Shiver of Fear (29 page)

“I’m on a chick, and you’re interrupting me.” He heard the smile in Gabe’s voice. “But I could be persuaded to fly to Belfast
if you need me.”

“Just get me everything you can on Baird, and get it fast.” Marc glanced at Devyn, next to him in the passenger seat of the
rental. She wrapped her arms around her middle, a slight tremor vibrating her slender form. “I really need something concrete
on what he’s doing and where he is. I need an address, near Milltown.”

“If he’s in Milltown, brother, he’s dead.”

“I know, but where in the area he’d be. What’s it called, the Falls Road? West of the city.”

“Gimme some time. I’ll get back to you.”

And just like that, Gabe was gone. Still holding the phone, Marc considered calling Vivi back, but he didn’t
want to deal with Lang right that minute. From his standpoint, this assignment was a bust. He tossed the device onto the console
and checked out the rearview mirror again.

“Anyone following us?” Devyn asked.

“Not at the moment. We can go back to the inn and figure out a plan.”

“Can’t we go straight to Milltown?”

He shot her a look, bracing for the fight. “No. We’re not going to Milltown.”

“Then why did you just ask someone for an address where Liam Baird could be? And your cousin for information on him?”

“Because I’m an investigator first and foremost,” he shot back. “I move with information. The only information I have now
is that we’ve just walked into a land mine, and I don’t want to get blown up.”

“Who were you just talking to? I thought it was Vivi, then you took another call.”

He hesitated a minute. Gabe lived a top secret existence. Only the family knew what he did, and some of them, like their mother,
didn’t know all of it. “My brother,” he finally said. “He’s pretty connected.”

“With MI5?”

“With the CIA, which puts him in the same line of work, with access to a lot of information.”

She pushed deeper into the seat.

“You cold?” He flipped on the heater and got a blast of warm air.

She didn’t answer but looked out the window. “In a million years, I can’t imagine why Sharon would be involved in anything
like this. She’s a science nerd.”

“You really know nothing about her, Dev.”

“I know…” She hesitated, obviously not able to answer that. “I know I don’t. But at least, whatever she’s doing, maybe she’s
not Dr. Evil after all.”

“But you still want to risk your life to find her? Even though every person we run into over here seems to think that is a
very bad idea?” He heard how harsh his voice was, but he didn’t care. At some point, she had to back off. “You have no idea
what she’s doing, other than it involves some pretty dangerous people.”

She turned away completely, shutting him out, silent as they arrived at the tiny inn, parked the car, and slipped into their
room, which had an outdoor entrance.

The minute he locked the door behind them, she headed to the bathroom. But before she entered, she turned to him.

“Here’s the thing, Marc,” she said suddenly, as if she’d been holding the thought in for the entire drive and simply couldn’t
wait another minute to speak her mind. “You have this big amazing family who are all just one phone call away from saving
your life. You have parents you know and trust and… and a childhood that was probably like a damn Norman Rockwell painting.”

“Not exactly Rockwell.”

She just waved off the comment. “You have skills and jobs—more than one, if I understand correctly. And you have purpose.
You’ve never known what it’s like to belong to no one, to have no real reason for being on this earth, no connection to anyone,
anywhere.”

No, he certainly didn’t. “Surely you have connections to people. Friends, the parents who raised you, someone.”

She let out a soft, rueful laugh. “My parents are like
robots. The house was gloomy, the conversations were distant, the love was… Well, Hewitts don’t show affection.”

“So that’s what you’re looking for from your mother?” he asked. “A purpose for living? Some maternal affection? You’re willing
to risk your life and the lives of others for that?”

Her face fell like he’d slapped her. “You know damn well I want more than that,” she admitted forcefully. “I want a
relationship
with her. I want to…” She swallowed. “I want to love her. And have her love me. Is that so wrong?”

“Not at all, in the right time and place. But you need to manage your expectations. Be careful of wanting too much.”

“What’s wrong with wanting love? Wanting a family? A real mother? A child of my own? I’m not some kind of freak, Marc. I’m
just a…
woman
. I just want the same things every woman wants, and for some reason, I can’t have them. It’s like I don’t deserve them.”

