Out of Reach: A Novel (18 page)

“Who visited her yesterday after we left?” she asked, without taking her eyes off Claire.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, find out,” she snapped.

Temple nodded to the nurse, who hurried out of the room with a frown. She obviously didn’t approve of the way he was handling the irrational Ms. Baker and would have liked to take a crack at Erin herself.

“What is going on here?” he asked.

Erin ignored the question, brushing a wispy blond curl from Claire’s cheek. Her sister sighed in her sleep, and Erin bent down to kiss her forehead. Erin had stirred things up, bringing the Magician out of whatever gutter he had occupied. And she’d never forgive herself if anything happened to Claire as a consequence.

The nurse returned with the visitor registration book. “The last people who visited Claire were Erin Baker, Janie Baker, and Marta Lopez.”

Erin turned to her. “Are you sure?”

“Do you want to look for yourself?” she asked.

“Could someone have visited without signing the book?”

The woman bristled. “We take our patients’ safety very seriously here.”

Erin sighed. “I’m sure you do.” And she knew it was the truth. A facility of this caliber couldn’t risk not taking security seriously. So the Magic Man had come in under the guise of a hospital employee—a male nurse, an orderly, or even a doctor. It’s what she would have done in his shoes.

Turning back to Dr. Temple, she said, “I need you to wake her up.”

“Whatever for? She needs to sleep.”

“Claire needs to talk to me.” Erin resisted the urge to shake this guy, who was probably considering the feasibility of sedating her as if she were a patient. “Wake her up.”

“I can’t be responsible—”

“I’ll take full responsibility and sign whatever forms you need, but if you don’t wake her up now, I’ll call an ambulance and take her out of here unconscious. And you can explain to Dr. Schaeffer how you lost one of his prize patients in the middle of the night.”

For a moment she thought he’d refuse. She could see the struggle racing across his face. He so wanted to score a point off her. But in the end, he complied, though clearly with disapproval, giving Claire a shot to wake her.

“Now leave us,” Erin said, and that command he was more than willing to obey.

Claire came out of sleep slowly, stirring, then blinking her eyes into focus. “Erin?”

“It’s me.” Erin squeezed her hand. “I’m here.”

Claire smiled, and for a moment, she was the gentle seven-year-old child whom Erin had lost all those years ago. “You came.”

“All you had to do was ask.” And it was true. All Claire had ever had to do was ask, and Erin would have done anything for her, for her baby sister. The realization sent a choke of emotion to her throat and a sting of tears to her eyes.

“He was here,” Claire said, her voice hoarse from sleep.

“The Magic Man?”

Claire nodded. “He came into my room and told me he’d been watching me. And you. I told the doctors, but they didn’t believe me.”

“I believe you.”

“What are we going to do?”

Erin’s thoughts raced. Claire couldn’t stay here, but Erin couldn’t take her home, either. She couldn’t go to the police or her own organization for help, but she had an idea where else she could find what she needed. “First, we’re going to get you out of here. Then I’m going to take you somewhere safe.”

Claire nodded. “I knew you’d know what to do.”

“Come on.” Erin helped her sister sit up, then handed her a glass of water.

As Erin started to move away, Claire grabbed her arm. “Don’t leave me.”

Erin again took her sister’s hand. “I’m not going anywhere without you. I’m just going to get your clothes.”

Claire released her reluctantly, following Erin with her eyes as she went to the closet and pulled out the dress Claire had worn on Sunday. Erin helped her change, and just as she slipped on a sweater over the dress, the doctor returned.

“What are you’re doing?” he asked.

“I’m taking my sister out of here.”

“But you said if I woke her . . .”

Erin felt a rush of sympathy for the man. He was so young, with no idea what he was up against. “Look, Dr. Temple. She’ll be back. We’re just . . .” If she explained that Claire was in danger, he’d insist on calling the police. Who wouldn’t have a clue about how to protect Claire from the likes of the Magician. “We’re just going for ride.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“It calms her.”

He watched in disbelief as Erin helped Claire off the bed and out into the hall. They walked slowly, arm in arm, while Erin looked at each person they passed, expecting the man with the magic hands. She didn’t see him, but she had no doubt he was watching her, watching them, as they left the hospital.

He couldn’t follow, though, not at night on the empty country roads, without her spotting him. And for that, at least, she was grateful. She’d get Claire somewhere safe. Then
she’d
find
him
.

