Out of Reach: A Novel (14 page)

She hardly had time to assimilate the information before they arrived at General William Neville’s side. “Oh, General, we’ve been looking for you,” Sebastian said.

Neville was surrounded by a group of men, and Sebastian was once again the silly man she’d grown fond of. “There’s someone here you just have to meet.” He released Erin’s arm. “This is Dr. Erin Baker, she teaches at Georgetown. An expert, I hear, on international relations. Just your type of thing.”

Neville smiled, though it was one of the coldest Erin had ever seen, and extended his hand. “We’ve met.”

Erin took his offered hand. “I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“How could I forget such a lovely woman?” His compliment held no warmth.

“I’m sure you’re surrounded by women of all sorts, General.”

He shrugged, the flattery not affecting him, then turned to the other men and said, “We’ll talk later.”

Sebastian took the hint to move off, too. “Well, you two get acquainted,” he said. “I’ll be around if you need me.”

Once they were alone, Neville said, “So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Ms. Baker? Surely you didn’t get that buffoon Cole to make introductions just to flatter me.”

“I have no intention of doing that, General.” She hesitated, considering her strategy, then decided to follow Sebastian’s advice and take the direct route. A man like Neville, who’d built a business empire on the ruins of a dwindling family fortune, would possess a certain amount of arrogance. He probably believed himself above the law. If she could play on that, she might learn something. “I wanted to talk to you about another matter entirely.”

“Which is?”

“I was doing some research a while back and came upon some interesting information about you.”

“Really?” His look remained polite.

“It was by accident, actually. My area of study is Middle Eastern cultures, and I was looking into imports and exports from Saudi Arabia.” She watched for a reaction, even something as small as a shift in his eyes, and saw none.

Again, she questioned her strategy. If they were wrong about Neville, or even if they were right, this could be a mistake. Confronting him was a gamble, putting Donovan’s investigation at risk. So if she was going to back off, now was the time. One more sentence, and it would be too late.

On the other hand, they needed to know if Neville was involved with Cody’s disappearance, and at the moment, they had only a loose connection to a slave ship and the Magician, and a lot of circumstantial evidence linking him to slave markets around the world. She had to risk it. Because until they were certain, they were wasting time looking at Neville.

“I came across a ship confiscated by the U.S. government,” she said. “About three years ago.” She waited a moment before continuing, as if giving him time to remember.
“
The
Desert Sun.”

He didn’t even blink. “You are telling me this because?”

“The ship belonged to one of your companies.”

“Oh, I see.” He glanced around the room, as if losing interest and watching for someone more engaging. “I have many companies, Dr. Baker.”

He was good, carefully controlled and not easily rattled. Too controlled, maybe. As if he had something to hide.

She pushed a little harder. “The
Desert Sun
was transporting kidnapped children from the U.S. to Saudi Arabia.” She paused, to give her next words weight. “It was a slave ship, General.”

He sighed and turned back to her, a spark of something in his eyes. Anger? Or just annoyance at an unpleasant conversational partner? “And you, being an outraged American, want to know if I had anything to do with it.”

“I’ll admit, that was my first question.” Erin sipped at her now-warm champagne, taking her time, attempting to unnerve him a bit. He was, she could tell, an impatient man. “So I did a little further research and found the FBI asked you the same question.”

“And no doubt you discovered they determined I had nothing to do with that ship’s dealings. The captain was operating completely on his own.”

“Actually, I don’t believe that’s what happened at all.” Another nudge. Dangerous. But necessary. “I think they just couldn’t prove your involvement.”

“I’m not quite sure what you’re getting at, Ms. Baker.” She saw the anger then, hard and cold in his eyes. “Are you a policeman, then?”

She shrugged. “I wanted to hear your side of the story.”

“Well, now you have.” He turned as if to move away. “Excuse me.”

“Are you so anxious to get away from me, General?” She couldn’t let him escape. Not yet. She was more convinced than ever that he was no innocent. Yet he still hadn’t told her anything she could use, and she needed that.
They
needed something to go on.

“Not anxious, just bored.”

“Or guilty.”

He turned back to her slowly, then moved in close, his presence suddenly menacing. “I have to wonder why you are approaching me about this. You must realize that if I was involved with this . . . slave ship . . . as you call it, that initiating this conversation would be a very dangerous strategy on your part.”

