“Get
out
.” She slammed the shower door shut. “I'll come out when I'm good and ready. Just leave me alone right now.”
He stood there, startled at the fury in her voice.
She was startled too. She hadn't realized how fast and high her anger had soared. Her fists were clenched so hard, her fingernails were digging into her palms. Wave after wave of anger and hate washed over her.
Esteban.
“Your robe's on the hook on the door.” The door shut and she was alone.
No, not alone.
The memory of Emily as she had seen her in the funeral home remained with her. Would she ever see her sister any other way? Would every memory of the past be burned away but that one?
Push it aside, block it. She would only cry again, and that weakened her. She had to think and plan. She couldn't be weak now. She had to be as strong as Emily would have been in her place.
Because, at last, she'd learned that it did no good to just show the monsters.
You had to kill them.
She didn't come out of the bathroom for almost an hour.
Kaldak looked up when she came into the kitchen. “Your soup's cold.” He rose to his feet and picked up the bowl. “I'll put it in the microwave for a minute.”
“You're feeding me in the kitchen?” She gave him a ghost of a smile. “Your mother wouldn't approve.”
“She understood emergencies. Sit down.”
“Okay.” She sat at the table and said haltingly, “I'm sorry . . . I yelled . . . at you. You were only doing what you thought best.”
“No problem.”
“And you were very kind to me last night. Thank you.”
“For God's sake, I don't want you to thank me.” His gaze raked her face. “Are you okay?”
No, she wasn't okay. Emily was dead and Esteban was not. “I'm fine.”
“The hell you are. You're pale as a sheet and look like you're holding on by a hair.”
“I'm fine,” she repeated.
“I called Dr. Kenwood this morning. Josie's doing well.”
“Does he know when they're going to operate?”
“He won't commit yet.” He set the soup down in front of her. “He said she needs to build more blood.”
Blood Esteban had taken from her.
“Has anyone notified Tom and Julie about Emily?”
“Not yet. They can't be reached. They're still in Canada.”
“I don't want you to try to find them. I don't want them to know.”
“Why?”
“They'd come down here and it would be dangerous for them. You said they might be targets.”
He nodded. “We'll continue to keep a watch on the ranger station and their house.”
“I don't want them to see Emily . . . the way I did.” She had to stop a minute to steady her voice. “Tom and Julie wouldn't believe she's dead any more than I did. They'd open the casket and see–– I can't let them do that. I want her to be buried with dignity and respect. I want you to arrange a quiet funeral for tomorrow. When we tell them, I need to be able to show Julie that her mother is in a place that––”
“You're not the next of kin. Tom Corelli has the right to make that decision, Bess.”
“I'm taking the right.” She picked up the spoon. Her hand was shaking only a little. “You can fix it. You're the CIA. If you can forge papers and kill people, you can do this. I won't let Tom and Julie see Emily like that. I want them to remember her as she was before Esteban–– Do it, Kaldak.”
He nodded slowly. “I'll make the arrangements. But the burial should be done today. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
“Tomorrow.” She would be ready tomorrow. She wasn't strong enough yet. She forced herself to start eating the soup. Eat the soup, the sandwich. Try to sleep tonight. Get strong. “Tomorrow, Kaldak.”
“I don't like–– Okay.” He sat watching her eat. “But now I have a favor to ask you. Ed says he can work with the sample we gave him, but he needs more.”
Blood. She had almost forgotten. She shouldn't forget. It had to be entered into the equation. “Then take it.”
“I can wait awhile.”
“Take it.”
He got up from the table and disappeared into the living room. He came back with the black leather kit he had used in the parking lot in Atlanta. When the needle entered her arm, she barely felt it. “You're very good at that.”
“Stay still.” His expression was intent as he drew the blood. “There.” He put a Band-Aid on her arm. “I'll be right back. I have to get these tubes packed in ice and ready to go. They need to reach Ed by tonight. His team is working around the clock.”
“Then there is a big hurry. You said you could wait.”
“You were out for a long time.” He smiled crookedly. “And I was trying to be humane. Couldn't you tell?”
“Yes.” He had been kind. He had held her and tried to keep away the darkness. For a while he had done it, but now it was back and must be dealt with. “I could tell.”
He was gone again, to get the blood ready for the CDC. It didn't seem right she was immune to the disease and Emily had died. Emily was a doctor and had a family. Did God just randomly choose?
