by Steve Hadden
She heard the shower stop, and a few minutes later, Harrison walked up behind her and kissed her neck. She turned, wrapped her arms around his hips, and returned the kiss.
“We should do that again,” he said. “Soon.”
“Absolutely,” she said.
They shared a laugh and she patted him on the chest.
“I have a plan,” Kayla said.
“Get to Washington?”
“Yes, but there’s more.” Kayla returned to packing. “I think I know how to slow down the FBI.”
“How’s that?”
She stopped packing and pulled out the burner. She pulled up the page with Sienna’s article and gave it to him.
“The reporter?”
“Yes. I think she’ll print the part of my story no one is seeing. Once the truth is out, it will make it impossible for them to think I did it. Then maybe they’ll go after the real killers.” She could see Harrison’s mind working through the implications.
“How will you reach her?”
“I’ll just call her. I’ll use this phone, then destroy it. We’ll leave here immediately, and even if they can find the cell tower, we’ll be long gone.”
“And you trust her.”
“Yes. I do. I’ve got a feeling about her.”
Harrison touched the screen a couple of times, then stopped and read. “She just tweeted an update. FBI says we were out to sea in the storm. Either trying for Mexico or Los Angeles area. Anyone having any info is supposed to contact the FBI.” He looked up at Kayla and handed the phone back. “Still trust her?”
Kayla took the phone. “I have to.”
Over the next couple of hours, they packed the car and reviewed possible routes. They concluded an inland route would be better than a coastal one and less expected. They’d be in Washington in less than twenty-four hours without stopping. Then they’d break into a vacation rental just above Snoqualmie Falls, outside of Issaquah. Kayla used to go up there in the summer as a kid, but no one ever rented it in the winter. From there, she’d have to figure out how to safely reach out to Emily. And do it in a way that would persuade Emily to help.
They ran through the newsfeeds. Neville Lewis was making the circuit talking about a possible uncontrolled release of a dangerous biologic agent—a “weapon,” he called it. He said Covington was dangerous, not only to anyone she came in contact with but also to the future of humankind. He didn’t say what she was working on, and there was no way he should know.
“It’s nothing new,” Kayla said. “He’s just recycling his old misinformation.”
“But he’s getting a following. He has lots of supporters from all walks of life.”
“But they don’t know what it can do.” Kayla swept her hand along the length of her body and struck a pose.
Harrison grinned and nodded. “You have a point. Are you ready to call?”
“Yes.” She picked up the burner and dialed the number. Her unease intensified and she tried to hide her fear. Her brain was sounding an alarm. This move could kill her. But her gut said something different—and from now on, this was all guts.
CHAPTER 36
Kayla knew this call could kill them both. But the risk was worth it. Sienna Fuller had printed the truth. It was incomplete and left Kayla in the crosshairs of the authorities. But equipped with the entire truth, the reporter just might set her free.
Holding the burner phone to her ear, Kayla stood still in the bright teal kitchen and eyed Harrison. She tapped her foot between each ring as anticipation ricocheted through her body and she cycled between confidence and paranoia. It was just after 10 a.m. Saturday and she wondered if anyone at the paper would answer, so she’d called the breaking-news line to improve her chances.
“Newsroom,” a young woman said.
“I need to speak with Sienna Fuller, please.”
There was a short pause. “Can I tell her what this is about?”
“It’s about a story she’s reporting. I have critical information that she has to have.”
“Can I tell her who’s calling?”
“You can tell her it’s her best source for the truth.”
Another pause. “Okay. Please hold.”
“Fuller.”
The voice sounded worn out for someone Kayla guessed was in her late twenties. She glanced at Harrison and asked for his support with her eyes. He nodded.
“Miss Fuller? This is Kayla Covington.”
“Kayla Covington, the fugitive molecular biologist?”
Her tone sounded sarcastic.
“I didn’t kill those people,” Kayla said.
“Ms. Covington, I’m sure you understand that we are getting lots of calls here. Many of them aren’t from reliable sources that we can verify. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions before you get started?” Fuller spoke in an apathetic tone.
“We don’t have much time. I don’t want this call traced.”
“It’s not being traced. At which hospital did you give birth to your son?”
Kayla pictured her son the day he was born but beat back the sorrow and loss trying to choke off her words. “Swedish in Issaquah.”
Kayla heard a chair squeak and pages turning and imagined the reporter snapping to attention at her desk.
“And what is your father’s nickname for you?” This time her tone was excited and engaged.
Kayla relaxed a bit, sensing that Sienna believed her. “K.C.”
“Can I call you Kayla?”
“Yes.”
“Call me Sienna. So you survived on the water last night?”
Kayla thought about Sergio. “I did.” Her voice wobbled, but she shoved away the demons of that night with a cleansing breath. “But I’m not telling you anything about my location. And you’re running out of time.”
“Sorry. Why are you calling now?”
“To set the record straight. I didn’t murder my team at the lab or my secretary. The FBI has it wrong.”
