John Doe on Her Doorstep
Debra Webb
Dr. Dani Archer's orderly life had become complete chaos. First, her father mysteriously died, then a sexy stranger–with no memory–appeared on her doorstep…. Complicating matters, someone was trying to kill her.Like an avenging angel, the John Doe became her very own personal protector, displaying instincts and performing feats almost superhuman. And now, the key to her safety lay in unraveling the long-buried secrets of the past to solve her father's death.Only, suddenly it seemed the greatest danger of all was surrendering to an all-consuming desire…
The man appeared capable of most any feat
The ledge protruded a mere four feet. The fact that they’d landed on it in the dark was a miracle and then Dani decided it wasn’t a miracle at all. John had heard the approach of danger before the men even entered the house. He’d led her through the woods last night at breakneck speed without hitting the first obstacle. The light from the moon and the scarce stars had been meager at best.
His auditory and visual senses were clearly far above normal. His ability to heal… Just then Dani’s gaze settled on his mouth. The lip that had been split last evening in the fight had mended to the point of hardly being visible at all. The jaw that should have been bruised and swollen showed no hint of having been damaged. Incredible was the first word that came to mind.
“Nothing will hurt you,” John stated with a kind of knowing that unsettled her. “No one will get past me.”
There was no doubt that she was in grave danger, but somehow she was safe with this mysterious stranger….
John Doe on Her Doorstep
Debra Webb
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
I think we all go through a time in our lives when we don’t really know who we are or what we want to do.
Well, lucky for me, I met someone who made an incredible difference in my life at a truly crucial juncture. She read my first completed manuscript and proudly proclaimed it “Romance!” That day was the beginning of a very exciting journey for me. This book is dedicated to Patty Godfrey, a dear friend and lovely Christian. Thank you, Patty, for pointing me in the right direction.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and with the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing full-time and in 1998 her dream of writing for Harlequin came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345 or visit her Web site at www.debrawebb.com to find out exciting news about her next book.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Adam (John Doe)—An Enforcer whose mission it is to eliminate the three known targets who betrayed the creator of the “super” gene, Dr. Daniel Archer, and to recover the file containing the key to the “super” gene formula.
Dani Archer—Could she really be responsible for her own father’s murder?
Dr. Daniel Archer—The scientist who held the key to the “super” gene code.
Doc—A close family friend. The only real family Dani has left.
Rand and Cal—Two young men who help Dani out on the ranch and who may be responsible for bringing trouble to her door.
Sheriff Lane Nichols—One man Dani tries hard to stay clear of.
Director Richard O’Riley—Center director. He has the power to end lives. Has he made a mistake setting this mission into motion?
Congressman Terrence Winslow—The head of the Collective leaves the day-to-day operations to O’Riley. No one can connect him to trouble at Center.
Joseph Marsh—A project manager at Center. Is he friend or foe?
UN Secretary Donald Thurlo—He overstepped his bounds…got greedy.
Investigator Scott Davidson—Did Dani make a mistake going to him?
Cain—The most deadly Enforcer at Center. Most call him heartless. Director O’Riley calls him the best.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Prologue
Alexandria, Virginia
Weekend home of UN Secretary-General
Donald Thurlo
“Dammit.”
Donald Thurlo shuffled through the mound of papers on his desk again. A pool of golden light from the brass lamp spilled over the mass of now insignificant correspondence scattered on the mahogany surface. Where the hell was that letter? He needed the damned letter. It was his only protection.
He’d taken it from his wall safe only a few minutes ago. His brow furrowed in concentration. What had he done after that? He’d rushed upstairs to throw a few things into a bag. He glanced at the Louis Vuitton case waiting at his feet. His pulse quickened. He had to get the hell out of here.
But first he had to have that damned letter.
“Looking for this?”
Ice-cold fear surged anew through Thurlo’s veins. Slowly, he looked up from his desk.
Oh, God.
Too late.
With a pistol in his right hand, the stranger reached into the pocket of his leather jacket with his left and produced a folded piece of paper.
The letter.
Dammit.
Thurlo straightened and stared into the startling blue eyes of the assassin who’d been sent to silence him. “Why does it have to be this way?” he asked, his words trembling, fear coursing through him. “I could—”
“There’s nothing you can do now,” the man said in a deep, steady voice that proved more unnerving than if he’d screamed his response. “Goodbye, Mr. Secretary.”
Thurlo started to cry for mercy, but the bullet’s impact stunned him into silence….
Chapter One
Eastern Virginia
The early morning weather was perfect. The sun was shining now, spilling its glow over the evergreen landscape, the air clean and brisk from the October morning’s frost. Not a cloud in the sky.
A perfect day for vengeance.
The first phase of his mission had been completed.
Adam slowed and took the next exit off I-95 South. His destination was centrally located between Alexandria and Richmond. Ten miles west of a small town called Hickory Grove, in Virginia’s Caroline County.
Estimated time of arrival, he glanced at his watch, 1200 hours. Interrogation wouldn’t take more than thirty minutes, termination about two seconds.
Then it would be finished.
His lips compressed into a grim line. Part of him would just as soon someone else from Center had been selected for this particular assignment. He was trained to put all emotion aside when it came to his work. Emotion had no place in this business. Thus, the paradox of today’s mission. Director O’Riley had insisted that he was the best choice…the only choice despite the emotional connection. There was no question about that, Adam knew. No one at Center was better than he was. It wasn’t ego; it was a simple fact.
So, for the first time since his activation eight years ago, Adam’s mission was personal. Under normal circumstances Center ensured that an Enforcer’s targets were unknown to him on a personal level. But not this time. He was more than simply familiar with the target’s profile.
Adam summoned the image of his target. She wasn’t the kind of woman a man could easily forget…even if he wanted to. He’d dreamed of those dark eyes and lush lips too many times to count. That would never happen again. He gritted his teeth now at the mere thought of her. The dream had turned into a nightmare. A nightmare that should never have been allowed to escalate out of control.
