Staying Alive (12 page)

A hint of a smile twitched Krueger’s lips. “You’re one tough woman, Claire. I like that.”

She shrugged. “What can I say? He backed me against a wall.”

He moved closer. “I can’t let you just walk into a trap. Not again.” His voice was softer, but no less determined.

Oh, she got it now. So this was why everyone else had disappeared. Evidently a showdown was planned.

“It’s my choice, Krueger. Not yours. This isn’t like five years ago.”

His hands slipped out of his pockets and braced
at his waist. She recognized the move, an effort to keep his hands to himself.

“But the result will be the same,” he challenged. “And this is my operation. I can’t let you do this. We’ve taken too many risks already.”

His concern touched her, but she understood what he already knew no matter how he painted it. Nusair would not stop. She moved her head side to side. “I won’t let another child go through what I watched Joey and Chad endure. I don’t want to wait two hours. I don’t want to wait at all. I want to do this. Now.”

“We’re going to offer an exchange.”

Worry drew her brow into a frown. “What kind of exchange?”

“I’m going to offer Kaibar in exchange for your clemency.”

That was crazy. “You’re going to let your prisoner go? The number-two guy on the list?” She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “I thought we didn’t negotiate with terrorists.” She was pretty sure even a guy like Krueger didn’t have the power to make that decision.

His lips quirked a half smile, which didn’t reach his eyes. “I didn’t say I was going to let him go. I said I was going to
offer
an exchange. I’m hoping this will buy us some time. Maybe even draw Nusair out into the open.”

“You might distract him for a day but you know that’s not going to solve the situation.” What was he thinking? Even she could see the holes in that strategy. Maybe she was too tired. She couldn’t follow this, couldn’t hope to read him. The one thing she knew with complete certainty was that he wanted to protect her.

“By then it’ll be too late.”

She frowned. “What do you mean, it’ll be too late? Too late for what?”

“You’ll be dead.”

Now that gave her pause. “I’m afraid I don’t follow what you mean.”

His hands dropped to his sides. He was losing the battle on keeping them to himself. “If you’re dead, Nusair can’t seek his revenge. So, we’ll make you dead.”

“You mean like witness protection?” This sounded less and less appealing all the time.

He reached for her hand, held on to her fingers with his own. “Yes. Nusair’s attempts at revenge will end and you can go on with your life.” That glimmer of desperation was back. He’d come up with this plan to save her. A last ditch effort to keep her alive.

“Only with another name and in a new location.” Been there, done that. She’d already given up one life. Losing another was not what she’d had in mind.

On the other hand, losing her life was exactly what she’d resigned herself to. Only she had assumed she would actually be dead.

“I don’t think so.” She tugged her hand free of his, couldn’t let him use that connection to sway her. God knew she needed someone to lean on right now, but she couldn’t let him persuade her to change her mind that way.

“It will be difficult at first,” Krueger admitted, “but you’ll adjust. You’ve already severed any ties with your only family. I know you have friends here, but I believe this is the best solution.”

Wow. He was serious. No wonder everyone had disappeared. She wasn’t expected to be happy about this. Was anyone ever happy about such an offer?

She wanted to say she’d have to think about it, but there was no time. Another child could already have been targeted.

A knock on the door preceded Talkington’s entrance from the hall outside the suite. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but there’s an urgent call for Miss Grant.”

Nusair?

Fear slid like ice through her veins.

Not yet…it was too soon.

Please let it be too soon.

“I assume this isn’t Nusair,” Krueger proposed.

“No, sir, it’s Miss Vernon.”

Claire relaxed marginally. “Is she all right?” Any relief she’d experienced evaporated as she recalled that he’d said the call was urgent.

“She’s fine, ma’am,” Talkington said to Claire. “She’s at school and she says she needs to speak with you right away.”

Krueger nodded. “Put the call through to the room.”

Talkington, via his communications link, told Nance to put through the call.

Claire walked over to the phone on the desk and reached for the receiver the instant it rang. Krueger picked up the other extension on the table near the sofa. He gave Claire a nod to go ahead.

“Darlene?”

“Claire, I’m glad I could get through to you.”

“What’s wrong? Are the children okay?”

“It’s not the children.”

Something in her friend’s voice told Claire to brace herself. “Just tell me what it is, Darlene. What’s happened?”

