In Too Deep (2 page)

She knew the hunter-talents saw her go through the door into the stockroom, but with luck they would not realize that she had spotted them. Even if they were suspicious, they were unlikely to follow her. One of the clerks would be sure to call Security.

She dropped the nightgown onto a table and started toward the door that opened onto the emergency stairwell. Darlene, one of her coworkers, emerged from between two rows of floor-to-ceiling shelving crammed with boxes of undergarments. She had a stack of lacy bras in her hand.

“Annie, are you okay?” Darlene asked, frowning in concern. “You look like you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Isabella said.

She had used the name and ID of a nonexistent woman named Ann Carstairs to get the job in the department store. There was only one individual on the face of the earth who knew her real name. In the past week she’d been forced to face the possibility that that person, her grandmother, might be dead.
If no one knows your real name do you even exist ?
she wondered.

That’s it
, she thought.
Stop right there
.
Negative thinking will get you nowhere
. Until it was proven otherwise, she was going to go with the assumption that her grandmother was alive. Meanwhile, her job was to keep herself breathing. That meant avoiding the two hunter-talents.

“You look a little shaky,” Darlene said.

“Low on caffeine,” Isabella replied. “I’m going on break. Thought I’d use the stairs to the coffee room. I need the exercise.”

“Huh.” Darlene hurried toward the door to the sales floor. “Seems to me we get plenty of exercise during a sale. My feet are killing me. I’m going to be exhausted by the time we get off work tonight.”

“Me, too,” Isabella said. “Would you mind taking the blue nightgown out to the counter? There’s a customer waiting for it. Tell her there was no spot, after all. Just a trick of the light.”

“No problem.”

“Thanks.”

She waited until Darlene disappeared out onto the sales floor, and then she opened the stairwell door.

More fog swirled on the concrete staircase, but unlike the energy that enveloped the hunter-talents, this stuff glowed with a cold fire. It was the kind of fog she had learned to associate with impending death.

“Oh, crap, not now,” she whispered.

She was running for her life. She did not need any distractions.

She started down the stairs, determined to ignore the atmosphere of the stairwell. But there was no ignoring the seething fog cascading down the steps. It was so very cold.

She stopped and looked up. The fog came from the rooftop of the three-story mall, one floor above. The part of her that had been dealing with her talent since her thirteenth year screamed at her to follow the luminous trail. There was something at the top of the emergency stairwell that needed to be found immediately. Time was of the essence.

The thought of getting cornered on the roof by the two hunters held no appeal. But the odds were good that the pair would assume that she would flee down into the mall garage or out onto the street. Going up might be an excellent strategy.

Okay, she was rationalizing. Still, there was a slender thread of logic involved. The bottom line was that she had to find whatever was waiting to be discovered on the mall roof and she had to find it quickly.

The emergency stairwell was a highly efficient echo chamber. The sound of footsteps carried from top to bottom. If the hunters realized that she was not coming back out onto the sales floor, they would surely guess that she had escaped via the emergency stairs. If they decided to risk following her into the stairwell, they would hear her climbing up toward the roof.

She slipped out of her flats, clutched them in one hand, and went quickly up the stairs in her stocking feet. At least she was dressed for flight, she thought. She always wore trousers and flats or boots to work, always dressed to run for her life.

She had been living on the edge for ten days. Lately she had begun to wonder how much longer she could keep up the unrelenting vigilance. The fact that Julian Garrett’s men had found her so easily tonight was a sure sign that her life in hiding was taking a toll on her senses. She could not go on like this much longer.

Start thinking like that and you might as well jump off the roof when you get there
.

At least it would all be over. If her grandmother was dead, there was no one left who was linked to her by bonds of blood. Ten days ago, she had been forced to sever the workplace friendships she had forged at Lucan Protection Services. Now she was profoundly alone in a way that most people could never imagine. In a world where everyone possessed an identity, she was utterly anonymous. In a very real sense she did not exist.