Today it would end. Justice would be served and the Judas would be cut down.
A muscle flexed rhythmically in his tightly clenched jaw as he considered the man, an innocent, good man, who had lost his life because of this traitor. Adam still faulted O’Riley, Center’s operations director, for not anticipating this threat. He should have had Archer protected, at least for a while after his retirement. O’Riley damn sure should have known that Archer was keeping a copy of his research files at his private residence. What kind of security was Center running these days?
Adam had just returned from a mission in South Africa. He regretted his two-week absence now. Never before had he experienced such intense remorse. Had he been here, perhaps he somehow could have prevented Archer’s death, though he couldn’t see how immediately. There had to have been a way. No matter. It was done.
But he was here now, and he would avenge the death of his mentor. One of those involved in the murder had been taken care of already, which left at least one other key player besides the Judas. The identity of that second key player had not been confirmed at this point. But the Judas, his next target, was someone he knew well. Fire rekindled in Adam’s gut. She had levied the ultimate betrayal, had pretended to love Daniel Archer. There would be no swift execution for this target. A slow, painful death was in order. Adam knew precisely how to make that happen.
Center had narrowed down the possibilities of who was behind the move to obtain Archer’s research. A secret coalition called the Concern was the most logical culprit. Intel about the group was sparse, their leader ambiguous. What little Center did know about the group was not good. The few members tagged thus far were connected to scumbag Third World leaders. Concern’s base of operations was thought to be in South America, but Center had not pinpointed the exact location yet.
Bastards. Fury tightened Adam’s throat. He intended to be on the team that brought down every single member of that ruthless group. But that undertaking had not been sanctioned by the Collective yet. For the time being, Adam would have to placate himself with his current mission—terminating the Judas who had betrayed Archer.
Daniel Archer had been more than his mentor, he had been Adam’s friend. Archer was the scientist who’d taken the Eugenics Project from the brink of failure to unparalleled success. A great man who cared deeply for his work, whose compassion went beyond friend and family to mankind in general. How ironic that his betrayal had come at the hands of the one person whom Archer trusted the most, loved the most—his own daughter.
Undeniable proof that relying on one’s emotions was a mistake. A mistake Adam had no intention of ever making himself. It wasn’t likely that he or any of the other Enforcers would ever find themselves in that kind of up close and personal relationship. Still, they were only human. He laughed, the sound strangely loud after the hours of silence. Despite their superior genetic coding, he supposed it wouldn’t be impossible to fall into an emotional trap.
He never allowed his emotions to show, not even remotely. It wasn’t that he lacked a full range, to some degree; it was simply that he maintained a strict control over himself. Discipline was the key. That was just one of the reasons he was so good at his work.
He smiled, thinking of what his friend Cain would say about who was the best Enforcer at Center. Adam knew there were those who would like to argue, but the proof was a matter of Center record. Number of failed missions: zero. His skills were unmatched, his instincts always on the money. He was the man for this job. O’Riley wasn’t taking chances with this mission. He wanted it done right the first time, and Adam would see to it that it was done with the cold, exacting precision of a surgeon’s scalpel.
He forced away the memories of how Daniel Archer had doted on his supposedly loving daughter. Those heartfelt stories had worked their way under Adam’s skin. Made him feel as if he knew the woman himself. And he did, on the outside. He would know her anywhere he saw her. Knew the music she loved, the movies she watched, even her favorite foods. But he hadn’t known the evil that had lurked inside her. Even her father hadn’t known that.
Tension radiating inside him, making him restless, Adam glanced at his watch once more. It would be over soon, he reminded himself. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. He would put this chapter of his life and all its memories behind him after today…but he would never forget. He would keep the coming moment tightly compartmentalized, only to be opened when he needed a reminder of what love and trust could do to a man. Of how emotions could betray even the strongest or most innocent of the species.
A car parked on the side of the road a mile or so in the distance dragged his attention from his less-than-pleasant thoughts. The hood was raised. Engine trouble. Adam slowed only slightly and surveyed the situation as he approached the vehicle. There were no houses on this section of the two-lane road. Traffic was sparse. In fact, since leaving the interstate he hadn’t met the first vehicle. There might not be another one coming along for several hours.
A woman, twenty, twenty-five maybe, stepped slightly away from the front of the car as he slowly passed it. She held a small child in her arms.
A scowl tugged at Adam’s brow as he pulled over to the side of the road in front of the woman’s car. He scanned the area once more in his usual cautious manner as he emerged from his rental car and adjusted the Glock at the small of his back. He closed the door, taking another quick look at his watch. He didn’t like delays, but he couldn’t leave the woman and child stranded on the side of the road. He doubted even Cain would be that heartless. Adam smiled to himself. Well, maybe Cain would have driven on without stopping.
But not Adam. The least he could do was allow her to call a friend or family member for help on his cellular telephone. Five minutes, tops, and he’d be back on his way.
The woman shaded her eyes from the sun with her free hand and peered up at him as he approached. The child studied him curiously, a half-empty bottle clutched in his hand. Or maybe it was a girl. Adam hadn’t spent any time around kids. Babies all looked alike to him.
“I don’t know what happened,” the woman explained. “It just died on me,” she added, gesturing to the engine. “I barely got it off the road. I’m sure glad you came along. I was afraid I’d be waiting half the day.”
Adam sensed her uneasiness. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man. This was a deserted stretch of road. She had a right to be uneasy. But at the moment, in her eyes, he supposed he was the lesser of the two evils, even if he did make her a little nervous.
He didn’t look directly at her as he stepped between her and the car. No point in making her any more jumpy than she already was. He took a look at the exposed engine as he reached into his jacket pocket and fished out his cell phone.
“Why don’t you call a friend?” he suggested. He offered the phone in an effort to set her at ease as he surveyed the engine. Something wasn’t right.
“Thank you.” Her voice still sounded a little uncertain, but she took the telephone from him.
His gaze narrowed as his senses assimilated a number of inconsistencies. No heat rising, no ticking sound of the engine cooling.
