Imposter (13 page)

He was now linked to the agency files on her case. He brought up the list of chemists who’d registered for Abernathy’s lecture.

“One-hundred-nine, including Richard Patterson and you,” Burke said. 

“That many.”  Eve nodded. “Then I’d better get started.”

* * *

Three hours later, they had researched all of the registrants.  Eve hadn’t expected Burke to help her, but he remained with her.  Nothing leaped off the screen screaming terrorist.  Eve’s shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment.  Really, though, what had she expected?

She now knew more about Allie and the other chemists than she wanted to and didn’t know how she would face them again now that she’d invaded their privacy and learned personal things about them she had no business knowing.  And all for nothing.  She was no closer to finding out who’d switched her insulin than when she’d started.

“Ugh!”  She flung herself back against the cushions of the sofa.

Burke eyed her.  “You’d be hell on a stake out.”

“I never went on stake outs. My work was confined to the forensics lab, which I’m sure you know.  I was hoping that my personal acquaintance with some of the chemists might give me an edge your people don’t have.  That something about one of them might strike me as out of place.”

“You gave it a shot.  We need a break.”

“No.  No.  We need to continue.  We need--”

“A break.”  Burke insisted.  “It’s dinner time. I’m starving and you must be too.”  He got to his feet, stretched then yawned.  “Come on let’s see what we can put together.”

The wary look Eve gave him provoked a laugh out of him.  “Don’t look so skeptical.  I’m not the greatest cook, but I proved earlier that I can put a meal together.  If you aren’t too fussy,” he added.

Eve got to her feet as well.  The dishes from their breakfast, the breakfast he prepared, still sat on the kitchen table.  She felt petty about not having cleaned up earlier and now began stacking plates then carrying them to the sink.  While she washed, Burke went to a pantry cupboard beside the fridge.  He withdrew a can of tomato sauce and a wrapped package of spaghetti.

He held up his fare.  “It’s plain but you won’t starve.”

Eve finished washing the last plate then placed it in the dish drainer on the counter.  “Doesn’t have to be plain.”

“ ‘Fraid so.  I keep only canned and dry goods here.  No fresh spices and since we’re laying low, I’d rather not leave here to get any.”

Eve dried her hands on a checkered dish towel.  “No need to go anywhere.  Not a grocery store anyway.  We have more than we’ll need right outside.”

At Burke’s frown, Eve smiled.  “Come with me.”

“Said the spider to the fly,” Burke murmured.

Eve laughed.  “Where do you keep your bowls?”

“Bottom right cupboard.”

Eve withdrew a large stainless steel mixing bowl then led the way to the door.  Outside, Burke fell into step beside her.  She breathed deeply of the fresh air.  If not for her situation, she would have enjoyed being at the cabin.  She liked the earthy and animal smells.  She liked being surrounded by the beauty of trees and wildlife that far outshone anything man could make in the city.

Eve followed a path into the trees.  Sunlight poked through the branches and dappled the ground on which they walked.  She set a slow pace, meandering around various patches of plant growth, bending over glorious outcroppings of lush green leaves and stems.  She came to a mushroom patch and stopped.

“Those are great in sauces.”  She pointed to the patch.

Burke shook his head slowly.  “Not a good idea.  Haven’t you heard? Mushrooms can be lethal.”

“Certainly, but not those.  I often blend herbs and spices to make the scents I use in cosmetics, so I know which are poisonous and which aren’t. Those,” she pointed again,  “aren’t.”

He still looked doubtful and she laughed.  “Don’t worry.  I know what I’m doing.” 

She stooped before the mushroom patch that covered several feet of ground and examined the crop.  She plucked several plump specimens and placed them in the bowl.  She shot to her feet. “Next.”

“Next?”

“Let’s see what else we can find.”  She walked on, leaving Burke to follow.  When he fell into step beside her again she looked up at him.  “How long have you been coming here?”

“I bought the place about ten years ago.”

“Are you from West Virginia?”

“Chicago.”

“So tell me, since you weren’t hatched and like dogs, do you have family?”

He smiled.  “Parents.  Younger sister. Older brother. My brother has a big, noisy family.”

Big, noisy family
. She felt a pang.  Once she’d hoped to have a big, noisy family of her own. 

Burke said.  “You okay?”     

She’d come to a stop.  Eve put the wistful thought from her mind.  “I’m fine.”

She dropped the subject of family and focused on her reason for being in these woods.  She spotted a circle of wild chives and bent over them.  Perfect. She added several to the bowl.   A few steps away, dandelions sprouted.  She picked a handful of them as well. 

At Burke’s arched eyebrow, Eve grinned.  “Boil dandelion stems and they taste like spinach.”

“Hard to believe.”

“You’ll be eating those words.  Literally.  We have enough.  We can head back.”

