Desolation Point (32 page)

Sarah’s mouth was dry; she swallowed more water. “Could you please pass on my condolences to his family?”

“Of course.”

“Just one left out there now,” Alex said quietly. “Unless you found the niece already?”

“No, not yet.”

The information provided by Alex’s statement had made Merrick’s body easy to locate but, although no one expected to find Deakin’s niece alive, the whereabouts of her remains were still a mystery. Castillo thumbed to a separate marker in the file and pulled out two color photographs.

“We did find this, however.” He set the photographs in front of them.

The images were practically identical. Sarah moved one closer and saw Alex do likewise with the other. The camera had focused upon a dirt-covered metal box, carefully positioned on a white trestle table. In the background was a canvas awning, as if the photograph had been taken at a field camp. An unidentifiable figure wearing a full Hazmat suit stood close by.

“Jesus,” Alex whispered. “What the hell was in it?”

“Anthrax.” Castillo let his answer drop like a stone into the silence. Then he gave them another series of photographs: more Hazmat-suited figures, microscopes, and containment facilities. “Preliminary analysis identified the Ames strain.”

“That was the strain used in 2001, wasn’t it?” Alex sat up straighter, the cop in her obviously thriving on pulling the information together.

“Correct.” Castillo seemed to notice Sarah’s lack of comprehension and elaborated for her sake. “Shortly after the nine eleven attacks, Ames spores were mailed to several news media outlets and two Democratic senators. Five people were killed and seventeen infected.”

“Bloody hell.” Sarah could only imagine what a group like Deakin’s might have planned to do with their cache.

Alex gestured toward the image. “Is this contained?”

“Yes. Soil analysis from the area shows no evidence of contagion. The team will be there for a while yet, but if nothing else, Merrick knew how to store the spores safely. We’re still trying to trace back and identify his supplier. Explosives specialists on scene reported that the box was rigged to release the spores if anyone tried to force the locks, a fact I’m guessing Merrick made Deakin aware of.”

“Do you know what Deakin’s intentions were?” Sarah tucked her hands into the overlong sleeves on her sweatshirt, but even that wasn’t enough to ease the chill from her body.

“Raids on his central compound and all of his registered properties provided us with quite a few clues,” Castillo said. “We found blueprints and addresses for two mosques in NYC, the addresses of several community centers in areas largely populated by African Americans, and”―he shifted uncomfortably―“details of three support groups for gay teens.”

There was no anger left in Sarah, only sadness that people could hate as blindly as Deakin and his followers. She unclenched Alex’s fist and held on to her hand tightly.

“The intel we have indicates he had been plotting this for years.” Castillo took the images back and returned them to the file. “I think it’s safe to say that you both saved a lot of lives.” Despite the somber mood in the room, an unexpected smile brightened his face. “Which leads me quite neatly to this…” He turned the laptop around, displaying two FBI appeals. One offered a reward for information leading to the recapture of Nathan Merrick. The second appeal appeared to be older, the typeface slightly more antiquated, and the reward it offered was far more substantial. Its target was Nicholas Deakin.

“I think the informal term is ‘dead or alive,’” Castillo said dryly.

Alex seemed to decipher his cryptic comment before Sarah did. “No fucking way.”

“What?” Sarah looked at one and then the other for an explanation.

“The FBI would like to offer its sincere gratitude for the part you played in the apprehension of both parties,” Castillo said, as if he were reading from the official script. “The reward money is yours to share.”

Sarah drained the water in the glass in one swallow.

“Holy shit,” Alex whispered.

The reward money on the bulletins came to just over half a million dollars.

*

“Oh my.” Sarah opened the door of the hotel room wider, enabling Alex to join her on the threshold.

“Wow.”

When Castillo had described the hotel as “exclusive,” he hadn’t been exaggerating. The room he had booked for them was beautifully appointed, with elegant furnishings and massive floor-to-ceiling windows providing panoramic views of the city skyline and across to Elliott Bay. Afraid she was going to make a mess of the plush carpet, Sarah stopped at the door to kick her sneakers off before venturing any farther. Alex was already busy exploring and her delighted shriek prompted Sarah to follow.

