Whitewash (32 page)

Sabrina ran, stumbling every time she looked over her shoulder. Was it possible he hadn’t seen her? She knew she had screamed out loud when Anna Copello’s body plunged into the tank. He had to have heard. Maybe because she was underneath the catwalk the noise of the engines and pumps had drowned out her scream.

She took a sharp left around the corner of the building, slamming her body against the corrugated steel. She stopped to catch her breath. And to listen. The hydraulics of tanker trucks hissed and whined. An air-conditioning unit hummed. The alarm siren could barely be heard outside. It wasn’t necessary since the monitors in every security post would be flashing codes and location. They might not even hurry, Sabrina realized. After all, Reactor #5 wasn’t online. And the code wasn’t a breach of security. Sabrina knew exactly what had tripped the alarm. Lansik had installed alerts on every clean-water flushing tank so that when an oversized object fell in, an alarm would go off. Anna Copello’s body definitely constituted an oversized object and had tripped the alarm.

Sabrina wedged herself between the building and a scrawny line of crepe myrtles. Her heart banged against her rib cage. She couldn’t think. Instead, her mind sounded its own alarm, drumming over and over again. Why the hell was Anna even there? Did she really believe she could gain something by honing in on Sabrina’s meeting with Ernie Walker? One thing was for certain, Anna could not have been the target. And that man, whoever he was, was not Ernie Walker, the plant manager.

Sabrina contemplated what to do, where to go. If the man realized his mistake, if he heard Sabrina’s scream or saw her down below, would he check the lab? Would he find her office? Should she go to one of the security outposts? Would they even believe her? What would she tell them? She wasn’t even sure what had happened.

She made her way along the side of the building until she could cross between the tanker trucks, using them for cover. One of the drivers waved her out of the way. She found relief in the organized chaos despite filling her aching lungs with diesel fumes. She continued to glance over her shoulder, suddenly aware that the noise would camouflage his following her. But he couldn’t attack, not here, not out in the open.

She wanted to run again, but instead quickened her pace and wove her way under catwalks and behind tanks. Two men in hard hats looked up at her while they struggled with a lever on what Sabrina knew to be a shutoff valve. She checked their faces and wondered if she’d even recognize the man. That’s when she realized she must look a mess, her shirt stained and clinging to her, her shoes and pant legs muddy.

She stayed away from the administration buildings, circling to the parking lot. Her fingers grasped and held on to the car keys in her trouser pocket. Her heartbeat throbbed in her head and she stepped to its rhythm, hoping it would keep her from panicking and running. She didn’t need to think beyond getting across this parking lot and finding her rental car.

What the hell color was it? Why couldn’t she remember?

Before the panic dismantled her, she saw the corner space where she always parked. Thank God for routine. Now all that was left was to get inside, start the engine and get the hell away from there.

Washington, D.C.

Natalie Richards poured herself a second glass of wine. She needed to sip, not gulp, this one. Her boss would certainly understand, but Natalie knew her own limits. She’d wait until after their phone call before she had a third. She checked her cell phone to make sure it was turned on, then she set it aside and dropped onto the sofa.

She had kicked off her shoes at the door and peeled out of her panty hose. The tension in her shoulders and at the pit of her stomach wouldn’t leave, though she was determined to get both under control. This was the earliest she had gotten home in months and thankfully it was peaceful for a change. Her sons and ex-husband were somewhere in Michigan at a campground on a lake in the middle of nowhere. It was supposed to be a three-week vacation. She’d give them three days, maybe four, and they’d be begging and bargaining for a PlayStation or an Internet connection. As nice as the silence was, she missed them—all three of them.

Ron had offered to take the boys when Natalie thought she’d be accompanying her boss to the energy summit in Florida. “You go to Florida and treat yourself to a few extra days. You never do that,” Ron had told her. “The boys and I have been talking about fishing with my dad for over two years. We’ll just do it.”