“It’s your sister…she’s here. She didn’t know how to find you so she came to the school. She said she saw the school on the news.”

Claire couldn’t respond to the news. She didn’t know what to say.

“Claire, she wants to see you. I told her I’d call. She’s waiting in the vice principal’s office.”

“Miss Vernon, this is Special Agent Krueger.”

Claire, still too stunned to speak, listened and watched as Krueger took charge of the situation.

“Tell Ms. Stewart that I’ll send two of my agents to the school to pick her up. They should be there in twenty minutes.” Krueger gave Talkington a hand signal only the two of them understood and Talkington rushed out of the room.

“Okay,” Darlene said hesitantly. “I’ll let her know.”

Krueger placed the receiver he held back into its cradle. Darlene, having heard the click and, obviously, assuming the call had ended, hung up as well. Claire stood there, the receiver still clutched in her hand.

Her sister was here. In Seattle. She wanted to see Claire.

Krueger walked toward her, his gaze steady on hers, a mixture of resignation and determination simmering there.

Anger or maybe confusion catapulted through her. “Why did you do that?” She slammed the receiver back onto the base. “How do you know I want to see my sister?”

He kept coming. “Her name is Whitney Stewart now. She remarried about three years ago.”

Claire blinked. How could he know that? She…

What was she saying? He was FBI. He could find out anything.

“Her daughter’s name is Christina Gail, after you and your mother,” he added gently as he moved in toe-to-toe with her.

She wasn’t Christina anymore. She’d changed her name to Claire years ago.

“My sister hates me,” she said, her voice quavering in spite of all her efforts.

“Her name is Whitney,” Krueger reminded, as if she didn’t know her own sister’s name. He touched her arm, let his hand slide down until his fingers entwined with hers once more.

“I know her name.” She should have yanked her hand free of his, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Maybe she was just a coward pretending to be brave. Any second now she’d probably fall to pieces.

“She’s here, Claire. I know you want to see her.” He lifted his free hand, touched her cheek so tenderly her chest ached.

She blinked twice, three times. She hated that a stupid tear streamed down her cheek anyway. She wasn’t usually such a baby. He swiped it away. She wanted desperately to lean into him, but then he’d win. He’d get his way and she’d end up doing things she didn’t want to do.

“She pushed me out of her life after…” God, she couldn’t say it.

“After you protected her and her daughter from her abusive husband. I know,” he said gently. “She hated you at first, but she’s come to terms with what happened now. She wants to see you.” His fingers threaded into her hair, massaged her scalp as if he’d known somehow she needed him to touch her right there.

What was he doing to her? Claire drew away from his touch, needing to keep her head clear. “How do you know she’s come to terms with anything? If she has, why didn’t she let me know?”

“She didn’t know how to find you. You’d changed your name. She had no idea where you were.” Even though he was no longer touching her, the intensity in his eyes reached out to her, refused to let her go. “When she heard about what happened here, she still had no idea it was you until your picture was flashed all over the news.”

Claire swiped at her cheeks. How did he know all this? Wait, they had been watching her sister’s home. Probably monitoring everything she did and said, monitoring her phone calls for threats. Not that Claire resented what they’d done; she didn’t. But this was too much. All of it. The children. Nusair.
Him.

“There’s no time for this.” She couldn’t handle anything else. It was too just much. Nusair could call again at any moment. The last thing she
wanted was her sister anywhere even close to the line of fire.

Krueger wrapped his long fingers around her hand again. That sweet, relentless gesture tugged at every part of her that made her a woman. The urge to throw herself in his arms was an agonizing ache inside her no matter how badly she wanted to deny it.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he murmured as he pulled her closer still.

“The only deal I want to make is with Nusair,” she argued, trying to hang on to her courage. More lies designed to cover the vulnerability she felt. She seemed to be doing a lot of lying lately. She hoped the good Lord took the circumstances into consideration when she reached the Pearly Gates…if she even got that far.

“You see your sister,” Krueger said, his forehead touching hers, his lips so close, “and I’ll make sure we reach a compromise on the way we do this thing with Nusair that accomplishes just what you want to make happen.”

She looked up, deep into those emerald eyes. “How can you make a promise like that?” Her pulse reacted to the memory of how his kiss had swept her so far away from this ugly reality. Even the way his fingers curled around hers made her want to pretend all of it away.

