by Jan Coffey
“If you can hear me, call my office. Make an appointment with my secretary. I’ll assign one of my people to assist you. That is, if we can help you at all.”
“Mr. Durr…my clients…”
Martin ended the call. He threw the phone inside his open briefcase. The cell immediately started ringing. He decided it had to be the lawyer again. People like him didn’t take too well to being hung up on. Durr shut the briefcase, muffling the sound.
He needed to think through this. Lately, he’d been spending too much time pursuing politicians and not paying enough attention to the day-to-day details. Not too far down the road, Martin liked to see himself serving as a political advisor for someone in the White House, the way Karl Rove had been to Bush family. It was certainly within the realm of possibility. He could get things done in a way Rove only dreamed of.
As it was, though, he’d been depending too much on his assistant. Joseph Ricker was smart, ambitious. The problem with him was a lack of follow through. And the years were starting to add up. Joseph was getting lazy. He wasn’t as sharp as once was. Not as eager to please. There were flaws in the projects he’d been overseeing. Martin found himself double-checking what Joseph was supposed to get done. That wasn’t good.
This operation had been particularly sloppy. By the time everything was resolved—as the sonovabitch on the phone said—the body count could very well attract attention. It wouldn’t take a genius to start connecting dots and tying everything up in a nice bundle. In a case like that, the legal types wouldn’t settle until they had someone to hang.
Everyone would be looking for a fall guy. That was what the phone call on his cell phone was all about. They were probably taping that conversation, just in case.
Martin Durr wasn’t going to be anyone’s fall guy. He always operated with utmost caution. Nothing would ever come back to him. He understood how things worked.
If his business partners wanted him out…fine. That was their problem.
As for him, he’d finish this up and then find his place in those dark back hallways of power. He had enough money.
Politics was the future.
CHAPTER 53
Nuclear Fusion Test Facility
The metal frame beneath the elevator floor was barely three inches from her face.
It took a moment for her to grasp the fact that she was not dead, and during that time she heard the voices.
They were not here to rescue her.
Marion couldn’t see them, but she could hear the urgency in the muffled tones. She knew they would notice there was a survivor in the facility the moment the elevator door had opened. She’d covered Andrew Bonn and Dr. Lee’s bodies with plastic.
Inching sideways, she realized the frame forming the base of the elevator was about three feet or so beneath the floor of the elevator car itself. Bundles of wire and cable crisscrossed the space.
As the doors opened, two people left the elevator. The footsteps were heavy. She decided they were wearing boots. She imagined the same masked men, armed with guns, that had begun this nightmare, and a cold feeling of dread washed through her.
Marion couldn’t tell if anyone stayed behind or not, but the doors of the elevator stayed open. Voices from out in the lab. They’d spotted the bodies. They knew someone had survived. Then, everything became quiet.
The lights along the outer edges of the floor lit the jammed space where Marion lay. It was difficult not to feel claustrophobic, considering her face was only inches away from the heavy metal frame. The air was warming up quickly. She felt the droplets of sweat run down to her hairline. She guessed this was what being trapped in a casket alive must feel like.
Marion inched closer to the edge near the door. Sheet metal lined the edge of the frame, and some kind of rubber seal beneath the door blocked her view. Working one arm into position, she fit her finger up between the elevator frame and the cement wall. Stretching up as far as she could, Marion could just barely reach the seal. The rubber was soft and pliant, though, and she was able to get one finger around one edge. Very carefully, she tried to peel it downward toward her. If she made any sound, they might find her.
If they found her, she’d be dead.
It wasn’t easy. She struggled to pull the rubber down, but without success. She’d almost given up when she realized that her other hand, pressed flat on the floor of the shaft, had brushed away a shard of broken plastic from the fallen flashlight. Carefully feeling for it and then transferring it across her body, she pushed the sharp plastic up into the seal, puncturing it. In a moment, she was able to make enough of hole that she could get a good grip to pull.
A two inch long gap appeared and she stopped. She didn’t need to pull the rubber any further. She could see him.
There was at least a third person. She saw the soles of two boots spanning the small space between the edge of the elevator and the lab floor. The person had to be standing in the open door.
Marion tried to shift her weight to get her head closer to the hole. She pressed one foot against the floor and the shock of pain in her ankle nearly made her cry out. For the first time since falling, she became aware of the throbbing in her ankle.
She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to forget the pain. From her new position, she could see a little more. The man above was wearing the same gray overalls the killers had worn, and there was something hanging from the person’s belt. It looked to be some kind of radio device. Marion doubted they could use it to communicate with someone on the ground level. It had to be for communication with the others down here.
She could also see the short, gun-metal gray machine gun in his hand.
As she watched, the radio vibrated. Marion tilted her head and saw more of the person answering the device. He was wearing a ski mask. She wasn’t surprised.
“What do you have?”
A man’s voice came through the radio. He was speaking quietly. “He was right. Everyone accounted for but Kagan. We’re going to do a thorough sweep and flush her back to you.”
