by Karen Fenech
Eve wasn’t wearing shoes and took careful steps over the gravel to the sedan. Burke turned to her. “Your suitcase is on the back seat. Take a minute and put something on.”
He walked away from the car and stood facing the road. Eve climbed onto the back seat. The previous occupant of the car had left the engine idling. The radio was tuned to a rhythm and blues station. At the moment, Aretha belted out “Natural Woman” to the accompaniment of the hum from the sedan’s air conditioning system set to low.
Eve removed Burke’s jacket and the towel beneath. They were in the middle of nowhere. Another car could drive up this dirt road and see her in the nude. She shook her head. Her modesty was certainly misplaced, given everything else she had to be concerned about. Still, she dressed quickly in underthings, a pair of linen walking shorts in a salmon color, and a matching blouse. A pair of sling-back sandals completed her outfit.
“Ready,” she called out to Burke when she left the car, though, at the slam of the door, marking her departure from the back seat, he’d already turned and begun to walk back to the car.
Burke got in the driver’s side and Eve joined him up front.
He bent and looked under the steering column.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“This car is equipped with a tracking device. I’m disabling it.”
“You don’t want anyone to be able to find us,” she said softly.
“No.”
Her thoughts started to spin. “Who don’t you trust?” At his steady gaze, Eve pushed. “My life is on the line. I have a right to know what’s going on.”
“I’m just being cautious.”
Eve wasn’t buying that. “The bomb was the second attempt. I repeat, I did not make an error in my insulin injection last night. I know you don’t believe me but someone switched the insulin in my pen injectors.”
“I believe you.” His gaze locked with hers before returning his attention to the drive. “I’d say the bomb was an attempt to correct the botched insulin attempt. I have to hand it to whoever did that. The plan was an excellent one. If you hadn’t gotten help when you did, you would have slipped into a diabetic coma. By the time I went looking for you in the morning, you would have been dead.”
A thin layer of sweat broke out on Eve’s skin.
“We would have concluded as Malhi had,” Burke went on. “that you’d simply made a mistake and taken the wrong insulin last night. Your death would have been ruled accidental. Though if that mattered to your assassin, it no longer does since he used a bomb this time.”
Eve’s throat tightened and she swallowed to clear it. “Apparently not.”
“Your hair dryer must have been rigged while we were at the hospital.” Burke’s mouth tightened into a thin line that bespoke his anger.
“Who would want me dead? And who would have had the opportunity to switch the insulin? We need to find out who had access to my insulin since yesterday? The only people I’ve been in contact with since then have been the chemist’s at the conference, and you Burke.” Eve arched her brows. “Have you decided to execute me?”
Burke gave her another level look. “We can start by asking your friend Alasdair McHampton.”
“Allie?”
“He was in possession of your purse.”
A fierce protectiveness for her friend surged through her. “Allie would never hurt me!”
“That remains to be seen.”
“You can’t think if Allie were the one who wanted me dead, he would be stupid enough to reveal that he had my purse? That makes no sense.”
“We’ve already concluded that had you gone into a diabetic coma and died, it would have appeared an accident. McHampton had no reason to hide the fact that he had your purse.”
Eve chewed her lower lip then said softly, “You can’t harass him. He has a heart condition and the stress of being questioned might bring on an attack.” Her voice softened further. “It can’t be Allie.”
Burke watched her for a time then surprised her by conceding.
“It maybe just a coincidence that McHampton happened to pick up your purse,” Burke said. We need to look into that. But someone tipped our guy off, or knew that Patterson was dead and that I took his place.” Burke eyed her. “Got any other ideas who that might be, Doctor?”
“You aren’t going back to suggesting that I tipped Richard’s buyer off because--”
Burke looked like that was exactly what he was thinking.
“You’re unbelievable,” she said. “Someone tired to kill me and you’re blaming me.”
“You could have let the buyer know about Richard Patterson so he wouldn’t show up for the meeting. You weren’t expecting him to turn on you. It’s possible your buyer got nervous about you being discovered by law enforcement and wants you out of the way.”
“And what about getting the formula from me?”
“He may think you pose enough of a threat that taking you out is worth forfeiting the formula. I don’t know at this point.”
“So you think Richard’s buyer is the one who switched my insulin?”
“It wouldn’t take long to make the switch. Could have been made at the conference when your purse was unattended. It’s possible that he may be looking to cover his tracks completely and stymie the investigation by eliminating our one lead - you.”
It seemed pointless to tell Burke again that she wasn’t a lead to Richard’s buyer. “By making my death appear accidental, he would not have exposed himself. But a bomb.” Eve shook her head slowly. “As we already said, whoever this is, he isn’t concerned about making my death look like an accident.”
