened for a moment, hearing nothing, and then he moved cautiously up the steps toward the deck. The moon shone down like a spotlight. He could hear the water lapping at the side of the boat and feel the fishing boat bumping against what he figured was the larger boat, the Audrey Lynn.

  As he peered out into the moonlight, he could see the larger vessel, a rope ladder hanging down. Brody’s body lay sprawled on the deck in a pool of blood. He winced, not surprised at the way his cousin’s life had ended, but still sorry to see it.

  Just past Brody were five boxes, the size big-screen televisions came in, only these were made of wood. It was too dark to see what had been printed on the sides.

  He waited for a few minutes before he bounded up the steps to crouch behind the boxes. He’d expected to hear gunfire, expected someone to take a potshot at him.

  But all he could hear was the water and the boats as they thumped restlessly together where Brody had tied them up.

  Still being cautious, he edged toward the rope ladder, knowing he would have to climb up into the larger vessel to see if all the merchandise had been unloaded onto the fishing boat. Also if anyone was still alive aboard the Audrey Lynn.

  He waited, the Beretta feeling small and insignificant in his hand, then he moved quickly. First to Brody’s body, where he scooped up Brody’s weapon, and then up the ladder. He figured Brody hadn’t fired an entire clip. At least he hoped not.

  But when he bounded onto the deck of the Audrey Lynn, he realized he wasn’t going to need any firepower. Three bodies lay in moonlit pools of blood. He checked, all dead. It didn’t take but a moment to realize the skeleton crew had stayed onboard to deliver this shipment while the others must have gone ashore.

  Hurriedly, Jonah checked to make sure all the boxes had been unloaded before the shootout. He could find no others that resembled the ones on the deck of the Wharf Rat II.

  So what had Brody done? Shot everyone after the boxes were loaded as a double-cross? Was this the last shipment he ever planned to get? Otherwise, it seemed like a dumb move, burning his bridges lik
e that.

  Jonah looked around to make sure there was no one else onboard the Audrey Lynn, then, climbing back down to the Wharf Rat II again, he untied, moved to the wheelhouse and started up the outboards, quickly pulling away from the larger vessel.

  “Kat,” he called as soon as he was a safe distance from the Audrey Lynn.

  She scrambled topside and into his arms. “Oh, God,” she breathed against his neck as she spotted Brody. “Is he—?”

  “Yeah. Want to tell me what you’re doing on this boat?”

  “I came to your apartment to tell you something I’d discovered, and found a note on your door from Tommy Cavendish to meet you at the Wharf Rat II on the docks. I’d just found out earlier that Tommy bought the only bottle of perfume like the one my mother used to wear from the drugstore in town. Someone had special ordered it, but never picked it up, no doubt knowing they would put it on the shelf. I wanted to warn you about Tommy, so I stowed away on the boat.”

  He looked at her, fearing she thought that made perfect sense. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

  “That was what I was trying to avoid,” she snapped.

  He held her to him, breathing in the scent of her as the boat sped north, just glad to have her in his arms, to have her safe. They had less than twenty-four hours before the full moon. They had the cargo from the Audrey Lynn. But they also had Brody’s dead body sprawled on the deck. They couldn’t take the boat back to Moriah’s Landing, that was for sure.

  A few miles up the coast, far enough away from the Audrey Lynn to feel a little safe, Jonah stopped the boat, found a crowbar in Brody’s tools and began to pry open one of the boxes on deck to see exactly what he was dealing with. What was it that had gotten the other agent killed?

  Kat held the flashlight as the lid on the top box creaked open a crack. He pried harder. The lid gave. The beam of the flashlight filled the dark hole.