The Face of Deception (15 page)

Since those circumstances involved probable trouble with the law, she could see the problem. “What about dental records?”

“That may be more difficult. Chadbourne's dentist was a woman named Dr. Dora Bentz.” He paused. “She was one of the people Fiske murdered after you came to Barrett House. You can bet every dental file Chadbourne ever had has been switched.”

“You said it was a witness who was murdered.” She held up her hand as he started to speak. “Never mind. Why should I expect truth from you?”

“I'm not going to defend myself. It was a different situation.”

She noticed he didn't apologize or claim he'd do anything else. “Then we're left with the DNA. What if we don't have enough for a test? Could we find a way to force Detwil to take a test to prove
his
identity?”

“No way,” Logan said flatly. “He's now the president. We bear the burden of proof. Besides, his medical records could be switched like mine.”

“Couldn't we try? He's got to have relatives.”

“Other than his mother, who died seven years ago, he had one older half brother.”

“Had?”

“John Cadro. He and his wife were killed the day after Dora Bentz.”

Jesus. “It doesn't have to be a close relative. They proved the Anastasia impostor wasn't genuine by comparing her DNA to Prince Philip of England's. Isn't there anyone else?”

“Not that we can readily trace. They chose Detwil very carefully.”

“What about the mother? They could exhume—”

“I don't mean to make a morbid pun, but we don't have time to dig deeper. Once we go public, we have to have full proof.”

“Why don't we have time?”

“Because we'll be dead within twelve hours after we show ourselves,” Gil said bluntly. “According to the news, John is already dead. That leaves only you and me, and they have the power of the presidency behind them. I'm sure the scenario is already in place. Quick, logical, and thorough. Timwick was always thorough.”

Eve shivered. “There has to be another lead . . . someone else.”

“Yes, there is. Scott Maren.”

“Another relative?” She grimaced. “And is he dead too?”

“No. He's Chadbourne's personal physician, and he's been out of the country, which probably saved his life.” He paused. “But I'm not sure we'll be able to use him. I believe he's probably involved in the actual murder.”

“How?”

“Opportunity. Two years ago, on the morning of November second, Ben Chadbourne checked into Bethesda for his annual checkup. The body appeared at Donnelli's funeral home after midnight on November third.”

“You think that's when the switch was made?”

Logan nodded. “It had to have been choreographed perfectly, with one Ben Chadbourne checking in and another checking out. Maren probably gave the real Chadbourne a lethal shot claiming it was vitamin B or something.”

“So he's their inside man at Bethesda,” Eve said slowly. It was possible and diabolically clever, she thought. A physician was in a position of trust and yet dealt with the means for taking life every day. “This has to be supposition. Maren would have had to go through all kinds of security checks before he became Chadbourne's physician.”

“I'm sure he did,” Gil said. “But he's highly respected and also a close friend of the President's. Maren, Chadbourne, and Lisa Chadbourne all went to college together. Either Chadbourne or his wife was probably instrumental in getting him his position at Bethesda.”

“Why would he do it? Why would he take that chance?”

Logan shrugged. “I don't know, but I'd bet he did. That's why I've been trying to contact him. We might be able to persuade him to implicate Timwick and Lisa Chadbourne.”

“I can't see that Maren is a lead. There's no way he'd admit he was involved if it's true. He'd be a fool.”

“Maybe.” Logan paused. “Unless we could convince him that he's a dead man if they're not taken out. When I made up my list of their possible targets for elimination, Maren ranked high on it.”

Eve thought about it. “He's the only witness who can link Lisa Chadbourne and Timwick to her husband's death.”

“Right. If there's no such witness and the death is discovered, they could set up a patsy, claim it was a terrorist plot or some other conspiracy. But Maren is real, and if he goes down for the murder, they couldn't be sure he wouldn't talk and bring them down with him. I haven't any doubt that from the moment the plan was conceived, they were already planning on killing him.”

“But will he believe that?”

“We can try. We don't have much choice. He's our only hope right now.”

“You said he was out of the country. Where is he?”

