Clowns and Cowboys (A Miranda and Parker Mystery Book 3) (28 page)

Parker laughed just the way Miranda had at the woman’s hollow claims. “You’re not a research lab. You’re a slaughterhouse run by lunatics.”

“We do important work. Some of the most important work in our field. We’re government funded.”

Miranda’s jaw dropped. “The government sanctions what you’re doing here?”

The doctor parted with a thin, condescending smile. “What the government doesn’t know won’t hurt them. Our grant writers are very talented. Besides once we have solid success, they’ll be throwing funds at us, begging us to supply their armies.”

What did she just say?

The nurse, who must have been Yuri’s mother, was crying hysterically. “What are you going to do? What is going to happen to us?”

Good question.

Miranda bent down and picked up her gun. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. We’re going to call the police. We’re going to show them what you have down here. The lab with the Petri dishes, the operating room for organ harvesting, the cremation chamber.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. We’re a highly respected research facility. Our work here is profound.”

“Profoundly disgusting. Profoundly illegal,” Parker said.

Miranda couldn’t resist waving her weapon at this arrogant excuse for a scientist. “You’re going down, doctor. All of you.”

She still wasn’t convinced. “You don’t know who you’re going up against. Our legal staff will destroy you.”

“I don’t think so.”

They had won. It was over. Miranda reached into her pocket for her phone to call Underwood. The sooner this bitch and her staff were arrested and they got those kids out of here, the better.

But just as her fingers touched her cell she heard the doors sweep open once more.

“Drop your weapons,” boomed the big, familiar voice.

Miranda spun around to see the big man in the black UBT shirt with his vest, jeans and cowboy boots. His curly gray hair was disheveled and the nostrils of his wide crooked nose were flared like a charging rhino.

He stood there brandishing a big, black pump-action shotgun. It looked like a Mossberg.

So here was little brother to the rescue. She wished she could have seen through this game earlier.

“I said drop it!” he boomed again.

Far cry from, “the most exciting, the most titillating entertainment experience of your life.”

Though she was seething inside Miranda opened her hand and let her gun drop. Beside her she heard Parker’s weapon hit the floor and her heart sank.

“Turn around. Put your hands on that wall.”

She did as he said. Raised her arms, moved to the nearby wall, pressed her hands on it over her head. She shot Parker a quick look.

His face told her, “Keep your head.”

How? she wondered.

“You too, Cannonball.”

From the corner of her eye, Miranda watched Yuri raise his big hands and move to the other side of Parker. She also saw the wicked gleam in big sister’s eye.

“That’s right, Paxton. Now you’re going to shoot them one by one.”

Mommy has to tell you what to do, doesn’t she? Can’t think for yourself, can you, Paxton?

The nurse began to shriek. “Do not kill my boy, Dr. Tenbrook. You created him. You saved him.”

“Shut up!” The circus owner shouted and the nurse forced herself to muffle her sobs.

Miranda dared to peek over her shoulder again and saw Tenbrook the circus owner glaring at Tenbrook the doctor.

“Why me?” He said to her.

The doctor frowned. “What do you mean, Paxton?”

“Why do I have to do the killing?”

Do we have some sibling rivalry here? Miranda risked a quick glimpse at Parker.

He saw it, too.

Dr. Tenbrook blinked at her brother as if astonished. “It’s our agreement, Paxton. Your payment for our generosity.”

His thick lip curled. “You never cared about UBT or what I wanted to do with it, did you?”

“Of…of course I cared.”

“Lies. It was all lies. You only did it for yourself. You used me, Gloria.”

Right on. If he could see through her shenanigans and mind games, maybe there was a chance they’d get out of this alive.

“Paxton, we have to stay focused on the task at hand.”

“To hell with your tasks. First you send me cyanide pills so I can take care of the clown who told me he was going to the media about UBT and whatever it is you’re doing here.”

She knew it, Miranda thought. Tenbrook killed Tupper Magnuson to shut him up. Good time to play dumb. “You killed Tupper?” she dared to ask over her shoulder, as if she were totally astonished. “How?”

