Pure Dynamite (35 page)

"It should wrap within a few days."

He circled the park, was relieved to find few cars. He parked close to a picnic shelter by the boat ramp. A bathroom and phone booth were close by. He debated staying with her until Ethan's men arrived, but he had to get back. If Adam was spotted he was screwed.

He handed her some cash. "Just in case. I can't emphasize how important it is you don't use that phone. Someone will pick you up within ten minutes or so. They'll approach you and say I sent them. If they don't show or you start to feel uncomfortable, call this number." He scribbled Stan's cell phone number on a scrap of paper.

"And you just told me not to use the phone."

"I have to go."

"Be careful." They both said it.

She reached for the door handle. He stopped her.

"Hell." He pulled her back into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers in a possessive kiss. Now that there wasn't time, he could think of a million things to say. Things that would sound soft and sappy.

He broke off the kiss. He saw uncertainty, knew she struggled with some of the same feelings. Or at least that's what he told himself. Once she was debriefed however, she might hate him.

"Now go."

She climbed out of the car and hurried away.

He watched her in the rearview mirror as he headed out of the park. More than ever, he wanted to get this job wrapped up.

He forced his thoughts to the story he'd tell Lyle. He'd give as few details as possible. Just confirm she was dead, her body dumped where it wouldn't be found anytime soon.

He would also tell Lyle that his partner had firmed up a plan to obtain the C-4. It was one of the things he wanted to discuss with Stan—whenever he reached him, that is. He might need someone to pose as Daniel Montague and Stan knew the character inside out.

Adam had purposely not mentioned the possibility to Ethan, for fear Ethan would insist one of his own men pose as Montague.

He tried Stan's home phone this time, instead of his cell.

"It's about goddamn time," Adam began when he answered.

"You're alive."

It wasn't Stan who picked up the phone, but it was a voice he recognized.
His brother, Zachary.

Completely bewildered Adam checked the display to make sure he'd dialed the correct number. "Of course I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I received an e-mail stating you were dead and that I was executor of your estate."

Adam pulled off the road. Before going undercover, he'd given Stan a copy of his will and his brother's e- mail address. In the event Adam was killed on this assignment, Stan had promised to notify Zach. He had no other family, and with Zach's problems with the law, Adam didn't want the Bureau to handle it.

A bad feeling settled over him. Only one person could have sent the e-mail to Zach. "Where are you? And where the hell is Stan?"

"Since we're skipping the social formalities, I'll tell you point blank: Stan's en route to the hospital."

"Hospital? Is he okay?"

"I'm not sure. Last I saw, he was breathing, but unconscious."

"What happened?"

"I think he was poisoned. There's a small bruise and puncture on his neck. He started having convulsions right after I found him. I called 911, but scrammed when paramedics showed up."

"I'm obviously missing something here. What were you doing at Stan's apartment to begin with?"

"The e-mail said I was supposed to make sure a Chris Tashley in Washington got an attached data file with evidence that would lead to your killer."

Chris Tashley was a former FBI deputy director and Adam's mentor. Known as a straight shooter, he'd recently been elected to his third congressional term.

"What was in the file?"

"Nothing except your last will and testament. There was also a cryptic postscript from Stan that you died trying to clear my name. What the hell kind of case are you working on?"

"I'll explain later," Adam said. "But how did you manage to track Stan down?" Stan prided himself on his ability to be invisible online.

"Through his e-mail account. He left a clear trail of who sent it. When I couldn't reach him by phone, I decided to visit. I must have arrived right after his attacker did. When I rang the doorbell, Stan yelled. I broke in, but his attacker ran out the back."

"Did Stan give you any clue who did it?"

"He was babbling about his laptop, but I couldn't make out much more. He was fairly agitated. Kept saying your name. And that you were being framed."

"What about the perpetrator? Was there more than one?"

