A second chance to shift the balance. Power and glory against Robert and the children and a happiness that had shone like a brilliant sun these many years. The fact that those years had been spent under the shadow of the sword, with not one moment taken for granted, had only made them more precious.
There was no contest.
She took Elizabeth’s will and tucked the document back into the hidden depths of the lute. “I do believe we should give this lute to Patrick.” She kissed Robert lovingly on the cheek before linking her arm with his. “A distraction is definitely needed. That rascal Gavin has been teaching our son the bagpipes, and I believe the lad’s going to be even worse at it than Gavin himself.”
IRIS JOHANSEN, who has more than twenty-seven million copies of her books in print, has won many awards for her achievements in writing. The bestselling author of The Ugly Duckling, And Then You Die, Long After Midnight, The Face of Deception, The Killing Game, The Search, Final Target, Body of Lies, No One to Trust, Dead Aim, Fatal Tide, Firestorm, Blind Alley, Countdown, and On the Run, she lives near Atlanta, Georgia, where she is currently at work on a new novel.
Turn the page for a preview of
Iris Johansen’s next tale of intrigue
and deception, introducing a
remarkable new heroine.
KILLER DREAMS
Coming in hardcover from
Bantam Books in June 2006
KILLER DREAMS
On sale June 2006
Fentway University Hospital
Baltimore, Maryland
What’s going on? You’re not supposed to be here.”
Sophie Dunston looked up from the chart to see Kathy VanBoskirk, the head night nurse, standing in the doorway. “An overnight apnea study.”
“You worked all day and now you’re monitoring an overnighter?” Kathy came into the room and glanced at the bed on the other side of the double glass panel. “Ah, an infant. The light dawns.”
“Not so much an infant any longer. Elspeth’s fourteen months,” Sophie said. “She’d stopped having incidents three months ago and now they’re back. She just stops breathing in the middle of the night and her doctor can’t find any reason for it. Her mother is worried sick.”
“Then where is she?”
“She works nights.”
“So do you. Days and nights.” Kathy gazed at the sleeping baby. “Lord, she’s beautiful. Makes my biological clock start ticking. My kid is fifteen now and there’s nothing lovable about him. I’m hoping he’ll turn back into a human being in another six years. Think I have a chance?”
“Don is just your typical teenager. He’ll get there.” Sophie rubbed her eyes. They felt as if they had sand in them. It was almost five and the sleep study would be over soon. Then she’d run the errand that was on the top of her list before getting to bed and grabbing a few hours of shut-eye before she had to get back for her one o’clock session with the Cartwright child. “And he offered to clean my car last week when you had him at the office.”
“He probably wanted a chance to swipe it.” Kathy grimaced. “Or maybe he wanted the chance to score with an older woman. He thinks you’re cool-looking.”
“Yeah, sure.” Right now, Sophie felt older than her years, frumpy, and ugly as sin. She turned back the chart and checked Elspeth’s case history. She’d had an apnea episode about one a.m. and nothing since. There might be something there that would help her pin down—
“There’s a message for you at the nurses’ station,” Kathy said.
Sophie stiffened. “Home?”
Kathy quickly shook her head. “No. God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to panic you. I didn’t think. The message came in during the shift change at seven and they forgot to give it to you.” She paused. “How is Michael?”
“Sometimes terrible. Sometimes okay.” She tried to smile. “But all the time wonderful.”
Kathy nodded. “Yes, he is.”
“But in five years I’ll probably be pulling my hair out like you’re doing.” She changed the subject. “So who left the message?”
“It’s from Gerald Kennett again. Aren’t you going to call him back?”
“No.” She checked Elspeth’s meds. Allergies?
“Sophie, it wouldn’t hurt you to talk to him. He offered you a job that will pay you more in a month than you make in a year here at the university. And he might even up the salary since he keeps after you. I’d jump at it.”
