CHAPTER 12

It was just after ten o’clock when Tony and Libby pulled up the narrow gravel road that led to Jasper Higgens’s wooded retreat. The two-hour drive had been accomplished mostly in silence, but it had been a companionable one. They’d had to stop and ask for directions three times, and both were intensely aware that at any moment the powerful sports car could roar up behind them and shatter the tenuous peace.

Jasper Higgens’s lab was nothing like what Libby had expected. She’d anticipated something white, large and clinical looking. Instead they found a two-story wood-shingled rustic house that nearly blended into the heavy woods surrounding it. What neither of them had expected to find was the house tightly boarded up and deserted.

At the sight of the heavy boards on the doors and windows, Tony closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Apparently the agency handling this case has already been here and closed and locked everything up. Damn, we’ve come so far…endured so much, and for what?” His dark eyes blazed with his frustration. He banged his fist on the steering wheel.

Libby reached over and touched his arm lightly, feeling an echoing despair as she looked at the house. “I feel like Dorothy in The Wizard Of Oz,” she said dispiritedly. “We’ve followed the yellow brick road and fought off witches and goblins, and now the gates to Oz are locked and we’ll never get back to Kansas.” She looked at Tony expectantly. Strange, how in just a couple of days she had come to trust his judgment, depend on his initiative. “So, what do we do now?”

Tony sighed and gazed once again at the house, then turned and looked at the surrounding grounds. “Why don’t we take a look around? Maybe we can find something or somebody who can help us. We need to figure out how to find Jonathon Maxwell,” he explained. “If this Maxwell fellow worked closely with Higgens, then he must live someplace nearby.”

Libby nodded and together they got out of the car and approached the silent, abandoned house. As she walked up the wooden steps that led to a large veranda, she felt strange and a little sad. Jasper Higgens’s death suddenly seemed much more real as she realized this place was where the little old man had lived and worked.

Her heart constricted tightly as she saw a wicker rocking chair sitting by the boarded front door. The seat of the chair was broken in, as if it had been used many times.

She ran her hand lightly over the back of the chair, wondering how many times the scientist had sat in this very spot and viewed the beauty of the surrounding woodland. How many times had he sat here and contemplated his future, never knowing his fate was to be the victim of murder in an alley in Kansas City?

“He seems so real to me right now,” she said softly, her hand lingering on the back of the wooden chair. “This is where he lived, where he worked and loved. Being here, it brings his death so close—” She broke off and looked at Tony.

Tony offered her a sympathetic smile and placed an arm around her shoulders. “I know how you feel. I used to feel the same way whenever I had to examine a victim’s home, search through their personal belongings for clues to their murder.” He paused a moment, remembering those days as a homicide detective on the force. “I always fought to gain an emotional detachment, to view the bodies as just bodies. Yet, touching their things, prying into their lives, I could never quite forget that they were real people, with people who loved them and people they loved.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I could never quite get the emotional detachment I needed.”

“Which probably made you a better cop than nine-tenths of the men on the force,” Libby observed. She looked at him for a long moment. “You should go back to it, you know.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you’re too good to be wasting your time spying on ex-wives and chasing down lost dogs. You’re one of the good guys, and you should be chasing down bad guys for a living.” She leaned against the arm that encircled her and smiled up at him fully. She knew her love for him was there on her face for him to see, but she didn’t try to mask or hide it. She wasn’t sure she could even if she wanted to.

While she had been running through the woods earlier that morning, fearing death at any moment, and later while driving in silent solitude, she had reached a decision concerning Tony. She loved him, and although she didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, she meant to reach out and embrace every moment she shared with him. Life was much too short to worry about tomorrows and forevers.

When she and Tony got back to Kansas City and if they went their separate ways, it would hurt, but it would be a hurt that reminded her that she lived, that she loved. Until that happened, until he turned his back on her and walked away, she intended to hold nothing back. She would love him completely and with all her being. It was the only way she knew how to love.

“Come on, let’s check around back,” she said, grabbing hold of his arm. She saw the bewilderment in his dark eyes, a bewilderment tinged with fear and she knew he’d recognized the emotion on her face. “Come on,” she said, smiling up at him. “Let’s see if we can find any clues in the area.”