She met his cold stare. He didn’t frighten her. Or so she told herself. “Is that a threat?”

“I never make threats, Ms. Baker. Besides”—he stepped back, putting space between them again—“I was not involved, so there is nothing to fear.”

She shook her head. “You see, that’s the problem. I don’t believe you, General.” Innocent men didn’t make veiled threats. “I don’t think there’s anything that goes on in that particular company without your knowledge.”

“Well, Ms. Baker—”

“It’s Dr. Baker,” she corrected.

He snorted and shook his head. “You know, one thing I find particularly unpleasant about you Americans is your tendency to overeducate your women.”

She crossed her arms. “And that’s a problem?”

“I think other cultures have a better hold on it. Women belong at home, raising our children.”

He was attempting to turn the tables on her, rile her as she’d done him. Not a bad strategy, but it wasn’t going to work. “Would you prefer we wore veils and acquiesced to regular beatings as well?”

His expression darkened again. “You are meddling in things that are not your concern.”

“Who said anything about meddling? I was simply going through some old documents.”

“Good evening, Ms. Baker.”

She had one final card to play, a risky one. One that could lead them to Cody Sanders. Or cost him his life. But unless she played it, the boy would be dead anyway. “Tell me one more thing, General.”

He stopped, caught by her despite himself, but didn’t turn.

She moved up closer, where she could speak without being overheard, and stepped off the edge. “Where are you keeping Cody Sanders?”

XVIII

R
YAN PLACED HIS HAND
over the sleeping boy’s mouth.

Cody’s eyes flew open, filled with alarm.

“It’s me,” Ryan whispered. “We’re gonna get out of here. Tonight.”

Cody’s brow furrowed.

“I’m going to take away my hand now. You need to be very quiet.”

Cody nodded, and Ryan released him.

“I thought you wanted to wait a day or two,” Cody said. “Until you felt better.”

“I changed my mind.” Tonight was their chance. If they waited, who knew if they’d get another. “The General left this afternoon, and there’s no telling when he’ll be back.”

“But you’re in pretty bad shape. Will you be okay?”

Ryan wasn’t used to someone worrying about him, and his response came out harsher than he’d intended. “I’ll make it. Besides, if we don’t get out of here now, they’ll send you away, and you’ll end up somewhere far worse than here.”
And I’ll be dead
.

“Where? Where will they send me?”

“Don’t know for sure, but I promise they won’t speak much English there.”

The boy shivered, the first sign of real fear Ryan had ever seen from him. “What do they want with me?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. Now, are you coming or not?”

Cody looked momentarily hurt by Ryan’s abrupt answer, but he recovered quickly and pushed off the bed. “I’m right behind you.”

“Get some clothes on.” Ryan crossed the room to the door, pressed his ear against the wood, and listened for anyone in the hall.

Silence. As he’d expected.

Getting Cody out of this room was the easy part. None of the household staff came up here, especially at night. He understood all too well why. What they didn’t see, they didn’t know about or talk about to others. So it was easier just to remain blind. It was the same view Ryan had always taken, and a part of him wished he’d never opened his eyes. It was too late for second thoughts, however, and the dull ache around his ribs was a reminder. Just in case.

It took Cody less than a minute to get dressed. “I’m ready.”

Ryan looked at the younger boy, at the determination and fearlessness in his eyes. The kid had more guts than brains, but he didn’t deserve the life Trader and the General would give him. No more than Ryan deserved to die because he’d broken one of their stupid rules.

Motioning for Cody to hang back, Ryan stepped into the hall. It was empty. He opened the door wider, and Cody joined him. Ryan didn’t expect to run into anyone this time of night. Not inside the house, anyway. It was the outside that worried him.

“What about the dogs?” Cody asked, as if reading his mind.

“I drugged their food.” While looking for more aspirin in the supply pantry off the kitchen, Ryan had spotted the rat poison on the floor with the cleaning supplies. It had struck him right away what he had to do. To get away, they needed to get past the dogs. No matter what it took.

The idea of hurting an animal—even one of the General’s hated beasts—turned Ryan’s stomach. But what choice did he have? Besides, he rationalized, the dogs were a lot bigger than rats. Maybe the poison would only make them sick. So he’d dumped a fistful into an old rag and shoved it into his pocket. Later, when he was down picking up Cody’s dinner tray, he’d mixed the poison into the dogs’ food.