The engine was cold.
“Have you been waiting long?” He cut a look in her direction as he waited for a response.
She shook her head, her eyes carefully averted from his. “Five minutes, maybe less.”
She was lying.
“I’m just glad you came along,” she repeated, her voice too cheery as she pressed a series of numbers on the keypad, then lifted the phone to her ear.
Not enough digits. Any local call in this part of the state would be a long distance one on his phone, requiring one and the area code. When she made no move to redial his suspicion was confirmed.
The sound of frosted grass crushing beneath a heavy footstep came from his left.
Adam started to reach for his weapon.
“Don’t move, man!” a male voice commanded.
Young, nervous.
Adam felt the unmistakable cold, hard barrel of a pistol press between his shoulder blades.
“You don’t want to do this,” Adam told him quietly. There was no way to disguise the element of danger in his tone. It was instinctive. The shakily exhaled breath behind him told him the guy had noticed it as well.
“What’re you doing?” the woman asked, her voice rising with hysteria as she flung the cell phone to the ground. “You didn’t say nothing about guns, Jimmy!” The child in her arms whimpered as if he sensed her anxiety.
“Shut up,” the guy, Jimmy, growled. “You said my name, you stupid bitch!”
“Put the gun away, Jimmy, and we’ll forget this ever happened,” Adam suggested. He didn’t have time for this crap. He thought highwaymen had gone out of style about a hundred years ago. The last thing he needed was a nervous one. If he could distract the guy, he might have the opportunity to go for his own weapon.
The scrape of a boot heel in the gravel on the side of the road sounded a few feet away.
Adam stilled, listening. Jimmy hadn’t moved. Neither had the woman. Someone else had joined their little party.
The distinct scent of cheap aftershave hit Adam’s nostrils.
Another man. Jimmy wasn’t wearing any deodorant, much less any aftershave. Adam could smell his sweat. Jimmy was scared…the other guy presented an unknown variable with his silence. Adam knew instinctively that the unknown enemy was a far more serious threat. His tension escalated to a new level.
“What’s he doing here?” the woman protested. Her child’s perpetual fretting underscored her mounting fear.
“Say good night, big guy.”
Not Jimmy’s voice. The other man’s.
Adam reached for his weapon. His fingers curled around the pistol grip at the same instant that he prepared to pivot toward the threat.
Something crashed into his skull before he could turn. White flashes speared through his brain. His knees buckled. Another blow. He jerked with the impact of it. Brilliant points of light stabbed behind his clenched lids. He had to…
But it was already too late.
Ghost Mountain, Colorado
Center
RICHARD O’RILEY scanned the latest report on the Judas mission. One target had been eliminated, but not the second. He looked up at the man seated on the other side of his cluttered desk. “Still no word on our man?”
Dupree, Center’s top analyst, shook his head. “Nothing. Either his TD has malfunctioned or he’s dead.”
O’Riley’s jaw clenched. Adam was the best Enforcer they had. And O’Riley wasn’t ready to give up on him yet. Electronic devices malfunctioned from time to time. It wasn’t impossible, just not probable. With the tracking devices neurologically implanted, they stopped functioning only when the host stopped breathing. Unless, of course, there was a malfunction, which had to be the case now. O’Riley refused to believe anything else at this point.
“He’s only been out of the loop for twenty-four hours,” O’Riley pointed out. “No matter how it looks, we’re going to keep an open mind. I know Adam. Whatever has gone down on this mission, I can assure you he’s been in tighter spots. He’ll figure a way out.”
At least Dupree had the good sense to keep his mouth shut instead of arguing. O’Riley was well aware of how he felt. Dupree had weighed the known data, ran simulations and assessed all the variables, but O’Riley didn’t give a damn. This was his operation. He would say when it was time to give up on Adam, and that wouldn’t be anytime soon. A team had already been dispatched to retrace Adam’s steps.
Dupree stood, clearly frustrated but lacking the necessary nerve to push the issue. “We’ll keep monitoring local law enforcement activities. We know Adam left Alexandria. Considering the time that his TD went down, I’d say he was about halfway to the primary target, maybe closer. If he’s been in an accident of some sort, we’ll hear about it soon enough. There can’t be that much going on along that sleepy stretch of country road. The recon team will be reporting in any time now. They hit ground zero about twenty minutes ago.”
When Dupree had left his office, O’Riley tossed the status report aside. Dupree was an uptight ass, but the best intel analyst on staff at Center. O’Riley released a heavy breath. This whole situation stunk. First, Daniel Archer is murdered; then, Donald Thurlo’s betrayal is discovered and Joseph Marsh is suddenly missing; now this. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something vital was missing from the scenario. Something he and all these highly trained, overpaid intel analysts were missing.
The Eugenics Project was far too valuable to risk for any reason. Anyone involved in this mess would be eliminated. Too tired to think as clearly as he should, O’Riley rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
He stood and turned to stare out the window of his office. The scene beyond the specially designed outer shell that encased the entire building was slightly distorted, but welcome nonetheless. Sometimes he hated the copper-lined walls and soundproof glass of this place. Hated it, but it was, undeniably, necessary.
Though Center was located on a remote mountain in Colorado, it was still vulnerable. Ghost Mountain was owned by the U.S. government, operated by the Collective and heavily guarded with state-of-the-art security systems. No one outside this building knew the identities of those who worked inside. But even with those extreme measures in place, secrets could still escape.
They’d just learned that the hard way.
A technology war had long since replaced the Cold War. They weren’t fighting the KGB moles and double agents anymore. Now it was the code war and some computer geek sitting in a dark room listening to their every uttered word and computer keystroke. The weapons of today were every imaginable kind of electronic and laser device for stealing bytes of communication via the Net, fax or any one of numerous other analog or digital means of transmission. Nothing was sacred anymore.
Of course, all secrets weren’t necessarily stolen. Some violations of security were merely mistakes.
Fatal mistakes.
