Fugitive Spy Read online

  “Thy will be done. How could it not be God’s will for your memory to return?”

  Casper took his olive green plastic cup and sipped his water slowly. He didn’t know if he had the wherewithal at this point in time to have a theological discussion. “God’s will is what I strive for. Sometimes God doesn’t give us the things we want so He can show us His presence in our lives.”

  Ashley scooped another ravioli, remaining silent for a few minutes. “How else will we find the clues we need unless you can remember who is after you and why?”

  Casper shrugged. “I don’t know, Ashley. I can only take the next step that is in front of me. When I was doing my medical training, it always seemed to be the ER types who wanted to control chaos. The obsessive ones. What I see in working in infectious disease is that once the infection hits, we are reactionary to the process. We have an arsenal in place—we can try this and that antibiotic, but we have to wait and see how the patient progresses. Sometimes, I think God acts in this way. He gives us an obstacle and then waits to see what we do with it. Do we depend on ourselves or do we depend on Him?”

  Ashley took a few bites, seemingly considering his words. “Seems like a big cosmic game to me.”

  Casper swallowed more water as he considered her point.

  Ashley pointed to the bottles she brought from the first-aid kit to the table. “Next to the desk there is a big first-aid kit. In the bottom were these antibiotics.”

  No further discussion on God was on the table.

  Casper eyed the labels and popped open the top of one, shuffling the pills inside. “These are common for treating certain biological agents. Anthrax and tularemia.”

  “I’ve never seen a case of tularemia even though it’s supposed to be present in the Rocky Mountain region.”

  “It’s probably not the most sought-after biological weapon, but it looks like your father was planning for several contingencies.”

  “Did you check the expiration dates on this can of ravioli?” Ashley asked.

  “Of course. I’m an infectious disease doctor. Botulism is something I definitely don’t want to contract. Does it taste funny to you?”

  Ashley spooned the last bite into her mouth. Evidently not. She’d eaten the whole bowl and was now chasing the green beans with her spoon. She smiled. “No. In fact, it’s the best thing I’ve tasted in a long time.”

  “Stress and hunger will do that to you,” Casper said, finishing the last bite of his green beans. “What else did you find?”

  “Enough supplies to treat a fairly decent medical emergency. IV supplies. Fluids even.”

  That intrigued Casper. It wasn’t that a doctor shouldn’t be prepared, but it was rare to carry supplies to start a field IV. From the looks of the interior of the cabin, someone hadn’t been here in a while—a year perhaps seemed reasonable, but it also didn’t look like the cabin had been abandoned for decades, either.

  “Are the fluids expired?” Casper asked.

  “I didn’t check.”

  “I think we should rummage through this cabin and put some supplies in the car to take with us,” Casper said.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “About what?”

  “About the expiration date on the fluids.”

  “I’m just trying to determine a time frame for when Russell might have been here. A bag of IV fluids is good for a couple of years.”

  “So he could have dropped by in the last year or so,” Ashley said.

  “Yes, probably—sometime after his disappearance two years ago?”

  Ashley smoothed her tongue over her teeth. “You’re remembering more?”

  Quick change of topic. She was astute, that was for sure. “Through school. It’s like the tape of my life is being played by my memory in forward motion. I still don’t know how I met your father, or what we were doing when that photo was taken. Seemingly, whatever work he was involved in deals with biological weapons.”

  “Where do we go next?” Ashley asked.

  “I think we need to take a look at all the clues your father sent you.”

  Ashley got up from the table to retrieve the package. When she turned away, Casper placed four Oreo cookies on her plate.

  When she returned, she almost seemed entranced by the treats. “Where did you get these?”

  “In the cabinet. I tried a few and I haven’t died yet.”

  “This whole cabin is strange for me. My father stocked it with all my favorite things.” Ashley grabbed a cookie and held it up. “With these, he always insisted on eating the center first.”

  Casper smiled. “Well, he was a smart man. Seems to be the way I like Oreos, too.”

  He watched her as she enjoyed the treat. It amazed him how people could enjoy the simple things in life even in the midst of a crisis. After eating her cookies, she was unusually quiet, as if considering a course of action.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked. “You seem to be mulling something over.”

  “I just feel like we’re operating in the dark. I don’t even know what our next step is going to be.”

  “I saw a radio in one of the cabinets. Let’s turn it on. After that, we’ll do a more thorough analysis of the items your father sent you.”

  * * *

  Ashley held her breath as Casper turned the dial. Even in the middle of the woods they were able to find an AM radio station. They listened through the droll of news and weather when a local shock jock started the hour with what he termed his mystery of the week.

  Of which Ashley was at the top of the list.

  “Colorado State Police are on the hunt for an Aurora-based emergency room physician by the name of Ashley Drager. They’re not claiming she’s armed and dangerous, but I honestly don’t know what you’d consider her after the trail of mayhem she’s left behind.”

