by Lauren Bach
Renata listened confused. Then suddenly it fell into place. All the reasons she'd sensed he was different.
"You're working with the cops," she whispered when he disconnected.
"I am a cop. FBI."
It felt as if the seat had just been pulled out from under her. Reality shifted.
"FBI. You ... you're not one of them?"
"I'm undercover."
Outrage filled her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't think we'd be together more than a day or two." He glanced at her. "Until I knew exactly when I could free you, I didn't want to worry you'd inadvertently give me away. Both our lives could have been at risk."
"At risk?" She recalled the close calls they had. "And when exactly were we not at risk?"
"Your safety has been a top priority."
"My safety? Or your mission?" Renata turned to the window. Her mind whirled as she re-examined every moment of her captivity in new light. And every time she found herself thinking he didn't have to do that, she realized that everything he did was consistent with what she would have expected from a criminal.
Yes, she'd suspected all along he was different. But in retrospect she realized she'd fostered some of the suspicion because she was looking for a reason to justify her growing sexual attraction to Adam. She couldn't have allowed herself to fall for an escaped convict.
And yet she'd done exactly that.
She cut off her train of thought. "Where are you taking me?"
"To that park. From there you'll be taken to an FBI safe house and kept under wraps. The McEdwins will be told you're dead."
"What about my family?"
"They will still think you're missing. You won't be able to contact anyone until the McEdwins have been arrested."
She started to protest until she remembered Adam would still be in danger. "If they hear I'm alive, you could be killed."
The cell phone rang, preventing Adam from responding. It was Ethan Falco, which surprised him. He had left the earlier message for Stan.
"I'm taking the woman to a drop-off point now." He gave Ethan the location.
"My men will be there in fifteen minutes," Ethan said. "Tell the woman whatever you need to get her cooperation, then get back to Lyle, fast. I don't like him being left alone. If we lose him now, we'll never find them."
When Adam hung up, Renata looked at him. "How long have you been working on this?"
"Months. And there's something else you should know. The missing guard has been found murdered. They're saying Lyle and I are behind it. I assure you, that guard was alive and well when we left him."
"Then who?"
"I don't know, but I'll find out."
They were at the park entrance now. Adam reached over and took her hand, squeezed it. "We don't have much time. I know I owe you an apology for ... a lot of things. I'd like to contact you when this is over, but I'll respect a 'no.' Or even a 'drop dead.' And I don't expect an answer now."
She nodded. "It's hard to realize that it's finally ending. For me, anyway. How much longer will you be involved?"
He knew that an answer like "till it's over" wasn't what she wanted. But he couldn't give her an exact date. In a perfect world he hoped to join up with Lyle's family by the next day. The rest would depend on how quickly Adam could draw a bead on all the McEdwins and relay their location to Ethan.
"It should wrap within a few days."
He circled the park, was relieved to find few cars. He parked close to a picnic shelter by the boat ramp. A bathroom and phone booth were close by. He debated staying with her until Ethan's men arrived, but he had to get back. If Adam was spotted he was screwed.
He handed her some cash. "Just in case. I can't emphasize how important it is you don't use that phone. Someone will pick you up within ten minutes or so. They'll approach you and say I sent them. If they don't show or you start to feel uncomfortable, call this number." He scribbled Stan's cell phone number on a scrap of paper.
"And you just told me not to use the phone."
"I have to go."
"Be careful." They both said it.
She reached for the door handle. He stopped her.
"Hell." He pulled her back into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers in a possessive kiss. Now that there wasn't time, he could think of a million things to say. Things that would sound soft and sappy.
He broke off the kiss. He saw uncertainty, knew she struggled with some of the same feelings. Or at least that's what he told himself. Once she was debriefed however, she might hate him.
"Now go."
She climbed out of the car and hurried away.
He watched her in the rearview mirror as he headed out of the park. More than ever, he wanted to get this job wrapped up.
