John Doe on Her Doorstep. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ isn’t good enough.” The accusation was a savage growl. “You find that file or we’re both dead. You don’t make deals like this and then drag your feet. They won’t wait much longer.”

      They. If Center didn’t kill him, they probably would.

      “I’ll find it.” It was all he could think to say. It was what he had to do. He didn’t need reminding.

      “Call me the instant you find it.”

      “I will.”

      “And don’t forget, I want all loose ends tied up. She is your problem. Do what you have to.”

      “I understand.”

      He hung up the phone and closed his eyes. Dear God, what had he done? His eyes opened and he squared his shoulders as reality seared through him. He’d done what he had to.

      He swallowed back the vile taste of self-loathing.

      And he’d do it again.

      Whatever the cost.

      Chapter Three

      Ghost Mountain

       Center

      O’Riley looked up from his desk. Dupree stood in his doorway. A surge of adrenaline disrupted the calm rhythm of his heart. “You have something?” If it was another reason they should assume Adam was dead, O’Riley might just snatch the Colt .45 from his middle desk drawer and shoot the depressingly anal-retentive pencil pusher right where he stood.

      Dupree flipped through the pages of the status report in his hand as if he needed to quickly review what he was about to say. O’Riley wasn’t going to like it, otherwise Dupree wouldn’t be stalling.

      “The rental car has been recovered.”

      Damn. “And?”

      “The guy who stole it says it was a simple robbery. He and his friends set it up to look as if a woman with a small child had had engine trouble. Apparently they’ve done this on that particular stretch of road before. The local authorities have been trying to catch them for months.” Dupree swallowed hard. “Anyway, a man matching Adam’s description stopped to see if he could help and they overtook him.”

      O’Riley lifted a skeptical brow. “Overtook him?” That was highly unlikely. Enforcers had heightened senses; they weren’t easily overtaken.

      “The two men had guns,” Dupree hastened to explain.

      A bad feeling welled in O’Riley’s chest. “Did they kill him?”

      Dupree shrugged. “We don’t know for certain. Apparently, they worked him over pretty good with a tire iron and left him for dead in a ravine. Recon is already on their way to the site. We should know something within the hour.”

      “Keep me posted,” O’Riley said by way of dismissal.

      Dupree offered a curt nod and took his leave.

      Fury whipped through O’Riley. Every instinct told him that Adam was alive. He glanced at the digital clock on his desk, the one his ex-wife had given him for a divorce present. She’d said it was to remind him of what he’d given up by spending all his time at work. He wondered if anyone would ever know just how much he’d sacrificed. O’Riley leaned back in his chair and banished thoughts of the woman he’d loved and lost. He missed her, that was true enough. But this was his life. She hadn’t understood that simple fact. He doubted anyone other than the people involved with Center would ever understand. But on days like this he wondered…

      He shook off the foolish sentiment—5:05 p.m. He would have an update on Adam in the next sixty minutes. Between now and then, he had another matter to follow up on—the search for Joseph Marsh, Center’s other traitor in all this. Wherever that son of a bitch was, O’Riley wanted him found and executed, after a proper interrogation, of course. Although it had taken someone close to Archer on a personal level to achieve the ultimate goal, O’Riley had a feeling that responsibility for Daniel Archer’s death lay squarely on Marsh’s shoulders. Why else would Marsh disappear so abruptly?

      If Adam were dead, considering what they had so far, they couldn’t connect that to Marsh. Still, O’Riley had every intention of seeing that he paid dearly for whatever he had done.

      All O’Riley had to do was find him.

      Virginia

       Archer Ranch

      BY DARK that evening, Dani had accomplished more than she had in the past twelve days. Her father’s personal belongings were now packed in cedar-lined boxes and stored in his room.

      She’d tried to start organizing things the day after he was buried, but she hadn’t gotten very far. Fierce emotions would keep her from returning to the task for days at a time. Now, it was finally finished. All that her father had been was now carefully stored away for safekeeping. She couldn’t bring herself to donate his clothing. Though he’d had elegant taste and there were surely people who could benefit from his wardrobe, she just couldn’t part with anything yet. As long as his things were here, it was as if he might somehow walk through the front door again. As if a part of him remained.

      Dani stood in the middle of his study now and wondered if she could handle doing any part of this room today. The last time she’d tried, a couple of days ago, she’d ended up on a crying jag that lasted for hours. Firming her resolve, she surveyed the room. She couldn’t fathom any reason to disturb his books. Rich wood shelving lined three walls, leaving room only for the door, while windows that looked out over the grazing pastures, the big red barn right off the pages of a New England calendar and the evergreen mountains beyond lined the fourth. Everything was just as he’d left it.

      The books, plaques and awards would stay as they were, she decided. She stared morosely at his antique mahogany desk and the framed photograph that held a place of honor there. She didn’t have to pick it up and look at it. She knew it well. It was the last picture taken of her mother. Dani had been ten. They’d gone fishing and she’d caught her first fish. Two days later, her mother was dead.

      Fighting back the tears, Dani forced her attention back to the problem at hand. Sorting through his office. She would leave most everything, just not the files. Especially this file. She stared at the odd little electronic storage stick in her hand, still confused by what it contained. She’d never known him to use this sort of storage. The stick was about two inches long and looked like the ones used in digital cameras, which, when inserted into the right plug in one’s computer, held the downloaded images captured by the camera. Most of his files were stored on the usual disks and CDs and locked away safely in the basement. He’d ensured that his personal research files from his life’s work were properly safeguarded when he retired. Order had been her father’s middle name. Everything had its place. But this one file…it just didn’t make sense—in more ways than one.

      After skirting the large desk, she settled into the soft leather chair and loaded it onto the computer. She’d retrieved it from its original hiding place and brought it into the office with her now to decide what to do with it. She scrolled through a couple of screens that were labeled the Eugenics Project. Like the ones in the basement vault it was encrypted and dated. But unlike the others, which corresponded with the early years of his career, the date on this one was recent. Why would СКАЧАТЬ