Читать книгу Safe Passage - Лорет Энн Уайт, Loreth White Anne - Страница 8

Scott cut the engine, crawled silently to a stop in the peripheral shadows along the outside of the compound.

He watched Skye park her gleaming bike under harsh sulphur lights that flooded the fenced parking lot of the Kepplar lab complex on the outskirts of Haven.

Honey remained motionless at his side. Scott stroked the dog’s head, watched Skye remove her helmet, shake out a wave of dark hair. Even under the flat whiteness of industrial lights, her hair shimmered, alive with burnished highlights.

He watched as she strode openly, confidently, up to the main entrance of the building, helmet tucked under her arm.

He checked the glowing digits of his watch. Three-fifteen. What in hell was she doing here at this hour?

A security guard stepped out from under the portico. Scott saw him exchange words with Skye. The guard nodded. His teeth glinted as his smile caught the lights. Skye laughed at something he said. She slotted what Scott imagined was a coded identity card into a panel. The building doors opened. They slid smoothly shut behind her. The guard retreated to his cubicle under the portico. All was still.

Scott shifted his throbbing knee into a more comfortable position and settled back in his seat to wait. This surveillance business was crap.

A movement caught his eye. He tensed. So did Honey. The dog peered intently out the window. Another vehicle. Silver Mercedes. It crawled down the road toward the fenced lab compound, turned into the gates, cruised quietly to the far end of the parking lot and came to a stop.

Then nothing.

Scott noted the plates, reached for his sat phone and punched in the code to activate the scrambler. The red LED indicator showed voice encryption had been initiated. His satellite communication was secure.

“Logan,” Scott rasped into the piece.

“Jeez, you have any idea what time it is, Agent?”

“Desk life making you soft, buddy?”

Rex ignored the gibe. “What’s up?”

“I need a plate run.”

“Couldn’t wait until morning?”

“It is morning.”

“Don’t tell me…you’re pissed with the job.”

“The plate?”

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled. “Let me find a pen here somewhere… All right, shoot. Oh, and next time, call Scooter direct.”

Scott chuckled inwardly. This would teach his boss for making him report to him direct. “Sorry. Haven’t got Scooter’s home number.” He gave Rex the plate number, flipping the phone shut as the door to the Mercedes opened.

A man stepped out. Dark, well over six feet, and tough-looking. He strode to the entrance. There was something threatening in his movements.

Scott’s knee-jerk instinct was to get out and follow the guy into the building, to make sure Skye was okay. But he forced himself back against the truck seat. His brief was to watch. And she was a suspect.

Not a victim.

Skye hadn’t been able to shake the deep sense of unease that pulsed low in her core. Sleep had remained elusive. She’d tried. Tossed and turned. But her thoughts had scrambled over each other like wild, hungry, teething puppies.

Work, she’d decided, was her only salvation. It was the only thing that kept her going forward. The only thing that made her forget the past.

The only thing that dulled her latent fear.

She placed the minute beetle carefully under the microscope, adjusted the focus. It was so tiny. So perfect. So very beautiful in its own way. If everything went according to plan, these little bugs would lead an army and conquer the enemy blight in its path. She adjusted the scope, bent closer.

A sound at the far end of the darkened lab crashed into her thoughts.

She jerked back, knocking a petri dish off the counter. It clattered to the floor, the sound disproportionately loud in the deserted laboratory.

Skye peered into the night shadows.

Her heart thumped a steady beat against her chest wall. Nothing. No movement.

She chided herself, turned back to her beetle. The Kepplar labs were perfectly safe. Even at night. Still, more than ten years down the road and she hadn’t stopped looking over her shoulder. She was still seeing ghosts in shadows. Hearing sounds in the night. Afraid he’d find her.

Then she heard it again.

She froze. “Who’s there?” She could hear the brittle edge of panic in her own voice.

Neon light flooded the lab, exploded into her brain.

She blinked against the brightness.

Jozsef stood beside the light switch, a wide grin on his face. “What you doing working in the dark at this ungodly hour, Dr. Van Rijn?”

Skye sucked her breath in slowly, trying to steady her popping nerves. “Good grief, Jozsef, you startled me. What in heaven are you doing here? When did you get back?”

He walked forward, arms behind him. “I thought I’d find you at home. I didn’t. So I came looking here.”

“You could’ve tried my cell.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He grinned broadly. “What are you working on so late…or should I say so early?”

“My beetles,” she snapped defensively, anger edging out fear.

“The ones for the whitefly epidemic?”

“Jozsef, how did you get in?”

He laughed, held up an access card.

