They stepped into the moonlight. Alex sat the horse casually, as if a moonlit bareback ride was what she’d had in mind all along. She reined the mare slightly toward the building where the watcher was hiding, just to make sure he got a good look. Alex sensed as much as saw a sharp movement in the shadows.
Gotcha.
She headed the horse slowly toward the trail that led into the mountains behind Athena. Then she urged the gray into the leggy canter that was like riding a rocking chair, even bareback.
She had mentally picked her spot before she’d ever started in that direction. She’d spent so many hours staring up at the mountains from the grounds that she knew exactly what could be seen from where. She cued Charm as they neared the cluster of scrubby whitethorn acacia trees. The moment they were past them she spun the gray off the trail into the soft dirt behind the trees, the perfect spot for an ambush. The mare dug in her heels and executed a stop that would have done a champion stock horse proud.
Alex leaped down and ground-tied the mare by tossing the reins over her head to dangle, all it took for the well-trained animal. She moved in a crouch to where she could look back the way they’d come. She spotted him immediately. Her lure was working, and he’d stepped out from the shadows and stood in plain sight, looking up toward the mountains.
“If I had my HK, I could take you out just like that,” she whispered to herself. “Come on, follow me.”
She was joking about the Heckler & Koch sniper rifle. But she took the man seriously. Whoever he was she sensed he was a threat to someone or something she held dear. And she, as any Athenan, would protect what she loved. Whatever it took.
She waited, watching, as he moved across the open land between the science lab and the stable. He stopped near the stable door and stared up the trail. Charm stood quietly, patiently, as any Athena horse was expected to do. Seconds, then minutes ticked by. Still she and her amiable companion waited and watched, Alex deriving not a little pleasure in having so completely turned the tables on their observer.
She saw him glance at the stables, and instinctively knew what he was thinking.
She almost hoped he would do it. It would be something to see, since she somehow doubted he was an experienced horseman.
Instead of getting a horse he started walking along the path she’d taken between the stable and the arena. He probably thought she had continued at full tilt up the mountain trail, and thus was long out of sight and hearing. Which had been, of course, her intent. He’d have been more on guard approaching her in the stable, but here he had no idea what her position might be.
He stopped at the foot of the mountain trail, still looking upward. She could see him a little better now, not his face, but at least that he had dark hair, was solidly built and tall.
So was the guy at the morgue in Casa Grande.
Was this him? Could she have been followed? Was he good enough to tail her without her noticing? She didn’t think so, not all the way to Athena.
Another thought struck her. What if he hadn’t had to follow her? What if he’d already known Athena was where she was going? Or would go?
That idea made her jaw tighten. Being followed was one thing. Having somebody know for certain where she would go, and having him also know where Athena was, indicated prior knowledge and had implications she didn’t like.
She inhaled sharply when he turned and walked back to the stable. As he peered through the stable door she’d left open, she had to suppress a sudden urge to vault onto Charm’s back and charge down there, yank the guy off his feet and do whatever it took to get him to talk, to tell her what he was doing here, what he was after. Patience had been a long and hard lesson for her to learn in her years here, she who had never had to wait for much in her privileged life. But like everything at Athena, the lessons—both academic and otherwise—had been tailored to the individual, and she’d been forced to learn that one, albeit sometimes the hard way.
She waited.
He stepped inside the stable.
She waited some more.
And waited.
Waited still.
After an hour, she wondered if he were simply going to stay there until she came back, stage an ambush of his own. Did he figure he could get away with it because there was so little staff here on the break between trimesters?
As she sat there she puzzled through what few facts she knew. She was fairly certain no one would be after her because of any cases she’d worked. As a Forensic Scientist II in the Trace Evidence unit, she wasn’t high profile enough for that. She hadn’t testified in any big cases that would bring someone down on her. Her superiors generally took care of that, even if she had done the work. She wasn’t in it for the glory, so didn’t care. Although if the promotion she was up for came through, that would change.
It had to be about Rainy. And if that were the case, that left only a few possibilities she could think of. Somebody thought she knew something they didn’t want her to know. Or, they were afraid she’d find something.
If she was right and this was connected to Rainy’s death, it quite simply proved her theory that there was much more to this than an accident.
Suddenly she sharpened her attention, realizing her tired mind and body had been drifting. She hadn’t slept, she was sure, but the sky was changing from black to inky blue. As the first glow of actual light broke in the distance, she realized she’d have to risk the gun and go down before it became too light to move surreptitiously, if she wanted to catch him. Moving quickly, running on sheer willpower, she remounted the ever-patient Charm and tried to keep the stable in sight as she headed down the trail slowly enough to stay quiet.
As it turned out, she didn’t need to be quiet. She heard the throaty roar of a motorcycle break the stillness. Charm’s ears snapped forward at the unaccustomed sound.
Not a machine to sneak around with, Alex thought as the sound echoed around her, but ideal for coming and going cross-country rather than by the road, which probably made it a good choice, she admitted reluctantly.