“Then you call him back. I like my work here and the people I work with. I don’t want to have to answer to any pharmaceutical company.”
“You worked for one before.”
“When I first got out of medical school. It was a big mistake. I thought they’d free me up to do research full time. It didn’t happen. I’m better off doing the research in my spare time.” She circled one of the medications on Elspeth’s chart. “And I’ve learned more dealing with people here than I’d ever learn in a lab.”
“Like Elspeth.” Kathy’s gaze was on the baby. “She’s stirring.”
“Yes, she’s been in nREM for the last five minutes. She’s almost there.” She put down the chart and headed for the adjoining door to the test room. “I’ve got to get in there and remove those wires before she’s fully awake. She’ll be scared if she wakes up alone.”
“When’s her mother supposed to get here?”
“Six.”
“Against the rules. Parents are to pick up their children promptly at the end of the session and this one ends at five-thirty.”
“Screw the rules. At least she cares enough about the kid to have the tests. I don’t mind staying.”
“I know,” Kathy said. “You’re the one who’s going to have the night terrors if you don’t stop exhausting yourself.”
Sophie made the sign to ward off demons. “Don’t even talk about it. Send Elspeth’s mom in as soon as she gets here, will you?”
Kathy chuckled. “Scared you.”
“Yes, you did. There’s nothing scarier than night terrors. Believe me, I know.” She went into Elspeth’s room and went over to the bed. It took only a few minutes to remove the wires and then she sat down on the bed beside her. The little girl had dark hair like her mother and her skin was a silky olive now flushed with sleep. Sophie felt a familiar melting as she gazed at her. “Elspeth,” she called softly. “Come back to us, sweetheart. You won’t be sorry. We’ll talk and I’ll read you a story and we’ll wait for your mama …”
She should get back to work, Kathy thought as she looked through the glass at Elspeth and Sophie. Sophie had picked the baby up and wrapped her in a blanket, and was sitting down in the rocking chair with the baby on her lap. She was talking and rocking the child and her expression was soft and glowing and loving.
Kathy had heard other doctors describe Sophie as brilliant and intuitive. She had a double doctorate in medicine and chemistry and was one of the best sleep therapists in the country. But Kathy liked this Sophie best. The one who effortlessly seemed to be able to reach out and touch her patients. Even Kathy’s son had responded to that warmth the one time he’d met her. And Don was definitely a hard sell. Of course, the fact that Sophie was blonde, tall, and slim and bore a vague resemblance to Kate Hudson probably had a lot to do with her son’s admiration. He wasn’t into the maternal types. Unless Madonna was the one on the album covers.
But Sophie didn’t look like Madonna anymore than she did the statue of the Holy Virgin. In this moment she was very human and full of love.
And strength. Sophie would have had to be strong to be able to endure the hell she had gone through in the last few years. She deserved a break. Kathy wished she’d take the Kennett job, scoop up the big bucks, and forget about responsibility.
Then she shook her head as she glanced at Sophie’s expression again. Sophie couldn’t shunt responsibility, not with this baby and not with Michael. It wasn’t in her nature.
Hell, maybe Sophie was right. Maybe the money wasn’t as important as the payback she was g
etting in there with that kid.
* * *
Bye, Kathy.” Sophie waved as she headed for the elevator. “See you.”
“Not if you have any sense. I’m on night duty all this month. Did you find any cause for the increase in apnea?”
“I’m changing one of the meds. It’s mostly trial and error at Elspeth’s age.” She stepped inside the elevator as the doors opened. “We just have to monitor her until she grows out of it.”
She leaned back against the wall of the elevator as the doors shut and closed her eyes. She was too tired. She should go home and forget about Sanborne.
Stop being a coward. She wasn’t going home yet.
A few minutes later she was unlocking the door of the van. She avoided looking at the gun case with the Springfield rifle in the back of the Toyota. She’d checked it earlier to make sure it was in order. Not that she really had to do it. Jock always took care of the weapons and he wouldn’t let her go with a faulty rifle. He was too much the professional.