So why go on
?

Rage kicked in, generating heat and energy and another burst of adrenaline. She dashed up the stairwell. She did have something, she thought. She had an enemy. His name was Julian Garrett. She would not let the bastards win so easily.

Always nice to have a goal.

She made it up the final flight of stairs, breathless now, and opened the door. Warily, she stepped outside into the balmy Arizona night. The lights of Phoenix, Scottsdale and the neighboring communities glittered and winked below. A nearly full moon bathed the scene in silver.

The vast expanse of the roof was dotted here and there by the looming shapes of several tons of
HVAC
equipment. It took a lot of air-conditioning for a mall to survive summer and winter in the desert.

She hesitated, trying to concentrate on the possibilities that might be available if the hunters followed her to the top of the mall. She could see at least three other stairwell entrances that opened onto the roof.

But the river of icy fog did not lead toward one of the potential escape routes. It illuminated a path to the edge of the roof. At the end of the trail of freezing mist a woman stood silhouetted against the city lights.

Isabella slipped into her shoes and went slowly toward the woman.

“Hi,” she said. Her heart was pounding, but she managed to keep her voice calm and soothing. “Are you okay?”

The woman gasped and turned quickly. “Who are you?”

“This week I’m Annie. What’s your name?”

“Sandra. What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sandra sounded angry now.

“You’re thinking of jumping off this roof, aren’t you?”

“Don’t come any closer.”

“Okay.” Isabella stopped. “I’d really like to help you, but we’re going to have to make this fast. I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Got another appointment?” Sandra’s tone was utterly flat now. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“The thing is there are a couple of guys downstairs who want to kidnap me.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

Isabella inched closer. She was still too far away from Sandra to do what needed to be done.

“They’re hunting for me as we speak. It won’t take them long to realize that I’m not coming out of the stockroom. It would be good if I could get off this roof before they find me.”

“Two men are hunting you?” Sandra’s voice rose in disbelief. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“I wish.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Very.”

“You’re probably on drugs. Did you stiff your dealer? Look, I don’t want to get involved, okay? I’ve got my own problems.”

“No, honest,” Isabella said. “This has nothing to do with drugs. Ten days ago I stumbled into a very dangerous conspiracy. Someone set me up to take the fall. The real conspirators think I know too much. I’m afraid they may have murdered my grandmother because I told her about the scheme. And now they’re trying to kill me. Oh, damn, I really don’t have time for this conversation.”

“Are you some kind of nutcase? One of those conspiracy freaks?”

“That opinion has been floated occasionally.” Isabella edged closer. Almost there. Another couple of feet and she would be able to touch Sandra. All she needed was physical contact.

“Stop,” Sandra said. “Don’t come any closer. I mean it.”

Muffled footsteps sounded inside the nearby stairwell.

“I think we just ran out of time,” Isabella said. “Here they come.”

“Who?” Bewildered and distracted, Sandra turned her head toward the stairwell.

“The killers,” Isabella replied.

She pounced. Seizing Sandra’s wrist, she found a focus and pulsed some energy.

Sandra’s face became expressionless. She stared off into the distance.

Isabella yanked her behind the massive metal housing that shrouded the
HVAC
equipment. She pushed her down onto the rooftop. “Stay here. Don’t move and don’t say a word until I tell you it’s safe to come out.”

Sandra did not respond. Isabella pulsed a little more energy and then released Sandra’s arm. The woman sat very still, her back against the metal housing, and gazed out into the night.

The door of the stairwell slammed open. Isabella knew that there was no point trying to hide on the rooftop. The killers would conduct a thorough search.

She moved out from behind the
HVAC
tower and looked at the figure that had just emerged from the stairwell. The hunter-talent didn’t see her at first. Moonlight and neon glinted on the small pistol in his hand.

“Hi,” Isabella said. She waved.

He turned toward her with preternatural speed, gun elevated.

