Imposter (3 page)

Her hand that held the formula dropped to her side. She felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach.  She lowered her gaze to Richard’s formula.  The papers fluttered in the slight breeze, defying her to deny them. 

Which, of course, she could not.      

How could Richard do this?  The anger at Burke drained out of her, replaced by horror.  “If this formula were used, so many people could die,” she mumbled.  A coldness crept over her that had nothing to do with the chill in the air and she shivered.  

“Am I supposed to be impressed by your performance?”

Eve’s cheeks warmed at Burke’s unwarranted attack on her character.  “I don’t give a damn about impressing you. I had no clue what Richard was working on.”  She tightened her fingers into a fist, angry with herself over that.  Irrational anger.  It wasn’t her job to keep tabs on Richard. 

“Save it for the courtroom,” Burke said. 

Eve took a step toward Burke.  “You can’t mean you intend to pursue this?”  Her voice rose. “Richard is dead and I’m telling you I don’t know anything other than what you’ve told me.”

“And I told you that Richard claimed you were partners in this plot. We’ve been watching you both for months.  We intended to apprehend the two of you and your buyer at tomorrow’s meeting but Patterson’s death necessitated that you and I talk before that meeting takes place.”

“Richard is dead.  You sound as if the meeting is still on.”

“Oh, it’s on.  I’m going to take Patterson’s place.”

“You?” Eve raised her brows. “You intend to impersonate Richard?  Don’t you think whoever was planning to meet Richard will notice you’re not him?”

The physical differences were impossible to disguise.  Dye could change Burke’s dark hair to Richard’s blond, but there was no way to mistake Burke’s greater height and solid athletic build for Richard’s slight frame.

“We know that Richard and the buyer have never met,” Burke said. “That works out well for us, under the circumstances, and makes it possible for me to take his place. I want you to accompany me.  I want you to introduce me as Richard at the conference to lend credibility to the deception.  The buyer, as you know, is expecting to meet with you both.”

Eve shook her head.  “There will be someone at the conference who’ll know you’re not Richard - his accomplice.  I am not that person.”

Burke ignored her comment.  “I can’t force you to attend the conference with me, of course, but if you refuse, I will have you transported to Washington immediately for questioning. The choice is yours.”

“Sending me to Washington would be a waste of time.  I.  Don’t. Know. Anything.” Eve enunciated each word.

Burke let her see his disbelief and derision in his eyes.  “What’ll it be Doctor - the conference or Washington?” 

Eve couldn’t believe this was happening.  That Richard was dead.  That he’d created a deadly chemical weapon for terrorists.  That she was believed to be working for terrorists as well.  Cold sweat broke out on her spine.  Fear sweat.  She didn’t want to go to the conference and put on this charade but, she didn’t want to go to Washington either to be questioned when she had no answers to give in her own defense. 

She needed a moment to think without Burke’s razor sharp gaze on her and gave him her back as she turned away from his scrutiny. 

She stared into the darkness as she considered her options.  If she went to Washington - game over.  Some option.  She closed her eyes and exhaled a shaky, fearful breath at that finality. 

The conference then?  But if she accompanied Burke to the conference, would she only be delaying the inevitable?   The inevitable . . . Eve pushed the frightening thought away and forced herself to move on.

Burke had said that Richard and his accomplice were going to meet their buyer.  Since the accomplice wouldn’t know Richard was dead, that person would have no reason to deviate from the plan to attend the meeting. When he did show himself, she would be exonerated.

Eve rubbed her temples.  Burke’s plan had merit.  He had inadvertently come up with a plan that would prove her innocence.  He would certainly apprehend the accomplice without her, but being with him ensured that she was in the loop.  She’d been a good cop once - her dishonorable departure from the force didn’t change that truth.  And just now, she welcomed the opportunity to take this active role.

Eve took a deep breath of the crisp night air. The breeze shifted and she inhaled the sweet scent of lilacs from a bush that was now cloaked by the night.   “Okay, Burke. I’ll go along with your plan.”

“What was your relationship with Patterson?”

“What?”