She wished she could say the same for herself. She’d blocked the thought of Sanborne all night but she was trembling now. She leaned her head on the steering wheel for a few minutes. Get over it. It was natural that she’d feel like this. Taking a life was a terrible thing. Even a vermin like Sanborne.
She drew a deep breath, raised her head, and started the van.
Sanborne would be arriving at the facility at 7 a.m.
She had to be there waiting for him.
* * *
Run.
She heard a shout behind her.
She skidded down the slope of the hill, fell, picked herself up, and flew down the bank of the creek.
A bullet whistled by her head.
“Stop!”
Run. Keep on running.
She could hear a crashing in the brush at the top of the hill.
How many were there?
Duck into the bushes. The van was parked on the road a quarter of a mile from here. She had to lose them before she reached the van.
The branches were whipping her face as she tore through the shrubbery.
She couldn’t hear them anymore.
Yes, she could. But they sounded farther away. Maybe they’d gone in another direction.
She’d reached the van.
She jumped in the driver’s seat and threw the rifle into the back before she peeled out onto the road.
Her foot stomped on the accelerator.
Get away. It could still be okay. If they hadn’t gotten a good look at her.
If they weren’t close enough to put a bullet through her head …
Michael was screaming when Sophie came into the house an hour later.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She threw her bag down and raced down the hall.
“It’s okay.” Jock Gaven looked up when she ran into the room. “I woke him as soon as the sensor went off. He didn’t get much of it.”
“Enough.”
Michael was sitting up, panting, his thin chest heaving. She flew over to the bed and gathered him into her arms. “It’s okay, baby. It’s over,” she whispered. She rocked him back and forth. “It’s all gone.”
Michael’s arms tightened desperately around her for an instant before he pushed her away. “I know it’s okay,” he said gruffly. He drew a deep breath. “I wish you wouldn’t treat me like a kid, Mom. It makes me feel weird.”
“Sorry.” Every time she swore to herself that she wouldn’t act this emotional, but she’d been caught off guard. She cleared her throat. “I’ll watch it.” She smiled shakily. “But some people would think you were a kid. Imagine that.”
“I’ll go make you some breakfast, Michael,” Jock said as he headed for the door. “Get a move on. It’s eight.”
“Yeah.” Michael got out of bed. “Cripes, I’ve got to get ready for school. I’ll be late for the bus.”
“No hurry. I can drive you if you miss it.”
“Nah, you’re tired. I’ll make it.” He looked back over his shoulder. “How’s that little baby?”
“One episode. I think it’s one of the meds she’s on. I’m going to try to substitute.”
“Great.” He disappeared into the bathroom.
And when he closed that door, he was probably leaning against the sink and giving himself a minute to fight the nausea the terror brought. She had taught him how to do that but lately he was closing her out of the process. Perfectly natural reaction and there was no reason for her to feel hurt. Michael was ten and growing up. She was lucky they were still as close as they were.
“Mom.” Michael had stuck his head out of the bathroom, a grin lighting his thin face. “I lied. It doesn’t really make me feel weird. I just thought maybe it should.”
He was gone again.
Warmth and overpowering love poured through her as she headed for the kitchen.
“Nice kid.” Jock was standing at the counter. “Guts, too.”
She nodded.
His smile faded as he looked at her. “You have a scratch on your cheek.”
She kept her hand from flying to her face. She’d cleaned up at a gas station but there was no way to hide the scratch. She should have known Jock would notice. He noticed everything. “It’s nothing.”
His eyes were narrowed on her face. “I expected you an hour ago. Where were you?”
She didn’t answer directly. “You could have reached me if there was a problem with Michael.”
“Where were you?” he repeated. “The facility?”
