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Authors: Ciana Stone

Holdin' On for a Hero (65 page)

BOOK: Holdin' On for a Hero
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Konnor was pacing the floor when the phone rang. He snatched it up before it completed the first ring. “Yeah?”

“I think we may have a lead.” Slater sounded like he hadn’t slept either.

Konnor was already reaching for his jacket. He had only been home an hour and had done nothing but pace the floor and try to come up with an idea of what to do. Since Senna’s disappearance, there had been no leads on what had happened to her.

He had been all over the city, gone through her address book, and called everyone she knew, and no one had seen or spoken with her. If it were not for Shen’s assurance that their adversary didn’t have her, he’d think it was hopeless. He hadn’t realized until she vanished just how deep his feelings for her were. The fear that something had happened to her filled him with rage and despair.

“Where are you?” Konnor asked on his way through the house.

“A mile from your house. Put on some coffee.”

Konnor set the phone on the kitchen counter, peeled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of one of the barstools. By the time a thin stream of coffee was filling the coffee decanter in the machine, he heard a car coming down the driveway.

He unlocked the door then turned and took two cups from the cabinet. Slater didn’t bother to knock. Two men followed him inside. Konnor glanced at them but didn’t comment. He just took two more cups from the cabinet.

“Well?” he asked Slater.

“Caffeine first.” Slater took a seat at the end of the bar and lit a cigarette.

“Answers,” Konnor demanded.

“I’m not in the mood for your—”

Slater never got a chance to finish his sentence. Before he or either of his men could react, Konnor had Slater by the throat. “Neither am I.”

Slater had time to wheeze once before the first man rushed Konnor. Without easing his grip on Slater’s throat, Konnor delivered a back-kick that lifted the man up and drove him across the kitchen and into the counter.

“Back off, Del,” Konnor warned the second man who started to make a move, keeping his eyes pinned on Slater.

“Let him go.” Del warily approached. “I mean it, Chase. Don’t make me draw on you.”

A harsh bark of a laugh was all the reply Konnor gave. Del reached into his jacket but never got to his fun. With his hand firmly around Slater’s neck, Konnor twisted and kicked. His move pulled Slater across the bar, flailing and gasping for air. Del rose up off the floor as Konnor’s foot met his abdomen. A moment later Del crashed into the wall.

“Okay, enough!” Rick, the first man Konnor had downed, yelled as he got to his feet with his weapon leveled at Konnor’s head.

Konnor hesitated. He was mad enough to take on all of them and to hell with the consequences. But that would do nothing for Senna. Reluctantly, he released Slater. Rick lowered his weapon and crossed the room to help Del to his feet.

“You fucking psycho,” Slater rasped and rubbed his neck, then laughed. “Goddamn, if I don’t love it when you get pissed, Chase. No one goes ballistic the way you do. Sometimes it’s worth the risk just to watch.”

Konnor turned away. He knew Slater too well to fall for his act. Whenever anyone got the best of Slater, he tried to make it appear as if he had intended for it to go down that way. As if everything that happened was all part of some test he was personally conducting just to see how far he could push people. Sometimes Konnor wondered if Slater was not certifiably insane.

“Now that we have that out of the way, can I get a cup of coffee?” Slater asked.

Konnor put the cups on the bar then grabbed the coffee and poured. “Take yours outside,” Slater said to Del and Rick. “Chase and I need a few minutes alone.”

Neither man argued. They left the house. Slater sampled the coffee and grimaced. “You make one shitty cup of coffee, Chase.”

“What’ve you got?” Konnor ignored the insult.

“Does the name Harlan Pierce-Warner ring a bell?”

“The man who found Senna on his doorstep when she resurfaced.”

Slated nodded. “By now it’s old news that he isn’t among the living anymore.”

Konnor swung one leg over the back of a stool to sit. “Details?”

“We don’t have much. We discovered his name on an airline manifest—well to be correct we found his pseudonym, Benjamin Harlan. Seems like he wrote a couple of science-fiction books some years ago under a pen name. When we made the connection we started checking hotels and found him registered. I sent men over to check it out and they reported that he was dead.”

“Dead as in dropped over with a coronary or dead as in murdered?”