But she did. More than any woman he could think of at that moment. “You’re not
just
a woman, and you deserve all of those things,” he said softly, taking a few more steps to close the space, ready to comfort
her with his hands, his mouth, his body. “You’re a strong, beautiful, smart, brave woman. You’ve got a soul and heart. You
are flesh and blood and—”

She halted him with a raised hand. “Bad blood.”

“That’s crazy. You are more than your bloodline, Devyn. Much, much more.”

“Do you believe that?”

“It’s not important whether I do or not,” he said. “Do
you
believe that?”

She leaned against the doorjamb as if the question defeated her. “I want to.”

“Then believe it.”

“You make it sound so easy. You have no idea what it’s like to live with this over your head. It’s like no matter what I do,
it wouldn’t change what I am. I can’t change the people I’m truly connected to. Blood is thicker than water, and, sorry, but
you are living proof of that.”

He reached her and placed a gentle hand on her cheek, holding her gaze to make his point. “I think you’re living proof that
a person can overcome whatever genetic imprint they happen to think they are born with.”

She just looked at him, searching his face, a question in her eyes. “You know what I wish?”

He shook his head, stroking her jaw, her lips, her cheek. “What do you wish, Dev?”

“I wish you didn’t know any of this about me. I wish we met under different circumstances and that I had a clean slate in
your head and we could just… have a connection.”

“I don’t know about you, honey, but I feel a connection.” He wanted to lower his head to kiss her, but something in her eyes
stopped him. “You saved my life, Devyn. That’s pretty much a bona fide blood-and-sweat connection.”

“Is it?”

He nodded, getting closer. But she slipped away and stepped into the bathroom, still looking at him.

“I need to… think about this.” She closed the door and left him standing there, getting hard and hungry and frustrated.

He backed away and ripped his T-shirt over his head, air cooling his sweaty skin as he stripped. On the bed, he ran his hands
through his hair. What would it be like to
live without family, without purpose? He couldn’t blame her for wanting it so much, but if finding Sharon Greenberg meant
risking her life, he couldn’t let her do that, either.

Somehow he’d have to convince her to abandon the plan.

On the other side of the bathroom door, the shower started, just as his phone beeped. He grabbed it, recognizing the number.

“What do you have, Gabe?”

“Enough to tell you to get your fucking ass out of there, fast. This is global, this is big, and you are risking your life
if you go one inch closer to Liam Baird.”

Or
Gabe
would help convince her. “Who is he?”

“A broker, a troublemaker, a bit of a rabblerouser with big connections. It’s the connections they want, not him.”

“And who are ‘they’?”

“Tehrik-e-Jafria.” At Marc’s hesitation, Gabe added, “Pakistan’s answer to Al-Qaeda. Dude, I’m not shittin’ you. Out. Of.
There.”

“What’s Baird doing?”

“Bioterrorism is all I was able to get, and I sold what’s left of my miserable soul for that much. My guess is he’s selling
biochemical WMD shit to the Pakis for loads of cash.”

Biochemical weapons of mass destruction. The kind made from… botulism spores. Like the very spores that had been stolen from
the University of North Carolina lab right before a certain research scientist with world-renowned toxin expertise disappeared,
according to the FBI files Vivi had sent.

“What about Dr. Sharon Greenberg?”

That was met with dead silence. “What about her?”

“I need to find her.”

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”

“Why not?”

“Look, she’s gone to the dark side. Does the dirty science work that Baird’s too stupid to do but smart enough to sell,” Gabe
said. “And forget that she’s an American. They’ll take her down in the process of closing in on Baird. They’re close to getting
him, but nobody would tell me how close.”

This would kill Devyn. “You’re sure? Maybe she’s undercover SIS.”

“I think I’d know that.”

“You don’t know everything.”

Gabe snorted. “I know this op is huge and it’s dark. Very, very dark. The only thing I got for sure was this: you go near
that project, you tip the balance of power, you alert Baird to the fact that he’s about to get nailed, and you can kiss your
little business, and your ass, good-bye.”