She wouldn’t lie to him. She nodded jerkily. “He didn’t come. He’s shown up by seven on Tuesdays for the last three weeks. I don’t know why he didn’t come today.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Dammit, I was ready, Jock. I was going to do it.”
“You’ll never be ready.”
“You taught me. I’m ready.”
“You may kill him, but it will still tear you apart.”
“Killing didn’t tear you apart.”
He made a face. “You should have seen me a few years ago. I was a basket case.”
“All the more reason to kill Sanborne,” Sophie said. “He shouldn’t be allowed to live.”
“I agree. But you shouldn’t be the one to do it.” He paused. “You have Michael. He needs you.”
“I know that. And I’ve made arrangements with Michael’s father to take care of him if necessary. He loves him but he couldn’t take it during that first year. But Michael’s much better now.”
“He needs you.”
“Shut up, Jock. How can I …” She rubbed her aching temple and whispered, “It’s my fault. They’re still doing it. How can I let them go on?”
“MacDuff knows a lot of important people. I could ask him to call someone with your government.”
“You know I tried that. I called everyone I knew. They patted me on the head and told me that I was understandably hysterical. That Sanborne was a respected businessman and there was no proof he was the monster I said he was.” Her lips twisted. “By the time I got to the fifth bureaucratic bastard of a senator I was hysterical. I couldn’t believe they wouldn’t believe me. Yes, I could. Payoffs. All the way up the line.” She wearily shook her head. “Your MacDuff would run into the same wall. No, it has to be this way.” Her lips tightened. “And you’re wrong, it wouldn’t tear me apart. I wouldn’t let Sanborne hurt me anymore than he’s done already.”
“Then let me kill him for you. That’s a much better solution.”
Jock’s tone was casual, almost without expression, she thought. “Because it wouldn’t bother you? That’s a lie. It would bother you. You’re not that calloused.”
“Aren’t I? Do you know how many kills I’ve done?”
“No, and you don’t know either. That’s why you’re helping me.” She pressed the start button on the coffeemaker and leaned against the counter. “One of the guards saw me. Maybe more than one guard. I’m not sure.”
He stiffened. “That’s bad. Were y
ou caught on video camera?”
She shook her head. “And I was wearing a coat and my hair was tucked under a cap. I’m sure no one saw me until I started to leave and then only for a minute. It could still be okay.”
He shook his head.
“Yes, it will.” Her lips tightened. “I’ll make it work. No one’s going to call the police. Sanborne doesn’t want to call attention to anything out of the ordinary at the facility.”
“But they’ll be on the alert now.”
She couldn’t deny that. “I’ll be careful.”
Jock shook his head. “I can’t allow it,” he said gently. “Maybe MacDuff has infected me with his sense of responsibility. I killed my personal demon years ago, but I pointed you in the right direction to get Sanborne. You might never have found him if I hadn’t led you to him.”
“I’d have found him. It would have just taken me longer. Sanborne Pharmaceuticals has facilities all over the world. I would have checked every one of them.”
“And it had taken you eighteen months to get that far.”
“I couldn’t believe it. Or maybe I couldn’t accept it. It was too ugly.”
“Life can be ugly. People can be ugly.”
But Jock wasn’t ugly, she thought as she gazed at him. He was perhaps the most beautiful human being she had ever seen. He was slender, in his early twenties with fair hair and features that were completely remarkable. There was nothing effeminate about him, he was totally masculine and yet that face was … beautiful. There was no other way to describe it.
“Why are you looking at me?” Jock asked.
“You wouldn’t want to know. It would offend that manly Scottish pride of yours.” She poured herself a cup of coffee. “I had a patient last night whose name was Elspeth. That’s Scottish too, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “And did she do well?”
“I think so. I hope so. She’s a sweet little girl.”
“And you’re a good woman.” He paused. “Who’s trying to avoid an argument by changing the subject.”
“I’m not arguing. This is my battle. I pulled you into it to help me, but I’m not going to let you run any risk or accept any guilt.”