Tony sighed with relief as she broke her gaze and tugged him around the side of the house. For a moment her eyes had spoken to him, telling him things he didn’t want to hear, he couldn’t accept. He didn’t want her to love him. He didn’t want the responsibility of her loving him.

She’d surprised him with her talk about how he belonged back on the force. Her words had echoed a sentiment he only allowed himself to think about late at night when he was discouraged about the slow growth of his private eye business. Perhaps when he got back to the city, it was a suggestion he should consider. He’d been less than happy since leaving the force.

As they followed the veranda to the side of the house, Libby gasped with pleasure. “Oh, Tony, imagine having a view like this every day of your life,” she breathed. He nodded, awed for a moment by the panoramic scenery before them.

Tangled woods and bushy trees formed most of a yard, and beyond that, a huge, glittering lake seemed to catch the sun’s rays and reflect it back upward to the sky.

“It is beautiful,” he agreed, his gaze spying a small clearing to the left that looked to be a helicopter landing pad. He frowned thoughtfully. Why had Higgens come to Kansas City? Why had he sold the necklace? It seemed a fairly good bet that he had known his life was in danger. What in the hell was the deal with the damned necklace? What could possibly be worth his very life?

He squinted, suddenly seeing a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. “Hey!” he yelled, vaulting over the railing of the veranda and dropping the four feet to the ground below, where he took off at a run.

“Tony?”

He was vaguely aware of her following his lead, catching up with him just as he caught up with a man in blue coveralls. The man held a lawn rake defensively before him.

“We don’t mean you any harm,” Tony said softly to the middle-aged, bald man, who didn’t relinquish his hold on the rake. Rather, he tightened his grip, ready to use it as a weapon.

“You’re trespassing,” he said, his eyes sweeping over them both. Wary and suspicious, he slowly lowered the rake a fraction of an inch. “What do you want?”

“Do you work here?” Tony asked.

“I’m the gardener and handyman,” he answered. “The man who lives here is dead. Some policemen came and boarded up the house. I don’t know nothing else.”

“Do you know where we could find Jonathon Maxwell?” Tony asked, noticing the way the man’s brown eyes flared slightly at the mention of the name. “He worked here as some sort of an assistant.”

“Nope. I don’t know any Jonathon Maxwell. I just take care of the grounds,” he answered stiffly, his eyes not quite meeting Tony’s steady gaze.

“Please, sir.” Libby looked at him imploringly. “It’s vital that we find Mr. Maxwell. It’s a matter of life or death.”

The man looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything. I just can’t help you,” he said, then turned to leave.

“Mr. Maxwell?” Tony called after him.

“Yes?” He turned and looked at Tony expectantly, then realizing what he’d done, he sighed and rubbed his balding head in frustration. “How did you know?” he asked Tony, his voice holding a weary resignation.

Tony pointed down at the man’s feet. Beneath the old blue faded overalls, a pair of black leather dress shoes peeked out. “I’ve never known a gardener who worked in good shoes,” Tony explained, then shrugged. “I just took a chance.”

“Who are you and what do you want?” Jonathon Maxwell looked at them, tiredly leaning against the rake.

“I’m Tony Pandolinni and this is Libby Weatherby,” Tony explained. “Somehow we’ve become involved in circumstances that relate to Jasper Higgens’s murder, and now our lives are in danger.” He pulled the golden necklace out of his pocket. “We want some answers.”

Jonathon’s eyes widened at the sight of the sparkling gold necklace. “Put that away,” he ordered, his gaze darting around them nervously. “You don’t know that we aren’t being watched.” He looked around, then gestured for them to follow him.

He led them down a small deer trail through the woods. Tony eased his gun out of his boot, not knowing where they were being taken, what they would find when they got there. His instincts told him to trust the man, but the stakes were too high to rely on instinct alone. As they walked, no one spoke. Tony felt his tension mounting, and when he gazed at Libby, he knew she felt the same, for her face was pale, her eyes large. Still she offered him a brave smile.

