Читать книгу John Doe on Her Doorstep - Debra Webb - Страница 12

Chapter Three

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Ghost Mountain

Center

O’Riley looked up from his desk. Dupree stood in his doorway. A surge of adrenaline disrupted the calm rhythm of his heart. “You have something?” If it was another reason they should assume Adam was dead, O’Riley might just snatch the Colt .45 from his middle desk drawer and shoot the depressingly anal-retentive pencil pusher right where he stood.

Dupree flipped through the pages of the status report in his hand as if he needed to quickly review what he was about to say. O’Riley wasn’t going to like it, otherwise Dupree wouldn’t be stalling.

“The rental car has been recovered.”

Damn. “And?”

“The guy who stole it says it was a simple robbery. He and his friends set it up to look as if a woman with a small child had had engine trouble. Apparently they’ve done this on that particular stretch of road before. The local authorities have been trying to catch them for months.” Dupree swallowed hard. “Anyway, a man matching Adam’s description stopped to see if he could help and they overtook him.”

O’Riley lifted a skeptical brow. “Overtook him?” That was highly unlikely. Enforcers had heightened senses; they weren’t easily overtaken.

“The two men had guns,” Dupree hastened to explain.

A bad feeling welled in O’Riley’s chest. “Did they kill him?”

Dupree shrugged. “We don’t know for certain. Apparently, they worked him over pretty good with a tire iron and left him for dead in a ravine. Recon is already on their way to the site. We should know something within the hour.”

“Keep me posted,” O’Riley said by way of dismissal.

Dupree offered a curt nod and took his leave.

Fury whipped through O’Riley. Every instinct told him that Adam was alive. He glanced at the digital clock on his desk, the one his ex-wife had given him for a divorce present. She’d said it was to remind him of what he’d given up by spending all his time at work. He wondered if anyone would ever know just how much he’d sacrificed. O’Riley leaned back in his chair and banished thoughts of the woman he’d loved and lost. He missed her, that was true enough. But this was his life. She hadn’t understood that simple fact. He doubted anyone other than the people involved with Center would ever understand. But on days like this he wondered…

He shook off the foolish sentiment—5:05 p.m. He would have an update on Adam in the next sixty minutes. Between now and then, he had another matter to follow up on—the search for Joseph Marsh, Center’s other traitor in all this. Wherever that son of a bitch was, O’Riley wanted him found and executed, after a proper interrogation, of course. Although it had taken someone close to Archer on a personal level to achieve the ultimate goal, O’Riley had a feeling that responsibility for Daniel Archer’s death lay squarely on Marsh’s shoulders. Why else would Marsh disappear so abruptly?

If Adam were dead, considering what they had so far, they couldn’t connect that to Marsh. Still, O’Riley had every intention of seeing that he paid dearly for whatever he had done.

All O’Riley had to do was find him.

Virginia

Archer Ranch

BY DARK that evening, Dani had accomplished more than she had in the past twelve days. Her father’s personal belongings were now packed in cedar-lined boxes and stored in his room.

She’d tried to start organizing things the day after he was buried, but she hadn’t gotten very far. Fierce emotions would keep her from returning to the task for days at a time. Now, it was finally finished. All that her father had been was now carefully stored away for safekeeping. She couldn’t bring herself to donate his clothing. Though he’d had elegant taste and there were surely people who could benefit from his wardrobe, she just couldn’t part with anything yet. As long as his things were here, it was as if he might somehow walk through the front door again. As if a part of him remained.

Dani stood in the middle of his study now and wondered if she could handle doing any part of this room today. The last time she’d tried, a couple of days ago, she’d ended up on a crying jag that lasted for hours. Firming her resolve, she surveyed the room. She couldn’t fathom any reason to disturb his books. Rich wood shelving lined three walls, leaving room only for the door, while windows that looked out over the grazing pastures, the big red barn right off the pages of a New England calendar and the evergreen mountains beyond lined the fourth. Everything was just as he’d left it.

The books, plaques and awards would stay as they were, she decided. She stared morosely at his antique mahogany desk and the framed photograph that held a place of honor there. She didn’t have to pick it up and look at it. She knew it well. It was the last picture taken of her mother. Dani had been ten. They’d gone fishing and she’d caught her first fish. Two days later, her mother was dead.

