Текст книги "Firestorm "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Panic soared through her. “No, I can't see. It's too dark.”

“Look at him.”

“Shut up. Get out of here.”

“The hell I will. I'm staying until you stop being a martyr and look at that bastard.”

“I won't do it.” She closed her eyes tightly. “Go away.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“He's going to hurt me.”

“That's not why you're afraid. Tell me.”

“Go away.”

“Look at him.”

She found herself opening her eyes and looking up at that shadowy face above her. “No! I won't do it. I won't.” She frantically pulled away and shut her eyes again. “Go away. Let me alone.”

“Dammit, stop pushing me away. I'm trying to—”

“No!”

She woke to see Silver bending over her. “Damn you.” She shoved him away and sat up in bed. “What the devil did you think you were doing?”

“I don't have to think, I know I was scaring the bejesus out of you.” He swung his feet to the floor and got to his feet. “Come on, let's get you in the shower. You've broken out in a cold sweat.”

Yes, she had, and she was shaking so badly that she could barely talk. “And you had nothing to do with it, I suppose. Those nightmares are bad enough without you sticking in your two cents worth.”

“Then get rid of them.” He pulled her out of bed and wrapped her in a sheet. “Shower. You can spit at me later.”

“I want to spit at you now.” But she let him lead her toward the bathroom. She was in no shape to fight a battle right now. “You had no right to—”

“Hush.” He pushed her under the warm spray of the shower and then got in with her. “You're absolutely correct. I intruded, I violated your privacy, I even broke my own code.” He grimaced as he handed her the sponge. “Such as it is. I constantly seem to be bending the rules.”

“You shouldn't have done—” She stopped as he began kneading her neck. God, that felt good. The tension was flowing out of her. “I'm not going to forgive you. How can I trust—”

“Shh, think about it later.”

Yes, think about it later. The heat of the water was banishing the chill, and his touch was soothing away her tension. She closed her eyes and let herself drift.

“Good.” Minutes passed and then he was bundling her out of the shower and toweling her off. “Now let's get you back to bed and I'll let you vent.”

She didn't want to vent, she realized. Any attack she made would lead to a confrontation, and she was afraid Silver would—

“You bet I will.” He wrapped her in a blanket and tucked her in bed before crawling in beside her. “But you've been through enough tonight. I'll let you off.”

“Don't expect me to thank you. And are you still spying on me? Get the hell out.”

“I got out. But you know I can't keep from picking up on an odd thought or two when you scream it at me.” His arms enfolded her and he cuddled close, spoon fashion. “Go to sleep. You're done with dreaming for tonight.” He brushed her temple with his lips. “If you wander too close, I'll jerk you back.”

“Or jump in where you don't belong.”

“I belong.”

“The hell you do.” She was silent a moment before she asked, “Why did you do it, Silver?”

“You were in pain. I couldn't stand it.”

“It was my pain, my memories. My right to handle them.”

“You're not handling them. You're hiding, and as long as you do that, they're going to torment you.”

“So you tried to force me to come out of hiding?”

“You'd know it if I used force. I was just nudging a little.”

“You kept telling me to look at his face. That was stupid. It was too dark for me to see anything.”

“Was it? He was under the streetlight.”

“Not when he turned on me. I ran after him. He was in the shadow.”

“So he was a total blank page.”

“Yes, of course he was.” She stiffened. “Why don't you believe me?”

“Because you don't believe it yourself.”

“I do. I do.”

“Easy. I'm not pushing you right now.” He pulled her closer. “Go to sleep.”

“I can't go to sleep. How do you expect me to sleep when you keep saying things to stir me up? Just stay away from—”

“I can't.” His voice was low. “I won't.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you decide to walk away from me, you're going to take something with you. This is something I can give you. Something no one else will ever be able to give you.”

She was silent. “You mean, you're doing this to give me a kind of . . . present?”

“You might call it that. Or you might say my ego won't let me be forgotten. It's my way of assuring my immortality in your eyes. Either way, you have something broken and I'm going to fix it.”

“Even if I don't want you to do it.”

“Then fight me. You managed to push me out this time. You're getting stronger all the time. You might be able to send me on my way.”

“I will.” She closed her eyes. “You're right: You get in my way and I'll send you packing.” It was strange to think of rejecting him in any way when she was lying close like this. He always managed to make her feel wonderfully treasured. Dear God, she would miss it when they were no longer together. “And now I'd appreciate it if you'd stop talking so that I can rest.”

