And Then You Die (11 page)

“Esteban didn't broadcast what he was doing, but I knew he didn't like what he found.”

“What . . . did he find?”

“Immune antibodies.”

“You can't know that.”

“Yes, I can. I stole one of the blood samples from the hospital lab before I took you out of San Andreas. Ed ran a test last night. There was too much deterioration for it to be useful, but it tested positive for immunity. Do you know what that means? It may cut the time for developing a serum from nearly a year to weeks or even days.” He paused. “That's why you can't take any risks. You're the answer, Bess. We'll need to take frequent blood samples from you so the CDC can work on a cure that will stop Esteban in his tracks.”

The answer. She didn't want to be the answer to anything. She just wanted everything to be as it was before Tenajo. She just wanted Emily to be alive and well.

And Emily
was
alive. She had almost let Kaldak convince her that her sister was dead, that she was in that funeral home in New Orleans. “I'm going to see her.”

“They'll be waiting for you.”

“So you need to protect your precious blood supply. I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but you'll have to take a new sample in New Orleans.” She added bitterly, “Unless you want to follow in Esteban's footsteps and lock me up and keep me under sedation.”

“That option has been suggested.” When she stiffened, he added roughly, “Do you think I'd let them do that to you? I'm just telling you so you'll realize how important this is. Ramsey didn't even want me to tell you about your sister's death.”

“She's not dead,” she said woodenly.

“If you believe that, why run the risk of walking into Esteban's trap?”

Because she had to know, she had to be sure. “If I'm immune, then Emily is too. She's my sister, and she's always been healthier than me. I'm the one who always caught the colds and the––”

“It doesn't work like that,” he said gently.

“And Josie,” she said desperately. “What about Josie? Josie didn't die. Josie has to be immune too.”

He shook his head. “Josie has no immune antibodies. Esteban lost interest in her almost immediately. She was just lucky enough not to have been exposed to the money by actual physical contact. Your sister and you were going from house to house and had to come into contact with the money at some point.”

The cantina, the general store––she couldn't remember all the places. They hadn't put on the gloves and masks until after they had examined the bodies in the cantina. Had she and Emily touched the pesos, pushed them aside as they tried to help––

She was becoming frightened. Kaldak's logic was too convincing and she had to shut it out. “It's not true. It's not her. Take me to New Orleans and let me show you.”

He didn't move.

Her hands clenched at her sides. “Please, Kaldak,” she whispered. “Please.”

“
Goddammit
.” He turned on the ignition. “It's faster to go back to Atlanta. We can get a direct flight to New Orleans from there.”

Relief flooded her. “Thank you, Kaldak.”

“For what?” He entered the highway with a violence that caused the tires to squeal. “Being stupid? Taking a chance that may get you killed? Taking a chance that could kill a city?” He picked up the telephone and dialed a number. “We're coming, Ramsey.” He listened for a moment and then said, “I don't give a damn. We're coming. So pull out the stops on security.” He pressed the end button and dialed again. “Meet us at the Atlanta airport at the Hertz check-in desk in an hour, Ed. I'll have the sample for you.” He hung up again. “When we get to the airport, I need to take blood from you and give it to Ed Katz.”

“How are––”

“I told Ed to include a kit in the briefcase he gave me this morning. I knew I'd have to get a sample to him as soon as possible.”

“So you were prepared,” she said slowly. “When were you going to tell me?”

“After I had you safe. But I wanted to tell you right away.”

“Then why didn't you?”

“I couldn't risk it. You couldn't think of anything but your sister. If you knew how valuable you were to Esteban, you might have tried to arrange a swap for Emily.”

“And you couldn't permit that.”

“I couldn't permit that,” he said grimly. “Any more than I can take you to New Orleans without getting that sample. It will give Ed a small chance even if Esteban kills you.”

The bluntness of his words should have unnerved her, but it didn't. She had to retain control, or she would fly into a thousand pieces. She had to hold herself together until she got to Em––Oh, God, it couldn't be Emily.

Emily was safe, hiding somewhere in those hills in Mexico. There were so many places to hide. She and Josie had found caves and hollows and––

It wasn't Emily.

