Firestorm (3 page)

“I have a job for you.”

“What kind of job?”

He studied her for a moment. “You're not ready yet. You'd turn me down.” He stood up, reached in his pocket, and threw down his rental-car keys. “Use my Lexus if you need it. I'll arrange to have your SUV towed from the fire station back here. I'll be in touch.”

She glared at him. “Don't you dare walk out of here. I want answers.”

He smiled faintly. “There's only one answer you really want right now. It's to that question you've been afraid to ask me.” His voice lowered to a murmur. “The lake. It was pretty, wasn't it? I worked very hard to make it beautiful for you. And, no, you aren't going bonkers.” He threw a card on the table and headed for the door. “That's my cell number. Call me if you need me.”

“Wait. Dammit, who sent you?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Michael Travis.” A moment later she heard the door close behind him.

She felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. She'd last seen Michael five years ago and she'd sworn she'd never see him again. She'd thought he was out of her life.

Stop panicking. She slammed the door on Michael all those years ago and she could slam it again.

But could she slam it on Brad Silver? She had an idea he was completely different from Michael. Less patient, more ruthless, more direct.

How did she know that about him? she wondered suddenly. He was a stranger.

Oh, God, the lake.

Or it could be just her own judgment of his character. This connection she felt with him didn't have to be anything bizarre.

Yes, it did.
He
was bizarre. If he'd managed to do what she thought he'd done, then he was even more of a freak than she was.

But she wasn't a freak. She'd learned to deal with her problem. And she could still do it. Nothing was changed. She could send Silver on his way and get her life back in order. But first she had to make sure he stayed away from her, and that meant getting Travis to call him off.

She drew a deep breath, reached for her phone, and quickly punched in the number she'd not dialed for over five years.

“What the hell are you doing, Michael?” she asked when Travis answered the phone.

“Kerry?”

“You know damn well it's me. I told you to stay out of my life, and that included turning loose any of your sycophants to make my life miserable.”

“I suppose you're talking about Brad Silver? If you knew him better, you'd realize there's no way he's anyone's sycophant. Silver is a law unto himself.”

“You sent him. You told him about me.”

“Yes. I thought long and hard before I did it, but I decided that it was necessary. He needs you.”

“Bullshit. Call him off, Michael. I don't want him anywhere near me.”

“That may be difficult.” He paused. “You're very upset. What did he do?”

“He's . . . weird.”

“But he's not stupid. He wouldn't have tipped his hand if he hadn't had to do it. Did something happen?”

“I'm not talking to you any longer.” She tried to keep her voice steady. “Just tell Silver to stay away from me.”

“What did he do?”

Blue lake, delphiniums, a child running
.

“I think you know what he did. He's like you and Melissa and all those other people you told me about.” She bit hard on her lower lip. “No, he's not like them. He's . . . different.”

“Yes, he is. He's a controller.”

“Controller?” Anger seared through her. “I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Is this one of your stupid mind games? I won't have it, Michael.” Panic followed rage and she whispered, “My God, I didn't even know there were people like him.”

“Shh, I'm sure he never intended to—”

“I don't want to hear it.”

“He frightened you.” Michael sighed. “If you'd let me explain, you'd see that he's not as bad as you think.”

“He's worse. He's a nightmare. Get him out of my life.” She hung up the phone.

Controller
. Just the word struck at her sense of independence and individuality. Well, now that she was on guard there would be no chance of a repeat performance if he came on the scene again. Her will was strong enough to make certain that Silver—

Stop thinking about him. She had more important things to worry about than Silver or Michael or any of their wacky friends. She had a life. Get busy. Don't think about him. She dialed Edna's number. It rang six times before she picked up the receiver. “Edna, this is Kerry. If you don't want to talk, just tell me to hang up. But I thought I'd bring Sam over and take care of the kids for you.”

“He's dead, Kerry.” Edna's voice was numb. “I can't seem to take it in.”

“Do you want me to come, Edna?”

“I think so. I haven't told the kids yet. I have to find a way, but what can I say?”