Archer had known better. The risk he’d taken by keeping a copy of his files, encrypted or not, at home was a very dumb move for such an intelligent man. In the end, he’d had to pay the ultimate price for that error in judgment.
If Adam failed, which was a highly unlikely scenario assuming he was still alive, they would send another man to finish the job.
Adam had never failed before. O’Riley wasn’t ready to admit that he had this time.
He turned back to his desk and looked at the open dossier lying there. Adam. Thirty years old. Six foot two, one hundred and eighty pounds. The cream of the crop. IQ: immeasurable. Physical condition: perfect. Skill level: unmatched. No one in the program was quite as good.
Well, O’Riley confessed, there was one who could hold his own with Adam. Cain. But there was one key element that marred Cain’s track record. He was every bit as skilled as Adam but lacked any capacity for compassion or any other essential emotion. That missing component limited his usefulness in many situations. Thankfully, Archer had observed that deficit and all who’d come after Cain, the original prototype, were better for it.
Archer. It was still hard for O’Riley to believe he was dead. They’d worked together for more than twenty years. How could something as simple as a thoughtless mistake lead to this? He shook his head, weary of trying to make sense of it all. It was done. There was no way to change it. O’Riley could only see that the traitors were eliminated. The identity of the primary Judas made the situation unbelievable.
He refused to analyze it any further. It had to be done, regardless of his reservations or his personal feelings. No one regretted the decision any more than he did. Joseph Marsh would be next, if they could find him. Fury twisted in O’Riley’s chest. He would like to kill that son of a bitch with his own hands. He had to be guilty…otherwise, he wouldn’t have vanished into thin air. Well, Marsh could run, but he couldn’t hide forever. They would find him and when they did, he would die.
For the moment, O’Riley would be happy if Adam just reported in and let him know what was going on.
There had to be a reasonable explanation for why his tracking device had failed. O’Riley was unwilling to accept that he was dead.
Not yet, anyway.
Chapter Two
Virginia
Archer Ranch
At the sound of a sputtering engine, Dani Archer paused in her trek from the barn to the house. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the early morning sun and smiled as she watched the rickety old blue truck bounce down the mountain road on the back of her property. Hunting season was still a couple of weeks away and already the boys were scouting out the best locations in which to set up their tree stands. She inhaled long and deep, relishing the underlying scent of the lush evergreens cloaking the eastern Virginia landscape.
Her smile faded as she considered that if her father hadn’t allowed those two to hunt on this land since they were barely big enough to handle rifles, she wouldn’t now. Especially after hearing those gunshots yesterday morning.
Hunting was totally barbaric. To her way of thinking, anything one wanted to eat should be purchased at the local market, not hunted down and shot. Tucking her fingers into the pockets of her jeans, she walked out to the edge of the dirt road and waited for the truck to reach her.
She supposed that, basically, it was the same thing. Someone had killed the animals that ended up as hamburger or pork chops, but buying the products at the market seemed so much more civilized than bringing a carcass home strapped across the hood of one’s vehicle.
The truck skidded to a stop in front of her and a smile lifted her lips once more. She could handle a few minutes of company this morning. And she needed to ask about those gunshots she’d heard. “Hello, boys.”
“Howdy, Miss Dani,” Calvin Peacock offered first. “You’re looking mighty pretty today.” That wicked grin he’d perfected to an art form slid across his face. At nineteen, he was more than a little full of himself.
Randall Williams, the driver, bopped Calvin on the head with his camouflaged cap. “Stop flirting, Cal. Miss Dani ain’t interested in nothing you’ve got.”
Cal glared at his friend who was a year younger. “Shut up, Rand. Don’t make me have to kick your butt,” he warned.
Rand huffed in disbelief. “Like you could.”
“Now, now, gentlemen,” Dani cut in as she propped her arms in the open passenger-side window and studied the two young men. “You know I love you both, but I can’t tolerate your incessant pissing contest.”
Rand blushed. Cal looked a bit sheepish himself. “You guys preparing for hunting season already?” she inquired, knowing the answer before she asked.
“’Course,” Cal said. “I mean, that’s the way we’ve always done it. Mr. Archer didn’t mind. That’s okay with you, isn’t it?”
“Sure. Just be careful.” She considered their camouflage attire. “Aren’t you supposed to wear something orange to make yourselves visible to other hunters?” No one else had permission to be hunting on the land. It was posted, but some people ignored the signs.
“No way,” Rand enthused. “We like to blend in. There ain’t supposed to be nobody else up there anyway.”
“That brings me to my next question,” she ventured, almost dreading the answer. “I thought I heard a couple of shots fired around this time yesterday morning. You guys don’t know anything about that, do you?” She looked from one to the other. “I mean, the season hasn’t even opened yet,” she added, hoping neither of them had been doing anything he shouldn’t have.
Rand’s gaze bumped into Cal’s and he looked away quickly…too quickly.
Dani frowned at the covert move. “What?” She directed the question at Cal since he was the oldest.
“He thinks—”
“Shut up, Cal,” Rand snapped.
Worry tightened Dani’s chest. “Look, fellas, my father has allowed the two of you to hunt on that mountain since you were kids. And I don’t mind that the tradition continues. But if you’re keeping anything from me, well…then I’ll mind.”
Rand dropped his chin to his chest and blew out a resigned breath, then turned to her, albeit reluctantly. “I don’t know for sure that it was what I thought,” he told her finally. “I didn’t see…exactly. Just a glimpse.”
“The knucklehead thinks he shot a man,” Cal explained with a snort of disbelief. “I tried to tell him it was nothing but a deer or a bear, but his head’s as thick as a block.”
Fear trickled down her spine. “Shut the truck off, Rand,” she ordered.
“Damnation,” he complained, but did as he was told.
“Start at the beginning.” Her tone left no room for protest from either of them.
“I thought it was a deer,” Rand began without looking at her. “I got excited and fired. I know I shouldn’t have.”