“The latter. In the same manner as the other two. The body was arranged on the bed when my men got there and there was another note.”

Konnor didn’t think Slater’s men would have reported the murder to the local police. Slater wasn’t concerned with such things. Instead, he would have already had someone go over the scene with a fine-tooth comb. “Any evidence she was there?” he asked.

A nod confirmed Konnor’s fear. “Just inside the door we found a hair with enough follicle to run a comparison and it matched.”

“Any idea when she was there or for how long?”

“None. All we know is that another man was apparently staying with Pierce-Warner. We found two teacups and we’re running the prints now, but so far all we have is that both sets of prints are from males.”

Konnor stood and paced across the floor. “It doesn’t make sense. Why kill him? He’s not a physicist and—”

“But he did have a close relationship with Senna Laserian and her family,” Slater interrupted. “Chase, between you and me, I’m beginning to think there are more people in on this thing than we thought. The question is, who are they and do they know something we don’t?”

“Obviously,” Konnor replied. “But right now I think our primary objective is finding…Dr. Laserian.”

Slater smiled coyly at Konnor’s near slip, but nodded. “We’re checking every airline, train, bus, rental car agency and hotel in a two hundred mile radius, as well as running all her credit and debit cards. We’ll find her.”

He swallowed the rest of his coffee and stood. “I’ll keep you posted and I expect you to do the same. If she turns up notify me immediately.”

Konnor nodded. As soon as Slater left the house he turned off the coffeepot and sat down at the bar, staring across the room. There had to be some clue, something he was overlooking that would indicate where she’d gone. He reran the events of the previous few days in his mind.

“Damn!” He jumped up and grabbed his jacket. He should have thought of it before. She had to be looking for clues on the Laserian data and Minora was the only person who might have an idea where Senna would go to look.

 

Chapter Ten

 

Light from the window stabbed her eyes when she opened them. She almost acted on her first impulse, which was to groan and close her eyes again. But thoughts of her last conscious moments, the pain in her neck and the unfamiliar man who had introduced himself as Emory Ashbrook, had her bolting up from the bed.

Senna had no idea where she was. The view from the window indicated she was beside a golf course. The window was not locked and neither was the door. That made her feel a little better. At least she wasn’t trapped in the room.

She ran her fingers through her hair and walked out into the hall. After exploring the left end of the hall and discovering three other bedrooms, all empty, she retraced her steps and continued past the room she had awakened in. She came to a staircase and descended into a bright and airy living area.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Emory Ashbrook was sitting in a chair next to a picture window that provided a lovely view of a sweeping lawn and a lake beyond. He put aside the book he was reading and stood.

“What did you do to me?” she asked. “How long have I been here and where’s Harlan?”

He walked over and took her hand in both of his. “I assure you that I didn’t harm you in any way. I merely administered a strong sedative. You have been here since yesterday afternoon. You slept through the afternoon and night.”

“And Harlan?”

“My poor, dear girl. There is simply no easy way to say this. I’m afraid Harlan is…dead.”

Senna didn’t realize her legs had given way until she found herself sitting on the deep-pile carpet looking up at Emory in shock. “Dead?” she croaked. “When? How?”

Emory knelt down beside her and took her arm to help her stand. He led her to a comfortable chair facing the one he had vacated. “Yesterday,” he told her.

“I don’t understand.” She rubbed her temples where a nagging headache was threatening to escalate into a pounding one. “If he was dead then why…”

“Perhaps it would be simpler if I explained,” he volunteered. “I was instructed to deliver you to the hotel. Once there, I was to administer a sedative and wait for Harlan to return. He had a meeting to attend. With whom, I do not know. At any rate, I did as he requested. I didn’t know until after you were unconscious that he had already returned and was dead. Not knowing what else to do, I took you to my car and brought you here. I’m sure Harlan would not want you implicated in his murder.”

“Murder? Are you sure?”

“Quite.” His face paled a bit. “He was…decapitated.”

That was too familiar. “Was there a note on him?” she asked. “One with strange markings, written in blood?”

“How do you know that?”

“Let’s just say that it’s becoming a pattern for people I care about to end up that way,” she said then fell silent and looked outside, trying to get a grip on her emotions.

