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Authors: Iris Johansen

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense

Killer Dreams (19 page)

BOOK: Killer Dreams
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She opened her eyes to see Royd standing at the foot of the bed. His hair was wet and he smelled clean. “Ready for what?”

He smiled. “Sex? Shower? Breakfast? A morning swim? I listed your options in order of importance to me.”

She felt a warm, comforting tide move through her. Weird that those few words had banished the feeling of abandonment she’d been experiencing. “Your hair is wet. Shower or swim?”

“Shower. I thought I’d wait for you.” He stood looking at her. “Either get out of bed or I’ll come back in. Since it’s almost noon I think we should wait until I feed you.” He turned and headed for the door. “Hit the shower. I rifled through your stuff and put a change of clothes in the bathroom. I’ll make coffee and an omelet. Twenty minutes?”

“I need thirty minutes.” She sat up and threw back the sheet. “I have to wash my hair. I feel as if I’ve gone through a tornado.”

“You did.” He smiled at her over his shoulder. “We did.”

He was gone before she could answer. She stood up and moved toward the bathroom door. Her body felt light, sleek, her muscles so relaxed and springy they were almost catlike. After a night of sex that intense she would have thought she’d be tired and drained. Instead, she felt glowing. She couldn’t remember ever feeling like this with Dave. Sex had been satisfying, it had never been all-consuming.

Don’t think about Dave. Don’t make comparisons. What they had experienced last night had been unique. Sometimes it happened that two people were perfectly attuned to each other sexually. That didn’t mean that they were attuned in any other way. Heaven knows she and Royd were miles apart on any other viewpoint.

She turned on the shower and stepped beneath it. The warmth of the water was another lazy, sensuous experience. Good. She didn’t want to think right now. She wanted to be mindless and bask in the moment. She tilted back her head and let the water flow over her.

“You’re five minutes late.” Royd turned away from the stove when she walked into the kitchen. “But so am I. I had a telephone call.”

She stiffened. “MacDuff?”

He shook his head. “Kelly. He wanted instructions.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Find another boat with state-of-the-art equipment and wait for us.” He scooped the omelets onto two plates. “Pour the coffee while I get the orange juice out of the fridge.”

“Okay.” She was still frowning as she picked up the carafe. “Why would we need a state-of-the-art launch?”

“Maybe we won’t. I like to be prepared.” He put the plates on the table. “Stop worrying.” He took the carafe from her and poured the coffee into two cups. “I don’t like it.”

She raised her brows. “Therefore I’m to cease and desist?”

“Until there’s something to worry about. I knew I’d jar you when I told you about Kelly but I thought you’d resent it if I didn’t keep you up to speed.”

“Yes, I would.”

“Sit down.” He pushed her onto a chair. “And smile at me the way you were doing when you came into the kitchen.”

“What way was that?”

He tilted his head as he gazed down at her. “Eager. Definitely eager. Do you know how that makes me feel?” His fingers touched her hair. “Silky. You’re silky all over. Every place I touched.”

She couldn’t breathe. She could feel the heat scorching her cheeks.

He reached down and slowly rubbed her breast. “Beautiful and soft and silky,” he said softly. “Want to try it on the kitchen floor?”

Yes, she did. She was trembling with the need to pull him down and—

“Come on,” he said as his hand slipped inside her shirt. Skin-to-skin. The muscles of her stomach clenched. “We can eat later. It doesn’t matter.”

“No, it doesn’t—” She drew a deep breath and reached up and took his hand from beneath her shirt. Jesus, it was hard to stop. “It doesn’t matter when we eat. It does matter that you’re using sex to distract me. I should be worrying about every single thing that’s happening, and you’re treating me like a doll you take out and play with and then put back in the box.”

“Wrong tactics?” He shrugged and sat down in the chair opposite her. “Sorry, I’m feeling very protective of you. It’s been sneaking up on me for some time and last night clinched it. It probably has something to do with the caveman instinct to preserve the family. I’m sure you know more about that than I do. You have all those degrees.”

“You keep throwing my schooling in my face. Does it bother you?”

