Mysterious Circumstances. Rita Herron

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СКАЧАТЬ jerked around, shocked to see a man enter and move into the shadows. Her nerves on edge, she searched his face for recognition, but he wore a surgical suit and mask. The only visible part of his body—his eyes.

      They stared at her with a coldness that sent a chill down her spine.

      “Who are you?” she asked.

      “That doesn’t matter,” he said in a low voice. “But I can’t let you leave here, Dr. Thornbird.”

      The low timbre of his tone made her stomach clench. She reached for her purse, but the man vaulted forward, knocked it from her hand, then manacled her wrist. When she saw the hypodermic in his hand, her blood turned to ice.

      He lifted the needle so the tip glinted in front of her face. “You know what’s in here, don’t you?”

      A sob caught in her throat. She not only knew, but she’d witnessed the deadly results of its effects. The bodies she’d been studying. The horrible way the people had suffered. The inevitable death.

      Her heart pounding, she kicked out at him and ran, but he caught her, jabbed the needle into her neck, and held her until a chilling ache seeped through her. Her throat closed. Her body convulsed. The horrible panic of knowing what came next sliced through her.

      She slumped to the floor like a rag doll as he released her.

      Her little girl’s face appeared in her mind’s eye. Sweet, precious Olivia. That beautiful angelic blond hair. Those baby-blue eyes.

      She’d talked to her husband earlier. Olivia was making posters, decorating the house for her homecoming. She’d been marking the days on the calendar until she returned. Had planned a surprise party with homemade chocolate chip cookies. Her husband was even taking the day off so they could all be together.

      A tear rolled down her cheek, but she was helpless to wipe it away. Then she closed her eyes, welcoming the numbness. Regrets surfaced. She would never see her husband or baby girl again. Never hold them or kiss them good-night.

      And no one would ever know the reason she’d died.

      Chapter One

      Fifteen years later

      Olivia would find out the truth about the Savannah Suicides—even if it killed her. The local police and FBI couldn’t just bury the story, hide the details from the public and get away with it.

      Not like they had when her mother had died.

      Bitterness threatened to rob her calm, but she stifled it. The only way to keep the world safe was to inform the people of potential dangers.

      She swung her leather shoulder bag over her arm and marched toward the building that housed her father’s office at CIRP, Coastal Island Research Park. She’d sensed he was keeping something from her the last few weeks. He’d been acting oddly secretive, distracted, had even sounded paranoid.

      He’d even made some strange remarks about her mother’s death and a cover-up, which he’d never spoken of before. And she thought he was working with the feds on the suicide cases.

      She’d noticed an odd rash on two of the victims’ bodies at the crime scene and had spotted that federal agent, Craig Horn, leaving her father’s office at least twice. She’d finally put two and two together. But when she’d contacted Agent Horn, he’d refused her calls. She’d tried to deal with the infuriating man before.

      But Horn was cold. Calculating. An agent single-minded in his mission. A man with no feelings.

      Her cell phone jolted out the programmed melody, and she answered it as she climbed into her Toyota. “Olivia Thornbird.”

      “Miss Thornbird, this is Special Agent Craig Horn of the FBI.”

      Olivia’s eyebrows shot up. So, the sexy, enigmatic agent had finally decided to make her an ally. “I’m glad you called, Agent Horn. Are you ready to talk to me?”

      A hesitant pause fraught with tension followed. “Miss Thornbird, I think you’d better get over to your father’s house. He’s barricaded himself inside.”

      “What?” Olivia’s heart raced.

      “I hate to tell you this,” Agent Horn said in a decidedly low voice, “but you should hurry. He has a gun, and he’s threatening to kill himself.”

      CRAIG DISCONNECTED the call, his hands sweating as he skimmed the overgrown yard surrounding Thornbird’s small brick ranch. The sagging boards on the front porch attested to the house’s age, the chipped paint, shutters hanging askew and dead plants evidence of lack of upkeep. Thornbird had first impressed him as a genius, scatterbrained scientist who related more to test tubes and vials than humans. He supposed it followed that he’d neglect his home for work, but this lack of long-term care indicated depression.

      After meeting with Thornbird a few times, he guessed he and his daughter weren’t close. The realization that Olivia’s family had been just as screwed up as his own had spiked his curiosity about the woman and her drive. He actually admired her ambition.

      If she wasn’t a damn reporter, he might even like her.

      And he sure as hell had to admit she was a looker.

      But he’d never trust her.

      The hushed murmurs of police officers communicating via radio jolted him back to reality. Several local police were situated at various strategic points around Thornbird’s property, each armed and ready to bring this ordeal to a peaceful resolution. Others had cordoned off the property to contain neighbors, curious spectators and reporters.

      Unfortunately, so far, Thornbird wasn’t responding to their negotiation tactics. But at least he hadn’t opened fire again like he had at Horn when he’d first arrived.

      Craig raised the bullhorn one more time in an effort to defuse the increasingly catastrophic situation inside. “Dr. Thornbird, it’s Craig Horn again. Please, sir, put down the gun, and let’s talk.”

      “Go away, you communists! Leave me alone!” Thornbird shouted. “You’re all just pagans wanting to steal the life from me and all the innocent people in this town.”

      “No, Dr. Thornbird. We’ve been working together, remember?”

      The window suddenly shattered and the lights flickered off. Two cops raised their guns as if to fire, but Craig motioned for them to hold off.

      “What’s the story?” New arrivals to the scene, local cops Detective Adam Black and his partner, Clayton Fox, strode up and hunkered down beside him.

      Craig filled them in. “Thornbird, the research scientist who’s been studying the rash on our suicide vics, is holed up inside, threatening to kill himself.”

      “He find out anything about the rash?” Black asked.

      “He thinks it’s symptomatic of a virus, but he hadn’t yet isolated the strain or determined its cause.” Horn frowned as a breeze stirred the nearly dead leaves of the fern hanging from the front porch awning. “The last two weeks, he’s been working day and night. I thought he might be on to something.”

      Fox СКАЧАТЬ