He forced his thoughts to the story he'd tell Lyle. He'd give as few details as possible. Just confirm she was dead, her body dumped where it wouldn't be found anytime soon.
He would also tell Lyle that his partner had firmed up a plan to obtain the C-4. It was one of the things he wanted to discuss with Stan—whenever he reached him, that is. He might need someone to pose as Daniel Montague and Stan knew the character inside out.
Adam had purposely not mentioned the possibility to Ethan, for fear Ethan would insist one of his own men pose as Montague.
He tried Stan's home phone this time, instead of his cell.
"It's about goddamn time," Adam began when he answered.
"You're alive."
It wasn't Stan who picked up the phone, but it was a voice he recognized. His brother, Zachary.
Completely bewildered Adam checked the display to make sure he'd dialed the correct number. "Of course I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be?"
"I received an e-mail stating you were dead and that I was executor of your estate."
Adam pulled off the road. Before going undercover, he'd given Stan a copy of his will and his brother's e- mail address. In the event Adam was killed on this assignment, Stan had promised to notify Zach. He had no other family, and with Zach's problems with the law, Adam didn't want the Bureau to handle it.
A bad feeling settled over him. Only one person could have sent the e-mail to Zach. "Where are you? And where the hell is Stan?"
"Since we're skipping the social formalities, I'll tell you point blank: Stan's en route to the hospital."
"Hospital? Is he okay?"
"I'm not sure. Last I saw, he was breathing, but unconscious."
"What happened?"
"I think he was poisoned. There's a small bruise and puncture on his neck. He started having convulsions right after I found him. I called 911, but scrammed when paramedics showed up."
"I'm obviously missing something here. What were you doing at Stan's apartment to begin with?"
"The e-mail said I was supposed to make sure a Chris Tashley in Washington got an attached data file with evidence that would lead to your killer."
Chris Tashley was a former FBI deputy director and Adam's mentor. Known as a straight shooter, he'd recently been elected to his third congressional term.
"What was in the file?"
"Nothing except your last will and testament. There was also a cryptic postscript from Stan that you died trying to clear my name. What the hell kind of case are you working on?"
"I'll explain later," Adam said. "But how did you manage to track Stan down?" Stan prided himself on his ability to be invisible online.
"Through his e-mail account. He left a clear trail of who sent it. When I couldn't reach him by phone, I decided to visit. I must have arrived right after his attacker did. When I rang the doorbell, Stan yelled. I broke in, but his attacker ran out the back."
"Did Stan give you any clue who did it?"
"He was babbling about his laptop, but I couldn't make out much more. He was fairly agitated. Kept saying your name. And that you were being framed."
"What about the perpetrator? Was there more than one?"
"I only saw one, but he wasn't much more than
a shadow. It looks like there was a struggle. A lamp's knocked over and the papers on his desk are scattered. Whoever was here tried to take Stan's laptop, but dropped it on the way out. The case is cracked. I haven't turned it on."
"You have it?"
"I practically tripped over it running out the back.
Whoever attacked Stan tried to jump the back fence and had a run-in with the neighbor's Doberman."
"That means the file Stan was sending you is probably still on the hard drive."
Zach snorted. "Must be something big for them to murder over. Who else knew what you and Stan were working on?"
Renata. And Ethan Falco. Shit! Ethan had double- crossed him again.
"I've got to go. I'll call back." Dropping the phone, Adam did a one-eighty and hit the gas hard praying he could get to Renata before Ethan's men did.
The picnic shelter where Adam had left Renata was deserted.
He checked his watch. It had been barely ten minutes.
Swearing, he raced toward the park exit. Ahead of him was a green Ford. He sped up, disappointed to see only one person in the car.
Until he saw the person. It was one of Ethan's men, the same one he'd met back in Durham. And he'd already spotted Adam in his rearview mirror.