“We'll work it out together. Maybe I could do it.”

“No, it's my job. How can I tell them he's not coming home, Kerry? It's not right. He was such a good man.”

“I'm on my way.” She hung up and got to her feet. It was going to be a hell of a night, but at least she could try to do something to help. She started to fill up Sam's dog-food bowl. There was no telling when she'd be able to feed him if she didn't do it now. “Eat your dinner. You've got a job to do. Charlie's kids are going to need you.”

K
erry Murphy was coming out of the house, trying to keep the unruly black Lab from jerking her down the porch steps. It was the first time Trask had gotten a good look at her. He'd been too far across the hospital parking lot when Silver had taken her to his car, and he had to be careful of the bastard. She was slender, like Helen. But Helen had been brunette, with wonderful dark eyes. This woman had blue eyes and chestnut hair that gleamed deep red under the porch light.

Fire red.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

She was getting into Silver's Lexus with the dog. Time was running out. He had to make a decision. Should he kill her now?

She must be of value to Silver if he'd come all this way to see her. He might not be right, but it could be best to remove a weapon before it could be used against him.

No, he knew nothing about Kerry Murphy yet except her name, which he'd gotten from the mailbox. It might not be necessary to waste his time on her. He had to get back to Washington and prepare for the next target. Then he could come back and investigate her more thoroughly. And if she became involved with Silver, then he would take care of her death in the usual manner.

Until then he'd wait and watch.

M
ichael Travis called Silver when he was on his way to check into a hotel. “Kerry just called me yelling to high heaven. I gather you made contact.”

“Oh, yes. For all the good it did me.”

“What did you do to her?”

“For God's sake, I didn't damage her. What would be the point? I need her.”

“You could do it accidentally. You're not patient, and you're walking on the edge right now.”

“If you're so worried, why didn't you come with me and give her some tender loving care?”

“Because she told me to stay out of her life.”

“That's about what she told me.” Silver pulled into the Marriott parking lot. “She lost a good friend in a fire today.”

“Shit.”

“That's my reaction. I had to escalate my move and now I have to step back and give her breathing room.”

“The President called this afternoon. He wants me to call him back with a report. He wants answers.”

“No more than I do. You can't have it both ways. If I push her, I risk damage.” He paused. “But I'm damn curious about why President Andreas is risking our involvement. If the media found out, they'd tear into him. He's too squeaky clean for them.”

“He considers the situation critical.”

“And he thinks we can help. Why should he believe that? Does he have a reason to think we'd be effective?”

“Are you going back to Washington?”

It was clear Travis wasn't going to answer any questions about Andreas. He was a secretive bastard and never betrayed a confidence. Well, Silver had no right to complain. Travis had kept plenty of his secrets during the past years. “No, I'm sticking around here until I can find a way to bring her into my camp. She's going to be busy for the next few days comforting the bereaved widow. All I can do is keep an eye on her.” He paused. “God, she's powerful, Michael.”

“I told you that she was on her way five years ago. And instead of smothering her talent, she's been using it. Not to any great degree, but she must have honed it.”

“She can find Trask. Dammit, I
know
she can find him.”

“If he doesn't kill her.”

“I stand corrected. If he doesn't kill her.”

“I'll be very displeased if you let that happen, Silver. I would never have let you have Kerry if you hadn't made me a promise.”

“I'll keep it,” he said curtly. “Get off my back. I'll call you and keep you posted. If you hear anything valuable from Andreas, let me know.” He hung up.

He couldn't blame Michael for doubting him. No one knew better the recklessness of the explosive anger that was driving him. Hell, sometimes he doubted himself. Would he let Kerry Murphy die if it meant getting Trask?

Jesus, he didn't know.

H
er brother, Jason, called Kerry as she was leaving Charlie's house to go to the funeral. “How's Edna?”

“As good as she can be. Her sister, Donna, arrived last night from Detroit and that's a help. They're pretty close.”

“And how are you?”

“Sad.” She stiffened. “What do you expect?”

“Don't get uptight. I'm just concerned.”