Emory didn’t interrupt the silence but sat perfectly still, waiting. After several minutes she turned to him. “Why did he want to see me? What was so urgent? He said there was someone I needed to talk to but he wouldn’t say who. And why would he want me to be knocked out if—”

“He wanted you to meet me,” Emory interrupted

“You?” The remark surprised her. “But…but then why did he send you to pick me up? Why didn’t he come himself and—”

“Please.” He held up his hands. “One question at a time. To begin with he wanted us to meet because I requested it. I volunteered to pick you up because no one was looking for me. You see, my dear, of late it appears as if virtually everyone who has ever known you has experienced rather strange occurrences in their lives—sudden illnesses, inexplicable fires or auto accidents and the like. One by one, they have been isolated away from their normal surroundings and subjected to extensive and often painful interrogations concerning you and your father.”

The idea that she was the cause of such pain made Senna feel sick.
What could Dad possibly have been into to make people so frantic?
she wondered.
And what makes them think I know something about it?”

“Harlan had been threatened?” she asked. “By whom?”

“It is difficult to say. You must understand there is more than one faction at work here. Many are desperate to attain the information and most of them would think little of the means they use to accomplish it.”

She sighed heavily and closed her eyes for a moment, leaning her head back against the chair. It was like a bad dream. “How do you know all this?” She was seized with sudden suspicion.

“Your father and I were very, very close. Before his death, I vowed that if the time came when there was a threat of the data being exposed, or you were put in jeopardy, I would do everything in my power to protect you and the data.”

“That’s twice you’ve told me that you and my father were close. And yet I know I never heard him mention you. So how exactly did you know him and why didn’t he ever mention you to me?”

“Oh, but he did.” Emory smiled. “A great many times.”

She shook her head. “No, he didn’t. I’m sure of it. I never heard your name until you picked me up today—excuse me, yesterday.”

Emory smiled at her. “Oh, of course you haven’t, at least not that you can remember. However, I have no doubt that once all of your memories are restored, not only will you remember me, you will have reason to trust me.”

“So now you’re not only my father’s friend but the one person I can trust?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes.”

“Well, excuse me for not taking your word for it, but in my current position, I find it very difficult to believe people. There’s no way I can know if you’re telling me the truth.”

“But there is,” he assured her.

“How?”

He reached over and touched his fingers gently to her forehead. “By unlocking what’s hidden in there.”

She looked into his eyes and held the gaze for a long time. She couldn’t explain it, and it certainly made no sense, but she wanted to believe him. “How?” she whispered.

“First, I must warn you. The more you know, the greater the danger. Once you know all, your life will be at even more risk, as will all the lives on this planet. The knowledge you hold is more frightening than you can imagine. Your father was killed because of it, as were many others. In all honesty, you would be better off if you never remembered.”

“I keep hearing about this secret information!” She jumped up from her chair. “How it’s something so important, so earth-shattering, and dangerous and I can’t believe that people are referring to me—or to my father. If you really are his friend then you know he was just an archaeologist, not a nuclear scientist or…or someone inventing biological weapons. An archaeologist! This whole thing is like some nightmare that makes no sense. I tried to tell Slater that but he wouldn’t listen. He even has my psychiatrist convinced that I know something that threatens the fate of humanity and—”

“And he’s right,” Emory interrupted. “But you should know that you cannot trust Bruce Slater. He was instrumental in your uncle’s and your father’s death and he will think nothing of terminating you, or worse. He will strip your mind from you, Senna, one slice at a time until there is nothing left and then he will toss your useless body aside. He is a completely amoral man without a shred of conscience.”

She agreed with his assessment of Slater, but still didn’t know if she could trust Emory any more than she could trust Slater. “How do I know that you’re not just some lunatic trying to trick me? How can I know you’re telling me the truth and you’re not just like Slater? And how can you know he was involved in my father’s death? Not only that, but what do you know about my Uncle Graham?”

“A great deal.”

“So you claim.”

He stood and reached out to her. She drew back from him. “Please.” He held out his hand, palm up. “I will not harm you.”

Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his. He looked at the ring on her finger. “How does this make you feel? Do you sense anything from it?”

The question surprised her. Why would he ask that, unless he knew there was something off about the ring?

