Damned If You Don't (16 page)

But he did believe in truth. And when someone screwed with him, they got Jack. And justice.

So what you just did to her was right? Didn’t you do to her what Sam did to you?

Jack closed his eyes and tried hard to fire up his brain. Because beating himself up about it wasn’t going to fix the situation. Finding a murderer would.

This whole mess hadn’t been easy to figure out—especially while he tried to play both ends against the middle. On the one side, Jack was fairly certain that BioClin didn’t know what was on Morgan’s computer or her data stick. They wanted their property back so they could get their hands on their investment capital. The most logical way to do that was to hire a private investigator. After all, they figured the data stick was theirs to begin with.

What they didn’t know about was the additional data in their computer. What they didn’t know was that someone had taken a process that didn’t work—yet, he said to himself with a small grin—and turned it into a murder weapon. Why?

Two possibilities. One, someone had decided to play Frankenstein and use human subjects to see if the formula worked. Or two, someone was a sick, psycho, serial killer.

Neither option made Jack feel warm and fuzzy inside.

So he asked himself the next why. Money. This someone had wanted to see if the process worked in order to sell it.

So who was this someone?

Every time he asked that question he came up with one answer: someone at BioClin, someone within their organization.

More than one person? Possibly. Jack’s guess was the person who created the data and killed that poor woman Morgan described tonight was trying to keep the truth from the company while pretending to act in the company’s best interests.

So it was up to Jack, now, to protect Morgan and clear her name. Because she wasn’t a geek, and he’d never met anyone smarter or braver or more beautiful.

She doesn’t want you to save her.

Yeah, and at the moment it didn’t really matter. He’d screwed up royally. Again. And he would never be able to make amends. But he could try.

Because he cared.

And though his first idea of getting things out in the open seemed like a really good idea at the time, this discovery changed everything. He hurt her—again. Not his very best move.

He’d also brought them right to the brink of disaster. Not his second very best move. So what he needed now was time—time to find out who was really behind all of this and time to try to make things right with her.

He listened to her turn over. Then she tossed and turned over again. His stomach hollowed, and he wondered if it would stay that way forever.

“I thought you were asleep,” he said as she leaned back against the headboard.

“I can’t. Too many nightmares.”

He drew in a deep breath and let the air out slowly. “Can’t say I blame you. I want you to know I’m not real fond of myself at the moment.”

She didn’t say anything for a long time. “How many more people are dead, Jack?” she asked, her voice flat and weary.

“Does it really matter at this point? All you’re going to do is beat yourself up about it. You need to realize you’re not responsible for someone else’s actions.”

She sighed. “You’re right. Learning to live with what’s happened is going to be tough. But not nearly as tough as keeping me away from whoever did this once we find him. Or her.”

Jack laughed softly. He had personal experience with her ire. And fingerprints on his cheek to prove it. “I may just let you go on that one, you know.”

She wiped at her face with her hands, and Jack wondered if she was crying. He couldn’t see in the semidarkness of the room, but his insides clenched at the thought. And that made him even more determined to make things right between them. The best he could do now was what he did best: track a culprit down and turn them in. So he cleared his throat and began talking out loud.

“Someone stole your data and copied your notebook to do what they did. Then they hired Sam because Sam is very expensive but very secure. I’m also guessing they assigned someone or asked for someone to handle the situation. I believe that person—or persons we don’t know which—is also the murderer. So now there are two big questions in all of this. The first is whether or not Sam knows what we know. For the sake of a friendship born under fire, I’m going to bet he doesn’t. That makes him stupid and greedy but not an accomplice to murder. The second is, who else at BioClin knows what’s going on. Because they’re the people we’re after.”

“What about your friend? What about the FBI? Don’t you need to contact him and let him sort this out?”

He shook his head, amazed that she still wanted to do the right thing in spite of the consequences. “No. The first person they’re going to throw in jail is you. You wiped BioClin’s files and ran. If that doesn’t make you look guilty, I don’t know what does.”

