Killer Dreams (11 page)

“I meant…” She had to stop as her voice broke.

He was silent a moment. “Are you crying?”

She didn’t answer.

He reached forward and gently touched her cheek. “You are crying. I guess I should have expected it, but somehow I didn’t.”

“Why not?” She tried to steady her voice. “You’re always telling me how soft I am.”

He didn’t answer for a moment. “I didn’t want to play on your sympathies. You asked and I answered. What happened at Garwood happened and now it’s over.”

But he still had nightmares that he refused to give up because it kept the hatred white-hot. “It’s not over.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “That’s a stupid thing to say. You’re still living it.”

“No, it’s a new page, with me in control.” He paused. “And you’re in control too. As long as your mind and will are your own, they can’t beat you down.”

“I know that,” she said wearily. “You don’t have to tell me. Or maybe you did. I seem to be having—I guess I wanted to find that disk more than I knew.”

“We’ll find it. We’ll just turn to the next page.” His tone was absolutely confident. “In fact, we may do that when we manage to get out of this van. I want you to take cover and let me scout around. Kelly said that the vans were unloading at a dock. I want to know the name of the ship the contents are being put on. That way we can track the ship to its destination when it sets out to sea.”

“Providing we can get out of here without setting off any red flags by your killing the drivers,” she said dryly. “What would you do then?”

“Why, Sophie.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Then I’d just have to turn another page.”

“Everything seems to be in order,” Gerald Kennett said when Sanborne picked up the phone. “The blackout appears to have been caused by a power overload. It spiked and caused the main board to go down.”

“And the emergency generator?”

“It blew the main distributor at the transfer junction. Everything went down within a fifty-mile radius.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Security has been over the entire facility with a fine-tooth comb. No intruders and nothing apparently out of order.”

“Apparently isn’t good enough. I’m leaving my house now to check for myself.”

“Suit yourself. I’m just trying to save you a needless inconvenience.”

“Didn’t it occur to you that this blackout was too much of a coincidence when that Dunston woman is running around loose?”

“The power outage was an accident. And even if it weren’t, it would have had to be done by an insider with the technical skill Sophie Dunston obviously doesn’t possess.”

“I don’t like coincidences.” Sanborne hung up the phone.

10

T
he van had stopped.

She could feel the sudden tension in Royd’s body. “Be quiet,” he whispered as he carefully opened the cabinet door. “And stay here until I motion you to come. Then follow me and move fast.”

Did he think she was going to move in slow motion once she got out of here? she wondered in annoyance. Keep calm. It was panic that was causing her to be this on edge. She could see Royd ahead of her at the doors, crouched behind a pile of rolled-up carpets. There was a gun in his hand.

And someone was opening the doors of the van, talking to someone behind him. “Go get help from those Portuguese bastards on the ship. We only have orders to unload the vats personally ourselves and there’s nothing but furniture on this trip. I’m not about to unload all this crap myself.”

Laughter and then the doors slid open.

One short, stocky man stood there, looking over his shoulder and still talking. Then he turned and moved out of her line of vision.

Royd was rising, motioning to her.

Jesus, that driver couldn’t be more than a few yards away.

What the hell? She could only hope Royd knew what he was doing. She scrambled out of the cabinet and ran toward the back of the van.

Wet, salt-laden air assaulted her as she let Royd lift her from the truck. She received a lightning impression of warehouses lining the wharf where a cargo ship was docked.

The ship…

No driver. Where was he?

Then she heard the slide of metal on metal as the truck driver opened the door of the other van parked directly behind the one from which they’d just jumped.

She dove after Royd, who was rolling beneath the van and crawling toward the driver’s cab. Dear heaven, it seemed she’d been doing nothing but crawling underneath vehicles tonight. First the cars at the facility parking lot and now this truck. But the huge tires of the eighteen-wheeler formed a much safer barrier than the passenger cars’.

It was a good thing, because she heard the Portuguese seamen talking as she caught up with Royd. He motioned her to stop as he flattened himself next to one of the wheels, his gaze on the far side of the truck.

She held her breath.

Five men.

They were strolling leisurely, evidently in no hurry to start unloading. And they passed the back of their truck and went toward the one parked behind it.

“There’s a warehouse twenty yards ahead,” Royd whispered. “We can’t count on it being unlocked and vacant. So we hide behind the oil drums in front and make our way around the back.”

She nodded curtly. “Get going, dammit. Once they start unloading, they’ll be all over the place.”

He glanced at her and then smiled. “Right. I’m on my way. And you’re on your own.”

And the next moment he was crawling from beneath the truck and running toward the warehouse.

She took a quick glance at the other truck, then followed him.

