Blind Rage (30 page)

Does she know something? Could she have somehow learned that I was there on the mountain the day her parents got in the accident? Has she found out the part I played in that accident?

He didn’t see how, but . . .

Travis sighed again, then turned to Oliver. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go home tonight. Not until we’re sure you and Tess aren’t being targeted.”

Oliver’s eyes widened. “But I thought you said . . . ”

“I don’t have any doubt Tess is in danger, which means you are, too, since you’re with her most of the time.” Travis rubbed a hand across his mouth. “Someone clearly wanted to get to the Corday woman to keep her from talking. If they had wanted to kill you and Tess, you’d be dead. Anyway, you can sleep in the guesthouse with the guys tonight. Now, go help Tess.”

Travis waited until Oliver was gone before addressing the two former soldiers still at attention.

“Stand down, you two. Kenny, go find Marcus and round up the rest of the crew. We need to talk. Luis, stay here. I want to get your take on what happened.”

Kenny gave Travis a curt nod and hustled out.

“Where was he, Luis?” Travis said softly.

Luis craned his neck to make sure Kenny was gone before turning back to Travis. “I don’t know, boss. Honest. I saw him take off up the block, and I don’t think he cut back across the street, but I had my eyes on the house. He could have circled around and gone in the back.”

Travis looked down at the desk and drummed his fingers for a moment. “Yeah, but where’d he get a weapon?”

Luis shrugged. “I have a hard time believing it was him, boss. But he wasn’t with me when it went down, and that bothers me.” He paused. “I’m really sorry. I screwed up. I shouldn’t have let Kenny go, and we should have reconnoitered and checked the perimeter of the house. If we had, we would have stopped the shooter before he got inside.”

“Or if it
was
Kenny, you’d be dead, too.” Travis looked grim. “Apology accepted. Stay on your toes next time.”

Travis looked over Luis’s shoulder as Marcus came through the door with a grim look on his face. The others began to crowd in behind him as he spoke.

“I gave her a direct order to see me before she went anywhere,” Marcus said. “You better have a word with Pemberton. She’s to blame for this. She didn’t have the authority to—”

“Chill, Marcus,” Travis said. “It’s okay. I’ll speak to her. I’m not blaming you—or anyone—for this. And I’ve told Tess in no uncertain terms that she’s grounded. She goes nowhere but school.”

He looked around the room, suddenly made almost claustrophobic by the addition of five large men—seven including Luis and Travis. They shifted uncomfortably on their feet since there weren’t enough places to sit. The sudden influx of testosterone charged the room with tension, squeezing out the air and making it hard to breathe. The constriction around his chest, the smell of sweat and male pheromones, was as familiar to Travis as the sound of his own voice.

“Okay, I’ll keep this brief,” Travis said. “You all probably heard that someone hit a witness that Tess was trying to get information from. We need to tighten things up.”

“I don’t get it,” Red growled. “How did the shooter know your niece was going to see this woman?”

Red’s tousled hair and wrinkled cheek suggested Kenny had woken him for the meeting. Travis knew Red had pulled guard duty on the graveyard shift for the past week and felt badly for him, but it couldn’t be helped.

“I’m not sure,” Travis said. “But since the rental car they drove is new, I’m guessing someone is watching this house, or at least who’s coming and going. From now on, whoever’s on shift needs to check the perimeter and see if there’s any suspicious activity outside the grounds.”

He turned to Marcus. “We need to get more cameras around the grounds. When are they going to fix the one up at the gate? If we’d had a video feed today, maybe we could have seen who followed the kids.”

Marcus gave a little shrug. “I’ll call the security company again and tell them to put a rush on it. They’re scheduled to come and fix the gate tomorrow. I can add cameras to their list then.”

“Okay, work out new security details as far as who gets patrol and who shadows the kids at school. Let’s plug the holes, gentlemen. I don’t like being screwed with. Anything else?”

They looked at each other and shook their heads, then shuffled toward the door and squeezed through in single file. Travis waited until they’d gone before rounding the desk and softly closing the door. He sat down again and pulled an encrypted cell phone from a desk drawer, then dialed a familiar number.

“We’ve got problems,” he said when Jack Turnbull answered at the other end.

