She agreed. What else could she do?
This time, though, Agent Cobb handed her a small white pill. “It’s a Valium, to help relax you, to keep you from focusing on something else that might be holding you back. Nothing more than that. You game?”
She took the Valium.
And ten minutes later, when Agent Cobb said, “Are you completely relaxed now, Becca?” she answered in an easy, light voice, “Yes, I am.”
“You’re aware of everything going on here?”
“Yes, Adam is over there staring at me as if he’d like to wrap me into a very small package and hide me inside his coat pocket.”
“What is your father doing?”
“It’s still hard for me to think of him as my father. He was dead for so very long, you know.”
“Yes, I know. But he’s here now, with you.”
“Yes. He’s sitting there wondering if he should let you continue with this. He’s afraid for me. I don’t know why. This can’t hurt me.”
“No, it can’t.”
“She’s right,” Thomas said. “But I’ll deal with it. Continue, Agent Cobb.”
Agent Cobb smiled and patted her hand. “Now, Becca, let’s go back to that night when you awoke to that prick in your arm.”
She moaned, then jerked.
“It’s all right,” Agent Cobb said quickly. “Listen to me now. He’s not here. It’s okay, you’re safe.”
“No, it’s not okay. He’ll kill him. I know he’ll kill him. What am I going to do? It’s all my fault. He’ll kill him!”
Just a slight pause, then Agent Cobb said, “You mean that he’ll kill you, Becca? You’re afraid that he injected some long-waiting poison in your arm?”
“Oh no. He’ll kill him. I’ve got to do something. Oh God.”
“Do you mean he’ll kill your father?”
“No, no. It’s Sam. He’s got Sam.” And then she started crying, deep, tearing sobs that jerked her wide awake. “Oh, no,” she said, staring at all the appalled faces. “Oh, no.”
“It’s all right, Becca,” Agent Cobb said. “You’ll be just fine now.”
Thomas said very slowly, “So that’s what McBride had to say to you. Krimakov kidnapped Sam and had McBride call the director to find you and have you call him.”
“No,” she said. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Valium, she thought. She’d just killed Sam, just killed her father, God knew who else, all because of one damned Valium.
Adam was on his feet. “Where’s your address book? I’m going to call McBride, find out what’s going on here.”
“No,” she said, jumping up to grab his arm. “No, you can’t, Adam.”
“Why the hell not?”
25
The room was dead silent.
“No, you can’t have my address book.”
“Fine. I’ll call information.” Adam walked toward the phone. “We’ve got to know exactly what’s going on here.”
Becca didn’t say another word. She ran out of the living room, grabbed her purse from the table in the entryway, and made for the front door.
“Becca! Dammit, come back here!”
She heard Adam yelling but didn’t pay any attention. She heard her father’s voice, then Special Agent Cobb’s voice. She didn’t slow. She was out on the narrow front porch before Adam reached the entryway.
She heard all of them shouting at her, running after her, but she knew she had to get away. No one else was going to die. Not Sam. Not her father. She had to stop it. She didn’t know how she was going to do it yet, but she would think of something. She should have thought of something before—maybe even been a bit on the subtle side. Yes, you fool, you should have just calmly left the living room, pretending to go upstairs or go to the bathroom, whatever. But no, she’d lost it—here she was running away with people chasing her, FBI agents everywhere. But that didn’t matter, either. She had no choice. If she could prevent it, no one else was going to die. She ran.
There were no sidewalks in this very nice neighborhood, just big lawns, thick curbs, and the road. She hit the road. She was fast, always had been since she was on the track team in high school. She put her head down, turned off all the voices, and ran. She felt the breath pumping in and out of her lungs, felt herself filling with energy, with power, expanding, moving faster, faster. Her feet in Nikes were unbeatable.