"I only saw one, but he wasn't much more than a shadow. It looks like there was a struggle. A lamp's knocked over and the papers on his desk are scattered. Whoever was here tried to take Stan's laptop, but dropped it on the way out. The case is cracked. I haven't turned it on."

"You have it?"

"I practically tripped over it running out the back.

Whoever attacked Stan tried to jump the back fence and had a run-in with the neighbor's Doberman."

"That means the file Stan was sending you is probably still on the hard drive."

Zach snorted. "Must be something big for them to murder over. Who else knew what you and Stan were working on?"

Renata. And Ethan Falco. Shit! Ethan had double- crossed him again.

"I've got to go. I'll call back." Dropping the phone, Adam did a one-eighty and hit the gas hard praying he could get to Renata before Ethan's men did.

The picnic shelter where Adam had left Renata was deserted.

He checked his watch. It had been barely ten minutes.

Swearing, he raced toward the park exit. Ahead of him was a green Ford. He sped up, disappointed to see only one person in the car.

Until he saw the person. It was one of Ethan's men, the same one he'd met back in Durham. And he'd already spotted Adam in his rearview mirror.

Forcing a neutral look, Adam signaled for the man to pull over. For a moment, he thought the man would keep going. Then he eased onto the road's right shoulder.

Parking behind him, Adam climbed out and walked calmly toward the driver's door. When he drew close, he yanked out his gun and stuck it to the man's head.

"Where is she?"

"Are you nuts?"

Adam leaned in. "I'm asking the questions. Where?"

The man didn't respond. Adam pressed his gun forward thinking back to the spot where he'd left Renata. Had the man already killed her and dumped her body in the woods? Or in the river?

"Easy!" The man's lip trembled. "She's in the trunk."

"Hand me your weapon. Then remove the keys and get out."

The man kept his hands raised. "I'm just following orders, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Now unlock the trunk."

The sight of Renata lying on her side, bound and gagged tore through Adam. She hadn't moved or responded to the trunk being open. Was he too late?

He pressed a finger to her neck, felt the weak pulse. "What did you do to her?"

"Chloroform," the man said. "Just enough to get her in the trunk. She'll be waking up soon."

"Untie her and help her out."

Renata roused uneasily. Disoriented, she blinked against the sunlight. Frightened, she looked from Adam to the other man.

Adam grasped her arm, supporting her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. Turning back to the trunk, Adam pointed to a long object wrapped in a tarp. He had a strong suspicion what it was. "Open it."

Inside the tarp was the other shotgun Adam had taken from the prison guard. Renata would have been killed with it, the shotgun left behind with Adam and Lyle's fingerprints. Just like Irv Wallace.

Adam turned on the man. Only one person could have told him where the shotguns had been left: Ethan Falco. Ethan had advised Adam to leave them behind in the first place.

"Did Ethan order you to kill the guard? Or was it your own idea?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Maybe this will help jar your memory." He nodded toward the trunk. "Get in."

"You can't do this," the man sputtered. "Ethan won't stand for it."

"Ethan's crossed the line. Now get in. And I may call and tell him where you're at." It would do little good to question the man. Ethan wouldn't be stupid enough to let this fool know too much. "If I were you, I'd be more worried that Ethan might decide to leave you in there for a few days."

Once the man climbed into the trunk, Adam closed it, and pressed the key into the dirt beneath the right rear tire.

"You can't leave him like that—" Renata began.

Adam tugged her toward the driver's door. "He won't be in there long. I'll call someone and tell them where the key is."

He grabbed the man's briefcase off the front seat, glanced briefly at the contents. Gun, a cell phone, and the tracking device. Adam took the entire case. He'd have to destroy it before returning to Lyle, but at least Ethan wouldn't be able to trail them. Which gave Adam a little time to figure things out.

"We need to clear out before we get company."

Renata pulled back. "Where are we going this time?"

"Back to the trailer before Lyle gets suspicious. Later I'll make new arrangements to have you picked up."