On The Run (3 page)

He was getting into the driver’s seat.

Two minutes.

Make a decision.

She got to her feet. “Come on, Frankie. Climb in the backseat. He won’t hurt us.”

“You know him?” Frankie whispered.

“Yes, I know him.” She took her daughter’s hand and led her toward the car. “I’ve known him for a long time.”

T
here’s a blanket on the seat, Frankie,” Kilmer said as he stepped on the accelerator. “Take off your poncho and wrap up.”

“Should I?” Frankie was looking at Grace, who had climbed into the backseat with her.

Grace nodded. “You’re sopping wet.” She reached for the blanket and wrapped it around her. “We have to get you dry, honey.” She turned to Kilmer. “Take us to town and drop us off at a motel.”

“I’ll take you to town.” He glanced at her. “I’m not sure any motel would take you in. You look like you’ve been buried in a mudslide for a month.”

“Then you can check me in before you leave us.” She was reaching for her phone. “I don’t need you for anything else.”

“You’re calling Robert Blockman?”

No time to wonder how he knew about Robert. “I have to make sure he’s all right. He was back at the farmhouse and I don’t know what kind of spot—”

“He wasn’t at the farm.”

She looked at him. “How do you—” She stopped. “You blew up that car.”

“It was the easiest way to draw them away from you. They weren’t very woods-savvy, but I wasn’t sure that they wouldn’t stumble across you. I took one of them out in the woods, but there wasn’t time to stalk down the other two when you and Frankie were so close. So I drew them back to the farm.”

“Then I’ll have to warn Robert that they’re still there. He was on his way to—” She stopped again as she saw Kilmer shaking his head. “Has something happened to Robert?”

“Not that I know about. But I resolved the problem at the farm before I came after you.”

Resolved the problem. She’d heard Kilmer say that so many times before. “You’re sure?”

“You know I’m always sure.” He smiled. “You don’t have to worry about your watchdog.”

“Yes, I do.” She dialed Robert’s number. “If he didn’t get to the farm, I should have heard from him. He was going to try to find Charlie.”

She got Robert’s voice mail. She hung up without leaving a message. “He’s not answering.” She turned to him. “Tell me what’s happening, dammit.”

“Later.” He glanced at Frankie, who was bent over drying her hair. “I think she’s had enough for one night. You don’t want to worry her any more than she is already.”

Frankie’s head lifted and she glared at Kilmer. “That’s pretty stupid. How can I help worrying about Charlie? And Mom’s worried too.”

Kilmer blinked. “Sorry if I treated you disrespectfully. I obviously didn’t realize who I was dealing with.” He paused. “I’m concerned about your friend Charlie too. I know you’re probably scared and confused, and I believe I’ll let your mother discuss the matter with you. It’s difficult to give anyone a clear picture unless they have a background in the problem.” He glanced at Grace. “Does she?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.” He gazed gravely at Frankie. “I’m sure your mother will rectify that omission as soon as she can. And you’ll trust her and know that it’s the truth. Okay?”

He was talking to Frankie as if she was an adult, Grace thought. It was the right way to handle her. But then, Kilmer was very smart about people.

Frankie was nodding slowly. “Okay.” She curled up on the seat and wrapped the blanket around her again. Her face was pale and her hand clutching the blanket was shaking. She had been through a nightmare tonight and Grace wanted desperately to hold her, rock her. Not now. Not until she was sure they were somewhere safe. Frankie was holding on to her composure by a thread. One touch might break her.

“Smart kid.” Kilmer’s gaze was on Grace’s face in the rearview mirror. “She’ll deal with it.”

“How do you know? You don’t know anything about her.” She crossed her arms over her chest. It was weird to be so cold on this hot August night. She hadn’t been chilled before, but now that the adrenaline was subsiding, she was shaking as badly as Frankie. “Turn on the heater.”

“It’s on,” Kilmer said. “You’ll feel it soon. I thought you’d have your usual reaction. Just relax and let the— Shit!” His brakes screeched as he stopped on the side of the road beside the river. “Stay here.” He jumped out of the car and was running down the incline toward the riverbank. “I think I caught sight of a truck down there in the water. Do what I say. You don’t want to leave Frankie alone.”