“What kind of problems?” Turnbull said.

Travis brought the general up to speed on all that had happened since they’d last spoken, finishing with a quick recap of the day’s events.

“Sounds like someone’s tying up loose ends,” Turnbull said.

“It’s worse than that, general. It could mean we still have a leak—maybe even someone still on the inside. Even after we got rid of Rosa. And I still think I should have prevented that from happening in the first place.”

“You were all in shock at the time,” the general said. “And you weren’t responsible for that hire.”

“I still should have insisted on screening her.”

“You couldn’t have known.” He paused. “So where do you think the leak is coming from?”

“That’s the problem, Jack. At this point, it could be anywhere. I don’t trust anyone anymore. It could be that someone set up surveillance on the house and got lucky when the kids went out for a drive. But I’m worried. The only person I told about the Corday woman was Cyrus.”

“Cooper? The company’s head of security?”

“Yes, and if he’s involved somehow, then this thing is far bigger than even
I
thought.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Travis. Could be Cooper told someone. I’d hate to think your entire company is at risk. Cooper’s got access to everything, doesn’t he?”

“Pretty much. I don’t want to think it, either. I can’t imagine what would motivate him. I mean, the guy earned a chest full of medals during his career, right? You’d think that would make him bleed red, white, and blue.”

“Ye-e-s,” Turnbull said slowly. “Don’t forget, though, he resigned his commission after Desert Storm under somewhat suspicious circumstances.”

“Illegally profiting from the war or something? That was never proven.” Travis paused, but heard only silence. “James trusted him, and he’s paid well enough. Can’t be about money.”

“I’ll look into it, see what I can find out about him, but I think you’re right, Trav. Seems doubtful Cooper would be your leak. Any other possibilities?”

Travis rubbed his forehead. “Too many. In the meantime, I’ve had to put Tess under house arrest, and she hates me.”

What sounded like a chuckle came over the line. “Welcome to teen parenting.”

Travis groaned. “It’s like owning a cat. Hot, cold. Sweet, bitchy. Warm and gentle, mean as a pit viper. I hate cats.”

“You’ll live. Remember, what doesn’t kill you . . . ”

“Doesn’t have enough ammo to finish you off?”

Turnbull chuckled again. “No, it makes you stronger.” He paused, and when he spoke again, the semblance of a smile was gone from his voice. “Find the leak, Travis. We’re running out of time.”

Tess tried to concentrate on the voice playing through her headphones narrating
The Great Gatsby
, but she failed miserably. Instead of a scene conjured by Fitzgerald’s words, she kept imagining the scene in Helen Corday’s house, the horror of it closing in on her like fog. She could still smell the dust and hint of mildew, the souring garbage emanating from the kitchen, a sniff of lavender from Helen’s perfume—that couldn’t quite mask the stale body odor of a person who hadn’t bathed in a while. All signs of Helen’s state of mind. Helen had been fastidious when she’d worked for the Barrett family, not bordering on OCD, but careful to clean as she prepped and cooked, using sanitizers to scrub cutting boards after she’d worked with raw meat or poultry.

In her mind, Tess replayed the events that had preceded the odd muffled sound like firecrackers in a barrel. Sounds she hadn’t been able to identify at the time—until Oliver had told her what they were. She’d first noticed Helen’s fear, almost palpable in the close confines of the little cottage. It had grown as she and Oliver had pressed for answers. And then a faint, cold breeze had stirred the air, bringing with it the scents of wet earth and vegetation, and a hint of something tropical that she couldn’t quite grasp among all the other smells. Only moments later, she’d heard the sounds and Oliver had tackled her to the floor. In an instant, all those scents had been overwhelmed by the acrid, sulfuric stink of burned gunpowder and the ferrous smell of blood—like a rusted bike chain.

The odors drifting past her nose now were nothing like those. She barely detected Oliver’s scent; she felt his silent presence more than smelled it. He’d stubbornly refused to say anything since Uncle Travis had dismissed them to do homework, and she wondered if he, like she, was in shock. She still fumed every time she thought of what Uncle Travis had done.

It’s so unfair! And how could he even think I’d be capable of doing homework after what just happened?

But she didn’t know who she wanted to strangle more, Uncle Travis or Oliver.

