Killer Harvest. Tanya Stowe

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СКАЧАТЬ a chuckle, slipped out.

      Sassa turned to him. “Are you laughing at my beliefs?”

      “No. I’m laughing at myself really. Do you know where I was when Sam called? I was in Los Angeles trying to convince my wife that we needed to give our marriage one more chance.”

      Sassa studied him for a long, silent moment. “Did it work?”

      He gave his head a shake. “Just before we went into divorce court, her new boyfriend assured me there was nothing sacred about our vows...at least not for her.”

      “I’m sorry. That must have hurt.”

      She was quiet for a while. “I always felt that if Erik knew God, we would have had a better chance. But you can’t force someone to see God...even if He’s standing right in front of them.”

      “It would be better if He made Himself easier to see.”

      “It’s not supposed to be easy. It’s something we have to work toward.”

      “Is that why Sam’s dead? To make life unbearably hard for you and me?”

      Her lips parted then hardened as she faced forward, her eyes back on the road.

      They drove for miles in silence.

      Jared called himself several choice names. In her eyes, he’d just placed himself firmly in the camp of “those who can’t see God.” He couldn’t afford to be there. He and this woman needed to be united. To stand together.

      He shook his head. “We don’t have time for this.”

      “For what?”

      “Airing our different beliefs or indulging our...insecurities. Out of all the people in the world, Sam chose you and me to be his friends. He put his faith in us. We need to rally, to work together to save his legacy and maybe life as we know it. If the Black Knights release the virus, it will destroy crops around the world. Economies will collapse. People will starve. It will be a disaster.”

      “What can I do? You heard your boss, Kopack. I’m practically a suspect in Sam’s murder.”

      Jared shook his head. “First, Kopack is not my boss. He’s FBI, and he was just doing his job, which is to find the people who murdered Sam and stop them. Now we have to do our job.”

      She took a deep breath before asking, “And what exactly is our job?”

      “I’m a border patrol officer. My job is to stop bio-terrorism. You’re a scientist. Your job is to find the problems and solve them.”

      “What do you mean?”

      He glanced at her quickly. “Kopack is focused on finding the Black Knights and stopping them. He might not succeed. Then what happens?”

      “They create the virus and release it.”

      “And it’s our job to stop that from happening.”

      He saw her jerk before turning to stare at him. “You want me to find a cure for the virus.”

      He nodded. “Let Kopack find Chekhov and the Black Knights. You and I need to work on the cure. Sam started the job and I have access to his notes on our server.”

      “If you have the formula, you can put the best biologists on it. You don’t need me.”

      He shook his head. “Yes, we do. After the breach to the computer system, Sam never trusted it. He refused to put the complete formula on our system.”

      “Then where did he put it?”

      “We assumed he put all his final findings on a private computer, one he didn’t hook up to the internet...ever.”

      “That’s why Chekhov marched in and stole his computer bag. The formula is on that computer. But how did he know? If Sam was so careful, how did Chekhov know the formula was completed?”

      “As far as I can tell, Chekhov didn’t know Sam had completed the formula. I’m not sure he even knew Sam was working with us. I think Chekhov decided that Sam’s trip to China was the perfect time to snatch June and then blackmail her husband into completing the virus. Once he kidnapped her and Sam alerted us, the FBI and Homeland Security came into the investigation. Information shot across multiple networks. That’s where we made our mistake. Until then, I don’t think the Black Knights realized Sam had the formula. Once they did, they changed plans rapidly and devised a way to snatch it.”

      Sassa gave a little gasp. “June’s dead, too, isn’t she?”

      “Kopack ordered a search warrant of their house as soon as he found out June was missing. Everything was in order. No broken furniture or anything else to indicate a struggle. We shouldn’t assume she’s dead.”

      Sassa eased back in her seat with a shudder. “The Black Knights have no reason to keep her alive if they have the formula and Sam is dead.”

      Miles and miles passed in silence. At last, Jared said, “You’re the closest person to Sam’s work. Now that it’s in the hands of those maniacs, you’re the only link we have to recreate it. You have to try.”

      He glanced over and met her wide, blue-eyed gaze. “Sam had faith in you. So do I.”

      Her lips parted in surprise. He kind of liked the look...a lot. The last thing he needed right now was to be distracted by pretty lips. He steeled his resolve and focused on the road ahead.

      What he needed was to find a way to convince her he was right. To get her to agree—and that meant bridging the gap between them...the one he’d created.

      They traveled the last few miles in silence before the Kingsburg water tower, quaintly formed in the shape of an antique Swedish coffee pot, came into view. It reminded him of Kingsburg’s heritage...and Sassa’s name.

      “Your name...is it Swedish?”

      She nodded but her voice was pitched low. “My family comes from a long line of Swedish settlers here in the valley.”

      “Sassa... It’s very different. What does it mean?”

      “It’s a nickname really...for Astrid. But my mom likes it just the way it is.”

      “So do I. It suits you.”

      She made no response.

       Well, that went well.

      Ignoring the small frown that wreathed her features, he pulled off the freeway. They passed through the small town. The main street boasted a ton of Swedish motifs. Peaked roofs. Signs with Swedish names in curly, blue, geometric patterns. Bakeries offering delectable, unpronounceable delights. They drove past houses and stores into a predominantly agricultural area. Miles and miles of vineyards were broken only by orchards of pale peaches, plump apricots and bright oranges, leftovers from the summer season. Just enough fruit left from the harvest made the colors stand out against the dark bark and green leaves. A beautiful sight—and a stark reminder of what would be lost if the formula was developed.

      They СКАЧАТЬ