Dead Aim (11 page)

"Anything that strikes at the heart is always the exception to the rules we make for ourselves. Remember how you felt in that moment?"

"Every day. Every minute." She took the final photograph and turned away. "I'm finished. You can package the sketches to give to your friend."

"Does that mean you're resigned to letting me help you get these assholes?"

"It appears you've already gotten one of them."

"That's an evasion."

She met his gaze. "I'm not resigned to anything. I don't trust you. You told me I'd find a use for you and I did. If you had let me go, Leopold could have arranged for me to have a session with a police artist. I don't owe you anything."

"I didn't say you did. I'm the one who has a debt to pay off." He shrugged. "And it makes me uncomfortable. The sooner I get rid of it, the better."

"Take me back to Denver and we'll call it even. I don't want your help and I certainly don't want your company."

"Do you suppose you can put up with it while I check that wound? You can't do it yourself yet."

She opened her mouth to tell him no and then closed it. She sat down in the chair and opened his shirt that she wore as a pajama top. "Why not? You're responsible for it."

"That's what I like, a heart full of forgiveness." He unwound the bandage and lifted the pad. "The doctor did a good job. Very neat stitches. Couldn't have done better myself."

"You're a doctor as well as an artist?" she asked mockingly. "Amazing."

"Don't be ugly. I'm a man of many talents. I wouldn't have liked the job of extracting the splinters and cleaning out this wound, but I've had enough battlefield experience to sew you up."

She wished she hadn't let him touch her. Her flesh was tingling beneath his fingers. Not as it had in the stairwell at the hotel. There was no comfort, no security this time. It was . . . sensual . . . disturbing.

He must have felt the tension, because his gaze shifted to her face. His hands became still for an instant before he put a clean pad on the wound. "Looks like it's healing pretty well now." He wrapped the bandage over her shoulder. "Be sure you keep taking those antibiotics and pain pills."

"Of course. I'm not a masochist." She buttoned up the shirt. "I'm going to get well as quickly as I can."

"So that you can avenge yourself on me as well as the bad guys?"

"It's hard to distinguish between you." She moved toward the bedroom. "I'm going to take another nap. Wake me when Galen gets here."

"I will. I wouldn't cheat you of the opportunity to meet him. He's truly an original."

And so was Judd Morgan, she thought as she closed the door. Hard as a diamond and just as brilliant, every facet shimmering with power and deception.

Deception. Yes, that had been the one constant since she first saw Morgan in that stairwell. He was an enigma. She had no idea which move he'd make next.

Or why.

She walked across the room and crawled back into bed. She'd be glad when she regained more strength. She'd been on her feet for less than thirty minutes and she was disgustingly weak and shaky. Maybe it was the pills. . . .

The pills?

No, she didn't think Morgan was keeping her doped up for any reason other than pain. If he'd wanted to keep her sedated, he could have done it when he brought her here from the hotel. Not that she could be sure. Well, all she could do was be patient until she was better and meanwhile take whatever help he offered. Let him be as mysterious as the Sphinx for all she cared. It didn't matter how he tried to deceive her as long as she didn't trust him.

Deceive.

Suddenly her lids flicked open. "Oh, Jesus."

"What the hell is happening?" Galen asked harshly when Judd picked up the telephone. "My God, Logan has been on my ass since I landed. He said that if I don't go after you, he will. You were supposed to keep her safe."

"She is safe."

"The hell she is. Not bloody likely."

"What are you so upset about? I told you the wound wasn't serious."

"Wound?" Silence. "Do you have a television there in the lodge?"

"Yes."

"Then turn it on to CNN. I just picked up my rental car at Stapleton Airport. I'll call you again when I get on the road. I should be there within an hour." Galen hung up.

Not good. Galen didn't lose his cool without reason.

Judd moved across the room and clicked on the television set.

Morgan opened Alex's door. "I think you'd better come out here and see this."

She sat up in bed. "Is Galen here?"

"Not yet. He should be here any minute." He stepped aside. "But you'd better see this news report before he gets here."

"News report?" She swung her feet to the floor. "What's wrong?" Panic surged through her. "Has something happened to Sarah?"

"No. Something's happened to you. Come on."

She was already following him. "What news story? Have they found out that Logan paid you to snatch me?"

"I wish." He nodded at the TV. "Damn, another commercial."

"Screw the commercial. Tell me what's happening."

"It would be better if you saw it for yourself. You're not likely to believe me." He shrugged. "Okay, you're being hunted by the FBI for involvement in the possible sabotage of Arapahoe Dam."

She stared at him incredulously. "You've got to be kidding."

He shook his head. "Jurgens made an announcement this morning. There's an all-points bulletin out for you."

Her knees felt weak and she dropped down into a chair. "It doesn't make sense. I'm the one who's been telling everyone that the dam break had to be investigated."

"According to Jurgens, Homeland Security was already suspicious that the break was no accident. They didn't want to make their findings public until they had more proof of how the sabotage was done. They're almost sure that the job was done by Matanza, and you were in Guatemala, their home base, two years ago. The CIA believes that's when you were recruited. The FBI was about to make an announcement when Ken Nader was killed. You were under suspicion from the moment you were found at the site."

She shook her head dazedly. "I could have died in that landslide."

"And who would suspect a supposed victim of being involved in Nader's murder?"

"And what about that man who ran us off the road and shot Sarah?"

"But never touched you. It was entirely possible your accomplices arranged the attack to take any suspicion off you in Nader's death."

