Whitewash (66 page)

This is what had happened to Dwight Lansik,
Sabrina told herself as she looked over the railing down into the swirling tank of chicken guts. All that was left of him was a piece of his watch and a glob of tissue. She might not even be that lucky. And yet all she could think about was her dad. He had lost so much. For his daughter to literally become a part of a scientific formula seemed a particularly cruel injustice.

O’Hearn had ended up being the one dragging and prodding her. Her wrist hurt. So did her jaw. She had tried to twist away from him and he slapped her hard. His hit man followed, wiping sweat from his forehead, using tissues from a small packet. He seemed indifferent, almost reluctant, not exactly cold and calculating like she imagined a hit man would be. O’Hearn, on the other hand, acted like a man on speed, pumped full of energy, jerky and anxious and strong.

Leon pocketed her wireless earbud as soon as he noticed it. Oddly he didn’t mention it to O’Hearn. He had plucked it off as they left the lab and slipped it into his trouser pocket without a word or a look. So there was no longer a way for her to even get a message to Russ and Howard. It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t be able to hear her.

The steel-grated catwalk swayed and vibrated from the steady rumble of pulleys, engines and conveyor belts down below. A few tanker trucks started to load and unload. Up here, three stories above the noise, no one would notice a wave for help or a scream or even a gunshot.

Leon pulled out O’Hearn’s gun now. He flipped open the chamber and looked at O’Hearn.

“Loaded,” he said. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Then suddenly he surprised both of them by shoving the gun’s muzzle up against O’Hearn’s temple.

“What the hell is this?”

Sabrina could hear the panic in O’Hearn’s voice despite the roar of trucks below and the whine of conveyor belts.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Leon said. “I have a new client. Sorry to drag you up here, ma’am, but I’d never get him all the way out here without you.” He managed a casual glance at Sabrina. The gun didn’t budge from O’Hearn’s head. “You’re free to go.”

“Excuse me?”

O’Hearn still had a grip on her arm, and now his fingernails were digging deep into her skin. Maybe this was part of some sick joke between the two of them. But Leon gave the muzzle another shove, this one enough to tilt O’Hearn’s head to the side.

“Let her go before I start breaking your fingers one by one.”

“This is ridiculous.” But O’Hearn let go, giving her a hard shove.

Sabrina slammed against the railing. It hit her in the small of her back, the force enough to throw her off balance. She grabbed on to the railing, trying to steady herself. A slightly harder shove would have sent her over. She didn’t know if she could trust him. After all, she had seen him bash Anna when Anna wasn’t looking. Would he do the same to her as soon as she turned her back?

Her eyes met Leon’s and in what looked like an afterthought he said, “Tell your neighbor I don’t plan on coming back down to Florida for a while.”

Miss Sadie,
of course. She really had made some kind of deal with this man. How was that possible?

Sabrina didn’t hesitate this time. She gripped the railing and hand over hand found her way to the end of the catwalk. She didn’t look back. She crawled down the steel ladder, missing the last step and stumbling to the ground. Somewhere in the distance she thought she could hear a security alarm going off. It had to be her imagination, triggered by the memory of the last time she had fled this place.

Anyone who saw her—and employees’ vehicles had started to come onto the grounds—might think she was getting in a morning run before work. Except she didn’t stick to the sidewalks, or the roads. She took the shortest route, over landscaped berms, through the middle of parking lots and around tanker trucks. And she didn’t stop until she hit the tall grass.

She found the rubber waders where she had left them and struggled to pull them up over her running shoes and sweaty legs. All the while she watched where she had just come from, her heart pounding, her breathing coming in machine-gun gasps. She expected to find someone racing to stop her, especially now that she could hear the alarm. It was not her imagination.

Sabrina stumbled through the trees, her feet suddenly awkward and heavy. She skidded to a halt at the riverbank and thought she’d faint from the wonderful sight of the boat and Howard waving frantically at her. She was so relieved that when she felt the hand on her shoulder she simply froze. She closed her eyes, not wanting to look, too exhausted to fight or care.