“I'll be quiet as a mouse.”

“I don't like mice. They scamper.”

“Well, I don't scamper. I stride like a lion.”

She yawned. “Too many metaphors.”

“I agree. So I'll just shut up.”

“That was what I asked in the beginning.” She tried to relax. Close out the world. Close out the dream. Close out Silver. No, she couldn't close out Silver. He was always with her now. But that was okay because he was like a part of her, comfortable and familiar. . . .

She was just drifting from waking to sleep when Silver whispered in her ear, “What did you see, Kerry?”

What was he talking about? she thought hazily.

“What did you see when you looked up at him? Tell me.”

“Can't . . .”

“Yes, you can. Just tell me and then you can go to sleep. Reach deep. What did you see?”

Reach deep . . .

Darkness. Fire outlining his tall body and casting his face in shadow.

“Blue eyes,” she whispered. “Blue eyes . . .”

14

Dickens's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he hit a rut and almost skidded off the road.

“Son of a bitch!” The curse was followed by a string of other obscenities. He'd be lucky if he got back to town without a flat tire. That's all he needed. He'd have to change it himself, because he was under Trask's orders not to attract undue attention. As if he'd be that stupid. But Trask thought everybody but himself was an idiot and treated them that way.

Just a few miles more and he could turn around and get out of here. Check it out and then he'd be able to call Trask and give him his report. He hoped to hell it was going to be what the bastard wanted. This was the eighth trip he'd had to take, and he was sick of it.

He drove around the bend and there it was.

He gave a low whistle.

He parked the car on the side of the road before glancing down at the photo on the seat beside him.

Maybe. Just maybe . . .

Blue eyes.

It was the first thought that came to Kerry's mind when she woke the next morning. One moment she was deep in slumber and the next wide awake, her heart pounding as if she'd been running. She sat upright in bed. What the hell?

And where was Silver?

She swung her legs to the floor and jumped out of bed.

Five minutes later she was dressed and running down the stairs.

“Good morning,” George said as he came in the front door. “You look a bit edgy.”

“You might say that. Where's Silver?”

“Right behind me. We were checking over the grounds. He wanted to make sure that the guards weren't missing any signs of intruders. A suspicious man is our Brad.”

“Your Brad. I'm not claiming him at the moment.”

His brows lifted. “Indeed? Then maybe he had reason to get away from the house for a while.” He turned as Silver came in the door. “You're in her bad books.” He moved toward the library. “And I'm out of here. I think I should be hearing from the CIA any time now on the identity of our mysterious Helen, and I need to be available.” He cast a glance at Kerry over his shoulder. “Try not to damage him too badly. I still haven't had my rematch with him.”

“He may have waited too long,” Kerry said grimly as the door shut behind George. “Now he'll have to stand in line. What did you do to me?”

“I thought we'd discussed that last night.”

“Don't give me that. I mean right before I went to sleep. Did you give me some sort of posthypnotic suggestion to jog my memory?”

He was silent a moment. “Maybe.”

“And it wasn't just coincidence I had that dream last night.”

He shrugged. “There aren't many true coincidences in this world.”

She hadn't known until this moment how desperately she'd wanted to be wrong. “Damn you. It was bad enough that you barged in where you had no business. You actually manipulated me. You said you wouldn't do that. You promised me. Why the hell did you break your word?”

“I couldn't think of any other way to do it. You were resisting me tooth and nail. I had to catch you when you were relaxed and your defenses were down.”

“And it didn't occur to you that you'd destroy any trust I had in you?”

“It occurred to me. I decided it was worth the chance. He was the monster who haunted you all your life. You needed to face him instead of hiding.”

“In your judgment.”

“In my judgment.”

“You arrogant son of a bitch.”

“Yes, I certainly am. I never denied that I'm a selfish bastard and that I probably ran the risk for my benefit too.” He added simply, “I couldn't stand you hurting. Every time I touched that part of you, it made me . . . ache. It had to end, Kerry.”

“And just what do you think you gained?”

“If you'd let yourself look beyond the anger, you might find out.”

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

“Blue eyes,” he said softly. “He had blue eyes. Why didn't you want to remember that, Kerry?”