“That’s mine. That’s my spare.” She reached for it.

Jozsef held it playfully out of reach. “You left it at my place, sweetheart.”

“I thought I’d misplaced it. Besides, you still had to get by security.”

“When’s that ever stopped me.” He smiled warmly, slipping the card into his back pocket.

Skye frowned.

“C’mon, Skye.” He lifted a hand, brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek. “Marshall Kane gave me the all-clear with security. They know I’m with you.”

She hesitated, suddenly strangely unsure of the man in front of her. The man she was going to marry. “I bet Marshall didn’t think you’d be trying to get in here after hours.”

Jozsef shrugged. “Enough of this already. You’re way too jumpy.” He stepped closer. “Besides, I got a surprise for you. Guess.” His words were warm against her ear.

Skye forced a smile. “What?”

“I said guess.”

She sighed. “A rose?”

“Nope.”

“Chocolate?”

“Come on, Doctor, I’m a little more original than that. You got one more guess.”

“I give up. Look, we should go. You really shouldn’t be in here—”

Jozsef Danko raised a finger to her lips. “Shh.” He winked. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” With his other hand he brought a small box out from behind his back. It was a deep burgundy-red. He set it on the lab counter, a smile playing around his dark eyes. “Open it, Doctor.”

The light in the man’s eyes was infectious. Skye relented. She peeled off her latex gloves, picked up the box and lifted the lid. Nestled in shiny black satin was a tiny gold bug with glittering emerald eyes. It hung from a gold chain.

She looked up at Jozsef. “You get it in Europe?”

“It’s a little token to celebrate the completion of your big project.”

“I’m not finished yet. They’ll only be ready for release in another two weeks.”

“Yes. But the bulk of your work is done, not so?”

“I guess.” She lifted the chain and pendant from the box. “It’s so unusual. Where’d you find it?”

“I had it made. Here, I’ll put it on for you.”

Skye lifted her hair, bent her head forward as Jozsef fastened the clasp behind her neck.

She turned to face him. “What you think?”

“Take a look in the mirror.”

“There isn’t one.”

“There is, in the washroom. Go on. Humor me. I’ll wait here.”

Skye made her way to the bathroom, pushed open the door. She stared at her reflection under the harsh washroom lights. It was certainly a perfectly proportioned little bug. And knowing Jozsef, the gold of the carapace nestled at the hollow of her throat was as real as the glittering emerald eyes of the beetle. It really was perfect. But it wasn’t her. It didn’t go with her coloring. She preferred silver.

She shrugged. So what? It showed he cared. It showed he’d gone to the trouble of finding something tailored specifically for her.

When had anyone ever done that?

But a little niggle of doubt ate at her as she headed back down the empty corridor to her lab, the heels of her boots echoing in the empty gloom. It summed up her relationship. Jozsef Danko seemed so perfect, but everything about him was always just slightly off center. It hadn’t worried her before. But today it did. Maybe she was making a mistake. Maybe she just needed a holiday. The stress of this project had been getting to her.

Or maybe she’d just been unsettled by the mysterious man who’d moved in next door.

She shoved open the lab door, gasped.

Jozsef had the lid to the box of larvae open. She rushed forward. “What are you doing?”

He glanced up, smiled that nonchalant smile of his. “Just peeking at your babies.”

“You shouldn’t—”

“Oh, come on. It can’t hurt. So, do you like your pendant?”

“Yes.” She moved over to make sure the lid to the larvae was properly secured. The ugly little grubs, her pride and joy, represented a fortune to Kepplar Biological Control Systems. And there was stringent protocol on secrecy. A leak could spell the loss of millions. She couldn’t understand why Marshall would clear anyone with security. Even her fiancé. It just didn’t make sense.

“Come.” She turned to Jozsef. “Let’s get out of here before you ruin me.”

Jozsef chuckled. “Now that would be the last thing on my mind.” He lifted his hand and brushed her cheek softly with the backs of his fingers. “Come, let’s go grab some breakfast. My place or yours?”

Skye hesitated. “Actually, Jozsef, I’m really tired…and I’ve got a meeting with Marshall in a couple of hours.”

He studied her face. Then he nodded. “Sure.” He took her arm. “It’s okay, I understand.”

Skye felt everything but sure. Or okay.

Jozsef halted at the door, grasped her shoulders, turned her to face him. “Skye—”

The sudden severity in his eyes startled her. “What?”

“Promise me you’ll wear that beetle always. No matter what happens. Can you promise me that?”

She reached up, fingered the gold carapace. “Why? What’s going to happen, Jozsef?”