“I had to do something.” She heard Russ’s voice and she opened her eyes to see him, beside her now. He was dripping wet, his shaved head glistening, but he was smiling. He put his arm around her shoulder and she leaned against him to get her balance back. He smelled of river water and perspiration.

“You pulled an alarm somewhere,” she said.

“Yeah, so we better get the hell out of here.”

Soon her concern switched to snakes again. By the time she flopped onto the boat she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be getting seasick on the trip back.

Tallahassee Regional Airport

Natalie Richards stepped the short distance from the airport doors into the waiting limousine and yet she could swear she felt her hair already frizzle in the hot, humid air. Colin Jernigan was waiting for her inside the car. He smiled at her patting her hair.

“This might help.” He handed her a glass of something frosty and lime green with a spear of fruit balanced against the rim.

“You do know how to pick up a girl in style.”

She slid in, taking the seat opposite him. She carefully set down a long, narrow, gift-wrapped box beside her before she accepted the drink from him. She took a sip, smooth and tangy. If all went well she hoped to treat herself with a day or two of these on a beach.

“You really didn’t have to bring me a gift.”

“This?” She held up the package carefully, almost reverently, with her free hand. “This is the only reason I am here.”

“That’s some special delivery.”

“I told you we like to do things the old-fashioned way. My boss wants to make sure the president receives this gift before the reception tonight.”

“Must be something special indeed.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Natalie said, waving her hand at him like she usually did when emphasizing a point. “You have any idea how difficult it is to find a solid-red silk necktie on short notice?” Actually, finding a solid-red necktie had been quite easy, but joking about it helped her stop thinking about it and treating the necktie like it was a ticking bomb.

She took another sip of the glorious creation. The last-minute trip preparations had been the least of her unraveling. Things were moving fast, locking into place. Yes, both of them were being a bit flippant, a tactic to relieve tension and stress. Like soldiers in a war zone or cops at a grisly crime scene. She and Colin were the only ones who truly knew how close to out of control this situation had gotten.

Now in a matter of hours they would know whether or not they had succeeded in foiling a terrorist plot or had succeeded in instigating one.

Tallahassee Regional Airport

Natalie Richards stepped the short distance from the airport doors into the waiting limousine and yet she could swear she felt her hair already frizzle in the hot, humid air. Colin Jernigan was waiting for her inside the car. He smiled at her patting her hair.

“This might help.” He handed her a glass of something frosty and lime green with a spear of fruit balanced against the rim.

“You do know how to pick up a girl in style.”

She slid in, taking the seat opposite him. She carefully set down a long, narrow, gift-wrapped box beside her before she accepted the drink from him. She took a sip, smooth and tangy. If all went well she hoped to treat herself with a day or two of these on a beach.

“You really didn’t have to bring me a gift.”

“This?” She held up the package carefully, almost reverently, with her free hand. “This is the only reason I am here.”

“That’s some special delivery.”

“I told you we like to do things the old-fashioned way. My boss wants to make sure the president receives this gift before the reception tonight.”

“Must be something special indeed.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Natalie said, waving her hand at him like she usually did when emphasizing a point. “You have any idea how difficult it is to find a solid-red silk necktie on short notice?” Actually, finding a solid-red necktie had been quite easy, but joking about it helped her stop thinking about it and treating the necktie like it was a ticking bomb.

She took another sip of the glorious creation. The last-minute trip preparations had been the least of her unraveling. Things were moving fast, locking into place. Yes, both of them were being a bit flippant, a tactic to relieve tension and stress. Like soldiers in a war zone or cops at a grisly crime scene. She and Colin were the only ones who truly knew how close to out of control this situation had gotten.

Now in a matter of hours they would know whether or not they had succeeded in foiling a terrorist plot or had succeeded in instigating one.

EchoEnergy

Leon couldn’t believe how bad this guy smelled. He almost smelled worse than the chicken guts down below. And he was pathetic, too. A grown man pissing his pants.