“That sounds just as stupid now as it did then,” Cal said. “I thought the world had come to an end the way you were squealing like a girl.”
Rand glared at him for two long beats before shifting his attention back to Dani. “Anyway, when whatever it was darted deeper into the woods…” He hesitated, clearly not looking forward to telling her the rest. “I could’ve sworn it was a man.”
“Get over it, Rand, it was not a man,” Cal ground out. “You’re getting Miss Dani upset for no reason.”
Dani moistened her lips and swallowed at the sensation tightening the back of her throat. “And this happened yesterday?”
“Yeah,” Rand admitted balefully.
“Did you see anything this morning?”
Cal shrugged. “We did find some blood, but, hell, there would’ve been blood whatever he hit, four-legged or two-legged.”
Dani resisted the urge to shudder. There was no point in overreacting. Cal was probably right. “But you didn’t find any tracks or…or a body?”
Rand shook his head. “No way. Nothing but the blood.”
“Nothing,” Cal confirmed. “And we looked around real good.”
“You’re not going to call the sheriff, are you?” Rand looked scared and suddenly far younger than his years.
The sheriff. Yeah, right. She wouldn’t call the sheriff if—
Don’t go there, Dani, she ordered silently, the mere thought of the man’s voice already making her sick to her stomach. She wouldn’t go down that road again. The sheriff was a total jerk. He wasn’t worth the brainpower it took to think of him.
“Well, we’ll just have to assume that it was a deer or a bear. Cal seems to think so. I guess that’s good enough for me.” She straightened, confident in her decision.
Rand looked weak with relief.
“I want you guys to take extra care up there from now on. Just to be on the safe side. Deer season brings out the worst in people who want nothing more than another trophy to hang on their wall.”
Both agreed and Dani waved goodbye as the truck lurched forward. She watched until they reached the main highway and turned toward town. The two were good guys, especially considering their ages. While most kids were out drinking and discovering just how much trouble they could get into, Rand and Cal preferred hunting and fishing. She’d been the same as a teenager, never one to go looking for trouble. She’d loved riding and spent what others considered their tumultuous years engrossed in horses and riding gear.
Mulling over their story, she headed in the direction of the house. Cal was older and more mature than Rand. If he wasn’t worried, then she shouldn’t be.
The screen door whined as she pulled it open and stepped into the bright, airy kitchen. Her stomach rumbled as she inhaled the scent of freshly baked blueberry muffins. She’d left them on the counter to cool this morning before going out to feed the horses.
Coffee and a warm, homemade muffin would be good about now. And maybe the food would soothe her frayed nerves. She shivered again at the notion that the blood might not have come from an animal. Surely if it had been a man, he’d have called out to the boys. Or, at the very least, have come down for help. She flinched when she recalled the echoing sound of the shots she’d heard.
Pushing those unsettling thoughts aside, she reached for the coffeepot. She had work to do. Work she’d already put off for too long.
The telephone rang.
Startled by the unexpected sound, Dani stared at the beige instrument as it rang two more times. Doc was out of town today, so she doubted it was him. She glanced at the clock—eight o’clock. Since the few friends she had were on Pacific time she felt certain it wasn’t any of them calling so early. A sales call, maybe? The fourth ring prompted her into action and she picked up the receiver.
“Hello.”
“Dr. Archer, this is Dr. Feldon.”
The hospital administrator. Though it was five in San Diego, that particular point was obviously no deterrent to her boss. Dani resisted the urge to groan. She wasn’t ready to talk to him just yet.
“Good morning, Dr. Feldon,” she returned, though considering the tale she’d heard from Rand and this phone call, there was nothing good about it.
“I hate to disturb you,” he said quietly, but Dani could hear the underlying tension in his voice. “I know this has been a difficult time, but I was hoping you’d reached some sort of decision by now as to when you plan to return to work.”
Dani stretched the phone cord and dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. She squeezed her eyes shut. Dr. Feldon wanted her final decision. And since he hadn’t called even once during the past two weeks, chances were he was through waiting patiently.
“I completely sympathize with your loss,” he went on, distress joining the tension in his tone, “and I don’t want to have to rush you, but the board is on my case. Your leave of absence runs out next week and I need to know if you’re coming back.”
A heavy silence settled between them. Dani could picture him sitting behind his desk, the phone clutched to his ear and the fingers of his free hand doing an annoying little drumming routine on his blotter pad. She knew he hadn’t looked forward to making this call any more than she’d looked forward to receiving it, but he had every right to know her plans.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called you already, Dr. Feldon,” she told him sincerely. She should have. “But to be honest with you, I’ve been putting it off.”
“Look, Dani,” he said, dropping formality. “I know your father was the only family you had and that the two of you were very close, but life does go on. You must know that you can’t hide from it forever.” He sighed. “From what you’ve told me about your father, he wouldn’t want you to. I went out on a limb by granting this extended leave to a resident. You’re an excellent doctor and I don’t want to lose you. But I can’t put this off any longer.”
“I understand. I’ll give you my decision no later than the end of this week. Thank you for your patience, Dr. Feldon.” He had been good to her and she’d taken advantage by putting off the call he’d expected last week.
He agreed and they exchanged goodbyes. Dani moved back to the counter and hung the receiver in its cradle. A fresh wave of emptiness and loss washed over her, leaving behind a shoulder load of indecision.
She wanted to go back to her life. She really did…but she just couldn’t seem to work up the initiative. She slumped into her chair and propped her chin in her hands. Her work fulfilled her professionally. She loved the hospital at which she’d been lucky enough to be invited to do her residency. But things were different now. Nothing felt right anymore. Once she was back on the west coast, how often would she manage to get back here? Her dad had been the incentive more than the place. He was gone now. What would become of her horses? Rand and Cal would gladly exercise them, but it wasn’t the same.
