Tess Gerritsen - Whistleblower

“Ollie will drive you to the airport. I’ve asked him to buy you the ticket under his name-Mrs. Wozniak. He’ll have to be the one to see you off. We thought it’d be safer if I didn’t come along to the airport.”

“Of course.”

“That’ll get you to Mexico. Ollie’ll give you enough cash to keep you going for a while. Enough to get you anywhere you want to go from there. Baja. Acapulco. Or just hang around with Jack if you think that’s best.”

“Jack.” She turned away, unwilling to show her tears. “Right.”

“Cathy.” She felt his hand on her shoulder, as though he wanted to turn her toward him, to pull her back one last time into his arms. She refused to move.

Footsteps approached. They both glanced around to see Ollie, standing a few feet away. “Ready to go?” he asked.

There was a long silence. Then Victor nodded. “She’s ready.”

“Uh, look,” Ollie mumbled, suddenly aware that he’d stepped in at a bad time. “My car’s over by the boathouse. If you want, I can, uh, wait for you there…”

Cathy furiously dashed away her tears. “No,” she said with sudden determination. “I’m coming.”

Victor stood watching her, his gaze veiled by some cool, impenetrable mist.

“Goodbye, Victor,” she said.

He didn’t answer. He just kept looking at her through that terrible mist.

“If I-if I don’t see you again…” She stopped, struggling to be just as brave, just as invulnerable. “Take care of yourself,” she finished. Then she turned and followed Ollie down the path.

Through the car window, she glimpsed Victor, still standing on the lake path, his hands jammed in his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the wind. He didn’t wave goodbye; he merely watched them drive away.

It was an image she’d carry with her forever, that last, fading view of the man she loved. The man who’d sent her away.

As Ollie turned the car onto the road, she sat stiff and silent, her fists balled in her lap, the pain in her throat so terrible she could scarcely breathe. Now he was behind them. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was still standing there, as unmoving as the oaks that surrounded him. I love you, she thought. And I will never see you again.

She turned to look out. He was a distant figure now, almost lost among the trees. In a gesture of farewell, she reached up and gently touched the window.

The glass was cold.

“I have to stop off at the lab,” said Ollie, turning into the hospital parking lot. “I just remembered I left the checkbook in my desk. Can’t get you a plane ticket without it.”

Cathy nodded dully. She was still in a state of shock, still trying to accept the fact that she was now on her own. That Victor had sent her away.

Ollie pulled into a stall marked Reserved, Wozniak. “This’ll only take a sec.”

“Shall I come in with you?”

“You’d better wait in the car. I work with a very nosy bunch. They see me with a woman and they want to know everything. Not that there’s ever anything to know.” He climbed out and shut the door. “Be right back.”

Cathy watched him stride away and vanish into a side entrance. She had to smile at the thought of Ollie Wozniak squiring around a woman-any woman. Unless it was someone with a Ph. D. who could sit through his scientific monologues.

A minute passed.

Outside, a bird screeched. Cathy glanced out at the trees lining the hospital driveway and spotted the jay, perched among the lower branches. Nothing else moved, not even the leaves.

She leaned back and closed her eyes.

Too little sleep, too much running, had taken its toll. Exhaustion settled over her, so profound she thought she would never again be able to move her limbs. A beach, she thought. Warm sand. Waves washing at my feet…

The jay’s cry cut off in mid-screech. Only vaguely did Cathy register the sudden silence. Then, even through her half sleep, she sensed the shadowing of the window, like a cloud passing before the sun.

She opened her eyes. A face was staring at her through the glass.

Panic sent her lunging for the lock button. Before she could jam it down, the door was wrenched open. A badge was thrust up to her face.

“FBI!” the man barked. “Out of the car, please.”

Slowly Cathy emerged, to stand weak-kneed against the door. Ollie, she thought, her gaze darting toward the hospital entrance. Where are you? If he appeared, she had to be ready to bolt, to flee across the parking lot and into the woods. She doubted the man with the badge would be able to keep up; his stubby legs and thick waist didn’t go along with a star athlete.

But he must have a gun. If I bolt, would he shoot me in the back?

“Don’t even think about it, Miss Weaver,” the man said. He took her arm and gave her a nudge toward the hospital entrance. “Go on. Inside.”

“But-”

“Dr. Wozniak’s waiting for us in the lab.”

Waiting didn’t exactly describe Ollie’s predicament. Bound and trussed would have been a better description. She found Ollie bent over double in his office, handcuffed to the foot of his desk, while three of his lab colleagues stood by gaping in amazement.

“Back to work, folks,” said the agent as he herded the onlookers out of the office. “Just a routine matter.” He shut the door and locked it. Then he turned to Cathy and Ollie. “I have to find Victor Holland,” he said. “And I have to find him fast.”

“Man,” Ollie muttered into his chest. “This guy sounds like a broken record.”

“Who are you?” demanded Cathy.

“The name’s Sam Polowski. I work out of the San Francisco office.” He pulled out his badge and slapped it on the desk. “Take a closer look if you want. It’s official.”

“Uh, excuse me?” called Ollie. “Could I maybe, possibly, get into a more comfortable position?”

Polowski ignored him. His attention was focused on Cathy. “I don’t think I need to spell it out for you, Miss Weaver. Holland’s in trouble.”

“And you’re one of his biggest problems,” she retorted.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Polowski moved closer, his gaze unflinching, his voice absolutely steady. “I’m one of his hopes. Maybe his only hope.”

“You’re trying to kill him.”

“Not me. Someone else, someone who’s going to succeed. Unless I can stop it.”

She shook her head. “I’m not stupid! I know about you. What you’ve been trying to-”

“Not me. The other guy.” He reached for the telephone on the desk. “Here,” he said, holding the receiver out to her. “Call Milo Lum. Ask him what happened at his house this morning. Maybe he’ll convince you I’m on your side.”

Cathy stared at the man, wondering what sort of game he was playing. Wondering why she was falling for it. Because I want so much to believe him.

“He’s alone out there,” said Polowski. “One man trying to buck the U.S. government. He’s new to the game. Sooner or later he’s going to slip, do something stupid. And that’ll be it.” He dialed the phone for her and again held out the receiver. “Go on. Talk to Lum.”

She heard the phone ring three times, followed by Milo’s answer “Hello? Hello?”

Slowly she took the receiver. “Milo?”

“Is that you? Cathy? God, I was hoping you’d call-”

“Listen, Milo. I need to ask you something. It’s about a man named Polowski.”

“I’ve met him.”

“You have? ” She looked up and saw Polowski nodding.

“Lucky for me,” said Milo. “The guy’s got the charm of an old shoe but he saved my life. I don’t know what Gersh was talking about. Is Gersh around? I have to-”

“Thanks, Milo,” she murmured. “Thanks a lot.” She hung up.