He’d say things like that and she forgot why she divorced the man, especially since Natalie knew how much of a sacrifice it was for Ron Richards to spend three weeks in the wilderness, no matter how much he loved his boys. And despite what Natalie told anyone, she had liked the idea of going to Florida and possibly tacking on a few extra days so she could enjoy an afternoon at the beach. The Reid Estate sounded like a paradise retreat, fifteen acres overlooking the Gulf of Mexico with a private coastline of sugar-white beach. But now for sure she’d be staying in Washington, D.C.

Her boss had called Zach Kensor’s death “unfortunate” and “collateral damage.” “Sometimes it takes sacrifice and loss for a greater cause,” was another phrase. Natalie knew all that. It was exactly the sort of thing she had tried to use to reassure Colin Jernigan. It hadn’t relieved Colin’s guilt, nor would it relieve Natalie’s. And for a man like Colin who had seen more crime scenes and collateral damage than Natalie watched on TV, guilt was a frivolous emotion and definitely one she didn’t expect to see in him. Of course, all that guilt was before the fingerprint match. Either way it didn’t really matter. It was a mess and it would be up to Natalie to figure out how to clean it up. And do it in forty-eight hours.

Her cell phone startled her. She jerked enough to spill merlot on her white carpet. She cursed under her breath and grabbed for the phone, sitting up and gathering her thoughts, then finally hitting Talk.

“This is Natalie,” she said only because she knew her boss hated to ask.

“You’re not gonna believe the size of the fish I caught.”

It took Natalie a second or two before she sighed and sank back into the sofa.

“My baby boy caught a fish?” And she smiled at his groan. Oh, how he hated when she called him her baby boy, but he was and always would be.

Maybe it was only the wine that made her a bit teary-eyed as she listened to Tyrell tell his fish story. She smiled at the excitement in his voice and suddenly she couldn’t help wondering about Zach Kensor’s mother.

She bit down on her lip and that was when she decided. Her boss would approve, of that she was certain. Yes, Natalie knew exactly what she was going to do in the next forty-eight hours. What she had to do.

Washington, D.C.

Natalie Richards poured herself a second glass of wine. She needed to sip, not gulp, this one. Her boss would certainly understand, but Natalie knew her own limits. She’d wait until after their phone call before she had a third. She checked her cell phone to make sure it was turned on, then she set it aside and dropped onto the sofa.

She had kicked off her shoes at the door and peeled out of her panty hose. The tension in her shoulders and at the pit of her stomach wouldn’t leave, though she was determined to get both under control. This was the earliest she had gotten home in months and thankfully it was peaceful for a change. Her sons and ex-husband were somewhere in Michigan at a campground on a lake in the middle of nowhere. It was supposed to be a three-week vacation. She’d give them three days, maybe four, and they’d be begging and bargaining for a PlayStation or an Internet connection. As nice as the silence was, she missed them—all three of them.

Ron had offered to take the boys when Natalie thought she’d be accompanying her boss to the energy summit in Florida. “You go to Florida and treat yourself to a few extra days. You never do that,” Ron had told her. “The boys and I have been talking about fishing with my dad for over two years. We’ll just do it.”

He’d say things like that and she forgot why she divorced the man, especially since Natalie knew how much of a sacrifice it was for Ron Richards to spend three weeks in the wilderness, no matter how much he loved his boys. And despite what Natalie told anyone, she had liked the idea of going to Florida and possibly tacking on a few extra days so she could enjoy an afternoon at the beach. The Reid Estate sounded like a paradise retreat, fifteen acres overlooking the Gulf of Mexico with a private coastline of sugar-white beach. But now for sure she’d be staying in Washington, D.C.

Her boss had called Zach Kensor’s death “unfortunate” and “collateral damage.” “Sometimes it takes sacrifice and loss for a greater cause,” was another phrase. Natalie knew all that. It was exactly the sort of thing she had tried to use to reassure Colin Jernigan. It hadn’t relieved Colin’s guilt, nor would it relieve Natalie’s. And for a man like Colin who had seen more crime scenes and collateral damage than Natalie watched on TV, guilt was a frivolous emotion and definitely one she didn’t expect to see in him. Of course, all that guilt was before the fingerprint match. Either way it didn’t really matter. It was a mess and it would be up to Natalie to figure out how to clean it up. And do it in forty-eight hours.