“We already connected you to Richard and this deal. No way to try to hide that link. Looks like the buyer’s only concern now is breaking the link by taking you out.”
Eve frowned as Burke made a change to the route they’d been driving. “I hate to point this out but Washington is in another direction.”
“We’re not going to Washington.”
“Oh?”
“I’m taking you to a safe house.”
“Why?”
Burke raised an eyebrow. “I would have thought you’d be glad.”
“That’s not the point. Why the change in plan?”
He glanced at her. “We need you to disappear for a short while. Since the meeting with the buyer didn’t happen, and you’re under suspicion of treason, our next step is for me to transport you to Washington for questioning. Your assassin would be expecting that and may take the opportunity to make another attempt on your life. I don’t plan to give him that opportunity.”
Eve released a shaky breath. “Good thinking. So, where are we going? The CIA must have places set up for this kind of thing.”
“We’re not going to an Agency house. I want a place that can’t be linked to the agency.”
“Where then?”
“I have just the place.”
* * *
The “place” turned out to be Burke’s own cabin deep in the woods of West Virginia. After driving for hours with only brief rest stops, and a quick dash into a convenience store for supplies, they arrived as the first streaks of dawn tinted the sky pink.
The cabin was well appointed with a generator that provided creature comforts like electricity for appliances and for heating water that was provided by a well.
“There’s just the one bedroom,” Burke said. “Go ahead and take it. I’ll bunk on the couch.”
Eve didn’t protest his offer of the bedroom. She was so tired, she could have slept standing up. Still, inside, she glanced around and then over her shoulder at the closed front door. It was a frightening thing to know that someone wanted you dead. Until two days earlier, her biggest problem was how to satisfy the occasional difficult client.
Burke’s gaze softened on her. “You’re safe here.” He spoke the words gently. “No one knows about this place. You could say it’s my haven.”
He shrugged, as if embarrassed to admit to the
weakness of needing a refuge from what had to be a job where he met the worst of humanity and saw all manner of atrocities mankind could perpetuate on each other.
When she’d been on the police force, she’d been detached from the crimes and the victims. She didn’t have a lot of field experience because her application to work in forensics had been accepted shortly after she joined the LAPD. She hadn’t seen human suffering up close, but from the distance of a microscope.
Burke’s admission of vulnerability softened her opinion of him a little, which was the last thing she wanted. He still didn’t believe her claim of innocence. He was only protecting her now because it served his own purpose since she was his only lead to the buyer. His concern for her was professional. The bottom line: She was a job to him and a means to apprehending a criminal. She couldn’t forget that she couldn’t trust him and they were on opposite sides.
She went into the bathroom, opened her purse, and removed her pen injectors and the items needed to take her insulin. She opened each injector and matched the labels on the bottles to those on the injectors. Unlikely she’d ever skip that step again. Satisfied, she proceeded with the injection.
She was exhausted and needed sleep, but she was also now thirsty. She wouldn’t be able to sleep until she’d had something to drink.
Instead of going to Burke’s room, she padded out to the kitchen, careful not to disturb Burke, who might be asleep on the couch in the living area. He wasn’t on the couch, but in the kitchen, making coffee. His jaw was darkened with stubble. He’d changed from a suit into jeans. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and all of her suspicions about what was beneath the conservative suit were confirmed. He had a hard, athletic body.
He glanced at her. “Want a cup?”
Eve nodded. “And a glass of water.”
“Bottled water is in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Eve did. The water wasn’t cold since the generator that powered the fridge hadn’t been on long enough to cool the fridge, but Eve took a long drink anyway.
The coffee maker hissed and sizzled. Burke pushed off the counter, took two mugs from the cupboard above the machine. “Milk?”
“Yes.”
He took a carton of preserved milk from the pantry cupboard and opened it, then tilted the spout over her cup. Eve joined him at the counter and accepted the mug he held out to her.
He left his black.
Watching her he said, “You don’t trust me any more than I trust you. But the stakes have changed for you now that Richard’s buyer has tried to take you out.”
Eve felt resentment rising, but held her tongue, letting him get it all out.
“We’ve now been placed in a position where we have the same objective, rather than before when finding the buyer for you would mean that he would implicate you and give us what we need to create an air tight case against you. Being in prison beats being dead. If you have anything you want to tell me about your relationship with the buyer, now’s the time.” Burke held her gaze.
Eve stared at him in stony silence.
“Okay,” Burke said, after a moment, his voice tight. “Your call.”
He turned away from her. His disbelief fueled her anger. She forced herself to move past it. She had a bigger more important matter to focus on.
