by Karen Fenech
She pitched her voice to be heard above the idling engine of Richard’s car and the call of a Loon. “I don’t have time for your wild tale. I need to notify Richard’s family about his death.”
“You won’t be notifying anyone yet,” Burke said.
The day had cooled with the onset of evening. The slight breeze now felt too cold. Goose bumps sprang on her bare arms. She rubbed her skin to warm it.
“What?” she said. “Of course, I’m going to let Richard’s parents know he’s dead.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
Though spoken softly, there was an edge to the statement that sounded like a command and Eve straightened her shoulders. “You have custody of Richard’s body for the moment, but I can and will call the Pattersons about their son.”
Burke shook his head slowly. “At this point, revealing that Richard is dead will compromise our national security.”
Eve let Burke hear how ridiculous she found that statement in her sharp tone. “Richard was no threat to the security of our country.”
Burke replaced the handcuffs he held in a back pocket and met her glare. “We’ve learned that Richard Patterson, and an accomplice we’ve determined is you, created and are marketing a formula for a deadly chemical agent.”
“You think we’re terrorists?” Eve pressed her lips together briefly. “Hear me: Richard and I develop perfumes and cosmetics.”
She and Richard started their business four years earlier. Richard, whom she’d met through mutual friends, had approached her to become his partner. Though she hadn’t acknowledged it then, his offer was a life-line to her. Her career with the LAPD had ended shortly before under a cloud of scandal. Her marriage fell apart and her worst fear was realized: Emily died. Her bright and beautiful little girl was lost to her forever.
Recalling that day tore Eve’s heart. She fought back the pain of Emily’s death and forced herself to focus on Burke.
“Our business has earned a solid reputation in the industry that I take great pride in,” Eve said. “Sorry to disappoint you, Burke, but the most deadly formula we’ve created is a kick-ass anti-wrinkle cream.”
Burke crossed his arms. “We know that you and Richard are planning to meet a buyer for your formula tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow Richard and I were scheduled to attend a series of lectures at a chemist’s conference in Pittsburgh which you know about. We had no appointments.”
Burke went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Your meeting is set for tomorrow evening at the cottage Richard Patterson rented for your three night stay in Rowland.”
The cottage. Eve rolled her eyes. A get- back- to- nature place that was a ninety minute drive from the hotel where the conference was being held had not been her ideal accommodation for a business trip. She would never have expected city-lover Richard to make that choice. He was no outdoors man and his claim of wanting to get away from the city and enjoy some quiet time in a country setting had struck her as out of character. Then again, little about Richard’s behavior in recent months had been what she was used to from him.
The perpetually surly Richard had been in an unusually happy frame of mind that he didn’t elaborate on when she commented on it. She’d mentioned it to him again as she’d buckled her seat belt earlier that day. He’d turned to her and smiled, showing deep dimples and the beautiful results of a small fortune in orthodontics, then turned up Van Halen and began to move in time with the music. Every part of his body that she could see was in some kind of motion. He was as close to dancing as a person could get in a seated position.
She didn’t begrudge him his good mood, but she resented that since it started, his work had plummeted. He was a brilliant chemist but he seemed to have lost all interest in their business. Clients were complaining and the company lost two long- standing contracts with cosmetics manufacturers. They would have lost a third if, at the eleventh hour, she hadn’t completed and submitted a formula for a new perfume he’d abandoned.
Eve’s lips tensed briefly as she recalled that incident and how he shrugged it off as unimportant. After that, she was half-expecting him to tell her he wanted to end their partnership. She would have been very sorry they came to that after all they went through to establish themselves, but would have agreed it was for the best. She was considering making the suggestion herself when he announced he wanted to go with her to the conference. She attended every year but he never went, proclaiming it a dead bore.
When he mentioned going along, she thought he may be looking to regain his enthusiasm for their work. If so, she felt he deserved that chance. She put the thought of ending their partnership on hold.
None of that mattered now, though.
An image of Richard as she’d last seen him - in the trunk of the sedan - flashed in her mind. She blinked to clear it then allowed a moment to pass while she regained her composure before returning her attention to Burke. “Like I said, our business is cosmetics. You have the wrong people, Burke.”
“We have Patterson nailed and as for you, Patterson himself named you as his accomplice.”
“That’s impossible.”
Burke’s eyes narrowed. Fine lines appeared in the skin around them. “Patterson made it known to his buyer that he was working with you.”
“This makes no sense.”
Burke ignored her comment and went on. “I searched Patterson’s body before Lanski and I moved it. I found some papers in his jacket pocket.” He reached into the breast pocket of his own suit. The crisp white shirt beneath was revealed and seemed to glow in the twilight. He withdrew two folded pages and held them out to her. “Interesting reading.”