She stood up and moved toward the window overlooking the rooftops and wrought-iron balconies of the French Quarter. She had always loved this city. When Emily had come down to visit, she had disliked it and tried to convince Bess to get an apartment in Detroit. New Orleans was too whimsical for practical Emily.
“I've called Ramsey and told him to send a courier for the package,” Kaldak said when he came back into the kitchen. “I'll answer the door when we hear the bell.”
“Are you afraid someone's going to show up with a machine gun and blow me away?” she asked wearily.
“No, not a machine gun. There are quieter and more competent ways.” He set the package on the chest by the door. “And I doubt if they'll come to the front door. They'll wait until you go out.”
She looked back out at the window. “You think they're waiting?”
“Yes, I told you they would be. That's what this is all about.”
She didn't take her gaze away from the Quarter. “It's all about the blood, isn't it? You want the blood and Esteban wants me dead before I give you enough to spoil his neat little plan.”
“Yes.”
“How much is enough, Kaldak?”
“We don't know.”
“Then I seem to be a very valuable asset.”
Kaldak was silent, watching her.
“Do you think Esteban is here?”
“I doubt it. He wouldn't risk it. But he's sent someone.”
“I'm sure that was a disappointment to him. I remember his face in the hospital when he told me Emily was dead. Why did he lie to me about Emily being in the morgue?”
“He wanted to hurt you. You might not have believed him if he'd told you he'd buried her in the hills. You'd have thought he was lying and that Emily had gotten away from him.”
“I did think that when we found Rico. I hoped she had––” Even that hope was painful to remember. “How did Ramsey know she'd been buried in the hills?”
“Yael.”
She turned to look at him. “Yael?”
“I told him to look for a grave.”
She stiffened. “What?”
“I called him back that day on the aircraft carrier and told him to look for a grave.”
“You thought she was dead even then?” she whispered.
“I hoped she wasn't. I prayed she wasn't. But I knew there was a good possibility.”
“Why?”
“She wasn't brought to the hospital with Josie. From what you told me about your sister, I didn't think she would allow herself to be separated from the baby.” He paused. “If she was alive.”
Bess had thought the same thing, but she hadn't allowed herself to accept it. “There was a chance she was still alive. There was a chance.”
“But a greater one that she was dead.” His lips lifted in a faint smile. “My analytical mind. I had to play the odds. I told Yael while he was searching to also be on the lookout for a shallow grave.”
“And he found it. When?”
“Three days ago. He spotted a suspect site in the foothills about ten miles from Tenajo. He verified and was on his way back to report to me, when Esteban's men came and began to exhume.”
“You mean dig her up,” she said bitterly.
Exhume
. Such a smooth, clean word for an ugly violation.
He nodded.
“You didn't tell me. You let me hope.”
“There was a chance I was wrong. And would you have believed me if I'd told you Emily was probably dead?”
No, she wouldn't have believed him. She hadn't let herself believe it until she had actually seen Emily's body.
Veer away. Don't think of that moment. Keep controlled and steady. “I'm . . . tired. I'm going back to my bedroom. Let me know when you've made arrangements for Emily's funeral.”
“If you feel up to it, you might start packing. We should leave immediately after the funeral.”
She went into her bedroom and shut the door, closing him out. She had started to shake, but she didn't think he had seen. She had shown him too much weakness already and she couldn't afford to have him perceive her as anything but strong and decisive.
She drew a deep, steadying breath. That was better. Just a little more time and she would be fine.
She was so finely balanced, Kaldak had expected her to shatter at any moment.
It might be better if she had. That careful control could be more dangerous than the wild despair of last night. Her manner today was not what he had expected. He was usually able to read her, but he hadn't known what she was thinking today.
That was not going to be a problem though. He had an idea she would make her thoughts and needs known soon enough.
Cheyenne, Wyoming
“Yeah, you're a real Evel Knievel, Jeffers. A real, rootin'-tootin' cowboy,” Randall said solemnly. “I guess I'd better watch out.” He cast a sly glance at his wife sitting next to him at the bar.
He was snickering, laughing at him, Cody Jeffers realized. He didn't believe Cody's story.
Snooty son of a bitch. So he'd exaggerated a little. Who did Randall think he was? Just because he'd won a few derbies––
Cody got off the stool, jammed his Stetson on his head, and strode out of the bar. So he hadn't won any big events. He was still young. He'd make it. He'd be a headliner when Randall was cavorting around in a wheelchair instead of that monster truck.