“I'm fine. Just fine. You keep expecting me to go off the tracks again. It's not going to happen.”

“I know that. But I think you need a few days' R and R.” She heard someone talking in the background and then Jason laughed. “Laura doesn't agree with me. She thinks you should come down and help her finish the gazebo like you promised. She needs you to paint. The fumes make her sick.”

“Tell her I'll drive down tomorrow. Now that Donna is here Edna won't need me. Family is always better.”

“I agree.” He paused. “Dad stopped by last week on his way to Florida. He asked about you.”

“Did he?” She changed the subject. “I have to go. Edna is waiting. I'll see you tomorrow, Jason.”

“He's your father too, Kerry. You can't blame him forever.”

“I don't blame him. I just don't want to see him. Tell Laura not to touch that paintbrush. Together we'll get that gazebo in shape.” She hung up and drew a deep breath. Jason never let an opportunity go by to attempt to bring her father and her together. He didn't understand. She had told him the truth: She didn't blame her father, but contact brought back the pain and disturbed the balance that she'd fought so hard to establish. She couldn't permit that to happen.

“Can we take Sam, Kerry?”

She turned to see Gary, Charlie's ten-year-old son, coming down the stairs. He was dressed in a blue suit and tie and his face looked pinched and pale. Poor kid. He had held on tight to his composure after the first night of tears, but this was going to be a rough day for him.

A rough day for all of them.

“I don't think they like dogs to go to funerals, Gary,” she said gently. “And Sam isn't always well behaved.”

“Dad wouldn't care.” Gary swallowed hard. “He liked Sam. He used to complain, but Sam made him laugh. I think Kim would like to have him there. She's only six and she's kind of—Sam sort of makes it easier for her.”

And it made things easier for Gary too. Touching a warm and loving animal was always a comfort to children. “I'll ask your mother if I can drive back here and pick him up when we leave the chapel for the cemetery. But you and Kim will have to make sure he doesn't cause a disturbance. Do you promise?”

Gary nodded. “He'll be good. He's smart. He'll know that Dad is—” His eyes filled with tears and he hurried past her out the front door. “Kim will be glad that Sam is coming. She's only a kid. . . .”

Kerry's eyes were also stinging as she followed him out onto the porch. Gary was only a kid too. Two great kids who had lost their father and would have to grow up without the warm, tough man who had been Charlie—

Forget the future. Right now it was her job to help get Edna and the kids through this nightmare of a day.

G
ood-bye, Charlie.

Kerry tossed the rose she'd been given on top of the casket and stepped back.

Little Kim and Gary were clutching their mother's hands, tears running down their faces as they placed their roses on the coffin. Kim reached down and clutched the fur on Sam's neck. Thank God, the dog was behaving himself, Kerry thought. She was glad the burial was almost over. She couldn't have taken much more without breaking down. She tore her gaze from the coffin. Don't look at it. Think of Charlie the way she had known him. It was better to—

She stiffened.

There was someone standing in the shadow of the giant oak a good distance from the grave site. He was half behind the tree and his attitude was . . . surreptitious.

Imagination. Everyone had loved Charlie and he had no secrets. Why would someone think it necessary to hide behind a tree to keep anyone from knowing he was watching Charlie's interment? Yet she was sure that—

He was gone. First he was there and then he had slipped away into the shrubbery.

“Can I ride back to the house with you and Sam?” Gary was standing beside her.

She nodded. “If your mother doesn't mind.”

“I already asked her.” Gary slipped his hand into hers. “She and Aunt Donna have enough to do taking care of Kim. She won't miss me.”

“She will miss you. She needs both you and Kim. You have to take care of one another now.”

He nodded. “I'll take care of her.” His hand tightened on Kerry's. “I'll do everything my daddy would want me to do. But not today. Okay?”

She nodded slowly. She had been as guilty as Edna for not being aware of Gary's needs. He had to come to terms with his own grief, and the overpowering sympathy with which he'd been surrounded was keeping him from doing it. “Plenty of time. No one's hurrying you. Go get Sam and we'll get out of here.”