Twenty yards? It seemed more like a hundred yards. Every moment she expected to hear a shout behind her. Then she was diving behind the oil drums. Royd was already at the corner of the warehouse. The next moment he disappeared from view. He’d obviously meant it when he’d said she was on her own, she thought as she bent low and raced toward the corner.

“Very good.” He was waiting for her as she reached the corner. “Now wait here while I get closer to that ship.” He turned to go back on the dock. “As soon as I come back, we’ll get out of here.”

She felt a surge of panic. “Why go back to the ship?”

“I was in a bit of a rush and didn’t get the name of the ship.”

“I did.
Constanza.
”

He gazed at her in surprise. “You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. It was the first thing I looked at after I jumped out of the van. Now, how the hell do we get out of here?”

He turned back and started at a trot toward the rear of the warehouse. “With extreme speed and infinite care.”

It took Sophie and Royd four hours to get back to their motel. First, traveling by taxi to the airport to rent a car and then the two-hour journey back to the motel.

Sophie was almost numb with exhaustion as she watched Royd unlock the door. “
Constanza
. I have to check
Constanza
on my computer. It has to be a Portuguese registration and that should—”

“Give yourself a few hours’ sleep first.” Royd threw open the door. “It won’t hurt and you won’t be in danger of falling asleep at the keyboard.”

“I won’t fall asleep. And that truck driver mentioned something about vats. What the devil did he mean?” She headed for the adjoining door. “I’ll take a shower to wake up. I need to—” She stopped as she caught sight of herself in the mirror over the desk. “Good God, I look like I’ve been through a tornado.” She touched the oil on her cheek that must have come from the oil drums. “Why didn’t you tell me? And why didn’t you get this filthy?”

“I did. But you weren’t noticing much after we got away from the docks. I believe you were a little tense. I cleaned up in the airport before I went to the rental agency and picked you up outside.”

“Tense” was an understatement. It had been an exhausting and frightening night. She probably wouldn’t have noticed if he’d shed his clothes in the airport and picked her up naked. She shook her head. “I’m surprised the taxi driver let us in his cab.”

“Most cab drivers aren’t that picky about fares at that hour of the night, and I tipped him well. Actually, it was good that you were so dirty you were practically unrecognizable. Suppose I sit down with your computer and start a search on the
Constanza
while you’re in the shower. That should save a little time.”

She nodded. That made sense and Lord knows she wanted to get the information as soon as possible. “The computer’s in my duffel. I won’t be long.”

“Take your time.” He went to the duffel sitting against the wall and unzipped it. “Like I said, the
Constanza
’s not going to sail off into the sunset or sunrise today. The facility isn’t ready to be shut down yet.”

“I want to know.” She grabbed her nightshirt and terry robe from the duffel and headed for the shower. “I want to know everything I can find out about what Sanborne is up to.”

“You think I don’t?” He flipped open the laptop. “And I’m not known for my patience.”

“Really? I would never have guessed.” She shut the bathroom door and started stripping. Keep going. She’d feel better after she washed some of the dirt and weariness away. It hadn’t been a total washout of a night. She hadn’t found the REM-4 disk but she had a copy of one that Sanborne might have valued. They hadn’t been caught or hurt or killed and that didn’t suck. And they knew the name of the ship that was transporting all the equipment.

She stepped beneath the shower and let the warm water flow over her for a few minutes before reaching for the shampoo. What was Michael doing now? It was almost 4:00
A
.
M
. here and that meant it was 9:00
A
.
M
. at MacDuff’s Run. She had called him yesterday as she’d promised and he’d sounded happy, even excited. He’d said he had a night terror the night before but MacDuff took care of him. God, she hoped he was happy. At least he was safe, and that was what was important.

Keep well, keep happy, Michael. I’m working hard to bring you home.

Royd glanced up as she walked out of the bathroom ten minutes later. “Come over here. There’s something you should see.”

“The
Constanza
?” She moved quickly over to the desk. “You found out something?”

He shook his head. “I decided to check the local news first.” He swiveled the computer around. “The police announced that there were no bodies in the fire at your house and that you were officially listed as a missing person.”

She frowned. “But that’s old news. You told me the fire department had already made that finding. Why are you acting as if it’s—”

“We didn’t expect what they reported in the second paragraph. Keep reading.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t see—Oh, my God.” Her gaze flew to his face. “Dave?” she whispered. “Dave’s dead?”

“So it would seem. I checked the related story in the newspaper. His body was found yesterday afternoon in a ditch outside the city.”

Her gaze returned to the article. “Shot to death. Killer unknown.”

“Except that the police are making a few guesses.”

She shook her head to clear it of the shock. “Me? They’re looking for me. They think I did it.” She dropped down on the bed. “My God.”

“It makes sense to them. You blow your house up and hope that everyone thinks you’re dead. Then you kill your ex-husband.”

“But eventually they’d discover I didn’t die in the explosion.”

