“How do you know it’s from her?”
“I don’t. That means there could be another body back there right now.” She turned toward him and cocked her head toward the dark hallway. “One way to find out.”
He raised his gun again. “What if I told you to hang back here while I go down by myself and clear the scene?”
She gazed at him in disbelief. “I’d tell you to go to hell.”
“Of course you would. Just checking.”
They stepped over a pile of lumber scraps and moved down the dark hallway. The shadows swallowed them whole, even with her phone’s flashlight showing the way.
The hallway was just wide enough to allow them to walk side-by-side. More rats skittered in front of them. The scent of death grew stronger.
“See that?” Lynch’s grip tightened on his gun. He nodded toward the end of the hallway where something glistened in the shadows.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
Kendra stopped.
“We’re stepping on something.” She aimed her phone at the floor. The light reflected hundreds of pieces of broken glass, surrounded by dozens of intact clear capsules. The capsules were littered over the hallway, strewn into the darkness.
Kendra knelt to examine the glass pieces. They were each about two inches long and perhaps a half-inch thick.
“What are these?” she asked, puzzled. “Something a construction crew would use?”
“No crew I’ve ever seen.” Lynch looked down the hallway. “Let’s see what’s down there.”
Kendra stood and continued down the hallway, breaking even more of the glass capsules as they walked.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
Another rat scampered across the floor in front of them.
“Hold the light up,” Lynch said.
She did and what they saw made them both stop.
There, at the end of the hallway, was something she hadn’t expected to see.
A car.
“A black Toyota Camry,” Lynch said. “The victim was picked up by a dark-colored car, right?”
“Yes.” Kendra slowly walked around and shone her light on the vehicle’s passenger side.
Oh, shit.
An icy chill crept over her neck and scalp.
On the door was a magnetic Vroom sign.
“This was it,” she whispered. “This was the car. How did he get it in here?”
Lynch inspected the wall at the end of the corridor. “This plywood is new. This was open until just recently. He just drove the car in and boarded it up.”
Kendra shone her light into the car’s interior. What terror, what horrible sadness, poor Amanda Robinson must have felt here.
Lynch joined her at the car window as she peered into the interior. “Anything?”
“Looks like it’s been wiped clean. I don’t think you’ll find any fingerprints.”
“All it takes is a spot of blood or a drop of saliva. In a few hours, the team at the FBI garage will have this car in about a thousand pieces. If there’s something here, they’ll find it.”
“If there’s something here.” Kendra circled around and looked in the driver’s side window. “Unfortunately, we’re dealing with a killer who’s shown himself to be very good at covering his tracks.”
Kendra knelt beside the trunk and examined it. It was slightly ajar. She pulled her sleeve over her hand, then pulled the trunk lid open and up.
Whoa.
Lynch rushed toward her. “What’s in there?”
She covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve. “Nothing. Just that awful odor.”
“Yeah. I smell it too.”
“He killed her, then left her in here until he was ready to dump her body. Then he—”
Kendra’s nose was still burning. She felt nauseous and light-headed. What in the hell…?”
There was a different scent in the air. Stronger and more bitter than the sickly-sweet odor wafting up from the car trunk.
“Lynch?”
He staggered toward her, struggling to maintain his balance. “Go. Now.”
She turned her light back toward the hallway.
Dizzy.
She was vaguely aware of Lynch in back of her, pushing her forward. The hall was now littered with rats, dead or dying on the floor. Some were still, others trembled on their backs as if arrested by seizures.
The capsules.
Liquid from the broken glass capsules was now all over the hallway. It had combined to form something that now burned her nose and lungs.
Something dangerous. Something toxic …
Another wave of nausea rolled over her. This time she felt as if she might pass out.
Oh, God.
Whatever was in those capsules on that floor just might kill them.
She stumbled down the hallway.
Don’t fall.
Stay conscious.
Stay alive.
How much further?
She was hardly moving at all, she realized. What in the hell was this stuff?
“Hurry. Faster.” Lynch slurred his words. “Gotta … get out.”
Her eyes watered.
Her hands shook.
She dropped her phone, plunging them into almost total darkness.
“Lynch?”
“Right behind you. Don’t stop.”
She reached out, grabbed his arm, and pulled him toward her.
But now, in the darkness, she felt strangely at home. Just like old times.
She pushed forward, sliding her feet to avoid stepping on the squealing, trembling rats.
Keep moving.
She extended her right arm and used her palm to steady herself against the wall. She forced herself to take bigger steps, even as her legs turned to rubber.
She tried to hold her breath, but her eyes and nose still stung. Hot tears welled in her eyes.
Was this hallway actually getting longer?
Her face was numb. Her tongue felt as if it was three times too big for her mouth.
Hurts to breathe.
Hurts to move.
Her legs buckled.
“No!” Lynch was shouting at her like a drill sergeant. “Move! Now!”
She threw herself forward, letting the momentum carry her for the next few feet.
She reached behind her. Lynch wasn’t there.
“Lynch?”