Moments later as the sound began to fade to the north, she realized he’d done exactly that.
“Okay,” she muttered, “so you’re a smart boy.”
She legged Charm into a gallop and sent her cutting across the grounds back to the stable. She entered cautiously, but the man was gone. Quickly she took care of the willing gray, crooning to her as she did a quick grooming and checked her hooves for stones. Satisfied, she double-checked the feeding instructions posted on the stall and gave the horse a small scoop of the appropriate grain mixture, not enough to interfere with her routine but enough to reward her for the extra effort of the night.
Then she set about searching the stable, both to make sure he’d left nothing behind and that he had done no damage. The horses began to nicker greetings, no doubt thinking she was there for morning feeding. She checked the stalls first, to make sure each animal was safe and unharmed. Then she went about the rest methodically, starting at one end of the building, intending to work to the other, from top to bottom. Then she stopped. Turned to look from the doorway across the stable.
He was good, she thought. She’d seen that. Likely a pro. So where would he have gone to wait? Where would she have gone? She scanned the shadowy interior, gauging. After a moment she headed for the third stall on the right.
It was empty. There was no feed and care regimen posted, so she assumed it had been vacant for a while, the straw inside waiting for a new occupant.
He’d been very careful. But she knew. Not just because the empty stall was the most logical, but because there was the faintest of flat spots in the straw near the outer door. When she got there she covered her hand with her shirt and unlatched the top half of the Dutch door, knowing she’d come back to check it for prints, though she doubted there’d be any. Then she knew she was right, because without opening it any farther, she could see straight up the trail she had taken into the foothills.
He’d watched from here. Patiently. Until the
growing light had chased him away.
What he would have done if she’d come back, she had no idea. Would he have attacked? Tried to kill her? He’d had a chance at that, so she didn’t think murder had been his intention. At least, not yet. But what could he have hoped to accomplish simply by watching?
Contact? Had that been the goal? And if so, why? And why her?
She had no idea and at this point was simply glad he hadn’t hurt the horses in any way. She hastened out of the stall, secured the doors once more, and continued her search. When she was satisfied that he’d left nothing behind—at least, nothing that she would be able to find without some equipment she didn’t have—she headed at a jog toward staff housing and the principal’s bungalow.
This was not going to please Christine at all. Athena was her baby, she had dedicated herself to the school and its students completely, and she would take any threat to it very, very seriously.
“I’m taking it pretty damned seriously myself,” Alex muttered aloud. “In fact, I’d have to say I’m downright ticked off.”
Well, whoever he was, he probably hadn’t gotten what he wanted. And if he came back, he would soon learn it wasn’t smart to tick off a Cassandra.
Chapter 4
“Y ou’re certain you’re all right?”
“Of course,” Alex told her former principal. “He never got anywhere near me. Unfortunately, I didn’t get near him, either.”
“Mmm,” Christine murmured. “And if he’d gone after someone or something else?”
“I would have stopped him.” She frowned. “I should have just grabbed him while I had the chance. I would have found out what he was after.”
“You said he was armed. You weren’t.”
“Yes.” She turned to look at Christine head-on. “So?”
Christine chuckled. “I wasn’t impugning your competency, Alex. Merely pointing out that in those circumstances, with an opponent you haven’t been able to assess, it’s wisest to leave hand-to-hand combat as a last resort.”
“Well,” Alex groused, “at least we’d know who he was, or who sent him.”
“We will,” Christine said. “Eventually.”
“I want to know now.”
“Remember that old Dutch proverb, Alexandra.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. A handful of patience is worth more than a bushel of brains. But somebody else said you had to have patience to learn patience.”
Christine chuckled. “It was always your biggest challenge, wasn’t it?”
“Isn’t it,” Alex corrected her wryly, acknowledging the lifelong battle it would probably be for her.
“That you know it is still your challenge indicates you’re winning the fight,” Christine said, ever the wise mentor. “Of course, wandering around Athena at night isn’t exactly new to you, now is it? After all, you’re one of the few to actually see the Dark Angel.”
Alex’s eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. Christine smiled at her.
“Did you really think I didn’t know what you girls called him?”
“I…we…”
Alex fumbled to a halt, a little amazed at how embarrassing it was now, looking back over the years at that bit of adolescent romanticizing.
“You were teenage girls,” Christine said soothingly. “It’s in the nature of the creature to romanticize something like that.”
Alex’s mouth quirked. “I suppose. And it did seem wildly romantic to us back then, this tall, dark and handsome guy so desperate to find out what happened to his sister that he broke in here.”
“He was that. For him to come back after the first time we caught him here, when he was just a boy, he had to be desperate.”
“It was crazy that he thought Athena had something to do with her death. I don’t get that, his sister wasn’t even a student here. But it was still romantic. That we never knew his name, or who he really was, just made it more so.” Alex’s smile faded. “I hadn’t thought about him in years.”
