“Or he’s innocent and is running from everyone until he finds a way to prove it.”
“Or that.”
“Well, the vet’s not dead. Seriously wounded with a bullet in his skull, but he’s still breathing.”
“So when he wakes up, he can probably ID his shooter.”
“If he’s not permanently brain damaged.” She heard talking in the background. Cole came back on the line. “We just got an ID on another man found murdered in the vet’s office. Victor Stroebel.”
“Who’s he?”
“He has connections with Wainwright Labs. His sister married Cedric Wainwright.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Jackie is convinced Wainwright is behind the attempts on their lives, but why would the man take out his brother-in-law?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to split the profits from whatever they’re doing?”
“We need to find out if the bullets match Stroebel and Arnold.” She thought for a moment. “And see if they match the Goff family and Daniel Armstrong.”
“All right. Working on it. And speaking of the Goff family and Daniel Armstrong.”
“Yes?”
“They match. It was the same weapon.”
Elizabeth let out a puff of air. Her hunch had paid off. “All right. Keep me updated. We’ve got to find that dog before the wrong people do.”
“I just got a text.” His voice sounded farther away, as though he were looking at his phone. “Says they’re in Virginia. I’ve contacted the Richmond office and they have agents on the way to the GPS coordinates.”
“Virginia?” Her frown deepened. “That can’t be right.”
“Why not?”
“Because Jackie said something was going down in New York. She and Ian are here in New York.”
“Not according to the dog’s GPS.”
“You follow that. I’m going to stay here and wait for Jackie to call me.” She looked at her phone. “Come on, Jackie, call me,” she whispered.
They were ready.
“Thank goodness for the city that never sleeps,” Jackie muttered. She adjusted the collar of her pin-striped blouse and tugged at the waistband of her black slacks. Not her usual attire. But she’d be comfortable and confident wearing it. Or die trying. Hopefully not literally.
Ian sported a dark blue Versace suit, and frankly Jackie thought he rocked it. She shoved aside the desire to take his hand and suggest they just run away to a deserted island and live happily ever after.
She scoffed, shocked at the turn of her thoughts. Happily ever after would be great, but if she didn’t want to spend it behind bars, she’d better get focused.
“You all right?” Ian asked.
“Peachy. You?”
“The same.” He swallowed hard and tugged at his tie. “You made the appointment?”
“Eleven o’clock sharp.”
“What if he recognizes you?”
She lifted a newly arched brow and looked at him over the top of the black-framed glasses. “Would you recognize me?”
Ian sighed. “I don’t know. Probably not. If I was suspicious of you, then yes, I would see the resemblance.”
“Then let’s hope he doesn’t suspect anything.”
Ian watched her, his eyes intense, new lines etched on his face. “Are we really going to try and do this?”
“Absolutely. And we’re not going to try, we’re going to do it.” She studied him. “You don’t look anything like Ian Lockwood.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“Today it is.”
They walked out the door and Jackie couldn’t help winging a small prayer heavenward. She figured it couldn’t hurt. And if it helped … well. That would be a very good thing indeed.
10:30 A.M.
Ian wanted to fidget. Instead he held himself still, gripped the satchel, and took a deep breath. The back of the cab smelled like pine cleaner and reminded him of the lab. A wave of homesickness rolled over him. He wanted his life back. “Are you going to text Elizabeth Miller and let her know what Holly deciphered?” he murmured. He kept an eye on the rearview mirror, making sure the cabbie couldn’t hear him.
“Yes. As soon as we’re finished with this.”
“What if we get caught?”
“Then we have some leverage to get someone to listen to us.” She reached over and gripped his fingers. “You can do this, Ian.”
The look in her eyes, the determination to help clear him, and her willingness to put her life on the line for him did him in. His head dipped and he swooped in to land his lips on hers. Jackie froze and for a moment he did too. Then he felt her lips soften, respond, and he kissed her the way he wanted to back in high school. Every word he never said, every emotion he ever felt, came out in the kiss.
When he lifted his head, the stunned look on her face nearly made him smile. If only—
The cabbie cleared his throat. Ian jerked but didn’t turn away from Jackie. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time now.”
“Well … ah … well.”
He smiled. “Yeah. Me too.”
“You folks getting out or you need me to drive you to the nearest church and preacher man?”
Jackie’s face lit up like Rudolph’s nose on Christmas Eve. Ian wanted to laugh. And couldn’t. His throat closed. “I don’t want to die without telling you how I feel about you, how I’ve always felt about you,” he whispered in her ear.
The color drained from her cheeks as fast as it had appeared. She placed a finger over his lips. “Don’t. Don’t say anything else. Let’s focus on what we need to do here.” She frowned. “And don’t talk about dying.”
He gave a slow nod. “Right.”
Jackie straightened her hair, handed him a tissue from the purse she’d clutched on her lap, then reapplied the lipstick he’d just kissed off.
Ian felt the heat climb into his face as he swiped his lips. He looked at her. “Better?”
She gave a brisk nod. “Yep.”
Ian paid the patient cabbie and gave him a generous tip. “Can you hang around for about thirty minutes?”