“Bloody hellfire.” Standing with her chin propped on Alex’s shoulder, Sarah gaped at the en suite bathroom. “That’s big enough to do a few lengths in.”

Alex ran a hand along the side of the extremely generous bathtub. “Wasn’t thinking about swimming in it,” she murmured. Her hand was cool from the porcelain when she reached back to touch Sarah’s cheek.

The sound of a man uneasily clearing his throat made them both jump. “Sorry. Um, where would you like these?” The bellhop’s arms were laden with shopping bags, but the beetroot-red coloring to his face and the lack of eye contact implied that something other than his burden was the cause of his discomfiture.

“Here, let me.” Sarah moved to help him. After an awkward, fumbling handover that left some of the bags spilling their contents onto the floor, she ushered him from the room with a generous tip clutched in his fist. She shut the door behind him, leaned back against it, and started to laugh.

“I think we embarrassed that poor man,” she said.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Alex had delved into one of the bags and now spoke around a long piece of strawberry licorice. “Was it the stutter he suddenly developed or the way he tripped over his feet as he ran out the door?”

Sarah knelt and took a bite from the licorice dangling from Alex’s mouth. She wound the remainder around her finger, using it to pull Alex closer.

“I seem to remember that I owe you a fancy dinner.”

Confusion flitted across Alex’s face before she managed to place the reference. “Clean pair of socks,” she said quietly.

“Mmhm.” Sarah gave the candy a gentle tug. “Did you want me to make good on my debt?”

Alex shook her head. “Not right now.”

“Did you want me to fill up that bathtub?”

A vigorous nod this time, and Sarah heard the catch in Alex’s breathing.

“Hold that thought.” She kissed the tip of Alex’s nose and headed into the bathroom.

*

Alex emptied another shopping bag onto the floor, searching through the clothes they had bought earlier that day. There were only three bags left; she resigned herself to what she needed being in the last of them.

“Alex, it’ll go cold!” Sarah’s voice was slightly muffled by the bathroom door.

“I doubt that,” Alex called back. “Half the lights in Seattle dimmed when you drew that bath.”

There was a pause for a spell of splashing before Sarah’s indignant reply. “I didn’t draw it, I turned the taps on and ran it.”

“You turned the
faucet
on and
drew
it,” Alex corrected her, busy unfurling a pair of combat pants. She mouthed a silent “finally” as a small package dropped out and landed on the floor.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sarah sounded as if she had her head under the water. She surfaced as Alex pushed the door open. “You’re wearing far too many clothes,” she said.

Alex untied the sash around the complimentary bathrobe and let the robe fall to the floor. “How’s that?”

Sarah swallowed visibly. “Perfect,” she whispered.

The water was deep and hot, and Alex sank into it with a long sigh. Bubbles popped against her chin as the heat worked its way into her muscles, encouraging them to relax. She searched blindly for Sarah’s hand, then closed her eyes and carefully inched her head beneath the water. She only stayed under long enough to wet her hair, but still it felt like an achievement. Sarah kept a firm grip on her hand as she sat back up.

“You’re very brave,” Sarah said, beaming at her.

“It’s only a bath.”

“It’s a pretty big one, though. And you did sort of drown less than two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Alex shrugged, feeling both abashed and absurdly proud. She reached a hand out of the tub, her fingers patting the floor until they touched the edge of the bag she had left there. “Got you a present,” she said.

“You did? When?”

“When I lied and told you I had a craving for Tootsie Pops. I fucking hate those things.” She grinned and held out her gift. The bar of Cadbury Dairy Milk had not been easy to find, and she had resorted to enlisting an over-enthusiastic sales assistant in the candy store to help her track one down.

“You really ate a Tootsie Pop just for me?” Sarah eased herself across the bath to straddle Alex.

