No Place to Hide (13 page)

Ian stepped forward. “Holly? Lucy? It’s Ian.” He heard the panic in his voice as he took in the trashed apartment. He vaguely registered Gus coming inside the open door behind him. Ian let go of the dog’s leash and raced to the bedroom. Chaos. Drawers pulled out and dumped, the bedclothes ripped off and on the floor. A picture of Lucy and Holly smiled up at him, their expression contorted by the broken glass.

“They’ve destroyed the whole place,” Jackie muttered.

“She’s not here,” Ian called.

“Yes, I am. What in the world?”

Ian and Jackie turned as one.

“Holly!” Ian bolted to her and grabbed her in a bear hug. “When I saw this place, I thought the worst.”

Holly yanked away from him, sputtering as she stared at her apartment, her gaze dazed, afraid. She pulled her stunned gaze away from the disaster and stared at Ian. “Who are you?”

“It’s me, Holly. Ian.”

“Ian?” Her eyes narrowed, then widened. “Ian? Is that really you?” She threw herself into his arms and hugged him. “I’m so glad you’re okay. The news—”

“I know. I know.” Ian ran his hands over his cousin’s red hair and scanned every inch of her pretty heart-shaped face.
She had lost weight and looked extremely fragile, but she was alive. They hadn’t gotten to her.

“We need to go,” Jackie said softly. “If the FBI is watching, they know she’s here. They’ll be up here shortly.”

Ian shot a brief look at Jackie and noted her tension, her worry. “Right. Right,” he agreed. He looked back at his cousin. Confusion stared back at him, her light green eyes taking in the disaster behind him. Belatedly, he noticed the rolling carry-on sitting in the hallway and the computer bag still looped over her shoulder. “You were traveling.”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat, her gaze bouncing between him and Jackie. “My . . . uh . . . plane landed about an hour ago.” She pulled away from Ian and stepped further inside. “My apartment—what happened here?”

“Why aren’t you answering your phone? Where’s Lucy?”

She blinked and reached into her coat pocket, her eyes still on the disaster before her. “I had it turned off and just forgot to turn it back on. Lucy’s staying with a friend of mine.”

“Ian . . .” Jackie nudged him, her jaw tense.

He nodded and moved toward the door. “What about yesterday? Why didn’t you answer yesterday?”

“I was . . . um . . . busy yesterday and didn’t check my messages until late. I needed some personal time.” Her eyes began to spark. “Is there some law against that?”

Ian’s shoulders slumped. She was okay. She wasn’t lying in a pool of blood in her apartment, dead because of him. And Lucy was safe with a friend. “No, it’s fine. Of course it’s okay. I’m sorry.” He breathed a sigh. “Thank you, Lord,” he whispered. “We need to go, though. You’ll have to come with us.”

“Go with you? Are you insane? I’m not going anywhere. You’re in some big trouble, mister.” Her brief moment of spunk
fled, replaced by concern as she seemed to recall that he was a wanted man.

His laugh held no humor. “Yes, I’m aware.” He moved closer to the door. Jackie continued her vigilance at the window, but he could see the impatience vibrating through her.

“I did try to call you, but you didn’t answer.”

“I had to ditch my phone. I couldn’t chance having it traced.” Ian grabbed her suitcase and tried to herd her toward the door.

“Stop it. I’m not going anywhere. At least not until I understand what’s going on. What happened, Ian? Why are you being accused of terrorism and murder? I don’t believe a bit of it.”

Jackie’s impatience was starting to wear off on him. “Thank you for that. It’s not true, of course.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I called your father looking for you.”

“He finally got me last night and told me.” She flushed, the bit of color in her cheeks making her look a little more like his cousin rather than the pale, washed-out waif she’d become since he’d last seen her. “I’d been ignoring him, but when he persisted in calling every thirty minutes, I figured it was important. He told me what was going on. And then ordered me to stay away from you.” Her jaw hardened. “Which is why I came home immediately. I figured if you were trying to get in touch with me, you needed me.”

“He wouldn’t tell me where you were.” He paced three steps, then spun on his heel and paced back. “I was imagining all kinds of—” He shuddered. “I’m just glad you’re all right. We can talk later. Now we need to go.”

She swept a hand toward her belongings. “But I need to call the cops, report this.”

“Uh . . . no.” Ian nodded to Jackie who stood by the window, her shoulders stiff, a vein pulsing in her forehead.