“Go!” He coughed. “I’ll be okay.”
“For God’s sake, stop trying to be heroic. I can’t deal with it now.” Using his voice to zero in on him, she reached back, grabbed his arm, and pulled.
He coughed again. “Can’t … get my bearings.”
She half-dragged him behind her. “I can. Twenty years in the dark gave me lots of practice. Just hang on.”
Finally there was a pale glow ahead. “Almost there!” she called back. “Still with me?”
More coughing from Lynch.
“We can do this.” She pulled harder, and together they stumbled over the construction debris toward the office shell.
Just another few feet.
But her head buzzed and her lungs were exploding.
Daylight!
They hurtled through the office and ran outside, gulping the fresh air. They collapsed on the ground.
It was more than a minute before either of them could speak. Lynch caught his breath first. “You okay?”
Kendra nodded. “Yeah. I think so.” She couldn’t force enough air into her lungs. She was panting. “Still … hurts.”
“Me, too…” he gasped. “And … for your information … I never try to be heroic … I’m the genuine article.”
“Genuine … egotist.” Even her throat was throbbing. “What happened to us? What in the hell was that?”
Lynch fumbled for his phone. His hands were still trembling. “Some kind of nerve agent. Just stay still. It’s about to get crazy around here.”
* * *
“MA’AM,
HOW MANY FINGERS am I holding up?”
Kendra stared at the young paramedic. “Three.”
“Can you tell me what day it is?”
She adjusted her oxygen mask. “Thursday.”
“Good. Now I’m going to ask you to count backwards from a hundred…”
Kendra glanced over at Lynch, who was getting the same treatment just a few feet away.
Three police cruisers were already in the lot, and as she looked at Lynch, a pair of city Metropolitan Medical Strike Team vans arrived on the scene.
The paramedic snapped his fingers. “Ma’am, I need your full attention. Are you still with me?”
“Sorry. One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight…”
As she counted, a second paramedic began cutting the clothes from her body.
“That was my second-favorite sweater,” she said. “You could have asked me to take it off, you know.”
“Sorry. We need to minimize contact.”
A few more cuts and he pulled her pants off.
“Really?” She tried to cover herself.
Lynch was laughing through his mask. “If I’d known it was that easy…”
He stopped laughing when he realized his own clothes were being cut away.
Within seconds, their shredded clothes were in sealed plastic bags, and they were wearing paper gowns.
The next several hours were a blur. Kendra found herself transported to Sharp Memorial Hospital, where a waiting trauma team was oddly well-prepared to deal with her symptoms. It was all in keeping with the incredible nature of everything that had happened to them today.
“Get many nerve gas patients around here?” she cracked to the pair of doctors administering diazepam and midazolam to her.
“You’re our first,” the younger doctor said absently. “After years of Homeland Security drills, it’s nice to finally put our knowledge to good use.”
“Always glad to help.” She had to joke. She was having trouble keeping control of her emotions. Nerve gas? What the hell? It brought up so many questions and frightening implications that she didn’t want to think about yet. She wasn’t like Lynch, who lived in this world. All she could do was just let them prod her and give her drugs and test her for damage while she tried to recover her equilibrium. Somehow that innocuous, helpful, pampering steadied her.
Her next stop was a shower followed by her placement in a hospital room for overnight observation.
This was all wrong, she thought after the nurse left her. She was fine now and there was too much to do. Why was she lying here when she had to figure out what had happened to them? And where was Lynch? He had seemed okay, but how did she know how nerve gas would affect him down the road? In spite of all that machismo bullshit, women had more endurance than men. Ask any pregnant woman on the planet. Lynch could be—
A man in scrubs and a surgeon’s mask entered her room. He closed the door and stepped toward her.
She automatically tensed.
But even before he pulled off the mask, she knew who it was.
“Lynch?” she said incredulously; immediately followed by relief.
“At your service.”
She jumped out of bed. “What in the hell are you doing here?” she whispered.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I’m here to bust you out.”
“You think we’re prisoners here?”
“Not in so many words. But those doctors are really into this guinea pig thing. And it won’t be long before Homeland Security has to take a peek and swamp us with questions. I expect them to be lined up at the door tonight. Nerve gas is a favorite weapon of choice for terrorists. Those doctors must have pulled rank once they got their hands on a real live specimen to practice on. But I bet Homeland is scrambling to inundate us with paperwork. Trust me, they’ll pay us a visit before breakfast.”
Kendra nodded. “Then we’re not prisoners, but they all clearly want us to stay?”
“Yes, but they feel comfortable about not causing a fuss about it. We’re not likely to go anywhere without clothes.” He looked her up and down. “Though I must say, you’re absolutely rocking that hospital gown.” He smiled puckishly. “Wanna turn around?”
“Go to hell. Where’d you get the scrubs?”
“Same place I got yours.” He tossed a thin packet on her bed. “Linen cart. Put ’em on and let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Where I know you’re just dying to go. Back to the building site. By now they’ll have it cleaned up and Griffin and the dream team are crawling all over the place, picking up leads that we found for them.”
