Page 32 of Deadly Threat
Sam’s keen gaze floated between them. “Actually yes, which is why I’m here.” She slapped a leather messenger bag on the breakfast bar, digging into it, pulling out a manila folder. Opening it, she laid out a line of photos on the marble. Some appeared to be satellite pictures of buildings, others of interior rooms.
She tapped one that showed an overhead shot of a property with multiple buildings. “This was a private lab back in the eighties. The Iranians were using ricin as a weapon, and this lab was contracted by our government to create the same type, and experiment with potential antidotes. Lots of cold storage units in here, as well as a furnace where they burnt anything that accidentally was exposed to the toxin, and cremated the lab animals they experimented on.”
Mia flinched, “That’s horrible.”
Malachi came to peer over her shoulder. Mia naturally moved closer to him. He placed his arms around her, pointing at a blurry lot. The images of several vehicles were parked between them. “What’s going on there? What is that next to the lab?”
“A landfill.” Sam took out a report with the EPA’s logo at the top, “It was tested by the EPA when the lab had to be shut down, both properties had ricin contamination. The techs were all exposed and most died. A clean-up crew was sent in and sanitized. The landfill was simply closed and marked as hazardous.
Mia glanced between the two of them. “So, what are you saying? That you think this is somewhere Marcher used? That Amber could be there?”
Sam shoved another picture toward her. “There’s a loading dock like you described, spaces used for experiments, a cremation room, and multiple buildings. The danger from the ricin is gone, but the property was a write-off. It’s been abandoned for years, or so the government believed. No one wanted it. Except, satellite imagery shows activity suggesting someone has been using it again.”
The tiny flame of hope Mia kept tending to grew. “Could Amber be there?”
Sam tapped a third and fourth aerial shot. “At least a dozen times since two thousand eighteen, vehicles were photographed by the NSA coming and going from the property, as well as smoke occasionally issuing from the crematorium. Nothing was ever confirmed and no one was caught when it was reported. Law enforcement believed it was homeless people or druggies using it to squat. It could have been Marcher and he used the landfill as well.”
She still hadn’t answered Mia.
“Makes it convenient to dump bodies.” Malachi stated.
“That it is. Or at least their cremated remains. Best of all?” Sam gave Mia a direct look. “It’s only eight miles away from where SPDP caught Marcher with you in the trunk, Mia.”
The suffocating memory flashed through her mind. It had been dumb luck that her captor loaded her in his vehicle that night. He had something big planned—Mia suspected her death—he never anticipated a rookie cop pulling him over for a burned out taillight. She’d been delirious from starvation and torture, but she’d had an instinct to make as much noise as possible. Marcher had assumed she was passed out, but she’d gotten her revenge in the end by bloodying her hands and feet, hammering them on the lid and screaming through the gag in her mouth to catch the officer’s attention.
Marcher had shot the policeman when he’d asked to see inside. Then her kidnapper had taken off. The cop’s partner, still in the cruiser, jumped out and fired on Marcher’s car. She remembered the high speed chase that followed, her body banging around in that dark trunk, her nose filled with the smell of moldy carpet and metal. By that time, she’d long since run out of tears, but the complete irony of being so close to salvation, only for Marcher to win again, had brought a fresh deluge. Along with them, she had screamed and screamed and screamed.
Marcher hadn’t escaped, though, and she’d been rescued.
Sam touched her hand as a kind of solidarity. “We found three sites within the parameters we are looking, Dupé wants them all investigated, but I believe this location is our best bet. SWAT is heading there tonight at sunset.”
“I want to be there.”
Sam frowned. “I’m sorry, Mia. You’re a civilian. It’s too dangerous and Dupé will never okay it.”
“I’m going.”
Sam and Malachi exchanged a glance. Sam began to argue but Malachi intervened first. “She deserves to be there, but I understand where you’re coming from. Dupé is right. It’s too dangerous.” He shifted Mia back a foot, tugging her close to his hip. “Thanks for keeping us informed, Sam. I know you’ll contact us as soon as you learn anything from any of the sites.”
Mia fumed. “Malachi, I have to be there if they find Amber.” She tried to push away from him but he was too strong and kept her pinned against him. “What if it was Caleb or Joe?” She pointed at Sam. “If you were in my place, would you sit here on your hands and do nothing?”
Sam gave her a patient look. Malachi rubbed her shoulder, drawing her aside, putting his back to the agent as she began gathering the photos. He winked at Mia and put a finger to his lips. “We’ll head back to Mia’s as soon as we find her a disguise,” he told Sam.
Mia frowned, trying to shove him away, but he winked again and suddenly she got it.
He was misleading the agent.
A slow smile spread across her face, and when he saw her get it, he nodded slightly. She returned it. “Okay,” she said. Secrets, disguises. A plan. Maybe she could do this after all.
Giving in too easily would make Sam suspicious. She squeezed Malachi’s hand and then shifted to see the FBI agent who was going for her coat. “Will you please ask Director Dupé for me?”
If Sam smelled a rat, she didn’t show it. She pulled on her outerwear and petted Jack-Jack once more. “Yes, I’ll try, but don’t get your hopes up. Keep your phones on and I’ll call you the minute we know anything for sure.” She offered Mia a sad smile. “It’s the best I can do.”
Mia felt Malachi put a hand on her shoulder. “I understand,” she said again. “Thank you.”
Fourteen
Malachi watched Sam drive away.