She turned her gaze on him and Holly, offering a tight smile.
“Holly, we don’t have time to explain everything, just that there are people after us who know we might come here. Not to mention the FBI. So we really need to get somewhere safe. Then we can talk.”

Holly blinked. And blinked again. Recognition finally hit her. “Jackie? Oh Jackie!” Holly crossed the room, stepping over strewn items including an end table. The two women embraced. “It’s so good to see you. Are you all right? What are you doing here?”

“Helping Ian—and on the run myself.”

Holly looked around and she shuddered. “This is crazy. What they’re accusing him of is too.”

“I know. That’s why I’m helping him.”

“At great risk to herself,” Ian said.

Holly’s gaze turned back to her cousin. “And you think this break-in has something to do with you? That someone has made the connection between us and came here looking for . . . me?”

“I’m sure it does.”

“But why?”

“I sent you a fax. I’m assuming you didn’t get it.”

His cousin lifted a brow. “No. What fax?”

“A fax with a code on it.” Ian started to reach for it, but Jackie shook her head. “Enough. We need to move. Now. Let’s go.” She walked to the window. “I’m not so worried about the FBI at this point. If they haven’t put in an appearance by now, they’re probably not here. But we just can’t stay here any longer.” She looked at Holly. “You’ll have to come with us.”

“What?” Holly blinked. “Um. No, I can’t.”

“They’ll kill you if you don’t.”

Her blunt statement made Holly blink. “Wha—why?”

Ian felt his heart break at his cousin’s confusion. He’d done this.

“They’re here.” Jackie moved from the window toward the
door. “Let’s go before we’re trapped.” She looked at Holly. “I’m sorry. Grab the carry-on and move fast.”

“Is it the cops or the bad guys?” Ian asked as he grabbed the carry-on and shoved his cousin in front of him.

“Not sure and I’m not stopping to ask.” She looked at the dog.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Ian agreed. “Let’s go, Gus.”

Gus rose and came to Ian’s left knee. Holly resisted, her sputtering protests slowing them down.

Ian grabbed her arm and looked her in the eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” She didn’t hesitate.

“Then come with me. Now.”

Holly snapped her lips together and followed them out the door. Gus trotted alongside Ian, ears pricked, hackles raised. They clattered down the stairs. “I don’t think this is necessary, Ian. If they come back, I’ll just tell them I don’t know anything.”

“Are you really that naïve?”

They reached the bottom of the stairs, walked through the small pass-through, and pushed through the front door that would lead outside.

As the door opened, bullets riddled the sidewalk in front of them.

Holly’s scream echoed those in the area. This time there were several people out back and they moved fast, hitting the ground or running. Jackie aimed her weapon, then lowered it. Ian figured she wanted to fire back, but was probably too afraid of hitting an innocent person.

“Run!” she hollered. “Back through the building, then around to the truck!”

“Who is it?” Ian yelled.

“Not the cops.”

The police would have identified themselves. And wouldn’t
have shot without doing so. His heart thudded and fear for the two women raced like wildfire through his veins.

Holly clutched his hand. Gus followed after Jackie, nearly yanking the leash from Ian’s grasp.

More shots followed. His left arm stung and he gasped, but kept going. Horror and fury filled him. These people didn’t care who they killed, had no thought for the innocent ones caught in the crossfire. Ian bolted out the back door that led to the grassy area where Gus had taken care of business only a little while earlier. Jackie didn’t pause. She hit the line of hedges and forced her way through. She looked back. “This way.”

Holly’s fingers trembled in his, but she didn’t hesitate to follow him and Gus through the bushes.

Jackie led them around the side of the building. Ian pressed his back against it and waited while she peered around the corner. “Come on.”

Within seconds, they were in the truck.

“Did they see us?” Ian asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Jackie said. “After they shot at us, they took off. I saw two cars blend in with traffic and turn off on a side road.” She glanced at Ian. “Are you all right?”

He looked down at his left bicep and remembered the sting he’d felt when they were running. He’d forgotten about it, but now seeing the blood, the pain hit him. “It stings, but I’ll be fine. It’s just a graze.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

She shook her head. “We were awfully lucky tonight.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it. I’m thanking God.”

“Then we’re safe?” Holly asked.

“For now,” Jackie muttered.

Ian didn’t like the grim tone, but knew she was right. While
they might be safe at this moment, he wasn’t going to get too comfortable.

Holly held out her hand. “Let me see the code.”

