Chapter Thirteen

“I can’t believe they’re dead.”

“It’s our fault. We should have insisted on moving immediately.”

“The explosion was over long before the estimated time for the hit man to return. We screwed up. They screwed up. There’s enough failure here to spread around.” Brett added, “The assassin knew we were in that bunker.”

Jacie slumped in her seat. “But his information wasn’t good enough. Whoever was feeding it to him, didn’t know we sneaked off.”

“But he had information. That’s my point, Jace. We were pretty neatly tucked away. So were Ruffing and Bagwell.”

They looked away from the blackened heap that had been their bunker and stared at each other. Jacie tried to sort out the ramifications of this tragedy.

“The fire trucks have already left.” Brett tapped his fingers on the Camry steering wheel. “This happened just minutes after we slipped out. The hit man has inside information.”

He glanced at Jacie, “Right now he thinks we’re dead. Chances are the FBI thinks we’re dead. Believe it or not, for the time being, if we’re careful, I think we’re safe.”

Tearing her eyes away from the smoldering rubble, which they could see clearly, even parked this far away, Jacie said, “But he’s good, Brett. He won’t believe it for long.”

“Agreed. We’ve bought ourselves some time to get to the bottom of this. I’m not in favor of going to the cops or the FBI a second time. My confidence in them is severely challenged.”

Jacie nodded, “I’m with you, no cops. So, what’s left?”

“O’Donnell,” Brett said simply. He rested his elbow in the open car window frame and thought how often he’d been exposed to the sulfuric scent of destruction in the last two days. He would never smell anything like it again without his stomach turning.

Jacie rubbed her fingertips over her forehead like she was trying to massage some logic into the situation. “O’Donnell. A man we don’t know. Who is in protective custody, we don’t know where. Who is most likely being grilled by the FBI for the five hundredth time right now, so anything he knows is already being used by people far more skilled than we are, to try and unravel this mess.”

“I didn’t say he was much.” Brett started the car. “I just said he’s all we’ve got.”

Jacie quit kneading her brain and relaxed against the headrest. “It’s hopeless.”

“You’re wrong, it’s not hopeless. And you’re wrong about something else, we do know where he is.” Brett put the Camry in gear.

“We do?”

“Did I ever mention that part of my job in the war zone was covert intelligence?”

Jacie’s jaw dropped as she turned from the wreckage and stared at him. “I think I would have remembered that.”

Brett backed the car up and did a three point turn in the road. They’d seen the smoke from far off, and taken care to stay well away from the crime scene. “I hope you like mountains, ‘cuz we’re driving through a bunch of them.”

“On our way where?”

“Where else? Seattle.”

 

 

 

“What made you think to eavesdrop on them during the night?”

Brett shrugged, “I just don’t like turning my safety over to someone else. My job taught me to be real suspicious.”

“You were suspicious of cats and dogs?”

Smiling, Brett said, “No, before I became a vet, and after I did my stint in the war, I worked for Gormantech.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Most people haven’t. They do highly technical computer stuff, mostly contracted by the military. They hired a lot of security and they trained us well. I was one of them for a couple of years. Last night in that bunker, after you went to sleep, so peaceful and obedient…”

Jacie gave Brett a look so repressive he had to bite back a grin. “I stood outside their room in the safe house and listened.”

“And they never noticed you? They’re supposed to be experts. No wonder our mad bomber is having such an easy time.”

“It’s just like when the two of us sneaked out to go to the clinic. They never considered we’d try to leave. They were focused on keeping the bomber from getting in. We weren’t locked in our room and they never considered I’d be lurking in the hallway last night.”

“And they said Seattle?”

“Not exactly.”

Jacie studied Brett darkly for a long minute. He refused to speak until she said whatever nasty thing she was thinking.

“Tell me we are not going road tripping on some half-understood clue you gleaned while your ear was pressed to the door.”

“So, you’re saying if I was driving two thousand miles on a hunch you’d be upset?”

“Since I have a perfectly good policeman friend who would have helped us, and I’ve withdrawn half my life savings from my bank account...”

“You’re serious? At your age? Three thousand dollars is half?” He was starting to love making her mad.

He was one sick puppy.

“Seriously, look into an IRA or get a good stockbroker to create a portfolio for you. You need to be planning for your retirement and saving for a down payment on a house.”

Jacie practically growled at him, as she ignored his glib investment advice. “And withdrawing that money probably blew our ‘dead’ cover, too. I used my ATM card, Mr. Gremlin-tech Security Genius.”

“Gormantech. Gore man tech. Picture a bull goring a man. That’s how I remember it.”