“Whoever planted the bomb also tampered with my insulin injectors. That means that someone had to get close enough to me to make that switch.” She pushed off the counter and paced the small kitchen space in quick steps, her urgency mounting. “We need to go over who I’ve had contact with since yesterday. Other than Allie,” she said firmly. “Who else had access to my purse to switch my insulin? I left my purse unattended during Dr. Abernathy’s lecture while you and I followed the instructions in the text message. Someone at that lecture could have gained access to my purse. We need to review the backgrounds on the chemists at the conference.”
She noticed that Burke hadn’t said a word and she stopped pacing to face him.
“Finished?” he asked.
“That’ll do for a start.”
“There is no start. At least not for us. Lanski is handling the investigative part.”
She arched her brows. “Your people think I’m a traitor. Just how hard will they work to find my assassin?”
Burke leaned back against the counter. “They’ll do their jobs, regardless of their personal distaste for the assignment. And if you choose not to believe that, we still want the buyer. Your assassin may lead us to the buyer. Our job, yours and mine, is to lay low and let my people do what they need to do.”
Burke was right. Finding her assassin may lead to finding the buyer. She felt some measure of comfort, but still wanted to be active in the investigation. “Don’t forget I was a cop. You can’t expect me to just sit around here and do nothing while someone is out there planning on how to kill me.”
“That’s exactly what I expect and what you will do. I’d also rather be out hunting this guy myself than being your babysitter.”
“Babysitter!”
“That’s right. Tough break for us both, Doctor. Look upon the next couple of days as a reprieve.”
He downed the last of the coffee in his mug, then set it in the sink. Eve watched him make his way to the burlap couch. She was certain her anger was palpable.
“A reprieve?” She strode to the couch. “I need to find out who tried to kill me. I need to clear my name.”
Burke sat on one of the thick cushions and tilted his head back to look up at her. The angle showed his strong jaw, dark with stubble.
“For the next couple of days, you’re going to stay put. Here. With me. We’re both going to have to accept that. Now, I’m going to get some sleep. You slept like a well-fed baby last night in the hospital. I know because I watched you. Which means I didn’t sleep at all. A sleepless night combined with ten hours of driving to get here has me a little tired. I’m going to shut down for a few hours. I suggest you do the same.”
He lay down and released an audible and Eve believed an involuntary sigh. He’d been running on adrenaline and sheer force of will for thirty six hours. Eve felt a flutter of compassion which she tamped down. It was his fault she was in this mess in the first place. Well, Richard’s actually, but if Burke believed her claim of innocence, then they would be working together to find the accomplice and then through the accomplice the buyer instead of being adversaries.
“Burke--”
“Oh, if you’re thinking of running out and trying to track down the buyer yourself to cut a deal and maybe save your hide, I’d advise you to consider that you’re in dense woods here, miles from a road, and there’s a lake opposite us. I have keys to both the car and the boat docked out front in the pockets of these jeans I’m wearing. I sleep light. Don’t think you can get the keys out without waking me. And, if you decide to stick your hands in my pockets, I just may think you’re there for another reason altogether.”
Eve gave him a fulminating look. “On top of being arrogant, you’ve got quite an ego. Must get heavy, carrying it around.”
Burke closed his eyes. “Turn off the light on your way out, would you?”
Eve had more fight left in her, but Burke had dismissed her. An instant later, his breathing slowed and his chest rose in the deep even rhythm of sleep.
She had more to say to him, but it was going to have to wait. She turned out the light and went to Burke’s room.
The room held only an armoire, night stand, and a bed. The furniture was large, the bed massive. Eve stretched out on the mattress. The bed was made with sheets patterned with blue stripes. They smelled faintly of lemon and were fresh, and crisp. Burke must have made up the bed while she’d been in the bathroom, taking her insulin injection.
Either he liked a lot of space when he slept, or he didn’t sleep alone when he was up here. The thought of Burke tangling in the sheets with a woman did strange things to her insides. She pushed the thought away.
She was angry at him over their argument
and didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but fatigue outweighed the anger and she did sleep. She awoke to the smell of bacon frying. The bedroom faced east and caught the first morning rays but with the progression of the sun, the room was now in twilight. She glanced at her watch, squinting to make out the numbers in the dimness. One o’clock. Afternoon. She’d slept half the day away. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that.
She’d slept in her clothes. Her shorts and blouse were wrinkled. She hadn’t looked in a mirror, but she knew that her dark hair was wild upon awakening. She had no reason to think today would be the exception to that rule. Since she slept on her stomach, squashing her face into the pillow beneath her head, her eyes tended to be puffy and droopy when she rose from her slumber.
