Emergency Contact

by Susan Peterson

  But the thing that made her knees weak with fear and her heart shudder with dread was the knowledge that if Ryan was caught, his fate would be different than hers. He wouldn’t be returned to the center. Flynn would silence him. Permanently.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tess lifted her head and stretched. The map sitting in her lap slid off and curled down around her feet. She left it there, no longer even having the energy to lean down and pick it up.

  It was dark outside and the clock on the dash blinked 10:00 p.m. A light drizzle started, hitting the windshield and sliding down the gritty glass in gray streaks. Ryan reached down and turned on the wipers. The blade on the driver’s side limped across the glass, barely cleaning it.

  “Guess that’s a signal we need to find somewhere to hole up for a while,” he said. “We need a few hours’ sleep anyway and it’ll give us a chance to figure out what we’re going to do next.”

  “I had the same thought,” Tess said. She was worried about the fatigue that weighed on Ryan’s shoulders. He hadn’t complained once, but she knew he must be exhausted. She might not be able to sleep, but she was pretty sure he would collapse as soon as his head hit a pillow.

  The small town they were driving through had the usual recognizable motel chains, but Ryan bypassed them all, heading into the seedier section of town. Tess didn’t argue. She knew without asking that he was looking for a place that was a little less high profile. A bit less touristy.

  Finally he hit the turn signal and turned into the parking lot of a run-down motel. As he pulled into a parking slot in front of the office, he glanced at her. “Out of the way enough for you?”

  “Perfect,” Tess said, climbing out and surveying the pothole-riddled parking lot. She nodded at the tiny sub shop across the street. “We even have gourmet dining within walking distance of our front door.”

  Ryan laughed and walked over to the door to the motel office. He held it open for her. Tess stepped inside and took in the rather startling ugliness of the place. Dust-coated blinds shaded two grimy windows facing the parking lot, and a threadbare rug, with more than a few suspicious-looking stains, covered the worn floorboards.

  A lamp sat perched on a high counter, its bulb casting a dim yellowish light through the room. Tess figured that the weak lighting was a blessing. From the looks of things, she was fairly positive that she didn’t want to see any more of the place than was absolutely necessary.

  A buzzing neon sign blinked on and off in the window, announcing to the cars passing outside that there were vacancies. No big surprise there. From the looks of things, the Center City Motel wasn’t exactly the kind of place that attracted weary travelers. Which in Tess’s mind was a good thing. It made the place ideal for a few hours of much-needed rest.

  In a small sitting area off to the side, a middle-aged woman, in a short leather skirt and tank top stretched over two abnormally large and perky breasts, sat filing her nails. She glanced up at the two of them, her gaze bored. She snapped her gum and nodded a silent hello.

  “We’d like a room,” Ryan said.

  She grinned, red-glossed lips widening over tobacco-stained teeth, and pointed at the desk with her nail file. “Just hit the bell there and Tony will be along to get you one.”

  She went back to filing her nails.

  Ryan hit the bell twice.

  “Hold your damn horses,” a man yelled, his voice filtering through the door directly behind the desk. “I’ll be out in a freakin’ minute.”

  Tess propped an elbow up on the counter and rested her chin on the heel of her hand. Every muscle in her body cried out in protest. The drugs still in her system were affecting her ability to think and see straight. If she didn’t close her eyes and shut off her brain for at least a few hours, she knew she’d be flat on her face in a matter of minutes.

  A quick glance in Ryan’s direction told her that he wasn’t in much better shape. His hair was rumpled and hung down over his forehead, trailing in his blue eyes. His usually clean-shaven face was heavily shadowed, giving him a dark, edgy look. Tess hid a smile. The two of them probably looked as though they belonged in the place.

  The sound of water rushing through pipes sounded and the door behind the desk swung open. A rail-thin man stepped out, tucking the shirttails of a dingy cotton shirt into his polyester pants. He yanked them up so high they came halfway up his chest.