“Just make me that promise.”

She tried to read his eyes. Couldn’t. “All right,” she said tentatively. “I’ll wear your beetle…no matter what happens.”

Scott’s phone beeped. He flicked it open. “Yeah.”

“The plate’s registered to a Jozsef Danko.”

“That was quick.”

“He’s in the system. Landed immigrant, a Hungarian national. Investor, stockbroker, importer-exporter, all-round international businessman. Travels a lot. Works from an office out of his residence. Wonder why an international player like him has set himself up in a place like Haven.”

“He found something to keep him here. He’s getting married morning after next.”

“What?”

“He’s the fiancé.”

“What fiancé?”

“Dr. Van Rijn’s.”

Silence. “We didn’t know there was a fiancé.” There was a new bite in Rex Logan’s voice.

Scott felt a wry smile tug at his mouth. The Bellona boss was suddenly taking this mission a little more seriously. “Well, there is one. And do me a favor. Have someone check into Danko’s recent investment history.”

“Why?”

“A hunch. I think these two may be working together.” Scott flipped his phone shut as two figures emerged from the Kepplar lab building. Danko and Skye.

Jozsef Danko walked her over to her bike. Scott noticed his arm around her slim waist. Something in his stomach tightened.

Danko leaned down as if to kiss her but she moved abruptly, positioning her helmet on her head as if she hadn’t noticed his intention. It gave Scott an unexplained jolt of satisfaction.

Danko’s vehicle exited the Kepplar compound, turned left. Skye, on her Harley, turned right. Scott followed the bike.

The doctor rode home at a ridiculous speed. Scott turned down a side road and approached his house from the opposite direction as pale gray fingers of dawn reached over the distant sea.

He had just fed Honey, sunk down onto the sofa with a mug of coffee and fresh ice pack when he was jolted by a banging at his door.

He sat up, winced. His knee felt like a bloody water-filled balloon after the box-carrying episode last night. He dragged his hands through his hair, reached for his cane, pushed himself to his feet.

The banging got louder.

“All right, already!” He limped over to the door, threw it open.

And froze.

Dr. Skye Van Rijn stood there in a soft pale pink sweater, fresh as a freaking daisy after her night of sneaking around in the dark. She smiled up at him with those lightly glossed lush lips. Her eyes were as pale silver and lambent as the monochromatic dawn sky.

Something shifted in his belly. He pulled the door closer to his body, hiding the dossier, her personal details scattered all over his living room coffee table.

“Mornin’,” he said slowly.

Her eyes flicked over him, taking in his rumpled clothes. “Doesn’t look like you got much sleep.”

He shrugged.

She waited.

He said nothing.

“Your truck wasn’t here early this morning.”

“I work odd hours. Needed to chase my muse this morning. Went for a drive.”

She bit her bottom lip, studied him with those crystal-clear eyes. “I see.”

He shifted slightly, held the door closer.

“I thought you might need that.” She turned and pointed to a dolly she’d left alongside his truck still loaded with gear. “I had one in my garage.” She angled her head, looked back up at him, a twinkle playing in the silver of her eyes. Amusement tugged at one side of her mouth. “I had a hunch you weren’t going to ask anyone for help unpacking.”

She’d floored him. Again. He scrambled for composure. “Thanks.” He said no more. Waited.

“Well, I’m off to work, then. You coming tomorrow, around eight?”

“Tomorrow?”

“My wedding reception.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Well, have a good day, then.” Her top lip twitched slightly as if at some secret joke. “Happy writing.”

Was there mockery in her tone? Challenge in her voice?

“Happy doing whatever it is scientists in Haven do,” he answered.

She halted, as if unwilling to leave just yet. She turned back to face him. “I do research and development. I work mostly with insects and design biological control measures for the agriculture and horticulture industries.”

“You mean, you create assassin bugs?”

She laughed that deep, smoky laugh. “That’s cute, McIntyre. Yes, I find and develop little predators.”

“I see.” He allowed his eyes to walk slowly, obviously, over her utterly amazing body. “I’d never have pegged you for a bug lady.”

She laughed again, a little less sure. “A bug lady? What’s a ‘bug lady’ supposed to look like?”

Scott smiled, holding her eyes. “Not like you.”

For a moment their gazes locked. A silent, primal current swelled, surged between them.

Then she broke the moment. “And there I was, wondering what a typical futurist looked like.” She turned in a fluid movement and strode down the rutted driveway. Scott couldn’t help but watch the way her firm buttocks moved under the denim fabric of her jeans, couldn’t help the soft pulse of warmth in his groin.