“Maybe I didn't remember. Maybe you planted that thought when you were—”

“You don't believe that,” he interrupted. “Cut through the bullshit and tell me why you blocked out of your memory the man who killed your mother.”

“I didn't. I was in a coma, and when I woke I couldn't remember.”

“But you remembered last night. You remembered blue eyes. If I'd probed a little deeper, would you have been able to describe him?”

“No!”

“I think you would.”

“You're wrong.” Her hands clenched into fists. “You're completely wrong.”

“Why did the sight of his face drive you into shock?”

“I was scared.”

“Yes, you were.” He paused. “Who do you know with blue eyes?”

“That's an idiotic question. I know dozens of people with blue eyes.” She whirled on her heel and threw open the door. “I'm not going to listen to you anymore. Just stay away from me.”

“I will,” he said quietly, as he followed her down the steps. “You need to be alone to sort things out. If I can help, I'll be here for you.”

“I've had enough of your help.” She started down the driveway toward the trees bordering the gates. “And I have no intention of trying to sort anything out. I just don't want to be around you.”

“Intentional or not, you're not one who can bury her head in the sand.” He sat down on the steps. “You'll start asking yourself questions in spite of yourself. It's not going to be easy, but you have the courage to face it. When you stop running away, come back and we'll talk.”

“I don't want to talk.” She could feel his gaze on her back as she stalked into the trees. And she wasn't running away, dammit. She was angry and wanted to be alone. It was a natural reaction when someone you trusted betrayed you. And she wasn't burying her head in the sand. Perhaps he had been able to stir memories that the police and psychoanalysts had never been able to bring to the forefront. That didn't mean she'd intentionally hidden them from—

Blue eyes.

She skittered quickly away from the thought. She wouldn't think about it. She wouldn't think of anything Silver had said. He was wrong. There was nothing that—

Running away.

If she was too panic-stricken to think about his words, then there might be truth in what he said.

God, she didn't want there to be truth. She didn't want him to be right.

She could ignore it. She could ignore him.

The hell she could. It wasn't honest, and she always tried to be honest with herself.

Or maybe she hadn't been.

She stopped in the shadow of one of the giant oaks as the thought occurred to her. Maybe the honesty was only on the surface. Maybe she hadn't had the guts to delve deep.

But Silver had said she would have the courage, and he knew her better than anyone.

She leaned her cheek against the rough bark of the tree and closed her eyes.

Blue eyes . . .

The sun was going down when Kerry came back to the house. Silver was still sitting on the top step where she had left him hours before.

She braced herself. She'd hoped to have a little more time before she faced him. “Don't you have anything better to do than hang around here?”

“No.” He smiled. “Well, there were a few earth-shattering matters that might have required my attention, but I figured you were more important. When you turn up the heat, it's only right that you stick around to make sure the subject doesn't boil over.”

“I'm not one of your ‘subjects.'”

His smile faded. “Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. But I believe you know that I don't regard you that impersonally. What's between us is definitely on a personal level.”

Yes, it was. So personal that sometimes she couldn't bear the intimacy. “And I wasn't about to shatter into pieces because you behaved like an asshole and broke your promise.” She sat down on the step beside him. “Though I'll never forgive you for doing it.”

He looked away from her. “I knew that was a possibility.”

“Of course you did. But you couldn't resist diving in and trying to fix things to suit yourself.”

“It's what I do.” He didn't speak for a moment. “And since you're not spitting fire and brimstone at me, I must have started you thinking.”

“I'm too tired to be angry right now. That may come later.”

“Soul-searching can be an exhausting process.”

“Don't be pretentious. I wasn't searching my soul. My soul is fine and dandy.” She paused. “But just maybe you were right about me hiding from what happened that night.”

His glance shifted back to her. “Hallelujah,” he said softly. “Breakthrough.”

“I said maybe.” She moistened her lips. “I can't think of any other reason why I didn't– If it was right there in my memory, why didn't it come to the surface in all these years?”

“You tell me.”

Her linked hands clenched together. “Blue eyes.”

He didn't speak.

“Dammit, don't just sit there like some kind of all-knowing sphinx.”

“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to ask the question again? Okay, who do you know with blue eyes?”

“I told you that—” She drew a deep breath. “My entire family has blue eyes. I have blue eyes. My aunt Marguerite had blue eyes. My brother, Jason, has blue eyes.”

“And?”

She couldn't speak for a moment. “My father has blue eyes,” she said jerkily. “There. Are you satisfied?”

