Scarlet (14 page)

"Seems like an awful lot of trouble for a stranger to go through. Especially an unknown. He took a chance by coming into town."

"I agree."

"What did he have to gain?" Jim asked.

"No idea," Red said. "But I intend to find out."

He stared at her. "You know I have to put this in my report."

"I know." Her name coming up in any kind of official death report would dampen her chances of getting hired at the sheriff's station. Red pulled off her gloves and tossed them into a nearby recycling bin, along with her apron. "I'm going to head back to the station to file an incident report. Let me know when you've finished with your examination. At this point, even minor details may be able to tell us what he was doing out there and who would want him dead." She'd certainly wanted him to get the hell out of town, but she hadn't wanted the man dead. Obviously, there had to be someone out there who did. If they were still in town, she'd find them.

Red strode out of the dissecting lab. If this guy had been a regular unknown, then the case would be open and shut. The fact that he'd ventured into town and sought her out meant there was more behind his appearance than wandering into civilization. He'd been sent here, and there was only one person she could think of who'd do such a thing.
Roark Montgomery.
The question was, why?

Red walked down the sidewalk to the sheriff's station. From the looks she was getting, word had already spread about the body. Jim had probably contacted Maggie on his way into town. Nuria would be buzzing by this evening. She looked straight ahead and ignored the townspeople's fearful gazes.

She heard someone say her name as she neared the front door of the station. Red stopped to listen.

"Do you think she did it?" someone said.

"Seems likely," Maggie answered.

"Doesn't make sense," Juan Sanchez interjected.

What was he doing back so early? They should still be out in the valley training. Had someone ordered them to return without her permission?

Maggie cleared her throat. "You aren't a member of this sheriff's station and you aren't a tactical team member yet. Just because you uncovered sabotage at the training area doesn't mean you know anything about crime solving."

Sabotage? What was happening?

"I may not be versed in investigative techniques, but I do know a little something about motive. People have to have a reason for killing," he said. "A man showing up and causing trouble isn't enough."

"You weren't there when he confronted her," Maggie countered. "Word is he made a big scene at the food dispensing station. Practically begged her to come back to him. And how does she repay him? By shooting him in the chest and cutting his throat. I'm telling you, she and her wolf are out of control. She's going to bring death to Nuria."

Red's heart sank a little further with every word uttered. They thought she was a murderer. She'd killed plenty of people, so to a certain degree that was true, but she hadn't murdered this man. It wouldn't be the first time Roark had someone else doing his dirty work. Like it or not, she had to investigate.

"Morgan, where are you when I need you?" she whispered.

*    *    *

Morgan stared down the massive corridor in the central building of the Santa Fe Cloning Laboratory. Hundreds of doors lined the walls, each one secured and labeled in a language comprehensible to scientists alone. He'd already searched two outlying buildings and come up empty. How in the world was he going to find Sarah and Joshua?

He stepped forward and stood at attention, something he hadn't done since his days in the old military. The position felt odd, but strangely familiar. "Morgan Hunter reporting for duty, sir."

A squat man with a wide forehead turned his green gaze on Morgan. Rows of monitors surrounded him in a cocoon of static images. He sat in the center, pressing buttons rapid fire. Morgan couldn't tell what the buttons did from his vantage point, but the man seemed happy with what he saw.

"You the new guy?" he asked, using his flat tongue to flick at the debris stuck in his yellowed teeth from his last meal.

Morgan straightened and stood a little taller. "Yes, sir," he said, giving his uniform a last tug into place.

"Heard all about you. Nice to finally meet you." The man gave him a leisurely perusal that caused the hair on the back of Morgan's neck to stand on end. He'd received that kind of look from women on several occasions, but never a man. The man's gaze followed the line of his body back up to his face, his interest clear.

Morgan wasn't sure how to react so he stood stock still and kept his expression neutral. Apparently, that wasn't the response the man was hoping for because he dropped his gaze.

"You'll be on patrol with Smith here." He pointed to his right without looking.

A blond, fresh-faced guard stepped forward and gave him
a curt nod, then extended his hand. Morgan shook it.

"Listen to everything he tells you and we'll get along just fine," he said, then swirled back to face his monitors.

Morgan started to leave.

"By the way," the man called out, stopping him. Morgan's heart raced in his chest. He knew there was no way anyone should suspect him, but being in this facility so far from Nuria and Gina made him nervous. Even if no one else realized what he was up to yet, Morgan knew.

"Yes," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

"My name is Coleman Parker, but everyone calls me 'the Eye of God.'" He waved his hands at the monitors. "If you need anything, anything at all, call me."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind," Morgan said, then followed Smith down the hall.

When they were out of visual range and earshot, Smith stopped him. "Don't mind Coleman." he said. "He's really harmless."

"It's not going to be a problem. I've met his type before." Love was love as far as Morgan was concerned. People had to find it where they could.