Forcing a neutral look, Adam signaled for the man to pull over. For a moment, he thought the man would keep going. Then he eased onto the road's right shoulder.
Parking behind him, Adam climbed out and walked calmly toward the driver's door. When he drew close, he yanked out his gun and stuck it to the man's head.
"Where is she?"
"Are you nuts?"
Adam leaned in. "I'm asking the questions. Where?"
The man didn't respond. Adam pressed his gun forward thinking back to the spot where he'd left Renata. Had the man already killed her and dumped her body in the woods? Or in the river?
"Easy!" The man's lip trembled. "She's in the trunk."
"Hand me your weapon. Then remove the keys and get out."
The man kept his hands raised. "I'm just following orders, you know."
"Yeah, I know. Now unlock the trunk."
The sight of Renata lying on her side, bound and gagged tore through Adam. She hadn't moved or responded to the trunk being open. Was he too late?
He pressed a finger to her neck, felt the weak pulse. "What did you do to her?"
"Chloroform," the man said. "Just enough to get her in the trunk. She'll be waking up soon."
"Untie her and help her out."
Renata roused uneasily. Disoriented, she blinked against the sunlight. Frightened, she looked from Adam to the other man.
Adam grasped her arm, supporting her. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. Turning back to the trunk, Adam pointed to a long object wrapped in a tarp. He had a strong suspicion what it was. "Open it."
Inside the tarp was the other shotgun Adam had taken from the prison guard. Renata would have been killed with it, the shotgun left behind with Adam and Lyle's fingerprints. Just like Irv Wallace.
Adam turned on the man. Only one person could have told him where the shotguns had been left: Ethan Falco. Ethan had advised Adam to leave them behind in the first place.
"Did Ethan order you to kill the guard? Or was it your own idea?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Maybe this will help jar your memory." He nodded toward the trunk. "Get in."
"You can't do this," the man sputtered. "Ethan won't stand for it."
"Ethan's crossed the line. Now get in. And I may call and tell him where you're at." It would do little good to question the man. Ethan wouldn't be stupid enough to let this fool know too much. "If I were you, I'd be more worried that Ethan might decide to leave you in there for a few days."
Once the man climbed into the trunk, Adam closed it, and pressed the key into the dirt beneath the right rear tire.
"You can't leave him like that—" Renata began.
Adam tugged her toward the driver's door. "He won't be in there long. I'll call someone and tell them where the key is."
He grabbed the man's briefcase off the front seat, glanced briefly at the contents. Gun, a cell phone, and the tracking device. Adam took the entire case. He'd have to destroy it before returning to Lyle, but at least Ethan wouldn't be able to trail them. Which gave Adam a little time to figure things out.
"We need to clear out before we get company."
Renata pulled back. "Where are we going this time?"
"Back to the trailer before Lyle gets suspicious. Later I'll make new arrangements to have you picked up."
"I don't trust your arrangements anymore. Couldn't you just leave me at a motel somewhere?"
"Can't risk it. There's a chance this guy's partner may be close by. And you'll be able to trust my next arrangement. You'll be with my brother."
"Your brother's an FBI agent, too?"
Adam helped her in his car. "Hardly. But he's the only person I can trust right now." Speeding off, he quickly explained the full story, including Zach's finding Stan.
She was confused. "If you suspect Ethan Falco is behind Stan's attack, doesn't that end your investigation?"
"It depends. As long as my cover remains intact, I still have a shot at bringing the McEdwins down."
"Alone?"
"No." Adam needed to think through that part. He had to be cautious of who he contacted until they knew who the moles helping the McEdwins were. He also wanted to find out what Ethan was up to.
He turned to her. "Until I can get you hooked up with my brother, it's critical that we both act as if nothing's changed. You're still a hostage; you need to do everything I say without question. And I can't treat you any differently in front of Lyle. Think you can manage it?"
"I have to. Both our lives depend on it."
