Dangerous Sanctuary Page 9

  “Wow, that’s quite a list.”

  “It is, and I’m wondering where he met all the low-life thugs.”

  “Prison?”

  “We checked. His record is clean. Nothing in his past that should have put him in the path of so many criminals.”

  “Then, it doesn’t make sense that so many are working for him.”

  “None of this makes sense.” He nudged her backward until she was in the room again.

  She sat on the mattress, heart thudding, mind humming as she tried to put all the pieces together. Absalom. A bunch of criminals. A compound out in the middle of nowhere that pretended to be a posh resort.

  “I wonder what he’s hiding out there?” she murmured, reaching for a cup of water that sat on a table beside.

  He lifted it for her, held it to her lips.

  “The police plan to find out. They’ve closed the place down, sent all the guests home, and they’re combing through every cabin, every yurt and every outbuilding.”

  “What about the residents? Are they still there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They’re nice people, Radley. And they have nowhere else to go. That’s their home. If they’re forced to leave, they’ll have nothing.”

  “I’ll call Officer Wallace and ask him, if that’ll make you feel better,” he offered as he set the cup back on the table.

  She shook her head. “Let’s go out there instead. See for ourselves, make sure the crime scenes are processed properly.”

  “Damien Wallace seems like a nice enough guy, but I doubt he’s going to be happy to have us hanging around critiquing his work or the work of the Vermont State Crime Lab.”

  She’d known that.

  She’d just been hoping Radley would be curious enough to ignore protocol and take her back to the compound.

  Apparently, he wasn’t.

  “It was just a thought.” She got up from the bed and paced across the room, restless because she was in the hospital and because she still didn’t know what was going on. “Have you been able to reach Wren? Maybe she’ll have some insight into things.”

  “She and Henry Miller are on the way here.”

  “Henry? It’s Friday, isn’t it?” She’d seen the calendar on the receptionist’s desk when she’d been checked in.

  “Early Saturday morning, if you want to be technical.”

  “Either way, I’m surprised Henry agreed to come. He never works on weekends.” A widower whose wife had been the victim of a drive-by shooting a month before their twin daughters were due, he’d said goodbye to his wife and hello to his children on the same day.

  She hadn’t known him then, but she’d heard people whispering about how devastated he’d been, about the fact that he’d almost quit the agency and probably would have if Wren hadn’t offered him extended leave and a chance to return whenever he was ready. Six months later, he’d finally returned.

  From what Honor had heard, he hadn’t worked a weekend since.

  During the week, he arrived at the office after he dropped the girls off at his parents’ place. He sometimes worked late hours, and his mother would bring them home, tuck them into bed and wait until his return. The weekends, though, were sacred, set aside for the girls, for church, for catching up on the things he got behind on during the week. He’d told Honor that once when they’d both been taking the elevator to the lobby early one Friday evening.

  “His in-laws took the twins on a Disney cruise to celebrate their fifth birthday. They’ll be gone until late Sunday night.”

  “He should have enjoyed his quiet house and stayed far away from this mess.”

  “You sound disgusted.”

  “I am. Absalom should already be behind bars. The state police should have been out at the compound with a search warrant in hand within a half hour of Wren calling in the request for assistance.”

  “Even a half hour probably would have been too long, Honor. Absalom was probably gone before we escaped.”

  “I shot him full of a sedative, remember?”

  “And he had plenty of followers who probably knew how to dose him with something that would wake him up.”

  “You’re being reasonable, Radley. I appreciate that, but I’m not happy about any of this.”

  “I might have some information that will brighten your mood,” he said, a slight smile softening the hard angles of his face.

  “What?”

  “I asked Wren to see if she could get information on the training seminar Mary Alice is attending. She put in some calls, asked around, spoke to some people who keep tabs on local cults. There is a training facility in Saugus. Housed in an old Victorian. Nice big sign out in front promising spiritual awakening to anyone who enters. Wren accessed the sales records. Guess who the owner is?”

  “Absalom Winslow? You found Mary Alice!” she nearly shouted, throwing her arms around him just like she would have a friend or sibling. Just like she’d once done when she was working on difficult projects with groups of fellow tech geeks. Friendly excitement. That was all she meant to convey, but his arms slipped around her waist. She caught a whiff of coffee and soap, felt herself leaning in closer, enjoying the warmth of his body, the gentleness of his touch.

  She was so surprised by that, so shocked, she was frozen in place. Not sure if she should back away, finish the hug, pretend nothing had happened.

  His grip tightened, he tugged her closer, and then, just as quickly, stepped away.

  “That was stupid. I’m sorry,” she managed to say, embarrassed because she’d thrown herself into the arms of a coworker, a fellow member of the Special Crimes Unit, a guy she’d be seeing five days a week for a long time. Unless one of them quit.

  And she didn’t think either of them planned to do that.

  “What’s stupid about it?” he asked.

  “We’re coworkers. Not friends,” she replied.