“Not so brilliant now, huh, Doc?”

“Who paid you?” O’Hearn wanted to know. “It was Sidel, wasn’t it?”

Leon simply shook his head, not as an answer so much as out of disgust. He never understood why anyone wasted his dying breath wanting to know who had done him in.

He had the mad scientist backed against the railing, sweating and crying and pissing his pants. His forehead was raw where Leon had pressed and jabbed the barrel of the gun. If the idiot would hold still instead of jerking around, this part wouldn’t have to hurt.

“Please don’t kill me.” It was a whimper. Finally, maybe the asshole would settle down. Leon liked the idea of making him squirm a little. Maybe just because this whole goddamn job had been such a bitch.

Christ! It was hot up here now that the sun had broken out of the trees. All this fucking steel and concrete. And that stink! Leon would be glad to finish this up and finally get back home.

Somewhere down below he heard an alarm. He cocked his head, trying to listen over the groans of hydraulics and the roar of motors. Or was it a siren? That Galloway woman wouldn’t have been so stupid to sic the security guards on him, would she?

It distracted Leon. Sent his eyes off O’Hearn long enough for the scientist to notice. Long enough for O’Hearn to believe he had one desperate chance left. He grabbed for the gun. Son of a bitch! Leon pushed back, but the guy was already attached. Why the hell did they always grab for the gun?

The mad little scientist was strong. He arm wrestled Leon so that both of them were pressed against the railing. Leon tried to keep his footing solid while O’Hearn dug long fingernails into his skin. He tried to keep his own finger on the trigger, but O’Hearn had managed to shove their arms down, against each other’s bellies. And now Leon knew his best option was to shift the balance. Use his bulk to shove the madman over the railing.

He had O’Hearn where he wanted him. He just needed to brace himself against the railing and kick one of O’Hearn’s legs. The man’s grimace tilted up right into Leon’s face. It wasn’t a pretty sight: gritted yellowed teeth, silver goatee glistening with spittle, eyes wide, forehead veins bulging. And there was a growl. Even with all the surrounding noise Leon could hear the madman growling like some rabid dog.

Leon had control. He had the advantage of a solid balance. He was ready to fling the little bastard over the railing. There were two gunshots. Leon wasn’t sure he would have even recognized them as gunshots, both muffled and small, but their force jabbed both men.

Leon watched O’Hearn’s grimace slide into shock—raised eyebrows, eyes still wide. The struggle stopped. O’Hearn slipped away, falling sideways, his torso simply tipping over the railing. There was no grasping, no straining, no scream. And Leon stood still, staring as another scientist plunged into the churning feedstock.

It wasn’t until Leon swung his legs over the catwalk to connect with the steel ladder down that he realized it wasn’t all O’Hearn’s blood on the front of his shirt. He could feel the pain in his side with every step.

The sirens were louder on the ground. He’d never make it to the back parking lot where he’d left his latest ride. And he couldn’t just walk out of here with all this blood. What an absolute fucking way to end. That fortune-teller was probably smiling somewhere about now.

Leon thought for sure he was fucked until he saw the Pepsi truck. The driver was closing up the back, getting ready to move out. Leon made a dash for the truck, running between whining conveyor belts and making it to the passenger door without anyone noticing. Or at least he hoped. He opened the door and pulled himself up into the seat just as the driver opened his door on the other side. Leon showed him the gun, keeping it down on the seat.

“Get in.”

The guy obeyed, climbing up behind the wheel, staring at the bloody mess that covered the front of Leon’s shirt.

“I won’t hurt you,” Leon said, trying not to concentrate on the fire starting to sear his insides. “I just need a ride out of this goddamn place.”

The guy continued to stare for a minute or two. Leon wondered if maybe he should shove him out and attempt to drive the truck himself. They didn’t stop employees or vendors on the way out of the park. Finally the guy pulled on his seat belt and started the engine. But he stopped before he put it into gear and glanced over at Leon.

“Do you like the Boss, Rolling Stones or the Doobie Brothers?”