Page 11 of Hunted

“Just in case they missed something. A note, a vial, a sample.”

She stared at him so hard it felt like she was trying to see inside him, maybe trying to decide whether he could be trusted.

“Look, I’ve got one goal. To stop this weapon from falling into the hands of someone like Putin or Kim Jong Il or the effing Saudis.”

“How do I know I can believe you?”

“You don’t.”

She stood there a moment, deep in thought. Finally she shook her head. “It’s all a mistake, anyway. There is no killer virus. My father was a great man. His work has saved countless lives. He would never create something like that.”

“He not only would, he did.”

“No, he didn’t. I’ll never believe it. He would have told me.” She let her voice trail off, uncertainty clouding her eyes.

“Would he?”

Her chin came up, and her gaze met his. “He couldn’t have done what you say he did.”

“Okay. I say he did it, and you say he didn’t. There’s only one way to prove which of us is right.”

She closed her eyes, clenched jaw. “I have to process this. I need time to think?—”

“There is no time to think, Doc. I’m not lying when I say more men like those two downstairs will be showing up soon. And they’ll do everything they said they’d do to you and then some.”

Her eyes opened and she faced him. He thought maybe she’d come to a decision.

“My father didn’t work the entire time we were here. He didn’t bring a computer. Nothing from the lab. There’s nothing here.”

He found he could read her like a book. Her expressions were transparent. And he believed her. “There was a safe deposit box receipt in his papers. Could there be anything there?”

“If there were anything to find, it would more likely be there than here.” She averted her eyes a little bit.

He nodded slowly. “You’re sure there are no notes here in the house?”

“I’m sure.” He turned her chin so he could watch her face as she spoke. She frowned, but met his gaze head on. “I went through everything after he passed. There were no research notes, no formulae, nothing like that.”

Just a mystery safe deposit box. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “I want the name of the bank. And then I want the key.”

She frowned as if searching her mind again. Then she turned and left the room. Romano followed her down the hall, into a bedroom that had to be hers. The rumpled bed, the cat peering out from underneath it. She yanked open a dresser drawer, took out a pair of jeans and bent to step into them, tugging them on under the nightgown, snapping, zipping, and making him feel a stir he had no business feeling.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting dressed. I’ll give you the key and then I’m leaving. All right?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She dug through the dresser again, emerging this time with a shirt. Turning her back, she tugged the nightgown off over her head.

Romano stood like his feet had grown roots, staring at the length of her bare arms, the curve of her spine, the soft, smooth roundness of her shoulders.

With great effort, he averted his eyes and tried to focus on something else besides her. The fireplace on one wall, not burning. The neat stack of kindling and wood on the grate, ready for the touch of a match. The brass log holder, filled with fragrant, seasoned cherry wood.

“You’ll leave me alone?” she asked. “You promise? If there’s anything to be found, it will be in that safe deposit box. And whatever you do find, it’s only going to prove that you’re wrong.”

He looked at her again. She was buttoning the pretty white blouse. Thank God for small favors.

He went silent at the sound of tires crunching gravel, cussed himself for not grabbing that receipt from the old man’s room. First National Bank, New York, New York, that much he remembered. Which branch? What was the box number?

He looked to the hall, wondering if he could dash back down to her father’s room and grab that receipt. “We’re out of time,” he said in answer to his own internal question.

She looked up quickly, and all her courage dissolved before his eyes. Her fear returned. “You’re coming with me, you understand? If you want to survive this, don’t argue about it. Now get the damned key and let’s get out of here.”

---