Ten

The Duples Funeral Home was a large white building. The paint was starting to peel and the lawn was yellowing in patches. A statue of a winged angel with a trumpet was balanced on a pedestal beside the front door.

Was the angel supposed to be Gabriel? Bess wondered dully. Emily would have hated this place. She always liked things neat and well kept.

Kaldak's grasp tightened on her elbow. “You can change your mind.”

She shook her head and quickened her pace up the walk. Just get it over with, she told herself. Find out they'd made a huge mistake and then get out of there.

“You've gone too far, Kaldak.” A tall, gray-haired man stepped out from an alcove. “My God, do you
want
them to put her down?”

“It's your job to see that they don't, Ramsey. Have you checked out the funeral home?”

“Yes. Get her out of here.”

Kaldak glanced at the row of houses across the street. “What about those?”

Ramsey nodded curtly. “We went through them. No snipers. I had to tell them we were having a presidential visit. They'll probably call their congressman. Why the hell would the president come here?”

Kaldak's gaze went beyond him to the foyer. “Where is she?”

“First room on the left.” Ramsey's glance moved to Bess. “It's a waste of time, Ms. Grady. You don't want to do this. It's a closed casket.”

“Why?”

Ramsey shifted uneasily. “She died in the hills and was buried there. It was hot and conditions weren't conducive to––”

“You're saying Esteban dug up her body and sent her here?” Callous and hideous. As hideous as digging a hole and tossing a woman in it in the first place.

But it hadn't happened to Emily. It was someone else in that room.

She opened the door and went inside. First room on the left. An oak casket in the center. Candles burning at either end. No flowers. Where were the flowers?

Her chest was constricting. She couldn't breathe.

“Bess.” Kaldak was beside her.

She moistened her lips. “Open it.”

“No.”

“Open it, Kaldak.”

“You heard Ramsey. You don't want to see––”

“I have to see. I have to know. Open it, or I'll do it myself.”

He muttered a curse and stepped forward. He threw open the lid of the coffin.

She would take just one look and she would know they were wrong.

Just one look and it would be over.

Oh, Jesus!

Kaldak caught her when she fell.

“Emily.”

“Hush.” Kaldak was carrying her, climbing stairs, she realized vaguely. The stairs leading to her apartment. How had they gotten there? “Don't think. Just try to sleep.”

“I didn't believe––”

“I know.”

“Was she in pain?”

“Not for long.”

“They just threw her in the ground, Kaldak. They just tossed her away.” Her fingers were digging into his shoulders. “No one deserves–– Emily was so bright and warm and–– I didn't say good-bye. I just gave her Josie and ran out the door. I should have said good-bye.”

“She would have understood.”

“But I should have––”

“Please stop crying.”

Was she crying? She couldn't feel the tears. Her entire body ached like an open wound. “I'm sorry.”

“I didn't mean––” He sat down in a chair and held her on his lap. “Cry. Hit me. Do whatever you like. Just don't––” He was rocking her back and forth. “Don't
hurt
like this.”

“I can't help it. She's . . . dead. Emily's dead.” The truth was tearing her apart. Emily was lying in that shiny oak box at the funeral home. Emily would never laugh or smile or boss her around ever.

“It will be all right.” Kaldak's low voice was agonized. “It will get better. I promise, it will get better.”

How could it get better?

Emily was dead.

Kaldak carefully put Bess down on the bed and drew the coverlet over her. He hoped she wouldn't wake up right away. It had taken hours for her to fall asleep. He left her bedroom and gently closed the door.

He dropped into an easy chair and leaned his head back. He never wanted to go through anything like that again. He had felt her pain and her loss as if they were his own. The loss did belong to him, the loss and the responsibility and the guilt. Oh, God, yes, the guilt.

Stop thinking about it. It was over. Now he had to find a way to protect Bess, to keep her from suffering ever again.

Yeah, sure.

