Blind Run (14 page)

“What about now?” she asked. “Are you still in Operations?”

“I left the Agency three years ago.”

She made the connection instantly. “When Nicky died.”

He hesitated. They were skidding close to the one truth he couldn’t reveal without destroying her. “Yes.”

“So you walked out on the Agency as well as me.”

He flattened the impulse to tell her the rest. “I’m not proud of leaving you.”

She seemed to have no answer for that, and time strung out between them, brittle and seemingly endless. She was the first to drop her gaze, and only then could he breathe. It took a few minutes, but she regained control, her anger focusing her thoughts like nothing else could.

“So, why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I want you to understand the kind of people we’re dealing with.” And because he needed her to understand he was her best shot at protection. “Ramirez was,”
careful, Decker,
“one of us.”

“A Hunter?”

Again he ignored her sarcasm. “Officially he was part of my unit, but in reality he reported directly to the SCTC director, a man by the name of Avery Cox. Or he used to. I don’t know who pays Ramirez now. I doubt it’s the Agency, but their fingerprints are all over this. The shooter on your balcony, Danny and Callie . . . Anna.”

“You think the Agency is involved?”

“If not the Agency, then some of its people.”

“But isn’t there someone you can call?” A bit of fear had crept back into her voice. “Some way to find out?”

He had considered it, calling Cox, but decided it was too risky. “Not until I have a better idea who’s involved. For now, you have to trust me, Sydney. There—”

She raised a hand to cut him off. “Don’t start that. You’ve just admitted you lied to me for six years. I don’t have to do anything, especially trust you.”

It was the wrong thing to say. “Okay, I guess I deserve that. But you do have to make a decision, and we’re about out of time. Are you coming with me to find Timothy Mulligan?”

She frowned, glanced away, then looked back at him. “I want to call Charles, he’s my—”

“No.” Ethan’s response was automatic and abrupt.

Anger flashed in her eyes again.”What do you mean, ‘no’? He can help us.”

“He can only hurt us. Even if the Agency’s not involved, every police officer in the state is looking for me. They think I’m a cop killer. That means they’re pulling out all the stops. They’ll be everywhere, setting up roadblocks and tapping phones, yours, this”—he about choked on the name—“Charles, and anyone else the authorities think you might contact.”

She didn’t budge, except to lift her chin. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

“Well, I’m not.” His temper snapped, and he moved back to put some distance between them. When he spoke again, it took an effort to keep his tone neutral. “You make a call, and I mean to
anybody
, and they’ve got us. Then the chances of my making it to a jail cell in one piece are zero to none.”

That, at least, seemed to get her attention. “You’re exaggerating. If I tell them—”

“You’ll never get the chance. Two of their own are dead. Someone has got to pay, and at the moment, I’m their prime target.”

She stared at him for long moments, and he could almost see the battle waging within her. But he had his own battles to fight, and his patience was gone.

“Go or stay, Sydney. The choice is yours. But if you stay, you play by my rules.”

“Is this a game, then?”

“The deadliest. Your life is the prize, and those kids . . .” He glanced back at the lodge. “They’re nothing but pawns.”

“You bastard.” Her fist clenched, and for a moment, he thought she’d hit him. He’d almost welcome it.

“Yeah,” he said. “And I play to win.”

He watched her work through it: her anger and the desire to tell him to go to hell, her fear for Danny and Callie, and her acceptance of an intolerable situation. He buried his guilt over manipulating her once more. After all, he’d just given her a chance to survive.

“It looks like I don’t have any choice,” she said finally. “We’ll do it your way.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE NEXT THIRTEEN HOURS
passed in a blur.

Ethan had rented a black late-model Ford Explorer and stocked it with camping gear: sleeping bags and a tent, a cooler filled with bottled water and sandwich meat, and a variety of gadgets to make the outdoors more hospitable. She supposed anyone inspecting the vehicle would think the contents perfect for a family camping trip.

Or, for a group of fugitives.