"I know it's a lot to absorb. And I'll try to keep you informed of what's going on, but don't speak of it, even when we're alone unless I tell you it's okay. You never know who is watching or listening."
Taking the cell phone again, he quickly dialed Ethan's number. The call was routed directly to voice mail. Was Ethan on the phone or did he know Adam was onto him already?
He left a detailed message about the man locked in the trunk. Then he hung up. There was a lot more he wanted to say to Ethan, but for now he'd keep his cards close. They had almost reached the trailer's driveway now. It would be dark soon. And they needed to get far away.
"I need to handcuff you," Adam said. "To keep up the act."
She nodded, but he didn't miss the slight flinch when the metal snapped into place.
Lyle's surprise at seeing her was obvious. "What the hell's going on?"
"Give me one sec."
Adam pulled her into the bedroom, kissed her cheek, and pointed to the bed. "Get some sleep if you can."
"What's she doing back?" Lyle demanded when he returned to the kitchen.
"The roads were crawling with cops. I didn't want to risk it. As it was, one followed me for a few miles. I circled north just to lose him."
"Fuck."
"Don't sweat it. We've got bigger fish to fry. My partner called."
Lyle leaned closer. "With good news, I hope?"
Adam nodded. "He confirmed availability on a hundred pounds. The price is $200,000, cash on delivery. But I have to confirm fast, so he can start making arrangements on his end."
"Then I'll go call my pa." Lyle grinned. "And the price just became $250,000, partner."
Within an hour, they were ready to hit the road. A different car had been left, an older four-door Pontiac. Lyle let Renata check him and change his bandage.
"Looks to me like it's starting to heal," Lyle said.
She shook her head. "It's stopped bleeding since you've been resting. But it continues to show signs of infection and you're still running a fever—"
"Fever, schmever. I always run hot." Lyle popped two painkillers into his mouth. "And don't say a word about the pills. The way I look at it,
I deserve them."
Adam transferred their supplies to the car's trunk then sat at the kitchen table to study the road map.
Lyle scanned their newest set of directions. He pointed to a small town in Utah. "Finally!"
"Is that home sweet home?" If they were headed to the McEdwins' headquarters, Adam needed to drop Renata off before they got there.
"Not yet. But I know these folks, which means the old man will be close by."
"Then let's get going. That's a lot of miles to cover in one night." And Adam wanted to make sure they weren't being tailed.
Whoever drew up the route must have felt confident the cops were searching strictly in New York, because they traveled on the interstate, making good time until they reached Denver.
He glanced at Renata. She sat beside him, her hands cuffed in front, her eyes unfocused as she stared out the window. Was she thinking of her mother who lived close by? Or was she pondering the same unanswered questions he was?
Adam's ears popped as they changed altitude. Bypassing Denver, they switched to smaller highways, and headed deeper into the Rockies. Driving became more tedious, the road an unending series of S-curves and steep grades. He turned on the heat as the temperature grew cooler.
A muffled bang echoed as the car suddenly jerked and swerved. Cursing, Adam struggled to keep the wheel under control.
Lyle stirred from a drugged sleep, confused. "Was that gunfire?"
"We blew a tire. Right, rear."
Adam slowed, but didn't stop. He couldn't. There was a wall of rock on one side of the road and a steep drop-off on the other. No shoulder. They had to make it to one of the turnouts scattered about every quarter mile.
When they reached the next pull-over, Adam parked as close to the tree line as he could. "There better be a decent spare."
He grabbed the flashlight and climbed out. In the trunk he found a spare tire and a crowbar. But no jack. Of all the goddamned luck.
"Now what?" Lyle asked when he returned.
"We passed a car at the last overlook. I'll see if it has a jack." Adam had considered taking Renata along. Except he could get there and back quicker, alone. "You two get out and hide behind those trees. If someone does come along they'll see the flat tire and think the owner will be back in the morning. I shouldn't be gone more than a few minutes."