Fighting back the tears, Dani forced her attention back to the problem at hand. Sorting through his office. She would leave most everything, just not the files. Especially this file. She stared at the odd little electronic storage stick in her hand, still confused by what it contained. She’d never known him to use this sort of storage. The stick was about two inches long and looked like the ones used in digital cameras, which, when inserted into the right plug in one’s computer, held the downloaded images captured by the camera. Most of his files were stored on the usual disks and CDs and locked away safely in the basement. He’d ensured that his personal research files from his life’s work were properly safeguarded when he retired. Order had been her father’s middle name. Everything had its place. But this one file…it just didn’t make sense—in more ways than one.

After skirting the large desk, she settled into the soft leather chair and loaded it onto the computer. She’d retrieved it from its original hiding place and brought it into the office with her now to decide what to do with it. She scrolled through a couple of screens that were labeled the Eugenics Project. Like the ones in the basement vault it was encrypted and dated. But unlike the others, which corresponded with the early years of his career, the date on this one was recent. Why would her father have been working on another government program? He was retired. Maybe he’d been consulting? She supposed that was a possibility.

At the funeral, Mr. O’Riley, her father’s former director, had said that he hadn’t talked to him in months. And her father certainly wouldn’t have been discussing a top secret government program with anyone except those with proper clearance. And this project was clearly marked Top Secret. Even stranger, she’d found this odd little file hidden inside the vacuum cleaner. If she hadn’t thought the bag was full she would never have opened the canister and checked. The vault in the basement was for safekeeping his work and other personal documents, such as his will, the deed to the property, etc. Why hide this one in the vacuum cleaner, of all places? None of it made sense.

At first, she’d felt certain that he’d put the file there ages ago and forgotten about it. But the creation date on the file, as well as the day and time stamp on the single recorded call on the audiotape, indicated October second of this year, which negated that idea. The file had been stored in its unlikely hiding place the day before her father died. She hadn’t found it until three days ago when she’d gone on a cleaning frenzy. Dani had scanned a couple of screens and realized that the information was off limits. She hadn’t looked at it again until now—not that she could make head or tail of it anyway since it was encrypted. A couple of times she’d considered calling Mr. O’Riley, but for one reason or another she hadn’t gotten around to it.

The audiotape was a minicassette, like the ones used in the dinosaur of an answering machine right here on her father’s desk. Her father’s personal answering machine, as well as the wall phone in the kitchen, was far from the newest technology.

Dani dragged her fragmented thoughts away from the past and refocused on the tape. Knowing the cryptic call had come in the day before her father’s accident made her feel oddly uneasy. The man, whose voice she didn’t recognize, had sounded almost frantic. As if on autopilot she put the tape into the machine and pressed the play button to listen to it again now. She didn’t know why she tortured herself.

“Archer, call me ASAP. It’s extremely important. It’s about the Eugenics Project. I think we’re in trouble.”

The caller had left a number but no name. On impulse, Dani had called the number the first time she’d listened to the tape. She’d gotten a computerized voice mail requesting that she leave a message. She had. She’d informed the caller that her father had passed away, but that she had the file he’d called about if he still wanted it. She left her name and number and suggested that he call her back as soon as possible. After all, she did have a life to get back to, even if she had been putting off making her decision. She recognized that she couldn’t stay holed up here forever. It was well past time she finished with the task of settling her father’s affairs. And yet, she was still here…putting off what she realized with complete certainty she needed to do.

In the three days since she’d left the message, though, no one had returned her call about the file. Oddly, she’d immediately regretted making that call. The file was marked Top Secret…she wasn’t even supposed to have been looking at it. Her father had never involved her in his work. He wouldn’t want her involved in it now, but she’d felt compelled to settle all his affairs. She sighed. She didn’t want to let him down…not in any way. She hadn’t meant to violate security. She had no way of knowing if the caller was even cleared for viewing the file…but then, he’d called it by name. Maybe she was making this harder than it needed to be. She had a responsibility to settle her father’s affairs.

Dani picked up the receiver and entered the string of numbers again. The same computerized voice asked her to leave a message. She hung up.

I think we’re in trouble.

She’d worked hard not to tack too much significance to that statement. It might not mean anything. But why were the file and the tape hidden in such a manner? If her father hadn’t been consulting on a project, then what had he been doing? If she knew the caller’s name, that would help. The whole situation was too cloak-and-daggerish.