"This is crazy."

"Actually, it's pretty clever."

"I don't understand this. Why would the FBI--" She drew a deep breath. "I have to get in touch with them and straighten this out."

He shook his head. "Bad move. I'd bet you'd be dead within twenty-four hours."

"Bullshit. We're talking about a law-enforcement agency. They might put me in jail until I could get this mess cleared up, but no one's going to shoot me."

"No, you'd probably conveniently find a way to commit suicide in your cell--if you made it that far. It's more likely that you'd be killed when you were apprehended. Presto. No witness."

"You're saying you think the FBI is in collusion with those men at the dam." She lifted her shaking hand to her mouth. "And there was something about the CIA too. . . . I just don't believe it."

"It's not necessarily a conspiracy that goes deep to the bone of either organization. But I believe someone high up is pulling strings and furnishing scenarios to them that may fry your ass."

She shook her head. "I won't believe it. You're talking about Americans who work every day to protect our country."

"Ah, more heroes?"

"Yes," she said defiantly.

"Heroes can be manipulated. Evidence can be planted. I'd bet every news story for the next few days will show Alex Graham's guilt unfold with all the drama of a soap opera."

"My God, you're cynical."

"I've been there. I know how it works." He turned away. "I'll make coffee. You may need a jolt of caffeine after you finish watching CNN."

She needed more than caffeine at the end of those fifteen minutes. She felt ill. Christ, even the photos they'd turned over to the news agencies appeared incriminating. She recognized one taken at the airport in Guatemala City that looked like a mug shot.

"Not your most flattering photo." Morgan handed her a cup of coffee. "And it may be the one that's broadcast and rebroadcast."

"They still haven't come up with a reason why I'd do something like this."

"The Fox affiliate has a few theories. Bitterness over your father's death at WTC comes high on the list. Several people heard you say that the government should have paid attention to information they received before 9/11."

"Hell, yes."

"And friends and employers say you changed after your father's death."

"Didn't everyone change after 9/11?"

He nodded. "But we're talking about you."

"It's ridiculous." She moistened her lips. "And I'm a journalist. I know the people in my profession. They're not going to be duped. They're going to go after their own stories."

"But by that time you may be dead news. With the emphasis on
dead
. Will they work their asses off to discover how innocent you were then?"

"Maybe."

"And maybe not. Every day is a new story. You'd better concentrate on--" He was interrupted by a knock on the door. "It's about time." He moved to the door. "Galen?"

"You're damn right. Let me in."

Morgan unlocked the door and stepped aside. "It took you long enough."

"You're the one who decided to move up here to the back of beyond." His gaze went to Alex. "Hi, I'm Sean Galen."

Galen was a man in his late thirties with close-cut dark hair and dark eyes snapping with vitality. Even his movements were charged with electricity as he came into the room. "I hear this idiot managed to get you banged up. How are you?"

"I was better before I saw that I'm some sort of fugitive."

"Yeah, that came as a shock to us too." He took off his jacket and tossed it on a chair. "Logan is foaming at the mouth."

"Then let him direct some of that anger at Jurgens," Alex said. "If Logan has so much clout, tell him to get me out of this mess."

"Believe me, he's trying." He glanced at Alex's cup. "Tell me that's hot coffee?" He didn't wait for an answer but headed for the kitchenette. "Elena wasn't pleased that I had to take off. She said we both should be involved in having this baby. I'm not happy with you, Judd."

"Alex's wound is my fault; I plead innocent to everything else. Besides, Elena doesn't need you. She can handle anything. The baby will be a piece of cake to her."

Elena? Alex had a vague memory of Morgan mentioning the name. The woman who wanted to cut his throat . . . Smart woman. "And what's Logan doing to straighten this out?"

"He's called Jurgens and is in contact with Homeland Security. So far they're not responding very positively."

"They've got to realize it's a mistake."

Galen glanced at Morgan. "Mistake?"

"Setup."

"That's what I think. So that means the dam break probably had some sort of government connection."

Morgan nodded.

They were both ignoring her. "Or that it's a mistake that I can straighten out if I can just get someone to listen. Maybe some hotshot in the Bureau developed this theory about me and they're running with it."

They both just looked at her.

Her hands clenched into fists. "Dammit, this doesn't have to be a conspiracy."

"No, but it makes more sense than a bureaucratic blunder," Morgan said. "Have they turned loose all their dogs, Galen?"

Galen nodded. "According to Logan it's going to be a witch hunt and no one's listening to him."

"CIA's involved. How high up?"

"Danley broke the news on the recent discovery of Alex's connection with Matanza. You can't get much higher than that. Do you know Danley?"

Morgan shook his head. "My contact in the CIA was Al Leary. But Leary was ambitious as hell and I'd bet he's in Danley's pocket." He thought about it. "Which may not be bad for us. He might know--" He shook his head. "Later. We don't have time for this. As I told you when you called me back on the phone, we have to get Alex out of here. That doctor I had up here to treat her isn't about to take this kind of heat. He'll be on the line to the police the minute he sees a photo and makes the connection. Have you found a place for her and arranged for a helicopter?"

Galen nodded. "I called from the car on the way here."

"Wait a minute." Alex stood up. "You're not listening to me. What part of what I said didn't you understand? I'm not running away and hiding."

Galen and Morgan exchanged glances.

Morgan shrugged. "I was expecting this. Unfortunately, she's an idealist. She wants to believe the good guys are always good."