But Frankie was already out of the car.

Grace caught her before she could follow Kilmer down the incline. “No, Frankie. We’ve got to stay here.”

“Charlie has a truck.” Frankie was fighting to get free. “It could be him. We’ve got to help him. It’s in the water.”

“Kilmer will tell us if we can help.” Grace was in an agony of frustration as her gaze followed Frankie’s. The river water was up to the windows of the cab and she could see very little else through the rain. It might not be Charlie’s truck.

Hell, who else could it be on this stretch of road? She wanted to be down
there
. But there was no way she could have Frankie go with her if it was Charlie’s truck. She put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “It’s better if we stay here. If Charlie’s there, Kilmer will get him out.”

“He’s a stranger. You don’t even like him. I can tell.”

“But he’s very good in emergencies. If I was in that truck, there’s no one I’d rather have go after me than Kilmer.”

“Is that the truth?”

“That’s the truth. Now let’s get closer so that we can see if there’s anything we can—”

Kilmer was coming up the bank, half-leading, half-carrying someone.

She stiffened, her heart jumping with hope. Charlie?

“Charlie!” Frankie was running toward them. “I was so scared. What—”

“Easy, Frankie.” It was Robert, not Charlie, who was being helped up the bank. He was soaking wet and dragging his left leg. “Be careful, this muddy bank is slippery.”

She skidded to a stop. “Robert? I thought it was—”

“No.” Robert met Grace’s eyes. “God, I’m sorry. I dove in and managed to get him out of the cab, but when I got him to the bank, I found out it was—” He shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry, Grace.”

“No! Don’t you tell me that.” She was running past him down the incline.

Not Charlie.

He was wrong.

Not Charlie.

He was lying on the bank. So still.

Too still.

Grace fell to her knees beside him.

Don’t give up. Drowning victims sometimes could be brought back.

She felt for his pulse.

Nothing.

She bent over him to give him mouth-to-mouth.

“It’s no use, Grace.” Kilmer was standing beside her. “He’s gone.”

“Shut up. Drowning victims can be—”

“He didn’t drown. Look closer.”

How was she supposed to look closer when she couldn’t see through the tears brimming from her eyes and running down her cheeks? “He . . . was in . . . the river.”

“Look closer.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She saw the hole in Charlie’s temple.

She bent over double as the pain jagged through her. “No. It didn’t happen. Not to Charlie. It’s not fair. He was—”

“Shh.” Kilmer was kneeling beside her. “I know.” He pulled her into his arms. “God, I wish—”

“Let me go.” She pulled away from him. “You don’t know. You never met him.”

“I know your pain. I’m feeling it, dammit.” He stood up. “But you won’t believe me right now.” He looked down at her. “I’ll leave you alone with him for a few minutes, but you’d better get back to the car. Frankie’s pretty upset. I left Blockman with her, but she needs you.”

He didn’t wait for an answer but started up the incline.

Yes, Frankie would need her. Frankie loved Charlie. Frankie wouldn’t understand the death of a loved one.

Neither did Grace. Not this loved one . . .

She reached out and gently pushed back the damp hair that was clinging to Charlie’s forehead. He was always very neat about his hair. She had often teased him about how much he combed—

The tears were coming again. Try to stop them. Frankie needed her.

Jesus, Charlie . . .

3
                                                                                                                                       

F
rankie tore away from Robert and hurled herself into Grace’s arms when she opened the car door. Tears were running down her cheeks. “They wouldn’t let me go. Tell them I have to go see Charlie.”

“No, baby.” Grace hugged her close and buried her face in her daughter’s hair. “You can’t see Charlie right now.” And never again. But how to say those words?

“You’re crying.” Frankie pushed her away and looked at her face. She reached out with a tentative hand and touched Grace’s cheek. “Why?”

She drew a shaky breath. “Why are
you
crying?”