Shit. They’d called her by name. Shit. They knew she was missing. They were down here looking for her.
Marion didn’t think she could possibly be more afraid.
“I’m ready,” the man standing above her answered.
“We’re starting the sweep now,” the voice said. “She has to be somewhere.”
Marion closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe as she began the countdown until they realized exactly where she was hiding.
CHAPTER 54
Deer Lodge, Montana
Kim Brown couldn’t recall the last time she’d called in sick to work. This morning she had to.
Last night, she’d had a nightmare. It was like that Scrooge story. She was dead. Her body lying on a steel plate in a morgue. It was terrifying. Her soul was hovering over her near the ceiling. She saw both her daughters walking into the dark room. Their hands were connected. They had two bodies but it was as if they were one person. They seemed happy. Then, a man in a white lab coat came in, walked past them, and yanked the sheet off her face. Marion and Amelia both shook their heads. They pretended they didn’t know her. Without a work, they just turned and walked out.
Kim woke up sobbing. She thought she’d been sleeping for days, but it had only been a couple of hours.
She’d been too afraid to go back to sleep. Sitting in bed, her mind had begun to race. Memories of her girls, when they’d both been around, played again and again in her mind. They had gone everywhere as one. They’d walked through their childhood holding hands.
It was Kim who had tried to separate them, but she’d been the one who’d lost. In the end, she’d lost both of them.
She thought about her past as she’d never done before. She realized her girls could never have been any less than extension of each other. They were two halves, one completing the other.
She’d put all the enmity she felt for her husband right onto Amelia. She had been so wrong.
As Kim continued to think of
the twins’ childhood, memories of those other times began to come back to her. She remembered the girls as two dark-haired angels racing and shoving each other as they hurried downstairs on Christmas morning. She recalled Amelia giving Marion and herself a haircut when they’d been five. As much as Kim had been angry, she remembered the good time they’d had when the girls had talked her into getting a haircut, too—by them. The three of them had looked like bona fide punk rockers.
Kim had grown increasingly miserable as her daughters were growing up. She knew that. She was still bitter about being deserted by her husband. She felt like a failure for having to go back to the town she’d been so desperate to get away from. But it had never been the girls’ fault.
The night of memories ended in tears. Kim sobbed, knowing her own failures had driven Amelia away. She’d cried, realizing how much she missed both of them. How much she loved them. She wanted to…to apologize to Amelia. She wanted to hold her daughter in her arms and tell her how sorry she was for everything that had happened. She wanted to tell her that she would take care of her—stay with her.
She wanted to tell Amelia that she loved her. She always had.
They’d told her Marion was dead. But the young man, Mark Shaw, claimed Amelia was trying to give them clues about the whereabouts of her sister.
Amelia had been injured and confined in a bed for years, but she was still trying to help…while Kim was still wallowing in her own self-inflicted misery. She had to do something, anything.
It was half past four when Kim left her bedroom and tiptoed downstairs. Outside the windows, there was no sign of dawn. She went into the kitchen and put on some water for tea. She took the phone into the living room and called the work number and left her boss a long message.
Everyone at work knew about the news Kim received concerning Marion. They all expected she’d be taking some time off. But Kim had not committed to anything. Until now. On the message, she told them that she was not going to California but to Connecticut…to see her daughter, Amelia. Kim guessed word would get around fast. She figured it was time.
Kim didn’t own a computer. She used one at work and knew the systems the prison used, but she’d never bothered to learn her way around the Internet. That was what everyone at work used to plan any trip. She went back into the kitchen and opened the phone book and searched through the Yellow Pages for a travel agent. She wondered if people still used them to make flight arrangements. The only time she’d ever flown in her life was when she’d gone on her honeymoon. Kim hadn’t even gone to Marion’s college graduation. She’d never been to California to see where her daughter lived.
More tears ran down her cheeks. Kim knew she was not just mourning her daughters. She was mourning all the years she’d lost.
She wrote down the name and phone number of a place in town. No one would be there now, but she’d call first thing in the morning.
She saw her father’s bedroom light go on. He never closed his bedroom door completely, but she knew him to be a sound sleeper. Kim wondered if she’d awakened him.
“Kim…” he called.
She wiped the tears with a tissue and went to his door and tapped lightly, opening it. He was sitting on bed, staring at his bare feet and the floor.
“I’m sorry, Dad. Did I wake you up?”
He shook his head. His breath was unsteady. “Ni…night… night…mare…abo…gi…girls.”
“I’m calling a travel agent when they open. I’ll try to get us a flight for today or tomorrow. We’re going, Dad. I’m not going to put it off,” she assured him.
He nodded repeatedly, his gaze remaining on the floor. “You…go…”
“What do you mean?”
He looked up. “It…be…faster. She…needs…you. Am…Amelia.”
“Were you having a nightmare about her?”
He nodded again. “Dan…danger. She…needs…you.”
A week ago, Kim would have stood there and argued with her father that dreams weren’t real and that he was overreacting to a bad night.
