“You could do better. You just have to decide you want to do it. I grew up in Hong Kong, where there weren’t any charitable organizations ready to hold out a hand to help. My mother was a whore, and so were most of my friends. I could have been out on that street corner if I hadn’t made another choice.” She reached in her bag, drew out her card, and handed it to her. “If you change your mind, call me. Jackson and I will work it out.”
Cindy stared at the card. She looked intrigued. “Why?”
“Because I don’t like men who think it’s okay to hurt little girls.” She smiled. “And I believe the best way to ‘honor’ this ‘Larry’ is to climb so far above him that you can wipe your feet on him.”
Cindy giggled. “I like that.”
“Good. Think about it.” She turned back to Jackson. “Did you transfer those photos? I can run facial recognition when we get back to the car.”
“I transferred them. You appeared to be a little busy with my informant. And I’ll run the recognition program, thank you.” He turned back to Cindy. “I’ll put in for your fee as soon as I get back to the office. And I’ll let you know when we find him.”
“You do that,” she said absently, looking at Catherine’s card again. “I may need it if I decide to take a break for a little while.”
“No problem.” He took Catherine’s elbow and guided her toward the door. “A break is always good. A change can be even better.” He smiled back at her. “Thanks, again. Let me know if he comes back. Good night, Cindy.”
“Night…” She was still looking at Catherine’s card as the door closed behind them.
“What was that about?” Jackson asked Catherine as he hurried her down the steep flight of stairs. “Get a little distracted? You told me you were in a hurry.”
“I am.” She opened the door and went out on the sidewalk. “It only took a couple minutes. Some things are worth taking the time. She’s young and has her whole life ahead of her. You should have done it yourself. As you said, she’s your informant.”
“Maybe I should.” He opened the passenger door for her. “I was always so busy … and she was a damn good informant. I didn’t want to lose her. I would have gotten around to it.”
“That’s why you take the time to do it while you’re thinking about it.” She glanced at him as she bent to get in the car. “Hu Chang used to tell me that if—”
The apartment building behind them blew up!
Catherine fell forward, striking her face against the car.
Pain!
She was collapsing, falling to the sidewalk.
She couldn’t hear …
She could see Jackson’s face above her. His mouth was moving but she couldn’t make out his words. “Can’t … hear…” Behind him she could see the small apartment building engulfed in flames.
Screams? There were no screams, she realized. It wasn’t only that she couldn’t hear. In an explosion that huge, there would be no one left alive to scream.
“Cindy…” she said hoarsely.
He nodded, his eyes glittering as his gaze went back to the inferno that had been a building. “Cindy.”
* * *
“Lie still.” Jackson was trying to hold Catherine down as she tried to get up. “I’ll call an ambulance. You need to be checked out. You said you couldn’t hear. You must have taken some of the blast.”
“I’m okay. Better now…” She had heard half of what he’d said and her ears were now popping, clearing. The street was suddenly filled with people running toward the fire. She could also hear them, the sobs, the cries of horror. She looked up at the window that must have been Cindy’s. Now it was barely recognizable in the raging fire. “She has to be dead,” she said shakily. “No one could survive that—”
“She’s dead,” he said grimly. “No question. I’ll call 911 and get someone out here to—” He started to curse as she sat up, then tried to stand. “Give yourself a minute to find out if you’re hurt or not. Is that too long?”
“Yes.” She grabbed his arm and used it to support her. “Help me up. Get me in the car. We have to get out of here.”
“Okay. Okay.” He steadied her, then settled her in the passenger seat. “But I have to call in and report this. So do you, Catherine. Neither one of our agencies is going to want interference with the local police or fire department. It has to be handled.”
She had a sudden memory of that fragile girl with her blue hair bows sitting at the kitchen table with one leg tucked beneath her and swinging one foot. All her life, Cindy had been handled. Now it seemed, even in death, it was going to continue. She found that thought incredibly sad. “Not just yet.” She buckled her seat belt. “But someone has to have called 911 already. Not that it will do any good for Cindy. Drive to that park we passed on the way here and let me sit and pull myself together. Don’t hassle me right now.”
“Your mouth is bleeding.” His gaze was raking her face. “And you’ve got bruises. You could have a concussion. I should take you to the hospital.”
“Bullshit. I hear the fire trucks. Get me out of here.”
Jackson muttered something beneath his breath and pulled away from the curb. After complicated maneuvering through the crowds of spectators on the street, he made a left turn and a few minutes later was heading away from the burning building.
Five minutes later, he entered the park and pulled up to the curb underneath a gaslight. He turned off his headlights and leaned back in his seat. “So pull yourself together so we can get the hell out of here,” he said gruffly.
She shook her head. “Take your phone out of your jacket. Let’s start to work on getting that ID.”
“I can do it later.”
“You can do it now.” She took a deep breath. “He killed her, Jackson. I can almost tell you when he planted that explosive. It would have been too obvious to leave it anywhere in that bedroom. Remember when Cindy said that he almost knocked her down when he pushed her aside to go in the bathroom? He probably put the explosive in one of the vanity drawers and set it to detonate when she opened it. It’s a wonder she wasn’t blown up before we got there. He was definitely tying up loose ends.”
