Indestructible

by Cassie Miles

  “Pamela was in the first trimester.” His voice choked. “The fetus wasn’t viable. They’re dead. Both dead.”

  When she reached toward him to comfort him, he held up his hand, keeping her at a distance. She knew that he wasn’t accustomed to having anyone share his pain, but she was here for him. She cared so deeply about him. “Let me hold you.”

  “It’s my fault. My goddamn fault. If it hadn’t been for me—” His rage erupted. He pivoted and leaned both hands against the wall. With a guttural curse, he slammed his fist through the wallboard.

  There was nothing she could do or say to make him feel better, but she had to try. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his back. Gradually, she eased her hand around until her arm encircled him. She pressed her cheek against his back. He was so tense that he trembled.

  Abruptly, he turned, pulled her against his chest and held her tightly. They stood that way for several minutes, clinging to each other, trying to make sense of an unthinkable horror.

  His voice was a taut whisper. “When I proposed to her, she told me that she was going to have an abortion, that she was leaving me for someone else, that she’d gotten a well-paying job in Paris. If I’d been paying attention to what she said instead of feeling sorry for myself, I would have known she was lying. Pamela wasn’t a high-powered businesswoman.”

  “Sykes must have gotten to her,” Melinda said. “He’s a powerful man. He could have promised her the moon.”

  “I should have known.”

  But he couldn’t have known that Sykes was close. At that time, Drew didn’t know about The Facility. He was in hiding. “If Sykes knew about Pamela, he must have known where you were.”

  “Why didn’t he take me?”

  Because he wanted the baby. She felt the danger coming closer, wrapping around her like a web made of steel. Finding out about Pamela had to be devastating for Drew, but she couldn’t allow him to sink into despair. “We have to fight. We have to end this.”

  “I can’t think.” His grip on her loosened. “My head is exploding.”

  He needed the time to mourn. But not right now. They needed to be smart. She patted his chest. The fabric of his shirt was still damp. “It’s hard to believe that Sykes would let you go. If he knew where you were, why didn’t he scoop you up into his net?”

  When he shrugged, he leaned back against the bathroom wall. His arms dropped to his sides. “I don’t know.”

  “There’s something that’s been bothering me. Blue was waiting for us at The Facility. It’s almost like he knew we were going to be there.”

  “That’s impossible,” he said. “We didn’t tell anybody.”

  She nodded. “It’s like when we crossed the Missouri at Pierre and were followed. How could anyone guess that we’d choose that particular place to cross?”

  “Not why,” he said. “The question is—who?”

  “Do you know?” she asked.

  “When I was a kid, I went to Pierre with Harlan. I have good memories of the place. He could have had a hunch that I’d cross there.”

  She agreed. “And Harlan knows you well enough to realize that as soon as you knew the location of The Facility, you’d go there.”

  “I saw somebody else with Blue at the lake.”

  “Harlan,” she said. “And I know a way to prove it was him.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Melinda emerged from the bathroom, went directly to the desk with the computer and started rummaging through her purse. Thank goodness she hadn’t taken it on the Harley! She found her little red cell phone, held it up and announced, “I’ve figured out a major clue.”

  From the kitchen area, Jack and Claudia watched her warily. They’d probably heard Drew punching through the wall. His violent behavior shouldn’t be condoned, but Melinda understood why he needed to vent, and she had no intention of getting into an anger management discussion.

  She waved to Claudia. “I’m going to need your help.”

  “Sure thing.” Claudia came toward her. “What’s up?”

  “Back in Sioux Falls,” Melinda said, “when we were trying to get out of town, Blue was on our trail. But there was someone else working with him. A mystery man.”

  Jack looked toward Drew. “And you said there was another man at the lake.”

  “Correct,” Drew said. “A shadow figure who creeps around the edges, just out of reach. He’s plagued me for years. If Melinda is right, that mystery man is Harlan.”

  “Can’t be.” Claudia shook her head. “He’s FBI. I’ve checked his credentials.”