  Every bit of strength Ashley had been holding on to leached from her body. Casper laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and eased her onto the torn, fractured leather love seat. He held the radio as he sat next to her. Another sign her father had likely been to the cabin in the last couple of years—the batteries to the radio still worked. Casper placed the radio on his lap. A small kindness she was thankful for considering how much she was trembling.

  I save lives...and now they suspect me of being involved in harming others.

  The radio host continued, “I mean, this CCTV footage of the security guard getting shot as he tries to stop her from taking a patient from the hospital is pretty amazing. He’s still in critical condition. You can find the grisly scene on our web page. Doesn’t look like she fired the shot, but could be that she’s in cahoots with the person who did. Can you believe the hospital released this? We still don’t know what happened to the patient she took... The hospital is claiming patient privacy issues even though the police have released the image of this man, Casper English, in hopes of garnering information on his whereabouts.”

  Ashley’s throat dried. Her lungs burned from holding her breath at each utterance of the man’s words. At least Noah was still alive...for the time being. If they didn’t straighten this mess out—and they didn’t even know what it was—she may never be able to practice medicine again. Her father’s life seemed over...and now so would hers be.

  She began to cry. Tiredness washed over her and she leaned her head back against the couch. There could be no God in this...in ruining the life of an innocent person.

  Casper wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She rested her head against his chest. Immediately, the strength he exuded calmed her anxiety. Her breathing slowed. It was the safest she’d felt in a long time.

  “Do you want me to turn it off?” he asked.

  She shook her head. They were already in the dark. Even though this truth might be painful to hear, she had to know what she was being accused of.

&n
bsp; “First the patient, then the security guard and now she’s being implicated in the murder of one Horace Longbottom.”

  At those words, Casper gripped her shoulder tightly as her body started to shake again.

  “Security footage from a local grocery store shows Longbottom picking up the duo outside. In-store CCTV shows—can you believe this?—of all things she’s buying coffee, and then the guy ends up dead within forty-eight hours of their meeting. Men, stay away from this woman—this so-called healer. Looks like all she brings is death. Might fit the definition of a true lady killer. Notify law enforcement if you sight her, but stay a safe distance away.”

  Now it just wasn’t Jared looking for them, but law enforcement and local citizens.

  Casper turned the radio off and set it on the floor. He pulled Ashley closer with both arms and took one hand to smooth her hair.

  There was no coming back from this. She was ruined.

  “We will figure this out,” Casper tried to reassure her.

  “How?” she questioned through her tears.

  “I don’t know that. It’s not clear to me, but what is clear is that we’re in this together. I’m not going to abandon you no matter what that means for me.”

  Things like this didn’t happen to real people, and yet here she was, smack in the middle of the biggest trauma and mystery of her life. Her father disappearing had been nothing compared to this. They had painted her as a ruthless murderess.

  “What I do know is that you need rest. You’ve been taking care of me. Now it’s time for me to return the favor.” He stood up and held his hand out. She took it reluctantly as he guided her to the only bedroom with a small bathroom. He went to the bed and pulled down the log cabin quilt made with rich autumn colors by her mother’s hands. Her thoughts shifted to her mother’s safety.

  Casper eased her toward the bed until she sat down.

  “We won’t be able to think through this if we’re both exhausted. You’ve been driving all day and that is a drain on your mind.”

  “What are you going to do?” Ashley asked.

  “Spend some more time looking around the cabin and gather some stuff that might be handy in the car. Then I’ll sleep for a while on the couch. This might be the safest we are in the near term so no hurry in the morning, but we can’t stay here another full day. I think it’s too risky. Hopefully something between now and then will give us our next step.”

  Ashley watched him close the door. She stepped into the bathroom and rummaged around. When she looked under the bottom of the sink, she found all the toiletries she’d used in her childhood, still sealed. Again, nothing had expired, but it was also like her relationship with her father was frozen in time—like she was constantly the age of ten in his mind.

  She leaned against the bathroom counter and let the tears fall. How had her life gotten so wildly out of control? Paired up with a man she didn’t know and on the run for her life? Her father had seemingly sent her the clues that could save her, yet right now, they were mostly undecipherable.

  Ashley brushed her teeth with the berry-flavored glitter toothpaste and gagged at the taste. Adulthood had morphed her taste buds into something that could no longer stand the sweetness. She went back into the small bedroom. There was a desk with a laptop. She neared it. Again, not the most recent model, but purchased in the last couple of years. It wasn’t marred or dented, and when she raised the top the keys looked untouched. No food particles were present in the crevices. She looked at the side and found two USB ports, and her hand itched to insert the thumb drive into one, but fatigue overwhelmed her and ultimately she had to agree with Casper’s assessment.

  Before lying in the bed she looked out the window. There was a black box just beyond it, partially covered in snow. It seemed out of place for the woods and there was a red light that blinked every so often. Too tired to consider investigating it now, she lay down on the bed and pulled the covers over her, the faint smell of her mother’s perfume in the fabric a comfort.

