No Place to Hide (25 page)

Ian’s feet pounded up the steps.

No bullets came his way.

“Ian! What are you doing?” Elizabeth’s hiss came from his left. He turned to find her crouched behind one of the brick pillars. “Get away from the door.”

“I’m going after Jackie.” Expecting to feel bullets riddle his body at any moment, he yanked open the heavy white door and ducked inside, staying low, hoping if anyone decided to shoot, they would be aiming high.

A black-clad figure stepped from the adjoining room to the left and lifted his weapon.

Ian hit the floor and rolled right as several bullets passed over his head. He pushed himself to his feet and threw himself into the opposite room. An office. With a door that led into the next room. Ian moved fast.

Where would she be? How many more people with guns waited inside? How long would it take for the feds to swarm the place?

He didn’t stop to try to figure out the answers as he moved into the next room. Another office with another door straight ahead. Ian stopped and gave a cautious look around the edge of the frame. The office led into a short hallway with a door that opened into a larger room just across from him.

A bullet zipped past his nose and he ducked back, heart thundering in his ears. Footsteps hurried toward him. “You get him?”

“No! He’s still here.”

“The feds are outside. How did he get in? We need to get out of here now!”

“What about the girl?”

“She just rolled into the fire. She’s done for. Let’s go!”

Ian heard the man curse and footsteps retreat. In the fire? Chills and nausea swept him. The cremation room. Downstairs. He needed to find the stairs.

“FBI! Freeze! Hands in the air!”

Gunshots.

Ian flinched, hoping the feds had subdued the shooters. He moved again. This time through a lounge area and past the bathroom.

He found the stairs.

Footsteps pounded behind him, shouts reached his ears, three more loud pops. He couldn’t stop now.
She’s in the fire.

At the bottom, he stopped and took a deep breath. Then rounded the corner into the large cremation room. The retort hummed just ahead and the fires burned bright.

The wooden coffin sat in the middle of the flames.

“No!” Ian bolted forward as the FBI broke down the external door.

“FBI! Freeze!”

Ian ignored them and figured he could keep moving long enough to reach his goal even if they shot him. He reached the front of the retort and slapped the emergency shutoff valve just as one of the agents tackled him to the floor.

“Get her out of there! Please!”

10:45 P.M.

Hot. So hot.

And sleepy. Did she have a fever? She wanted some water and her throat hurt. Actually, she wanted ice. On her face. No, she wanted to dive into it, be surrounded by it. Was she sick?

No. Wait a minute. She was going to burn alive. That’s right. She was going to be toast. Literally.

She wanted to giggle at her joke and then wondered what was wrong with her. Oh right. Lack of oxygen. Or too much carbon dioxide.

Or something like that. Why couldn’t she think?

Heaven. She was going to see God. Would he let her in heaven?
I want to come to heaven, God. I want to see
you. I want to ask you all kinds of questions.
And I want to see Grandpop too, okay?
She tried to drag in another breath and just couldn’t find the air.
I don’t want to die alone. Please
, God. Not alone.

I will never leave you nor forsake you.

You’re here with me now, aren’t you?
The strange calm that had settled over her not too long ago still held.
I can feel you
with me
. Thank you for that. I still don’t want to
die, but I’m not so afraid now. Just hot
. Really, really hot.

Darkness crowded in on her thoughts. She tried to focus, to stay awake, to ignore the pressure on her lungs, the increasing heat, the feeling of fire all around her, but she drifted.

Away.

Into the darkness.

Something jerked.

“Jackie! Jackie!”

Ian?

She must be already in heaven if she was hearing his voice. At least she wasn’t so hot.

“How long was she in there?” Another heavenly voice. “Ian, she could be—”

“Jackie! Someone get this lid off!”

A rattling sounded, then a sucking pop made her frown. Cool air drifted over her. Definitely heaven.

“I need paramedics here.”

Was that Ian? How was that possible?

A hand brushed her hair back. She sucked in. Air! Greedily she grasped at it, fought for consciousness, and blinked.

Her eyelids were too heavy.