  “I can identify him,” Melinda said, gesturing with her cell phone. “I have a witness who was approached by the man working with Blue.”

  Drew gave her a grin. “Lily the librarian.”

  She was glad to see his tension beginning to abate. If they worked together, they could do anything. She explained to Jack and Claudia, “Before we left Sioux Falls, I was supposed to stop at the library where I work. Drew convinced me otherwise, which turned out to be a very smart move because there was a stranger in the library asking about me.”

  “Which doesn’t necessarily mean he was working with Blue,” Claudia said.

  “We can find out.” Melinda was proud of herself for making these deductions. Those mystery book detectives had nothing on her. “Lily Rhoades, my supervisor, took notice of this person. She thought he was an attractive, older man. Can we e-mail Harlan’s photo to Lily?”

  “No problem.” Claudia sat in the chair behind the computer. “I’ll pull his FBI ID photo off another site.”

  While Claudia worked her magic with the computer, Melinda hit the speed-dial number on her phone that would ring through to the head librarian’s desk.

  “Augustana Library. Lily speaking.”

  “It’s Melinda. I need your help.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  It took a second for Melinda to recall that she was supposed to be taking a couple of days off on sick leave. The break-in at her apartment seemed like a lifetime ago. “Much better, thank you.”

  “Who wouldn’t be? You’re with that hot reporter guy, right?”

  She glanced at Drew. Though his still-damp clothes were disheveled and he was wracked by intense emotion, he was most definitely hot. “Right.”

  “He’d better be taking real good care of you. Or else he’ll have to answer to me.”

  After all Drew had been through, Melinda doubted that he’d be intimidated by a feisty librarian. “Do you remember the man who came into the library looking for me?”

  “Sure enough,” Lily said. “Nice-looking fellow. Just the right age for an old bird like me.”

  “I’m going to send you an e-mail photo on the front desk computer, and you tell me if it’s the same guy.”

  “Okeydokey.”

  Melinda consulted with Claudia, giving her the e-mail address for the library computer. The ID photo for Harlan showed a pleasant-looking man in his mid-fifties with graying hair. He was a bit thick in the jowls, and his nose seemed too small for the rest of his face. Otherwise, he was remarkably average.

  “It’s sent,” Claudia said.

  Melinda held the cell phone to her mouth. “Lily? Did you get the picture?”

  “Hold your horses, kiddo. I’m checking ri-i-i-ight now.” There was a pause, then she said, “That’s him, all right. But he’s better-looking in person. Has a twinkle in his eye. Is he single?”

  “Trust me,” Melinda said, “you wouldn’t like this guy.”

  She gave Drew a thumbs-up signal. Now, they had proof. An eyewitness had placed Harlan in Sioux Falls. He’d been sneaking around, trying to locate her, which meant he was probably working with Blue.

  After she promised Lily a full report with all the details as soon as she was back in town, Melinda disconnected the call and turned off her phone.

  Drew paced, and Jack stood with arms crossed. The lack of furniture in the small cabin made their conversation seem like a confrontation.
The only way they could get comfortable would be to sit on the mattress, and she doubted these two men would go along with that suggestion.

  “He’s working for Sykes,” Drew said. “Harlan admitted to me that when he was my foster father, Sykes paid him to keep an eye on me. Taking payoffs is sure as hell not standard procedure for the FBI.”

  “I’m not defending him,” Jack said. “I don’t even know the guy. We’ve never met.”

  Drew continued to pace as he talked. “Here’s what I think. Harlan figured out that I’d gone to New York.”

  She intercepted him. “Your pacing is making me dizzy. Let’s go outside.”

  “Fine.” He flipped the locks on the door. “When I was in hiding in New York, I thought I was tricky. I changed my name a half dozen times. Every time I sensed someone getting too close, I moved. But there was one thing I couldn’t change.”

  Melinda nodded. “Your writing.”

  “I was doing articles for sports magazines—Harlan’s favorite reading material. He must have noticed something in the phrasing. And he tracked me down.”