He jammed his fists into the pockets of his sheepskin jacket and started down the street.
Randall wouldn't laugh tomorrow night when one of the big tires came off his vehicle while he was performing. Everybody would be laughing at him instead. All it would take would be a few turns of a wrench to loosen the nuts, and boom, crash. He'd done it once a couple of years before when that bastard in Denver had––
“Mr. Jeffers?”
He turned.
“My name is Esteban.” The man came toward him. “I was told you might be here. I've heard what a promising young man you are, and I may have a proposition for you. Could we go somewhere and talk?”
Eleven
Kaldak and Bess left her apartment the next morning when it was still dark. They slipped down the back staircase to a waiting car and drove to the old St. Nicholas's Cemetery in Metairie, just outside New Orleans.
Emily was interred in an ancient moss-stained crypt overlooking a small, quiet pond. It wasn't dawn yet when the clergyman closed his Bible, nodded politely, and hurried out of the crypt.
Poor man, Bess thought numbly. Dragged from his bed and brought to a cemetery that resembled something out of an Anne Rice novel.
“We should go too,” Kaldak said gently.
Bess looked down at the smooth stone sarcophagus in which Emily's coffin had been enclosed. Good-bye, Emily. I love you. You'll always be with me.
“Bess.”
She nodded, turned, and walked out of the crypt. The air was damp and fresh. She took a deep breath, watching the cemetery custodian lock the iron gates of the crypt. Weak gray rays of light were now filtering through the cypress trees and illuminated the inscription on the tomb.
Cartier.
Kaldak's gaze followed hers. “I borrowed a place for Emily from an Étienne Cartier. It's their family crypt. Everyone has to be buried above ground here.”
She knew that. But she hadn't thought even Kaldak would be able to persuade someone to relinquish his final resting place. “Borrowed?”
“I thought it likely that Tom Corelli would eventually want to take her home.”
Take her home.
The words were sweet and melancholy at the same time.
Take Emily home.
“In the meantime, she'll be safe here.”
Safe in that tomb. Weren't the dead always safe? They didn't care, they weren't afraid or angry. . . .
“Is that okay?” Kaldak asked.
She nodded. “I guess I didn't think. Emily wouldn't have wanted to stay here forever. She didn't really like New Orleans. She would have wanted to go home.” She turned and walked away. Don't think about her. Don't look back. You're not leaving her alone. She'll always be with you.
Kaldak immediately caught up with her, and they walked in silence down the gravel path lined with crypts.
“How did you get them to let us into the cemetery this early?” she asked as they neared the gates.
“Oh, Ramsey has his ways.”
“Are we trying to avoid a hit man? Is that why we're creeping around burying my sister in the dark?”
“Do you think she'd prefer it if you were an easy daylight target?”
“No.”
“I don't either. That's why we're here at this time in the morning and eight agents are stationed behind those crypts.”
Her gaze went to the row of crypts. “I didn't see them.”
“You weren't supposed to.”
She wouldn't have noticed anything on that journey from the car to the crypt. She'd closed everything out but the thought of Emily.
But it was done. All that was over now.
Kaldak stopped her as she started for the tan Lexus rental car parked at the curb. “Wait a minute.” He glanced at a man in a checked sports coat climbing out of a sedan parked down the street.
She stiffened.
“It's okay. He's one of ours. He was watching the car.”
The man was nodding, and Kaldak opened the passenger door for her.
“You were afraid of a bomb or something?”
“I'm afraid of anything and everything,” he said as he got behind the wheel. “You name it.”
“Is Ramsey in that car?”
“Probably.”
“What kind of man is he?”
He looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“He seemed very angry and impatient at the funeral home.”
“He likes to be in charge.”
“So do you.” Her gaze returned to the sedan. “Do you trust him?”
“Up to a point. I've known him to step on a few people on his climb to the top of the agency. He's good at his job, but he's ambitious, and that always colors a man's actions.”
“Yes, it does.” Her gaze went to the east. “The sun's rising.”
“Which means we'd better get going. I'll be glad to get you away from this town. We're driving straight out of the city from here. I'll have someone pick up your suitcases from the apartment and deliver them to––”
“No.”
He went still and then slowly turned to face her. “What?”
“We're not leaving. At least, not yet. Drive me back to the apartment.”
“No way.”
“Drive me back to the apartment and send for Ramsey. I want to talk to him.”