  “Interesting,” he responded, studying her face, his eyes dark and unreadable.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t think there was a rule against being both.”

  “Of course, there isn’t. It’s just...”

  “What?”

  “Friendship sometimes leads to other things.”

  “Sometimes it doesn’t.”

  “Right.” Her cheeks were hot and that frustrated her. She didn’t usually get flustered.

  “So, how about we don’t worry about where our friendship could lead and just allow ourselves to be friends?”

  “Right. Of course. Sure,” she said, still fumbling and flustered.

  He smiled. Gently. Easily. As if maybe he’d felt exactly what she had when they’d hugged and was just as confused.

  “We’ll worry about everything else later,” he continued.

  “Everything else?” she asked, but he chucked her under the chin, a friendly gesture that shouldn’t have made her heart swoon.

  But, it did.

  Like some lovelorn heroine of a romance novel.

  And then he walked out of the room, closed the door and left her standing there with her cheeks hot and her pulse racing.

  “Idiot,” she muttered. “You are not attracted to Radley Tumberg. You are not going to spend another second thinking about what would happen if you were, and he was. You aren’t!”

  She walked to the window, pulled open the heavy curtains and looked outside. Rain was still pouring from the sky, splattering into the parking lot below. There weren’t many cars there. Just a few parked haphazardly. Some close to the building. Some farther. She didn’t see Radley’s truck, but then, she wasn’t sure she was facing the emergency room lot where he’d parked it.

  A light flashed, a quick burst coming from the edge of the lot.

  She was down before her brain could register what she’d seen, instinct kicking
in before thoughts could form.

  The window exploded, glass showering down on her, but she was already moving, crawling across the room, jumping up to flick off the light as the door flew open and Radley raced in.

  * * *

  Cold air and rain swept into the room, curtains billowing away from the shattered window. Absalom’s work. Radley knew it, and he wanted to go after the guy before he had a chance to escape.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, lifting Honor off her feet as he hurried her from the room.

  “I think so.” She brushed bits of glass from her arm, her eyes deep blue in the corridor’s harsh light. “But I’m sure Absalom would be happy if I wasn’t.”

  “Did you see him?”

  “All I saw was a flash of light across the parking lot,” she replied, the words brusque.

  “You shouldn’t have been near the window,” he said, the words slipping out because she could have been killed. One bullet and good aim. That was all it would have taken.

  “No need to rub salt in the open wound,” she replied without heat. “I’m well aware of how stupid it was to pull back the curtains and stand there like a sitting duck waiting to be shot.”

  “Stand like a sitting duck?” he asked, because they were both tense, frustrated and angry about what had happened, and he needed to lighten the mood and clear their minds so that they could think through their options.

  She smiled. “Funny guy, but I’m still frustrated with myself. I know better.”

  “You’re okay. That’s what matters.”

  “What matters is catching Absalom,” she responded, taking a step toward the room.

  He pulled her up short, his fingers loose around her wrist. “I am pretty certain we just established that you should stay away from the window.”

  “Right. He was across the parking lot. If we hurry, we might be able to catch him.”

  “We’re not doing anything,” he replied as a nurse and security guard raced toward them.

  “Everyone okay here?” the guard asked, his attention on the open door to the room.

  “You need to call the police and get someone outside. You’ve got an active shooter nearby,” Radley replied. He wanted to run outside himself, search the rain-soaked landscape until he found Absalom, but he couldn’t leave Honor with a security guard who wasn’t armed and looked like he might still be in high school.

  “I’ve already done both, sir,” the young man said. “The officer who escorted you here was giving our team instructions on keeping the building secure.” He blushed, apparently realizing the irony of what he was saying. “He’s already heading outside and has called for backup.”

  “We should join him,” Honor said, grabbing her IV pole and marching to the bank of elevators. She looked like she meant business. Even with glass glittering in her hair and specks of blood on her cheeks, an IV pole in one hand and a catheter in her arm, she looked like a woman on a mission. One who had no intention of being stopped.

  “Wren and Henry should be here soon. When they arrive, I’ll find Officer Wallace and have him update me on what he’s discovered. For now, it’s best if we both stay here,” he said, moving into place beside her. Trying not to think about how it had felt when she’d thrown herself into his arms. As if everything that had ever been wrong was suddenly right. He’d stepped back, because the feeling had surprised him.

  Now he was close again. Moving into her space, because he was afraid for her.

  “I’m not going to hide, Radley,” she said. “That’s not the way I work.”

  She pulled at the tape covering the IV catheter and needle, and he had the feeling she was going to remove it, yank out the needle and go.

  “Maybe not, but I promised your grandmother I’d bring you home. I didn’t mean in a body bag.”

  She met his eyes. “I’m not going out there to let him kill me. I’m going so that he’ll think he has the chance.”

  “You’re talking about using yourself as bait?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Only about three dozen,” he replied, frustrated with her persistence, and maybe a little impressed by it.