They’re both useless
.

She shut her eyes, as if that action would blank out the images in her head, and wished she could turn back time. Her parents hadn’t been perfect—she remembered that the last thing they’d done before the accident was prohibit her from going to prom with Toby—but anything would be better than the two men who had invaded her life. The thought of her parents triggered the tear factory she seemed to have become of late, and she squeezed her eyes shut even tighter to prevent the tears from welling up.

Through the headphones, she heard her cell phone
bong
, alerting her to incoming e-mail. She sighed and pulled the headphones off, hanging them around her neck while she instructed the phone to read her e-mail.

“You have one e-mail, from Dad,” the phone’s artificial voice intoned.

“Great. Here we go again.” Tess sucked in a breath and spoke into the phone. “Read e-mail.”

“It’s 10:49.” The phone went silent.

“Oliver?” Tess said. “Did you hear?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought someone just said my name.”

“Come on, Oliver. What do you want?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a thank-you for saving your life.”

“It’s Helen’s life you should be thinking about,” she said. “My god, don’t you care that people all around us are dying?”

“Heck, yeah, I care. You think I pulled you to the floor to protect myself?”

“Jeez, it wasn’t
that
big a deal. You heard everyone say that whoever shot Helen only meant to keep her from talking. You nearly broke a couple of ribs.”

But she knew it
was
a big deal. She knew that she’d been mere inches and seconds from death. She knew that, had she actually witnessed what had happened to Helen, she would be sick with panic right now. For the first time since the accident she was glad that she couldn’t see. What an irony—to be grateful for something that had so completely ruined the rest of her life.

“Better than you getting killed,” Oliver said. “Sorry if I seem testy, but I’m not used to people getting shot around me, let alone right in front of me. Makes me nervous. Keeping you safe makes me nervous.”

“Then don’t,” she said. Everyone seemed to want something from her. “After all, it’s not part of your job description.”

The room went silent. When Oliver finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “Yes, I heard the e-mail. You want to know what’s in the book. Fine. If memory serves, some of the animals are in a passageway with stone columns on either side. The cat’s front and center. Behind them the alligator, tiger, elephant, and swan are playing tennis. You can see the zebra and rhinoceros sitting in a tower in the distance. The page has an Egyptian feel to it. Hieroglyphs cover the stone columns and some of the page’s border.”

Tess frowned. “Okay, I remember. The hieroglyphics are a coded message of some sort. Can you decipher it?”

“Sure, but the illustration is only about the puzzle in the book, Tess. All right, give me a second and let me get some paper and a pencil.”

He rustled through her backpack and got what he needed, then the library went quiet again except for the scratching of pencil on paper.

“I’m telling you, Tess, this doesn’t help. It’s all about the book. You know, stuff like, ‘tick, tock,’ and ‘put no trust in hidden codes.’ Oh, hell, maybe it’s all a big joke. Everything we’ve gotten up to now has been b.s. Someone’s leading us on a wild goose chase.”

Tess shook her head violently. “No! I refuse to believe that. There must be something we’re missing. Check the e-mail for me.” She held out her phone.

Oliver took it from her hand. “Okay, so I was wrong. There are some hieroglyphs here.”

“What do they say?” Tess felt a mixture of excitement and dread.

“Hang on while I decipher it. It says, ‘Call me.’”

“That’s it? Call me?” She paused and thought. “Okay, sure. Give me the phone, please.”

Oliver placed the phone in her hand. She found the right button, and said, “Call Dad.”

Nothing happened for a moment. Then, from somewhere not too far away came the muffled sound of punk rock music.

“That’s my dad’s ring tone!” Tess said. “‘London Calling.’ The Clash. His idea of a joke.”

“Sounds like it’s coming from his office,” Oliver said.

Tess got to her feet and headed toward the sound, hands out in front of her to find the swinging bookcase that led to the hidden room. She felt Oliver’s breath hot on her neck. She pushed on the bookcase, squeezed through the opening, and headed straight for the desk. The ringtone was louder now. She homed in on the sound and groped across the surface of the desk.

“To your left,” Oliver said. “A little to your left.”

Her fingers closed around a smooth, rectangular object, and she picked it up.