“Are you?”

“Stop acting like a shrink. Answering a question with a question.” But she had to get it out. So just say it. “My father and mother were getting a divorce. I remember . . . ugliness. The fights were very bitter. They were fighting about everything. Me, Jason, the house we lived in. The brownstone was my father's family home, but my mother wanted it. When my father took Jason away on that trip to Canada, I was almost glad he wasn't there anymore.”

“A natural reaction.”

“I felt guilty about it.” Strange that she could remember that day her father left the house now when she hadn't all these years. The memory of watching Jason and him get in the yellow taxi that had pulled up in front of the brownstone and feeling only relief. “But I was hurt that he was taking Jason and not me. I thought he didn't love me anymore. I knew he didn't love my mother anymore. Why should he love me?”

“A child is different.”

“He took Jason. He never asked me to go. When my father and mother argued, it was always about whether he was going to get Jason. Mother said that Jason and I should stay together, but he wanted his son.”

“I believe I'm beginning to develop a dislike for both your parents. You shouldn't have been witness to any of those battles.”

She shrugged. “When there's so much hate, it spills over and feeds on itself.”

“Like a fire.”

She met his gaze. “Like that fire.”

“You think your father set the fire that killed your mother.”

“I don't know. All afternoon I've been trying to fight my way through the resentment and bewilderment I felt toward him. He hated her. He didn't love me. He didn't want her to have the house. So what happened? The house burned down. My mother died. I ended up in a hospital for two years.”

“But you were a witness. He could have found an opportunity to kill you while you were lying helpless during that period.”

“But it would have been taking a chance. Who knows? I was in a coma. I could have slipped away at any time. And after I woke up, I didn't remember anything, so he would have been safe. It wasn't necessary to get rid of me.”

“Then you do think he did it?”

“I must have thought it was him. I didn't want to believe he was a murderer. If I did, I wouldn't have blocked that memory.”

“A man with blue eyes. Not good enough evidence. What else do you remember?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. You pulled that out of me by sheer brute force.”

“But you fought me. You didn't let me dig deeper.”

“I saw his eyes. The rest of his face was in shadow.”

“The eyes were only your first impression. You thought you recognized him and it sent you into shock. I can help you remember his other features.”

“It was too dark,” she said quickly.

“It wasn't too dark for you to realize he had blue eyes.”

“I must have seen the glint from the reflection of the fire.”

“Or it could be that it happened in a split second and you only received a quick impression. If I freeze that moment, you'll have time to look at separate features.”

“And now you're stopping time? It boggles the mind. My, my, what next?”

“You never can tell. I'm a man of infinite possibilities.” His gaze searched her face. “You're scared, aren't you?”

“I'm not—” She stopped. “Maybe. It's too new. I never realized I suspected my father of being a murderer.”

“Suspect is the key word. Don't you want to know?”

She wasn't sure she did. Every time she thought about it she felt a rising panic. “It's . . . difficult. I could be wrong. It could be a complete stranger.”

“And you don't want it to be your father. There's a basic instinct that makes us want to believe in the goodness of our parents. You recognized it in Carmela. That's probably why you were in denial all these years.”

“You have it all figured out. It's not that easy.”

“I never said it was easy.” He paused. “You're not ready yet, are you? You won't let me help you.”

“I believe I've had enough of your help.”

“No, you haven't. But that's okay. You need time to absorb the shock and become accustomed to the idea that you can't hide any longer.”

“I'm glad you think it's okay.” Her voice was laden with sarcasm as she got to her feet. “I'd hate not to have your approval. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find George and see if he's found out anything more about that woman friend of Trask's.”

He nodded. “You do that.” He stood up. “And, as I'm sure you'd prefer I stay out of your way for a while, I'll tend to a few of those earthshaking matters I mentioned.”

“What?”

He smiled. “I got a phone call from Travis. Rosa's arriving at the airport in a couple hours.”

“Louisville DFACS has released her?”

“Into Ledbruk's custody. It took some high-level arm-twisting to ignore all the red tape connected with kids removed from the parental home, but they finally did it.”

Relief rushed through her. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“You were a little preoccupied. I'm going to pick her up and take her to the safe house Ledbruk's arranged for her.”

“Why not bring her here?”

“You promised Carmela that Rosa would be safe. Do you really think we'd provide the safest haven for her? You're a prime target, and Trask would get the greatest enjoyment out of taking me out.”

