by L. C. Shaw
“I’m looking for something he stole from me.” He straightened up as quickly as he could. Damon’s black book had fallen open and a white paper was sticking out, with a list of names in Damon’s handwriting. Jeremy recognized some of them. Folding the paper, he put it in his pocket and looked at Jonas.
“Will you stay until the police come?” Jeremy asked.
Jonas nodded.
“What will you do now?”
“If you’ll have me, I’d like to work for your organization,” Jonas said.
“Of course. I couldn’t have done this without your help. Please feel free to stay in your quarters until we iron out the details of the estate.”
Jonas shook his head. “Thank you, sir, but I don’t want to spend another night here. I’ll go to my daughter’s for now.”
“Very well. Thank you so much for all your help. I’ll be in touch.”
Jeremy would have to come back later and look for the coins. He needed to leave before the police arrived, so he wouldn’t have to answer any questions about what he’d been doing there, or about the things he had taken.
As soon as he had walked into the business office and seen the white screens, he had realized that all the data had been deleted. When he’d opened Damon’s laptop, he saw that it had been wiped clean as well. It hadn’t occurred to him that his father could access anything without his laptop. He must have used his phone. He felt like a fool, but he was a scientist, not a technology expert. He would bring someone in to try to recover the data on the computers. There had to be some way to retrieve it. In the meantime, he had the list of names. It was a start.
“You haven’t won.” He spat the words out.
He opened the ornate wooden door and walked through it. He was finally free.
Chapter Seventy-Three
DAMON CROSSE WAS DEAD AND TAYLOR DIDN’T KNOW HOW to feel about it. On the one hand, she was thrilled that she and Jeremy were able to come out of hiding and that her child was now safe from Crosse’s reach. On the other hand, she wanted him to suffer in prison, to have to atone for all he’d done. And a part of her had hoped for a confrontation where she could vent all her rage at what he’d done to her life. His suicide had left her in a state of emotional limbo.
Malcolm’s funeral had been last week. Everyone had asked why her father wasn’t there, and she and Evelyn had made up a story about his being down with the flu. How could they explain that they had no idea where he’d gone after almost killing Taylor? The masquerade was the worst, everyone saying such wonderful things about Malcolm—what a great man he was—the asset he had been to Congress. She had wanted to scream: It was all a lie! She was still angry and didn’t want to forgive him, to feel any understanding about what he had done. It hurt much less to hate him. But then she let herself remember the good he had done. In the end, he had sacrificed his life for her and their child. Despite the lies, she believed that she had known him, a part of him, anyway—the part that hadn’t been completely corrupted by Crosse and his brainwashing. Finally she was able to come to terms with Malcolm’s betrayal and look upon his final actions as a sort of redemption.
Even with Taylor’s testimony, it had taken Jack’s lawyer almost a month to get him out. The kidnapping charges had been dropped right away, but that was in Maryland. The New Hampshire state’s attorney was not so easily convinced to drop the murder charges, even with Taylor corroborating that it was self-defense. A few years before, she’d met Senator Polk from New Hampshire through Malcolm, and so she had gone to him for help with Jack. She didn’t tell him the truth about Malcolm, of course. The story she and Jeremy had agreed on was that Malcolm had confessed to Taylor that he’d been harassed by Damon Crosse and had received death threats if he didn’t vote the way Crosse demanded, and that Malcolm had asked Jack to intervene if anything happened to him. In their version, Malcolm was a hero, refusing to be bullied and paying the ultimate price.
She was scheduled to appear on the Karen Printz show next week, and that would be the story she would tell the world. Malcolm had made the right choice in the end, and she saw no reason for her child to have to live with a legacy of shame. She had no idea whether Senator Polk was in Crosse’s pocket, too, but she had a feeling he would help her regardless, to make sure he came out looking clean.