“Detwil sent him on a goodwill mission to Jordan to inspect the hospitals there. It was high-profile and he was supposedly requested by the king of Jordan. On the surface it's an honor that would increase Maren's prestige.”

“And below the surface?”

“Possibly a setup. Fiske would have found it easy to kill him there and shift the blame to a foreign dissident group. I think Bentz and Cadro were killed because they suspected I might be getting too close, but Maren was always a target.”

“He won't cooperate. For God's sake, if he killed the President, he's a dead man either way.”

“Not if we offer him a deal.”

“You don't have authority to offer him—” She studied his face. “What are you thinking?”

“That I want Detwil and Lisa Chadbourne out of the White House, and I don't care how I do it.” He paused. “Even if it means helping Maren set himself up somewhere with a fat bank account.”

“Make a deal with a murderer?”

“What if we can't get DNA proof? Can you suggest anything else?”

She was too confused to think clearly about anything at the moment. “What's to stop Fiske from still going to Jordan after Maren?”

“The situation has changed. They need Maren, and they won't kill him until his usefulness is ended.” He smiled. “Remember, they took my body to Bethesda. They're going to want Maren there to cover up. He was supposed to come back day after tomorrow, but now he'll be winging his way home at warp speed. While we go to Emory to see Kessler, Gil's going to Bethesda and try to gather Maren in.”

“How is Gil going to keep from being gathered in himself? They're bound to be on watch for us.”

“Through the magic of disguise,” Gil said. “I'm going to dress up as a female nurse.” He tilted his head. “A blonde, I think. With great boobs.”

“What?”

“Just joking. Don't worry, I'll handle it.”

She was already worried. She didn't want any harm to come to him. Gil might have been involved in the plot to deceive her, but he was a likable rascal.

And, dear Christ, there had been too many deaths already. People she had never met were dying. She seemed to be in the middle of a circle of everwidening ripples of destruction. Thank God, those ripples hadn't touched anyone close to her yet.

And they mustn't touch them.

“You're talking as if you can move around without any problems,” she pointed out. “What about money? What about ID? Credit cards can be traced and—”

“Logan took care of that. He had me buy a few handy-dandy phony driver's licenses on the black market. You're Bridget Reilly. I thought your red hair looked like you might be of Irish descent. The picture is very satisfactorily blurred and—”

“
My
picture?” She turned to Logan. “You got a phony driver's license for me?”

He shrugged. “I had to be prepared. I had Gil get IDs for everyone who was at Barrett House. I thought it might come down to this.”

Damn him. He had not only known the trouble he was involving her in, he had planned on it. “And I suppose you had Gil set up phony credit cards for all of us too?”

He nodded. “But I brought enough cash to see us through most situations.”

“You're absolutely incredible.”

“I had to be prepared,” he repeated.

She had to get out of the room, or she'd do something violent.

“Call Margaret.” She headed for the bedroom. “I'm going to phone my mother and tell her to be ready to go.”

“Her phone will be monitored, you know.”

“I'm not an idiot. I know they'll be watching my mother. I'll be careful, but I've got to warn her. I'll use my digital phone and call her on hers.”

“She has a digital too?”

“Of course. Joe got them for us. He says there are all kinds of creeps out there listening in on cellulars. Digitals are almost foolproof.”

“I should have known it was the ubiquitous Mr. Quinn,” Logan murmured. “Is there anything he doesn't think of?”

“No, he's a good friend and he keeps us safe.” She gave him a cool glance over her shoulder. “I can guess why you wouldn't understand that concept.”

THIRTEEN

Sandra had seen the morning news, and it took Eve ten minutes to get past her exclamations of relief and deflect her barrage of questions to tell her that Margaret was coming.

“What do you mean, I have to leave?” Sandra said. “What's going on, Eve?”

“Nothing good. I can't talk about it.”

“Is John Logan really dead?”

“No. Look, Mom, it's going to be nasty, and until I get it cleaned up, I want you somewhere safe and out of public view.”

“Safe? I'm safe here. Joe stops by every other day, and that black and white is parked out in front every night.”

