by Dale Mayer
She nodded at him. “That’s a good way to put it. It was a very bitter divorce, and we weren’t married very long either.”
“Why the divorce?”
“Because he didn’t have any intention of being faithful, and I had absolutely no intention of being unfaithful while I was married. When I realized that we had such different philosophies as to what a true relationship was, I wasn’t sticking around.”
“So you initiated the divorce?”
She nodded. “Yes, and after only six months.” She watched as he winced. She nodded. “Right. Six months and that’s it.”
“And he got nothing because the marriage was so short?” He nodded as if that made sense.
“He got nothing because of the prenuptial agreement I insisted he sign.” There was a moment of silence as both men stared at her. “And why would I not?” she said. “It was important to me that he have no access or no benefit from control of my research, and, in some countries, material that you work on and discuss with your partner and/or research during a marriage can be something that he can claim as a part owner. I wouldn’t allow that.”
“Smart,” he said. “There could be a tremendous amount of money involved in finding a cure for cancer.”
“I already have a lot of money. It’s a fallout of being a Mensa.”
At that, Griffin snorted. “Are you saying all Mensas are wealthy?”
“Of course not. But, as a Mensa, it helped me to get funding, other research grants, so that I could do my research, and that took money.”
“But you are working for Scion, correct? Getting paid? A company which you do not own?”
“Yes, absolutely,” she said. “I’m working out of Paris for Scion Labs.”
“Are you a shareholder?”
She glanced at Griffin and then slowly nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Did you have any issues with the board? Over your research?” Kerrick asked.
Before she had even answered Kerrick’s question, Griffin asked, “Is that how you got to do the research that you were looking to do?”
“Well, I would hope the board had no issues with my research, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they had an issue with me,” she said. “But I invested enough money in the company’s shares that they couldn’t argue about my research area, and I had a say in my own work.”
“And do you think that may have pushed Hinkleman into doing what he did?”
She frowned. “I never considered what my shareholder entrance into the company might have done to him. But it’s possible.” She shrugged. “I own a fair bit of the company.”
“A controlling interest?” Kerrick asked.
“Not half of the company, no,” she said with a shake of her head.
“And what if Hinkleman suddenly found out that you were one of the major shareholders? Would that make him hate you?”
“He hates me anyway,” she said. “He was all fire and brimstone when he was young, but none of his research panned out, so he’s jealous of anybody who’s on target and getting validated results.”
“Which you think you are?”
“Which I definitely am,” she said with a nod.
“Interesting,” he said. “But it all comes back to that company, Scion Labs, and to Hinkleman.”
“And potentially my ex. And potentially an enemy of my father too. Hinkleman said something about being paid from multiple sources. But I have no clue who that enemy of my father could be. Still, someone needs to warn him that he might have a viper close to home that he doesn’t know about.”
“Aah,” Kerrick said, settling back. “That then makes sense of something that Brandon overheard. Makes a lot of sense now.”
“What sense? Hinkleman just picks a victim, finds out how many people hate her and want her locked up, then he charges the people for kidnapping her?” she asked in outrage. “And how’s that something to do with your life? Or …” She sat back. “Did someone approach Hinkleman?”
“The questions are then, who chose you, why did they choose you, and how is it that Hinkleman got involved?”
“He was the boss at the prison,” she said, “so he’s got to be involved with other patients as well.”
“Is he a medical doctor?”
She looked at him in surprise. “I think he is. He was an MD first, and then I think he went into research because he didn’t have the right kind of bedside manner for patient care relationships.”
The two men stared at her, then slipped a covert glance to each other.
She wondered what that look was about but shrugged. “I just heard something about it.”
“Between you and Brandon, you guys hear a lot, don’t you?”
Brandon nodded, obviously listening but too busy eating still.
Amanda nodded toward him. “As Brandon said, he is a child. Nobody thinks he’s important,” she said. “In my case, I just put it down to being blonde and female. A lot of times men talk over us as if the conversation is just way too complicated for our fluffy empty brains.”
“Well, you can bet we won’t make that mistake,” Kerrick said drily.
She looked at him with a smile and said, “You’ve already saved our lives. I don’t even know how to begin to thank you.”
“No thanks are necessary,” he said. “But, if more people are being held there, like Brandon mentioned Cynthia and Peter, we wanted to make sure that we get everybody out. And …”
“Now that they know you two have escaped, the bad guys are already moving the rest of the prisoners,” Griffin said. “I videoed as much as I could. While I was there, I saw three ambulances leave with six people total, two in each emergency vehicle.”
Brandon perked up. “So that’s why you left your face blacked out?”
Griffin laughed and nodded.
“Patients leaving in the same condition as they arrived?” Kerrick asked. “Meaning, likely all drugged into unconsciousness?”
“Yes,” Griffin said. “You know that’s the easiest way.”