  “Gets so a person can’t even take care of business without someone ringing the damn bell.” He shuffled over to the desk in a pair of matted-lamb’s-wool slippers that had seen better days. He eyed the two of them from behind thick lenses. “How long do you want the room for?”

  “One night,” Ryan said.

  “The whole night?” the clerk asked.

  Ryan nodded.

  The clerk glanced over at the woman seated in the corner. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a couple of marathoners, Stacy.”

  The woman laughed and pointed her nail file in Tess’s direction. “Well, if he tires you out, honey, you be sure to give me a yell.” Her gaze traveled up and down Ryan’s muscular frame with frank appreciation. “You got yourself a prime specimen of man there and I’d be more than happy to finish things up for you.”

  “Gee, I’ll definitely keep that offer in mind,” Tess said dryly.

  Once the registration card was filled out, Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out the cash to pay. Tess’s suggestion that they hock his ring and Rolex at a pawn shop earlier in the day had been a smart one. It gave them enough money to function without having to use his credit cards.

  As he slid the bills across the desk, he peeled off an extra fifty and handed it to the clerk. “We’re not expecting any visitors, but if anyone should show up, we’d appreciate a phone call.”

  The man fingered the corner of the extra bills as his beady-eyed gaze jumped back and forth between the two of them, studying them with an air of suspicion. “I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble here, mister.” His gaze shifted over to the woman in the corner and then came back. “I don’t like the cops nosing around, here, if you get my drift.”

  “Not a problem,” Ryan said quietly. “It won’t be the cops looking for us if anyone shows up. Believe me, they aren’t interested in talking to the cops any more than you are. All you have to do is give us a call if anyone shows up looking for us and we’ll be gone.”

  The clerk stuffed the bills in his pocket and nodded. He shoved a key across the desk. “Take room fifteen on the end. Park your car around back. There’s a small driveway that will take you out to a side street. If anyone comes nosing around, I’ll ring your room three times and hang up.” He ripped up their registration card and dropped it in the trash can. “Just make sure you lock up when you leave.”

  Ryan picked up the key. “Appreciate the help.” He nodded to Stacy and pressed his hand against the small of Tess’s back. They exited quickly.

  “That was smooth,” Tess said, as Ryan pulled the door shut.

  “I thought so, too.”

  “You’ve got real potential for this business.” Tess climbed into the car.

  “Really? And what kind of business would that be?” Ryan asked as he slipped into the driver’s side and started up the car.

  Tess bent down and grabbed the map crumpled on the floor. She sat up and carefully folded it. “Spook business, of course.”

  “Spook stuff, huh? Are we talking ghost spook or the spy kind of spook?”

  Tess laughed and shot him a glance that told him she appreciated his humor. “Spy naturally. You’ve got all the necessary qualities, Dr. Donovan. Something tells me that you missed your true calling. You don’t lose your cool and you think ahead. But most important, you show a solid understanding of the need to grease the wheels of cooperation. All critically important skills of a well-seasoned spook.”

  “I think all those skills come from years of dealing with patients who show an uncanny ability to manipulate the system. No spook lessons needed.”

  She
shrugged. “You still show potential.”

  Ryan drove past the row of cars lining the front of the motel and took a left at the end of the building. He braked at the end of the alley and shoved the gears into Park. The car engine rattled a little when he turned off the ignition but finally shuddered to a stop.

  As he unbuckled his seat belt, he turned to her. “Any idea where you learned what a spook needs to do in order to function successfully?”

  Tess paused and her eyes met his across the length of the front seat. “I—I’m not sure. You don’t think—” Annoyance flashed across her face and she glanced away. “Jeez! Will you stop with the questions already. You’re like some kind of relentless head doctor.”

  He pocketed the keys.

  Tess laughed bitterly. “Oh that’s right, I forgot. You are a shrink.”