“Mom . . .” She had to find a way of convincing her. “Do what I ask. Please. It's bad. Trust me. I'm scared of what may happen.”

“Scared?” Sandra was silent.“I believe you are scared. I haven't seen you act like this since Fraser—” She broke off and then said, “I want to see you.”

“I can't come there. It would only endanger you.”

“What are you mixed up in, Eve?”

“I can't tell you that either. Will you do this for me?”

“I have a job. I just can't run off—”

“They'll kill you,” she said baldly. “Or they'll use you to kill me. Is that what you want? For God's sake, tell the office you have a family emergency. Believe me, it's true.”

“Kill you,” Sandra repeated, and for the first time Eve heard fear in her voice. “I'm going to call Joe.”

“I'm going to call him myself. But he may not be able to help you. Don't leave the house and don't open the door to anyone but the person I send after you.”

“And who is that?”

Christ, what if they found a way to monitor the conversation? She couldn't have Margaret a target. “They'll have ID. I'll fax a picture—” No, her fax machine had been destroyed along with almost everything else in the lab, and besides, a fax might not be safe. “I'll get a photo and information to you somehow.” She paused. “And, Mom, don't go anywhere with anyone else, no matter what kind of ID they show you. Not the police, not the FBI or Secret Service. No one.”

“When will this person be here?”

“I don't know. Soon. I don't even know how they'll contact you. They may not want to come to the house. Just do what they say. Okay?”

“I'm an adult, Eve. I don't go blindly where I'm led. God knows, I did enough of that when I was growing up.” She sighed. “Okay, okay, I'll go along with this. But I wish to hell you'd never heard of John Logan.”

“Me too, Mom. Me too.”

“And you take care of yourself.”

“I will.” She paused and then said impulsively, “I love you.”

“My God, now I am scared. You don't get sappy very often.” She said awkwardly, “I love you too, Eve.” She quickly hung up the phone.

Eve pressed the end button on her phone. Expressing affection was still never easy for either of them. There had been too many years of noncommunication during Eve's childhood.

But Sandra knew she loved her. She didn't have to say it.

She braced herself. Now Joe.

She quickly dialed Joe's private digital phone number.

He picked up immediately.

“Joe?”

A silence, and then his voice came low, hard. “What the
hell
are you up to?”

“Can you talk? Is there anyone around?”

“I'm walking out to the parking lot. Why didn't you call me? Why the hell didn't you return—”

“I was busy. Stop yelling at me.”

“I'm not yelling.” It was true, but every word was laden with anger. “I could strangle you.”

“You may have to stand in line.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

“No. I'm in trouble, Joe.”

“That's pretty clear. Did you kill Logan?”

Her hand tightened on the receiver. “What?”

“Did you kill him?”

“Are you nuts?”

“Answer me. Look, if you did it, I know it was self-defense, but I have to know so I can fix it.”

“Why would you think— Of course I didn't kill him. He's not dead. It's all a lie.”

Silence. “Then I'd say you're in very deep shit. Have you seen CNN?”

“About Barrett House burning? Yes, I know about that.”

“No, the latest bulletin. The one that mentions you as a suspect.”

“Me?”

“Novak, that hotshot lawyer of Logan's, was interviewed, and he said you were staying with Logan at Barrett House.” He paused. “He said you were Logan's lover and he had been concerned about the relationship because you were unbalanced.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“They know about Lakewood, Eve.”

She stiffened. “How could they know? How could anyone know? You buried the records. You promised me that I—”

“I don't know how they found out. I thought I had it covered.”

“You should have been more—” Christ, she was blaming Joe for something that wasn't even his responsibility. “They mentioned Lakewood?”

“Yes.” He paused. “I told you that there was no reason to hide it. There's nothing wrong about—”

“It seems there is reason.”

Joe cursed softly. “Tell me where you are. I'll come to you.”

She tried to gather her wits. “I shouldn't see you. As long as you're not involved you'll be—”

“Tell me. I am involved. Tell me or I'll hunt you down. I'm damn good at hunting.”

