An instant later she found there was no signal. She hoped that was because she was inside the car. As she was about to go outside and try the phone again, the sedan that had been following them skidded to a halt behind the Porsche.
Both the driver and passenger doors were flung open. Two men charged out. One man was dark-haired, the other blond. Both wore suits and ties.
Eve wanted to be away from there. She knew nothing about the occupants of that car other than that Richard had been terrified of them. But where to go? She was in the middle of nowhere. The car disabled. Her phone useless. She had no weapon to defend herself and Richard. She’d turned in her service weapon years ago along with her resignation from the LAPD.
To buy a moment to think, she reached out to engage the automatic door locks. Ineffective if these men were armed, but if not, the locked doors would keep them at bay.
Before she could hit the locks, both her door and Richard’s door were thrown open. The dark haired man peered at Richard. The blond man reached for her.
Eve drew back. “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but Richard needs help. He needs a doctor.”
The dark-haired man glanced over his shoulder at Eve. His eyes, dark brown and deep-set, narrowed to slits. He pressed his lips together, tight enough that a line formed on either side of his mouth. There was no mistaking his anger, though she could not account for it.
The blond man’s soft, doughy features were grim. Eve’s heart pounded. She looked from one man to the other. “Why are you just standing around?” She was afraid she knew, but blurted out anyway. “We need to get Richard to a doctor. Now.”
“Richard is dead,” the dark-haired man said bluntly.
As he stepped back from the open doorway, back from Richard, she glimpsed her business partner, slumped against the black leather seat. His eyes were glazed. There was no mistaking the vacant look in them now and the gray cast to his skin that indicated recent death.
Eve continued to stare at him. She shook her head, not wanting to believe what she was seeing.
At any moment she expected him to bounce up and burst into movement. But he did not.
Richard . . .
Tears burned her eyes. She pressed her fingers to them. Her hands trembled. She clenched them briefly in an effort to steady them. The need to know how Richard died weighed on her, along with a terrible sadness. She and Richard had been partners for four years and though that relationship had its ups and downs—was presently down—she felt a loss at his passing. Now was not the time for questions, though, or to mourn. She had to keep it together and see him home.
“Let’s get him into our car,” the dark-haired man said.
The men hooked Richard beneath the arms and legs, and removed him from his vehicle. They hauled him across the asphalt to their own car and stuffed him into the trunk. The act galvanized Eve. Richard was dead. Why had they moved him?
Eve left the Porsche and stumbled out onto the asphalt. She was still holding her phone and dropped it onto the pavement as she ran to the sedan.
She reached it and seized the lid just as the dark-haired man was about to slam it. “You can’t move Richard’s body. Drive back to the nearest city and send the police.” What was the name of the last place they drove through? She shook her head in frustration. She couldn’t recall it. She eyed the two men. “There’s a city about a forty minute drive east of here. Since you were on this road, you would have passed it as well. There’s bound to be a police station there.”
The man slammed the trunk and turned to his companion. “You’d better get going. I’ll be in touch.”
“Will do.”
The men acted as if she hadn’t spoken. Eve reached out and seized the dark-haired man’s forearm. Beneath the conservative gray suit was hard muscle. Instead of digging into skin, her nails bent. She bit down hard on her back teeth “Did you hear what I said?”
He met her gaze. “Every word. I’m afraid, however, that we will be removing the body.”
She could see the promise in his eyes, and her anger spiked another notch. “Listen to me— ”
“Dr. Collins—”
“You know me?” She searched her memory, but could not recall ever meeting him. He obviously knew her though, and though he had yet to harm her, that fact unsettled her, reminded her that this man and his companion had been following Richard.
Who were these men? Eve’s stomach went as tight as a fist. Her body went cold with apprehension but she knew better than to show it. She crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze on the dark-haired man who appeared to be leading the other man. “I asked you a question.”
“We’ve never met. I’m John Burke.” Burke indicated the man beside him. “This is Michael Lanski. We work for a division of the Central Intelligence Agency.” Burke withdrew a small folder from inside his suit jacket and opened it for her inspection. It was his picture ID. He replaced it, then repeated to Lanski, “Get going.”
Lanski got behind the wheel of the sedan, and Eve’s heart thumped. “Where is he going?” she asked Burke. “Why were you following Richard? What does the CIA want with Richard’s body?”
“We’ll talk on the drive to Rowland,” Burke said. “Let’s go, Dr. Collins.”
Eve narrowed her eyes on Burke. “You know where Richard and I were going?”
Burke gave her a level look. “Oh, yeah. We know a lot of things about you and Richard.”
Eve arched her eyebrows at the cryptic statement. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Before Burke could respond—if he’d intended to—Eve’s attention was drawn by the sedan. Lanski spun the car in a U-turn then, tires squealing, sped down the road. Dust swirled in the air where the car had been an instant earlier, and Richard was gone.
Again, Eve felt tears burn. She forced them back and confronted Burke. “I asked you what the CIA wants with Richard’s body.”
“And I told you we would talk on the way to Rowland,” Burke said.
The sun had lowered and dusk had descended. In the interval between day and night, there was a stillness, a quiet time. In the silence, Eve became aware of the hum of the Porsche’s engine. She’d thought the car was disabled by the accident, but Burke or Lanski had started it. Obviously, Burke intended that they leave there in Richard’s vehicle.
Eve crossed her arms. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Mr. Burke.”
He braced his hands low on his hips. “Are you thinking to wait out here, hoping another car will come along?”
“Oh, no. I am leaving. You’re not. I’m taking the car. You should have gone with Lanski.” Eve’s cheeks warmed. “This isn’t over. If you won’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll get my answers from your office. I will get Richard’s body released. I will find out why the CIA even knows my name.”
Eve moved past him toward the car.
“You aren’t going anywhere without me.”
She glanced back at Burke. He hadn’t moved, but his eyes had hardened and she knew he meant what he said. He outweighed her by at least seventy pounds and topped her by a good eight inches. Did he intend to use physical force to detain her? On the job, she’d taken down men of his size before. Still, he would need a reason to insist that she accompany him. He was an officer of the law, after all, not a thug.
She raised an eyebrow. “If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to place me under arrest.”
Burke reached into a back pocket and held up a pair of handcuffs.
Eve’s lips tensed briefly. “You have to be out of your mind, Burke. I’m a chemist not a criminal.”
“You set the terms, Doctor. We are going to talk. If I have to arrest you to do that, I will.”
“This is ridiculous. You can’t arrest me without cause.”
“Oh, I have cause.” He leaned in close to her, and his voice lowered to a near whisper. “You’ve been named in a terrorist plot, Doctor. The charge for committing an offence against your country is treason.”
&n
bsp; Imposter: Chapter Two
“Treason? You really are out of your mind, Burke,” Eve said.
In the scant day light that remained, she eyed Burke’s tensed features. It was still just the two of them on this back road. The bushes and trees that dotted the flat landscape were dark smudges against the ever-darkening sky, adding to the feeling of isolation.
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 meeti
ng 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 to 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.
Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers Page 45