  Because he wanted Absalom, too, and Honor was the surefire way to get him.

  “Okay. Throw one at me. If it’s a good one, I’ll agree to cower in a room while you go off and do the he-man thing.”

  “He-man?”

  “The hero running to the rescue? Facing all the obstacles. Doing the hard work while the poor insipid woman twiddles her thumbs and prays for help?”

  “You’re a lot of things, Honor. Insipid isn’t one of them.”

  She looked up from the tape she’d been picking at, met his eyes, and he felt the same connection he had when she’d thrown her arms around him.

  As if a tilting world had suddenly straightened and life made sense again.

  “That’s nice of you to say, Radley. And, since you think it, how about we go ahead and get this show on the road?” she responded as the elevator doors slid open.

  “What show?” Wren Santino asked, stepping off the elevator, Henry Miller by her side. Both were tall, thin and muscular. Both moved with purpose and confidence. Wren carried a cup of coffee and had an oversized bag hanging from her shoulder. Despite the fact that it was after work hours and she’d left Boston in a hurry, she was dressed like the agent she was—dark pantsuit perfectly fitted, tailored shirt, jacket open and revealing flashes of her shoulder holster and firearm. As always, her hair was pulled back into a neat bun. If she wore makeup it was subtle enough not to be noticeable. If she didn’t, her skin was nearly flawless, the shallow lines at the corner of her eyes the only hint that she was nearing her mid-thirties.

  “We’re discussing a plan to bring Absalom Winslow into custody,” Honor responded.

  “And, that would be what?” Wren asked, taking a sip of coffee, her gaze flitting from Honor to Radley and back again.

  “Someone shot out the window in my room,” Honor continued. “I believe it was Winslow, and I think if I go outside, we may be able to draw him closer to the building.”

  “You want to walk outside with an IV in your arm and play bait for a killer?” Wren raised a dark brow and shook her head. “I think we can come up with a better plan. Henry, would you mind escorting Honor to her room while Radley and I check the exterior of the building?”

  “No problem,” Henry responded.

  “And, can you take this with you?” She pulled a gun holster from her bag and then handed the bag to him.

  “I can do that, too,” he agreed. Unlike Wren, he was dressed in civilian clothes. Well-worn jeans. A flannel shirt. Both faded and a little wrinkled. If Radley hadn’t seen the guy in action, he’d have taken him for tech crew. He had that kind of vibe. Soft-spoken, quick to listen, slow to speak. Always hunkered over files, searching for details that might have been missed. He didn’t waste time taking lunch breaks away from his desk. When he was in the office, he was in—completely focused and totally devoted to whatever case he was working on. When he was in the field, he was quick and decisive, but his ability to put people at ease, to make them trust him, was what put Radley to shame. Of all of the agents on the team, Henry was the one who could drag answers and information from the most reluctant of witnesses.

  “Come on, Honor.” Henry cupped her elbow. “Let’s find a room that doesn’t have a window blown out, and if you’re up to it, you can tell me what you remember about your time at the Sanctuary.” He was using the soothing tone Radley had heard him use with witnesses.

  Honor didn’t seem impressed.

  “I’m not going to break, Henry. You don’t have to talk to speak with me as if I might.”

  “You are one of the most unbreakable human-beings I’ve ever met,” Henry responded, already leading her away.

  “Now, you’re trying to flatter me into com
pliance,” Honor retorted, and Henry laughed.

  For some reason, that made Radley want to follow, to stake a claim he had no right to.

  He frowned.

  “You don’t look happy,” Wren commented, and he met her eyes, realized she’d been watching him watch Honor walk away.

  “A madman with a firearm is wandering free. Should I be?”

  She smiled. “You have a firearm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Holster?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.” She handed him the holster. “Strap it on. I don’t like my agents carrying firearms around in their waistbands.”

  He strapped on the holster, tucked the gun into it and nodded. “Let’s go.”

  “And, hope he’s still out there. It’s interesting that he managed to find Honor here, isn’t it?” she asked as pressed the elevator call button. “We’re forty-five minutes from Absalom’s compound.”

  “True, but Honor was injured. He knew that. He probably assumed we’d go get treatment for the injuries.”

  “There are medical centers between Sunrise Spiritual Sanctuary and Hartford. Three of them. All of them are open twenty-four hours. There’s also a small hospital ten miles east of here. Close enough that you might have chosen to go there.”

  True. All of it.

  That was one of the things he liked about Wren. She was clear-thinking, smart and focused.

  “So, how’d he wind up here?” she continued as they stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed. “And how did he happen to see her standing in the window? This building is three stories tall, and she said he was across the parking lot.”

  “Those are good questions.”

  “Let’s find the answers, find the perp and put him away where he belongs.”

  The elevator doors opened again, and she led the way through the lobby and outside.

  They crossed the parking lot together, the sound of radios ringing through the predawn darkness. Police and security guards were moving between sparsely parked cars, searching for the perpetrator.

  They wouldn’t find him.