  He waited her out, allowing the heavy silence to build until she lifted her head and met his gaze. Both regret and sadness were visible in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I know you’re just trying to help.”

  He shrugged. “Every little statement—every off-the-cuff remark—is a clue.”

  “Not everything. Sometimes a comment is just a comment. People read spy novels and watch the latest block-buster movie about espionage. What red-blooded American wouldn’t know what a spy needs in order to be successful?”

  She yanked open the door, grabbed her knapsack and climbed out. Ryan pocketed the keys but stayed in the car, contemplating what Tess had said. Why was she angry? His training told him he was getting closer, and the closer he got to the truth, the more frightened she became. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to regain her memory. Consciously she did. But unconsciously her brain was fighting her, trying to keep her safe from the knowledge.

  He knew that what she’d just revealed was something much deeper and more meaningful than the simple fact that she might have read the latest Tom Clancy novel. There was a confidence, a feeling of self-assurance, when she talked about government spooks.

  Was it possible she really was some type of government spy? He knew some of Sidney Bloom’s funding came from government grants. Could the government—the CIA or the Secret Service—be involved in some kind of hush-hush research project involving brainwashing techniques?

  He reached over the back seat and grabbed his duffel bag. Human experimentation with an unknown, experimental drug wasn’t something that would be sanctioned by the FDA. Experimentation was always possible, just not with human subjects. But people had been known to test that restriction before. Was it possible that Bloom was doing just that?

  He sat behind the wheel and studied Tess. She didn’t go straight to their room but, instead, walked down the alleyway to the back of the motel. He knew without asking what she was doing. She was scoping out what would be their getaway route should they need it.

  If Tess was involved in some sort of government research project, why wouldn’t she know that? And why all the secrecy surrounding the project? Was it possible that the project wasn’t sanctioned by the government, that it was some kind of renegade group, conducting the research without the government’s knowledge?

  “Are you coming?”

  Ryan glanced up to see Tess standing by the room door. He nodded and climbed out. The possibility of the research being something other than government sanctioned intrigued him. It might explain the excessive secrecy surrounding the project, the almost deadly take-no-prisoners attitude of General Flynn.

  Ryan locked the car and followed Tess inside.

  THE ROOM WAS IN WORSE SHAPE than the lobby. Tess pulled the drapes as Ryan bolted the door. The smell of cigarettes and another unidentified musky smell rose up off the cloth, threatening to suffocate her. Tess coughed and turned away to survey the rest of the room.

  “I can see why the guy wanted to know how long we wanted the room for. My guess is that he rents them by the hour,” Ryan said as he walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. He bounced up and down a few times and then winked at her. “This thing has seen a lot of action.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Tess said, kicking off her shoes and bending down to take off her socks. One look at the condition of the matted carpet and she rethought that decision. Better to sleep with her socks on.

  “I’ll go across the street and get us something to eat,” Ryan said, getting up. “You haven’t eaten in over twelve hours—with the exception of those four candy bars and two packages of M&Ms we got at the gas station. I’m betting you’re ready to swoon.”

  “I wouldn’t swoon,” she grumbled. “Southern ladies swoon. I’m a Yankee.”

  “Really? Where in the north are you from?”

  “Well, not that far north, but from the D.C. area.” She carried her shoes over to the bed and then stopped dead. She met his eyes from across the room. “Holy cow! I just remembered where I lived.”

  Ryan nodded.

  Tess sat on the side of the bed, her mind racing. “I live in a house, not far from…” She hit the top of her thigh with her fist. “Damn, it slipped away again.”

  “Take it easy,” Ryan said. “It’s coming back at a faster rate now. That’s a good sign. But don’t force it. Let the memories flow back on their own.” He opened the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Ham-and-cheese sub okay with you?”

  Tess nodded absently. “Yeah, sure, that’s fine. I’m going to take a shower.”