  When Drew flung open the door, all four of them spilled outside, leaving the confines of the cabin. Melinda inhaled a breath of clean mountain air, and the others did the same. The level of intensity dropped to a more bearable level.

  Jack cleared his throat. “Okay, Drew. If your reasoning is correct and Harlan managed to figure out who you were and where you were, why didn’t he take you back to Sykes?”

  “That’s easy,” Claudia piped up. “Sykes was paying him to search. It was more profitable for Harlan to let Drew run free.”

  Drew looked to the treetops as though seeking answers in the sky. “He told me that he protected me. In a way, I guess he did. If it wasn’t for Harlan, I would have been locked up in a cage. Instead, Pamela took my place.”

  A silence fell as the mountain wind swirled around them. Melinda knew they were all thinking about Pamela’s death. And the unfortunate fates of the other victims. Abducted children. Young men and women used for experiments. Though The Facility had been dismantled, those experiments could be continuing.

  It had to be stopped. Sykes had to be stopped.

  Melinda straightened her shoulders. “What can we do?”

  “Let’s go back to the original plan,” Drew said. “We set a trap for Harlan. And I’ll be the bait.”

  Melinda threw her hands in the air. “That’s just about the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

  “Have you got a better plan?”

  She didn’t.

  THERE WASN’T MUCH TIME for planning. Drew had agreed to meet Harlan in Lead at seven o’clock, and it was three forty-five right now. He and Jack should go to the house right away, before dark, so they could set up an ambush for Harlan and Blue.

  Jack was on the satellite phone with the FBI agent he trusted. From what Drew heard of the conversation, Jack was careful about telling enough but not too much.

  Claudia had gone to work on the computer, trying to track down solid evidence from Harlan’s bank accounts and credit lines. If he’d been taking payoffs from Sykes all these years, there had to be a paper trail.

  What could he have done with the money? During the time Drew had lived with Harlan and Belle, he never noticed extravagant spending. They’d lived a simple life with no special vacations or lavish purchases. The opposite, in fact. Belle had clipped coupons and saved up to buy a new vacuum cleaner.

  In the storage room next to the bathroom, he sorted through his stockpile of weaponry, trying to decide how he could incapacitate Blue. Shooting him was one option. But Blue might be a valuable source of information. The better course would be to use a flash-bang explosive that would momentarily blind and deafen the big man without causing permanent physical damage.

  Melinda stepped into the room, closed the door and leaned against it. She raised her voice so he could hear her over the steady hum of the generator. “Don’t go.”

  “There’s no choice. I can’t let Harlan get away with this.”

  “I’m not saying you should let him off the hook. But why not let Jack’s friend at the FBI deal with his capture?”

  “Because the Feds have to play by the rules,” he said. “I don’t.”

  “What does that mean?” She stalked toward him. “You’re not going to kill him, are you?”

  Though Drew had a hell of a lot of good reasons to hate his foster dad, he wasn’t planning a murder. “I need to keep him alive. Harlan is our link with Sykes.”

  “Sykes.” Her lips curled in disgust as she spoke his name. “What makes you think Harlan will give him to you?”

  For a bastard like Harlan, motivations were simple: money and survival. Drew couldn’t offer the big bucks Sykes would be paying, but he could give Harlan something that the FBI couldn’t. “I’ll offer him a deal. If he gives me Sykes, I won’t take him into custody.”

  “What?”

  “Here’s how it works,” he said. “If Harlan is arrested by the Feds, they’ll send him directly to prison. Once the FBI learns about his double cross, he’ll be branded a traitor. That’s not a charge they’ll be likely to forgive.”

  “You’d let him go free?”

  “Not exactly. He’ll be on the run.” Drew liked the symmetry. For the past ten years, he’d been looking over his shoulder. Now, Harlan would be living that dark existence, afraid to come out from the shadows. “The FBI will be in pursuit.”

  “What about Blue?”