Eve snatched the papers from him and unfolded them. The messy letters and numbers that slanted sharply to the right were unmistakably Richard’s scribble. She squinted to make out his handwriting in the lengthening shadows. She expected to find a formula for one of the perfumes or face creams Richard had been working on. It was his habit to record his notes on paper rather than onto his laptop and risk losing his work in a computer crash. What she read, however, was no formula for scent. The ingredients listed formed a deadly chemical compound with an organophosphate anticholinesterase base like the lethal nerve agent Sarin. Richard had taken the process to another level, creating an agent that required less of the chemical to kill and would do so faster. Eve’s mouth went dry.
Her hand that held the formula dropped to her side. She felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She lowered her gaze to Richard’s formula. The papers fluttered in the slight breeze, defying her to deny them.
Which, of course, she could not.
How could Richard do this? The anger at Burke drained out of her, replaced by horror. “If this formula were used, so many people could die,” she mumbled. A coldness crept over her that had nothing to do with the chill in the air and she shivered.
“Am I supposed to be impressed by your performance?”
Eve’s cheeks warmed at Burke’s unwarranted attack on her character. “I don’t give a damn about impressing you. I had no clue what Richard was working on.” She tightened her fingers into a fist, angry with herself over that. Irrational anger. It wasn’t her job to keep tabs on Richard.
“Save it for the courtroom,” Burke said.
Eve took a step toward Burke. “You can’t mean you intend to pursue this?” Her voice rose. “Richard is dead and I’m telling you I don’t know anything other than what you’ve told me.”
“And I told you that Richard claimed you were partners in this plot. We’ve been watching you both for months. We intended to apprehend the two of you and your buyer at tomorrow’s meeting but Patterson’s death necessitated that you and I talk before that meeting takes place.”
“Richard is dead. You sound as if the meeting is still on.”
“Oh, it’s on. I’m going to take Patterson’s place.”
“You?” Eve raised her brows. “You intend to impersonate Richard? Don’t you think whoever was planning t
o meet Richard will notice you’re not him?”
The physical differences were impossible to disguise. Dye could change Burke’s dark hair to Richard’s blond, but there was no way to mistake Burke’s greater height and solid athletic build for Richard’s slight frame.
“We know that Richard and the buyer have never met,” Burke said. “That works out well for us, under the circumstances, and makes it possible for me to take his place. I want you to accompany me. I want you to introduce me as Richard at the conference to lend credibility to the deception. The buyer, as you know, is expecting to meet with you both.”
Eve shook her head. “There will be someone at the conference who’ll know you’re not Richard - his accomplice. I am not that person.”
Burke ignored her comment. “I can’t force you to attend the conference with me, of course, but if you refuse, I will have you transported to Washington immediately for questioning. The choice is yours.”
“Sending me to Washington would be a waste of time. I. Don’t. Know. Anything.” Eve enunciated each word.
Burke let her see his disbelief and derision in his eyes. “What’ll it be Doctor - the conference or Washington?”
Eve couldn’t believe this was happening. That Richard was dead. That he’d created a deadly chemical weapon for terrorists. That she was believed to be working for terrorists as well. Cold sweat broke out on her spine. Fear sweat. She didn’t want to go to the conference and put on this charade but, she didn’t want to go to Washington either to be questioned when she had no answers to give in her own defense.
She needed a moment to think without Burke’s razor sharp gaze on her and gave him her back as she turned away from his scrutiny.
She stared into the darkness as she considered her options. If she went to Washington - game over. Some option. She closed her eyes and exhaled a shaky, fearful breath at that finality.
The conference then? But if she accompanied Burke to the conference, would she only be delaying the inevitable? The inevitable . . . Eve pushed the frightening thought away and forced herself to move on.
Burke had said that Richard and his accomplice were going to meet their buyer. Since the accomplice wouldn’t know Richard was dead, that person would have no reason to deviate from the plan to attend the meeting. When he did show himself, she would be exonerated.
Eve rubbed her temples. Burke’s plan had merit. He had inadvertently come up with a plan that would prove her innocence. He would certainly apprehend the accomplice without her, but being with him ensured that she was in the loop. She’d been a good cop once - her dishonorable departure from the force didn’t change that truth. And just now, she welcomed the opportunity to take this active role.
Eve took a deep breath of the crisp night air. The breeze shifted and she inhaled the sweet scent of lilacs from a bush that was now cloaked by the night. “Okay, Burke. I’ll go along with your plan.”
“What was your relationship with Patterson?”
“What?”
