Riley's Journey (2 page)

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Authors: P.L. Parker,Sandra Edwards

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Riley's Journey
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The young woman who was just here, Riley, would be perfect. She was alone and unfettered, by her own admission. Bethany pulled her file and leafed through it. The photo caught her attention. Physically, Riley was very attractive—taller than most, slim in the right places, and voluptuous where it counted. Her best features were her large emerald green eyes and long, thick auburn hair, which she had pulled back into a braid. She didn’t appear to wear cosmetics of any sort and didn’t need them in any event. She was intelligent (which was one of Bethany’s foremost prerequisites), and possessed the right education and skills to aid her survival in the environment to which she would be thrust. Better yet, nothing about Riley Ames even slightly hinted at any similarities between her and Emily. Another spasm of guilt assailed Bethany. She knew it wasn’t fair, but life hadn’t been fair to Nathan either, and this was her chance to make things right.

* * *

 

Riley spent the next few days waiting anxiously for the phone to ring. Each time it did, she jumped, her heart pounding, praying it was Dr. Collins. On the morning of the third day, the call finally came. The job was hers!

Elated, she rushed around packing and doing last minute preparations. She was told that an appointment had been set up with the university medical facility for a routine physical later that day and as soon as the results came in, she would be on her way.

She looked around the small apartment that she had called home for the past year. Nothing set it apart from any of the others she had lived in over the years. There just didn’t seem to be any reason to make it homey—she hadn’t planned on staying very long and, in any event, it was just an apartment and she was happy to leave it behind. Other than her clothes and a few of her most treasured books, everything else could be stored until she returned.

By the time the medical appointment rolled around, her bags were packed and the rest of her personal items readied for storage. One last item remained—a small photograph of her parents, the only thing she had left of her early years. Both her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was very young; this was the only treasured memento she had, and she was never without it.

After their deaths, her life changed drastically as she moved into a series of foster homes. Most of the homes were good ones and she was treated well, and since she was an excellent student, ultimately, she received a scholarship to the nearby university. She studied hard, both in undergraduate and graduate classes and now it was time to put those long years of schooling to use. She was excited at the prospect and looked forward to making a name for herself in her chosen field. Wrapping the photograph, she put it in a side pocket of her luggage, securing it carefully for the trip.

The physical proved to be embarrassing but uneventful and other than waiting for the results of a few blood tests, everything looked good. The tests would be back by tomorrow and, if everything went according to plan, by tomorrow evening she would be on her way to Montana and the start of her new life.

CHAPTER TWO

D
r. Collins met her at the small airport in Kalispell, Montana. She rushed Riley out of the airport and into a battered SUV, her attitude barely civil. A short, but beautiful drive followed to the research station north of Glacier National Park. Though it was the end of summer, the temperature in Kalispell was considerably lower than Helena, where the first leg of her flight ended—the crisp mountain air surprising her with its briskness. Dr. Collins seemed nervous and rarely spoke to her, answering in short, terse sentences if Riley asked a question; leaving Riley to wonder whether she was regretting her choice.

Electrical fences surrounded the research station, which sat in the middle of a high valley. Vicious looking dogs patrolled the fenced enclosure and a guard station at the entrance kept unwelcome visitors at bay. Dr. Collins barely flashed her ID card as she sped through the gate, careening around corners and coming to a skidding stop in front of a building identified as staff quarters.

“We’ll put you up here until the rest of the team arrives,” she pulled Riley’s luggage from the SUV and dropped it unceremoniously on the steps. A heavyset man exited the building and as he did so, he noticed them and stopped. His demeanor was not welcoming and Riley’s confusion deepened. She felt like an uninvited intruder.

“When do the rest arrive?” The concourse was empty and the whole facility was too quiet.

“Most of them won’t be here until next week sometime. Make yourself at home. There’s a small cafeteria in back, and you can use any of the rooms that are unoccupied at present. I’ll be back in the morning to give you a short tour of the facility.” With that, Dr. Collins jumped back in the SUV and sped off, leaving Riley standing by herself. The heavyset man watched for a few minutes and then walked over.

“My name’s Miles…Anderson. I’m the head of research here.” His pompous tone of voice and the small hesitation before extending his pudgy hand was downright rude.

“I thought Dr. Collins was the head?” Confused, she returned his handshake, his hostile attitude setting off warning bells.

“She is, for her part, we sort of share that responsibility. She’s more the development end, I’m pure research.” Riley felt like he was assessing her.

“Well, I’m really excited to be here and I’m anxious to start,” she responded warmly.

“Don’t get too excited. I’m against this, as Bethany well knows.” He withdrew his hand as though in distaste and turned to leave. “Watch yourself. Bethany’s known for her rash behavior and quite often acts before she thinks things through.”

As he walked away, Riley’s confusion deepened. What an odd thing to say. She was getting the distinct impression that her presence here wasn’t exactly wanted.

Gathering her bags, she hauled them up the remainder of the steps and into the building. The interior was dark and even cooler than outside. Little effort had been made to make the inside welcoming; brown tile floors, tan walls and a few run down furnishings were all that graced the main room. It reminded her of a mental institution or hospital. Doors intersected the hallway to the left and it was down that one she ventured. Not wanting to be too near the main door, she chose a door halfway down and opened it cautiously, ready to make her apology in the event it was already occupied.

The door swung open easily into a partially furnished room. A rolled up mattress sat on a military-style cot near a small metal night stand. The only other furniture was a small dresser which doubled as a desk, and a small swivel desk chair.

At best, it was bleak and uninviting. Shrugging, she put her luggage down. She had been told conditions were less than appealing and in any event, she didn’t plan on spending a lot of time in this room—she was here to do research.