She was waiting outside for Jack, thinking that the modern brick building looked more like a high school than a jail. She didn’t want to think about what the inside was like. His release papers had been signed yesterday, and she had overnighted him some clothes so he could feel like himself again. She checked her watch, and movement caught her eye. There he was. As he walked toward her, everything seemed to slow down, and she was afraid that if she blinked, he’d disappear.
“Hey, you.” He pulled her to him and covered her lips with his own.
She melted into him, feeling her body respond.
He cupped her face in his hands. “I love you so much it hurts. I am never letting you go.”
She smiled. “You just try to get away.”
She took his hand as they walked to the parking lot. “I have a surprise for you.” She couldn’t wait to see his reaction. She stopped in front of the car.
His eyes widened, and he smiled in delight when he saw the red Mustang.
“Sorry it can’t be the original. But it’s the same year and color,” Taylor said.
He ran his hand over the hood.
“She’s a beauty.”
“We can’t change the past, but I didn’t see any reason we couldn’t recapture the good memories.” She threw the keys to him. “Just do me a favor, and don’t get us killed. No faster than sixty-five.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s gonna happen.” He got behind the wheel. “Where to?”
“Back to the old neighborhood.”
“Put your seat belt on. It’s gonna be a long ride.”
Chapter Seventy-Four
BEEN A WHILE SINCE I’VE BEEN HERE,” JACK SAID AS HE pulled into her driveway. Looking at his childhood home, he was jarred by the bright red door. His family didn’t live there anymore, but in his mind’s eye, it was still exactly the same. It felt like eons ago since he’d lived there. For a minute, he pictured his eight-year-old self bounding from that front door over to the house of his best friend.
“Evelyn’s going to sell the house.” Taylor interrupted his thoughts as they headed toward the Parks home.
He looked at her, surprised. “Really? How do you feel about it?”
“I’m okay with it.” She shrugged. “Most of my memories are tainted now anyway.”
He hoped that didn’t include the ones he was in.
The door opened as they approached, and Evelyn welcomed them in. “Jeremy’s waiting in the kitchen.”
Jeremy stood and walked over to them. Jack held out his hand, but Jeremy was having none of that. He embraced him in a bear hug, then pulled back to look at him. “None the worse for the wear. Good to see you, Jack.”
“I’m tougher than I look,” he joked. Things could have been a lot worse, he thought.
“I brought Jack up to speed on the ride here. I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page before the interview,” Taylor said.
Jack already knew that Taylor was going to be interviewed live on Newsline this Saturday. Everyone had been clamoring for her story since she’d surfaced. A senator’s widow coming out of hiding after a supposed kidnapping made for big news.
He spoke up first. “Crosse is dead, and he left no will. So everything goes to Jeremy, right? The Institute, the pharmaceutical company, the works.”
“Yes,” Jeremy answered. “His death eliminates the worry about the genetic testing research being used for his purposes. Like I told you before, I’ve already been working with the Alpha Pharma CEO, Sinclair Devlin—the one who financed my facility. When I went to him with evidence of Crosse’s plan, he agreed to help me. He’ll stay on as CEO. I’ll bring Carl on as well.” He looked at Taylor. “I’ve of
fered to split all the assets with my sister, but . . .”
She put her hand up to stop him. “I don’t want any part of any of it. And I don’t want my child to know he or she is related to Damon Crosse. We’re going to go public with the fact that a Nazi founded the programs there. I was able to trace Friedrich to Operation Paperclip. Jeremy recognized a picture of him from Germany. His real name was Friedrich Dunst and he worked under Mengele. When they finally had the Nuremberg trials, no one could find Friedrich; he had managed to change his name from the alias the government provided. He was responsible for helping Mengele perform all kinds of horrible experiments. I won’t go into the atrocities. But when the details come out, they’re going to cast a long shadow over the work done at that institute.”
Evelyn gasped. “I remember Dunst. A cold, cold man.”