  When she stepped out of the bathroom, clean and refreshed, she found Ryan already eating, his body hunched over a small café-style table in the corner of the room. She was wearing the stiff new jeans and tight T-shirt Ryan had bought earlier from the feed and farm store they had stopped at for gas.

  A ham-and-cheese sub was halfway to his mouth when he spotted her. He paused, and one corner of his mouth quirked upward in a familiar devilish grin. “Guess I got the shirt a few sizes too small, huh?”

  Tess pulled at the hem. “Gee, ya think?”

  He laughed and tore off a bite, chewing contemplatively. He swallowed and added, “Personally, I think it fits just fine.”

  From across the room, she watched as his eyes darkened with something wild and dangerous, and she forgot all about trying to pull at the hem of the shirt. A delicious warmth flashed up the sides of her neck and infused her cheeks. But just as quickly as the look was there, it was gone again. As if he forced it down, made it disappear. His mouth tightened and the sexy playfulness in his expression changed.

  He reached around and grabbed his suit jacket hanging over the back of the chair. He threw it to her. “Sorry, I should have paid more attention when I bought the shirt. You can use my coat to cover up.”

  Slightly confused, Tess shrugged her shoulders into his jacket. She bent her head and rolled up the sleeves to keep them from flopping over her hands. His scent, now so familiar that it felt a part of her, clung to his jacket and surrounded her with his presence. She inhaled deeply.

  But even as she wrapped the front around her and crossed her arms to keep it closed, Tess knew she didn’t want to cover up. Didn’t want to hide herself from him.

  She’d liked it when his gaze rolled over her length with a smoky seductiveness. It created a delicious flutter deep inside her belly, and Tess knew she longed to indulge in that sensation. But Ryan had turned off the warmth and seductiveness as if he was shutting off a switch. All of sudden, he seemed closed off and locked down.

  Disappointed, she grabbed the other sub and slipped into the chair across from him.

  He twisted off the top of one of the colas and held it out to her. “Do you want a glass?”

  Tess shook her head. “No, thanks. From the looks of this room, I’d rather take my chances with the bottle.”

  She took the cola, purposely allowing her fingers to trail across the back of his hand, her palm caressing his knuckles and the light dusting of dark hair.

  His gaze met hers for the briefest of moments and she saw the sparks of need flare in the depths of his eyes. She wet her lips, waiting. Bu
t his dark lashes lowered, shielding his eyes from her and he let go of the bottle. Before she could speak, he leaned down and picked up the remote sitting on the bed.

  He clicked on the TV. “Let’s watch the news. I’m curious to see if there’s anything about our escape from the center. It’s not every day that a truck crashes through the gates of a research center.”

  Swallowing against the lump of disappointment that rose in her throat, Tess nodded. “I doubt Flynn would let anything leak, but it’s worth a look.”

  They were already several bites into their subs by the time the late news started. The newscaster launched into a quick clip of local interest, a story about a possible break in the downtown water main and then shifted to the national news.

  Tess had her bottle of soda halfway to her mouth when the woman’s voice filtered into her awareness. “In an interview today, Vice President Starling revealed that he would be making a major announcement at a reception being held in his honor Thursday night.”

  A sense of heightened excitement seemed to infuse the anchorwoman’s voice. “Insiders speculate that the vice president will announce that he will not be President Rone’s running mate for the upcoming election. This move is unprecedented in American politics. Although history shows that vice presidential running mates have been dumped before, most running mates who have been taken off the ticket were dumped due to their liability. This is definitely not the case for Vice President Starling.”

  The scene behind the news anchor changed to show a youthful and enthusiastic Starling waving to a crowd at a fund-raising party. The faces of the people in the crowd held a certain rapture—not much different than the rapture seen in teenagers at their favorite pop star’s concert.

  An ugly buzzing sound droned in Tess’s ear, and the vice president’s image on the screen wavered and then blurred. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Oh God, what now? She felt as though she were slipping into a waking nightmare.