His gaze wandered around the small living room of the apartment. The furniture was simple and clean-lined except for the beige and burgundy striped chair and couch. The photographs on the wall were striking: one little black girl with enormous wistful eyes, Jimmy Carter in shirtsleeves at a Habitat site, the Somalian bandit he had mentioned to Bess. On the end table were family pictures: a much younger Emily in shorts and T-shirt on a swing beside a river. Emily in a wedding gown standing beside a tall man in a tuxedo. Emily and a little red-haired girl with bold, curious eyes. All Emily.

He glanced away to the Persian rug covering the oak floor and then to the plants that filled the room.

Plants.

He touched the African violets on the table beside him. Real.

He reached for his telephone and dialed Ramsey.

“You told me the apartment was safe,” he said when Ramsey answered. “Bess is out of the country most of the time. Who has a key to get in to water her plants?”

“It is safe. Her landlord comes in twice a week. He hasn't been approached by anyone. Someone does know their job besides you, Kaldak.”

“Sorry.”

“How is she?”

“How do you think she is?”

“I told you that you shouldn't have brought her.”

“No sign of Esteban?”

“Not yet. But you know he has someone here.”

Yes, he knew it. Esteban would have had a man at the funeral home and he knew exactly where Bess was right now. “Did you check on the air freight service?”

“They were just doing a job. Maybe a little too willing to accept forged papers, but that's all.” Ramsey paused. “We need to talk.”

“Later. I'm not leaving her.”

“What about the blood test?”

“We think it's positive. I'm calling Ed Katz to verify the results on the new sample.”

“Positive?” Ramsey swore softly. “And you still let her come here? Are you nuts?”

“Probably.” He changed the subject. “Has Yael checked in?”

“Not since yesterday, but he's on his way here. When are you taking her to the safe house?”

“Why don't you worry about finding that counterfeiting center and lab in Iowa and let me worry about Bess?”

“Because you're not worrying enough about her. You're going to get her killed and then where will we be if Esteban moves ahead with––”

“I'll call you back.” Kaldak hung up the phone. He didn't need Ramsey to tell him how reckless he was acting. He dialed Ed Katz in Atlanta.

“It's a definite.” Ed's excited words tumbled over one another. “We can work with it. But we need more, much more.”

“What do you want me to do? Drain her veins?”

“No, no, of course not. But it wouldn't hurt to get me another sample right away.”

“I'll get it when I can.”

“Right away.”

“She just saw her sister dead in a coffin.”

“Oh.” Ed paused. “Too bad. But maybe you could explain to her how important it is to––”

“Good-bye, Ed.”

“Wait. She's upset?”

“Of course she's upset.”

“Don't give her a sedative. It would compromise the results of the next batch that you––”

“I'll give her whatever she needs. If I have to knock her out for the next twenty-four hours, I'll do it.”

“You don't need to get testy. It's your ball game. Just send me something as soon as you can.”

Kaldak slid the phone back into his pocket.

It's your ball game.

Yes, it was his game and he was being permitted to call the shots. A dubious honor given him only because nobody else wanted to stick his neck out. Too many things could go wrong. Hell, too many things had already gone wrong. So far only one thing in the entire unholy mess had gone right, Bess's immunity factor.

So he was supposed to treat Bess as if she were a lab animal. To hell with what she felt or thought. To hell with individual freedom, think of the public good. Use her.

It made him sick. It was a nightmare that had gone on too long.

He was afraid that he couldn't do it any longer.

And he was more afraid that he could.

“She took the bait?” Esteban felt a rush of pleasure.

“She's there?”

“She collapsed at the funeral home,” Marco De Salmo said. “She's at her apartment now. Kaldak is with her.”

“Any way of getting to her?”

“Security is tight, real tight. I didn't have a chance at the funeral home.”

“But you've been hired to get around it, Marco,” Esteban said softly. “I'm sure you'll be successful. We don't have much time. They'll whisk her away and hide her as soon as they can. I can't tell you how displeased I'd be if that happened after I've gone to all this trouble.”

“I've bugged the phone. And I'm watching the apartment. We won't lose her again.”

“I hope not. Every minute she's alive is a dangerous minute. For you as well as for her.”

There was a silence. “I'll find a way.”