She drove about fifteen minutes, then stopped outside Fredericksburg at an all-night 7-Eleven. Claire had drifted off to sleep again in the passenger seat, her trust so new and surprising that Erin didn’t know quite what to make of it. Except that she would give her life to live up to it. For now, though, she didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts. She needed to find a place where Claire would be safe.

Getting out of the car, she went to a pay phone. She didn’t want to take a chance on a cell, on either end, so she had to call directory assistance first to get the number she wanted. Then the voice that picked up was feminine.

“Cody Sanders tip line,” she said. “Special Agent Cathy Hart speaking.”

“This is Erin Baker, I need to speak with Agent Donovan.”

There was a long pause at the other end of the line.

“I’m helping him with the Cody Sanders case,” Erin explained.

“I know who you are, Officer Baker.”

Erin sighed. So they’d figured it out. Not surprising really. She’d practically told Donovan herself. “Then you know why I need to speak with Donovan.”

Another pause, a hesitation perhaps. “He’s not here. As a matter of fact, I don’t know where he is. I thought he might be with you.”

“No. He’s not.”

“I’m sorry, then. I can’t help you.”

“Wait, don’t hang up.” Erin had the distinct feeling the woman on the other end was about to do just that. “If you know who I am, then you also know all about the Magician and my sister, Claire.”

No reply.

“I’m calling from a phone booth about ten miles outside Fredericksburg, Virginia. I have my sister with me.” She glanced back at the car, where Claire slept. “The Magician paid her a visit today, and I need your help to protect her.”

XXIV

I
T HAD BEEN YEARS
since Alec had worked a stakeout, and he’d forgotten how much he disliked them. Sitting in an uncomfortable car, hot or cold, depending on the time of year, waiting for something to happen. For someone
else
to do something interesting.

After leaving Erin in the parking lot of Walter Reed Hospital, he’d started with the General’s house in Georgetown, for no other reason than it was an easy place to blend in. Parked several houses down and across the street, he had a clear view of the front door. Later, he’d check out the estate in Middleburg and get a feel for the activity there as well. And at some point he’d have to decide which location would yield more information. For now, though, he planned to take a preliminary look at both.

In reality, it would take an entire team, at minimum four pairs of men working six-hour shifts, to properly cover both properties and watch the General’s movements. But Alec had only himself, and that would have to do. Cathy was already risking her career by covering for him. He wouldn’t make it worse by asking her for another set of eyes.

He rubbed at his right temple, at the headache forming behind it, and lifted his binoculars to get a better look at the structure. It was a large brick box, with white pillars framing the front door. A short wall fronted the property, topped by an iron fence. Alec wondered what the place cost. A mint—multiple mints—he was sure. Georgetown was so far beyond his bank account, he’d never even bothered to check out the price of homes.

The place was quiet but still alive. A stretch limo with diplomatic escort had pulled up earlier, and Neville had gone inside, surrounded by four burly bodyguards. Since then, lights had been blazing from a downstairs window, telling Alec that at least General Neville wasn’t resting easy either.

Alec glanced at his watch. A little after midnight. Plenty of time before dawn for the man to stir up more trouble if he was so inclined.

Around one, a dark sedan pulled up and two men climbed out. Even from a distance, Alec could tell they were soldiers. They carried themselves in a straight, no-nonsense manner, watching the shadows as if expecting attack at any moment. After passing through the front gate, they circled the house to go in through some side or back entrances Alec couldn’t see.

He suspected it was too much to hope that they didn’t work for Neville, but were here to do the man some harm. Especially if theirs was the car that had put Erin’s analyst, Sam, into the Potomac.

On the other hand, the nondescript sedan, the military types, a late-night visit to Georgetown, he hoped it all meant Erin had ditched her tail. And these two jokers were here to report the loss to their boss.

Man, would Alec love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

They weren’t inside long, returning to their car in less than fifteen minutes. Alec waited until they were a block away before easing away from the curb to follow them. They worked their way west, crossing Francis Scott Key Bridge into Virginia, then turning onto 29 South.

Either they didn’t know Alec was behind them or they didn’t care, because they made no attempt to evade him. And well before they arrived in Erin’s Arlington neighborhood, he knew where they were headed.

He let them turn onto her street without following, circled the block several times, then came back down past her house in the opposite direction. They’d parked at the end of the street, just close enough to take note of any cars pulling in or out of her driveway. Or a pedestrian approaching her front door. They were counting on her coming home, sooner or later.

Alec figured they’d have a long wait.