“When people find out, it’s going to have them looking into the programs Crosse ran there. Even the main institute and its legitimate programs will be under scrutiny. It will turn things upside down for a while. Phase two, where his secret work was done, is most likely already shut down. With him gone, the professors will be running scared. The legitimate programs will continue until the semester completes, I’m guessing,” Jeremy said.
“What about the DVDs, are you releasing them?” Jack asked.
“No,” Taylor answered. “Here’s the important part. We’re not going to talk about Crosse’s influence over power players. We’re going to make it seem like Malcolm was a one-off. Nothing about Brody Hamilton. Nothing about Malcolm being in the orphanage. Nothing about the orphanage at all. Since it’s been out of commission for the past twenty years, there’s little chance anyone will discover it, anyway. Jonas has already pulled the paper records and Jeremy has taken them to Carl’s.”
“All the electronic files were destroyed when Damon executed the system delete,” Jeremy added.
Evelyn cut in. “But if all you disclose is his training facility and nothing about how he’s strategically placed his own people in government and business, no one will look any further than the Institute. There won’t be an investigation.”
“We have no proof, Evelyn,” Jack replied. He and Taylor had discussed this on the way back to Maryland and been in agreement. “All that will do is make his people run scared, cover their tracks. Now that he’s dead, they’ll feel safe. He has nothing over them anymore. Then we can quietly begin to investigate the list of names Jeremy found in his office. And of course, we’ll begin looking into Brody Hamilton’s dealings. We’ll also try to trace where some of the orphans came from and see if we can find where they are now.”
“Don’t forget that we have Jonas, too. He’s overheard and seen plenty in all his years of service. He’ll work with us,” Jeremy said.
Evelyn nodded. “Okay. It just makes me sick that I enabled him all those years. I feel like I need to do something to make it right.”
“You have. You helped us. If Jeremy hadn’t confronted him, he would have kept going. He knew we had him, and he took the easy way out,” Taylor assured her. She exhaled. “It may not be right, but I’m glad he’s dead.”
Jack steered the conversation back on track. “So, nothing about Malcolm’s involvement. What about the letter he wrote to you?”
“I burned it.”
“Good.”
“The coins. They still haven’t turned up?” Jack asked.
Jeremy’s face darkened. “No. I don’t know what he did with them, but they’ve got to be hidden in his office somewhere. I’ve searched and searched. There must a hidden compartment I haven’t found yet. The only good news is that no one else there would know what they are.”
“Could he have hidden them in his body?” Taylor asked.
“If he did, they would have been found after the ashes cooled from the cremation. I hired someone to be there when they manually inspected the ashes. Nothing.”
“I guess that covers everything. We’re not mentioning the coins, either. Everyone’s on board, yes?”
Yeses all around. Jeremy thought of something else. “What about Parks? He’s still missing?”
“Yes,” Evelyn said. “He’s disappeared into thin air. The paper hasn’t heard anything either. He had money stashed everywhere. My bet is he’s on an island far away from here.”
“What are you going to tell Karen Printz if she asks?” Jack turned to Taylor.
“I’m going to tell her the truth: I don’t know where he is but I worry that it’s related to Crosse.”
“Looks like we’re ready.” He looked around the room. Normally it would have made him nervous to be involved in a plan this complex with three other people, but he knew it would be okay. He trusted Jeremy and Taylor with his life. And Evelyn, well, she had proved herself by helping them. Once they got this interview behind them, they could get on with the real work—figuring out who Damon Crosse’s puppets were and exposing them.
Chapter Seventy-Five
BRODY HAMILTON SAT IN HIS FAVORITE CHAIR, A PLUSH leather recliner, holding a glass of scotch in one hand while the other scooped up a handful of peanuts from the bowl perched on his lap. He loved being back in his Charleston home surrounded by all his comforts.
“Hand me that remote. Hurry up.” His wife gave him an annoyed look but placed the remote in his outstretched hand.
“What are you so anxious about?” she asked.
“The interview. It’s about to start. Sit down now if you want to watch, but hush up, you hear?”
