LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

CHAPTER EIGHT

      The long blond wig and heavy makeup transformed Lara. She stared in her bathroom mirror and tried to talk herself out of going, but it was no use.

      She needed to go, even though she knew it was dangerous, even forbidden. “Just be careful,” she whispered to her reflection. She whirled away and left the bathroom, eager to get on with it despite any misgivings.

      With a fake identification and matching credit card in her pocket and an empty briefcase in hand, she left her apartment. Jerry, the doorman, didn’t blink an eye. He knew she was an FBI agent, and he never asked questions. They did have an agreement that if anything strange happened concerning her apartment, then he was to contact her immediately.

      She headed toward the nearest subway and descended the stairs, her mind carefully schooled not to think. She didn’t even want to try to talk herself out of what she was going to do.

      She rode the subway until the second stop and then exited and went up to the street. From there she caught a bus, always vigilant for anyone who might be following her. She made no eye contact with anyone and had changed into a white blouse, a brown pair of slacks and a tweed coat. She looked like any other city businesswoman just trying to get ahead by working on the weekends.

      It had been speaking to Tina’s parents, seeing the photos of the child they had lost that had amped Lara for this secretive trip. She had to check...she had to make sure everything was okay.

      It was a drive she’d only made three times before, and nobody knew about her trips. As far as she was concerned, nobody ever had to know. She rode the bus for twenty minutes and then departed it and hailed a cab to LaGuardia Airport.

      Each time she’d made this trip she always varied her mode of transportation, either coming to LaGuardia or to Kennedy airport to rent a car. She hoped to make it virtually impossible for anyone to tail her.

      Once inside the airport it only took minutes for Ramona Wendall to rent a sedan and head out for the hour and a half drive to the small upstate town of Maywood, New York.

      These covert trips always balled a fist of anxiety in her stomach, and this afternoon the knot was particular tight as her head continued to fill with visions of Tina and thoughts of the conversation she’d shared with Nick.

      Nobody except for Victoria knew the true hell that she had gone through while undercover. The things she had seen, the things she had done, would haunt her for the rest of her life.

      Even though she had done the right thing, there was a piece of her that had been sacrificed in the process.

      She glanced in her rearview mirror often, but was certain that she hadn’t been followed. The farther she got from the city, the prettier the drive became. The road narrowed to two lanes, and dense stands of trees glowed red and gold and brilliant orange, their leaves dancing in a light breeze.

      Under different circumstances she might have found the drive relaxing, but there were few things or places in her life where she ever found true peace.

      Since the time of her mother’s murder her life had pretty much sucked. Not that she was the type to wallow in self-pity. Rather, the loss of her mother and the unsettling thoughts of wondering why she’d been murdered had created a burning anger inside Lara and had shaped the person she’d become.

      She’d taken her anger and transformed it into drive and ambition, into the desire to be the kind of FBI agent people respected. Lara’s mission was to get as many murderers and other criminals as possible locked away for as long as possible.

      Ultimately it had been the Moretti case that had really changed her. It had hardened her, and she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to fully trust anyone again. She was positive that the experience had made it impossible to go back to whoever she had been before going undercover.

      Her thoughts turned to Nick. She’d have to stay on her toes where he was concerned. She’d already told him far more about her life and about being undercover than she’d ever intended.

      He was way too easy to talk to, and he’d shared a piece of his own past tragedy with her in an obvious attempt to bond. She would only allow him to get so close, and then she’d shut it down. She had secrets that, if revealed, would not only destroy her professionally and personally, but would also endanger others. She simply couldn’t risk it.

      As she saw the sign indicating that she was about to enter the small town of Maywood, her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, and a new burst of anxiety again bubbled up inside her.

      With everything that had happened over the past couple of days, she just needed to assure herself that everything was still okay in Maywood.

      She took a right off Main Street and then traveled several blocks and took another right that placed her on a beautiful tree-lined street where the homes were modest but well-kept. The lowering sun cast the houses in warm golden shades.

      Her heart drummed a frantic rhythm as she drove down the first block and then halfway down the second. She pulled up to park across from a cheerful yellow house and expelled a pent-up shuddery sigh she hadn’t realized she was holding in. She unclenched her tightened fingers from the steering wheel and dropped them into her lap.

      They were outside. Lara could see that they were okay. Relief fluttered in her heart. The three of them sat on the porch swing, apparently enjoying the last minutes of the unusually warm fall day.

      David Minnow, an accountant, was dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans. His wife Faye’s short bobbed blond hair sparkled in the last of the sunshine, and in front of her in a Bjorn was seven-months-old little Emily.

      Faye was a stay-at-home mom who loved to make beaded jewelry and dote on both David and Emily. Together they all made a picture of the perfect family. They were the perfect family; both David and Faye were good people who loved little Emily...thank God they were all safe.

      Emily wiggled and danced in her confinement, and both David and Faye were laughing. Lara hit the button to lower her passenger window just enough that she could hear their laughter.

      The sweet, joyful sound welled emotions so overwhelming that Lara’s eyes momentarily misted with tears. She stabbed the button to raise the window and put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb before she might draw any unwanted attention.

      Why did she put herself through this? Why did she torture herself? She swiped angrily at an errant tear that had the audacity to escape her eye. She never cried. She never allowed herself the release.

      They were safe and happy, and there was no reason for her to make this drive to assure her of that fact. They were doing just fine and didn’t need her checking up on them.

      You can’t come here again. Besides the fact that it’s a risk, you can’t put yourself through this anymore. The words echoed in her mind as she headed back to New York City.

      This would definitely be the last trip she made to the small town of Maywood, she promised herself as she swiped yet another unwanted tear away.

      * * *

      At seven o’clock on Monday morning everyone was gathered around the conference table. Lara felt ragged and weary. She hadn’t gotten home from upstate until after ten, and then she hadn’t been able to sleep.

      Residual emotions had raged through her until she’d finally resorted to sitting at her computer. The final autopsy report on Lara Bowman had been emailed to all of the team members by Victoria, and Lara had taken several hours reading the findings and looking at the diagrams, but finding nothing new to what they already knew from the preliminary report.

      She’d spent time staring at her darkened ceiling and trying to figure out what had happened to any phone Dunst might have had. The person in the SUV had to have contacted Dunst, in order for him to come out of his room and down to the street. Unless smoke signals had been used, there had to be a burner phone somewhere, but where?

      It

Скачать книгу