“Because I’m scared and they wouldn’t let me go down—”

“And I’m crying because they did let me go to Charlie.” She cupped her hands around Frankie’s face. “And I knew I had to tell you something terrible.”

“Terrible,” Frankie whispered. “About Charlie?”

“He’s gone, baby.” Her voice broke and she had to stop. Get through it. She tried again. “Charlie’s not going to be with us any longer.”

“Dead. You mean he’s dead.”

She nodded jerkily. “That’s what I mean.”

Frankie stared at her in disbelief.

“It’s true, Frankie.”

“No.” Frankie buried her face in Grace’s chest, her little body convulsed with sobs. “No. No. No.”

“Get into the car with her,” Kilmer said as he opened the driver’s door. “I’ll drive you to that motel and get you settled.”

“Maybe I should have told her, Grace,” Robert said as he moved over on the seat. “I thought you’d want to do it yourself.”

“You were right.” She sat down and pulled Frankie closer in her arms. She rocked her back and forth in an agony of sympathy. “It was my job. Shh, baby, I know none of this makes sense and it hurts. It hurts. . . . But I’m here and it will get better. I promise it will get better.”

“Charlie . . .”

Just let her mourn and hope the tears would bring some sort of closure. She didn’t know what else to do. God, she felt helpless.

And in pain. The world seemed full of pain.

Pain for Frankie, pain for herself. Pain and regret that Charlie’s life had been ended so brutally.

“I’m sorry.” Frankie was looking up at her, the tears still running down her cheeks. “You’re hurting too. Am I making it worse for you?”

Jesus, who could have expected Frankie to think of anyone else at a time like this? Grace shook her head. “You’re making it easier. Sharing always makes it easier.” She pressed Frankie’s head back on her shoulder. “We’ll get through it together. Just like we always do.”

“Is the Holiday Inn okay?” Kilmer asked as he turned the car and drove back onto the road.

“Yes, it doesn’t matter.”

“You could stay at my place,” Robert said.

Grace shook her head. “Thanks, maybe later.” She leaned back in the seat. “Not tonight.”

“You’re afraid my apartment might not be—” He looked at Frankie. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll check in next door.”

“I’ll take care of it, Blockman,” Kilmer said.

Robert shook his head. “You don’t stay anywhere near her. Not until I do some checking with Washington.”

Kilmer shrugged and didn’t pursue it.

But he wouldn’t let Robert stop him from doing anything he wanted to do, Grace knew. He would just go around the corner of the obstacle and slip in another way. Kilmer was relentless.

“It’s okay, Grace.” Kilmer was gazing at her in the rearview mirror. “I’m not going to make trouble for you.”

“You bet you’re not.” Her arm tightened around Frankie. “I have only one thing to ask right now. Is Frankie in any immediate danger?”

He shook his head. “We have a few days.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. If Kilmer said it was safe, it was safe. “Good. But you’re not going anywhere until I talk to you.”

He nodded. “Agreed.” He looked at Frankie. “After you get her through this.”

Yes, after she got her through this horror of a night she would deal with him.

K
ilmer’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he watched Blockman usher Grace and Frankie into the lobby of the motel.

Christ, he wanted to go with them.

It didn’t matter what he wanted. It would be the worst possible move to crowd Grace now when she was in the throes of grief and anxiety. Let her come to terms with Charlie’s death before he piled more stress on her.

He dialed Donavan’s number. “Any news?”

“Other than Marvot’s people buzzing around like hornets ready to sting? No. How is it there?”

“Shit. But Grace and Frankie are still okay.” He paused. “Kersoff’s boys found her. They work strictly on the bounty, so I figure I have a day or two before someone else comes after her. But they will come. There has to be a leak.”

“You told me that the Company buried her records.”

“If there are enough people looking, then the chance of an information buy goes up astronomically.” He paused. “I have to get her out of here. It’s not going to be easy.”

“I’d think she’d want to get out.”

“Not with me. Never with me. But I can’t give her a choice if she won’t see reason.”

“Grace is smart. She’s not going to risk that little girl.”