Back at Burke’s cabin, Eve filled a pot with water then set it on the stove to boil.  She took the skillet she’d washed from the drainer, poured a dollop of oil into the pan, then set it on the stove as well.  She dumped the contents of the bowl she’d filled from the forest into the sink and treated her pickings to a thorough cleansing.  That done, she chopped the vegetables and plopped them into the skillet.

The aroma of sautéing vegetables and rich tomato sauce filled the air.  Eve transferred the contents of the skillet, now gently browned, to the bubbling sauce and lowered the heat.  The  water reached boiling point and she unwrapped the pasta and placed it in the pot.

Fifteen minutes later, Eve turned to Burke.  With a flourish, she said, “Dinner is served.”

She drained the dandelions she’d boiled, added salt and pepper and offered the bowl to Burke.  From her place across the table from him, Eve watched him taste a stem.

His brows arched and his wary expression became one of surprise.  “I’ll never look at dandelions in the same way again.”

Eve smiled.  “Told ‘ya.”

Burke forked up a portion of sauce and vegetable coated pasta.   “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

The smile left Eve’s face.  She lowered her gaze to her plate.   “My daughter Emily had several food allergies.  I consulted an herbalist on how to make her meals more palatable using spices and herbs that she didn’t react to.  We didn’t live near a wooded area and some things were unavailable in grocery or health food stores, so Em and I started a garden in our yard and grew only the things that she could eat.  She loved to discover new things we could plant there.” 

Eve felt Burke’s gaze on her, but couldn’t meet his eyes yet.  She rose to her feet, seized her plate and the now empty bowl of dandelion greens from the table and dashed to the sink. 

Burke’s chair scraped across the wood floor.  He came up behind her and placed his hand on hers, now immersed in soapy water. 

“I know that your daughter was killed in a car accident five years ago.  I’m sorry,” he said softly, linking their fingers beneath the suds.

Five years had not dulled the pain of Emily’s death. Tears burned her eyes.  She wanted to be alone when they fell. 

“It’s been a long day.” The words tumbled out of Eve’s mouth in her urgency to flee.  “I’ll do the dishes in the morning.  Good night.” 

* * *

He felt a surge of anger and took another turn around the hotel room he’d been staying in since the start of the chemist’s conference.  His cover had served him well, providing him with the opportunity he needed to remain close to his prey. 

Until recently.  His prey had eluded him.

He clenched his fists.  Where were they?  All of his efforts so far had failed to turn up where Eve Collins and Burke had gone to ground.

Eve Collins was proving to have as many lives as a cat.  She’d cheated death - twice.  His attempts to kill her had failed. The last attempt that should have gotten the job done had, instead, put Eve and Burke on alert.  Sent them into hiding.   He swung around and slammed his fist into the nearest wall.   

His efforts had also failed to turn up the formula.

Time was running out.  The people he worked for were getting anxious for their product.  He swallowed and broke out in a sweat.  It wouldn’t do to keep these people waiting.

He took a calming breath.  It was time to finish this  - to get the formula and to get rid of the loose end that was Eve Collins - and he knew just how to do it.

Chapter Nine
 

Burke knocked on his bedroom door. An image of Eve, sprawled across his bed, her glorious hair wild as it had been yesterday when she’d awakened, flashed in his mind and he broke into a sweat.  He shook his head to clear it, then knocked again, louder.

“Eve, wake up.”

His tone came out sharper than he’d intended.  Hurried footsteps thudded across the wood floor then the door was flung open. 

“What’s happened?”

Her taut expression reflected her alarm.  He shook his head and smiled to reassure her.

“Nothing.  Yet.  Get dressed, we’re going out.” 

“Burke, it’s five o’clock in the morning.  We’re in the middle of nowhere.  Where do you suggest we go?”

She had one hand on her head, clutching the wild mane of hair.  The impact to his senses was diffused but only slightly.  Burke could feel himself reacting to her again and forced his thoughts back to why he was at her door.

“Fishing.”

“What?”

“It’ll be light in an hour.  I warn you, it’s cold on the lake at this time of the morning.  Dress warm.”

Eve blew a breath at a hunk of hair that lay across her eyes then turned away from Burke.    “The only place I’m going is back to bed.” Feet dragging, she followed up her words with action.

Burke trailed Eve back into his bedroom, and yanked a pair of sweat pants, a sweat shirt with a logo for the Chicago Bears and a pair of thick socks out of the armoire.  “Put these on.  I doubt you have anything warm enough in your bag.”

He left without a backward glance to check, closing the door behind him. She hadn’t balked at the invitation.  It occurred to him that she might.  Maybe she hadn’t because she needed a distraction from the worry and fear of her situation.

He had to be out of his mind to suggest this.  The last thing he needed was to spend more time in her company when the sight of her had his insides tightening.  

To further torment him, an image of her standing as she had just been, fresh from his bed came to him.  But on the heels of it came another image: Eve’s face, ravaged, as she spoke of her daughter’s death.  Five years later, her hurt was still raw.  Her pain had stayed with him long after she’d fled the kitchen to find what solace she could on her own.