“Is there any way this could be misinformation?”

Gabe sighed. “I don’t get much of that, but you know, anything’s possible. Just get the hell out of there, brother. Take care
of business on U.S. soil. Leave the rest of the world to us guys.”

And he was gone.

Now he had to go tell Devyn the good news. She was right about her bad, bad blood.

The plastic goggles squashed Sharon’s bruised cheekbone, and her breath inside the surgical mask was sour from hours without
food and very little water. Her legs throbbed with aches and pains, even when she rested her
behind on a stool during each painstaking step of harvesting the isolated toxins from the bacteria, then putting them through
purification and gasification. Her head hummed with the rush of blood and worry that she’d made a very big mistake this time.

But Sharon’s hands remained steady, the cost of a physical error so high, she refused to make one.

Next to her, Baird’s phone buzzed. He checked it, and his entire body language perked up as he answered.
“Salam.”

Okay, Pakistan calling.

“Of course we’re ready,” Liam said coolly, eyeing the vials and test tubes spread before her. He pointed at the row of aerosol
cans, all but three full now.

“I can deliver them when you want them, where you want them,” he said, turning away and walking to the door. “Let’s discuss
the details now.”

Don’t leave, don’t leave!
She wanted that information. This was the key to getting Devyn to help her out of this mess.

“The shipyard?” Liam asked, opening the door. “You’ll have to get through tough waters. Maybe you’ll need”—his gaze fell on
her—“a bargaining chip.”

Of course, her instincts had been right. Liam would throw her out there as a hostage. But how shocked he would be to learn
the truth. The only problem was… No, it wasn’t a problem. Not if she could figure out a way to have Devyn help her.

She held the test tube over the flame to transform the liquid inside to gas, listening hard for more information.

But the room was virtually soundproofed, and she heard nothing for a few minutes until the hinges squeaked
and she knew she was no longer alone. She stole a glance over her shoulder and met the blue eyes of Ian O’Rourke.

Hope flared like the flame on her Bunsen burner. She looked over his street clothes. “Please get proper covering, Mr. O’Rourke.
You could die by breathing in one of these spores.”

He picked up a mask from the table and slipped it on.

“Are you almost finished?” The mask muffled his voice, but not the tone of concern.

“Three more cans. He wants twenty-four.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, watching her work. Her hands didn’t tremble, but her insides did. Could she trust
this man? Was he SIS?

She thought that occasionally about Marie, the housekeeper, too. That woman lurked around every corner and seemed to have
enough of a reason to hate the IRA and its descendants. Both of them could be working part of the same assignment she was,
or neither of them. It was time to find out. Because when this was all over, she’d either have no allies or she’d be dead.

And that wasn’t the reason she’d put herself through this particular hell. One man had to dangle and die. And only one. She
had to remember why she’d agreed to do something so vile as create poison to kill people. The real reason she stood in this
room turning spores into canisters of death.

He cleared his throat. “Mr. Baird didn’t happen to mention a location on his call?” he asked softly.

If she said or did anything to give herself away to the
wrong
person, she’d be dead and everything she’d done the past few weeks would have been for naught. But…

“The shipyard,” she said.

Desperation pressed her down, but her fingers remained steady as she tilted the vial.

“Do you need anything, Dr. Greenberg?” Ian asked.

In other words, a reward for the information she’d just given him?

“I don’t think you can get me what I need, Mr. O’Rourke.”

He looked hard at her. “Try me.”

For a long moment, they stared at each other, unspoken questions hanging in the dank air between them. Should she…
try
him?

Behind her mask, she wet her parched lips and took the biggest chance of her life. “Do you have a daughter, Mr. O’Rourke?”

He barely blinked. “I have a son.”

She nodded. “You love him.”

“Very much.”

“Would you do anything for him?”

A smile flickered in his eyes. “I believe I am right now.”

She let out a quick breath. “I need you to get a message to someone,” she whispered.

He didn’t move, but she could see that he knew who she meant. And how to find her. This was either the stupidest thing she’d
ever done or the smartest.