Dani shoved her fingers into her hair and massaged her aching skull. She did not want to think along those lines. Her father had been a loyal, highly respected civil servant. The sheer number of plaques and certificates in this very room attested to that. He was much loved by his counterparts. She had attended several social functions where he was the man of the hour. His research, though top secret, was, from all indications, unparalleled. She’d been there for his retirement party. Everybody had loved Daniel Archer. There was no reason to believe differently now.

I think we’re in trouble.

Why did her instincts have to start plaguing her now? Her father had died two weeks ago. If he’d been involved in anything risky, she would have known it by now. O’Riley would have told her.

What was she thinking? She gave herself a good mental scolding. If her father was involved in a government project, then it was on the up-and-up, end of subject.

Dani started to push away from the desk, but something in her peripheral vision snagged her attention. The final line of text on the screen. Termination. A frown tugged at her mouth. The information on the first few screens had been encrypted, but this part wasn’t. She scrolled down a little farther. She quickly read the text. It was a report by Joseph Marsh, an old colleague of her father’s. She vaguely recognized the name. Why hadn’t she looked this far before? She exhaled a weary breath. Because it had been marked Top Secret. Her father had long ago ingrained in her the relevance of security measures. Besides, she had assumed it would all be encrypted.

Uneasiness stirred again in the pit of her stomach as she read the report a second time. It was about an animal training program and its possible termination. But phrases such as most imperative, life-altering and frightening consequences were used. Studying the screen more closely, she decided it was a faxed report her father had scanned into the file. Squinting to make out the tiny print along the edge of the scanned page, she also saw that the sending telephone number was the same as the one on the tape. I think we’re in trouble. This only confused her further. Was the caller Joseph Marsh? She searched her memory banks in an effort to remember his face or if she’d even met him before. Nothing came to her.

Her first thought when considering animal training was dogs or horses. Was the government using inhumane training procedures? If so, what did it have to do with her father? He was a scientist specializing in human genetic engineering. He didn’t train animals.

She stilled. Could her father have discovered that some sort of immoral genetic engineering was taking place using animals? She could definitely see him fighting to ensure the termination of a program he believed was wrong. The frown reached her forehead, etching deep furrows there. If that were the case, he would have gone to any lengths to stop it. He definitely wouldn’t have hidden the file or acted in secret. He would have gone straight to O’Riley. Her father had been a strong man. He would never have hidden his beliefs or his actions. Unless…

This couldn’t have anything to do with his accident…

Her heart pounded a little harder in her chest. She shook her head. No. That was ludicrous…unthinkable. She wasn’t generally the type to think along conspiracy lines.

This couldn’t be anything like that. No. It was ridiculous to even consider. She was tired, that’s all. The lingering smell of cherry blend pipe tobacco and sandalwood aftershave she’d endured while packing away her father’s personal belongings had her nerves raw. She needed something to eat and a long, hot bath. Now that she thought about it, the day had passed without her taking a break. She’d been too upset this morning to eat the muffins she’d gone to the trouble to make…had worked through lunch. No wonder she was so tired. Her body needed fuel.

She quickly closed the file and removed the storage stick from the computer. She started to drop both the stick and the tape into one of the desk drawers, but something she couldn’t quite name, a feeling, made her hesitate. Instead, she removed the tape from the machine, turned off the brass lamp and headed into the entry hall. She opened the door to the hall closet and knelt next to the vacuum cleaner. Carefully, she replaced the file and the tape where her father had hidden them.

“This is totally nuts,” she chastised herself softly as she got back to her feet and closed the door.

But somehow she felt better knowing it was secured in that way. Her father had hidden it for some reason. And he’d been no fool.

Determined to banish the unsettling thoughts about his last days, Dani turned toward the kitchen. Dinner and then upstairs for a nice long, hot bath. No more sorting and packing. No more conspiracy theories. Tonight, she was going to relax and maybe have a couple of glasses of wine. She might even find an old movie to watch.

And she would forget all about death and conspiracy.

IT WAS dark.

He was cold. Very cold. Pain. He needed to rest, but he was lost. His lids were so heavy he could barely keep his eyes open. The ache in his head pulsed with the beating in his chest.

Light. He could see light from…from a…place. He frowned at his inability to put a name to what he saw. Almost too weak to stand alone, he pushed away from the tree he’d been leaning against and went toward the light.

A long time passed before he reached it. He was so exhausted by the time he got there he wasn’t sure if he could go any farther. But he had to get inside…to the light. He would be safer there.