Jack realized she’d already figured out her predicament. “Then take the data stick,” she told him. “I offered it to you once before. Give the FBI the data stick and let them catch the killer.”

Jack smiled to himself. He wished he had one ounce of Morgan’s integrity. “I can’t. I’d rather use it to prove your innocence once we catch the bastard who’s done this.”

“How kind of you.”

Her words held no rancor, just weariness. He closed his eyes, wondering if they’d ever get beyond the past. “Hey, I certainly deserve everything you might decide to dish. But that’s not going to solve any of our problems right now.”

“
Our
problems? What do you mean?”

“That there are a few things you need to understand.”

“Like what?”

At least she was listening. “There’s a flaw inherent in your logic. I’m an accomplice now. I can’t help find the truth if
I’m
in a jail cell.”

“Makes sense.”

Jack took a deep breath, letting the air out slowly. He hated listening to her monotone. However, it seemed like a step in the right direction. “Look, I can’t trust Ian to help me sort this all out. He’s a by-the-book kind of guy. He’ll follow his book first and figure it all out later. So we’ve got to do this on our own for a while.”

She didn’t answer right away. Then she asked, “We, Jack? Our? Do you really mean that?”

“With all my heart.”

“Seriously? I mean, all you’d have to do is tell your boss I seduced you, and that you couldn’t help yourself.”

Ouch!
“That’s true, I could. But I really am trying to help you.”

“Why, Jack? Tell me. I need to know. I have to understand. Because yesterday you were willing to hand me over without batting an eyelash.”

“Not true. Never true. Remember the Purple Martin? Our first night together? The night we crashed the wedding? Well, I figured that out as I sat waiting for you to sneak out and leave me the next morning.”

“What?”

“Isn’t it kind of obvious? Two words: I care.” He didn’t dare let hope grow and yet a tiny seed planted and he couldn’t stop it from taking root.

“Yeah, right.”

“The word is called integrity. You’ve got a boatload of it. From trying to protect me by sneaking out of the Purple Martin to trying to protect me in the parking lot in Delaware, to trying to protect me now by giving me the data stick.”

“What do you mean?”

“That all you’ve ever tried to do is the right thing. No matter what you’ve faced. And all I know is that you’re in the middle of a situation you didn’t create.”

“Yes, I did. This is all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t,” he continued. “But right now, I can’t even imagine how you feel. I know you never meant for your discovery to become a weapon of destruction. I also know you never meant for these last couple of days that were so right, so beautiful, to become so wrong. But they did. And that’s my fault.”

At least she was listening now. “Don’t let my bad taint your memories,” he begged. “That’s all I ask. When all of this is done, hate me if you have to.”

“I don’t hate you.”

She was saying that but did she really believe it? “Maybe. Just don’t hate what we shared.”

“Even though it was a lie?”

Damn, that hurt but she had a point. “I guess that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Out of this entire fiasco, this mess I’ve created, you were the one reality. What we shared was real, Morgan. And you know it. If you look deep inside yourself, you’ll see.”

She didn’t reply. Because she was thinking? Because she was crying? All of the above? The silence nearly drove him mad.

He sighed figuring he’d already lost the battle. “Right now I’m in the middle of Hotel California with no way out.” She still didn’t answer, but there was a war to win here. And that meant pounding away at the beach until it was safe to land. “But there’s a way to build a door if you’re willing to work with me.”

Would her fragile psyche allow it? He needed her cooperation. Maybe the forgiveness, at this point, was just a fairy tale. Then again maybe it wasn’t.

“All right.”

The black hole that had formed deep inside shrank a little. “Good. Then we need a game plan.”

“Do you have one?”

“At the moment? No. My first priority was to figure out how to get some sleep. That meant trying to make you understand that I never meant to hurt you.”

She laughed softly. “Jury’s still out on that, but I’m working on it.”

“Morgan, I really do need to sleep. And I won’t be able to do that unless you make one last promise.”

“What’s that?”

“Not to run. Because, that’s your last option. And it would get me into a lot of trouble.”