Her cell phone startled her. She jerked enough to spill merlot on her white carpet. She cursed under her breath and grabbed for the phone, sitting up and gathering her thoughts, then finally hitting Talk.

“This is Natalie,” she said only because she knew her boss hated to ask.

“You’re not gonna believe the size of the fish I caught.”

It took Natalie a second or two before she sighed and sank back into the sofa.

“My baby boy caught a fish?” And she smiled at his groan. Oh, how he hated when she called him her baby boy, but he was and always would be.

Maybe it was only the wine that made her a bit teary-eyed as she listened to Tyrell tell his fish story. She smiled at the excitement in his voice and suddenly she couldn’t help wondering about Zach Kensor’s mother.

She bit down on her lip and that was when she decided. Her boss would approve, of that she was certain. Yes, Natalie knew exactly what she was going to do in the next forty-eight hours. What she had to do.

EchoEnergy

William Sidel had almost escaped his office for a late round of golf when Van Dorn, his head of security, called. He was tempted to have his secretary tell the man he was already gone, but this was what he had hung around for, anxious and curious. He waved his secretary to take off for the day. It was after five.

“Hey, Van.” Sidel used it like a nickname only because he could never remember the guy’s first name.

“We’ve had an accident. A worker in one of the tanks.”

That’s what he liked about Van Dorn, quick and to the point.

Sidel was alone in his office. He allowed a smile, but kept his voice concerned. “What are you talking about? What kind of accident?”

Finally Dr. Galloway wouldn’t be interfering. This close to the vote and to the energy summit, it was better this way. They couldn’t take any chances.

“I’ve gone ahead and called the county sheriff’s department.”

Sidel’s smile disappeared and he gripped the phone. “I’m not sure I understand,” he said when he wanted to yell,
What the fuck did you do?
“I thought you said it was an accident?”

“Just following procedure, sir.”

“Of course,” Sidel said. He’d fire the bastard next week. “I have a previous engagement,” Sidel continued, glad the golf clubs were already in his Beemer. “I trust you to handle things. Make sure I get a report in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sidel had barely hung up the phone when it started ringing again. He was going to ignore it then noticed it was his direct line.

“Sidel.”

“We’ve got a problem.”

“I just heard. I’m letting Van Dorn talk to the deputies. He called them, let him deal with them.”

“We have a bigger problem than that.”

“What are you talking about?” Sidel stood at his wall of glass, looking down as if he might be able to see what was going on.

“It’s the wrong scientist.”

“How is that possible?”

“Copello was jealous of Galloway. Maybe she thought she’d get a heads-up on what was going on.”

“I thought scientists weren’t supposed to get jealous.” Sidel delivered the dig and let it hang there a second or two before he added, “It wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. Was Galloway even there?”

“Yes, her security key card shows her entering and leaving the building through the rear door that goes directly to the outside.”

Sidel hated silence in conversation, but this time he needed to shut up and wield it to his advantage.

“I’ll take care of this.”

“No,” Sidel cut the caller off. “You had your chance. Now we’ll play it my way.”

He slammed the phone back on its cradle and yanked open his desk drawer. Under a spilled bag of peppermint candies he found his little black book. It was an insurance policy he added to on a regular basis, but used only in extreme circumstances. The pages were filled with private phone numbers and coded names so that only he knew who they belonged to. He easily found the first of the numbers he needed under LCS and punched it.

“Hello?”

“Lyle, it’s William Sidel.”

“Mr. Sidel, what can I do for you?”

“A couple of your deputies are on their way out here.”

“I heard about that. Sounds like a god-awful accident.”

“I wish it were an accident, Lyle, but it looks like you’ll need to call out the boys from the State Patrol. One of my scientists just killed her coworker.”