“I'll let you talk to him on the phone.”
“Face-to-face. I want everything very clear. Do you remember I told you once that was how I had to have everything?”
He was silent a moment. “I remember.”
“Then take me back to the apartment. Or I'll get out and walk, Kaldak. Do you want to have to trail after me?”
“I could just knock you out and take off.”
“You've been there, done that,” she said. “It would be trite to repeat yourself. If you want to keep me safe, take me back to the apartment, where I have four walls around me.” Her voice hardened. “Because I'm not going anywhere else, Kaldak.”
“Don't do this, Bess.”
She reached for the handle of the door.
“All
right
,” he said through his teeth. He turned the ignition and stomped on the accelerator. The car jumped forward, pressing her back against the seat.
She had won the first battle.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” Ramsey slammed the apartment door shut. “You're supposed to be halfway to Shreveport to board that flight to Atlanta. Kaldak, for God's sake, I won't stand for––”
“Kaldak had no choice,” Bess said. “And I'd appreciate it if you'd talk to me, Mr. Ramsey. I'm a little tired of being treated as if I have all the intelligence of a prize cow.”
Ramsey glanced warily at Kaldak sitting in the easy chair across the room.
Kaldak shrugged.
Ramsey turned back to Bess. “No one intends to treat you with anything but respect, Ms. Grady. We're all very sympathetic toward your loss. I understand Dr. Corelli was a fine woman and a––”
“Emily is dead. So what kind of woman she was doesn't matter to anyone but the people who loved her. I didn't bring you here to mouth condolences to me.”
“Then why did you bring me here?”
“Information. I need to be clear on a few points. Are you going to go into Mexico to get Esteban?”
“We can't. That would cause a diplomatic incident. We have no proof.”
“You have my sister's body.”
“And a confrontation now might trigger another incident. Be patient.”
“I'm not patient.” She paused. “I need another piece of information. I need to know about Kaldak. I decided to go to you, since I've noticed he tells me only what he wants me to know.”
Ramsey looked uneasily at Kaldak.
Kaldak said, “Tell her.”
“You're his boss?” Bess asked.
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Which means you're not his boss? It has to be one way or the other.”
“Kaldak has been working with us for a number of years. He has special qualifications that make him invaluable to us.”
“Qualifications in killing people or in germ warfare? He's a scientist, isn't he?”
“He told you?” Ramsey hesitated. “Then you know about Nakoa?”
“No, she doesn't.” Kaldak's gaze had narrowed on her face. “What are you getting at, Bess?”
“I want to know how much power you have with these people. You seem to be able to call on them at will, but I have to know how far it goes.”
“We cut Kaldak more slack than we ordinarily would,” Ramsey said. “Due to the unusual circumstances surrounding the––”
“They use me,” Kaldak said bluntly. “Everyone's scared to death of this thing. I'm convenient because I'm there to blame if anything goes wrong.” He smiled sardonically at Ramsey. “And I use them.”
“You're not scared?” Bess asked.
“Hell, yes. I just can't let that get in the way.”
No, Kaldak wouldn't let anything get in his way. “So everybody uses everybody.”
“It's the way of the world, Ms. Grady,” Ramsey said. “But you can be assured that we're doing everything we can to stop Esteban.”
“I'm not assured. I don't trust you.”
“You think we'd let a national disaster occur?” Ramsey asked impatiently. “We appreciate your concern, but it's idiotic to suggest––”
“Listen to her,” Kaldak said. “She wants something.”
Bess nodded. “Oh, yes.”
“What?” Ramsey asked.
“Not what, who. Kaldak.”
Though she was looking at Ramsey, she could sense Kaldak's sudden tension.
“I'm not sure what you mean,” Ramsey said cautiously.
“Everybody uses everybody. I want to use Kaldak.”
“In what fashion?”
“To keep me alive. To help me find Esteban.” She looked at Kaldak and added deliberately, “To help me kill Esteban.”
“Ah, there we are,” Kaldak murmured. “The crux of the matter.”
“You don't understand,” Ramsey said. “It's not so simple. The picture is much bigger than––”
“I don't care about the big picture. You worry about the anthrax. Just give me Kaldak and make sure he has the authority to do what has to be done.”
“Do you prefer me with or without gift wrapping?” Kaldak asked.
She ignored him, concentrating on Ramsey. “I want Kaldak.”