His lips spread into a full-fledged smile. Nice teeth, she noted to her dismay. She was totally taken with this man. All these years she had been happy alone because she’d been certain that she deserved no better…and now she wanted so much more and it was too late.

“I still have to work out a few details, but I’m certain what I have in mind will work. You have to trust me, Claire. Can you do that?” He squeezed her hand, sending a wave of warmth in to quell the fears clawing at her. The hope in his eyes made her want to say yes.

Other than Darlene, Claire hadn’t trusted anyone in a very long time. He was asking a lot.

“Okay. But don’t make me regret it, Krueger. I did too much of that in the past.”

He reached up with his free hand and gently touched her lips. “You won’t regret it. You have my word.” And then he placed a chaste kiss there. “I don’t want there to be any regrets between us.”

She looked deeply his eyes. “Promise me that if I make it through this, you won’t just walk away and pretend you never said that, Krueger. I need to know that.”

Another of those beautiful smiles claimed his lips. “There’s no way I’m walking away.”

T
hirty minutes later Claire waited alone in the parlor of the hotel suite for her sister’s arrival. The initial shock had worn off but she still couldn’t quite believe her sister had come.

Talkington and the other agents were working in the suite across the hall. Claire had learned that Krueger not only had this suite and the one across the hall, but he also had the rooms on either side of this one. That prevented anyone from getting close to her while she was here.

The team was reviewing surveillance tapes and tracking calls and God knows what else in an
attempt to pinpoint Nusair’s location or any movement out of his people. Krueger was convinced he was in the city. Claire had thought so as well that morning at her demolished house. He’d spoken as if he were watching her. Krueger had explained that Nusair might have been watching her via a surveillance device operated by some of his men who were close by.

Krueger had other reasons for believing Nusair was in Seattle. An airport facial recognition scanner had locked in on an arriving passenger who proved a thirty percent match to Nusair. The arriving passenger, Henry Vaughn, was supposedly French and had arrived in Seattle from an airport in Paris.

His arrival had coincided with the right time frame. He’d landed in Seattle-Tacoma’s airport, Sea-Tac, approximately twelve hours after Habib was killed. Sufficient time for him to have heard the news and made travel arrangements.

Henry Vaughn had subsequently vanished. The FBI had gotten word of his arrival too late to track him.

They’d run a check on the name
Henry Vaughn
and come up with a French businessman who came to America two or three times a year for business purposes. He’d listed connections and contacts with several American companies, none
of which had panned out. No one admitted to knowing a Henry Vaughn.

Vaughn’s travel to the U.S. during the past two years coincided with cities where known Nusair cells operated. Apparently Vaughn had been traveling in and out of major U.S. airports without notice for four years. Visual-recognition technology hadn’t been in place in some airports until more recently so that may have been the reason. Still, it was hard to believe the man came and went so easily with no one noticing.

To Claire, that was the scariest part of all.

Krueger had updated her on the security at her school. Every hour the grounds and facility were searched for threats. The buses, the arriving vehicles, nothing went unsearched. The male students who were only sons were still homebound. There were twenty; each home was under FBI surveillance.

Hamid Kaibar still refused to talk. Krueger continued to believe that he would if Nusair were out of the picture. With Nusair taken out of the scenario, Kaibar would be much better off cutting a deal. Bashir Rafsanjani, who had escaped from the school the day of the attack, was still at large.

If they could just take down Nusair, the rest would fall into place.

Nusair had made no attempt to contact Claire
since the incident at Port Townsend early that morning. Three hours had passed and she hoped they still had a little more time. But she couldn’t count on anything.

She needed more time.

For the first time in six years she would see her sister again. Considering what would likely come next, it might be her only opportunity.

Six years ago, Claire had been a second-year teacher at the elementary school in her hometown. Her sister had been married and eight months pregnant. Since Claire had returned from college she had recognized that something was wrong with Whitney’s husband. He’d always been a jerk and she’d known it. But this was way more than that. She had him pegged as bipolar. Whitney adamantly denied the possibility. Still, the bruises and raging fights, along with his mood swings, escalated.

Claire had understood that her sister was in denial. Since their mother had passed away when Whitney was just twelve years old, Claire had been the mother in a lot of ways. As Whitney had gotten older she had resented that. Claire almost didn’t go away for college, things had gotten so bad with her sister’s behavior, but her father had insisted. Going away had proven to be a mistake.