They left the woods near the lake’s edge, and standing before them was a small fishing shack. It was into the shack that Jonathon led them. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said bitterly, gesturing for them to have a seat on the orange crates that served as chairs.

Once the three of them were seated, Jonathon began to speak. “I have a beautiful home and family less than six miles up the main road, but I haven’t been home since Jasper’s murder.” His facial features tightened and he moved his orange crate closer to theirs. “There are men watching my house, waiting for me, and I have a feeling they don’t want to wish me a happy day.”

Tony withdrew the necklace from his pocket and dangled it in front of Jonathon Maxwell. “Those men are looking for this, and they have been extremely persistent.”

Jonathon nodded slowly, his brown eyes looking like those of a deer, trapped in the sight of a hunter’s gun. “Jasper told me once that he had given that necklace to his wife many years ago. He said if ever he wanted to hide something important, that’s where he would hide it.”

“But it’s empty,” Libby stated. “The locket is empty.”

“Let me see.” He took the necklace from Libby and turned it over. “Here on the back.” He pointed to a small discoloration. “That’s a microdot chip. It’s what everyone is after.” He gave it back to her. “Damn it!” He suddenly hit the side of the orange crate with his fist. He blushed, as if expletives rarely crossed his lips. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed the top of his bald head with embarrassment. “It’s just that Jasper was such a brilliant man, a genius when it came to chemistry and science, yet he was totally naive about people and power.” His facial features fell into a small smile of sadness. “I guess that’s what eventually got him killed. He trusted the wrong people and didn’t realize his mistake until it was too late.”

“What exactly do you mean?” Tony leaned forward eagerly. “Start at the beginning. What exactly is that microdot chip?”

“Jasper had been working on a particular project for years. It was something he deemed necessary for the continuation of the human race. When he was nearing completion of the project he put out a couple of feelers to find out who he should present the results to. He called a couple of old colleagues in Washington, D.C., told them what he was working on and the successes he’d achieved.” Jonathon frowned. “I don’t know who he eventually contacted or how it happened, but suddenly there were men hanging around the lab, and these were not upstanding citizens. They had guns, and mean faces and sly eyes.” Jonathon looked at them, his own eyes tortured. “Jasper quit talking to me. It was like he knew he had made a mistake and he no longer knew who to trust.”

“And this microchip…it holds the formula to whatever Jasper was working on… But why would he get rid of it at my pawnshop?” Libby pressed quizzically.

Jonathon shrugged. “I’m just guessing, but I suspect he knew he was in trouble. He wanted to get rid of the microchip and buy himself some time. He probably figured he could always come back and buy it back from you or at least remove the chip.”

“So, what exactly was he working on? What’s the formula for?” Libby returned impatiently.

“A formula that when injected into a person counteracts the effects of radiation sickness,” Jonathon explained.

Libby looked at him in confusion as Tony gasped in shock. An antidote for radiation sickness? Why would anyone want to kill for that? How many people in the world could possibly be suffering from radiation sickness? She looked at Tony, surprised to see that his face was bloodless as he stared at Jonathon in horror. Apparently, he understood something that she had missed. “I…I don’t understand,” she finally said with frustration. “Who could want an antidote for radiation sickness?”

“Any group who wanted to take over the world.” Tony breathed deeply. Seeing the confusion on her face, he continued. “Libby, think of the future possibilities of having such an antidote. If a group like the New Republic of Man possessed the antidote, they could plan to destroy all the world except those they wanted to live.” His face blanched once again. “My God, they could set off atomic bombs all over the world, and while all the population was dying of radiation sickness, they would all remain healthy and in control.”

As the realization sunk in, Libby trembled. A handful of people would be in the position to pick and choose who would live and who would die, and the people doing that choosing would include men like the albino. It was a nightmarish thought.

“Why would Jasper Higgens even want to create such a formula?” she asked in amazement.