He considered his options. He could return to Georgetown and wait to see if Neville had any more late-night visitors. Or he could head out to the General’s estate near Middleburg and take a look around.

Alec chose Middleburg.

Georgetown might be Neville’s command post, but his secrets would be kept somewhere out of the way. A country estate, with lots of land, space, and no curious neighbors.

Even knowing that, Alec needed more time than he expected, nearly two hours, to find the place. It was north of Middleburg toward the Potomac, on an obscure country road that wasn’t on any map. There was no marker, nothing to indicate Neville’s ownership of the property. Nor had Alec expected that. People like the General didn’t advertise their locations.

He actually drove by the main entrance twice before realizing he’d found it, and then only because there was nothing else around. On his third pass, he went slowly, noting the heavy iron gate, security cameras, and manned guardhouse. No house in sight, just a road disappearing over a woodsy rise.

Alec kept driving, watching for a break in the trees, finding what he wanted a quarter mile past the gate. A service road, overgrown now, but still visible within the thick undergrowth. He turned in, navigating the grassy road until his car was out of sight of the road. Anyone looking would spot the fresh tire tracks in the long grass, but he was betting no one would be looking. Not tonight anyway.

Maneuvering the car behind a tangled mass of greenery, he shut off the engine and got out. Around him, the woods went silent. Then came alive again with the night chatter of insects.

He checked his .38, for a full clip and a backup one, then returned it to his holster, leaving it unsnapped. From the trunk he retrieved a flashlight that he didn’t turn on, and wouldn’t, if he could help it. And night-vision binoculars, which were the only way he’d get close enough to see anything that would make this trip to the wilderness worthwhile.

Then he started down the overgrown road, picking his way carefully as he slipped deeper into the woods. He’d walked about ten minutes when he found the stone wall. At about six feet, it wouldn’t keep even a determined teenager out, much less a serious trespasser. But he wasn’t about to make any rash assumptions.

After climbing a nearby tree, he used his flashlight briefly to examine the top of the wall, looking for cameras, barbed wire, anything else that might surprise him. He saw nothing.

So the wall was a warning, a “Keep Out” sign.

He scaled it easily, dropping down on the other side, the sound muffled by a thick carpet of leaves. He expected he was officially trespassing on foreign soil now, stepping over the edge where his status as an FBI agent would no longer protect him.

Working his way through the woods, he kept his eyes open for security devices. Cameras in particular. Anything else out here would be too easily tripped by animals. He saw none, until the trees stopped, opening up to carefully manicured grounds, reaching at least an acre toward a stone mansion. It was like something you’d expect to find in Europe. Old. Massive. And ominous in the moonlight.

That’s where he spotted the first cameras, on the trees edging the woods, their lenses aimed at the ground. Anyone moving past this point would be left to Neville’s guards. Who, he realized, were out in force.

Alec dropped to the ground, belly to soft earth, and brought up his binoculars. He counted six men right off the bat. No. Make that eight. Six soldiers, uniformed and armed. Four patrolling the grounds close to the house, two posted near a second, stand-alone structure, much smaller and to the left.

About them all, tension charged the air. He sensed something about to happen. Or just over.

One possibility was the last two men. Not soldiers. But standing in pits already two or three feet deep, digging. Alec held his breath, afraid to speculate on the purpose of those holes. Eventually the diggers climbed out, leaving dark gaps in the earth, and went into the detached building—which looked like a combination garage and storage area for equipment.

Alec shifted back to the soldiers around the mansion. Still there, still on edge. Pacing the grounds. Checking doors and windows. Scanning the surrounding area.

Movement caught his eye, and he quickly refocused on the smaller building as the two men reemerged, each with a wrapped bundle that they carried to the open earth and dropped inside.

Alec’s stomach clenched. Graves.

He thought immediately of Cody Sanders and dug the fingers of his free hand into the dirt. If one of those bundles contained a young boy’s body, Alec was already too late. Racing down there, intent on seeking revenge would only get him killed. And the tragedy of Cody Sanders’s fate would remain a mystery.

So he watched, his chest tight, while the men filled the holes with dirt, patted them with the flat of their shovels, then retreated. This time to the mansion.

Alec sighed and put down the binoculars.

Somehow he needed to get down there, past the security cameras, to see whose bodies were in those graves.

Again, motion brought his attention back to the scene below. One of the diggers had come back outside, hurrying across the opening between the two buildings, stopping only as a guard stepped into his path.

