Iris Johansen - Dark Summer

"And?"

"Some kind of text came up, but it was all screwy."

"Screwy?"

"It's as if the chip was for another dog. Even the name is different. Not Ned. It's Paco."

"It must have been a tech error when they entered the information."

"I'll say. They've got everything wrong. Name. Date of birth, and the rest of the text isn't even in English."

"Really? Do you still have it up on the computer?"

"Sure, I thought you might want to see it." He went to the shelf and pressed the button. "There it is."

Devon frowned as she stared at the text message. It was long, and Hugh was right, it was completely bewildering. It had to be in another language, but she couldn't identify which one.

She had a memory of Marrok's words soothing Ned. She hadn't been able to decide what language he'd been speaking either. "Print it out for me before you blow it away, will you?"

"Okay, but I don't know why you'd want it. As I said, it's screwy." He lifted the Lab down from the table. "We'll have to make him a new one if you decide to keep him."

She nodded absently. "Yes, we'll do that." She looked down at Ned. "Well, are you ready to go out to the reception desk to meet and greet?"

Ned trotted toward the door.

"Smart," Hugh said. "If you don't want him, I might be persuaded to take him."

It seemed Ned was very much in demand. "You like him?"

"What's not to like? He's smart, and I have an idea he's a man's dog. Might to might."

"That's a chauvinist thing to say. Women aren't mighty?"

"Am I in trouble?"

"Maybe."

"Come on, Devon," Hugh coaxed. "Give him to me. You don't want a rickety old dog like that."

"Old? You're crazy."

Hugh chuckled. "Yep. But it's not me, it's that microchip." He headed for the door. "Completely nuts. The only part of the chip I could read was the line for the birth date at the beginning-5/13/82."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"I know. Told you so." He left the examining room.

Devon shook her head. Hugh was right. The tech that had made up that chip must have been stoned. The life of a big dog like Ned was only in the teens. The chip would have put him close to thirty years old.

"Come on, Grandpa," she told Ned. "Your audience awaits. I saw a cute husky pup out there you can impress."

THERE WASN'T ANYONEin the woods.

Fraser breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't great in the forest like Marrok, but he would surely have been able to catch a sound, a glimpse, if someone had been here. He'd done his duty and now he could go back to the farm house, where he felt more comfortable. Bridget was wrong, and he shouldn't have let her spook him.

Though she never meant to do that, and he'd a hell of a lot rather she spoke up than keep those creepy feelings to herself. She'd saved his neck a couple times in the last three years he'd been working for Marrok. It still wigged him out, but he accepted it better now than-

A tearing pain in his shoulder.

A bullet. My God, he'd barely heard it. A silencer…

Run.

He could see the two men bursting through the bushes ahead of him.

Turn around and run.

They mustn't catch him.

Marrok had said that was the worse thing that could happen to him.

Another slicing pain in his back.

Keep running.

Find a place to hide.

Or get to the farmyard where someone would see him.

They were behind him, running fast.

And he was slowing, stumbling…

Faster…

The blood was flowing, spurting…

Don't let them-

"SHE'S NOT AT THE FARM,"Rachoff said, when Caswell answered. "She got into a van with the dog just as we got here. You said to try to be discreet, so I had a man follow her and report back to me. She went to a veterinary clinic in one of those strip shopping centers and hasn't come out. Shall we wait here until she comes back?"

Caswell thought about it. "It would probably be safer than taking a chance in a public place."

"It would be my choice." He hesitated. "But we had to put down someone who was snooping around the woods. One of Marrok's people?"

"Any ID?"

"Nothing connected with Marrok."

But if Marrok had men already at the farm to protect the Brady woman, then they'd have to move faster than anticipated.

"Forget about being safe. Go get her."

FRASER WASN'T ANSWERINGhis phone.

Not good. Marrok had tried to reach him twice on the plane when he hadn't checked back in with him. He'd called a third time once he'd reached the ground.

Marrok strode out of the airport and jumped into the rental car.

He got the call from Bridget when he was pulling out of the parking lot.

"Something's wrong." Bridget's voice was shaking. "Something bad."

"Take it easy. Do you know what it is?"

"Something's… gone."

Shit.

"Look, hold on, Bridget. I'll take care of it."

"Too late. It's already started. Fraser…"

"We don't know that yet. And if it is, we have to keep it from getting worse. I'm on my way to Devon Brady's office right now. I'm pulling her out."

"And I'm going to that farm to find Fraser."

"No," he said sharply. He didn't want Bridget blundering into Danner's hands if he'd already made his move.

"Don't tell me no," she said fiercely. "I worked with Fraser for three years. He's been as close to a friend as I've had here. I owe it to him."

"You don't owe it to him to get yourself killed."

"I'm going."

"Okay." Try to get something positive out of this since he couldn't convince her. "But take a team and try to get the housekeeper and Nicholas Gilroy out of there before you go looking for Fraser. Will you do that for me?"

Silence. "Yes."

She'd agreed too easily, Marrok thought. Because in her heart, she believed it was too late for Fraser. "Good. Keep in touch."

"Marrok."

"Yes."

"Hurry. Devon Brady's office, the clinic. It's not safe there either." She hung up the phone.

Marrok muttered a curse as he punched in the number Walt had given him for Nick Gilroy.

"Gilroy, you've never met me. My name is Jude Marrok."

"No, but I've heard about you. Devon is very irritated with the way you-"

"Where are you? Have you gone back to the farm yet?"

"How did you know that I-"

"Are you at the farm?"

"No, I'm filling up my gas tank at the BP station."

"Good. Stay there."

"Can't do it. I have to find that damn don-"

"You'll not find the donkey. Stay where you are. Don't go back to the farm. Devon is going to meet you. She'll call you when she's on her way." He hung up.

He doubted if Gilroy would obey him, but he'd probably call Devon, and that might delay his going back to the farm. Bridget would move fast, but he needed all the time he could muster.

He phoned Devon Brady. "Get my dog out of that office. Close up and send everyone home."

"I beg your pardon." Devon's voice was icy.

"Lock the doors. I'll be there in five or ten minutes, but you can't take a chance I'll be in time. Get out of there."

"I've no intention of doing anything you order me to do. I have appointments that-"

"Then get Ned out of there. He's the draw that will make them come after you."

"Who are you talking about? Who's coming-"

"Stop asking questions and get my dog away from there. I don't want him shot again." His voice lowered, and every word came out charged with intensity. "And I don't want anyone else shot either. I'm not crazy, and I'm not joking."

"Shot?"

"That's what's going to happen. I hoped we'd have more time, but I think they're on their way. They have their orders, and they won't care who they have to kill to get what they want."

"Dammit, who's supposed to be on the way? The man who shot Ned?"