“They drugged us at night anyway,” Amanda said in a low tone.
“But they’ve got to have a second location already set up and ready for the patients,” Kerrick said, “particularly if they aren’t ambulatory.”
“Our guys are working on it,” Griffin told Amanda. Then he picked up his cup of coffee and took a long sip.
As far as Amanda was concerned, Kerrick and Griffin were no ordinary team. Why did she think these rescue teams would entail at least eight guys? Or at least four to handle contingencies? But she admitted that Kerrick and Griffin were not any ordinary men either. They each counted as two men at least. Even so, but for the two of them, she hadn’t seen anyone else helping out yet.
But that chat window was very interesting. She wasn’t the super IT person that she wanted to be, but she knew enough about computers to hide her tracks when she moved around her research material. And that chat window of Kerrick’s opened up into something very deep. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if it wasn’t some kind of black-ops or deep government covert operation link, superprivate, supershielded. She wanted to immediately get back into it and ask to get the information that she needed. Likely she’d get bumped out immediately.
“Well, surely somebody needs to pick up Hinkleman, while you search for others involved in kidnapping and that jail,” she said, “because that’s the one guy I can guarantee you was involved since I saw him in person at the jail.”
“There’s an alert out for him right now,” Griffin said. “And on several other people involved, based on Brandon’s descriptions and facial matches. We’re on it. We just have to keep low until we know that everybody involved has been picked up.”
“How long do we ‘have to keep low’?” Her gaze went from one to the other. And back again.
They both shrugged and said, “A day? Maybe two.”
She frowned and then realized she’d already spent a couple days as a prisoner, so how was a couple days being free, but with t
hem, any different? She nodded. “Just make sure you get all these guys. I don’t want to keep looking over my shoulder after this. And I surely don’t want them after Brandon.”
Brandon smiled a toothy grin her way, still chewing up the chicken in his mouth.
She patted his shoulder, then stood, looked at the beds, and asked, “How are we doing the sleeping arrangements?”
“The two beds here are for you and Brandon. One of us will sleep in the other room, while the other will be on watch here.”
She nodded, walked to the bed closest to the window, and said, “In that case, I’m heading for some shut-eye.”
Brandon decided he had enough food for now and said, “Me too,” as he crawled into the bed across from her.
She smiled sleepily at him, forgetting to make him take a real shower before going to bed.
Then the two of them crashed and immediately fell asleep.
Kerrick raised his head from the pillow to find it was six o’clock in the morning, and he was about to switch shifts with Griffin. He heard a sound from the adjoining motel room. As Griffin’s distinctive footsteps came his way, Kerrick hopped out of bed and walked into the bathroom. Quickly he used the facilities and scrubbed his face. Then he stepped out to see Griffin crawling into the other bed.
“All clear,” Griffin whispered.
Kerrick nodded and headed to the desk. He took his laptop and his phone with him to the adjoining room. As he moved into Amanda and Brandon’s room, Kerrick stopped to study the two sleeping people. He wasn’t sure how this op had grown from saving one to two people from the get-go, but no way would he have dumped a child in the street on his own.
Although this one might be perfectly capable of handling himself, it was also obvious that he had a ton of information that was beneficial to their op; plus they needed to keep him close for his own safety. Brandon could potentially help find his dad as well as saving the other people held against their will by Hinkleman and his crew.
But what surprised Kerrick was to find both Amanda and Brandon curled up in the same bed, her arms wrapped around the child. Kerrick frowned, wondering what had happened.
Just then she opened her eyes, looked at him, smiled, and whispered, “Nightmares. No matter what kind of superbrain he has, he’s still a child.”
Kerrick nodded in understanding and walked over to their table, then set up his equipment. After that, he went back to the little kitchenette, where he plugged in the kettle and made himself an instant coffee. He would be up now until the day was over and needed something to keep him going.
When he passed by them, he saw Amanda slip out of bed and move into the bathroom. He expected her to go back to sleep after that, so he sat down at the table with a notepad, collating the notes they had. He was still waiting on more information and even updates. So far, nothing had come in. At least not via his phone. He hoped, when he hooked up to the internet, more information would be downloaded to his email and that the chat window sat there, waiting to help him. Preferably with answers.
He opened up his email program and waited. He heard beeps, notifying him as various emails dropped into his program. He quickly surveyed them, picked the couple that were the most important, and read some history on the background of Hinkleman, with a note that he was still at large. And then on Amanda’s ex-husband. Thinking over things, he frowned, opened up the chat box, and typed, Have you picked up the ex-husband?
No.
Why?
No sign of him.
Crap.
Yes. We found the blue car in the bottom of the canal. And an older pickup.
He grinned. Good. Anyone in it?
You were right. Stanley and Tom were found dead inside, one in each. Jimmy has been picked up for questioning. We expect him to be arrested.
Good to know. Sounds like someone is cleaning up. Is her father safe? Did you inform him of her status and what she was told?