When she’d learned that her sister had dropped out of school and gotten married, Claire was mor
tified. But it was done. Whitney resented her meddling and made her feelings quite clear. Claire had resumed her studies and tried to put the worries out of her mind.

On graduation day, her sister and father had both been there, her sister sporting a black eye behind her sunglasses, her father with two cracked ribs for stepping in the way of Tad the bully.

Claire had accepted a job at home to be close to her father and her sister, whether her sister wanted her or not. Six months later their father was dead of a heart attack. Claire had no doubt that his death had been hastened by the behavior of his youngest daughter’s insane husband.

Tad Farmer was a dud of a son, a dud of a husband, and he would have been a dud of a father.

When Whitney had finally come to Claire, scared for her life, Claire had made a decision. Tad would not hurt her sister again. Whitney was all that Claire had left. She would not stand for his abuse any longer.

The district attorney had tried to turn that around and call it motivation, premeditation actually. But Claire’s attorney, an old friend of the family, had known the judge for far longer than the district attorney had. Claire was certain that relationship was the only reason she hadn’t faced a trial.

The charges had been dropped. Tad’s death was ruled as self-defense.

Claire had gained her life but lost her sister.

A quick rap on the door announced that Nance had arrived with her sister. Claire pushed away thoughts of the past and stood. She took a deep breath and prepared for whatever happened. She assumed if her sister had come that she was worried about her…but she couldn’t be certain. Maybe Whitney wanted to throw this latest incident in her face and call her a killer as she had the last time they’d seen each other.

Claire was being irrational. Her sister would not come this far to do that. No matter. She didn’t want to get her hopes up and be disappointed.

There were times in the past six years that Claire had dreamed of this moment coming about in some way. She just hadn’t ever really believed it would happen. She wasn’t sure she believed it now.

And she definitely hadn’t considered that, once it did come to be, the reunion might very well be the last time she ever saw her sister again.

She crossed the room, steeled herself once more and opened the door.

She took in the sister she hadn’t laid eyes on in six long years.

Whitney had grown into a beautiful woman. She
wasn’t that kid sister Claire remembered anymore. Gone were the eyebrow ring and the trashy attire. She looked amazing and smart and
mature
.

“Hello, Christina.”

“Hello.” Claire was sure she should say more, but her brain wouldn’t string the words together. Instead, she opened the door wider for her sister to come in. She gestured to the seating area. “We can sit.”

Claire didn’t wait for an answer. She strode straight over to the sofa. Whitney moved a bit more hesitantly, finally choosing the chair directly across from Claire. Agent Nance closed the door, leaving them alone. It felt strange and at the same time wondrous.

“You look good, Christina.” Whitney managed a shaky smile. “I mean, Claire.”

For the first time since she’d made the decision, Claire regretted having changed her name. She’d done it in a moment of anger. She’d decided that if her sister wanted nothing to do with her that she might as well erase the person she used to be. Changing her last name would have been far more difficult, so she hadn’t bothered. She’d calmed down by that time. So long ago. Claire had changed a lot in that time, but not nearly as much as Whitney had if her appearance were any indicator.

“Thanks.” Claire managed a smile she hoped
didn’t look as strained as it felt. “You look great.” She moved her shoulders up and then down in surprise. “You’re all grown up.”

Whitney reached into her purse and pulled out a small photo album. “I thought you might want to see pictures of Christie.” She looked down at the album in her hand, traced the scrolling flowers that framed the words Precious Moments. “I named her after you.”

Claire’s heart started that insistent pounding and her eyes burned as if she’d gotten shampoo in them. “That’s very flattering.” She held out her hand and her sister placed the album there. Claire held it a moment, reluctant to open it. The notion was foolish, but she was so afraid that the wrong word or move would somehow turn back the clock to that last time they’d seen each other. The ugly words echoed even now in Claire’s head.

She ordered her mind to stop the torment. The past was over. This was now.

“She looks like you,” Whitney said as Claire flipped slowly through the photos.

“She’s too gorgeous to look like me,” Claire said more to herself than to her sister. The girl did have Claire’s wild mane. But then Whitney had a little of that, too. But there was her nose…her niece had Claire’s nose for sure. The smile did look a little familiar, she admitted.