“Trust you to bring animals into it. Just tell me you have a specific destination in mind.”

Brett rested one wrist loosely on the top of the steering wheel. He was starting to let go of the terrible tension that had been riding him since he saw the bombed out remains of their hiding place. “I heard Snoqualmie Falls.”

“Of course you did,” she said dryly.

“That can only mean one thing.”

“You’re deaf?”

“I heard the word Wenatchee.”

“And this reference is a clue because...?”

He couldn’t say actual lightning bolts were flashing out of her eyes, but he was definitely scorched by the glittering anger in her expression.

He doled her out another tiny clue, just to irritate her. He knew exactly where O’Donnell was, and he could just tell her straight out, but where was the fun in that? “I heard Adamson Lodge.”

Her hand clamped over his wrist, the one resting so easily on the wheel. “You’ve got quite a grip there.”

“I’m pretending it’s your neck.”

He smiled at her. He felt the blood flow to his hand being cut off. He had a sudden vision of spending the next fifty years making up with her after fights. “When is the last time you relaxed, and let someone else be in charge?”

“I was fifteen. When I came out of the anesthesia after surgery, I decided I’d had a belly full of letting someone else be in charge, and I swore it off.”

Brett’s heart softened when he thought of the price she’d paid during her childhood for someone else’s ambition. “I’m going to give you a break and tell you everything I know.”

“That won’t take long, as near as I can figure you’ve got the brain power of a hamster.”

“Actually hamsters are among the most intelligent species of rodent.”

“A brainy rodent. Sounds about right. So, why are you telling me now?” she snapped.

“Because I’m losing the feeling in my fingers.”

Jacie released him, but he knew it wasn’t out of sympathy—not her style. “Then I’ve made my point.”

“And because that rough stuff makes me want to pull the car over and kiss you until you’re all sweet and submissive.”

“Submissive?” Her voice raised about an octave on the last two syllables. She grabbed his wrist again. He bent forward and kissed her fingertips. She let go of him like she’d been burned.

“Just talk, Garrison. By the way, you’re not being very nice.”

Brett lifted his head at the novel comment. “You’re right. I’m not, am I? Cool.”

“I’m just as mean as ever though.” He was pretty sure she meant that as a threat.

“They’ve got O’Donnell stashed in Adamson Lodge, in Snoqualmie Falls, Washington, near the Wenatchee National Forest. It’s a National Park, but from what I heard, some parts are closed off to the public and roads into them aren’t even on a map. It’s rugged, remote, private, and yet near Seattle, and an airport, and plenty of cops and high tech support. They picked a good spot,” he finished with approval.

“We got blown up in Oaken, an area very much like the one you just described.”

“Good point.”

Jacie seemed to forgive him for baiting her. She slid low in the seat beside him, propped her elbow on the door and rested her fist on her mouth. “Of course, no one was protecting us when your house got torched. They could have the whole park service plus the Feds patrolling around O’Donnell. It is a good spot. Plus, O’Donnell is from Atlanta so Washington is well away from anyone who might recognize him. The FBI has to know there’s a leak, so they should have a lid slammed down tight on O’Donnell. If we show up, they’ll probably just toss us into the safe house with him. That gives the assassin one target instead of two, which is bad. But it will also give us a chance to question O’Donnell, and try to make some sense out of this mess.”

Brett noticed she said two targets, never suggesting there could be three targets if the two of them split up. It gave him a little thrill of pleasure.

“It can’t be about state secrets or technology,” Brett shook his head. “It’s too long ago.”

“What else could it be? A hit man is usually hired for big reasons. Power, money. When people kill for personal reasons, jealousy, hatred, they want to do it themselves.”

“Except,” Brett conjectured, “this hit man is a mad man.”

“He is. There’s no other possibility after the way he screamed at us.” Jacie shuddered visibly.

Brett took one hand off the steering wheel to rub the goose bumps on her arm. He’d protect her for the rest of her life if she’d allow it. As it was, Brett was relieved she didn’t bite his hand.

“So, what if everyone has been following the wrong line of inquiry? Let’s start thinking about this being personal.”

“Personal to him?” Brett steered up the winding road. “Or personal to whoever hired him?”

Jacie fell silent and the steady hum of his responsible car was the only sound for a long time.

“If it’s personal to him, that would mean the men who have died know their attacker. They had to have run afoul of him all those years ago.”

Brett nodded. “Or, if not him, then the person who hired him. These five did someone harm. All five of them.”

“Committed a crime?”