She glanced at the muffins and coffee waiting for her. Her appetite had died. Just like everything else in her life. First, her mother, when she had been only ten years old, and now, her father. It just wasn’t fair. As an only child, she had no one left. Her mother had been an only child as well. Both her grandparents on her mother’s side had passed away before Dani was born. The few living relatives she had left were on her father’s side, and he’d been estranged from his family since he’d married her mother more than thirty years ago. She barely knew their names.
The bottom line was, she was alone. She’d never felt that way before…not once. Though her father’d had a demanding position with the government, he’d always managed to be there for her. He’d seen that she was educated in the best private schools near his work so that they could be together as much as possible, and her nanny had proven more second mother than hired help. She’d died, too, shortly after Dani’s graduation from medical school.
She looked around the big old country-style kitchen and exhaled a weary sound. This place was all she had left of the life she’d shared with her father. They’d spent every holiday and vacation here since she was twelve. He’d bought the mini horse ranch for the sole purpose of nudging her back into riding. Oh, he’d said that it would be his retirement home, and it had been, but Dani knew the real reason he’d bought the place. She’d given up riding after her mother’s death. Horses had been Lorna Archer’s passion. She’d ridden like the wind and Dani had loved riding with her. Riding had been their special time.
After her mother’s accident, Dani had thought she might never ride again. But her father and this place had helped her put that hurt behind her. They’d both come to love the twenty acres nestled against the foothills of Virginia mountains and miles away from the nearest signs of civilization.
After his retirement just six months ago, her father had sold his Georgetown apartment and moved here permanently. The plan was he’d be here full time and she’d take every possible long weekend and all of her vacation time to be with him. To escape the hectic pace of city life. To get back into riding again. For her last birthday he’d bought her two new horses. The gelding she’d loved as a teenager had had to be put down last year. She’d been devastated and swore she would never own another. She didn’t have time for riding anyway, she’d rationalized. But when her father had introduced her to the beautiful animals, she’d fallen in love instantly. Life was right again.
Then her father had died. She closed her eyes and tried to force away the horrible memories. A freak accident, they’d called it. He’d fallen off the barn where he’d been nailing down a piece of loose metal roofing and broken his neck. She couldn’t imagine what had possessed him to attempt the work himself. In the past, he’d always called a local handyman. But not this time. And now she was alone. Who would help her put this hurt behind her?
There was no one.
“Enough, Archer,” she scolded as she got to her feet. She had a decision to make. And chores to do.
That was the good thing about running a ranch on her own, even a small one. There was always plenty she had to do. Cal and Rand had offered time and again to give her a hand, but she preferred doing the work herself. It gave her a sense of purpose.
Not to mention that it occupied her mind.
She shut off the coffeepot and poured the steaming brew down the drain. The muffins she stored in the bread keeper in case she got hungry later. She rinsed the white porcelain sink and dried her hands. There was no point in rehashing what might have been. As much as she’d love to, she couldn’t bring her father back.
Returning to her job in California was the right thing to do. It was what her father would want her to do. The training she would receive at such a renowned learning hospital was priceless. Then she could settle back here and take Doc’s place when he retired, if she still wanted to when the time came. Her father and Doc, the small community’s only physician, had plotted that career choice for her years ago. They’d teased her that no one else would ever be good enough to replace Doc but her.
She wasn’t sure she could do that now. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Whatever she decided to do, a few years at Mercy General would be a tremendous boost to her skill level. Mercy was known far and wide for its cutting-edge technology and for pushing the envelope where research and patient care were concerned. Whether she was a small-town doctor or worked in a larger hospital, she wanted to be the best she could be.
Besides, this wasn’t the kind of opportunity one walked away from. She recognized that fact, even if she hadn’t wanted to think about leaving the home she and her father loved so much. He would want her to get on with her life. It was time.
“Past time,” she told herself firmly.
She should just call Dr. Feldon back and tell him she would return to work a week from Monday. He would be relieved and so would she. No point in prolonging the inevitable. Ten days was plenty of time to finish her business here and close up the house. Cal and Rand would take care of the horses. All she had to do was firm up the deal. Doc, Cal and Rand would drop by and check on the place regularly. There was no reason for her to stay. No reason at all.
Except that she felt close to her father here. And his death just didn’t sit right with her. No matter that two weeks had passed, she still felt disconnected…unsettled. Maybe that feeling would never go away as long as she was here. Maybe that was the whole problem. Dani paused in the entry hall and studied the collage of framed photographs lovingly placed on the table there. Tears welled in her eyes as her gaze moved from one precious memory to the other. She might never be whole again until she put all this behind her.
Putting off the inevitable even one more day would be irresponsible. Her father was gone and she missed him terribly. But, Dr. Feldon was right. Life does go on.
It was time for her to join the living again.
She could start by making that call.
THE TELEPHONE RANG. He didn’t want to answer. He knew who it would be. But he had to. Otherwise he might just end up dead, too.
“Hello,” he said trying hard to hide his fear.
“Tell me you’ve found it,” the voice on the other end of the line snapped.
“I’ve looked everywhere. I can’t—”
“I don’t want to hear excuses! Didn’t you read your paper yesterday? Thurlo is dead. How long do you think it’ll be before they send someone for one of us?”
He scrubbed a shaky hand over his face. He’d read the paper all right. “I’m doing my best—”
“That isn’t good enough.” The accusation was a savage growl. “You find that file or we’re both dead. You don’t make deals like this and then drag your feet. They won’t wait much longer.”
They. If Center didn’t kill him, they probably would.
“I’ll find it.” It was all he could think to say. It was what he had to do. He didn’t need reminding.
“Call me the instant you find it.”
“I will.”
“And don’t forget, I want all loose ends tied up. She is your problem. Do what you have to.”
“I understand.”
He hung up the phone and closed his eyes. Dear God, what had he done? His eyes opened and he squared his shoulders as reality seared through him. He’d done what he had to.
He swallowed back the vile taste of self-loathing.
And he’d do it again.
Whatever the cost.
Chapter Three
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.