“She’s so much like you,” Whitney pressed. “She even talks like you. It’s uncanny. I catch myself saying her name and thinking I’m talking to you.”

Claire reached the last photo, traced the precious face there, then closed the album and handed it back to her sister. “I know you’re very proud of her.”

Whitney nodded. She held out her left hand and showed off her ring. “I got married again.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears but there was joy in her words. “Reggie Stewart. He’s so good to me, Chri—Claire. You just wouldn’t believe how much he loves Christie. We have this beautiful house and I get to stay home with my daughter.”

Claire was glad. “That’s great.” All those times she’d dreamed of this moment, she hadn’t expected it to hurt this badly. Just sitting here looking at her sister, listening to her talk about her daughter and their life, was tearing Claire apart inside.

She’d missed all of it. None of it included her. It never would.

Whitney carefully placed the album back in her purse. She clasped her hands in her lap then and stared at them for a long moment. The red highlights in her dark hair complemented her porcelain complexion. She looked phenomenal in the royal-blue dress. She looked happy.

“When I heard,” Whitney began, her voice shook this time, “about the situation at the school and how you’d risked your life for that child, I knew…” She pressed her hands to her face for a moment in an effort to hold back the tears glittering in her eyes. “I knew,” she cried, “that you’d saved that child just like you saved me.” A sob choked out of her with the last.

Claire felt her own tears brim. Tissues. There had to be some around here somewhere. She got up, her movements mechanical, and went to the desk for the box there. The tissues would help. Once they’d calmed down everything would be fine. When she turned around Whitney was out of her chair and coming toward her.

“I was wrong,” she said raggedly. “You did what you did to save my life. To save my child’s life and I didn’t see that back then.” She trembled with the force of her emotions. “I was young and selfish and stupid. I was wrong.”

Claire offered her a tissue. Whitney didn’t seem to notice; her gaze was fixed on Claire’s.

“Can you forgive me, Christina…Claire?”

Claire placed the box of tissues back on the desk. This part she knew. She’d thought about this for a long time.

She leveled her bleary gaze on her sister’s. “There’s nothing to forgive, Whitney.” It was the
first time she’d spoken her sister’s name in years. “You did what you thought you had to do and so did I. Holding a grudge wouldn’t change what happened. You don’t need my forgiveness for the decision you made.”

Fighting back the growing sobs, Whitney shook her head and reached for Claire’s hands. “No. I was wrong. I shut you out of my life when I wouldn’t have had a life if you hadn’t stepped in and protected me the way you did. I made a mistake.”

Claire’s knees were a little wobbly. She had wanted to hear those words for so long and now that she had she was scared to death that somehow she’d misunderstood. That she would finally believe the ugly past was over and then find out it wasn’t.

“You killed that sorry son of a bitch and he deserved to die.” The passion behind those words startled Claire. “You gave up everything to make me happy and I was too stupid to appreciate any of it. Let me make that right, Claire. Let’s not let the past stand between us anymore. I love you. You’re my sister. I want you back in my life.”

But it was too late.

Claire held the words inside her. How could fate be so cruel? She finally had her sister back and now she had to go away…she had to die in order to stay alive. Was it really worth it?

Having her sister back was worth the world…even if for only a moment.

Whatever happened an hour from now, they had this minute. Claire threw her arms around her sister and held her close. “I’ve missed you.”

For a long time they stood there just like that, holding each other and crying. Then they wiped their eyes and talked and laughed about silly, insignificant things. And it was like it used to be…before the ugliness.

All too soon there was another knock on the door. Krueger didn’t wait for an invitation.

“Ladies, I’m sorry to cut your visit short, but we can’t put this off any longer.”

Fear gripped Claire. “He hasn’t taken another child, has he?”

“No. There’s been no movement, but we have to initiate preventive protocol
now.”

This was it.

He didn’t have to spell it out.

When she walked out this door she wouldn’t be coming back. She wouldn’t see her sister again.

Claire turned back to Whitney. “I’m sorry we don’t have more time.” She took her sister’s hands. “Darlene, my friend you met at school, has something for you.” The urge to cry all over again almost stole her newly gained composure.

Whitney’s face turned worried. “Where are
you going?” She glanced at Krueger. “What’s happening now?”