“But which way will she choose to save her?” Kilmer stared at the entrance through which Grace had disappeared. “In her eyes, behind every door there’s a tiger. And I’m the tiger who savaged her before. Keep me posted.” He hung up the phone. He should check in and get a few hours’ sleep. Blockman was with her and they should be safe. Blockman impressed him as being efficient, and he clearly cared for Grace and Frankie.

Screw it. He’d stay here and keep watch. He made a habit of trusting only his own people, and Blockman was a Company man. He could pull in Cam Dillon, the only one of his men he’d brought to town, but he’d planned on sending him to the farm to keep an eye on things there. The Company would probably rush in a crew to clean up things, but, if not, Dillon would take care of it.

No, he’d stay here himself and make sure Grace and Frankie stayed safe.

It was about time he stepped up to the plate, he thought grimly.

G
race quietly swung the adjoining door almost shut, but left it cracked so that she could hear Frankie if she stirred.

“Is she asleep?” Robert asked.

She nodded wearily. “I thought it would take longer. She probably went to sleep because she couldn’t stand being awake. Escape. You were limping. Is your leg all right?”

He nodded. “I twisted it when I was trying to get Charlie out of the truck.”

She flinched. “What did you do about him? Did you call the sheriff?”

“No, I had some of our boys come down from Birmingham to take care of him, along with the bodies you and Kilmer left at the farm. The site’s probably clean as a whistle now. Washington thought it best.”

“I don’t care what happens to the bodies of those other bastards. Probably one of them killed Charlie. But I do care about Charlie’s remains. Why did they include Charlie in the cleanup? Because they don’t want anyone to know he was murdered? Erase and cover?” Her hands clenched. “Charlie’s not just going to disappear. He lived his whole life in this community. He had friends here. He would have liked to have them say good-bye.”

“Hold it, he’s not just going to disappear. He’ll be listed as drowned in the river, and the CIA will provide suitable witnesses to state they saw the body—without the bullet wound. After that, we’ll move quickly to obey the instructions in Charlie’s will. He wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread over the hills on his property. We’ll just do what he asked and then have a memorial service.”

“How convenient for the CIA. How do you know he wanted to be cremated?”

“For God’s sake, Grace. I liked that old guy. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“How do you know what was in his will?” she asked again.

“Because I was a witness when he changed it three years ago,” Robert said gruffly. “He trusted me, even if you don’t. Do you want to call his lawyer?”

Robert was obviously hurt, and for the first time she remembered that Charlie had been Robert’s friend too. She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. But you work for the Company, and they’ve been known to arrange matters to suit themselves.”

“Not this time. Anyway, he asked me to take care of his arrangements and make it easy for you and Frankie.”

“You can’t do that.” The tears were stinging her eyes again. “They killed him, Robert. He wasn’t involved in this at all. He was in the way and they killed him. That’s no reason for a man to die.”

“No, it’s not.” He paused. “What are you going to do now, Grace?”

“I don’t know. It’s too soon. I always made plans for different scenarios, but I never planned on this happening to Charlie. Or maybe I blocked it out because I couldn’t bear thinking I’d be responsible for him dying.”

“You’re not responsible.”

“The hell I’m not.”

“Because he owned the farm you worked at? You couldn’t live in a vacuum. Your life had to touch someone. And in this case it touched and enriched Charlie more than you knew. These last years were probably the best ones of his life.”

She shook her head.

“Grace. I know what I’m talking about.” He paused. “He left the horse farm to Frankie and appointed you as guardian.”

She stiffened. “What?”

“He loved that little girl. He loved you. He didn’t have any close family, but he thought of you as that family.”

“Oh, shit.” The tears that had brimmed were running down her cheeks. “We loved him too, Robert. What the hell are we going to do without him?”

“What you always tell Frankie after a fall. Get up and get back on the horse.” He smiled faintly. “And when you’re more yourself, you’re going to hate me telling you something you know anyway.”

She shook her head. “My head’s messed up right now. I’m grateful for any help I can get.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

She tried to think. “Have a rental car waiting for me tomorrow morning. I left my car at the farm.”

