chapter 17
Reid Sheridan didn’t wait to be invited in. When Amber opened the door, he waltzed across the threshold as if he belonged inside her home. The smile splitting his face turned into a scowl when he noticed Gerard.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Sheridan narrowed his gaze, his hand going for the gun he normally wore under his suit jacket. But Sheridan wasn’t wearing a suit. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt. Casual wear. For what seemed like a casual visit.
Jealousy burned a hole in Gerard’s gut. He stepped closer. “I was invited. Were you?”
Amber moved between them. “Enough.” She cast a reproving look over her shoulder at Gerard before turning to Sheridan. “What are you doing here, Reid? It’s after eleven.”
“I dropped off my date a few blocks from here and was headed home. I saw your lights and thought I’d stop by.” He nudged her aside, stepping in front of her as if staking his claim.
The fury burned hotter. Gerard’s gums tingled. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to show his fangs. He leaned forward. Amber elbowed him in the gut.
“The alpha dog routine doesn’t impress me,” she snapped when he grunted. “And you.” She pointed to Sheridan. “Back off. Gerard’s a guest in my home.”
“He’s a murder suspect,” Sheridan snarled.
“No. He’s not. He’s been working with me on the case.”
Sheridan looked as if she’d shot his dog. His face fell. “What?”
With an exasperated huff, Amber turned and closed the door. Tension radiated across her shoulders and down her spine. Gerard saw it in the stiffness of her movements. Felt it in his gut.
Turning slowly, she faced her partner. “Gerard gave me the name of a viable suspect. Dr. Steve Weldon. He used to work at Baldwin Labs.”
“Tina Gallagher worked with him at Baldwin.”
“Exactly.”
Sheridan didn’t look impressed. “He was never a suspect.”
Amber glanced at Gerard, asking with her eyes how much to share. He took pity on her and told Sheridan about Colonel Timmons—leaving out the vampire angle.
“He was supposed to supervise medical research to improve a soldier’s endurance in the field,” Amber added. “But the army never sanctioned cloning or some of the other unethical experiments that went on at Baldwin. When the military found out, they closed the facility and arrested the colonel for misappropriation of funds.”
Gerard added details about the money Weldon had taken from the Cayman Islands account. “Amber thinks he’s using it to continue Timmons’s research.”
Before turning back to Sheridan, Amber gave Gerard a smile that hit him like a bucket of sunshine tossed into the darkness of his soul. His heart thumped.
“Weldon blames Dr. Harper, and in turn, Vincent and Gerard for putting a stop to the experiments,” she said. “I think the attack at Lifeblood was aimed at them. Tina Gallagher and Richard Baxter were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“How are they responsible for ending the experiments?” Sheridan sneered when he looked at Gerard.
Gerard met his challenging stare. He could use glamour if he wanted, but why bother when facts would suffice? Or at least, the recorded facts. “Megan and Tina left Baldwin when they realized Weldon was performing illegal experiments. When Vincent and I found out, we informed Senator Sherman Jackson. Sherm is head of the Senate Oversight Committee. Lifeblood of America was a major contributor to his re-election campaign. After Timmons’ was court-martialed, Weldon took off with the money. He’s been on the run ever since.”
Sheridan frowned. “If Weldon’s a fugitive, he should be in the system.” He looked at Amber. “Have you run his plates? Or checked for activity on his credit card? I’m sure the Feds would be interested in exchanging information if they knew Weldon was a murder suspect.”
“They’d just take over our case,” she said, avoiding eye contact.
Guilt flushed Gerard’s skin. Amber wasn’t concerned about the FBI taking over her case. She was protecting him. A vampire. At the expense of her own integrity.
His heart twisted.
“Weldon’s good,” he said. “He didn’t leave a trail—paper or electronic.” If he had, Sonia would have uncovered it.
Sheridan pinned Amber with hurt eyes. “Even if you weren’t ready to share your suspicions with Captain Stratford, you should have shared them with me. I’m your partner. You should’ve kept me in the loop.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just…” She swallowed hard and took a steady breath. “I don’t have facts. Just theories.”
“Then let’s put some of those theories to the test. Run ’em by me.”
Brushing past Gerard, he headed toward Amber’s living room. She cast Gerard an apologetic glance and rushed to catch up.
“It’s just ideas Gerard and I have been bouncing around since he told me about Weldon.”
Sheridan sat in front of her computer and looked at the monitor. A list of links from Amber’s search of “abandoned US hospitals” filled the screen. “You think he’s opened a lab in an abandoned hospital?”
“It’s one theory,” Amber said as she sat in the chair Gerard had brought in from the kitchen. He stepped behind her and placed his hands on top of the chair.
Sheridan grunted in response and opened one of the links. “You rule out this abandoned hospital in South Carolina?”
“Yes,” Amber said with a sigh. “We think he’s still in North Carolina.”
“How do you know?” Sheridan turned, meeting her gaze. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I—” She glanced helplessly up at Gerard.
Emotion cramped his throat.
Giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, he said, “Lifeblood’s IT specialist, Sonia Dalca, learned that Dr. Weldon got a homeless man in Raleigh to make contact with Timmons. It makes sense that he’s somewhere in that area.”
Skeptical eyes met his. Sheridan grunted again. “Sonia Dalca’s your IT specialist? Funny how that was never mentioned before now.” He looked at Amber. “Maybe we need to pay Colonel Timmons a visit.”
“He’s dead.” Gerard smiled at Sheridan’s shocked expression. “He committed suicide in his cell about a week ago.”
“Well, Timmons was never a suspect anyway,” Sheridan said, turning back to the monitor. He hit the back button and chose another hospital from the list that appeared on the screen. “What about John Umstead Psychiatric Hospital in Butner? That’s close to Raleigh.”