“Got her,” he called over his shoulder.

His companion emerged from the same opening. He, too, gripped a gun.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t find you?” the first man said. “You’re coming with us.”

“I’m a little busy at the moment,” Isabella said.

“No shit,” the second man said. “So are we. Wasted over a week trying to find you. The boss is not happy.”

He moved forward and seized Isabella’s arm.

The contact acted like a psychic electrical contact, making it possible for her to pulse energy directly into his aura.

She got a focus and sent out a small blast of disruptive psi.

“Get lost,” she said softly.

The gunman went still for a few seconds. Then he turned and started to walk toward the edge of the roof.

His companion stared. “What the hell? Hey, Rawlins, where are you going?”

Isabella took a step toward the stairwell doorway.

“Don’t move,” the man snarled. He lunged forward, grabbed her wrist and turned back to his companion. “Rawlins, have you gone crazy? Come back here.”

Rawlins continued toward the edge of the roof as though captivated by the clusters of lights sprinkled across the desert.

“Rawlins,”
the second man shouted. He sounded on the verge of panic. “You’re gonna go off the damn roof, man. Come back.” He put the barrel of the pistol against Isabella’s head. “What did you do to him, you little bitch?”

“I just told him to get lost,” she said. She got the fix and pulsed energy into his aura. “Same thing I’m telling you. Take a hike.”

The gunman froze for a beat or two and then he lowered the gun. She took the weapon from his unresisting hand. He turned and started to follow Rawlins toward the edge of the mall roof.

“Oh, good grief,” Isabella said. “I’ll admit, I’m tempted to let you both walk off this roof, but it would probably cause more trouble than it’s worth.”

She put down the gun, hurried forward and stepped in front of Rawlins. She touched him lightly. “Wrong way. Come with me.”

He stopped obediently, his face a complete blank. She took the gun from him and set it down. Then she took his wrist in one hand and grabbed the other man’s arm. She guided them both toward the stairwell. When they reached the doorway, she urged them inside.

“Go down the stairs, leave the building and keep walking,” she ordered. “Cross the streets only at the crosswalks. Wait for the green light.”

Sometimes the hypnotic suggestions worked; sometimes they didn’t.

Rawlins started down the stairs. The second man followed.

There was no way to know how long the trancelike state would last. She simply did not have enough practical experience. It was an aspect of her talent that did not allow for a great deal of experimentation. But with luck she would have time to get out of the mall and disappear. Again.

She went back to where Sandra sat, took hold of her wrist and pulsed a little energy.

Sandra blinked and came back to her senses.

“I know you,” she said, frowning. “You’re the nutcase who thinks people are trying to kill her.”

“Right, let’s go.” Isabella guided her toward another stairwell. “I hate to rush you, but I’m in a hurry here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re crazy.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who was about to jump off the roof.”

“I’m not crazy,” Sandra said, annoyed. “I’m depressed.”

“Whatever, you’re coming with me.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the nearest hospital emergency room. You can explain everything to someone who will know what to do. I’m not a shrink.”

Sandra paused at the doorway of the stairwell. She looked back out at the edge of the roof.

“I don’t want to jump anymore.”

“Glad to hear that.” Isabella drew her down into the stairwell.

“But if you hadn’t come along when you did, I wouldn’t have had a chance to change my mind.”

“Always a good idea to give yourself time to reconsider the really big decisions.”

“I’ve been planning to jump for weeks and suddenly I changed my mind.” Sandra frowned. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re smart and stronger than you think.”

“No, it was something about you that made me decide not to jump. Something in the atmosphere around you.”

“You’re the one who made the call. Don’t ever forget that.”

They went down the stairs to the parking garage. Isabella stuffed Sandra into the beat-up junker she had bought for cash ten days earlier and drove to the hospital. She escorted Sandra into the emergency room and stayed with her until an orderly came to take her into a treatment room.