“We still don’t know if he’s our man.”
“And we won’t know if you sit there doing nothing with those photos.”
He was silent. “Dan Taylor, my Special Agent in Charge, isn’t going to like sharing authority with the CIA. Cooperation is one thing, but we could stumble all over each other if we—”
“Don’t tell me that. Cindy’s death should mean something besides a fight between the FBI and CIA.” She looked into his eyes. “Let’s find out who the bastard is and if we can locate his vehicle. Then I’ll turn the results over to Claire Warren, and you turn it over to Taylor and let them do what they want with it.” She added, “And then we go our separate ways unless we choose to share again. Okay?”
He hesitated, staring at her. “Then will you let me take you to the hospital?”
“I told you, I’m fine. And if we’re lucky, we’ll be too busy.”
He slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket. “It may take awhile.”
“Not that long. Do you think I don’t know that your director authorized every agent on this case to be issued the new special phone equipment directly linked to facial recognition and the Interpol database? Your boss, Taylor, knows that his ass is on the line if Huber goes through with his threat. He’s going to do anything he has to do to catch him. On the other hand, the CIA can claim that their hands are tied because you have the jurisdiction. Just what the president warned everyone against.” She looked him in the eye. “So stop stalling, Jackson. I’d do it myself if your equipment wasn’t better and more versatile in this case. We both know that Cindy was your informant, and you can’t just write her off. I don’t think you really want to do that. Let’s get the son of a bitch.”
He was silent. “On one condition. The hospital. After we’re through, you go and get checked out. You look like hell.
I don’t want Taylor to blame me for causing bad feelings between—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said impatiently. “Okay. I’ll do it. Now check that ID.”
He shrugged. “I would have done it anyway. You’re right, Cindy was my responsibility. I kind of liked the kid. And I took you to that apartment, so you’re my responsibility, too.” His fingers were rapidly pressing buttons and bringing up screens. “Nothing I can do about Cindy now, but I can make sure that you’re not collateral damage…”
4:50 A.M.
“His name is Lawrence Fasrain,” Catherine told Rachel when she phoned her two hours later. “Sorry to wake you. But I think that we might have something. The explosion had to be a cover-up after Fasrain thought it over and decided he’d been careless. Maybe he’d planned to get rid of Cindy anyway. Huber doesn’t tolerate that kind of self-indulgence in his operatives. Anyway, I think we’ve got to dive in and find him.”
“Sorry to wake me?” Rachel repeated. “Catherine. You almost get yourself blown up, then consider whether you should let me sleep? Slow down and give me all the details.”
“Well, obviously I decided to hell with not waking you and decided to put you to work.” She went over all the events of the night quickly and concisely. “I’m sending you the Interpol and State Department reports right now. Huber evidently picked someone with a background clean enough to pass muster this time. American mother, Pakistani father. He spent a good deal of his time in Pakistan during his early years, but lived with his mother in Sacramento from the time he was twelve. He attended Berkeley and his politics didn’t send up any red flags. He was never in trouble with gangs, and he worked part-time from the time he was sixteen. His mother died when he was nineteen. After that time, he spent summers with his father in Pakistan until his father was killed in a train wreck near the Afghanistan border.”
“What kind of work?” Rachel asked.
“Office. He was working toward an accounting degree. After graduating from Berkeley, he was employed in Marin County, preparing tax returns with a very respectable accounting firm. He didn’t show up for work one day two months ago and virtually disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Address?”
“No forwarding address at his apartment.”
“So presumably he was radicalized by his father during those vacations and was turned over to Huber when he was needed. He must have been ordered to go underground for the last two months in preparation for Huber’s big blowout.”
“That would be my guess. And now he’s prepared to surface for his glorious entry to paradise.” She paused. “You do know he might not be Huber’s puppet.”
“He blew up that damn apartment house and that poor woman you told me about. It’s too coincidental not to believe there’s a connection to the event Nemesis was talking about.”
“That was my call on it,” Catherine said. “I just had to make certain that I wasn’t giving you any false information.”
“I’m happy to have any concrete information at all. No word from Nemesis, and Monty’s been struggling. We’ll start seeing what we can do about finding any info about this Lawrence Fasrain.” She paused. “You’re sure you weren’t hurt, Catherine? You skimmed by that explosion a little too quickly when you were telling me about it.”
“I’m not hurt. I told you, I was outside the building.” She quickly changed the subject. “Jackson’s team has started looking for the van. But it’s the proverbial needle in a haystack. I called Claire and gave her the license number. She said of course she’d be glad to have our people search for it.”
“Of course,” Rachel said sarcastically. “We’ve always found her to be so cooperative. Anything else, Catherine?”
“There had to be a reason why Huber would recruit an accountant for one of his disaster scenarios. A tax preparer isn’t exactly a likely or valuable choice in a situation like this. I can’t figure it out. No useful contacts. Not like an airline pilot or a scientist. I’m trying to dig deeper, and I’ll get back to you. Oh well, as soon as I take care of a stop I promised Jackson I’d make, I’ll go back to the hotel and see if I can stir Claire to get some of her experts on it.”