  Drew surveyed his weapons. “I can deal with him.”

  “It’s too risky.” As she came closer, he saw the concern in her eyes. “You think you’re indestructible, but you’ve never been shot.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “Please, Drew. I can’t stand to lose you.”

  He reached out and laid his hand on the side of her face. Her cheeks were hot and flushed. Her lips pressed together. When he brushed the line of her mouth with his thumb, he thought she might bite him. “Don’t worry, Melinda. I always survive.”

  “You don’t know that.” She tore his hand away from her face. “This isn’t like one of your extreme-sporting events.”

  In a way, it was. He felt the same anticipation, the rush of adrenaline through his veins. His self-healing ability had taught him to be fearless. “I’ll make it.”

  Her eyes squeezed shut as though she was holding back tears. “What if you’re wrong?”

  “Don’t cry, Melinda.”

  He folded her into his arms. Never before in his life had anyone cared enough to be worried about his survival, and he understood why she was scared. She didn’t take risks. Even though she claimed to be a different person after they went over the waterfall, she was still a librarian at heart.

  Her voice trembled. “You said it yourself, Drew. We have everything to live for.”

  “What kind of future would we have if we’re on the run? I don’t want that life for my child.”

  “The FBI would offer us protective custody.”

  “Another cage.” Years ago, he could have turned himself in to the authorities. He knew the value of his self-healing ability, and he didn’t want to be a subject of experiments. Not for Sykes or anybody else. “I can’t do that.”

  She tilted her head back and looked up at him. Tears streaked her cheeks. “Then take me with you.”

  “You’re staying here with Claudia.” He caressed her shoulders. “You’ve got to trust me. I’m doing the right thing.”

  “Is there any way I can change your mind?”

  This was about more than changing his mind. She wanted to change him. To tame his risk-taking behavior. To have him settle down with her for a quiet life of childrearing. Could he handle that kind of existence? Probably not. He’d never been normal.

  He kissed her forehead. If she was right and he didn’t make it through this confrontation in one piece, he wanted to be sure she’d be all right. “Come over here. I have something to show you.”

  He led her
to a three-foot-square, fireproof combination safe in the corner of the room. Inside were most of the important documents in his life. Checking account information, the deed for the cabin, the ownership documents for the Range Rover, the SUV he’d left behind in Pierre and the motorcycle that he’d probably never see again. And cash. He wasn’t sure how much but it was a significant amount—enough to get her started on a life of her own after the baby was born.

  She eyed the safe suspiciously. “What’s in there?”

  He squatted down to the level of the combination lock. “Paperwork. A deed. Pink slips for my vehicles. Some cash.”

  “Why would you leave such important information here in the wilderness? Weren’t you worried about a break-in?”

  “Number one,” he said, “I left it here because I don’t trust banks or lawyers. Number two, I’ve taken security precautions. Watch me carefully.”

  “You and your security.” She tsk-tsked as she leaned over his shoulder. “The word paranoid is popping to mind again.”

  He flipped the combination lock in the most obvious combination: one-two-three. It clicked. “Here’s the good part,” he said. “If you twist the handle on the safe now, it doesn’t open. It fires off an explosive charge. Likewise, if you try to lift the safe and carry it, ka-boom. To disarm the device, dial the combination lock back to zero. Then it opens without problem.”

  Her eyes were wide. “You rigged a bomb?”

  “It’s not a big charge. Nothing that would destroy the cabin or start a forest fire. Somebody standing ten feet back probably wouldn’t be hurt. The explosion is just enough to convince whoever’s messing with my stuff to back off.”

  She paced away from him, then returned to his side. “Why are you showing me this?”

  “I’ve been listening to what you’ve been saying. And I agree that there’s a chance—a minuscule outside chance—that I won’t make it. If the worst happens, I want you and the baby to be cared for.”

  “Even if there’s a million dollars in that safe, it’s not enough. I don’t want your stuff. I want you.”

  He stood to face her. “I can’t change who I am.”