She knew better than anyone else how determined Joe could be. “I'm coming to Atlanta. I need to see Kessler. I'll meet you at the Hardee's parking lot out in Dekalb at ten tomorrow morning. That's about six blocks from Emory.”

“Right.” He didn't speak for several seconds. “How bad is it, Eve?”

“Big-time. It couldn't be any worse.”

“Sure it could. You couldn't have me to help fix it.”

She smiled shakily. “That's true. That would make it worse.” She thought of something. “Will you dig up a picture of Logan's assistant, Margaret Wilson, and run it over to my mother? Tell her that Margaret is the one who's going to help her.”

“Help her do what?”

“She's going to see that Mom gets to somewhere safe.”

“
I'm
taking care of her.” There was an edge to his tone. “You don't need any other help.”

“Don't do this to me, Joe. I need all the help I can get. Will you get the picture to her?”

“Of course I'll do it. But you'd better have a damn good reason for not trusting me.”

“I do trust—” Maybe he'd understand when she explained everything to him. She thought of something else. “And will you find a picture of James Timwick and a man called Albert Fiske, who works for him? Bring it with you tomorrow.”

“Timwick should be no problem. He's on the news fairly frequently, but who's Albert Fiske?”

“A name I need to put a face to. Good-bye, Joe.” She pressed the end button.

Lakewood. My God, Lakewood.

She put her phone back in her purse and stood up. She could hear the television in the next room. Logan and Gil would be hearing about Lakewood.

But Logan must already know. The lawyer was his snoop and it was Logan's money that had dug up all the facts about her past.

Logan again. Damn him.

Gil and Logan both looked up when she walked into the room.

“The plot thickens,” Logan said as he switched off the TV.

“Yes, I'm crazy and you're dead,” she said jerkily. “They want to make it hard for us to make any move at all.”

“Not hard. Impossible,” Gil corrected her. “Were you really at Lakewood?”

“Ask Logan.”

Logan shook his head. “I didn't get that morsel of information. I guess Novak was saving that to sell to Timwick.”

“You knew he was dealing with them?”

“I suspected the possibility. Novak's ambitious.” He paused. “But the question is how valuable is that piece of information to them. How long were you at Lakewood?”

“Three weeks.”

“Who committed you?”

“Joe.”

“Christ. The authorities. Not a good image.”

“It wasn't the authorities,” she said fiercely. “It was Joe.”

“Quinn was with the FBI at the time.”

“They didn't know about it. Nobody knew about it. Not even my mother.”

“She's next of kin. She would have had to know.”

Eve shook her head. “Lakewood isn't a public institution. It's a small private hospital in South Georgia. Joe admitted me under another name. Anna Quinn. He told them I was his wife.”

“And you went in voluntarily?”

She smiled crookedly. “No, Joe can be a powerhouse when he chooses. He bulldozed me into it.”

“Why?”

She didn't answer.

“Why, Eve?”

What the hell. He'd find out anyway. “The night Fraser was executed, I took an overdose of sedatives. I was staying at a motel near the prison and Joe came to check and found me.” She shrugged. “He made me throw up several times and walked me around that damn room until I was out of danger. Then he took me to Lakewood. He stayed there with me for three weeks. At first they wanted to sedate me, but he told them that wasn't why he brought me there. He made me talk to every shrink in the place. He made me talk about Bonnie. He made me talk about Fraser. He made me talk about my mother. Hell, he even made me talk about my father, and I hadn't seen him since I was a baby.” She grimaced. “But he didn't think I was opening up enough with the good doctors, so after three weeks he checked me out and took me to Cumberland Island and kept me there for another week.”

“Cumberland Island?”

“It's a wild island off the coast. One hotel, but Joe didn't check us in there. We camped out and Joe administered his own brand of therapy.”

“And did you open up with him?”

“Joe didn't give me any choice.” Her lips twisted ruefully. “I told you, he can be a powerhouse. He wasn't about to let me go crazy or kill myself. He wouldn't have it. So I had to cope.”

“Quinn must be pretty impressive,” Gil said.