“Considering the celebrity seeing him made you, I’m surprised you could ever forget.”
Alex’s smile returned then, but it was touched with a lingering sadness. “He did increase my cachet considerably. I wonder what ever happened to him?”
Christine shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just glad we made the right decision in not prosecuting him for burglary. He never came back.”
“It was just the desperation,” Alex said with a shrug. “People do crazy things when someone they love…”
Her voice trailed off as she realized they were now in the same boat that young man had been in, over fifteen years ago. Were they crazy for believing there was more to Rainy’s death than what the officials believed? She didn’t think so. So, were they any different than he had been?
“I guess I understand him better now,” she said, her voice softened by emotional pain.
Christine smiled, a smile that was as pained as Alex’s voice had been. But her words were gentle, approving. “You’ve come a long way, Alex. All the Cassandras have. I’m so very proud of you all.”
Alex saw the smile, saw the moisture in Christine’s eyes, and guessed she also had been thinking about the new presence of death here in this place they both loved.
“We’ll find the truth about Rainy. I promise we will,” she said.
“I know you will.”
A yawn crept up on Alex, and she couldn’t quite stop it. “I am tired,” she admitted before Christine could point out the undeniable fact.
“I should think you would be. I thought when you finally hit the pillow last night that you’d be out like a light for hours.”
“So did I. I haven’t really slept for more than a couple of hours for—” she had to stop to calculate, proving the truth of what she was saying “—almost forty-eight hours now.”
“You’d better now. Stay here this time. I’ll be making some calls to step up security around here.”
“I can’t. I need to call Kayla, and then get over to the morgue and take another look.”
She was very aware of how unspecific she was being, how vague, as if avoiding stating the fact that it was the body of their friend she was talking about would somehow make it not true. And she knew by Christine’s expression that she was just as aware. But she said nothing about it, merely nodded.
“You can call Kayla after you rest. You can’t do anyone any good if you’re so tired you can’t think straight.”
Alex opened her mouth to argue, to protest she could keep going. Saw the glint in Christine’s good eye and capitulated so quickly it was almost embarrassing. Some old habits were very hard to break.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, with a meekness that would have astonished anyone who knew Alex but had never met Christine Evans. Christine occupied a unique place in the hearts and minds of all Athenans. She was both disciplinarian and inspiration, stern and gentle, and a teacher who was willing to learn from her students, all rolled into one. It was a rite of passage to earn the privilege of calling her Christine instead of Ms. Evans.
Alex did go to bed and knew she was beyond exhausted when the fold-out sofa bed felt like the most comfortable thing she’d ever slept on. This time she did sleep, and surprisingly the nightmares she had feared didn’t come. She dreamed, but the tangled images of Rainy alive and smiling, telling them it was all a silly mistake, were somehow comforting. After a while even those stopped, and she slept deeply and barely remembered them when she woke up a few hours later.
The minute she sat up she knew Christine had been right. She felt much better. And ready to go. Ready to get to some answers.
And if need be, ready to fight.
There had to be something there, Alex thought as she paced the small morgue, waiting for the doctor to finish.
She had a feeling Christine had pulled some strings and called the woman in from neighboring Luke Air Force Base. Although Dr. Ellen Battaglia wasn’t in uniform, she gave the impression. Alex recognized it because fellow Cassandra and air
force captain Josie Lockworth had it, as well.
No one who met Josie was ever surprised to find out that she was a take charge woman, making a success of her air force career. And if that new stealth system she was working on for the Predator spy plane functioned as well as it was supposed to—something Alex didn’t at all doubt, knowing Josie—there was likely no limit to how far she could go.
“Ready,” the doctor said.
Taking a deep breath, Alex braced herself to look at a very intimate part of one of the dearest people in her life, excised from her body with cold steel. Then she turned around.
The doctor had set a gleaming silver metal tray on a table. Knowing what was in it, Alex had to once more beat down her emotions.
It’s a scientific puzzle, just like anything else you work on every day, she told herself. You can do this. You have to do this.
Still, the two small organs on the gleaming tray made her shiver. With a final effort, she made herself focus on the puzzle, of which these were just a single part. But perhaps a crucial part.
Now that she again saw what she’d seen previously, with plenty of time to look carefully, she was certain her first thought was right. And now she noticed something else, something that bothered her even more.
“Dr. Battaglia?”
The doctor, who had turned away with a welcome sensitivity, turned back. “Yes?”
Alex pointed to the areas on the outer surface of the ovaries. “If you had to guess…how old would you say those scars are?”
The woman leaned over for a closer examination. “These things can be tricky,” she said. “There are so many variables. I’d guess they are older, but I’d hate to testify to an exact age. I’ll take some tissue samples, that may help. But one thing I can say with some certainty.”
“What?”
“The majority of those scars are the same age.”
“The same age?” Alex’s breath caught. If all those scars were made at the same time, then her suspicions had to be correct. “And the regularity of the spacing,” she said. “It looks…mechanical.”
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