The man counted the money and nodded. “If there’s more where this came from.”
“There’s more.”
“I’ll circle the block and find a place to park. Meet you back here in thirty.”
“Or before.”
“Got it.”
Ian and Jackie slipped from the cab.
“I hope this works,” Ian breathed.
“It has to.” Jackie grabbed her purse and the black briefcase she’d brought and strode to the glass doors of Wainwright Labs. Ian shook his head and took a deep breath even as he admired the confidence she emitted. He followed her, prayers on his lips that they would get what they needed and get out without trouble.
Somehow he didn’t hold out much hope of that.
26
10:50 A.M.
Jackie and Ian rode to the fourth floor and stepped off the elevator. A woman in her early thirties, seated behind a mammoth desk, complete with three flat-screened monitors and a bookshelf crammed with binders, stared at them over the rim of her glasses. Her red lips pursed as they approached.
Her nameplate read Brenda Newall.
Jackie forced a small, mysterious smile to her lips. Aloof, she hoped. “Hello.”
“May I help you?”
“I’m Sharleen Howard.” She flashed the fake ID Ron had provided. “This is my associate, Joseph Terrell. We represent the Johannsen Estate and are here to see Cedric Wainwright.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes, of course. He said he would be able to meet with us at eleven.”
The receptionist looked at her computer screen and her face brightened. “Ah yes, there you are. You’re the investors Mr. Wainwright was so excited about this morning.”
Ian lifted his nose a fraction and kept the haughty expression on his face. “I suppose five million would go a long way in the R&D department,” he said in a perfec
t English accent.
Jackie did a double take and hoped the receptionist didn’t notice.
“Absolutely. If you could just wait a moment, I’ll let him know you’re here.” She pressed the button on her earpiece.
“Before you announce us, do you mind if I use your facilities?” Ian asked.
She paused and pressed the earpiece again. “Of course, of course. Follow me. I could use a bit of a break myself. It will take a few minutes. The restrooms are at the very end of the hall.”
“I’ll just wait here, take your time,” Jackie said. She walked to the sofa.
Ian shot her a look that said he was worried, but he’d do his part. Jackie gave a slight nod. The adrenaline flowed and her hands held a faint tremble. But she was ready. Ready to stop this nightmare and put whoever was responsible behind bars.
Jackie settled herself on the couch and waited.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Newall,” Ian said.
She smiled. “It’s Ms.”
“Have you worked for Wainwright Labs for a while?”
“Twelve years,” she said.
Ian stopped in front of the restroom door. “Is Mr. Wainwright a good boss?”
Her eyes flickered. “He can be a difficult man to work for, but I know it’s just because he’s so busy running the company and needs to make sure everything is done exactly like it’s supposed to be done.”
Ian cleared his throat and gave a light cough. “Why stay?”
She gave a light snort. “Jobs aren’t exactly growing on trees, you know.”
Ian coughed again. “But twelve years? Surely that’s enough time to—” He stopped and coughed, a deep hacking cough that had Ms. Newall backing up, concern etched on her face.
“All you all right?” she asked.
“Yes, yes. Do you think I could trouble you for a bottle of water?”
“Of course. I’ll have to run downstairs and get it.”
Ian nodded, coughed again. “I’ll just meet you back at your office. Thank you.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Ian watched her go, cleared his throat, and took a deep breath. Now that he had her out of the way, he could get busy.
Even though she’d been expecting it, when the alarm sounded, Jackie jerked, then she stood and walked behind the desk to crouch. And wait. She peered around the edge, her heart thudding. Please let this work.
Within seconds, the door to her left opened and Cedric Wainwright came out, his expression clearly unhappy. Another man followed him. Cedric stopped and looked toward the desk. Jackie eased back. “Brenda? Brenda!”
“She probably left the minute the alarm sounded,” Cedric’s companion said. Cedric cursed. His buddy took his arm. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“It’s probably some stupid false alarm. Let’s just wait it out.”
Jackie tensed. If they stayed, it was over.
Sirens sounded and Cedric strode to the window, the one nearest Jackie. She held her breath. If he looked down and to his left, he’d see her. Adrenaline pumped, her breath caught in her throat, and she stayed as still as possible.
Another curse slipped from the man’s lips. He spun on his heel. “Let’s go. This better not take long.”
As his footsteps carried him further and further away, Jackie wilted. She waited until she knew they were in the stairwell, then dashed for the office door. Her fingers curled around the handle and pushed.
Locked.
Ian held the stairwell door open and directed people to it. They muttered their thanks as they hurried past. No one made eye contact. The smoke drifting up convinced them their lives might actually be in danger.
At last, he was alone. He raced back down the hall, checking the rooms. Soon the firefighters would be in the building. He found Jackie kneeling on the floor, her face at doorknob level. “What are you doing? We don’t have a lot of time.”
“He locked the door behind him,” she growled. “And I can’t pick the lock.”
Ian froze for a millisecond. “It’s got a key card slot too.”
“Yep, but I don’t have the card.”
Ian bolted to Brenda’s desk. He opened the large drawer in the middle.
Nothing.
Slammed it shut.