Alec was too far away to hear any of it, but the men’s body language told him enough. They weren’t exchanging pleasantries. The guard waved his gun toward the mansion, but Digger held his ground, even taking a step forward and poking a finger at the armed man’s chest. The guard, smaller by a full head, took a backward step, intimidated despite his weapon. In the end, Digger threw up his hands, then stepped around the guard—who turned, as if trying to decide what to do—as Digger marched into the storage building and slammed the door.

For several long moments, Alec held his breath.

Until a large door slid up on the side of the garage, and he realized it was only one of six such doors. Then a flashy white import—a BMW—nearly leapt out through the opening and sped up the road toward the front gate.

Alex had just found his way in, a means to discover what had happened here and whose bodies were in those graves. And maybe what else was going on.

Pushing back away from the edge of the trees, he kept down until he was a good ten feet into the woods. Then he stood and raced toward the wall and over it, faster than was wise in the dark. He knew he wouldn’t reach his car in time to follow the BMW, but he’d have to try to catch him.

As Alec expected, by the time he reached the road, the BMW was long gone. Hesitating, he considered which way to turn. Left was north, and there wasn’t much that way for a hundred miles, except the Potomac and the Maryland bor-der. So chances were Digger had gone right, heading south for Middleburg.

Alec turned right.

Though he questioned the decision a half-dozen times as he slid through the empty countryside with no sign of the other car. If Digger was running, he might be going for the state border. But he’d looked like a man anxious to get somewhere, not run from something. So Alec kept on toward town.

He was still on the outskirts of Middleburg when he spotted the BMW outside an all-night convenience store. Pulling in alongside it, he parked and went inside. Digger was filling a small handbasket from a shelf toward the back of the store.

“Evening.” Alec nodded to the clerk and headed for the coffeepot, his eyes on Digger two aisles over.

“Sorry, man, the coffee’s pretty stiff,” the clerk called from across the store. “I can make a fresh pot, if you want.”

“Sure.” It would buy Alec some time and give him an excuse to linger. “That would be great.”

The clerk, a kid in his midtwenties, shuffled out from behind the counter and started to put together the new batch of coffee.

Alec walked over and studied the display of ready-made sandwiches. “I should have stopped for dinner a long time ago. Now you’re the only game in town.”

The clerk threw him a quick, knowing grin. “Well, if you’re desperate, those won’t kill you. Otherwise . . .”

Alec laughed and grabbed a sandwich.

“Been on the road long?” the kid asked as he finished with the coffee and headed back to his stool and cigarettes.

Alec followed him. “Since early this morning.” He nodded to Digger, who’d been waiting at the cash register. “I’m trying to get back to D.C. My wife went into labor this morning.” He leaned against the counter, supposedly waiting for the fresh coffee.

“Hey, man, that’s great.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Digger had unloaded his basket. Rubbing alcohol. Iodine. Topical antibiotic. Aspirin. Ibuprofen. Gauze-pad rolls. A couple of Ace bandages.

“It’s a boy,” Alec said, eyeing the items, thinking they wouldn’t do a dead body any good. Then he took his shot. “We’re gonna name him Cody.”

Digger flinched.

“Wow,” Alec said, not giving the man time to recover. “Looks like you’re stocking up for World War Three, fella.”

Digger looked at him, his face hard and unmoving.

Alec lifted both hands, palms out. “Just kidding. It’s good to be prepared.”

Digger’s lips turned up in a tight smile. Hesitated. Then he leaned down, grabbed a half-dozen candy bars, and dropped them on the pile with the rest of his items. He looked at Alec then. “These are for
my
son. Ryan. But he has a friend named Cody.”

“Really.” Alec didn’t take his eyes off the other man’s face. There was intelligence in those eyes, and something else. Fear maybe. But determination, too. “Well, I sure hope you’ve got good dental coverage, ’cause those things will rot your teeth.” He paused, for half a heartbeat. “If you’re not careful.”

“I think there are more dangers than bad teeth.”

“Maybe.”

Digger shrugged, then paid for his purchases and headed for the door.

Alec grabbed a napkin and scribbled a number on it. “I’ll be right back,” he said to the clerk and hurried out the door after the other man. “Wait.”

The big man stopped, turning slowly.

“My name’s Alec,” he said. “Alec Donovan.” He shoved the napkin into Digger’s shirt pocket. “This is for your son, for Ryan. And for his friend. I can help. In case all those candy bars rot his teeth. Call anytime.”