“Oh, yes. No doubt about it. There's nobody like him.” She walked over to the window and looked out at the surf. “I fought him like a tiger. He wouldn't let me go.”

“I wish he'd buried the Lakewood records deeper.”

“So do I. In the neighborhood where I grew up there were a lot of crazies, but you were really bonkers if you had to go to an asylum. But Joe doesn't think like we do. He's very direct. If something's broken, you get an expert to fix it. He didn't see any stigma about staying at a mental hospital. That didn't scare him.”

“Did it scare you?” Logan asked.

She was silent a moment. “Yes.”

“Why?”

She said haltingly, “I was afraid I belonged there.”

“Ridiculous. You had enough stress to give anyone a nervous breakdown.”

“And how close is a nervous breakdown to going over the edge? You never realize what a tightrope we all walk until you almost slip into the chasm.”

“But you fought back.”

“Joe jerked me back.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And then I got mad as hell and disgusted with myself. I wasn't about to let Fraser take anything else from me. Not my life and not my sanity. I wasn't going to let him win.” She turned to face Logan. “And I'm not going to let Timwick and her win either. The question is how are we going to keep them from making everyone think I'm nuts.”

“We can't. Not now. We're on the defensive,” Logan said. “We can't do anything until we have a weapon to launch an offensive.”

She had known that, but she'd hoped for good news, not reality. “Did you call Margaret?”

He nodded. “She's on her way.”

“Where will she take my mother?”

“She's consulting with the security service who's guarding your mother now. Wherever they decide to stash her, I told Margaret I wanted them to take at least one guard. Did you tell Sandra to expect her?”

“Yes, and I told Joe to meet us tomorrow in Atlanta.” She saw an expression flit across Logan's face and demanded, “What?”

“Nothing. It just might not have been wise to involve him. The fewer people who—”

“Crap.” She ignored the fact that that had been her own initial thought. “I trust him more than I trust you or Gil.”

“I can see why.” Gil rose to his feet. “I'm eager to meet the interesting Mr. Quinn. I think I'll go for a walk. Care to join me, John?”

Logan nodded. “I can use some air.” He moved toward the door. “We'll be back soon. Keep an eye on the news, will you, Eve?”

They wanted to talk over the situation alone. They'd weigh the recent developments and try to plan an offensive. Well, let them. They'd learn soon enough that she wouldn't be shut out of decisions any longer.

On the other hand, she just might want to shut them out. Tomorrow she'd be with Joe again. Logan had used her and she had no confidence he wouldn't do it again, but she could trust Joe. They'd been a team for a long time, and together they could work their way through anything, including Timwick and Lisa Chadbourne.

Lisa Chadbourne. Did the fact that her name had come so easily to Eve mean she'd accepted Lisa Chadbourne as the prime conspirator? The signals she had used with Detwil indicated complicity but didn't necessarily mark her as the kingpin.

But the woman she'd studied in the videotapes was not the type to accept second place. She exuded confidence and charisma.

And Gil's description of Timwick had not been of a man who would be able to pull off a deception of this magnitude. It would take nerves of steel and the ability to think on your feet. According to Gil, Timwick was a man who might crumble under pressure.

If Lisa Chadbourne was the prime player, then Eve had better study her very carefully.

She went to her handbag and pulled out the tapes she had stuffed in it before leaving Barrett House. She popped one in the VCR and settled on the sofa in front of the television.

Lisa Chadbourne's smiling face appeared on the screen. Beautiful, intelligent, and, yes, fascinating. Eve felt tension ripple through her, and she leaned forward, her gaze never leaving Lisa Chadbourne.

“What are you doing?” Logan asked when he walked in on her two hours later. “Lisa Chadbourne?”

Eve flipped off the VCR. “Nothing. I was just studying her.”

“Her signals to Detwil?”

“Some. Mainly body language. Expressions. They tell a hell of a lot.”

“Do they?” Logan's gaze narrowed on her face. “I wouldn't think they'd tell you anything. I'm sure she's very good at disguising her emotions.”