Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Do you think he's dead?" Alisa asked as Jason sped down the dark streets toward West Hollywood, weaving his way in and out of traffic as quickly as he could.

"He was still alive when they put him in the ambulance."

"I'm not talking about Henry, although, I hope he makes it."

He flung her a grim look. "I don't know, Alisa. That's why I need to go into the motel first. I've already called my team. They're on their way. They will probably get there before us."

"That car that almost hit us…it could have belonged to Novikov."

"I know. We'll look into it."

She stared out the window for several long minutes, then looked back at him. "I'm scared, Jason."

He stopped at a light, his expression softening as he gazed at her. "I know. Maybe this is no consolation, but Henry said that Novikov needs your father for something. That suggests he's still alive."

She grabbed the lifeline he was throwing her. "That's true. They won't kill him, at least not yet. But how long does he have? If Henry had only given us the address yesterday. If my dad dies, Henry is partly responsible. "

"He was being loyal to his friend, Alisa, and he didn't give up your dad easily. You saw what they did to him. Frankly, I'm surprised they left him alive. That rarely happens."

"Maybe they thought he wasn't going to make it. And he might not." She blew out a breath. "He said my father was a brilliant chemist. What would Novikov need a chemist for?" As soon as the question left her mouth, she shook her head and said, "Never mind. I don't want you to answer that."

Jason continued through the intersection without a word.

"Chemical weapons, right?" she asked a moment later.

"That would be my guess."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I want to say my father would never do something related to chemical weapons. But then, I didn't even know he was a chemist, that he was once involved with a terrorist on the FBI's most wanted list." Her voice rose with every word until she was almost shrieking.

To his credit, Jason let her ramble without commenting or telling her to calm down. Maybe that's because he was smart enough to know she didn't want to calm down. She was terrified and angry, and every emotion in between those two was rocketing through her so fast she felt like she was being battered by feelings she couldn't even define. She felt enormously overwhelmed, and as much as she wanted to go to the motel and find out if her father was there, she also wasn't sure she could handle it if he wasn't.

"Keep breathing," Jason told her. "Breathe in for five and blow out for ten—slowly."

She followed his instructions, finding that the counting of breaths did help to distract her brain from trying to race in a dozen different directions at the same time.

Ten minutes later, Jason pulled into the motel parking lot, which was already crowded with black SUVs and two police cars.

Jason got out to talk to two men who were standing by the front door of a first-floor guestroom. She rolled down the window so she could hear their conversation .

"He's not in the room," one man said.

Her heart jumped at his words, and she instinctively got out of the car to join them, ignoring Jason's pointed look. There was a heavy police presence; she couldn't believe she was in any danger. "My dad isn't inside?" she asked.

"This is Alisa Hunt," Jason told the men. "Agents Flynn MacKenzie and Nick Caruso."

The blond-haired Flynn gave her a quick nod. "Your father is not in the room. The manager said a van went racing out of here about ten minutes before we arrived."

"If he's not there, can I go inside?" she asked. "I need to see the room, to see where he's been staying."

"We're waiting for forensics," Flynn said. "But if you want to take her in…"

She stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping the interior of the very modest motel room. There was one king bed that wasn't made. Several suitcases and boxes were in one corner of the room. One suitcase was open, with clothes spilling out. There were more clothes on the floor. There was also a chair that had been turned over and broken. The old TV monitor was shattered. The coffee pot looked like it had been flung against the wall, leaving coffee dripping down the tired wallpaper.

Worst of all were the spots of red on the bedspread and the floor. Not as much blood as she'd seen pooling under Henry's body, but enough to make her feel sick at the thought of that being her dad's blood, that he'd been beaten like Henry had, that he was in pain and in trouble. She turned around, walking straight into Jason's chest.

He caught her around the waist and held her there as she buried her face in his shirt, needing his solid strength to keep her on her feet.

"Let's get out of here," he said quietly. "There's nothing to see, Alisa."

His words lifted her head. She looked into his compassionate blue eyes and felt his gaze steady her. Then she glanced back at the boxes in the corner, the things her father had taken out of his house before the fire.