“Okay, I like that.” A tight elbow in the road had Brett leaning against his door. “And maybe the victim of this crime only now has the money to hire a hitman. That’s why justice has been delayed for so long.”

“They’re all honest men though,” Jacie pointed out. “Well respected members of a highly paid profession, even back then. What crime would they commit? It doesn’t make sense that they suddenly formed a gang and started knocking over liquor stores.”

Brett tried to follow the line of logic. He was a student of biology, and he’d had to take a lot of math. It was a course of study steeped in logic. “Maybe they didn’t all commit a crime. Maybe one of them did, and the rest of them helped cover it up.”

Jacie said, “Maybe. Either way the men wouldn’t want to admit it to the FBI. And if the hitman is being methodical...”

“Are lunatics methodical?” Brett interjected.

“I don’t know. Serial killers are, and they’re lunatics. Hit men?” Jacie shook her head back and forth then shrugged. “For now, let’s say yes, our lunatic hitman is methodical. Can’t we assume he’s saving the best ’til last? He isn’t going from one victim to the next. I mean geographically. He started in Miami. He passed over Atlanta where O’Donnell was, and went to Sacramento, then came to Long Pine for Bagwell. This was all in just over three weeks. That’s very efficient. Very focused.”

“Until us,” Brett pointed out. “Nothing focused about blowing up my house or the safe house.”

Jacie nodded, staring out the window. “Okay, so he goes off on a tangent, and takes his first crack at us by blowing up your house, then back to the efficient hitman by heading straight down to Austin to kill Ruffing and back to Long Pine pursuing us. If he knows where O’Donnell is, and he’s in a hurry, which he appears to be, why didn’t he go to Atlanta after Miami? Then Austin, then Long Pine, then Sacramento.”

Brett nodded as he wound his car up and down the rolling hills toward Denver, ignoring the view as he sorted through the steps of the case. “Let’s assume for the moment he’s killing them in some specific order. And, if I remember my abnormal psychology class from college, we can figure that he wants the most guilty to die last, so he’ll see death coming and suffer while he waits.”

“So, whatever happened, O’Donnell is at the heart of it. The little I was told about the case revealed no shadowy past for the victims. No record of criminal activity, not one misspent youth in the bunch.”

“But how deeply did they look?” Brett tapped on the steering wheel. “You heard the FBI last night, all their questions pertained to the work these computer engineers did. Maybe O’Donnell killed someone while driving drunk, or killed his girlfriend and used the members of his research team as an alibi. Even O’Donnell may not have put the pieces together yet, since everyone is studying the national security angle. Or, he may know exactly who is coming after him, but he’s not going to tell the Feds something that could ruin his reputation.”

“But he might tell us,” Jacie said. After a prolonged silence she added, “You know this is all pure speculation. We could be on the wrong track completely.”

“You think so?”

Jacie shook her head. “It fits. If it was a jigsaw puzzle, I’d be looking for a big piece of cardboard and the Elmer’s Glue.”

“Right or wrong, the next step is to interrogate O’Donnell ourselves.”

“It couldn’t hurt,” Jacie said. “If we ask the right questions he might tell us something he’s withholding from the authorities.”

“So, Washington it is then,” Brett said. They were already hundreds of miles down the road because he’d decided they were going the minute he’d seen that smoky wreckage of a safe house.

“Washington it is,” Jacie said firmly.

“One other thing we’ve got to assume,” Brett reminded her.

“What’s that?”

“The man who is after us has been a step ahead of the Feds from the beginning.” He tapped the wheel and looked sideways at her to see if she understood the significance of his statement.

“So, if he stays true to form...” Jacie’s lips formed a grim line.

“He’s headed for Washington right now to kill O’Donnell, and he’ll be there waiting for us.” Brett looked back at the winding Interstate highway that was leading them straight toward a homicidal maniac.

“The Feds may be more careful. They must have lost agents in that bunker. They have to know there’s a leak. The assassin may go to Atlanta looking for O’Donnell.”

“He might.”

“And he couldn’t know where we are.”

“He might not.”

Jacie sat forward in her seat with her fists clenched. “I’d like to get my hands on this creep. Bombing is a gutless way to kill someone. I’d like to see how tough he is. I’d like him to look me in the eye when he tries to kill me. I’d rip out his heart and fry it up in a pan and shove it down his throat.”

Brett glanced over at her. “What a mean thing to say.”

Her eyebrows arched nearly to her hairline, then she grinned at him. She slouched down low in her seat, but he saw her struggle to wipe the smile off her face.

That took the sting out of it when she growled, “Just shut up and drive, wimp.”