“If I’m going to impersonate him, I need to know how to act with you. There’ll be people at the conference you’ve seen year after year.  You’ve probably spoken of personal matters.  I don’t want anything to raise any red flags.”

“Your surveillance didn’t give you any juicy details?”

She resented the impertinent question that invaded her privacy, but he had a point.  Though she only saw these chemists once a year, they had exchanged jokes about their love lives - and lack- there -of.   She had fielded questions on a number of occasions about the nature of her “business” with her partner.

Reminding herself that she needed Burke to be credible as Richard so the accomplice, if he were observing them, would go through with the meeting, she decided to answer his question.   It was easy enough to do that. She and Richard were never romantically involved.  He’d attempted to initiate an affair early in their partnership.  Casual sex wasn’t her style and with Richard that’s all there would be.  He was self-absorbed and she was not attracted to his pretty boy looks.  She preferred rugged handsomeness, the kind that Burke possessed.  She frowned.  She didn’t care for the thought and dismissed it. 

“Richard and I had a business relationship,” Eve said. “Nothing more.”

Burke nodded.   “Let’s get going.”

“Before we leave here,  I need to take an insulin injection. I’m diabetic.”

She didn’t think her condition would come as a surprise to him.  Her medical history would have been included in his investigation of her. 

Without waiting for his response, she went to the car.  Burke followed her.

Her cell phone lay on the pavement.  He picked it up.  “Yours?”

At her nod, he handed it to her.  She returned it to her purse and retrieved the two pen injectors containing her insulin and an alcohol wipe.  She was on two different types of insulin, a regular and a rapid- acting.  She read the labels, selected the injector with the regular insulin for night time.   Leaning against the passenger side, she left the car door open to provide light and after a swipe of alcohol across her upper arm, administered the injection.  Burke stood by in silence.  After, she added the needle to a plastic container where she’d discarded two others she’d used earlier in the day.  She’d dispose of them properly when she reached the cottage.

“You take three injections daily?”

Burke knew the number, confirming her earlier assumption that he knew of her condition.

She swatted a mosquito that was drawn to the light.  “Yes. This is the last.”

He nodded.  “Do you need a moment before we can leave?”

Eve raised one eyebrow. “Your concern is touching, but I’m good to go.”

“Make no mistake, Doctor, my only concern is that you remain well for questioning.” 

Eve straightened her spine.  “Of course.  Can’t have your suspect die on you before you deliver me to Washington.”  Eve turned away from him and got into the car.  “Get a move on, Burke.  We still have a long drive to the cottage.”

Burke glanced at his watch.  “We won’t be going directly to the cottage.  We have to make a stop first.”

Chapter Three
 

The stop turned out to be a diner on a country road.    

“This is the stop?”  Eve made no effort to hide her impatience.

“I could go for something to eat,” Burke said, turning the car into a gravel parking lot.  “How about you?”

The dashboard clock in the car read eight-eleven p.m.   She’d been late finishing work at the lab, in anticipation of her three day absence, and missed lunch.  The idea of food wasn’t unappealing, but the notion of sitting down to a meal with Burke, the normalcy of it, struck her as incongruous given their circumstances.  Still, she needed to eat. 
Had to
was more like it, whether she was hungry or not because of her diabetic condition.   After three years of living with the disease, she’d learned the routine and respected the necessity of adhering to it. But it left her feeling vulnerable.  She didn’t care for the feeling.     

Burke parked beside the only other vehicle on the lot, a pick-up in need of a wash, and turned off  the car engine.  The diner was back lit by the lowering sun, lending a red glow to the peeling whitewashed structure.

Burke took his black wallet out of the inside pocket of his jacket.  The shoulder holster beneath and the gun it held were revealed for an instant. He opened the wallet, and again Eve glimpsed his picture ID as he extracted a pair of twenties.  He slid the wallet beneath the driver’s seat.

It was an odd thing to do and Eve was sure her facial expression reflected that thought, but she said nothing.  If he chose to be careless with his Agency ID, then that was his concern.

“Ready?”  Burke asked.

Before she could answer, he was standing on the gravel and swinging the car door to a close.

The atmosphere inside the diner was cozy.  Small round tables lined two walls.  Garth Brooks crooned a soft country tune from a radio atop the long counter that glistened from the wipe-down it was getting from a waitress.