So far he’s safe. And, yes, he was brought up-to-date.
After that update, he added some reminders. I don’t have full research into the company that Hinkleman and Amanda were working for.
It’s in your email.
He returned to his email and looked. And there it was, hidden among all the rest. He brought it up and hunkered down to study the information. When Amanda came out of the bathroom, she walked over to the kitchenette and had a glass of water. She studied him, leaning against the counter.
He didn’t even bother looking up. “It’s still early. Just go back to bed.”
“What about you?”
“I’m on shift watch now,” he said. He flicked through the online pages, quickly scanning them. “I’m studying the company that you work for.”
“If you find anything juicy, let me know,” she said. She stifled a yawn, a movement that was both graceful and not, all at the same time. Kerrick found Amanda and Brandon to be fascinating with their massive brains, and yet, in some ways, both of them were so normal and even childlike in their innocence. She stumbled on her way back to bed, and he half stood, afraid she needed assistance, but she waved him off and said, “I’m just tired.”
She made it to Brandon’s bed, pulled back the covers gently so as to not disturb Brandon, slipped under them, softly laying her arm across Brandon’s chest, and crashed.
There was just something so disarming about seeing her like this. So far, she’d escaped her cell, then went on to save Brandon, almost escaping the building itself when he and Griffin had found them. It took a lot of guts for her to do what she did. It took a lot of courage to go back after Brandon too. He wondered often about the maternal instincts in women and whether they were all blessed with equal amounts or whether some were just so much more caring.
No doubt she had formed an attachment to the young boy and he with her, and maybe that was a good thing. They were two of a kind. Nothing quite like bonding in captivity. They were good for each other. They both appeared to be loners, each with a father potentially distant, and maybe they needed each other. Amanda had been married but had no children, at least according to her file. He looked over to ask her but realized she was out cold. So he went back to reading his research.
About an hour later Kerrick heard a whimper. He looked over to see Brandon tossing fitfully in bed, crying out words. They were unintelligible, but he was still disturbed. Kerrick frowned, not sure how to help a child like this. He could tell him that it was okay, that he was caught up a nightmare, but Kerrick didn’t want to wake him and scare him because that would be one of the worst things he could do. But, at the same time, how did you soothe a child like this?
As he watched, Amanda woke up, kicked off the covers, rolled over, slipping over to the far side, and cuddled up against Brandon. Kerrick could hear her voice as she rubbed the boy’s shoulder and arm, whispering, “Ssh, it’s okay, Brandon. We’re safe now.”
Almost immediately the child went quiet and went back to sleep.
Kerrick thought she was asleep too, but, as he continued to work on his laptop, she murmured, “What are you doing?”
“Making sure we get all the information we need,” he said.
“Why don’t you come lie down on my bed,” she said. “I can’t sleep while you’re working.”
He stopped and said, “I’m on duty.”
“You need sleep too,” she said.
“I’m fine.”
“Well, I’m not,” she said. “I can’t sleep while you’re doing that.”
He frowned.
She rolled over, slipped out of Brandon’s bed, crawled back onto her bed, and glared at him. “I’m not kidding.”
“What the hell?” he muttered under his breath. Then he looked at her. “Surely you don’t expect me to lie down and cuddle you, like you were doing with the child.”
She sat up, looked at him, and said, “Expect? No, but would it help me get back to sleep, yes.” And, with that, she flopped back down, pulled the covers over her shoulders, and stared at the wall.
She gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders, the movement almost imperceptible. But tucked up so close as they were, he could feel it.
He whispered against her head and hair, “Just sleep. It’ll all be better now.” He watched her eyes flutter closed and her breathing drop into a heavy and steady rhythm. The little heart-shaped scar on her cheek caught his eye. He found himself leaning over to kiss the spot ever-so-gently. Surprised, he sagged back and held her close. That had come out of nowhere. Or maybe not, … not since he’d first seen that image of her.
Overwhelmed, he lay close to her, letting the emotions flow through him, marveling at the strength of them. He’d been so afraid such feelings were lost to him with the death of his wife. But Amanda was a special woman, and he’d instinctively recognized how special she was to him …
He waited several more moments, wondering how this woman could appear so strong and so caring, and yet, at the same time, so vulnerable. He found himself not wanting to leave her, not wanting her to face the boogeyman alone, who would surely come and catch her while she was asleep.
Nightmares were like that. They were insidious dream-stealing gremlins that came into your world when you couldn’t protect yourself from them. They snuck into your subconscious and twisted everything into this nasty fog and then woke you up in a panic, fear sweating through your pores.
He gently stroked her arm, reaching around to lace her fingers with his. She shuffled slightly, moving back closer against him, spoon style, and he lay here knowing he needed to get up. But it was so comforting, even to him, to just lie here and hold her. And that was dangerous.