Today, she didn’t. She understood. She felt it.
“Okay.” She thought a moment. “I’ll call someone from church to come and look in on you. I’m just going to get dressed, throw some things in a bag, and drive to airport. I hear people can get on flights standby. I think that would be the fastest. But are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Kim…go,” he ordered. “You…n…need her…too.”
She did need her, Kim thought as she looked at her father. They needed each other.
CHAPTER 55
Waterbury Long-Term Care Facility
Connecticut
The ambulance and the police car to serve as escort were ready. Gaylord Hospital was prepared for Amelia. Sid had arranged for Desmond and Nat to move his car to Wallingford later today. This way, he could travel in the ambulance with Amelia. The two neurologists were taking care of the transfer of equipment, as well.
Amelia’s room was bustling with staff. Despite the short notice, Jennifer had managed to throw a going-away party for her patient. Before this morning,
Sid thought Amelia’s eyes were brown. Today, there seemed to be a greenish tinge to them. As he looked at her, he suspected a small amount of make up had been applied, as well.
Jennifer had dressed the young woman in a hunter green sweatshirt and sweatpants, and they’d also put a matching green headband on her. Amelia looked flat out pretty—still pale, but not like someone who’d been confined to her bed for six years.
They had raised the head of her bed higher than before. Amelia’s muscles were becoming stronger every day. She was holding her neck up for longer periods.
Balloons and banners hung from every corner. Sid watched Jennifer make a big production out of reading each of the signs. Some of them were really funny, and he’d seen Amelia smile.
He felt totally out of place in the midst of all these people who were anxious to see and talk to Amelia before she was taken away. She was responding to them. She seemed happy. Jennifer appeared to be serving as the mediator between Amelia and the others. Everyone was having a great time.
Sid hovered by the doorway. He couldn’t bring himself to let her out of his sight. The Waterbury police had been unsuccessful in finding the party responsible for the wrong prescription last night. As a result, they were providing a police escort for the ride to Wallingford, three towns over. Also, once at Gaylord, they’d worked it out with the Wallingford PD to keep an officer on duty outside of Amelia’s room for the first week or until there was some explanation as to who was responsible for the attempt on her life.
Sid knew that Attorney Viera had been making a lot of noise to ensure the police would come through with protection for Amelia. It had not been advertised publicly…but understood by all who were involved…that her safety was directly linked to information she’d revealed through the brain scans. This morning, after Mark left, Viera had called Sid, telling him that the technical information they’d printed yesterday had been passed on to the Dean of the Mechanical Engineering department at UCONN, who in turn was going to pull together some of the faculty of his college and someone from Yale in New Haven to go over the pages today. They were supposed to call him as soon as they knew what these documents were. Sid told the attorney the name of the facility Amelia had given them late last night. Viera was going to pass that information along, too.
At some point in time during this past weekend, Sid had crossed into new territory. He believed everything Amelia was telling them. He believed that her sister was communicating with her.
One of the nurses came into the room to remind Jennifer that the patient needed to be readied for the transfer. Sid was glad he wasn’t the one ending the party; there was a lot of moaning and groaning.
As everyone started filing out of the room, Sid made his way to where Jennifer was standing.
“When was the last time you slept?” she asked him.
He couldn’t remember. “I’m not tir
ed.”
“You’re a liar, Dr. Conway.” She smiled. “Are you going to stay with her on the trip over?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Good. But then you need to get some rest. This study of yours can wait a day or two, can’t it?”
The study. They had barely started this phase of it, and already there were so many aspects that they hadn’t planned for. Study goals could always be revised, he told himself. They were making groundbreaking discoveries in the field of neurological science.
The fact of the matter, though, was that professionally and personally he wanted to be nowhere else.
“Seriously, at some point you should go home and take a shower. A change of clothes would be nice, too.”
He looked down at the jeans he’d been wearing all weekend. “I’m not too bad. I changed my shirt. And I did take a shower last night...before all hell broke loose.”
He frowned, thinking over the events of last night. Actually, the water had barely touched him when he’d gotten a horrible feeling something was wrong. Sid didn’t know where the feeling had come from, but he knew he had to get back to Amelia’s room. He knew she’d needed him.
Perhaps it was a terrible thing in a doctor—especially in one who was at the very beginning of his career—to go with gut feelings over scientific data. Maybe it was, but when it came to her, he found he was no longer waiting for the objective results of blind studies. When it came to Amelia, gut feelings seemed to work just fine.
Sid was certain Mark wouldn’t have allowed anyone to inject anything into Amelia until he got back. But the prospect of what could have happened was terrifying.
“You do know that night nurse is innocent,” Jennifer said, reading his expression. “She’d never do anything to hurt any one of the patients. Especially Amelia.”
Sid looked at her. “I know. The woman was very upset, and I might have leaned on her more than I should have. But I was upset, and they almost got to Amelia. Whoever is behind this went through a lot of planning. That woman just happened to be the one working at the time.”