They took seats by the window.  She expected Burke to choose a location that backed against a wall.  He didn’t. Too many spy novels, she supposed, had fostered that idea. Seated across from him, she acknowledged that though he lacked the polished looks of the actors who’d portrayed the James Bond character in the movies, Burke would have done that character justice on the Hollywood screen just the same.  His suit covered what appeared to be a hard, athletic body.  The light shadow of beard that now darkened his cheeks and jaw added to his sexy appeal.

Not that how he looked mattered to her. 

The waitress left the counter and ambled up to their table. Eve was glad of the distraction.

“We’re about ready to close,” the woman said.  Deep grooves dug into the sides of her mouth and brow as she spoke.  “Grill’s been cleaned.”  She tilted her head and the purple stones in her earrings twinkled in the light.  “The best I can offer you at this point is a cup of coffee and a sandwich.”

“That’ll be fine,” Burke said.

The waitress ticked off the choices on her fingers. “Ham and Swiss or Tuna Salad.”

“Tuna,” Eve said.

“The same. And the coffee you mentioned would be great.  Black, for me. Eve?”

“Black for me, too - Bu - John.”

Clearly she wasn’t any good at this cloak and dagger stuff, but if the waitress noticed that Eve had almost called her companion by the wrong name, she didn’t react. 

“I’ll be right back with your coffees,” the waitress said.

Eve stretched out her arms on the wooden tabletop and linked her fingers in a tight grip.  By this time tomorrow night, she should be on her way back home. That Richard had used his skill to harm anyone angered her.  She could not comprehend how he would have done this.  As much as she was angry at Burke for refusing to listen when she told him she was innocent, she was glad that he’d learned what Richard was planning before he could sell the formula.

She focused on Burke. “How did you find out what Richard was involved in?”

Burke raised a dark eyebrow in a mocking gesture.  Eve leaned as far forward as the edge of the tabletop allowed.  “Can your sarcasm for a minute and answer my question.”

Burke leveled his gaze on her. “He let it be known that he could be hired to develop chemical weapons.  He answered a personal ad on a website we’ve been monitoring for terrorist activity. That ad was a cover for a request for a chemical weapon.” 

“That’s how these people contact each other?”

“That’s one way.”

Clearly Burke had no intention of elaborating.  She would not have credited Richard with knowing how to initiate such contact.    Again, she was struck by the fact that she’d been clueless to what was going on right under her nose.

The waitress arrived with their coffees.  Eve sat back as the steaming cup was set in front of her.   When they were alone again, she asked, “Do you know why Richard got involved with these people?” A terrible thought occurred to her.   “Richard wasn’t married.  His parents are his only family.”  Eve’s stomach tightened at the thought they might have been threatened.   “Could it have been about more than money?”

“A great deal of money, Doctor,” Burke said.  “If you’re thinking he was pressured or threatened to cooperate, he wasn’t.” 

The waitress returned and placed their dinner orders in front of them.  She left the check by the plates in a not -so- subtle hint that their time was limited.

Burke picked up his sandwich and dug in.  Eve took a couple of bites but found she wasn’t as hungry as she had been a few moments ago.  The gravity of her situation struck her again.  She picked up her coffee and held it between both hands as she took a long sip.  The air conditioner in the diner kicked on making a loud hum and a middle aged man wearing a white T-shirt molded to his lean body started a floor polisher.  The combined sounds made conversation impossible, which Eve was glad of.  She had nothing to say to Burke at the moment and nothing she wished to hear from him.

Burke pointed to her plate and raised an eyebrow.  “Problem with your sandwich?”

Eve shook her head.  “It’s fine.”

Burke didn’t press.  The next few moments were passed in silence as he finished eating. 

“You done?” he asked.

Eve nodded.  Burke placed one of the twenties he’d taken from his wallet on the table to take care of  the check. Eve got to her feet and preceded him out of the diner.  

A third vehicle was parked in the lot when Eve and Burke reached it.  An early model mini van. The windows were covered by curtains patterned with grinning cows. 