Chapter Four
For an endless moment, Dani stood frozen…unable to move or think. Her physician’s instincts screamed at her to go to the man who was obviously injured in some way, but the vulnerable, human side of her refused to even breathe, much less move a step in his direction. The skin on her wrist still burned where he had clutched at her so desperately and with such strength. How could a man on the verge of collapsing possess such tremendous strength?
When he continued to lie motionless, those instincts honed for nearly a decade in medical school, then a couple more as a resident, finally kicked in. She crouched next to him, bracing one knee against the smooth hardwood floor.
Her heart racing, she reached toward his throat and the carotid artery there. He was breathing, though his pulse rate was a little slow. Needing more light, she flipped on the overhead fixture and resumed her examination.
His color was ashen. Not good. His clothes were mud-splattered, with dried leaves stuck here and there in garish decoration. A number of angry scratches marred his face and bare forearms. The dried blood on his shoulder certainly would not have come from any of the scratches. Easing closer, allowing both knees to rest on the floor now, she leaned over him and examined his right shoulder.
The edges of a small tear in the fabric of his shirt were stuck together with blood. As she noted the damage to the khaki material somewhere in the back of her mind she considered that she should be using gloves. Should be calling the police…an ambulance.
She slipped enough buttons from their closures to facilitate sliding the shirt off his shoulder. More red, angry flesh surrounded an already healing circular wound about the size of a nickel. The injury was unmistakable. A bullet wound. Cal’s and Rand’s story zoomed into her thoughts. But she didn’t have time to reflect on that right now.
Using all her strength against the deadweight pressing down onto the floor, she rolled him onto his left side. She carefully peeled the shirt away from his skin to see if the bullet had exited cleanly.
A sigh slipped past her lips when she found the exit wound, larger and not healed quite so well. Okay, there would be no bullet to remove. The incredible fact that the injuries were healed so well eliminated the need for suturing. Allowing his weight to ease back down against the floor, she sat back on her heels and considered her unexpected patient. The gunshot wound wasn’t the cause of his current state, that much she’d wager. His flesh felt too warm. She needed to verify his temperature. Maybe an infection?
Proceeding with her examination, she checked his limbs, which appeared to have been working fine before he collapsed. He had moved toward her and his grip had certainly been plenty powerful. All appeared to be in order as she made her way along his lean, muscular limbs and torso, then up his neck. Buried in thick, silky hair, her fingers stilled where they roamed his scalp. There was noticeable swelling at the back of his skull. She rolled him onto his side once more and surveyed the area more closely. The flesh was not damaged or discolored. His full head of blond hair looked no worse for wear. Yet there was a definite raised area.
She had to have help. She couldn’t move him on her own. Getting him to the hospital was the next logical step. Calling an ambulance, as she’d considered earlier, would be pointless. By the time it reached her remote location, she could have him at the hospital twice over by herself. She just needed help moving him.
Cal and Rand.
She made the call and in less than fifteen minutes, the two were at her door.
“Holy cow.”
Rand looked from the stranger, still unconscious on the floor, to his friend, whose exclamation still echoed in the seemingly too quiet house. “I told you, man,” he murmured.
“You think this is the man you saw?” Dani asked as she knelt next to the stranger and checked his pulse once more. Still a bit slow, but damned steady.
Rand nodded. “It’s him.” Then he shook his head slowly from side to side in visible regret. “Dammit. I didn’t mean—”
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” Dani interjected. “Help me get him to your truck.”
Rand’s eyes rounded in terror. “You going to take him to the hospital?”
Cal jabbed him with his elbow. “Of course she is, you idiot. He’s been shot.”
Dani’s gaze locked with Rand’s and she knew exactly what he was afraid of. The hospital would be required to report the shooting to the sheriff. Sheriff Lane Nichols was an absolute jerk. The idea of having to deal with him left a bad taste in her mouth as well. She shuddered, then shook off the dread.
“We have to—”
“He’s all right, ain’t he?” Rand demanded. “I mean, he’s not going to die or anything…”
Dani peered down at the stranger once more. “He’s stable, if that’s what you’re asking. His life isn’t in danger from the gunshot wound, in my estimation.” She considered his heated flesh. Unless an infection was in the works. “But there might be other complications.” She shrugged as half a dozen scenarios filtered through her thoughts. “Infection. There’s a lump on the back of his skull.” She looked up at the boys then. “Could he have fallen after you shot him?”
Both shook their heads vigorously. “He ran like hell,” Cal explained. “That’s why I thought it was a deer. I saw the blood where he’d been hit, but he was long gone.”
Rand nodded his agreement. “We weren’t close to any bluffs or nothing like that. One second he was there, the next he was gone. I even followed the blood trail for a while but never caught up with him.”
“That happens with deer a lot,” Cal put in. “That’s why I was sure…”
His gaze dropped back down to the man. He didn’t have to say the rest. Dani understood. He sincerely thought his friend had shot a deer that had run off to die someplace where his hunters would never locate him.
“If you take him to the hospital,” Rand said softly, “the sheriff’ll have my hide. He’s got it in for me anyway.”
Dani could believe that. Nichols had had it in for her for a long time. She didn’t trust him. In fact, he scared the hell out of her.
Maybe the boys were right. Maybe involving the sheriff wasn’t even necessary. She peered down at the injured man once more. Maybe she could give him all the attention he needed. When he woke up, hopefully she could convince him not to press charges against Rand.
“All right,” she said as she pushed to her feet. “Let’s get him to the guest room.”
The relief on the boys’ faces was palpable. She had to be out of her mind. What if something went wrong? What if he took a turn for the worse during the night? Then she’d call that ambulance, she promised herself. But, what if he was a fugitive from the law? For all she knew, he could be a killer. Why else would he hiding out in the woods like that?
Just now taking the time to consider who the guy was, she knelt down next to him and searched his pockets for some sort of identification. His pockets were empty. The possibility that he’d been robbed occurred to her. But why, then, would he hide in the woods?
It didn’t make sense.
Any more than what she was about to do.