“No, not if it doesn’t bother you.” He lifted his cup to his lips. “I’ve learned I can learn anything I have to learn.”

As he’d learned her body and every nuance of sensation he could bring to it last night, she thought. She veered away from that thought. Her body was still tingling, readying from his touch and she didn’t need to remember how good he could make that joining for her. “You seem to be very talented in that direction.”

He chuckled and her gaze flew to his face. He knew exactly what she had been thinking. She wouldn’t look away. She picked up her fork and took a bite of omelet.

“I’m glad you think so.” His lips twitched. “I can usually do what has to be done. If the incentive is tempting enough.” His expression sobered. “We could talk around the subject for the next week, but I’ll be damned if we’ll do it. I’m walking on shaky ground and I have to firm it up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Right now, I’m in pretty good shape. You had a good time last night and it’s lingering nicely. You’re feeling and not thinking. But I can’t count on that as time passes. You’ll get scared and you’ll think about your son and your life and how different we are.”

“We are different.”

“Not in bed,” he said roughly. “And the rest can be negotiated. I told you last night that I feel something for you. It’s still there and stronger. Much stronger. I’m not sure where it’s going but I can’t let it go. I can’t let you go, Sophie.”

“I don’t want to talk about this now.”

“I do. I don’t know how much time we have before everything blows up in our faces. I never expected this to happen but it did and we have to cope.” His hand tightened on his cup. “I’ve been honest with you. Now level with me.”

“What do you want me to say?” She moistened her lips. “Last night was better than good, it was fantastic. I’ve been something of a workaholic all my life and sex was never that important to me. It was just pleasant.” Her lips twisted. “Sex is not pleasant with you, Royd. It blew my mind. You saw how I responded. I want to keep on going to bed with you. You thought that I might be going to bed with you because I was sorry for you. But it’s myself I’m sorry for. Life hasn’t been wonderful for me for the past years and I’m going to reach out and grab as much pleasure as I can. I think I deserve it. Is that what you want to know?”

“Partly. It’s a start. No one-night stand?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know how—Everything may change in a heartbeat. How can I be sure how I’ll feel? There’s Sanborne and I can’t—”

“Okay. Okay. I’m better off than I thought I’d be. You’re not having second thoughts about sex with me. You’re just not sure about the future.” He finished his coffee. “I can take care of that.”

“You may not want to do it,” she said quietly. “I’m no femme fatale. Whatever you’re feeling may fade in a day or two.”

“Maybe. Not likely. I’m pretty obsessive. Finish your breakfast and we’ll go for a swim.”

She leaned back in her chair and looked at him. Dear heavens, Royd was volatile. One moment he was intense and totally focused and the next he’d changed to an entirely new path.

“I’m just giving you breathing room.” His gaze was on her face. “I pushed you hard. You need it.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.” She stood up. “And me. A swim sounds good.” She reached up and started to unbutton her shirt. “But not good enough. And it’s not what I want right now. Take your clothes off, Royd.”

“Sophie?”

“You promised me a romp on the kitchen floor.” She finished unbuttoning her shirt. “Keep your promise, Royd.”

“I will.” He was behind her, his hands on her breasts. He whispered in her ear. “Always.”

It was Sophie’s phone that rang two hours later. She reached over Royd to pick it up on the nightstand.

“I’ve found out about Gorshank. Venable with the CIA came through,” MacDuff said when she picked up the phone. “Anton Gorshank. Russian scientist who worked on some pretty nasty projects before the breakup of the Soviet Union.”

“A chemist?”

“Right, and he was last heard from in Denmark. The CIA said he disappeared from their scope two years ago.”

“They don’t know where he is now?”

“They’re working on it. They say they have a few leads. I asked Joe Quinn to put a little more pressure on them. He has a few friends in the Agency too. I expect word from them soon. I’ll get back to you.”

“Thank you. How’s Michael?”

“Fine.”

“May I talk to him?”

“You’ll have to call Jane. Jock and I left the Run two hours ago.”

“I…see.”

“I told you that we’d be on the road as soon as we found out anything, Sophie,” he said quietly.