He was right. The greater distance Rosa was from either of them, the safer she'd be. Kerry just didn't like the idea of a child not having anyone but Secret Service agents around her. “She's only twelve.”

“I'm sure Ledbruk will arrange to have a female agent stay with her. And I'll get a phone number from Ledbruk where you can call her.”

She guessed that was as good as it was going to get. “Explain everything to her. Tell her Carmela will be—”

“Oh, for God's sake, I'm not going to just throw her out of the car and into the arms of the law,” he said sharply. “I do have some sensitivity. Hell, I like kids.” He started down the steps. “I'll see you when I get back.”

He was angry again, and she could almost feel the sting of the barbs in his voice. Well, she couldn't help it. She wasn't about to try to soothe him right now when she was being jabbed by a few thorns of her own.

A few? That was an understatement. She felt torn and bruised and, yes, scared. Silver had ripped aside the dark curtain of lies she'd been telling herself for years, leaving her naked and vulnerable. She wanted that curtain back. It had hidden a horror she didn't want to face yet.

But when would she want to face it? She couldn't go back. Silver, with his usual brutal efficiency, had made sure she wouldn't be able to deceive herself again.

What was she thinking? Fear was one thing, self-deceit was another, and she'd had her fill of it. She wasn't prepared to delve deep into that memory right now, but she'd have to confront it soon.

“Good.” Silver was looking at her over his shoulder as he paused before getting in the car. “That's what I hoped when I—”

“I don't care what you hoped,” she said coldly. “And stay the hell out of my mind. You've worn out any welcome you might ever have had.”

He shrugged. “It was only a matter of time before that happened. It's not as if I wasn't expecting it.” He opened the car door. “I'll see you later.”

She had hurt him. She could sense the rawness of his pain as if it were her own. Jesus, she couldn't let him do this to her. She pushed him away, blocking him. That was better. She was stronger than she had thought. She had learned a great deal from him in the past days. Soon she might be entirely free of him. No closeness. No togetherness.

Wrenching pain. Terrible loneliness.

She'd get over it. This addictive intimacy was unhealthy, and Silver had proved he couldn't be trusted not to try to control her. Just because he'd done it because he thought it was in her best interests was no real excuse. He was in a position of power, and he'd misused that power.

She watched him back up and then head down the driveway. It was the first time in days that he'd left the estate without her. Was Trask out there waiting?

Trask would love to get rid of me too.

Why was she worrying when she'd determined she had to fight her way out of this bizarre relationship? Ledbruk's agents would follow Silver and guard him. Dammit, she would not watch him drive toward the gates. Block him out. Get on with life. Find a way to locate Trask.

She turned and went into the house to search for George.

George was on the telephone when Kerry went into the library, but he hung up almost immediately. “Yes?”

“What did you find out about Trask's Helen?”

His brows lifted. “It took you long enough to come and ask me about her.”

“I'm asking now. I was a little preoccupied with something else.”

“That was obvious. I hoped to take the heat off Brad, but evidently you weren't to be distracted.”

“No, but you can distract me now. What did you find out?”

“I believe the lady's full name was Helen Saduz.” George went through the pages in front of him on the desk. “Here it is.” He handed her a dossier. “Though there's every possibility that it was an assumed identity and she was in this country illegally.”

“Is that why no one could tell us who she was?”

He shook his head. “No one told us because no one wanted anyone to know what happened to her.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember that the report stated that Trask's lab was blown up by orders from the White House?”

She nodded.

“Well, she was in the lab.”

Kerry's eyes widened. “What?”

George gestured. “Boom. The lab went up and so did Helen Saduz.”

“How did that happen?”

“We think that Trask sent her to the lab to retrieve something he'd left behind.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “Papers, maybe a prototype of some kind . . . Anyway, she had the bad luck to be there when they blew the building.”

“But surely they'd have searched for anyone on the premises?”

“The building was sealed. There wasn't supposed to be anyone there. Any search would have been minimal.”

“How would she have even gotten in if the building was sealed?”

“Trask must have told her how to do it. He evidently had to have had a way of getting past security when he was stealing components and information from the other people on his team before he took off.”

She looked down at the photo on the sheet he'd given her. The woman was brunette, in her twenties with classic features. “She's beautiful.”