He stared at the door in front of him and tried to think of what to do. He wanted…needed…

He didn’t know what…he was tired…so tired.

DANI shivered.

“What is wrong with you, Dani?” She shook her head and took another bite of her sandwich. A heavy silence had invaded the house, or, at least, it somehow felt that way. Despite her best efforts, another shiver danced up her spine one vertebra at a time.

This was ridiculous. She wasn’t usually so jumpy.

Unable to help herself, her gaze shifted to the back door. It wasn’t locked. Well, duh. She rarely locked the doors until she went to bed. She tried to ignore the nagging feeling, but it just wouldn’t go away. She pushed away from the table, the chair legs scraping over the tiled floor, stood and walked straight to the door and locked it.

“Do you feel better now?” she muttered.

She dropped back into her chair, disgusted with herself. She never acted this way. What was wrong with her? Then it hit her. Rand’s hunting story had her spooked. That was it. Dani breathed a much-needed sigh of relief. The tale had been hanging around in the back of her mind and building up panic momentum all day. No wonder she was feeling out of sorts.

If the county had a halfway decent sheriff, she would have called and reported the incident. Though she trusted Rand’s and Cal’s judgment, she would feel a lot better if someone official checked out their story. But it wouldn’t be Sheriff Nichols. She’d already seen more of him than she cared to, and his men were no more welcome on her property than he was. Their allegiance was, of course, to their esteemed leader. She wasn’t about to give him a legitimate reason to come around. He might have fooled the locals into voting for him, but Dani knew the pervert behind the badge. How did a guy like him get elevated to a position of such authority? He was a lying, womanizing jerk.

Subject change. She wasn’t about to go down that road again. It had taken her months to get over the ulcer she’d developed five summers ago from when that low-life had attacked her and thought he’d get away with it. She had no intention of working herself up over him now. She was older and wiser.

Unable to finish her sandwich, Dani cleared the table and dropped the remainder of her meal into the trash. It was times like this that made her wish she had a dog. When she felt creeped out, she’d have someone to talk to. Plus, the dog would bark if anyone came around, giving Dani advance notice. But neither she nor her father had ever been able to stay here long enough to justify owning a dog. Finding someone to feed him wouldn’t be the problem, but she wouldn’t want the poor animal to be lonely.

Since the house sat empty more often than not, that was bound to happen, especially since it was just her now. She doubted she would be able to get back here for more than a few days at a time. She wondered if her father had lived if he’d have eventually gotten a dog. A pet would have kept him company since he’d taken up permanent residence on the ranch after retiring. It was only natural to have a dog in the country, wasn’t it? For lots of reasons other than security.

I think we’re in trouble.

Dani forced the unbidden thought away. She didn’t want to think about that any more tonight. She didn’t know what the file was about and there was no reason for her to need to know. Her father had stood steadfastly by that government rule. She never knew anything of his work except on the occasions when he was honored for some undisclosed milestone.

She rinsed her dishes and loaded the dishwasher. There wasn’t a full load yet so she opted not to start the cycle. Time for that bath now. Hopefully the hot water would melt away the rest of her tension. The wine she’d had with her meal was already making her feel warm inside.

She poured herself another glass and sipped it thoughtfully as she walked from the kitchen to the entry hall. The light from the kitchen lit her way well enough that she didn’t bother with the hall light. She shifted her glass to her left hand and started unbuttoning her blouse with her right.

If she was lucky, there might be one more envelope of raspberry-scented bath salts. God, that would be heavenly, she thought as she rounded the newel post at the bottom of the stairs.

She stilled when she would have taken the first step up. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She swallowed, then turned around slowly. Very slowly.

Someone stood in the shadows shrouding the front door.

Tall. A man. Her heart stalled in midbeat.

God, why hadn’t she locked the front door? Because no one around here locked doors.

He stepped out of the darkness. The dim glow that reached this end of the hall highlighted the chiseled features of his face. His clothing was torn and disheveled. Blood. Dried blood stained the right shoulder of his khaki shirt.

Dani’s eyes widened in fear. The urge to scream climbed into her throat.

She had to run. As if he’d read her mind, a strong hand snaked out and manacled her wrist.

She opened her mouth to cry out.

He swayed. She gasped, and then he crumpled to the floor.

John Doe on Her Doorstep

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