“Okay. I want to believe you. Do you have evidence that someone else did?”
Kayla was making headway. Her hope rose, and she took another deep breath before continuing. “Yes. There’s an assassin, and it was her and her team who did it. They’ve been trying to kill me. They blew up my lab, and they blew up the boat shop.”
“Did you say her?”
“Yes.”
“Let me be sure I have this. A female assassin murdered your team?”
“And I think they took all the data about what I was working on.”
“And that was what, exactly?”
Kayla hesitated. She was about to cross a threshold that she couldn’t come back from. But the nondisclosure agreement and penalties the government would impose meant nothing to her now. She needed to have the public on her side. “It’s a gene-editing treatment that reverses the effects of aging. It’s derived from the genome of a jellyfish called Turritopsis dohrnii—the only immortal animal on Earth. It will cure many of the diseases of aging and open the door to a flood of other cures.”
There was a thick silence on the other end of the phone, then a cascade of keystrokes.
“In humans?”
“Yes.”
“Is it dangerous? To generations, like I’ve been told?”
“Yes. Just like household bleach is dangerous if misused. But the efficacy and safety of our process has been verified by our trials so far.”
“Human trials?”
Kayla caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window. “That’s what we were preparing to conduct before we were attacked.”
Sienna remained quiet, but Kayla heard her frantically typing the story Kayla hoped would save her life. The keyboard went silent.
“We need to meet.”
Kayla sent a panicked look Harrison’s way. “That can’t happen.”
“Yes. It can. It has to, Kayla. I need to lay eyes on you and have you tell me everything. That’s the only way I can print something this explosive. You had some personal
information, but anyone could get that if they worked hard enough. I did. I need to verify it’s you. The only way I’ll do that is to meet.”
“There is no way I’d meet with you.”
Harrison was shaking his head. “Hang up.”
“Who was that? Is Mr. Clarke with you?”
Kayla sneered at Harrison. “It’s no one.”
“Kayla. Listen to me. I have a place. No one will know about it. It’s isolated and safe. I’ve used it before.”
Kayla weighed risking capture against getting Sienna’s help. Kayla was sure the reporter would print something, but there was so much more to Kayla’s story and her technology that had to get out.
She’d already been on the phone for three minutes and counting. The car was packed and she and Harrison had to leave immediately. She thought about the FBI. She remembered the deadly look in the assassin’s eyes at Harrison’s. With the resources Sienna had she might be able to expose whoever was behind this and get the treatments back. Kayla only had a few days left before the process went too far and her desperation shoved her past the warnings echoing in her head. She looked back at Harrison. It was his life, too. He nodded.
“Where and when?”
CHAPTER 37
Sienna knew any explanation she came up with wouldn’t satisfy Todd. She could see his office from her stand-up desk they’d provided as part of the ergonomic remodel of the newsroom. Each reporter had a regular desk, monitor and keyboard, along with the stand-up. In her case, they’d stuffed her in the back corner of the floor, farthest from the exit. She shared the space with a thick support column that blocked most of her view from the north-facing windows. But today it provided the concealment she needed to talk with Covington unimpeded and undetected. Had Todd overheard her conversation with Covington, she was sure he would have sent Rebecca. She was back—and livid.
Peering over the mustard-colored partitions that separated the rows of desks, she watched Rebecca and Todd plot her demise. He’d pull her off the story and force her to turn her sources over to Rebecca, or at least take her to the interview, to keep his star reporter happy. The Saturday newsroom staff ran at seventy percent of normal unless some breaking story dictated otherwise. Reporters really did have lives outside the paper.
That thought reminded her that Clint was waiting with his parents. She grabbed her backpack and moved to the end of her row of reporters’ desks and strolled toward the glass doors. She ignored the corner office, hoping not to draw attention to herself. She had to get out and get to the meeting with Covington six hours away.
“Fuller,” Todd said from his office. He marched out with Rebecca tailing him.
“Gotta go, Todd.” She waved, didn’t stop, and pushed the glass door to the elevators open. “I’ll be back.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
She stopped, still holding the door open. “What’s up, Todd?”
“You can’t leave.”
Sienna let the door go and squared up to face Todd. She could see Rebecca’s mug smiling over his shoulder. “Why not?”
“I need your next piece. We need to stay ahead of this. We have the lead on this story. Even the managing partner of the hedge fund who owns us called me for the first time. Said we’re doing great enhancing the visibility of the paper. The investors are loving it.”
“Don’t know what to tell you. I gotta go.”
Todd put his hands on his hips. “Where?”
“To talk to a source?”
“Who?”
“It’s a confidential source. I promised not to tell anyone,” Sienna said.
“Don’t you trust us?” Rebecca asked.
Sienna leaned around Todd and eyed the haughty reporter. “Rebecca. This is my story. My source. I promised no one would know.”
Todd pointed his bony finger at Sienna. “If you leave it won’t be yours. I’ll give it back to Rebecca, where it belongs.”
