“Please,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. “Are you accusing me of murdering my sister?”

“Did you?”

“Hardly,” she spat.

Sam knew she couldn’t trust the woman, but a knot released in her chest. She held out the bag with Amanda’s things, and Robin flinched.

“Want to tell me how these got here?”

Souleyret was getting upset now. “I have no idea. I have no connection to this man. I’m investigating these crimes, just like you. Besides, do you think I’m dumb enough to leave evidence behind? I’ve been doing this for a very, very long time, Dr. Owens. I wouldn’t be alive today if I was as sloppy as these fools.”

“And yet, you’ve been a part of every crime scene I’ve been to today, and we have DNA to prove it.”

This clearly surprised her. “Bullshit.”

“You left a hair behind this morning at your sister’s place. And the neighbor saw your vehicle. It’s circumstantial, but it will stand up in court.”

Robin was shaking her head. “I didn’t kill those men. And I didn’t kill Bromley, or my sister, or Cattafi. I’ve been searching for her killer, just like you.” She couldn’t resist adding a gibe. “Though it seems I was a few steps ahead, until this moment.”

Sam narrowed her eyes at the woman. “So you’re just exceptionally clever, and someone’s setting you up? That’s what you’re trying to tell me?”

“Yes.” Robin seemed to be on the edge of losing control. Sam wanted to push her there. It would be the most expedient way to get information from her.

“Any idea who might have it in for you?”

Instead of answering, Robin said, “Think about it. Why would I kill my sister? Why would I kill any of these people? Now, the man who attacked me in Dr. Bromley’s office, him I had to stop. He was trying to kill me, and I wasn’t about to let that happen. But I had nothing to do with Amanda’s world, on purpose. It was the best way for me to keep her safe. I love my sister. I’m heartbroken that she’s gone. And I didn’t kill her.”

She must have seen something on Sam’s face. She backed against the sofa and sat down, arms at her sides. Defenseless. Shocked. “But you know who did. And you’ve been playing me. You know I’m innocent.”

Sam nodded. “You’re hardly innocent. But yes, we know who killed Amanda. We have her killer in custody, and a confession.”

Robin took a deep, long breath, her shoulders relaxing. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. But first, I need some ice.” She gave Xander a rueful glance and touched her eye. “Didn’t your mommy teach you it’s not nice to hit girls?”

“My mommy makes exceptions when the girl in question leads with a Smith & Wesson.”

They assembled in the kitchen. Xander plopped some ice from Kruger’s freezer in a dishcloth, handed it to Robin. He made another ice pack, cautiously held it up to his nose. When it was numbed a bit, he signaled to Sam, who ran her fingers along the edge, squeezed the sides. He grimaced, pulled back from her touch, eyes watering.

“It’s not broken. Just banged up. You’ll be pretty again when the swelling goes down.”

Robin, whose face was hidden behind her own ice pack, laughed a little. Sam turned on her.

“You’ve been our number-one suspect in several murders today. You’re damn lucky he didn’t shoot you. I hardly think this is the time to laugh. Explain what you’re doing here. Now.”

“You’re feisty. I like that. I’m just looking for a guy I know,” Robin said lightly.

Sam wasn’t in the mood. “Quit fucking around and tell me how you know Jason Kruger.”

A shadow passed across Robin’s eyes. “That’s not who I’m looking for.”

“Who, then?”

“A ghost.”

Sam got in the smaller woman’s face. “Robin. Listen to me. We have a very bad situation brewing right now. So if you know anything about it, now is the time to talk.”

She did. And the more she told them, the more frightened Sam became.

Chapter 51

Georgetown

CRIME SCENE TECHS were cautiously assessing Samantha’s kitchen, and Fletcher watched the clock, drumming his fingers on the table. They should have called by now. He’d managed to stall the team heading to Kruger’s place, but they would get there soon, and there was nothing he could do.

Heedles had been taken to GW, and the media had their videocassette back. There would be no holding the story down. He was just thankful it was the middle of the night, or they would have already been paraded onto the morning news shows like chickens to the slaughter. It was going to be bad enough when the sun came up.

Armstrong had shown up on scene furious to find Fletcher giving directions, but when he explained what had happened, Armstrong calmed down. He sent Fletcher back to babysit the crime scene at Sam’s place with extreme injunctions to stay put and not move an inch and to get Xander Whitfield back to the scene, then started working with Marcos Daniels to keep the media firestorm under control.

Fletch was tired as hell. The adrenaline spikes throughout the day, the lack of sleep, not enough food and not enough caffeine—it was all catching up to him. He’d hiked across N Street, gotten back to Sam’s, avoided the mess in the kitchen and found Denon grieving alone in the darkened living room. Mouse had stayed nearby, lending quiet comfort, her face glowing in the screen of her computer—didn’t that girl ever get tired?

It was almost quiet when his cell rang. Finally.

“Sam. What did you find?”

“Robin Souleyret, for starters. We know what’s going on. We’re looking for a man named Riley Dixon. Fletcher, we need to drop everything and get everyone in town looking for him. I’m pretty sure he has the vaccines from Cattafi’s place, and he is armed and exceptionally dangerous.”

“Do we have a file on him?”

“He’s CIA black ops. I doubt they’ll let you see it. But I’m sending a picture your way.”

“Where the hell might this guy be, Sam? What’s he up to?”

“He’s going for the aquifer, Fletch. They’re going to release this pathogen into the water supply. It works like cholera, and apparently they’ve developed a strain that is resistant to the treatment they do at the plants. It could already be in the water supply. We’re heading there right now.”

“I’m right behind you.”

“Fletcher. You have to stay there. Send Chalk. Send everyone you have.”

“Samantha, I appreciate you being concerned for my well-being, but there’s no way I’m staying here. MacArthur Road is residential. You’re going to have a lot of scared people if we go in there with lights and sirens. Word gets out, and we’ll have more than a panic on our hands. We could scare him off, and he’ll just find another place to empty his poison into the water.”

“We can’t take this guy ourselves, Fletch. He’s a trained assassin. We need SWAT. And HRT. And every other acronym with a bunch of guns we can find.”

“We have Xander and Chalk. They’re probably more capable than half a dozen SWAT officers. By the time I make the call, rally these guys, this could be over. We have to stop them ourselves. I’ll make the call from the car, get everyone rolling, but we’re going, now.”

“I’m glad you have so much faith in their abilities.”

“Sam, you’re wasting time. To hell with protocol. We’re trying to stop a terror attack. I’m back in the game. Meet me at the aquifer. I’m on my way.”

He heard her curse once before he turned off the phone.

He had no desire to be a hero, but now was the time for them to strap it on and stop this Riley Dixon character before it was too late.

* * *

The D.C. aquifer was quiet, the humming of the engines the only noise. Those who lived in the area were asleep in their beds, completely unaware that a potential terrorist attack was under way.

Fletcher and Chalk headed northwest on the divided highway, driving slowly, watching for anything that might be out of place.