She looked down at the ring then back up at him. He was smiling. “Let me venture a guess,” he said. “When you first put it on you felt a strange vibration or energy pulse.”

“How do you know that?”

“May I?” He started to remove the ring.

She allowed him to slide it from her finger. “I devised this, many years ago,” he said. “It seemed the perfect hiding place.”

Senna was astonished to see the setting that held the gem swing open on an invisible hinge. Emory turned the ring over and something almost too small to be seen with the naked eye fell into the palm of his hand.

“What is that?” She stared at the speck in his hand.

“Get the glass from the desk,” he nodded across the room. “Top right drawer.”

She hurried across the room and jerked open the indicated drawer. Inside was a magnifying device similar to a jeweler’s loupe. Returning to him, she fitted the glass to her eye and peered at the speck in his hand.

“It looks…” She glanced up at him in amazement. “It looks like some kind of control chip.”

“Very good.” He smiled and crossed the room to take a sheet of white paper from the desk. “Let’s return this. There’s an eyedropper in the penholder. Help me.”

Senna assisted him in transferring the chip to the white paper then Emory returned it to the safety of the concealed storage compartment of the ring.

“What’s it for?” she asked as he slid the ring back on her finger.

“We will get to that,” he said and at a frown from her, added, “I promise. But first there are other things that require our attention.”

“Such as?”

“Such as a decision. Or more correctly, your decision.”

“You mean my memory. I’ve already decided. If there’s something up here,” she tapped her head, “then I want to know what it is. Two years of my life are missing and I want them back.”

“Despite the danger?”

“Yes.”

“And are you sure now that you can trust me?”

“Provisionally.”

“And those provisions?”

“There’s only one. Prove you’re who you say you are.”

“Actually, it’s you who holds the proof. And the way to get to it is very simple. It requires no drugs, no instruments, no hypnosis—you need only answer two simple questions. If you can, then your memory will return.”

“What are the questions?”

He said something in a language that at first she didn’t understand. “I don’t—” She stopped as the words suddenly registered in her mind.

“Has the request for reactivation been made?” she translated immediately as he asked the question again.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Who requests initiation of the reactivation sequence?” he asked in the same alien tongue.

To which she replied without hesitation, in the same language, “The Keeper of the Gate.”

A pain more intense than anything she had ever experienced dropped her to her knees. Gripping her head in both hands she screamed in agony. Her last thought was that she had trusted the wrong person.

 

Downtown Charlotte

 

Ian Drake was wet with sweat and shaking with fear. He cringed as Slater leaned over and put his hands on either arm of Ian’s chair. “I’m going to ask you one more time, Doctor. Where is Senna Laserian?”

“How many times must I tell you that I don’t know?” Ian was close to tears. Slater and his men had shown up just as he was leaving for the afternoon. They’d forced him back into his office. He wished he had taken Kendal up on her offer to work late and catch up on the correspondence he had been putting off. At least there would have been a witness to Slater being there.

Slater sat down on the edge of the desk and leisurely lit a cigarette. After drawing deeply on it, he exhaled and looked at Ian. Before Ian knew what was happening, Slater had grabbed him under his chin and jerked his head back. He wanted to fight back but was too afraid.

Slater leaned down and stuck the glowing tip of his cigarette in front of Ian’s left eye. “Have you ever seen what happens to an eye when fire is put to it?”

“No!” Ian gasped. “Please, I swear, God as my witness, I don’t know where she is!”

“But you did go to see her, didn’t you?” Slater waved the cigarette back and forth in front of Ian’s eyes.

Ian knew it had been a mistake to lie about that, but he had never imagined that Slater would find out. He had been so careful and hadn’t thought that Slater would be watching one of his own men. Obviously, Slater didn’t trust Konnor any more than he did anyone else.

“Yes, I went to see her.”

“Why?” Slater withdrew the cigarette and stepped back.

“I wanted to assure her that the sessions were safe and she should continue to cooperate.”

“Really?” Slater arched one eyebrow then snapped his fingers and opened his hand, palm up in the direction of one of his men.

The man pulled a DVD case from his inside jacket pocket and placed it on Slater’s hand. “Are you sure that’s all it was?” Slater wiggled the DVD in front of Ian’s face.

BOOK: Holdin' On for a Hero
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