“I can understand you're hurt and angry, but our efforts have to be focused on stopping Esteban from causing another Tenajo.”
“Then we agree. I've every intention of stopping Esteban.”
“If you'd listen to reason, I'm sure that––”
“You
listen.” Her voice vibrated with intensity. “I don't trust your ‘reason.' I've seen too many deals made under the table, too many cover-ups. It's not going to happen again. No one's going to make a deal with Esteban and watch him walk away from this. No way.”
“No one's going to make a deal.”
She whirled on Kaldak. “Could it happen?”
He slowly nodded.
“Damn you, Kaldak,” Ramsey said through his teeth. “You're not making this any easier.”
“I'm too interested in all of this to lie for you, Ramsey. I've never been on the slave block before.”
Ramsey shot him a poisonous glance before saying gently, “Ms. Grady, we've done everything we can to make sure you're safe. Now we need your cooperation.”
“Stop patronizing me. Let's be very clear. You need not only my cooperation, you need my blood. Give me Kaldak and you can have it.”
“Bingo,” Kaldak said.
Ramsey froze. “You'd refuse? But it could mean thousands of lives.”
“Then I'm sure the White House would be very upset with you for antagonizing me and making me walk away. Give me Kaldak.”
“Suppose I promise you that after this is over, Kaldak will be sent after Esteban. Will you go to a safe house and let us handle things?”
“No safe houses. I'm staying here.”
“My God, do you want to die? You're a target.”
“No, I don't want to die. Kaldak is going to keep me alive and you're going to help him. Right here in the open. If I hide, there's not going to be any way of drawing Esteban.”
“Esteban will send a hit man. He won't come himself.”
“Not at first. But I think he's going to get more and more frustrated the longer I stay alive.”
Ramsey shook his head. “You're too valuable to use as bait and you have no conception of what you're asking.”
“I'm not asking. I'm not giving you a choice. That's the way it's going to be. Esteban's going to pay for Emily. There's nothing more to say. Good-bye, Mr. Ramsey.”
Ramsey stared at her with frustration. Then he started toward the door. “I need to talk to you, Kaldak.”
“I thought you would.” Kaldak rose to his feet. “I'll be back in a few minutes, Bess. We won't go any farther than the hall.”
Bess walked into the bedroom. Second battle. She was glad to have it over but she didn't fool herself that Kaldak would be as easy as Ramsey. He had sat there, watching her, adding, subtracting, analyzing. She had been aware of him every second she had been fighting with Ramsey.
She changed quickly from a black suit into jeans and a shirt. Before she could fasten the last button, she heard the front door close. She braced herself and went back into the living room.
Kaldak was again sitting in the easy chair. “You won.” He tapped his chest. “I'm yours.”
“Are you?”
“As far as Ramsey's concerned. Of course, he suggested that we go back to his first proposal and keep you doped up while we take the blood we need. But when I wouldn't go along, he caved.”
“Do you see a certain similarity to Esteban's methods?”
“Maybe. Actually, you handled Ramsey very well. He didn't realize you were bluffing.”
“I wasn't bluffing.”
“I think you were, but at any rate, it was too dangerous to call your bluff. The blood is essential.”
“You'll get it.”
“I know. I intend to make sure of it.” He paused. “And to do that I have to keep you alive. That means I'm with you every minute. You don't get in a car, you don't even answer the door without me.”
“I'm not arguing.”
“Let's go over the apartment, and I'll show you the security measures we've installed.”
She followed him down the hall.
“Neither your bedroom nor this guest room has a fire escape or other entry. They were okay.” He went to the door at the end of the hall. “The lock on this door leading down to the small courtyard was too flimsy. We replaced it with a dead bolt. The courtyard's enclosed by a wrought-iron fence and has a gate. There's a long walkway that leads to the side street so we've stationed a man in the courtyard as well as the front street entrance.”
“Can they make themselves unobtrusive? I don't want to scare my neighbors.”
“Peterson was on duty this morning when we came back from the cemetery. He was standing across the street in the shop alcove. Did you notice him?”
“No.”
“Then I guess he's unobtrusive.” He opened the next door. “And this is your darkroom. Turn on the light.”
She turned on the switch beside the door and the room was illuminated by a dim red glow.
His gaze went to the window. “You had installed shutters, that's good.”
“I didn't do it for protection. I did it to block out the light. That's why they're specially sealed.” She frowned. “You've nailed boards across them. Was that necessary?”