Jonathon sighed. “The uglier ramifications of such a formula never entered Jasper’s mind. Several years ago his wife died from an accidental exposure to radiation. He was devastated by her death. He became obsessed with finding a cure for radiation sickness. I guess he thought he was doing the world an enormous benefit.” Again Jonathon sighed. “It wasn’t until the last day, before he left here, that he realized the people hanging around the lab weren’t going to use the formula for the benefit of the world, but rather to rule the world.” Jonathon reached out and touched Tony’s arm, his brown eyes pleading in urgency. “Jasper had pretty well gone off the deep end when he completed work on the formula. I’m not sure it’s viable, but you must make certain the chip gets to the proper authorities. In case Jasper truly was successful, you must ensure that it doesn’t fall into the hands of these men.”

Tony nodded to Jonathon in reassurance. “We held on to this necklace not knowing what it contained. Now that we know the importance of the formula, we will guard it with our very lives until we make sure it is given to the proper authorities.” He looked at Libby for confirmation of his words.

She nodded soberly. She hadn’t wanted to relinquish the necklace before just as a matter of principle, now she realized she couldn’t relinquish the necklace even if her life depended on it. If Jasper Higgens had truly managed to develop such a formula, there was much more than her own life riding on the gold necklace. “How did they know where to find him? How did they know he’d placed the formula here on the back of the locket?”

Jonathon shook his head sadly. “Jasper made the mistake of keeping a diary. He’d written in it that he’d had the dot molded to the locket. It’s my guess that when he left here to travel to Kansas City he was followed.”

Libby turned and looked at Tony. “What do we do now?” she asked.

“I’ll call Cliff and tell him what we know. He’ll know who to contact, people who can be trusted. We’ll set up a place and time where we can give them the necklace.” He looked back at Jonathon. “Is there a working phone in the house?”

Jonathon shook his head. “The government men who were here yesterday cut all the wires and shut off all the power in the house when they boarded it up.”

“Where’s the nearest phone from here?” Tony asked tersely.

Jonathon frowned and rubbed the top of his head thoughtfully. “I guess the only place with a phone would be Walker’s Grocery. It’s a little grocery store and boat dock about a mile down the road. There’s a pay phone in front of the store.”

Tony looked at Libby. “We’ll set up to meet Cliff at dawn at this Walker’s Grocery. Let’s get to that phone. I won’t rest easy until we get this necklace to somebody who will know what to do with it.” He touched Libby lightly on the shoulder and stood up. “Thank you, Mr. Maxwell, for telling us everything you did.”

He nodded. “I pray you’ll get it into the hands of good people.” He paused a moment, then continued. “Jasper Higgens was a good man. He’d be devastated if he thought those other men would get his formula.”

Tony nodded, pocketing the necklace once again.

Libby walked with Tony to the door of the fishing shanty, then turned back and looked at Jonathon Maxwell. He looked so helpless, so out of place with his intelligent brown eyes and bald head, sitting on an orange crate in the small shack. “Will you be all right?” she asked with concern.

Jonathon nodded, again with his small, shy smile. “I’ll be fine. As soon as the necklace is with the proper authorities, the men watching my house will go away and I’ll be able to go back home. In the meantime, I’ll be safe here.” He offered her a reassuring smile.

Libby returned his smile, then turned and joined Tony. Together they left the laboratory assistant and the small fishing shack behind.

* * *

Hawk could feel the albino’s anger when they finally realized the woman and the private eye had escaped. Although the albino spoke not a word, his silent rage was a living palpable force in the car as the two men traveled toward Higgens’s lab. It smelled like the spoor of a wild animal, savage and ugly.

“We’ll catch up with them at the lab,” Hawk stated emphatically. “If you’d stuck with me when we got to the motel, we would have had them.” The damn fool had rushed things by going into the cabin alone. He always wanted it all for himself, he thought. He steadied himself and continued, “We have nearly fifty men in the area. They won’t escape.”

The albino turned colorless eyes to Hawk. “No matter what happens, no matter what comes down…the woman is mine.” The emotionless tone of his voice didn’t invite argument.

A momentary flare of compassion touched Hawk’s heart as he thought of the beautiful, blond-haired Libby Weatherby. Her death would not be pretty. She had made a deadly mistake when she’d incurred the wrath of the albino. She would pay a dear price for her error.

The flicker of compassion instantly died, finding infertile ground in Hawk’s hardened heart. He was interested only in the necklace and the formula it contained. If people died in the process of obtaining that formula, well…such was the price of power.