“I only hope I gave them enough,” he said, as much to himself as Cody.

They followed the hallway to the back stairs leading down into the kitchen. As he’d done the night before, Ryan paused on the bottom step, listening for sounds from the room beyond before opening the door.

Silence.

He opened the door, and they slipped into the quiet room. Unlike the night before, however, he headed toward the back hallway, past the servants’ quarters. He made a shushing motion to Cody, and they crept down the hallway, stealing by the closed doors. If anyone was going to hear them, it would be here.

Once again, their luck held.

They made it to the door, and Ryan unlocked it as quietly as possible. Then he eased it open, pulled Cody outside, and shut it again, making sure to relock it. They stood on the broad back porch, where the kitchen help received deliveries. Beyond, he could see the wide expanse of lawn bordered by dense woods.

“Now what?” Cody said.

“We hope the dogs are asleep.” Cody didn’t need to know about the poison. “If they are, all we need to do is make it through those trees. There’s a stone wall we’ll have to scale, then a road on the other side. After that, I think it’s another couple of miles to the main road. We’ll get a ride from there.” Not that he’d ever dreamed he could do such a thing. But once, when he’d accompanied the cook to the market, he’d seen a lone hitchhiker along the road, begging for a ride with his thumb. He and Cody could do that.

“You know where we are?”

“Not really, but I listen to the servants. And they talk about the area around the mansion.”

“And if the dogs aren’t asleep?”

Ryan shrugged, trying for a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “They know me.” Not that it would make any difference. They’d tear him apart as quickly as any stranger. But again, it wasn’t a detail Cody needed to know. “I’ll try to hold them off, and you keep running. Okay?”

Cody nodded, more eager now than frightened. Evidently he smelled the freedom and nothing much else mattered. On the other hand, Ryan was scared enough for both of them.

Together, they made their way down the back steps into the night. Taking a deep breath, Ryan looked at the younger boy and said, “Run.”

They started across the lawn, the chilly air slapping at their bare faces, the damp grass slippery beneath their feet. Ryan felt each stride ripple through his center, the pain taking on a rhythm of its own with each jarring footfall.

He told himself to ignore it. Whatever pain he felt now was nothing compared to what he’d experience if Trader caught them. So Ryan pushed through it, forcing himself to concentrate on reaching the forest ahead of them.

Halfway across . . .

He could make out the individual trees and the low bushes that would hide their escape. They were going to make it. Almost there . . .

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the flash of movement. Silent. Fast. Four-legged. Heading straight for them.

Ryan slipped.

Cody slowed and grabbed his arm. “I thought you drugged them.”

Ryan regained his footing and shoved the boy toward the woods. “Keep running, get to the trees—”

The dog struck, knocking Ryan to the ground with one powerful leap, the impact smacking the air from his lungs. He wanted to yell to Cody to keep going, but Ryan had no breath. All he could do was wrap his arms around his head to protect it from the snarling jaws.

“Get away from him,” Cody yelled, and Ryan lifted his head to see the kid charge the dog with a stick, bringing it down hard against the animal’s back.

The dog swung around and lunged for the younger boy.

Ryan threw himself forward, grabbing the animal’s rear quarters just before it caught Cody. “Get out of here,” he yelled as the dog turned furious jaws on him, snapping and sinking sharp teeth into his arm.

Ryan screamed. Darkness threatened to drag him down as he fought for consciousness. He had to keep the dog away from Cody. It would tear the smaller boy apart.

Suddenly, the animal released him.

Through a haze of pain he saw Cody jabbing the dog again with the stick, angering the already vicious animal, who snarled and growled with barred teeth.

“Are you crazy?” Ryan hollered.

“Get up, I can hold him off.”

“No . . .” Ryan tried to stand to get the dog’s attention. Too late.The dog jumped toward Cody.

And died in midair, a bullet ripping a hole in his side.

Ryan collapsed in a haze of red pain. “Go, run,” he said, but Cody was at his side, staying there until the guards pulled him away. Ryan’s last thought before everything went dark was of rat poison. Obviously, he hadn’t used enough.