“What stop?” Rachel asked.
“Not important.” All she needed was Rachel getting upset about that promised visit to the ER. “It won’t take too long. I’ll be in touch, Rachel.” She hung up and turned impatiently to Jackson. “Come on, let’s get this over. We’ve both got work to do.”
BEACH HAVEN
Rachel pressed the disconnect and jumped out of bed. “Fasrain. How the hell do we find him, Brandon? Evidently, Catherine is frustrated about the chances if she’s going to Claire.” She was heading for the bathroom. “And I didn’t like the way Catherine was acting when she was talking about that explosion, did you? It might have been worse than she told us.”
“I don’t have as much experience with all of Catherine’s nuances as you do. I’ll have to take your word for it.” He got out of bed, and added grimly, “But as far as finding Fasrain, we have to get to work on him right away. She’s right, it fits together. I’ll go and see what progress Monty and Nate made on the satellite last night and bring them up to date on Lawrence Fasrain.” He was heading naked for the French doors, where he’d dropped his clothes when he’d come in last night. He looked back over his shoulder. “And we will find him, Rachel. No question about it.” His lips twisted. “If for no other reason than I’m mad as hell at him for making me break my promise to you. It truly was a rude awakening on several levels. He’s got to be punished for it.”
Rude awakening, Rachel thought as she closed the door of the bathroom behind her. After the erotic pleasure that had gone before, that was truly an understatement. They had been jerked back into Huber’s ugly world again in the space of one phone call. Another horrible threat that hovered like a hungry predator in the darkness, a young woman killed, and Rachel still wasn’t certain that Catherine was entirely okay.
But she should stop whining and worrying about what had possibly occurred and start working to see how she could repair the situation and keep any other damage from happening. She was acting as sickeningly vulnerable as Brandon had accused her of being last night.
She couldn’t allow that to come to pass. So while she was showering, she’d work out some kind of plan of action about how to find Fasrain. And try to blank out that nagging suspicion that Catherine had not told her the complete truth …
CALIFORNIA PACIFIC MEDICAL CENTER
SAN FRANCISCO
“Okay, here I am, Jackson,” Catherine said impatiently. “Though it’s a total waste of time.” She jumped out of the car at the emergency room door. “Now get moving and see if you can track down that van. One of us should be doing something that makes sense.”
“You are,” Jackson said sourly. “I’ll call you if I hear anything about Fasrain.”
“Right away?”
“Yeah, right away.” He smiled. “Take care of yourself, Catherine. And don’t you duck out of that emergency room the minute I pull out of here.”
She smiled back at him. He wasn’t a bad guy, and she felt as if she had known him for years, not hours. “I won’t. I made you a promise. I’ll give the ER a little time to bandage me up. And now you’ve made me a promise about Fasrain. See that you keep yours, Jackson.” She turned on her heel and went through the sliding glass doors.
She could see a bustling nurse in scrubs bearing down on her, and she quickly turned to the nurse checking in people at the desk. Three people were ahead of her, and she was glad she hadn’t specified to Jackson the precise time she’d allow for this visit to the ER. Fifteen minutes tops and she was out of here. Maybe less …
“Stop looking at the door, Catherine. It’s not going to do you any good.”
She froze.
Cameron!
She whirled to see Richard Cameron crossing the lobby toward her. He was the same, always the same. The way he moved, those brilliant blue
eyes. The sight of him took her breath. Don’t let him see it. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving you time and energy.” He was standing there before her, his eyes scanning her bruised, cut, face. His lips tightened. “And trying to keep my temper. I told you to let me know if you were going to run into anything I’d consider unacceptable.” His finger touched her cut lip. “I definitely consider this unacceptable.”
Her lip was throbbing, burning beneath that touch, and it had nothing to do with pain. She jerked her head back and away from him. “I don’t take orders from you. I don’t care if you’re angry. And I certainly don’t have time to talk to you right now.”
“I can take care of the time factor. I’ll deal with the rest later. You’re evidently here for some first aid, and I’ve already arranged for it to happen in the quickest possible time.” He took her elbow and nudged her toward a door down the hall. “The ER will take too long. I’ve arranged for a doctor to examine you and get you out of here.”
“One of your avid followers?”
“Dr. Harry Nilsen. A very respected physician who also respects me. Isn’t that convenient?” He opened the door. “I’ll come in and make sure he doesn’t do any procedure against your will, if you like. But I think you trust me enough to know I’d never let that happen.”
“Sometimes.” She met his eyes. “But other times I think you’ve gotten your way so often that you accept it as your due. That scares the hell out of me.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “One of the few things on this planet that does. But as I told you once, since we’re meant to be together, we just have to accept it. I’ll always come after you, or you’ll hunt me down.”
The intimacy of those words was disturbing her, and she instinctively pushed them away. “Well you came after me this time, but you still haven’t told me how you knew I’d be here.”
“I don’t like your being here in this city at this time.” His lips tightened. “I knew you had to be at San Kabara Island, and I liked that even less. I was in Buenos Aires when I heard about what was happening, and I knew I couldn’t get back here in time to help you. I was very annoyed, Catherine.”
Vendetta Page 27