There was that wonderful nonanswer again. Jack really was going to have to have a talk with the guy who said that silence was golden.

“As tempting as the thought is,” she began. “I’m not stupid, and I’m not crazy. So as much as I would like to watch you squirm, I have no intention of going to jail for something I didn’t do. Besides, I rather like the idea that you work for me now.”

Jack didn’t dare groan at the relish in her tone. “You didn’t promise,” he reminded her.

She huffed out an indignant breath. “I didn’t do a lot of things I should have. Like walk away from you in Cape May.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

She didn’t answer and Jack figured he’d have to live with that. For now.

Chapter Fifteen

Sam Ormond sat at his desk, drumming his fingers on the polished wood, waiting for the phone to ring. He didn’t consider himself a man to be trifled with, yet now he was caught in a situation spiraling downhill at an alarming rate. What he was about to do came very close to the hairy edge of his personal limits, and he wasn’t happy about that at all.

The phone chimed, and Sam jumped in surprise. His heartbeat soared through his chest and he took a deep, calming breath before answering.

“Ormond.”

“To what do I owe this…displeasure this late in the evening, Mr. Ormond?”

Snide little creep.

Sam wondered if there were enough zeroes in the world for this kind of abuse. “I think Jack Kent and your precious Dr. Mackenzie are headed for the Boston area. If they’re not here already.”

“Think, Mr. Ormond? Do you even know?”

Sam inhaled sharply. “Look. Jack is one of the best tracers in the business. He’s going to go after BioClin.”

A long silence told Sam what his “employer” thought about that statement. “That would not be wise.”

Sam clenched his jaw, feeling the muscle in his cheek twitch. What he wouldn’t give for five minutes in a sparring ring with this A-hole. “I think he’s in Boston and he’s getting ready to go to the police.”

“There goes that word again, Mr. Ormond.”

“Yeah, well, Jack is ex-Ranger. You don’t want to be messing with him.”

“Or you?”

Sam ignored the obvious answer. “You can take what I say, or you can leave it. At this point I really don’t care what you believe. I just thought you should know.”

A snort came through the phone, and Sam read it for what it was, all shades of displeasure mingled with a hint of disbelief.

“Some of us take the time to plan, Mr. Ormond. We
think
. You do understand that word, don’t you? It’s the word that’s going to keep you out of jail.”

With his insides turning to shards of ice, Sam blanched. He snapped his chair upright and tightened his fist around his telephone receiver. “Jail? I’m not going to jail. Not for you, or for anything, you got that?”

The laughter in response to his words sent those icicles deep into the pit of his stomach. He nearly doubled over in pain. “So sorry to disappoint you, Sam. You see, you really are involved.”

“Oh yeah?” All right, his client was a fruitcake. The sooner he cut his losses, the better.

“Take a look inside your upper right-hand drawer.”

Sam frowned and threw the drawer opened with shaking fingers. His gun was gone. “You should know better than to leave your things simply lying around, Sam.”

A cold wash of dread seeped into his bones. “What are you talking about?”

“Your gun, Sam. Your revolver.”

“What about my gun?” he asked, not really wanting to know.

“It really is a shame.” The sigh that accompanied the words bore not one hint of remorse. “It seems to have discharged itself.”

“What? Where?” he bit out, not wanting to know.

“You have to understand. The end result was a merciful act. Believe me.”

Oh God, someone’s been murdered with my gun.

“Now, I want you to listen and listen very carefully,” his client said. “This item shall remain lost forever if you decide to continue our relationship. After all, business is business. Otherwise it will manage to find its way to the police, I’m sorry to say.”

Sam listened to the pointed laughter coming through the phone knowing that if he ever got his hands on this lunatic face-to-face, more than one person was going to have pull him off.

“How do you know I’m not recording this entire conversation?”

“Because your recording device was removed from your phone when your gun was removed from your drawer.”

Sam’s insides hit the floor in seconds. He was tempted to look but realized all of a sudden that the person he was dealing with wasn’t bluffing. Or stupid. Insane maybe. But not stupid. “I’m listening.”