“I know.” But it still made her a little uneasy to realize that MacDuff and Jock were no longer with Michael. She had come to rely on them. “Where are you going?”

“We’ll be heading your way. Good-bye, Sophie.”

“Good-bye.” She hung up the phone.

“Gorshank?” Royd asked.

She nodded. “We know who he is. Russian scientist who disappeared from Denmark two years ago. They don’t know where he is. MacDuff is expecting word at any time.”

“Good.”

“And he and Jock are on the move. He evidently believes that there’s going to be a breakthrough soon.”

He raised himself on one elbow to look at her. “And you’re uneasy about Michael.”

“Of course I am. I’m always worried about him. It’s been that way since the day my parents died.” She rolled over in bed and sat up. “I’ll call him and talk to Jane. That will make me feel better.”

“Will it?”

“I’ve got to trust someone. I feel pretty alone right now.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” He got out of bed. “You’ve just got a dose of cold water in the face and you don’t see me in the role of helpmate and guardian. I thought I was doing pretty well in that department, but evidently not.” He shrugged. “That’s okay. I’ll take what I can get. You told me you had problems with trust. How about that swim after you call Michael?”

“I guess so.” She moved toward the bathroom. “If we don’t hear from MacDuff by then.”

“Naturally, that would come first. You’ve made me a little dizzy but not enough to forget the job I have to do.”

“I’d be an idiot if I believed you to be the type of man who would be distracted to that extent. I’ve always known—”

“Sophie.”

She looked back at him.

His lips were tight and his voice rough. “You’re already distancing yourself from me. That’s not going to happen. I’ll take second place, but I’m not going to fade out of the picture.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re probably telling the truth. You’re so used to not thinking about anyone but Michael that you’re trying to stuff the memory of what we’ve got in a little compartment and intend to ignore it. It’s not going to be that easy. I’m going to make sure of that.” His lips twisted. “The honeymoon is
not
over.”

“Honeymoon? That implies a commitment that doesn’t exist between us.”

“Whatever you want to call it.” He moved toward the door. “That’s all I wanted to say. I just thought it fair to warn you.”

“Good God, that sounds like a threat.”

“What do you expect from someone like me?” He shook his head. “It’s not a threat. I won’t stalk you. If you walk away from me when this is over, good luck to you. I’ll just do my damnedest to make it impossible for you to do it. And my damnedest is pretty good. Until then I’ll be so civilized and agreeable it will make you happy as a clam and me want to throw up. I’ll see you downstairs.”

The door closed behind him.

Civilized and agreeable? The bastard didn’t have any concept of the meaning of those words. He was rough and hard and being around him was like clinging to debris in the middle of a tornado.

Yet she hadn’t wanted it any other way during the last twenty-four hours. If he was rough, there had been no pain, and he was an incredibly exciting lover. His unpredictability and hint of latent violence should have been intimidating, but she had found it addictive. At no time had she felt threatened by him. He was not smooth and easy but she had known he wouldn’t hurt her. And even though she had accused him of threatening her a few minutes ago, it had been more of a defensive move.

Defensive. Why would she feel defensive when she had just admitted that she was not afraid of Royd?

Control.

The answer came zeroing in on her. All her adult life she’d had to be in control, in her marriage, her career, with Michael. When she was in bed with Royd, that control had vanished. She’d deliberately let go of the need for control because the pleasure was so intense. Cripes, she sounded like some dominatrix. She’d kept the reins with Dave because that’s the way he liked it. As a doctor, she had to be disciplined and authoritative; with Michael, she was a mother and it went with the territory.

It would never go with the territory with Royd. He might compromise but that would be all. He said he respected her, but she’d have to earn that respect every minute of every day.

She closed the bathroom door and leaned against it. Stop thinking about Royd. She had probably made a mistake in becoming intimate with him but it was done. She’d had a hell of a good time but that didn’t mean she had to continue with it. She needn’t cut it off abruptly but it was best if she concentrated on—

Jesus. The memory of Royd in that last minute before he had walked out of the bedroom came back to her. Naked, muscular, bold, and very erotic.

Yeah, stop thinking about him.

Not likely.