  When she slept, all she dreamed about were sheep dying on a hillside.

  EIGHT

  Casper was awakened by a stream of light crossing his eyes. He blinked rapidly, disoriented, his heart racing.

  A cabin in the woods. He had a headache and he reached for his face, the bumps somewhat less prominent but the residual trauma still painful.

  Ashley.

  He looked toward the door. It was still closed. He groped for what he assumed to be something that would tell time. A watch or a cell phone—neither of which he had. The wind whistled softly through the gaps around the door. He turned on the radio and waited until they mentioned the time. Seven o’clock.

  Relief washed over him. He hadn’t slept half the day away. He wanted him and Ashley to get away from this site. Every minute could draw the assassins closer to their location. He eyed the small sidearm he’d found in one of the closets and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans as he stood up.

  Mild dizziness overtook him and he pressed his fingers to his forehead.

  A memory thrust forward in his mind. He remembered first meeting Ashley’s father.

  So they did know one another on a personal level. The recollection was no more than a flash, but it was also comforting. Casper had been reaching across a patient’s bed, the beginning of his infectious disease fellowship, and had shook hands with Dr. Russell Drager.

  The thought faded. Another retelling of his life in slow motion. He tried to recall any details of the anamnesis that might help him in his current situation...and nothing.

  He’d stayed up perhaps two hours after Ashley had gone to bed, scouring the cabin for anything that might help them: a first-aid kit, various food items and several gallons of water. It was hard to predict where this road would take them next, but he wanted to plan for as many different contingencies as possible.

  Another thing he found—a CDC badge with his credentials. Had he worked for the Centers for Disease Control? Was it a fake?

  Regardless, he’d stowed it in the car, as well. It could prove useful.

  Straightening his clothes, he approached Ashley’s door and knocked softly. To his surprise, she was awake and called for him to come in. He found her standing in front of the computer in the room. She looked at him sheepishly and he took two more steps inside.

  “I haven’t been completely honest with you,” she said, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans.

  At first, his chest clenched with disappointment, but then how could he blame her? Her father was missing under mysterious circumstances. She didn’t know Casper, truly. He could be as dangerous as the men who chased them. But something in her body language, in her eyes and the way she looked at him had changed—perhaps softened was the better term. Less guarded. Like maybe she was venturing forward with a small modicum of trust.

  “It’s okay. It’s not hard for me to understand why.”

  She studied him and it was hard for him not to admire just how pretty she was. Her hair was slightly tousled from sleep, but her eyes were clear, strikingly blue, just like the waters off Belize where he’d scuba dived once on college spring break.

  “I want to show you something.”

  She beckoned him to the other side of the bed to the small window that looked out onto the west side of the property. It was a black box, hope chest size. Looked newish, but essentially undisturbed. There weren’t any footprints around it. In the shade of the cabin he could see a red light blinking.

  “You’ve not seen it before?” he asked her.

  “No, but I haven’t been here since I was young. Like elementary school. What do you think it could be?” she asked.

  “I have no idea. A storage bin? Guess we should go take a look in it before we leave. Seems strange...out of place, but it hasn’t killed us yet.”

  Ashley paused and looked at him strangely. />
  “That’s not funny.”

  “What?”

  “You’re forecasting,” Ashley said.

  “As in the weather?”

  “No. You’re doing what patients do. They’ll say something ominous yet with a sense of humor, but inside they’re scared about it. Oftentimes, the thing they joked about comes true. Such as, ‘Well, it hasn’t killed me yet.’ And then that’s exactly what happens.”

  Casper didn’t know what to say. Was he subconsciously worried about the bin?

  She tossed something small and plastic onto the desk. A thumb drive. “This is the last thing my father sent to me. It arrived the same day you did.”

  He neared it and picked it up, fingering it, almost hoping the information would transfer automatically to his mind. This seemed like the obvious next step, to put this drive into the computer and see what it held, but he was nervous. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where this feeling was coming from, but it felt intuitive. Still, what choice did they have? Neither of them really knew where to go next.

  “I think we should see what’s on it.”

  “Me, too,” she agreed and took it from his hand, her fingertips soft against his calloused skin.

  Ashley turned the computer on and they waited until the desktop icons were present. She inserted the thumb drive and Casper’s stomach gnawed at his insides while he waited for the computer to recognize the drive.

  Up on the screen came an image of a black skull dripping blood.

  Needles of fear zipped through Casper’s body. He raced to the window, where the red flashing light was now a solid green.

  “It’s a trap!” he yelled and raced back to the computer. He grabbed the thumb drive and the stack of photos as he reached for Ashley’s hand and made moves to extract her from the cabin.

  She resisted him. “Casper, wait.”

  “No, I mean it. Run!”

  He pulled her behind him as he broke into a sprint toward the front door. Her footsteps faltered behind him, as if she questioned if they were in any danger.