She grimaced. “That thought had occurred to me. I was getting a little frustrated.”
“I thought you would be. Why else did I decide to forgo the traditional hospital Jell-O to immediately start making a plan to break us out of here? You wouldn’t have lasted more than a few hours. I’d have roused in the middle of the night to see you in my room jerking me from my slumber and pushing me toward the nearest exit.”
“Like you were pushing me out of that motel?”
His smile faded. “I believe that particular ‘pushing’ was cooperative and consenting on both our parts. I’m not certain that either one of us would have made it out of there if we hadn’t been fighting our way together.”’ He took a step closer and his hands gently cupped her throat. “But I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather be with if I ever had to go through that again.” His thumbs moved caressingly in the hollow of her throat. “You okay? You weren’t just pretending with those jokers?”
The flesh of her throat was tingling beneath his fingers and she felt the same breathlessness she’d experienced earlier. No, not the same. That had been terror, this was the other spectrum of sensation.
“I’m okay.” She took a deep breath. “You?”
“At the moment, just fine.” He smiled. “You haven’t accused me of being an egotist or a grandstander since I came in the room. And I have my hands on you.” His voice lowered as his thumbs stroked gently back and forth. “I can feel your heart beat…” He sighed and stepped back. “But I’d better skip that, I’m afraid. Otherwise we’ll end up in that hospital bed and you’d not appreciate the lack of privacy.” His hands fell away from her throat. “But I could be wrong?”
He was wrong. A minute before she hadn’t given a damn about privacy. She’d just wanted him to keep touching her. They had gone through too much together today. Hell, they had almost died together. Nothing else seemed as important as the fact that they were still alive. But she should care, she should be glad he wasn’t touching her any longer. Sex was always the final searing element that defined life. If Zachary was watching them, he would pick up on those signals that were so obvious to Kendra. No, their relationship was chaotic enough without throwing sex into the mix right now.
“Privacy is important to me.” But she’d been too obvious and she wouldn’t try to fool him. “But I’m glad that you’re doing well. I was scared for you. I was scared for me. Nothing like a close shave and a zillion dead rats to make you appreciate being alive.” She hesitated and then said, “I’m … blurred, Lynch. This thing threw me for a loop. Nerve gas? It’s totally bizarre. Those doctors said we’re going to be fine, but I don’t feel fine. I don’t know what I feel.”
“You will,” he said gently. “It’s gathering like a storm and just waiting to break free. When it does, we’ll all duck for cover. I could see all this was upsetting you. It’s a little outside your comfort zone. That’s why I decided not to wait. The best thing for you is to get busy and just let it come to you. So let’s go do it.”
“Therapy according to Lynch?”
“Absolutely. It’s foolproof.”
“I doubt it. But it’s always interesting.” And oddly comforting that he was this certain he was right about her at this particular time. It was always disconcerting to her when anyone thought they were close enough to read her. Somehow today was … different. She’d analyze and decide why later. She’d
just accept it for now. She turned away and picked up the scrubs on the bed. “I’ll be with you in a couple minutes.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He suddenly chuckled. “I’ve decided I need your protection. I was blundering around like a blind bear before you took my hand in the dark. So you’re stuck with me.” He nodded at the bathroom. “Get going. I’ll stand guard in case a nurse pops in, but you only get that couple minutes. After that, I get to come in and help. Which might mean a significant change in agenda.”
* * *
KENDRA AND LYNCH TOOK the elevator downstairs and made their way to the hospital’s large circular driveway. Two cabs were waiting at the taxi stand. They jumped into the first one and directed the driver to take them back to the construction site.
Kendra looked back as they drove away. “A nurse was giving us a funny look. You probably should have swiped a couple ID badges, too.”
“I could have, but we’re not fugitives from justice, remember?”
“At least we weren’t until we walked out wearing hospital property.”
“Point taken. I’ll make sure the hospital gets their scrubs back.”
Lynch smiled at the odd looks the cab driver was giving them in the rearview mirror. He told him, “Don’t worry. We didn’t just escape from the Psych Ward.”
Kendra jerked her thumb at Lynch. “Well, he may have. But I’ll keep him in line.”
“Nice,” Lynch said.
She leaned back in her seat. “Did the doctors give you any idea exactly what we were exposed to?”
“They’re still not sure. They treated us as if we’d been exposed to fentanyl or a derivative and that seems to have done the trick. It can be deadly in its purest form. I guess we can consider ourselves lucky.”
“If you say so. Why in the hell would Zachary line the hallway with that stuff?”
Lynch shrugged. “Crude security system?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it was a trap.”
“A trap for you?”
“Me or anyone else unlucky enough to find the trail back there.” Kendra bit her lip. “It’s all a sick game to him. He might not have wanted to kill us. It might just be his way of toying with us.”
Lynch grimaced. “You have more experience with this brand of psychopath than I do, but that seemed plenty lethal to me.”
Look Behind You Page 15