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Just get me the car.” She smiled without mirth. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to run right now. Kilmer said I had a little time.”

“Good.” He didn’t speak for a minute. “Because when I called Washington, Les North told me he’s bringing his superior, Bill Crane, down here to talk to you.” He glanced at his wrist. “It’s three-forty
A
.
M
. now. He should be here by noon.”

“No.”

“You can tell him that. I don’t have anything to say about it. I’m very low on the totem pole.”

“Let him talk to Kilmer.”

“I’m sure they’re very eager to do that. North perked up when I mentioned Kilmer’s name. Would you care to tell me how he’s involved in this? I’m really tired of acting as bodyguard without knowing who I’m guarding you against. This ‘need to know’ basis is bull.”

She rubbed her temple. “Not now.”

“But you don’t feel threatened by Kilmer?”

She did feel threatened. The moment she had seen him again, every instinct had started vibrating like a fire alarm. “No, I’m not afraid of him.” It wasn’t exactly what Robert had asked but it was all she would allow herself to admit. “Where is he?”

He shrugged. “After he dropped us at the lobby, I guess he took off.” He paused. “When I told North that Kilmer had taken out those three bastards at the farm, he said he wasn’t surprised. Is Kilmer really that good, Grace?”

“Yes.” She turned and gently opened the adjoining door. “He’s very, very good. Good night, Robert.”

A
moment later Grace was staring down at Frankie. Still sleeping, thank heaven. Her face was swollen from weeping and her tousled curls were a silky mop on the pillow. She had been too exhausted and broken to ask questions when Grace was putting her to bed, but they would come when she woke.

And Grace had to be ready for them.

She sat down in the chair by the bed. She wasn’t ready. But then, she’d never be ready. She had to decide what facts to tell and what to leave for another time when Frankie was more able to accept them.

It was going to be a long night.

W
e’ll have to get a rental car from here. I’ve already had it taken care of,” Les North told Crane as they strode through the airport terminal in Birmingham. “Tallanville has no air service. It’s just a small Southern town, a dot on the map. That’s why we steered Grace Archer there eight years ago.”

“Well, evidently someone found that dot,” Crane said grimly. “Why wasn’t I informed of this situation?”

“After Congress tied his hands, your predecessor, Jim Foster, was hoping it would just go away. Marvot had a few senators in his pocket and he’d manipulated several lobbyists to persuade more members of the House to come down on us like a ton of bricks,” North said as they exited the terminal and headed for the rental-car parking lot. “Foster wasn’t much for initiative.” He added with no expression, “I’m sure you would never have let it slide.”

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t. I would have pushed ahead and brought everything out into the open. They love to blame the agency for their own waffling. That’s the only way to keep our butts from getting spanked by those politicians.” He got into the passenger seat of the Buick North indicated. “I’m a firm believer in Murphy’s Law. Something was bound to happen if the situation wasn’t resolved.” He opened his briefcase and pulled out the dossier he’d had his assistant dredge out of the files. “Archer should have been forced to work with us and not allowed to opt out.”

“That’s easy to say. And how were we supposed to do that?”

“Threaten to take away her protection.”

“And lose any hope of having her assistance. She’d already lost a hell of a lot and was pretty bitter.”

“It’s astonishing how bitterness can fade away when you put their life on the line.”

What a son of a bitch, North thought. “Do I have to remind you that she was working with us, Crane?”

“According to her dossier there was some doubt about that. Her father was a double agent and she worked hand in glove with him.” He was scanning the dossier. “Born in Los Angeles, California, to Jean Dankel and Martin Stiller. Mother died when she was three, and her father pulled up roots and went to Europe and took the child with him. He moved in and out of several criminal enterprises and got his hands very dirty indeed. He traveled around Europe and Africa doing gunrunning and whatever other scam he could promote.” He shook his head. “He took the kid with him wherever he went, and it’s a wonder she lived to grow up. At one point they were in Rwanda and she was shot by the rebels and left for dead. The Red Cross worker who found her tried to take her away from her father, but Grace refused and ran away when she got the chance.”