“Oh.” She stopped suddenly and swung round.

He braced.

“I meant to tell you, nice Web site.”

Scott closed the door deliberately, quietly.

And blew out a stream of breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Thank God. Rex’s boys must have placed some cyber-litter for his cover. It made sense that a woman like Skye would check him out on the Internet. Especially if she was hiding something.

He leaned heavily on his cane, looked down at the dog waiting patiently at his feet. “We’d better use the doctor’s dolly to unpack that computer gear and get connected.” He limped over to where his jacket hung across the back of the sofa. “That is, once we’ve made sure work is where she really is headed this morning.” He picked up his keys, bounced them once in his hand. And he couldn’t help grinning. The woman was a challenge he didn’t mind right about now. She was up to something, sure as hell. And he’d find out what. He’d prove Agent Armstrong still had what it took. This little game was gonna buy him a ticket back out into the field.

The real field.

The jitters in her stomach were still there. And her neighbor wasn’t helping matters. Skye pulled into the Kepplar parking lot, dismounted, yanked off her helmet. She should never have taken him that dolly. But seeing that big pile of boxes still in the back of the truck this morning had tugged something inside her. She’d wanted to reach out, to help. She’d also been curious. Because when she’d come back from the lab in the dark hours of dawn, his truck had not been there. And that only added to the strange cocktail of anxiety skittering through her system.

But taking him that dolly was definitely a mistake. Because seeing Scott McIntyre at the door, ruffled, sleepy, and all get-out sexy, in the same clothes he’d worn the night before, had stirred something else deep within her.

Something that manifested in a potent fusion of basic female desire and a maternal need to care. Both were parts of herself she’d locked away more than ten years ago.

In a few short hours Scott McIntyre was digging them out. Scratching at her veneer. And she knew what lay beneath was too raw and malignant to ever be exposed.

Besides, she couldn’t afford to be distracted now. Her beetle project was close to completion.

And she was getting married in the morning.

Skye shoved her emotions aside, pushed open the lab door and shrugged into her white coat. She was early, but Charlotte, her assistant, had arrived even earlier and was already busy at her microscope.

“Hey, Charly, getting a head start?”

The blond woman looked up, smiled. Skye had allowed herself to get close to Charly, closer than she really was comfortable with. A part of her craved the kind of open, genuine and honest friendship so many women shared. The other part of her was afraid she’d let something slip. She wished, at times, she could let her guard drop, her hair loose and just be free to share. Staying vigilant required energy. Concentration. Sometimes she just got tired.

Very tired.

Maybe that’s why she was marrying Jozsef. She could be with him, play the part of a regular woman, without opening up. He was like that. And marrying him would help seal her cover. Help her hide.

“What’re you doing here, Skye? Working right up until the day of the wedding? You should be pampering yourself at the spa, hon. Not poking at beetles and grubs.”

Skye made a face, motioned with her eyes to the ceiling. “Marshall wanted to meet with me this morning, discuss the project. Besides, I need to check on their progress.”

“The critters are doing just fine. You’ve worked magic again, Doctor. There’s nothing more for you to do but wait for the first shipments to mature.”

“Let’s hope they can stand the cooler temperatures.”

“That little gene seems to have done the trick. The control group is still thriving.”

The phone on the wall rang. “Yeah,” said Skye, reaching for the receiver, “but the ultimate test will be in the field. Dr. Van Rijn,” she said crisply into the receiver.

“Marshall, here. You ready to meet?”

“I’ll be right up.”

She hung up, rolled her eyes heavenward. “God has spoken.”

Charly grinned. “Have fun…oh, I almost forgot, Jozsef was here earlier.”

Skye stopped dead in her tracks. “Jozsef?”

Again?

“Why?”

“Looking for you.”

Skye frowned. “He knew I was home.”

“He probably forgot. The guy’s excited. Give the poor man a break. Tomorrow he gets a wife.”

Skye turned, started to push the lab door open but stopped midway, her mind racing. “What time was he here?”

“Jozsef?”

“Yes. Jozsef. Who else?” She heard the snip in her voice. So did Charly, from the look on her face.

“I don’t know. He was already in the lab when I arrived. Security let him in like always.” Charly stood. “What’s eating you?”

Skye shoved the door fully open. “Nothing. Wedding nerves.” But that little niggle was back, biting, probing deeper into the dark depths of her subconscious. She forced it down. She had work to do. An agricultural epidemic to halt. She strode down the corridor to the elevator.

The director of Kepplar Biological Control Systems was waiting.