The pride beaming on Tenbrook’s face was just was she was looking for. “I went over to his trailer with a bottle of wine and offered him a glass. I said it was a toast to reconcile our differences. That was supposed to be the end of it. But then you two detectives showed up. The police thought it was suicide, but you had to keep digging and asking questions.”

He raised his shotgun and Miranda’s heart began to clamor. The guy was almost as crazy as his sister. Set him off and this scene could turn into the Saint Valentine’s Day massacre.

“You should have taken care of them then,” Dr. Tenbrook hissed.

“I had to cover my ass since you wouldn’t do it,” he yelled at her. “I had to use my backup plan.”

The doctor’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s right. I thought ahead. I planted the bottle in Harvey Hackett’s rose bushes so it would be discovered. That was why I used the brand he drank. It almost worked. But I didn’t know Harvey’s brother was a top defense lawyer. He was going to go free, and the police and the detectives were going to figure out everything. So I had to make it look like he committed suicide. The damn drunkard wouldn’t take a glass from me. I had to force a mouthful down his ungrateful throat.”

A full confession. Good for Harvey for seeing through Tenbrook’s lie and trying to fight him off.

Miranda hoped the recorder in her pocket was still going. And that the police would find it if they all ended up a bloody heap on the shiny floor.

There was a long pause. The scientist was recalibrating. She took a step toward her brother and her voice was serene and calm when she spoke. “We’ve always helped each other, haven’t we, Paxton?”

She seemed to have a hypnotic effect on him. Miranda could see he was falling back under her spell.

“Keep your head, Paxton.” Parker said calmly, sounding like a therapist treating a volatile patient.

Dr. Tenbrook ignored him. “We have one more task to accomplish.”

“What task?” Paxton asked warily.

“Where’s the girl?”

The circus owner groaned in frustration. “Dammit, Gloria. I don’t know.”

“She’s out there Paxton. She’ll destroy us if we don’t find her.”

Yuri let out an agonized laugh. “Are you talking about Layla? She is far away and safe from you.”

Miranda winced. The cannonball was a loose cannon. She wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Especially when she saw the doctor’s red lips twist into a grotesque smile.

“Make them tell us, Paxton. Make them tell us where she is. Shoot one of them.”

This time he didn’t argue. He wanted Layla as much as his sister. The performer knew what he’d done to Tupper.

“You.” He wagged his gun at Miranda. “Turn around.”

She did as he said, keeping her hands in the air.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” She tried to sound convincing, though the tremor in her voice was real. Not that that would buy them much. It didn’t.

“You like this detective, Yuri?”

“Do not hurt her, Mr. Tenbrook,” the giant whimpered, sounding like one of the kids in the ward.

“If you don’t tell me where Layla is, I’m going to shoot her.”

“No, Mr. Tenbrook.” Yuri began to cry. He’d break any minute.

She took a step in Paxton’s direction. Just a step. If she could just get to that Mossberg.

He saw her move and aimed the gun at her chest. “I’m going to do it now, Yuri. One, two…”

Parker turned around, making Miranda’s heart constrict with pain. “I’ll show you where she is, Tenbrook,” he said.

Tenbrook’s lip twitched. “Show me?”

“I’ll take you there.”

The doctor began to pace back and forth, infuriated at her sudden loss of control. “We’re not going anywhere. We’ll shoot you one by one, if we have to. You’ll all end up dead.”

“We can’t do that, Gloria,” Paxton said.

Was he starting to grow a conscious? Or lose his nerve?

“Of course we can,” the doctor told him. “We can dispose of the bodies. No one will know.”

In the incinerator in the back.

Miranda risked another step toward the circus owner. “Like you dispose of the little kids who don’t meet your criteria?”

“What?” Paxton’s face twisted with genuine surprise.

Miranda raised a brow. “You don’t know what big sis is doing here?”

“She’s a scientist. She does important experiments.” He glared at her. “What is she talking about, Gloria?”

From the corner of her eye, Miranda watched Parker take a cautious step toward the circus owner while he was distracted. It made her nervous but she kept her focus on the doctor.

“She doesn’t understand, Paxton.”

“What is she talking about?” he screeched it this time, demanding an explanation.