His wife was an incessant chatterer and it drove him crazy. As his grandpappy would say, she could talk the hind legs off a donkey. He’d learned to ignore her over the years, but tonight, his nerves were raw and he had to stop himself from telling her to shut up. But of course, he didn’t. There were fifty million reasons not to—all in her name right down the street at First Fidelity. Besides, she was a good old girl at heart. She knew when she’d married him that he was a hard dog to keep on the porch and she didn’t mind. He could have his fun, long as he came home again when he was done.
She sat her ample behind down on the sofa and pulled a box of Oreos onto her lap. Just as the program started, she piped up.
“What a pretty thing. I didn’t know the senator’s wife was so young. She his second wife?”
“Quiet, Coralee! I can’t hear what she’s saying.”
She gave him a wounded look and stuffed another cookie in her mouth.
Karen Printz was talking now.
“Taylor, thank you for agreeing to come on tonight. I know you’re usually the one behind the camera.” She favored the audience with a smile and explained, “Taylor and I used to work together. She was my producer.” Here a tender look at Taylor. “Still miss working with her.” Taylor murmured a thank-you and looked duly humble.
“So, Taylor. The whole country believed that you had been kidnapped. Can you tell us what actually happened?”
“My husband, Senator Phillips, made a powerful enemy. He was approached by a man named Damon Crosse who tried to bribe him in exchange for certain votes.”
Printz was leaning in toward Taylor, shaking her head.
“When my husband refused, his life was threatened.”
“Do you know what he wanted him to vote on?”
Brody felt his stomach drop and tightened his hold on the remote, then pushed the volume up. What had the damn fool Phillips done? How much had Phillips revealed before they killed him? Brody had been on pins and needles ever since he’d read about Crosse’s suicide. He didn’t need the world to know about his connection to Crosse and Alpha Pharmaceuticals. Alpha had generously lined his pockets through the years. He hadn’t spent the last thirty years creating alliances and building his political career to have his own dirty laundry aired for the whole world to see.
“No. I don’t think it was a specific bill. He more or less wanted someone he could control. I’m assuming for business interests. Malcolm didn’t share the details with me; I guess he thought it was safer for me that way.
When the threats didn’t stop, he told me that if anything happened to him, I should trust Jack Logan.”
Here Printz’s expression turned mischievous.
“The same Jack Logan you had a relationship with for years?”
Taylor’s expression remained neutral. “That was a long time ago, Karen. Malcolm knew that Jack was an old family friend. And he trusted him to help us.”
Brody took a long swallow of his scotch and relaxed slightly. So far so good. Nothing about him. The interview went on, Taylor recounting the days in hiding, finding her half brother, and the incredible story about his mother being held hostage.
A look of horror came over Printz’s face. “Are you telling me that Damon Crosse imprisoned a young medical student and forcibly impregnated her?”
“Yes, Karen. That is Jeremy Crosse’s contention.”
Brody was flabbergasted. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.” His wife started to talk, but he put his hand up to silence her.
Maya Papakalos. She must have been part of the medical group during his training at the Institute. Crosse had kidnapped her? No wonder Jeremy hated Crosse and had defected. Now it was all making sense. He looked back at the television as the interview continued.
“An investigation has already begun. The FBI is also trying to determine if anyone was complicit in helping Crosse when he kidnapped and murdered Maya Papakalos,” Taylor said.
“Are there any suspects?” Printz asked.
Taylor folded her hands on her lap. “I’m afraid I can’t comment on that while it’s still an ongoing criminal investigation.”
“All right then, let’s talk about the origins of this institute,” Printz began.
Taylor took a sip from the glass of water on the table next to her, then spoke. “We believe that Crosse’s adoptive father, Fred Crosse, was actually Nazi scientist Friedrich Dunst.”
It was too much for Coralee. “Nazis! What the heck? Can you imagine? What in the world was going on at the place? I never heard of the programs there. You think that girl is touched in the head?”