She stepped back out of the way and let Rand and Cal take over. Cal, the more muscular of the two, hooked his arms under the stranger’s and hefted him upward. Rand lifted him with one arm under the bend of each knee. The typical dead man carry.
Moving the stranger didn’t actually worry Dani. He’d walked into her home of his own volition, and her examination had given her no reason to believe he had any broken bones. That wasn’t to say that there couldn’t be fractures undetectable by the naked eye and probing fingers. But that was a risk even paramedics would have to take were they to heft him onto a gurney and into an ambulance.
She followed the slow progress up the stairs. Rand and Cal had to take it one arduous step at a time. The guy was heavy. Dani estimated his height past six feet and his weight close to two hundred pounds. Judging by the fit of his jeans and shirt, every ounce of it was rock-solid muscle.
She swallowed hard as the idea that he could be a fugitive—a rapist or killer—crossed her mind yet again.
Shoving the thought aside, she reminded herself that whoever he was, right now he needed help. Even an inmate on death row received proper medical attention. Now wasn’t the time to question her motivation or to second-guess her reasoning. He needed help; she would do what she could.
Once in the upstairs hall, she moved around the three men and hurried to the guest room. She drew back the comforter and top sheet and fluffed the pillows. When Rand and Cal had positioned the injured man on the bed, she removed his hiking boots and set them aside. A frown wriggled its way across her brow as she noted the brand of his shoes. Two hundred bucks minimum. Why would a fugitive from the law be wearing high-priced footwear?
“Help me with his shirt,” she said to Cal, who stood on the left side of the bed. Rand stepped out of her way as she moved to the head of the bed.
One quick glance at the label told her that his taste in shirts was every bit as refined as that in his footwear.
When she’d undressed him to the waist she turned to Rand. “Tomorrow morning, I want you up on that mountain. Search the area where you think you saw him and see if you can find a wallet or anything else that might help us identify this guy.”
Rand nodded, his eyes still wide with uncertainty. “Does this mean that you’re not going to call the sheriff?”
Dani thought about that for a time before answering. “It means,” she said carefully, “that I’m going to see what John Doe here wants to do when he wakes up.” The idea that the lump on his head might be trouble nagged at her. “But,” she warned, looking from Rand to Cal and back, “if his condition deteriorates in any way, all bets are off.” If hidden trouble existed, symptoms would surface.
The two nodded. “You want us to stay the night, Miss Dani?” Cal asked.
She decided that was a good idea. “I’d appreciate it. That way, you’ll be close by if I need you.”
“We’ll call our folks,” Rand told her as they left the room, both looking about ten years older than they had that morning.
Having them close by would be a good thing. The house had four bedrooms. There was plenty of space. At daybreak, she’d send the boys out to search the area where they thought they’d first encountered this man. If they could locate the path he’d taken coming down the mountain, maybe they’d find something. Anything he’d had in his possession might prove to be useful.
Dani put all other thoughts aside and set to the task of doing what needed to be done. She gathered the elaborate first aid kit she and her father kept at the house and the necessary cleaning supplies. She also put a call in to Doc but couldn’t reach him. Leaving a message with his service would work. As soon as he got the message, he’d call. She needed a second opinion on the decision she’d made not to go to a hospital right away.
Part of her felt certain she was making a mistake, but another part of her was convinced that she’d done the right thing for all concerned. But was the option she’d chosen more right for her and Rand than for this helpless stranger?
After she’d cleaned his wounds and applied topical antibiotic, she determined that his temperature was only slightly above normal. The pupils of his eyes responded appropriately, as did his involuntary reflexes. That puzzled her a bit. The lump on his head and his continued deep sleep made her uncomfortable, but there were no outward symptoms that would dictate concern.
She chewed her bottom lip and thought about the bullet wounds she’d cleansed. According to Rand, the shooting had taken place yesterday morning but the advanced healing indicated otherwise. The wounds should have been still oozing, with scarcely any formation of a scab. Maybe this man’s injuries had nothing to do with Cal and Rand.
Her gaze roved over his well-defined torso. He looked to be in excellent physical condition. She was well aware that prisoners had access to state-of-the-art gyms in prison. So his great physical conditioning didn’t tell her anything one way or another. His clothes, however, were a different story. How many inmates could afford a single outfit that likely cost five hundred dollars or more? She supposed he could have stolen it, but the fit was perfect. Her gaze moved down the length of his long legs. She didn’t have to peel off the denim to clearly see that the rest of his anatomy was as well maintained as his torso.
Another of those foolish shivers danced up her spine and she chastised herself for being an idiot. She wasn’t a kid. Getting caught up in some fantasy here was seriously beneath her. Whatever this man’s story, she had to keep her wits about her. Serial killers could be well dressed, even wealthy.
Once she’d covered him with the sheet and comforter, she went downstairs to check on Cal and Rand. Their hushed conversation ceased when she entered the kitchen. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee made her think of long nights at the hospital. She sure hadn’t expected to be patching up the wounded tonight.
Cal met her gaze guiltily. “Hope you don’t mind that we made some coffee.”
“Help yourself to anything you’d like to drink or eat.” Supplies needed to be used up, she didn’t bother adding. In a few more days, she’d be gone. God only knew how long it would be before she got back here.
“Miss Dani,” Rand said, dragging her attention in his direction. His dark hair had fallen into his eyes and he looked suddenly like a child rather than an eighteen-year-old man. “I’m real sorry about all this.” He stared at the floor and shook his head. “I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble. If that fella—”
“He’s going to be fine,” she insisted, knowing he needed reassuring. “If there’s any permanent damage, it’s going to be from the blow he took to the back of his head. The gunshot didn’t do any real damage that I can see.” She pulled a cup from the cabinet above the coffeemaker. “I don’t know his story, but it can’t be good.” She smiled with as much added reassurance as she could muster. “Whatever his reasons for running around in those woods, they have nothing to do with us. We’re helping him. That’s a good thing.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/debra-webb/john-doe-on-her-doorstep/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.