16

H
er phone started ringing as she came down the stairs thirty minutes later.

MacDuff?

Royd came out into the hall and stood looking up at her.

Her hand was trembling as she punched the button.

“How are you, Sophie?” Sanborne asked. “Well, I trust.”

She stopped in shock on the stairs. “What do you want, Sanborne?”

Royd stiffened, his gaze on her face.

“What I’ve always wanted,” Sanborne said. “A partnership with someone I respect and trust. You must realize how futile this vendetta of yours is turning out. You can’t win, and people you love may be hurt.”

“Like Dave?”

“I don’t know what you mean. The police are convinced that you’re the one who killed Edmunds.” He paused. “I was thinking of your son.”

“You bastard.”

“I hear that there was a horrible incident in Scotland. I’m so glad your son is still safe.”

“And he’ll stay safe,” she said through her teeth. “You can’t touch him, Sanborne.”

“Because you’ve teamed up with Royd? That was a mistake. He’s not stable. He’ll drag you down with him.”

“I’m not stable either. Not where you’re concerned.”

“Then it’s time you got over it. I’m offering you a deal that you can’t refuse.”

“The hell I can’t.”

“You’re in much worse trouble than you were when I last called. The police are after you. The DNA that linked you to the Edmunds crime scene has tested positive. You have no career and your son is in danger. Believe me, that last is certainly true. Come and join me, Sophie. You’ll have money, power, and the boy will be safe.”

“And I’d turn into a monster like you.”

“Power, Sophie. It’s the great equalizer between monsters and saints.”

“You’re sick.”

He didn’t answer. “You see how I’m keeping my temper? It should prove how much I want your cooperation.”

“It proves that you’re not as certain about REM-4 as you want to be.”

“How clever you are. But you have an example of REM-4 with you now. Royd was one of my prime specimens. And it was all due to you.”

“Shut up.”

“Very well. I don’t want to offend you when we have to work closely together. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up.

“Do I have to ask what he wanted?” Royd asked quietly.

“Me.” She was shaking. “I didn’t expect him to—It surprised me.”

He was suddenly beside her, holding her. “Easy. He wants you weak and scared. Don’t give it to him.”

She clung to him. “He’s such a bastard. He kept threatening Michael.”

“It’s his ace in the hole.”

“And he talked about you. He said you were a prime specimen and that I did it.” She moistened her lips. “He’s right. I did do it.”

“And I am a prime specimen.”

She stiffened in shock.

“At least you thought so last night. And you did do me. Any number of times.”

“You know I meant—” She pushed back and looked at his face. “It’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is.” He smiled. “It’s funny to think he can hurt me or you with that garbage. We’re way beyond him now.” He turned her around and gave her a gentle swat. “Get upstairs and pack. We need to be out of here in the next five minutes.”

“You think the call was traced?”

“It’s possible. I’m using a satellite phone and the NSA can pick up signals on practically any phone service in the country. Boch has contacts with military-satellite departments that could zero in on us. I don’t want to wait and see if the cops or some of Sanborne’s men come down on us.”

She hurried up the steps. “I don’t think it will be the police. He was—I believe I caught a—He wants me, Royd. Not my head in a basket.”

“Then we should ask ourselves why he’s suddenly so urgent.” He turned and headed for the front door. “But from a good distance from this place.”

Sanborne turned to Boch. “Did you get the location?”

He looked up from his phone. “They’re working on it. Somewhere in South Florida.”

Sanborne cursed. “Where? Royd will have her out of there in minutes.”

“Maybe they’ll leave some clue to where they’re—”

“I can’t be chasing her all over the States. I need to get my hands on her now.”

“Why don’t we send Devlin to Florida? If he has a starting point, he should be able to track them. You’ve made sure he’s an expert.”

“No, I don’t want to waste—” He stopped, thinking about it. Dammit, he’d wanted to lure the woman into his camp. It had been a slim chance but it was always better to have willing workers rather than forced. He had learned that through the experiments at Garwood. The possibility had existed that she might have felt trapped by having the police after her. Evidently she wasn’t frightened enough. “Yes, we’ll call Devlin. I need to talk to him.”