The doctor drew in a breath, raised her hands as if that would calm him. “Imagine a world populated with geniuses. People five times as intelligent as anyone now living, five times as strong, with astounding physical dexterity and vibrant health. Think of it, Paxton. People like that could end war, poverty, disease. Every problem that plagues mankind. It’s a future almost beyond our comprehension.”

“Pretty ironic what you have to do to get there,” Miranda muttered.

Paxton pivoted to her, swaying to one side. The side Parker was closing in on. “What do they have to do?”

Might as well spill it all. It was the only chance of breaking the spell his sister had over him.

“They have to manufacture kids in Petri dishes in that lab over there.” She pointed to the room at the side. “But the experiments don’t work. Layla and Yuri and Dashia were the lucky ones. Most of them end up with horrible defects.” She gestured the other way. “Back there are about two dozen kids waiting to be put to sleep because they just didn’t make the cut.”

Tenbrook’s eyes began to glaze over with disbelief. “To…sleep?”

Miranda pressed on as Parker inched closer. “Put to sleep before their organs get harvested and the rest of them goes into the incinerator.” She watched Paxton’s ruddy face turn pale. “It’s right back there. Wanna see it?”

“What?” His glazed eyes went from his sister to Miranda and back again. “I didn’t know. I swear to God, I didn’t know.”

The doctor hands fisted at her side. Her face turned as red as her dress. “Paxton, you’re making too much of this. This woman doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I’ll wager she barely finished high school. She can’t understand our work.”

“Your work?” He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. “What exactly is your work? Was this what Tupper Magnuson knew? You’re killing kids? No wonder you didn’t care about what I had to do to him or to Harvey. No wonder you don’t care if I kill these detectives. When does it stop, Gloria? When?”

“It can’t stop, Paxton. Not until we prove what we’re doing. We’re helping mankind. We’re about to produce a strain of the human race far superior to any before it.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy, am I? I’ll show you crazy.” She began to crouch down. “If you won’t do as I say, I’ll do it myself.” She reached for the pearl handled pistol Miranda had left on the floor.

“You,” Paxton boomed in agony. “This is all because of you!”

The next few minutes seemed to pass in slow motion.

Miranda saw something flash beside her. And Parker going for Paxton. She crouched and lunged for the doctor.

But she was too late.

“Look out,” someone screamed. Maybe the nurse. It sounded like she was underwater.

A loud white blast, a spray of bullets, rang in her ears like a sonic boom. She felt pain ripple through her body. For a moment she couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything. Then she heard a muffled sound. Like crying.

Her head buzzing, she raised herself on her hands and looked around.

She was on the floor. Her fingers were bloody. She craned her neck and saw Parker on the floor on top of Tenbrook, the Mossberg at his side, staring across the room in horror.

She turned back. Beside her on the floor in a pool of blood lay Tenbrook’s sister, a slug through her forehead. Beyond them Yuri and his mother were holding each other, both of them sobbing in shock.

“You’re hurt.” Parker was trying to get to her.

She felt a throbbing. She looked down and saw the bullet had grazed her upper arm. Some of the blood on the floor was her own.

Miranda’s phone buzzed. Groggily she groped in her pocket with her bloody hand to answer it. The recorder was still running.

“Hello?” she said in a voice that didn’t sound like her own.

It was Underwood. “We’re at GenaPulse. In the lobby talking to a guard. We saw your car outside, Ms. Steele. What the hell’s going on here?”

She sat up, her head clearing, and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Have them take you to the basement,” she said. “There’s a mess to clean up here.”

Miranda stood in her bloody clothes on the front steps of GenaPulse with the piece of cloth Parker had torn off a bed sheet bound around her arm.

As she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the bright morning sun, the first thing she saw was a hoard of reporters.

They swarmed around her and Parker and Underwood like flies. They wanted a story.

Under other circumstances Miranda would have told them all to go to hell and walked off. But this time she took the opportunity to tell them about the children she’d found inside the facility. The ones who now were being put into ambulances and taken to nearby hospitals for treatment.

She described some of the conditions she’d seen, her voice quivering as she watched the expressions on the reporters’ faces turn grim.