An elderly couple strolled around the Porsche. The man was tall with a full head of silver hair.   He smiled as he reached out and patted the rooftop.

“Good evening to you,” the man said. His accent was unmistakably southern. “My wife and I were admiring your very fine ve-hic-le.” 

That’s right.” The woman nodded. She wore a straw hat with a ribbon bow tipped back on her head.   “We had an early model way back when, didn’t we Harry?”

“My, yes. It has been some time.” He released a deep breath and without taking his eyes from the car asked, “Mind if we take a look inside?”

“Be my guest,” Burke said.

Eve glanced at her watch.  They really had to be on their way.

“This sure does take me back,” Harry said from behind the wheel.  He sighed long in appreciation and caressed the leather wrapped steering wheel as if it were a lover. His wife slid into the passenger side and the couple sat together in a companionable silence.

The man reached out and clasped his wife’s hand then brought it to his lips.  Her light blue eyes grew warm on her husband’s face. 

Despite her impatience to be on her way, Eve couldn’t help but be touched by them, touched and a little wistful.  Once, she too, had expected to share a lifetime with her own husband.

“Maybe we ought to just get ourselves one of these again?  How about that Mary?”  Harry winked at his wife.

She laughed.

With a loud and obviously reluctant sigh, Harry stepped out of the car.  He extended his hand to Burke.  “Thank you, kindly.  Appreciate you letting us reminisce.”

“My pleasure,” Burke said.

Harry turned to Eve and shook her hand as well.

“Drive safe,” Mary added.

Eve watched them enter the diner. “That was a nice thing you just did, Burke.”

“I can be nice.”

  “I’ll reserve judgment on that,” she said.

Without replying, Burke got behind the wheel.

They buckled up and left the parking lot.  Night had fallen and the moon roof showed the sky  lit with stars.  Moonlight illuminated the inside of the car.  Burke popped the Van Halen CD out of the player, and selected a radio station that played fifties and sixties rock.  At the moment, Rick Nelson was singing about “Mary Lou”.

Eve rested her head back against the seat.   Lulled by the soft purr of the engine and the music, she felt she could fall asleep.  She couldn’t believe that, given what was going on in her life now, and, given that she was in the company of a man she’d known for only a few hours.

Burke slid his wallet out from under the driver’s seat.  Not his wallet, Eve realized, this one was brown.

She sat upright. ”That’s not the wallet you stashed under the seat before we went into the diner.”

Burke met her gaze.  “No.”  He flipped open the wallet revealing a driver’s license, passport, social security card, and an assortment of credit cards.  The name on each piece of identification was Richard Patterson, but the photos verifying the ID were all of Burke.

  “Then how did you--” Her eyes narrowed as she figured it out.  “The elderly couple.”

Eve tapped the wallet.  “This was why you wanted to stop here.  Those people delivered new ID for you. They work for you, Burke.”

“Not Burke.  Richard.  From here on, I’m Richard Patterson.”

* * *

They arrived at the cottage in Rowland in the early hours of the morning.  For the most part, the streets they’d driven by were all dark, Eve noticed. Apparently, the residents of Rowland were not people who stayed up into the wee hours of the morning.

As described, the cottage was on an isolated stretch of land.  It looked to be built about forty years back when land could be had in abundance for a reasonable price, as opposed to the near postage-sized lots available now and sold at a premium.

Burke parked in front of the small dwelling and they left the car.  He unlocked the door to the cottage.  Apparently when he and Lanski searched Richard’s body earlier, they came up with more than the notes on the formula, Eve observed.  They’d also found the keys Richard had received from the agent he’d rented the cottage from.

Burke switched on the overhead lights and Eve followed him into one large room.  Curtains on the windows were open, letting in the moonlight.  The place was inviting with a large couch filled with thick-stuffed cushions.  A brick fireplace took up a large portion of one wall.   A framed photograph of a bird poised for flight was centered above the fireplace.  The photo was slightly askew. 

From where she stood at the door, Eve could also see the kitchen. The room was painted a cornflower blue with medium oak accents that gave a warm and homey atmosphere.  She took a step, intent on checking out the two bedrooms, but Burke placed his hand on her arm.

“Give me a minute,” he said.