Riptide

Becca said slowly, “Because she was important, because-” Suddenly, her eyes gleamed. “Oh my God. Sherlock is right. It isn’t Krimakov, but neither is it a friend or a former colleague. It’s someone a whole lot closer to him.”

“Yep. Somebody so close he’s nearly wearing his skin. We’re nearly there, Becca. The timing of his visits -they’re in the early fall or very late spring. Every one of them.”

“Like the begi

When they got back to Thomas’s house, only Thomas and Hatch were there, their conversation desultory, both of them looking so depressed that Adam nearly told Hatch to go smoke a cigarette. Becca heard Hatch cursing. It sounded like Paul Hogan and his sexy Aussie accent.

“Cheer up, everyone,” Adam said. “Becca and I have a surprise for you. One that will get you dancing on the ceiling. All we’ve got to do now is have Savich turn on MAX and send him to England. Now we’ve got a chance.” He bent down and kissed Becca, right in front of Thomas. She raised her hand and lightly touched her fingertips to his cheek. “Yes, we do,” she said.

The doorbell rang, making everyone suddenly very alert and very focused. It was Dr. Breaker. “Hello, Savich.” He nodded to everyone else. “We’ve found something none of you is going to believe.” And he told them about the very slight abnormalities in Becca’s blood that a tech had caught. Then he checked Becca’s shoulder, and finally he checked her upper arm. It wasn’t long before he looked up and said, “I feel something, right here, just beneath her skin. It’s small, flexible.”

Adam nodded. “The visit to Riptide makes sense now. You know what’s in your arm, don’t you, Becca?”

“Yes,” she said. “Now all of us know.” She raised her hand when her father would have begun arguments. “No, I’m not leaving. No more people are going to die in my place, like Agent Marlane. No one is going to be bait in my stead. No, no arguments. I stay here with you. Hey, I’ve got my Coonan.”

For the first time in more nights than she could count, Becca wanted to stay awake, stay alert, keep watch. He was close. She wanted to see him with clear eyes and a clear mind and her Coonan in her hand. She wanted to shoot him between the eyes. And she wanted to know why he was doing this. Was he really mad? Psychotic?

Oh damn, she didn’t think she’d be able to hang on. She was nearly light-headed she was so tired. She’d been so hyped up the past couple of nights, she’d just lain there and blinked at the rising moon outside the bedroom window.

Adam had insisted on tucking her in. She wanted him to stay just a little longer, but she knew he couldn’t. He kissed her, just a nibble on her earlobe, and said against her ear, “No, I don’t want another cold shower. But dream of me, Becca, okay? I’ve got the first watch. It starts soon.”

“Be careful, Adam.”

“I will, everyone will. Try to sleep, sweetheart. He knows the house. He knows which room is Thomas’s. We’ve got Thomas well guarded.” He kissed her once again and rose. “Get some sleep.”

She didn’t want to. After he eased out of her bedroom door, closing it quietly behind him, she sat up in bed, thinking, remembering, analyzing. She was asleep in under six minutes. She dreamed, but not of the terror that was very close now, not of Adam.

She found herself in a hospital, walking down long, empty corridors. White, so much white, unending, going on and on, forever. She was looking for her mother. She smelled ether fumes, sweet and heavy, the ammonia scent of urine, the stench of vomit. She opened each white door along the corridor. All the beds were empty, the white sheets stretched military tight. No one. Where were the patients?

So long, the hallway just went on and on and there were moans coming from behind all those doors, people in pain, but there were no nurses, no doctors, no one at all. She knew the rooms were empty, she’d looked into all of them, yet the moans grew louder and louder.

Where was her mother? She called out for her, then she started ru

“Hello, Rebecca.”

29

Becca lurched up in bed, sweaty, breathing hard, her heart pounding. No, it wasn’t her mother, no, it was someone else.

Finally he was here. He’d come to her first, not to her father. A surprise, but not a big one, at least to her. She lay very still, gathering herself, her control, her focus.

“Hello, Rebecca,” he said again, this time he was even closer to her face, nearly touching her.

“You can’t be here,” she said aloud. He’d gotten past everyone, but again, that didn’t overly surprise her. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gotten both the house plans and the security system plans. And now he wasn’t even six inches from her.

“Of course I can be here. I can be anywhere I want. I’m a cloud of smoke, a sliding shadow, a glimmer of light. I like how frightened you are. Just listen to you, your voice is even trembling with fear. Yes, I like that. Now, you even try to move and I will, very simply, cut your ski

She felt the razor-sharp blade against the front of her neck, pressing in ever so slightly.

“We knew you would come,” she said.

He laughed quietly, now not even an inch from her ear. She felt his hot breath touch her skin. “Of course you knew I’d find you. I can do anything. Your father is so stupid, Rebecca. I’ve always known it, always, and now I’ve proved it the final time. I figured out how to find his lair, and poof-like shimmering smoke-I’m here. You and your bastard father lose now. Soon, you and I are going down the hall to his bedroom. I want him to wake up with me standing over him, you in front of me, a knife digging into your neck. Even with those hotshot FBI guards he’s got positioned all around this house, I got through with little effort. There’s this great big oak tree that comes almost to the roof of the house. Just a little jump, not more than six feet, and I was on the roof, and then it was easy to pry open that trapdoor into the attic. I took care of the security alarm up there, cut it off for all of the upstairs. No one saw me. It’s nice and dark tonight. Stupid, all of you are stupid. Now, get up.”

She did as he said. She felt calm. He kept her very close, the knife across her neck as he opened her bedroom door and eased her out into the hallway. “The last door down on the right,” he said. “Just keep walking and keep quiet, Rebecca.”

It was nearly one o’clock in the morning; Becca saw the time on the old grandfather clock that sat in its niche in the corridor.

“Open the door,” he said against her ear, “slowly, quietly. That’s right.”

Her father’s bedroom door opened without a sound. There was a night-light on in the co

“Wake up, you butchering bastard,” he said, one eye on the balcony windows.

There was still no movement on the bed.

She heard his breathing quicken, felt the knife move slightly against her neck. “No, you don’t move, Rebecca. Just one little slice and your blood will spew like a fountain all over the floor.” Suddenly, he said, nearly a yell, “Thomas Matlock! Where are you?”

“I’m right here, Krimakov.”

He whirled Becca around, facing Thomas, who was standing, fully dressed, in the lighted doorway of the bathroom, his arms crossed over his chest.

“It’s about time you got here,” Thomas said easily, his eyes on the knife that was pressing into Becca’s neck. “Don’t hurt her. We’ve been waiting for you. I was starting to believe you’d lost your nerve, that you’d gotten too scared, that you’d finally run away.”