“Just for you.” Alex had actually eaten two and then felt queasy for an hour. The expression on Sarah’s face, however, made all the effort worthwhile.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re adorable?” Sarah said. Her skin was warm and soap-slick as she looped her arms around Alex’s neck.

“No,” Alex answered honestly. “I think you’re my first.” She whimpered as Sarah moved her hands lower, her fingers drawing a pattern in the bubbles covering Alex’s breasts.

“Bath or bed?” Sarah asked, her hands disappearing beneath the foam.

Alex let her head fall back against the towels piled on the side of the bath as Sarah’s fingers eased inside her.

“Or both,” Sarah said with a nonchalant shrug, and reached for the chocolate with her free hand.

*

They hadn’t bothered to get dressed. The clothing they had bought remained untouched in its packaging at the foot of the bed. Outside, rain poured down the windows, the top of the Space Needle hidden beneath a pall of thick cloud. Alex licked melted chocolate from her fingers, and then leafed through one of the many travel brochures Sarah had covered the bed with.

“I’m making a list,” Sarah said, chewing thoughtfully on a pen. Her hair, still damp from the bath, hung loose and tangled. There was a pencil tucked behind her ear, and with the pad of paper in her hand, she looked vaguely efficient, like a slightly absent-minded secretary who had turned up to work wearing nothing but a white robe and a sated expression.

“So, where are we going?”

Sarah handed the paper over. “It might need some work,” she admitted, with what Alex soon realized was considerable understatement.

“‘Somewhere warm. Cows with bells. England.’” Alex turned the page searching for more. When she looked up, Sarah was hiding her face behind her hands.

“You’ve been doing this all night.” Alex tried to sound serious.

“Not all night! You distracted me. You did that thing with the thing!” Sarah made a gesture that would’ve had a priest dragging her into confession for a month, prompting Alex to double over laughing.

“Come here,” Alex said, once she had the breath to speak. She unfastened the sash on Sarah’s robe and then picked up Sarah’s hairbrush. “Lie down.”

Sarah didn’t need to be told twice. She shrugged out of the robe completely and lay on her front with her head pillowed on her arms, then tried not to squirm impatiently as Alex began to comb the knots from her hair.

“Are you done yet?”

“No.”

“Could you do it quicker?”

“Nope.”

“Are you trying to drive me insane?”

Alex’s laughter rumbled through Sarah, her naked thighs rocking against Sarah’s back. “Possibly.”

Sarah ran a hand over the sheets, attempting to distract herself. “Think these are genuine Egyptian cotton?” She heard the quiet tap as Alex set the brush down.

“Hell if I know,” Alex said, her lips moving on the sensitive skin at the nape of Sarah’s neck. “Turn over.”

All consideration of thread count instantly forgotten, Sarah readily complied. She held her breath, studying Alex in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Fading bruises created a patchwork of color on Alex’s skin. Earlier, Sarah had kissed every one of the wounds, staking her own claim and occasionally leaving her own mark. She shuddered now as Alex began to do the same, her mouth and tongue easing across Sarah’s torso until she reached the older scars, the ones that were never going to fade away. Her fingers sketched the lines, her touch simultaneously bold and gentle.

“We’re a matched pair,” she said, following her fingers with the softest of kisses.

Sarah blinked back tears. “I know.” She felt Alex part her thighs, felt the heat of her mouth move lower still. “Oh God, I know,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.

The End

Cari Hunter
lives in the northwest of England with her partner, two cats, and a pond full of frogs. She works as a paramedic and dreams up stories in her spare time.

Cari enjoys long, wind-swept, muddy walks in her beloved Peak District and forces herself to go jogging regularly. In the summer she can usually be found sitting in the garden with her feet up, scribbling in her writing pad. She also loves hiking in the Swiss Alps and playing around online. Although she doesn’t like to boast, she will admit that she makes a very fine Bakewell Tart. She can be contacted at: [email protected].

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