They started out a little after eight and drove straight through from Dallas to Illinois, stopping only for gas, an occasional bathroom break, and at a drugstore to pick up a few things for Callie.

She’d started coughing, and Sydney was worried she might be coming down with something. Although Danny claimed his sister got carsick, and Callie insisted she was fine, Sydney wasn’t buying it. She remembered their earlier conversation and worried that the girl was sicker than she appeared. So at Sydney’s insistence, they stopped and picked up cough syrup and children’s aspirin. After taking both, Callie drifted off to sleep.

Danny, on the other hand, remained stubbornly awake, refusing to lie down and give into the exhaustion tugging at him. Occasionally Sydney would turn to see him dozing with his head against the window. Then, as if sensing her, he’d open his eyes, straighten in his seat, and pick up his Game Boy. So she stopped checking on him.

Like Danny, she remained awake, her thoughts refusing to shut down as the car streamed along the nearly deserted highway. Within the vehicle’s warm interior, they seemed in a world of their own, protected and isolated from the darkness beyond the glass. The steady hum of the engine and the soft green light of the dashboard lulled her with a sense of normalcy and the feeling that nothing of the past twenty-four hours could touch her here.

Once, when Nicky had been four, the three of them had taken a road trip to San Antonio. Ethan had wanted to show Nicky the Alamo. They’d left on a Friday evening and driven for five hours, Nicky asleep in the backseat. She remembered her feeling of contentment. There had been a rightness to their being together, a sense of belonging to her husband and son.

She could almost imagine the same thing now.

If she threw her thoughts out of focus just a bit, she could pretend they were a family—the four of them. The boy fighting sleep with his head against the window, the little girl stretched out on the seat beside him, and the man, father and lover, protector and provider.

A set of headlights pierced her fantasy, lighting the car’s interior and Ethan’s face. Sydney blinked and turned away, embarrassed and angry at her self-indulgent daydreaming. The approaching car passed and the darkness ebbed in, but her view of the man behind the wheel remained intact.

A man who was no longer her husband, whose hard features bore little resemblance to the man who’d once given her a son. A man she’d pretended was someone else for too many years.

Their trip to San Antonio had been their only family vacation. She’d blamed herself and her busy practice, but she saw now that it hadn’t been her fault. More times than she could count she’d arranged for them to get away together. It had been Ethan who’d never had the time, who’d spent more days and nights away than at home. Ethan who’d always had some business to take care of that no one else could handle.

Strange that she should remember all his excuses now. Odder still that she’d closed her eyes to it during the years of their marriage. If there was blame to accept, it was that she’d let him lie to her and accepted everything at face value—when she should have known better. He wasn’t the type of man to be satisfied as an analyst, or stay in the background while others fought on the front lines.

Ethan had always been a patriot. In Sydney’s world, he’d been something of a novelty. It had been more chic in her circles to slam the country and its government than to support it. On the other hand, Ethan had grown up in a military family. He’d spent seven years in the service, three of them in Special Forces. His father was career Army and his brother had died in Desert Storm. The instinct to serve was born, bred, and trained into him.

How could she fault him for that? Or remain angry when he’d lied in the name of that which came as naturally to him as the beat of his heart: the need to protect. And how could she keep her own defenses in place when he still had the power to weaken her with nothing more than a touch or a smile?

IT WAS MIDMORNING
when they pulled into River Ridge State Park, south of Champaign, Illinois. Both children came fully awake as Ethan parked in front of a low building near the entrance. Danny scooted forward to see through the front windshield, and Callie stared wide-eyed and curious out the side window.

“Why are we stopping?” Danny asked.

Ethan shut off the engine. “We’re getting a cabin.”

“Is that a good idea?” Sydney said.

“No one will look for us here, and we need to rest before we decide on our next step.”

“I want to keep going,” Danny said.

“Be my guest.” Ethan gestured toward the north end of the park. “Champaign is about fifty miles that way.”