“Remember, the police believe you’re a little unbalanced and not thinking straight.”

“But why would I kill Dave?”

“There are usually disputes after a divorce. Are you saying that you didn’t have any?”

“Of course we did. But I wouldn’t—” Her body was starting to shake. “For Christ’s sake, he was my lover. I had his child.”

“And he married another woman after he divorced you when you went around the bend.”

“I didn’t go around the bend,” she said through her teeth. “They would never have released me if I wasn’t stable.”

“No? There are all kinds of stories about premature releases that result in killing.”

“Shut up.”

“Just playing devil’s advocate. It said in the story that Edmunds’s wife said he left immediately after he got a call. He seemed very excited but he wouldn’t tell her where he was going. It would be natural that he wouldn’t be eager to tell his wife that his ex-wife was wanting to see him.”

“Jean wasn’t jealous of me.”

“Why not? You’re beautiful, you’re smart, and you’re Michael’s mother.”

“She just—She was the woman Dave should have married and she knew it. Her only aim was to be a stay-at-home housewife and help Dave in any way she could. She realized I wasn’t a threat and only wanted what was best for Michael.”

“But I bet she’s thinking twice now. A grieving widow always wants revenge.”

“Will you be quiet?” She lifted her trembling hand to her head. “I have to think.”

“I’m trying to help you think. You’re shaken and—” He stopped. “You’re probably grieving over that bastard yourself. That’s getting in the way.”

Shock surged through her. “He wasn’t a bastard. He had faults like anyone else but he—”

“Okay, okay.” Royd closed the laptop with barely contained violence. “What do I know? But I wouldn’t abandon a partner if he got into hot water. From what I hear, the marriage bonds are supposed to be a hell of a lot stronger. He should have been there for you.”

“You don’t realize how difficult it was living with Michael.”

“You were living with him too. You didn’t leave.” He went on before she could answer. “Grieve all you please if you’re that stupid. But don’t let it get in the way of self-preservation. This is bad stuff and we’ve got to cope with it.”

“You know I didn’t kill him.” She rubbed her temple. “I wasn’t near that ditch. The police will find that out if they investigate.”

“Will they? Not if the person who killed him knew what he was doing. I don’t believe Sanborne would send another Caprio this time. He’d use a top gun.”

“What are you saying?”

“That he will have cleaned up any of the forensic evidence that would lead the police to him and planted a few items that would link you to the killing.”

“How?”

“DNA. It’s an assassin’s best friend these days. Providing he can dodge the bullet himself.”

“As I’m sure you could,” she said bitterly.

“Yes, I’m damn good at dodging bullets. But you don’t have to worry about me, you have to worry about the envelope or bits of hair that the cops are going to find.”

“Envelope?”

“That was one of the objects that our teachers at Garwood suggested. You lick an envelope and the DNA is identifiable for years. You get a bit of hair from a brush in the subject’s locker and it’s another clincher. Did Sanborne have access to any of your correspondence when you were with him?”

“Of course he did.”

“And do you keep personal grooming items in your locker at the hospital?”

She nodded.

“Then I’d bet the police will be taking a bundle to the DNA lab and your goose is cooked. Understand?”

She did understand and it terrified her. “He killed him just to frame me?”

“Good chance. You’re proving to be a problem and there would be no better way to discredit you.”

She shook her head dazedly. “It seems impossible. No, it doesn’t. I just can’t take it in.”

“Then you’d better start.” His tone was as hard as his face. “Because we’ve got to begin planning a countermove.”

“Just go away, Royd. I need some time to myself.”

“Later. You can mourn Edmunds after you realize the implications.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair. “The most important one for you is that you’re going to be hunted. And that hunt will include Michael.”

“Michael’s safe in Scotland.”

“Will MacDuff be willing to hide him if it means tangling with U.S. law enforcement?”

“I don’t know. But Jock wouldn’t let anything happen to him.” Yet would Jock be able to offer him shelter if MacDuff refused him sanctuary? She just didn’t know. “They may not be able to trace him.” She had a thought. “Or maybe they will. Dave may have told Jean about Jock. Jesus, I don’t know.”

“We have to assume the worst to be safe. One, you’re a suspect and it may take some fancy dancing to get you out of this. Two, as long as you’re a suspect, you have no credibility and Sanborne is sitting pretty. Three, Michael will be vulnerable from both Sanborne and Boch and the police. Agreed?”

“Of course I agree.”

“Good, then I’ll leave you to get some sleep.” He stood up. “I had to make sure it would sink in before I left you. It’s more important that you consider your position than Edmunds’s demise.”

“No, it’s not.” She could feel the tears stinging her eyes. “I have to think about both of them. I was married to him, for God’s sake. You may be able to compartmentalize, but I can’t do it. I don’t have that degree of coldness.”