 

“Talk to me,” Royd said as soon as he got on the freeway. “What do you think Sanborne is up to? You said he didn’t want your head in a basket.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will eventually. Just not now.” She frowned, trying to remember the words and nuances of that conversation. “He was actually trying to convince me to join his goon squad. Lord, can you imagine the ego of the man? I was supposed to just ignore everything he’s done?”

“It’s not ego. I’ve been studying him since before I broke away from Garwood. Sanborne has something missing in his psyche.”

“Conscience?”

“Not even that. He doesn’t have emotion as most people perceive it. He pretends but he doesn’t get it. He’s clever, he has an appreciation of beauty, and he enjoys the sense of power, but he doesn’t really understand the pain and hatred he causes because he doesn’t feel it himself. Since he does understand a thirst for power, he probably doesn’t really see why you wouldn’t put aside whatever he’s done to hurt you if he offered you enough.” He shrugged. “You’re the doctor. You probably know the technical words for it.”

“You did very well.” It made sense. She had been so full of hatred and guilt that she had never tried to analyze Sanborne. She had just wanted to rid the world of him and REM-4. Yet when she thought about all her encounters with Sanborne she could see the signs. “And that’s why he has no compunction about using REM-4 like this.”

“My guess. Of course, he could just be a complete son of a bitch. It doesn’t matter to me. I tried to learn what he was so I could have a better shot at destroying him. I don’t care if he’s a sicko. I’m not going to cure him. I’m going to take him down.” He paused. “But why is he pushing you now? You told me he’d tried to persuade you before but after you turned him down, he set his dogs on you. Now all of a sudden he’s backtracking. He could have been just trying to stall you while he tried to locate us. You’re certain you read him right?”

“How can I be certain?” But she was almost sure, she realized. And there had to be a reason. “Gorshank.”

“What?”

“I told you that the equations were brilliant but I couldn’t understand how he reached some of his results.”

“You said you needed time to study them.”

“But what if his work was faulty? What if it had a few giant holes in it?”

“Then they’d need to plug those holes and fast. By pulling in a scientist who knew the primary formula.”

She nodded. “And they need that more than they need to get rid of me permanently. It’s only a supposition but it makes—”

Her phone rang. “Shall I answer it?”

“If you get off quick.”

She pressed the button.

“Gorshank is in Charlotte, North Carolina,” MacDuff said. “Three twenty-one Ivy Street.”

She put the phone on speaker so that Royd could hear. “How did they find him?”

“He transferred a large amount of money to a Russian bank to pay off a debt to the Mafia. Jock and I will make a connection at Kennedy and head directly to Charlotte.”

“When will you get there?”

“Another seven hours.”

Royd was shaking his head. “If Gorshank’s on the hot seat that could be too long. There’s not much difference, but maybe we can beat that. We’ll call you when we’ve made contact.” He hung up the phone before MacDuff could argue. “We’ll head for Daytona. We’ll catch a flight out of there for Charlotte.”

“Hot seat?”

“If Sanborne believes Gorshank isn’t performing to his satisfaction, then he’ll have no more use for him.”

“And he’ll be a liability and a threat.” Sophie took it a step farther. “Like all the other scientists connected to the project that he fired and then presumably sent hit men to finish off.” Her gaze flew to Royd’s face. “It may be too late.”

Royd nodded. “We’ve got to hope that Sanborne is keeping Gorshank alive until he finds a way to get hold of you. He must have had some confidence in him or he wouldn’t have put him on the payroll.”

She shook her head skeptically. “I don’t know. Sanborne is totally ruthless. Everything is black or white to him. If he thinks Gorshank has been stringing him along, he’s not going to let him have a second chance.”

“Then we may be going on a wild-goose chase.” Royd’s foot pressed the accelerator. “But I’m not going to miss a chance at gathering in Gorshank. He has to know where the island is located and maybe about some of the defenses surrounding it.” His lips tightened. “If he’s alive, he’ll talk.”