Danny opened his mouth to protest, but Sydney placed a hand on his arm. “He’s right, Danny. We’re all tired.”

The boy crossed his arms and shoved back into his seat.

Ethan tossed him a quick frown, then climbed out of the car and entered the building. He returned a few minutes later carrying maps, a parking permit for the dashboard, and a key on a large wooden ring.

“We picked the right time of year,” he said. “The place is almost empty, and we got an isolated site back in the woods.” He glanced at Danny, who remained sullen, staring out the window.

When they pulled into a clearing a few minutes later, Sydney wished again that things were different. The setting reminded her of something out of a child’s picture-book. A modest log cabin sat among towering pines that covered the ground with soft needles. A porch stretched across the front, and a tire swing hung from a nearby oak.

No one spoke as the four of them got out of the vehicle, and Sydney suspected the place had charmed even Ethan. It was the ideal vacation spot for the ideal family. Too bad neither fit their situation.

“It’s like a fairy tale,” Callie said.

Sydney smiled, pleased that the girl’s thoughts had mirrored her own. “Which one? Hopefully not ‘Hansel and Gretel’ or ‘Little Red Riding Hood.’ “

Callie giggled. “No. I think maybe ’snow White’ would be better.”

“Then I guess we’d better watch out for the evil stepmother.” Sydney squeezed Callie’s hand.

Danny rolled his eyes and wandered off to the tire swing, his backpack slung across one shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” Sydney asked, placing a hand on Callie’s forehead. “You feel cooler.”

“I’m fine.”

Sydney smiled, relieved.

“Let’s get inside.” Ethan started for the cabin. “I need a couple hours’ sleep, then I’ll head in to Champaign and talk to Mulligan.”

“Alone?” Sydney asked, following.

“It’s the best way.” Ethan unlocked the door but turned to her before entering. “We can’t all just show up on the man’s doorstep.”

“I agree,” she said. “But I don’t think you’re the one who should approach him.”

“What about me?” Danny asked. Startled, Sydney turned to see the boy standing behind her. “I’m going,” he said.

“Not this time,” Ethan answered, without even looking at him. “You’ll be safe here while—”

“I’m going,” Danny repeated. “And you can’t stop me.”

Ethan turned and leveled a hard stare at the boy. “Don’t count on it, kid.”

Danny climbed the short steps and faced Ethan with an angry glare. “He’s—”

Sydney stepped between them. “Stop it, Ethan. You’re not helping the situation.” Then she turned to Danny. “For once I agree with him. We can’t just show up on Dr. Mulligan’s doorstep.”

Danny shifted his anger to her. “He’ll want to see me.”

“Maybe, but we have to do this right.”

“You can’t keep me here. I want—”

“The four of us haven’t come all this way for nothing,” she said, cutting him off. “We’re here because we believe Dr. Mulligan may be your and Callie’s father.”

“He
is
my father.”

“You can’t be sure of that.” She hated to deflate his hopes, but he had to face the possibility that this was a wild-goose chase. “Not until we talk to him.”

Danny clamped his mouth shut, his jaw working.

“Even if Timothy Mulligan is your father, he won’t recognize you,” she continued more gently. “You don’t remember living anywhere but the Haven, which means you were a baby when they took you from your parents. So if you just show up, claiming to be this man’s son, he’ll think it’s some kind of bad joke.”

Danny’s frown deepened, but she could tell she was getting through to him. He wasn’t stupid.

“You’ve waited this long,” she said. “Just give it a few more hours. If Dr. Mulligan turns out to be your father, we’ll know it soon.”
And hopefully, he’ll want you back.
She couldn’t say that, however, not to this boy who desperately wanted to find his family.

Although still obviously unhappy, Danny didn’t have an immediate reply, so she shifted her attention to Ethan. “But I think I should be the one to talk to Mulligan.”

“Forget it.” Ethan went inside, leaving her standing with the children on the porch.