"He's actually okay to work for. The guy before him was a real ass. Made an easy job hard. By the way, you can call me Pete."

Morgan smiled. "Okay, Pete it is. My name's Morgan Hunter. Everyone calls me Morgan."

Pete grinned and started walking again. "This job is a little confusing in the beginning. We have access to some of the doors, but not all unless there's a fire, in which case the doors automatically unlock so everyone can get out before they seal once more. But that's not likely. Someone like Coleman is always on guard, watching for anything out of the ordinary. The sweepers would get to any sort of blaze and contain it before it got out of control."

"Sweepers?"

"They're our automated fire control and maintenance system. They're three feet high and made of rolling steel. Get out of the way if you see them speeding down the hall."

"Why?" Morgan asked.

"They're not known for their braking abilities." Pete chuckled. "I found that out the hard way when I first started." He pulled up his pants leg so Morgan could see the gnarled scar on his shin.

"Looks painful," Morgan said.

"It hurt like a son of a bitch."

Morgan laughed. "Thanks for the tip." He filed the information away. "What about our patrol route?" he asked. "Do we make our way around the entire facility?"

Pete shook his head. "No, we don't go near the fields or crops. Something about contamination."

Crops didn't refer to plants. It was what they called the new clones. Morgan had read up on the subject after he'd put his application in. It was still hard to think about the growing of clones as crops, but he supposed it made it easier for the scientists involved. Kept the emotion out of production. That way if a bad "crop" was developed, they could destroy them without any guilt.

"But what if something happens in the development lab? Surely they want us to be able to address the problem." Morgan's mind worked overtime as he tried to figure out how to gain access to the cloning cell storage area. There had to be a way in. He hadn't gone to all this trouble to be deterred now.

"For security purposes, development is broken up into several labs." Pete frowned, his pale brows nearly opaque against his skin. "Besides, there haven't been any problems like that within this facility. A few wackos have tried to force their way in through the front gates, but they were quickly neutralized. I wasn't here when it happened. It was before my time. They've beefed up security since then. You'd have to be suicidal to try to break into this place. Even if you made it in, we wouldn't let you leave." He elbowed Morgan playfully.

"Yep, they'd be sorry once we got a hold of them." Morgan had never considered this a suicide mission. Dangerous and difficult, yes. Suicidal, no. What if he'd been wrong? What if this was impossible and he was wasting his time? He thought about Gina. He thought of never seeing her again, touching her, smelling her skin.

Emotion welled within him and he forced it down, closing himself off to that tender place that left him feeling vulnerable. He couldn't afford to be distracted. Not when he was so close to finding his family.

"So how long have you worked here?" he asked.

Pete bit his lip as he considered the question. "It'll be four years in March."

Morgan blinked.

"What's the matter?" Pete asked.

"From the way you were talking, I figured you'd been here longer. Much longer," he said.

Pete ducked his head and looked around sheepishly. "This place has a high turnaround rate. Don't know why. It's an easy job. A hell of a lot easier than shoveling pig shit," he said. "I guess the pressure gets to people. Doesn't bother me though," he added quickly.

"What pressure'?" Morgan asked, watching a couple of scientists walk by. They didn't even look up from their conversation. He made another mental note and then turned his attention back to Pete.

"You're always being watched. Doesn't matter what your job is here. They like to know what all their people are doing at all times. Makes some people a little paranoid."

Morgan looked around. "I don't see any vids."

Pete smiled. "You wouldn't. That's the whole point." He winked, then pointed to a couple of obscure dots on the wall that looked like rivets. "Coleman can watch us wherever we go. Those screens at the front of the facility aren't for show. They're the real deal. The Santa Fe Cloning Lab has sunk a lot of money into security. Terrorists aren't the only ones who want in here. Their competitors are just as relentless— maybe more so. They tried bribing me once, but I told them to take a hike."

"I imagine this is a pretty tough market."

He nodded. "Tougher than people realize. If they come out with the next popular clone, it could set the company up for years. If they lose the race to produce the next hot thing. well, then we're both out of a job. Along with a thousand other people. Cloning is a cutthroat business."

Morgan scratched his chin, which had already started to shadow despite the shave he'd given himself a few hours earlier. "I can see how that wouldn't be a good thing," he said. "Don't want to be out of a job before I've had a chance to start."

"Me either." Pete shook his head. "I need my job too much to allow anyone to take it away from me." His soft features hardened, making him appear older.

"So tell me about this place. It's not like the other two buildings," Morgan said.

Pete perked up, his dark mood vanishing in an instant. "It's set up a bit like a tree, if their branches grew straight up and out to the sides. There's one main hall and we're standing in it. Eight other halls branch off from this main one. Product assembly is off to the left and development is on the right."

"Seems like a lot of ground to cover for two guys," Morgan said, knowing he'd seen at least three other teams.

"Oh it isn't just the two of us. There are six other teams covering the grounds at all times."