He nodded. “Absolutely. And memorable. Which was a break for us. Because there wasn't much to identify when they found her in the ashes. They could tell the age and sex by the skeleton, but the rest was guesswork. Or should I say legwork? None of his coworkers had seen Trask with her, but that wasn't unusual. He was a loner and didn't hobnob with any of them. The Service sent agents to backtrack to all Trask's favorite restaurants and found a few waiters who remembered her. They had an artist render a likeness from their descriptions and then sent it to the database. It came up with Helen Saduz.”

“Greek?” Kerry was reading the dossier. She stiffened. “And her father is Iranian?”

“Right. Trask was probably negotiating with Iran before the project was even completed. They sent Helen Saduz to clinch the deal. She was smart, well educated, and very accomplished at persuading men to do what she wanted. As you can see by her background, she was an agent who used sex to lure at least four scientists to come over to Iran's camp.”

She lifted her gaze from the page. “She succeeded in fooling Trask. He loved her. Maybe he thinks he has reason to go after everyone connected with blowing that lab.”

“Remember, he sent her there. He might not have known they were going to blow it up, but he knew he was putting her in danger.”

“That's true. But maybe she persuaded him to let her do it. It would be a way of drawing him closer to her.”

“Possibly. And of getting her hands on valuable information that could be photographed before it was turned over to Trask.”

“But why didn't the government want anyone to know she'd been killed in that building?”

“The CIA stepped in when they found out who she was. They're trying to link the Iranian government with the espionage. She was well known to them, and they smelled an opportunity. They didn't want anyone to know she was dead and persuaded the President to let them pull the records and take over her part of the investigation. They've been sending messages to her contact in Iran in hope of getting something concrete against the government.” He made a face. “That's why all the records about her were erased. No leaks.”

“Another ‘need to know' case? Good God, don't these agencies tell each other anything?”

“As little as possible. Even Homeland Security hasn't broken through all the bureaucratic bull.”

“But Trask isn't dealing with Iran now. You said he was negotiating with North Korea. Why?”

He shook his head. “Since you're on such good terms, why don't you ask him? He hasn't contacted you again?”

“No.” But she knew it was only a matter of time. She could feel him . . . hovering. “There hasn't been any sign of Dickens either?”

“You'd have been the first to know if Ledbruk had sighted him. No sign of anyone suspicious at Carmela's hospital. No one following you when you leave here every day.”

Then what was happening with Trask? Her every instinct told her he wouldn't have taken that defeat at the warehouse without retaliating.

“You're quite safe,” George said as he read her expression. “I made sure Ledbruk has assigned top-notch surveillance people to you. They're not going to slip up and let you get killed.”

“Like they did with Joyce Fairchild?”

He made a face. “Touché. But they're smart enough to learn from their mistakes.”

“I hope so.” She turned away. “Silver is on his way to pick up Rosa Ruiz.”

“Yes, he told me.”

“Did he? Well, I don't want anything to happen to her.” She started to turn away. “And I don't want anything to happen to Silver.”

“Even though you're pissed at him?”

“That doesn't matter.”

He sat back and his eyes narrowed on her face. “No, it wouldn't. You have a very strong relationship.”

There was something in his tone that made her turn back to face him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

He gazed at her innocently. “Why, did I strike a nerve?”

“If you did, it's because you meant to do it.”

“Discretion forbids me to suggest I could have merely been referring to the fact that you've been sleeping together.”

The bluntness of his words surprised her. She'd assumed he was aware that she and Silver were lovers, but he'd never mentioned it.

Why do it now, out of the blue? “That remark wasn't in the least discreet.” She studied him. “And out of character. Could it be that you wanted to throw a red herring into the mix?”

He chuckled. “Absolutely. I was quite enjoying my subtle innuendos, but I should have known you'd see through me and call my bluff.”

“Then show me your hand.”

He was still smiling as he leaned back in his chair. “I paid a visit to Georgetown University while you were in Marionville. It's an open secret on campus that the hydrostatics lab isn't what it seems. There are all kinds of rumors about the people who come and go from that building. Even a few interesting ones about CIA connections. So I came back and called my buddies at the CIA who owe me favors.”

“And?”

“It seems the CIA also owes Brad Silver a few favors for some rather unusual contributions. One might even say weird contributions.” He tilted his head. “And I asked myself, if Brad is some kind of psychic guru, what are you, Kerry?”