It took her a minute to push down her annoyance. She’d had it with Ethan’s heavy-handedness. She wasn’t used to taking orders without question and refused to take a backseat and let him make all the decisions without her input. If they were going to help these children, they were going to do it together.

To Danny and Callie she said, “Give us a few minutes, will you?”

Danny frowned but led Callie back over to the tire swing.

Sydney followed Ethan into the cabin. It was sparsely furnished with a pair of bunk beds, a dresser, and a chair. All the pieces appeared handcrafted from some light wood, making the room warm and appealing. Ethan had stowed his duffel under one of the bunks and stretched out on the unmade mattress.

“I want to talk about this,” she said.

He folded his hands under his head and closed his eyes. “I don’t.”

Again, she had to tamp down a rush of irritation. Giving in to her temper would get her nowhere. “You’re the one who told me every cop in the Midwest is looking for you,” she said.

“They’re looking for you, too.”

“But my picture hasn’t been plastered all over the news.” She crossed her arms and stood her ground. She was right about this, but it was like talking to a dead man for all the response she got. In exasperation, she tossed her hands in the air. “Okay, so you go traipsing off to campus and someone spots you. What then?”

He opened his eyes.

“I’ll tell you what happens. You’ll be arrested and charged with murder.” He was at least listening to her now, so she pushed her advantage while she could. “And I’ll be left alone to deal with these children.”

“And what if someone recognizes you?”

“It’s a long shot, but so what if they do? I’ll tell them what happened and that will be the end of it.” After a moment’s pause she added, “You asked me to trust you, Ethan. Now I’m asking you to trust me. I can do this, and Mulligan is much more likely to talk to me than you.”

He pushed himself to a sitting position. “You’re forgetting about Ramirez.”

“You said you lost him.”

“I did.”

“Then he’s not a problem. But if you’re wrong, then I’m in more danger here than in Champaign.” She settled her hands on her hips. “In fact, the children and I are sitting ducks here.”

He studied her, considering, then nodded. “You’re right.”

Her legs about gave out beneath her. Not only was he listening, he’d actually heard her.

He didn’t seem to notice. “The only other question is whether someone else is watching Mulligan and waiting for Danny or Callie to show.”

She slipped into the room’s only chair, because she wasn’t at all sure her legs would continue to support her. “Someone from the Agency?”

“Or whoever runs the Haven.”

“You think they know Danny hacked into their computer system and will head here?”

“I’m not ruling anything out.” He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “But if they do, you have a better chance of getting in and out without anyone noticing you.”

He reached under the bed and pulled out his duffel, and she had to wonder if he’d planned for her to go to Champaign all along. “Let’s see if Anna has anything in here to help you become someone else.” He removed a leather bag and dumped its contents on the bed.

A few minutes later, Sydney
felt
like someone else. The changes were minor but effective, turning back the years and making her into a student. The jeans worked, according to Ethan, but she’d replaced her Ellen Tracy top with one of Ethan’s T-shirts, and her leather jacket with his denim one. In Anna’s bag, he’d found a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. From her own overnight case, Sydney applied a bit more makeup than usual, making her eyes appear owlish behind the frames.

Ethan backed up and surveyed their handiwork. “It won’t fool anyone who looks too closely, but hopefully that won’t happen.”

Her doubts must have shown on her face.

“The change doesn’t have to be drastic,” he said. “People see what they expect. Nothing more and nothing less. Now do you know what to do if you get into trouble?”

She dug out her cell phone, which he’d programmed with Anna’s number. “Press the speed dial, let it ring, then hang up.”

“And I’ll know to get the kids out of here.”

“How are you going to do that without a car?”

“Don’t worry about me, there are plenty of vehicles in this park.”

She didn’t want to think about that too closely and slipped the phone into Anna’s well-used bag, which she’d carry instead of her own Coach purse.

“And you won’t use the cell phone for any other reason,” he insisted for about the tenth time.

“Ethan, I know what to do.”

“Okay, I just . . .”

“I know.” His protective instincts were in overdrive. “But I’ll be fine.”