Amber leaned forward, reading the caption beneath the picture. “Most of the patients were moved to Central Regional Hospital in 2008, but it looks like they’re still using some of the buildings. Weldon would want a facility that’s completely abandoned.”
Reid opened another link. “What about the Old Davis Hospital in Statesville?”
Amber sat up straighter. Gerard felt her excitement as she leaned toward the monitor. “Scroll down. I need to see those pictures.”
Sheridan clicked through the haunting images. A broken skylight illuminated a shadowy stairwell with rusted rails. Crumbling plaster flaked from the walls and water damage in the lab left mossy green streaks. Vines growing inside the room from a busted window made it appear as if nature was invading to reclaim the property. The abandoned centrifuge and scattered bits of broken lab equipment added to the horror movie effect.
“The basement’s flooded and there’s too much damage.” Her voice seemed to fade. Her body swayed.
Sheridan turned to face her. “What about right here in Asheville? There’s an abandoned VA hospital and several private sanatoriums that are no longer in use.”
“Too close. I’d know if he were close.” Her eyes drifted shut. Her body jolted upright in the chair.
Gerard leaned forward, placing his lips next to her ear. “You sense something. Don’t you?”
She’d sent out mental feelers and had apparently gotten a psychic “hit” on the clone’s location.
Sheridan sprang to his feet, glaring down at Amber as if she’d betrayed him. “What the hell’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Sit down and pick another hospital, Sheridan,” Gerard said. He touched Amber’s shoulder. The contact sent an electric tingle up his arm. Brief images flashed through his mind.
Touching Amber while she was in such a trance-like state enabled him to see through his clone’s eyes and share the mental images with her. Maintaining the connection was difficult. Speaking took supreme concentration. “Look for abandoned sanatoriums in western North Carolina.”
“Western Sanatorium in Black Mountain,” Sheridan said between clenched teeth. “Or how about Space Mountain in Disney World?”
Amber’s eyes snapped open. Her body shook. Gerard smoothed his palms over her shoulders and down her arms to her elbows. The trembling ceased.
“Not Black Mountain,” she said, her voice almost a monotone. His connection was broken, but Amber was still honed in to the clone’s location.
Had his touch increased her abilities as they had his? Had it allowed her to connect with the vampire who shared his DNA?
Fear twisted his gut. Was the clone aware of the connection?
“Amber, what do you see?” he asked, trying to keep the urgency from his voice.
“A basement,” she whispered.
“A basement lab?”
“No. A walk-in freezer in a hospital cafeteria.”
Sheridan grabbed Amber by the arms and dragged her to her feet. Gerard shoved against his chest, lifting him off the floor to send him sailing backwards across the room. He flipped over the back of the sofa, bounced off the seat cushions and landed in the floor between the couch and the coffee table.
“Stop.” Amber punched Gerard’s chest. His heart jumped. Then she ran around to the front of the sofa and helped Sheridan to his feet.
Sheridan rubbed his chest. “What the f—”
“He didn’t mean it. Gerard sometimes acts without thinking,” Amber said in his defense.
It was actually more of an insult but that didn’t stop Gerard’s heart from skipping a beat. Damphir or not, she was trying to protect him.
Nurture over nature? Either way, Amber made her own choices.
Sheridan gave Amber a curious look before glaring at Gerard. “Somebody better tell me what the hell’s going on real damn fast or I’m calling the station.”
“No. Don’t. Please,” Amber said, leading Sheridan back to the computer as if he were an invalid. She placed him in the kitchen chair while she sat in the more comfortable computer chair. She swiveled toward him. “We have a lead in the case but we need background information before presenting our evidence.”
Sheridan wasn’t born yesterday. Amber’s excuse was flimsy at best. At worst? Stupide.
Real stupid.
“Why are you doing this, Amber? Why the secrecy? If you had evidence or even a real theory about the case, you’d share it. So, what’s going on?”
Her gaze slid to the floor. “Trust me, Reid. You don’t want to know.”
“The hell I don’t.” He rose to his feet again, once more turning his hostile gaze on Gerard. “What’s going on, Delaroche?”
“Be careful what you ask for,” he said with an unavoidable smirk.
Amber sprang to her feet, her expression desperate. “Go home, Gerard. Let me talk to Reid alone. You’re only making matters worse.”
“Damn it, Amber,” Sheridan snapped. “What the hell is going on?”
Gerard felt her pain. Her confusion. And he sensed Sheridan’s concern. The man might be an ass, but he cared for Amber. And if she insisted on going after Weldon and the clone at noon, she was going to need Sheridan’s help.
As much as Gerard didn’t want to reveal the truth, he didn’t have a choice. Amber’s life could very well depend on her partner knowing the facts—all the facts.
“You might want to sit back down for this, Sheridan.”
Amber paled. “Don’t you dare, Gerard. I’ll handle this in my own way.”
He met her panic-stricken gaze. “He’s your partner. He needs to know. It could very well mean the difference in your living or dying.” His safety meant nothing when compared to Amber’s.
“And what about you? Don’t put yourself in danger. I won’t have it.”
He kissed her forehead and met Sheridan’s narrowed gaze over the top of her head. “If you trust Sheridan, then I trust him.”
“I don’t trust him not to shoot you with my gun,” she grumbled, pulling back to look into his eyes.
Gerard chuckled and then winked. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been shot with that gun.”
“Not funny, Frenchie.”
Sheridan folded his arms over his chest. “Are the two of you drunk?”
“Vampires don’t get drunk,” Gerard said, smiling at Sheridan’s quirked mouth and annoyed gaze. Then he flashed his fangs and watched the color drain from Sheridan’s cheeks.