 

Three twenty-one Ivy Street was set back from the road and surrounded by poplar trees that shaded the porch of the small gray clapboard building. The house was dark but there was a flickering light in the room left of the door that must have originated from a TV set. Gorshank had become an avid television fan since he’d arrived in the States. When he wasn’t at his desk in the office, he was parked in front of the set, watching
The Simpsons
or
CSI
or any number of other programs.

Devlin had studied the surveillance reports on Gorshank that Sanborne had given him but it wasn’t really necessary. The scientist was a man of ingrained habit and a multitude of self-indulgences that made him pitifully vulnerable. Too vulnerable. Devlin had been impatient when Sanborne had sent him here when he could have gone after Royd. Now that would have been a challenge.

But he had to keep a low profile after the feast at MacDuff’s Run. No arguments or even attempts at manipulation for a little while. Besides, killing a fool like Gorshank would be a pleasure. Fools annoyed him.

He would check out the doors and find a way to enter the house. Gorshank would be sitting in his chair with his can of beer and Devlin would be on him before he realized what was happening. He’d decide once he had him helpless if he wanted to dispatch him quickly or take his time.

It was going to be a piece of cake.

 

“Stay here.” Royd pulled the car to the curb. “Let me check the place out.”

Sophie gazed at the flickering light coming through the front window of the house. It was a sight that was common to half the homes in this city. Nothing to fear.

Then why was she tensing as if that light from the TV were some kind of omen? “I’m coming with you.” She held up her hand as he started to protest. “I’m not going to get in your way. Jock always told me that was a stupid thing to do. If you want me to wait outside, that’s what I’ll do. But I have the gun that Jock always had me carry and I know how to use it. I’m going to be within calling distance.”

He didn’t speak for a moment and then shrugged. “Come, then.” He opened the car door. “But wait until I scout around the grounds.” He was gone only five minutes and was opening the car door for her. “It’s clear, but you stay outside and you don’t come in. Right?”

“Unless you call.” She got out of the car. “And it could happen, Royd. You’re not invulnerable.”

“I try.” He moved toward the side of the house. “The back door.”

“We could just go up to the front door and knock. He doesn’t know us. Is that too easy?”

“He might have been shown photos of you since he took over your work.” He was moving quickly. “But you’re right. I never think of the easy way. It wasn’t the way I was taught.” He stopped at the back door and listened, his gaze moving over the backyard. “And I don’t think this is going to be a situation that’s going to teach me to change my ways.”

She could sense the tension that was electrifying him. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone should be watching Gorshank if he’s important to Sanborne and knows about REM-4. Where are they? I expected to be intercepted or at least spot someone.” He paused. “Unless they’ve been pulled off because it’s no longer necessary.”

She shivered. “You mean if Gorshank’s dead.”

He didn’t answer. “Stay out here. I’ll leave the door cracked open.” He bent over the lock and gave a low whistle. “Jesus.” He straightened. “Draw that gun and keep it handy. This lock’s already been jimmied.” He opened the door and disappeared into the house.

Her hand closed on the gun in her handbag. Her heart was beating hard, fast. She found herself straining to hear something, anything from inside the house. Minutes passed, no, they crawled by. Dammit, she felt useless. If something happened to Royd, how would she be able to help him standing out here like a bump on a log?

Cool it. Jock had said that was how deadly mistakes were made. Too many cooks in the kitchen. What a trite, cozy expression for a situation so deadly.

She heard something.

A breath of sound, a footstep…

Where? In the kitchen?

No, not in the kitchen.

Behind her.

 

Thank God the house was small. It hadn’t taken Royd long to go through it and make sure there was no one lying in wait. Now to check out the living room, where Gorshank was watching his TV. He moved silently down the stairs and across the hall. He had a clear view of both the TV and Gorshank from the doorway.

CSI
was playing on the television.

But Gorshank was not watching it.

Royd paused in the doorway, his gaze on the chair facing the television set.

Ropes bound Gorshank to the chair and he was staring blindly at the flickering screen. He was gagged, his lids had been pinned open by staples and he had been castrated.

Christ. It had to be Devlin.

After checking the room, he glided toward the chair.

Dead. But it hadn’t been long. The blood was still flowing from the final knife wound in his chest.

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