She felt herself lifted, cradled against a hard chest, then placed on something soft. A mask slipped over her mouth and nose and blessed oxygen filled her lungs.

“Jackie, honey, look at me. Can you open your eyes?”

She managed. Barely.

And looked straight into Ian’s tear-filled gaze. “Ian. Hi,” she whispered. She pushed the mask off. “Are you dead too?”

A paramedic moved the mask back into place. Aggravated, Jackie ripped it off. She didn’t need a mask in heaven, didn’t they know that?

A tear slipped down his cheek and he ducked his head. “No. And you’re not either.”

“I’m not?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

He gave a soft laugh, but the tears on his cheeks said he didn’t find the situation humorous at all. “Oh yeah. I’m sure.”

“Prove it.”

“My pleasure.” He touched his lips to hers and she was so glad God hadn’t given up on her after all.

THANKSGIVING DAY
1:15 A.M.

“You were almost cremated alive, Jackie, you need to stay put and rest,” Ron said.

Jackie rubbed her eyes and glared at those who made a semicircle around her hospital bed. Ron, David, Adam, Elizabeth, and Ian. Dear sweet Ian. She needed them all to leave so she could get dressed. But in a minute. First she needed some answers. “Where’s Holly?” she asked.

“Down the hall,” Ian said. “She’s stable, so they transported her here. I just checked on her a few minutes before you were rolled into this room.”

“Has she woken up yet?”

“No.” Ian cleared his throat. “Not yet.”

“We need her to wake up, Ian,” Jackie said. “We have to get her friend’s name. They’re going to attack the parade.” She looked at Elizabeth. “You have to find Holly’s friend and warn her. Lucy’s class is going to be on one of the floats. What are you doing to stop it? Have they canceled it yet?” Jackie felt uncharacteristic hysteria rising up in her and she swallowed, trying to force it back.

Elizabeth pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “I recommended canceling it when we first found out, but it’s simply too late. There are already people in the city at the hotels and just . . . everywhere. If we cancel the parade, these people will just find another way to release the virus. And,” she drew in a deep breath, “we have to consider the source. Even though you’ve been proven innocent, for the past few days you’ve been a terrorist doing everything you could do to elude capture. My Special Agent in Charge still isn’t 100 percent positive you’re not involved somehow and is reluctant to trust anything you have to say.”

“What?” Ian shouted.

“But the people—” Jackie said at the same time.

Ian pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“And I heard them talking,” Jackie said. “I heard them while I was shut up in that box—” Her voice shook and she pulled in a deep breath. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to shut her eyes and sleep again. Not without horrific memories crowding her brain.

“I know. I know.”

“No, you don’t. I heard them specifically say they were going to target the parade. You
have
to convince the FBI to cancel it, postpone it, whatever.”

“They won’t,” Elizabeth said softly.

David rubbed his chin and exchanged a glance with Adam. “Please tell me they’re upping security.”

“Of course. While they can’t cancel it, they
are
taking it seriously and pulling out all the stops to make sure security is extremely tight. They’re doing metal detectors, all bags will be scanned.” She shrugged. “It will be like going through airport security.”

“This is crazy,” Adam said and shook his head.

“What are we going to do?” Jackie whispered.

“You’re going to stay put and rest,” Ian said. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Jackie,” Elizabeth said. “One of them escaped. He had a motorcycle hidden off the property. We chased him, but he got away. Did you see any of them? Could you describe them to a sketch artist?”

“No.” She rubbed her eyes. They felt gritty and burned. “I remember the crash and then nothing until I woke up in the box.” She just couldn’t say “coffin” yet. “But—” She gasped and sat up.

“What?”

“I heard them clearly.”

“Yes?” Elizabeth asked.

“So I could identify their voices. One spoke with a slight accent.”

“What kind of accent?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, I’d have to hear it again. I wasn’t exactly filing that kind of information away at the time.”

“Of course.”

“But—”

Elizabeth’s phone rang and she stepped out of the room to answer it. Jackie wished she could listen in on the conversation. “Okay, y’all need to leave. I’m going to get dressed and get out of this hospital. We’ve got terrorists to stop.”