Stomach growling hungrily, she followed the hallway to the back of the building. As Dr. Collins had indicated, a small cafeteria ran the entire length of the rear. Several dark complexioned individuals worked at cleaning up.

“Is it too late to get something to eat?” she asked the nearest attendant.

He grinned, “There’s always something in the refrigerator. Help yourself.” She smiled back and moved around him, heading to the kitchen.

The attendant looked quizzically at the others nearby. “Wonder what she’s doing here? Isn’t this facility supposed to be totally closed down pretty soon?” They shrugged indifferently. All they knew was that their jobs were finished and they had two weeks to find another position somewhere. He thought it was strange, but since it didn’t affect him one way or the other, he forgot about it.

* * *

 

Dr. Collins gave Riley the promised tour, albeit the abbreviated version. For such a large facility, there were very few employees lurking about. Collins’ explanation was that it would pick up when the rest of the team arrived, but until then, a large work force was unnecessary. It sounded convincing, but Riley was curious as to why she had been instructed to be here in advance of the rest of the team.

Dr. Collins didn’t seem interested in having Riley begin working, instead, she provided her with a number of books on survival in the wild, instructing her to read them as soon as possible and to pay attention to details.

Later that day, she was taken to the staff exercise area and introduced to Jonas Whitehorse, the head of the facility’s security force. Mr. Whitehorse was an American Indian, tall, dark-skinned, with black hair worn in a single braid at the base of his skull. Muscles bulged from every body part, rock hard and unyielding. Nothing soft about this man. He began by explaining that his job was to teach her the skills she would need to survive in a hostile environment and the basics of self-defense.

“Why do I need survival training and self-defense?” This didn’t sound good.

“I get paid to do what these people want, and all I know is that I’ve been instructed to teach you,” was Jonas’ simple reply. His response troubled and confused her. It didn’t take a great deal of imagination to realize that she was way out of her depth with this guy and he didn’t appear to be the type to take that into consideration.

“But I still don’t understand. I’m here to do research. Why do I need this kind of training?”

His dark eyes were guarded. “A person never knows when self-defense or survival training just might come in handy.”

For the next three hours, her life was a misery of running, jumping, crawling, dodging, rolling and whatever other inhumane torture her tormentor could dream up. At the end of the session, sweat dripping from her agonized body, Riley was convinced that she’d made a huge mistake in coming here. “Mr. Macho” looked as fresh as he did at the beginning. Grinning, he rewarded her with one tiny bit of praise, “You did okay for a greenhorn.”

Glaring at him, her body a mass of aches and pains, she limped away, fully intent on spending the rest of the day in a hot tub with some sort of alcoholic relaxant.

“Same time tomorrow,” he called at the last minute, just before she had made good her escape. Stopping, she turned, “Are you kidding, I have to suffer through this again?”

“Every day for the next two weeks—that’s the plan.” He laughed at her scowling face. He wasn’t kidding; every spare moment she had, he was drilling her on hand-to-hand combat techniques, testing her endurance and quizzing her on wilderness survival.

A week later, the rest of the team still hadn’t arrived, and when she asked Dr. Collins about it, her only reply was that there had been some sort of temporary delay and they would be arriving soon. Other than Riley’s sessions with Jonas, she had very little contact with any other residents at the facility.

CHAPTER THREE

M
iles burst into Bethany’s office. “You have to stop this! You can’t send her there. It isn’t right!”

Bethany looked up from her computer, “We’ve already gone over this a hundred times, and my answer is the same.”

“I won’t let you! I’ll contact the authorities and have a restraining order put on you.” Nervously, Miles shifted from one foot to the other, standard movements when he was agitated.

“And if you do that, what will you tell the funding committee when I tell them about the supposed research trips you’ve been taking on their money?”

He stammered. “Wha...what do you mean?”

“I mean those trips to the Bahamas, you know, the ones where all your expenses, including visits to the nearest prostitute, are paid by our research funds.” Bethany wasn’t about to let this weasel foil her plans. She’d held onto this information for just such a contingency.

“You wouldn’t dare!” he stuttered. “Besides, you don’t have any proof.”

Bethany opened her desk, taking out a stack of papers. “I have the proof right here, including a tape documenting my conversation with a Ms.—let’s see…I believe her name was Desiree or maybe Desire—anyway, she had quite a lot to say about you. It’s very simple. Either you help me or you don’t,” she stated calmly. “I’ll do what I have to do, and if you even think of stopping me, you’ll never work again. I’ll see to that. So either shut up and help me, or be prepared to spend some time in some nice little place away from the rest of the world where you’ll have your choice of boyfriends, probably a whole bunch of them.” Her threat hung ominously in the air.

Miles’ pudgy face blanched. Nervously, he cleared his throat, “So when does this happen?”

Bethany speculated briefly. “By my calculations, the window of opportunity is best on Friday and that’s what we’ll shoot for. Are you with me, or not?”

Miles hung his head miserably, his face flushed. “What choice do I have? But I want it on record that I strongly object. The girl deserves a choice.”

“What caused this surfeit of morals?” She sneered, knowing too well his past indiscretions and lack of ethics.

“I might have misused funds a time or two, but I would never stoop to murder!”


Murder
! I’m not murdering her! I’m giving Nathan hope.” Tears flooded her eyes and her lips trembled. Though the project had made some major advances, the funding committee had opted to close it down and gift the money elsewhere. Bethany had been devastated. Once the project closed, Nathan would be totally alone and lost forever. She couldn’t change the “lost forever” part of the deal, but she could change the “totally alone.”

“What do you call it,” he ground out. “Sending her there without telling her what she’s facing is as good as outright killing her.”

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