The sirens grew louder.
He tried the next drawer, then the next. He stopped and ran a hand down his face.
“What are you doing?” she asked, head tilted, fingers working.
Ian looked at the phone, the stapler, the bin with the Post-it notes.
And a small item that looked like a credit card. He grabbed it and loped back to the door. “Let me.”
Jackie moved out of his way and Ian swiped the card.
The lock gave a soft snick and Jackie pulled the handle down. “Nice job,” she whispered.
“Anytime.” Ian pushed the door open and ushered Jackie into the office.
She went immediately to the tablet on the desk.
Ian went to the items on the desk, papers. He read notes Cedric had written to himself on the legal pad next to the phone. “He was expecting us,” he murmured. “Has big dollar signs next to our names.”
“Of course,” Jackie said. “Money always talks. Now hurry.”
“I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”
“You’ll know it when you see it.” She tapped on the tablet screen and it jumped to life. She slapped the desk and Ian jerked. “Password protected, of course.”
“Of course.” He tossed the stack of papers onto the desk and moved to the next drawer.
Jackie folded the screen protector over the tablet and jerked the cord from the wall.
“What are you doing now?” Ian asked.
“Taking this with us.”
“Hello? That’s stealing.”
“It’s evidence collection. Just a little before the warrant is issued.”
She shoved the tablet into her purse and started helping him go through the drawers. “It’s too much,” she whispered. “We don’t have the time.”
Ian dumped the trash can and dropped to his knees to pick through the papers. He shoved aside a paper coffee cup, found a sticky note, a business card. “Something,” he muttered. “There’s got to be something.”
The door slammed open.
Ian spun, Jackie whirled.
To face Cedric Wainwright holding a small gun like he knew how to use it.
27
11:10 A.M.
Jackie’s heart raced even while her mind flashed twenty different scenarios in less than a second. “Mr. Wainwright? Why do you have a gun? We came looking for a way out.” She played innocent, knowing he wouldn’t fall for it, but hoping it would buy her a little time.
“Which explains why you’re going through my trash and have my tablet in your bag.” He held out a hand. “I’ll take it back, please.”
The alarm still blared. She couldn’t tell if the sirens had stopped or not, but figured the fire trucks were right outside. She decided to try the direct approach. “You’re setting us up to take the fall to keep us from stopping you from whatever it is you’re doing. At least have the decency to tell us what it is,” she yelled and covered her ears. How long would it take for the firemen to clear the first three floors?
Wainwright’s eyes narrowed and his finger tightened on the trigger. Jackie ducked as the bullet smashed into the wall behind her. Ian gave a yell and tackled the man, sending his weapon spinning across the hardwood floor to the edge of the expensive oriental rug.
Jackie grabbed the gun and rammed the barrel against the side of his head. “Don’t. Move.” She spoke loud enough to be heard.
Cedric froze. Ian grabbed her bag. Jackie removed the weapon from the man’s head, but kept it trained on him center mass. Three firefighters came into sight of the office and she tucked the gun behind her.
“Go!” Jackie yelled at Ian.
They turned as one and burst from the office. The firefighters stopped and waved them towar
d the exit stairs. Jackie and Ian darted past them, hit the stairs, and shot out the door at the bottom.
The crowd milled. Jackie slipped Cedric’s weapon into her purse next to the tablet. They pushed through the chaos. Jackie gripped Ian’s arm and he steered her to where they’d left the cabbie. He was gone, of course.
“Keep walking,” Ian said.
“You have any idea where we are?”
“Yes. A vague one. When we were here for a seminar not too long ago, we walked to a nearby restaurant. I think this is the right way.”
Several shops lined the street. Traffic had been redirected so no cars passed them. They walked and Jackie’s nerves continued to twitch. Sirens sounded in front of them.
“The cops aren’t going to be the only ones stepping up the search,” Ian said. “Cedric is going to double his efforts to find us now that we have his tablet.”
“I know. We need to get off this street.” Jackie saw a cruiser turn their way and she gripped Ian’s arm to propel him onto a side street. The tall buildings offered some shelter and comfort, but she knew they were being caught on camera. The FBI would track them in no time. The side street opened up onto another busy avenue. They were far enough away from the lab that life moved as usual.
Which meant cabs.
Jackie raised her arm and waved. The taxi pulled to a stop and she and Ian slipped into the back.
“Where to?” the cabbie asked.
“Where’s the nearest quiet restaurant where you can get good food and have a little privacy?” Jackie asked.
The cabbie smiled in the rearview mirror. “I’ve got just the place.” He pressed the gas and Jackie pulled Cedric’s tablet from her purse. “Call Ron for me, will you?”
Ian didn’t ask questions, just dialed the number. He handed her the phone. Ron answered on the second ring. “Are you all right?”
“For now.”
“What do you need?”
She glanced at the cabbie, bent her head close to Ian’s, and kept her voice low. She hoped the cab driver just took them for lovebirds who were snuggling. “I need for you to arrange a meeting with Special Agent Elizabeth Miller and I need you to do it without giving her enough notice to have backup waiting.”
No Place to Hide Page 19