Sienna stepped closer, into his personal space. She could smell his junior high cologne. “You know what, Todd? It’s been my story from the beginning. And I’ve been slaying it. I’ve beaten every news outlet in the country and built fifty times more followers than the any reporter here. You can explain to your managing partner why you took me off the story. That is if you can pull your lips off his ass long enough to talk. I’m going. And the source I have will blow this thing wide open.”
She started out the doors, stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “And by the way, Rebecca, you stick your nose in my story again, you’ll need even more sick days to fix it.” She glared back at Todd. “I’ll send you my next piece.” She turned, waved her hand over her head, and walked to the door. “Keep it one hundred, you two!”
Sienna threw the door open against its stop and stormed to the elevators. She hit the button and a car immediately opened. She didn’t look back as the doors closed behind her.
A few minutes later, she was out of the building and in her Subaru driving north to her apartment near San Diego State, fifteen minutes away. She stopped at home, packed and asked Mrs. Crane next door to take care of Woodward and Bernstein. Then she left for Clint’s place. She’d texted earlier and promised to come by and meet his parents and apologize for her schedule. His parents were wealthy due to his father’s success in commercial real estate. They had a house in Newport Beach. Clint had followed in his father’s footsteps, using his father’s contacts to open doors and his money to jump-start his career.
Clint was good to her. At least that’s what she told herself. But her job was becoming a sticking point. Clint said he wanted a partner in life. For Sienna, that meant being available to attend parties and business dinners with him. She’d done well and only missed a couple in two years. But this week she’d missed them all, including her introduction to his parents.
Sienna made it back to La Jolla and Clint’s luxury apartment. She pulled to the gate and used the call box. He let her in without saying a word. She parked and checked her look in the mirror. She was as disappointed as Clint would be. But there was no time for makeup and a clothing change. Her Vici Dolls sweater would have to do. She took the elevator to the penthouse apartment. After taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.
The door opened, and Clint’s face soured. “What’s going on?”
She entered and he closed the door behind her. “I’m sorry. This story has exploded.” She turned away and saw his parents standing at the edge of the sofa in the living room. The Pacific Ocean gleamed in the background. She stepped quickly to them and shook their hands.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Bowers. I’m so sorry. Like I said to Clint, this story is huge and it’s my first big break.”
His father spoke first. “You’re a busy young lady.”
Then his mother smiled and stroked Sienna’s shoulder. “We understand, Sienna. We’re just glad you’re here with us now. Clint’s told us so much about you. We’re happy to have the rest of the day with you.”
Sienna turned and sent daggers in Clint’s direction. “You didn’t tell them?”
Clint crossed his arms and scowled.
“Tell us what, Clint?” his mother asked.
Sienna spun back to his parents. “This story is still growing. I have to do a very important interview and won’t be able to spend the day with you. I’m on my way there now. I’m so sorry.”
Sienna could see the air come out of the room. Clint’s father scowled, just like his son, and his mother couldn’t figure out where to settle her gaze. She looked confused.
“That’s just great,” Clint said. “You couldn’t pull away for just a few hours to get to know my parents.” The disgust in his voice surprised Sienna. Then her disappointment morphed into an anger, one she’d felt several times before. It was a harbinger of the end. But as her emotions bottomed out, she knew she deserved better. She wouldn’t tolerate his shaming.
Heat flushed her cheeks as her muscles tensed and the remorse in her posture disappeared. She eyed Clint for effe
ct, then pulled her shoulders back and looked his parents in their eyes. “It was so nice of you to take this time for me. I’m sorry the story took me away. Please accept my deepest apology.” She pivoted and walked past Clint. “I expected more from you.”
She opened the door and crisply shut it, then patted herself on the back on the way down to her car. At her car door, her phone pinged, and she saw the text from Clint. She put it back in her pocket. She’d already decided to ghost him. Once inside, she set Google Maps for the cabin in Alta Sierra and thought about all the times she’d spent there with her mother and father. The rain was subsiding, but there was snow in the southern Sierras. In six and a half hours, she’d be face-to-face with an alleged killer in her family’s special place. And if Covington wasn’t a killer, there was one who might be coming for them both.
CHAPTER 38
Artemis knew she’d have to make a choice. From the shop’s office window, she watched Forrest direct the team as they decommissioned the facility they’d called home for the past six months. Every wire, router, printer and computer had been loaded into the two ambulances at the front of the shop. Two operators were scrubbing every surface that could capture a fingerprint or hair. The sterile odor filled her nose. The makeshift armory along the back wall of the shop had been emptied and filled with automotive parts.
Despite the argument she’d had with Forrest yesterday, they’d spent another night together. Their thick bodies barely fit on the AeroBed tucked behind the screen in the far corner of the shop. Any other man would be dead. But Forrest was the only person she’d ever let in. He knew it all: from her life in a Texas border town to her escape from her father into the Navy and her acceptance into BUD/S training. While she’d never felt the emotion before, she imagined this was how love was supposed to feel.