1:45 A.M.

“I’ve got more on this code. It’s all related to the keyboard,” Tyesha said.

“When was the last time you slept, Ty?”

Ty huffed a soft laugh. “I don’t remember. It’s not important. You ready?”

“Sure. Go ahead.” Elizabeth pressed the phone to her ear and walked to the nurse’s desk to find a pen and paper.

“Okay, we’ve got New York on Standby and smallpox delivered. I had all kinds of combinations for the third line, but one stands out to me.”

“What?”

“MTDP,” Tyesha said.

“What does that—” It clicked. “Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.” She wrote it down.

“That’s what I think, but we already figured that out from the date.”

“Right. Okay, then the next line was the date and time of the parade.” She went ahead and wrote that too.

“Right.”

“The next line says ‘masks in floor.’ It didn’t take me long to find the pattern. It’s three letters to the left of the symbol written in the code.”

“Masks in floor. In the floor of what?”

“Maybe the floor of the float? Whoever’s going to release this virus isn’t going to want to take a chance on exposing himself. Unless he’s suicidal. The mention of masks makes me think that’s not the case.”

“Yes, that makes sense.”

“But which one?”

“I have no idea. You’ve almost got it all.”

“I think Holly’s right and the contact person is Tate R. No last name of course, but I think the letters after that are a phone number. It’s tricky and I don’t know if it’s the right one, but I came up with 212-264-5651. Moving up two from the initial
letter in the code to the left and picking the number. I’m pretty sure the 1, 2, and 3 are in there as a distraction. They’re not necessary. I think.”

“Did you try the number?”

“No. I didn’t want to. If there’s a bomb involved—”

Elizabeth rubbed her gritty eyes. “Calling the number could set it off. Of course.”

“We traced the number, though, but nothing. It’s probably a throwaway phone.”

She nodded. Figured. “Okay, thanks. Has there been any change on the status of the parade?”

“It’s still a go.”

She closed her eyes. “Then we’re going to have to work fast.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do.”

Elizabeth hung up and turned to find Jackie standing behind her, dressed and looking extremely rough around the edges. Ian stood beside her, hands held as though he figured he might need to catch her when she toppled over. “You need to rest.”

Jackie didn’t topple. She stepped forward, a ferocious frown on her face. “You really think I can do that when you and I both know terrorists are going to strike soon? My friend’s daughter is in danger. I need to know Maria’s last name.”

“Her last name is Fox.”

Jackie blinked, the frown faded. “Okay. How did you find that out?”

“We called the principal and got the name of the children’s teacher. She answered and we got the last name from her.”

“Oh. Well, good. So did you call Maria?”

“Yes. Well, someone did, but she’s not answering. I’ll know as soon as they get ahold of her.”

“Okay. So now what?”

“We start screening every single person involved with the parade.”

Jackie’s eyes widened. “There’s no time for that.”

“We don’t have any other choice. It’s a place to start until we come up with a better plan.”

4:16 A.M.

Maria rolled over to look at the clock. She gave a contented sigh and snuggled back into the warmth of her husband. She couldn’t believe it when he’d said he could stay the night and even take her to work in the morning. When they’d walked in the door, he’d given her a gentle shove toward their bedroom. “Go pack a bag. A big one for you and Lewis.”

At his voice, Lewis had looked up from his game of Sorry with his friend Lucy. His eyes had flown wide and he’d given an ecstatic cry, bolted across the den and into his father’s arms. Lucy had clapped her happiness at seeing her friend’s joy. Lucy. Such a sweet child. Maria could only pray her mother would pull through and live to watch her grow up.

She pushed the sad thoughts away and let her lips curve into a smile. Lucy would go back to Carissa’s, and she and her family would go on a well-deserved vacation. She’d packed her bag and then, unable to help herself, went snooping. She’d found the brochure and plane tickets in her husband’s coat pocket while he and Lewis had wrestled on the den floor. They were going to Mexico to an all-inclusive resort. Today. After the parade.