“I have every confidence.” He hung up the phone. He did have a certain amount of confidence in De Salmo. He'd found him very efficient if a little lacking in imagination. Imagination was a great asset in an assassin. Kaldak had imagination, and it was one of his most valuable qualities.

“It's a call from Mr. Morrisey on your portable phone.” Perez was standing in the doorway. “You said you'd take his calls anytime.”

Morrisey. Eagerness shot through Esteban as he reached for the phone. Of course he wanted to talk to him. He'd been waiting on pins and needles for weeks. It had taken Morrisey too long already to locate the right man. “You've found him?”

“Cody Jeffers. Twenty-one. A loner. Starstruck. Brags a lot. He's a minor driver in the demolition derby here. He's been hanging around the track for the past couple of weeks and bothering the headliners. He came in third and fourth in a couple of minor derbies, but he gambles the prize money away as fast as he gets it. Sound like the man you want?”

Excitement was soaring through Esteban. “Exactly.”

“Do you want me to approach him for you?”

“No, I'll do it myself.” This part of his plan was too crucial to be handled by underlings. Jeffers was to be the linchpin and must be absolutely right. “Where is he?”

“Here in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Majestic Hotel. A fleabag near the track.”

“Meet me at the airport. I'll be there tomorrow morning. Perez will call and let you know the flight number.”

He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. The Grady woman would soon be dead and the linchpin had been found.

Things were moving forward very satisfactorily.

Light was streaming through the lace curtains at the window. Bess had always loved that misty, patterned look. She'd bought the lace in Amsterdam, framed it with striped wool draperies, and made sure the curtains hung straight, with no fussy flounces. She'd bought a length for Emily too, and Emily had ordered curtains made for Julie's room. Emily had laughed and said that she would have never dreamed Bess liked lace, that it didn't suit her personality at––

Emily.

Pain tore through Bess and she closed her eyes tightly, blocking out the thought of her sister.

“Don't go back to sleep.”

Her eyes opened, and she saw Kaldak sitting beside the bed.

“You've been asleep for ten hours,” he said quietly. “You need to eat now.”

She shook her head.

“Yes.” He stood up. “I'll go fix you soup and a sandwich.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You have to eat anyway. Go take a shower and dress.” He left the room.

He was back to being cool and decisive, she realized. Yet last night he had held her in his arms for hours and rocked her and agonized with her as if Emily had been his sister too.

Emily.

“Get up,” he called from the kitchen.

To hell with him. She didn't want to get up. She wanted to go back to sleep and forget the sight of Emily in that coffin. Oh, Jesus.

He returned, lifted her to her feet, and pushed her gently toward the bathroom. “I'll give you ten minutes. If you're not out of the shower, I'll come in and finish the job.”

She wanted to hit him.

“Life goes on, Bess. You don't heal lying in bed. You heal doing something about it.”

“Stop preaching to me. You don't know how––”

He was gone.

She slammed the bathroom door and leaned against it. She was crying again. “Dammit,” she whispered. “Damn you, Kaldak.”

And damn Esteban, who had killed Emily and had her thrown in a hole in the ground as if she were nothing. Monster. Crawling out from under the rock and tearing, hurting––

“Five minutes, Bess.”

Why wouldn't he stop nagging her? she thought as she stripped off her clothes. He was just like Emily and the way––

Was everything going to remind her of Emily? Kaldak wasn't like Emily. No one was like her.

She turned on the shower and stepped beneath the spray.

Emily had been bright and loyal and loving. And that monster had killed her.

Show them the monsters.

But they all knew who the monster was, and Emily had still died. The monster was walking around, breathing air, eating food, laughing and talking, and Emily was dead.

And Bess was standing there weeping and wailing because “they” had done nothing. It was always “they.” They had done nothing at Tenajo. They had done nothing at Danzar either.

She
had done nothing.

Emily was dead and she was doing nothing.

“Bess?”

Kaldak was standing outside the shower stall. She could see his large frame through the mist on the glass.

“Go away, Kaldak.”

“Come out, your lunch is ready.”

“Go away.”

“You've been in there long enough.” He started to slide the shower door open.