Gus shifted and laid his head on Holly’s knee. He gazed up at her and flicked his ears. Holly scratched his head and the dog closed his eyes. Ian shoved a hand into his coat pocket and pulled out the paper and handed it to Holly.

She took it with a frown. “New York on standby?”

“Yes, we got that one. Unless it’s code for something else.”

“And you want me to figure out the rest?”

“That was the idea, but now I wish I’d never involved you.”

She shook her head. “I’ll have to study it. It’s not a code I recognize right off and I’m sure the underlining means something.”

“They probably made up their own code,” Jackie said.

“Of course.” She looked up. “And you think this email has something to do with—” she looked back in the direction of her trashed home with a hard swallow—“that?”

“Yes.”

7:55 P.M.
SOUTH CAROLINA

Ron climbed the steps to the state house in Columbia, South Carolina. Security greeted him at the door and opened it. He stepped inside and headed for the west wing where he had an appointment with Governor Nancy Harkins. The stately building boasted white Georgian marble walls. His footsteps echoed on the pink-and-white marble floors. On this Monday evening, the place was empty, a vacuum, everyone ready to get home to their families or head to the gym just as soon as the clock had struck five.

Which was perfect. Ron didn’t want an audience.

He approached the governor’s office and knocked.

“Come in, Ron.”

He entered to find the governor sitting behind her desk, glasses perched on the tip of her aristocratic nose, typing something on her keyboard. Her fingers stilled and she looked over the rims of her glasses, smiled, and stood to shake his hand.

“Thank you for seeing me, Nancy.”

“Of course. You have me curious. What can I do for you?”

She came around the edge of the desk and motioned for him to take a seat in one of the two wing-backed chairs. He sat and crossed his legs, praying for the right words. She sat next to him.

“I’m involved in the Ian Lockwood case and I need to run some things by you.”

Her gaze sharpened and her shoulders straightened. She leaned forward and placed her linked hands on her lap. “Now I understand why you didn’t want to meet at the house.”

“I didn’t want Paul to overhear and I didn’t want him to feel left out if I had to ask him to leave the room.” Ron liked her husband, but this wasn’t a social call.

“All right.” She narrowed her intent green eyes. “Tell me.”

“As you know, I’ve been helping with Operation Refuge.”

The governor nodded. “I know. That’s one pie I keep my finger in.”

“Making sure it doesn’t come back to bite you?”

Her lips tilted. “Something like that. But they’re all professionals and they’ve done some amazing work.”

“I’ll be straight with you. I’m concerned about the whole Ian Lockwood thing.”

“Ian Lockwood. The terrorist on the run. And Jackie’s joined up with him. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Ron scoffed. “You don’t believe it any more than I do.”

Nancy eyed him, studying him. “How do you know? How do Ian Lockwood and Operation Refuge fit together?”

“Jackie’s not only one of Operation Refuge’s operatives.”

“Okay . . . ”

He pulled in a deep breath and rubbed his lips. “She’s also my niece.”

“Ah.” She leaned back. “So this case is a bit personal.”

“To say the least.”

“In all the years we’ve known each other, worked together, had meals together, you’ve never mentioned her.”

He cleared his throat. “No. You know I like to keep my personal life separate from my business.”

“I see.”

“No you don’t.” He sighed. He was messing this up. “You’re a good friend, Nancy, but talking about family has never been something either of us has had time for.”

“But we do now?”

“I have a reason.”

“Go on.”

Ron rubbed his chin. “I was overseas for a long time. My father took Jackie in when her parents split up. I came home after he died to take care of his affairs and pick up where he left off.”

“Looking after Jackie.”

“Right.”

“How does she know Ian?”

“He’s a childhood friend.”

“And now she’s on the run with him. I see your dilemma.” No, she didn’t, but Ron kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t ready to let her know exactly how involved he was in this case. Not yet. “So what do you want to know?” She leaned back and clasped her hands loosely in her lap.

“What’s going on with the CDC? Why is the government encouraging citizens to get the smallpox vaccine shortly after a high-level employee and his family are murdered? Did he steal the virus? Is that virus out there and the government is covering it up?”

Nancy’s expression didn’t change. “What makes you think there’s a connection?”

Ron simply stared at her. She sighed and rose to pace to the window.

“Just a simple yes or no is all I need, Nancy. I need to know what we’re up against. Did someone steal the virus?”

She turned, her face grim. “Yes, and we don’t know what they’re going to do with it.”