“If I’m going to impersonate him, I need to know how to act with you. There’ll be people at the conference you’ve seen year after year. You’ve probably spoken of personal matters. I don’t want anything to raise any red flags.”
“Your surveillance didn’t give you any juicy details?”
She resented the impertinent question that invaded her privacy, but he had a point. Though she only saw these chemists once a year, they had exchanged jokes about their love lives - and lack- there -of. She had fielded questions on a number of occasions about the nature of her “business” with her partner.
Reminding herself that she needed Burke to be credible as Richard so the accomplice, if he were observing them, would go through with the meeting, she decided to answer his question. It was easy enough to do that. She and Richard were never romantically involved. He’d attempted to initiate an affair early in their partnership. Casual sex wasn’t her style and with Richard that’s all there would be. He was self-absorbed and she was not attracted to his pretty boy looks. She preferred rugged handsomeness, the kind that Burke possessed. She frowned. She didn’t care for the thought and dismissed it.
“Richard and I had a business relationship,” Eve said. “Nothing more.”
Burke nodded. “Let’s get going.”
“Before we leave here, I need to take an insulin injection. I’m diabetic.”
She didn’t think her condition would come as a surprise to him. Her medical history would have been included in his investigation of her.
Without waiting for his response, she went to the car. Burke followed her.
Her cell phone lay on the pavement. He picked it up. “Yours?”
At her nod, he handed it to her. She returned it to her purse and retrieved the two pen injectors containing her insulin and an alcohol wipe. She was on two different types of insulin, a regular and a rapid- acting. She read the labels, selected the injector with the regular insulin for night time. Leaning against the passenger side, she left the car door open to provide light and after a swipe of alcohol across her upper arm, administered the injection. Burke stood by in silence. After, she added the needle to a plastic container where she’d discarded two others she’d used earlier in the day. She’d dispose of them properly when she reached the cottage.
“You take three injections daily?”
Burke knew the number, confirming her earlier assumption that he knew of her condition.
She swatted a mosquito that was drawn to the light. “Yes. This is the last.”
He nodded. “Do you need a moment before we can leave?”
Eve raised one eyebrow. “Your concern is touching, but I’m good to go.”
“Make no mistake, Doctor, my only concern is that you remain well for questioning.”
Eve straightened her spine. “Of course. Can’t have your suspect die on you before you deliver me to Washington.” Eve turned away from him and got into the car. “Get a move on, Burke. We still have a long drive to the cottage.”
Burke glanced at his watch. “We won’t be going directly to the cottage. We have to make a stop first.”
Chapter Three
The stop turned out to be a diner on a country road.
“This is the stop?” Eve made no effort to hide her impatience.
“I could go for something to eat,” Burke said, turning the car into a gravel parking lot. “How about you?”
The dashboard clock in the car read eight-eleven p.m. She’d been late finishing work at the lab, in anticipation of her three day absence, and missed lunch. The idea of food wasn’t unappealing, but the notion of sitting down to a meal with Burke, the normalcy of it, struck her as incongruous given their circumstances. Still, she needed to eat. Had to was more like it, whether she was hungry or not because of her diabetic condition. After three years of living with the disease, she’d learned the routine and respected the necessity of adhering to it. But it left her feeling vulnerable. She didn’t care for the feeling.
Burke parked beside the only other vehicle on the lot, a pick-up in need of a wash, and turned off the car engine. The diner was back lit by the lowering sun, lending a red glow to the peeling whitewashed structure.
Burke took his black wallet out of the inside pocket of his jacket. The shoulder holster beneath and the gun it held were revealed for an instant. He opened the wallet, and again Eve glimpsed his picture ID as he extracted a pair of twenties. He slid the wallet beneath the driver’s seat.
It was an odd thing to do and Eve was sure her facial expression reflected that thought, but she said nothing. If he chose to be careless with his Agency ID, then that was his concern.
“Ready?” Burke asked.
Before she could answer, he was standing on the gravel and swinging the car door to a close.
The atmosphere inside the diner was cozy. Small round tables lined two walls. Garth Brooks crooned a soft country tune from a radio atop the long counter that glistened from the wipe-down it was getting from a waitre
ss.
They took seats by the window. She expected Burke to choose a location that backed against a wall. He didn’t. Too many spy novels, she supposed, had fostered that idea. Seated across from him, she acknowledged that though he lacked the polished looks of the actors who’d portrayed the James Bond character in the movies, Burke would have done that character justice on the Hollywood screen just the same. His suit covered what appeared to be a hard, athletic body. The light shadow of beard that now darkened his cheeks and jaw added to his sexy appeal.
Not that how he looked mattered to her.
The waitress left the counter and ambled up to their table. Eve was glad of the distraction.