"One second," she said, feeling a new energy. She moved toward the boxes. The top one was open, and inside she could see photo frames. "He brought the pictures from the house," she said, wanting to look through them but mindful of her promise not to touch anything. "Maybe not everything is lost."

"Once it's all itemized and documented, you'll be able to get it back," Jason told her.

"I guess that's something." As she looked away from the box, her gaze caught on the desk where there were local magazines flung across the top. That's when she saw a handwritten letter peeking out from under a magazine. She reached for it before she could stop herself, seeing her name and her mother's name at the top of the letter.

"Alisa," Jason said. "You weren't supposed to?—"

"He wrote me and my mother a letter," she said, the letters of her name blurring with the sudden tears in her eyes. She wanted to read the letter, but she also didn't want to read it because she was afraid of what he was going to tell her. She was terrified this was a goodbye note.

"What does it say?" Jason asked.

"I'm not sure I can read it. Would you?"

He took the letter out of her hand, then read her father's words aloud:

" Pamela and Alisa. This is the most difficult letter I've ever had to write. It has been my incredible privilege to love both of you and to be loved in return. Many years ago, Pamela, I asked you to take a leap with me, to trust I was a good person, that I would be a good husband, and to my shocking surprise, you agreed. Your faith in me was inspiring. And then you gave me a beautiful daughter. "

"Oh, God," she murmured.

Jason looked at her. "Do you want me to go on?"

She gave him a tight nod, her heart pounding against her chest, her emotions threatening to spill out in angry, sad tears. She wrapped her arms around her waist as he continued.

" Alisa, I know you won't understand. You're probably furious at being left out of such a big secret, but it was bad enough that I burdened your mother. I didn't want you to ever have to wonder about me. I couldn't stand to think of how you might look at me if you knew who I was, how you would see me so differently . After so many years, I believed I was safe, that I was worlds away from the life I once led, and that no one would ever find me. That's why I let down my guard. "

Jason paused for a moment and then went on.

"A long time ago, I was a chemist in the Soviet Union, and I was forced to work for the dark side. With the help of a friend, I found my way out and came to the US, where I got a new identity and started over. It was all worth it, especially when I met you, Pamela, when we fell in love and built our family together. I thought I had everything I could want, but then I met Henry."

"Henry?" Alisa echoed, then motioned for Jason to keep reading.

" Henry told me about his research and how close he was to a breakthrough, but he couldn't figure something out. I tried to resist the call of science, but his work was so important and could save so many people that I told him I could help him, but he had to keep my secret. He swore he would. And did. Then one day, by chance, I crossed paths with Tatiana Guseva, someone who knew me from my other life. She had come to the lab to sign up for a clinical trial. I wasn't sure she recognized me. But two weeks later, I thought someone was watching me, watching the house. And then you got ill, Pamela, and someone left me a voicemail that you would get sicker if I didn't meet with them. That's why I left. I'm so sorry, my love. I hope you are well now. I never wanted you or Alisa to get hurt. I thought by putting distance between us I could protect you, but Henry told me they went after Alisa. I'm trying to get help from my contact, but if I don't come back, please know I'm sorry. Please know I love both of you more than life itself. And if my existence brings you pain, then I will end it."

She sucked in a breath. "Oh, my God! It sounds like a suicide note now. What else does it say?"

" I'm still hoping to find a way out."

"And?"

"That's it," Jason said, looking at her. "It's not a suicide note, Alisa."

She felt a minimal amount of relief. "No. It's an in-case-I-don't-make-it-back note, which is kind of the same thing."

"There's still hope. Your father had it. You need to hang on to it."

"I thought you were the pessimistic one."

"I'm a realist. This isn't over. Until it is, think positively." He paused as Nick walked in with a forensics team. "We'll take this with us," he said, motioning her outside.

She followed him through the door, taking several deep breaths of air as Jason stopped to speak to Flynn. They had taken a few steps away from her, so she couldn't hear what they were saying, but she saw Jason show him the letter from her father. Flynn took a photo of the letter and handed it back to him. And then they conversed in low tones for another minute.

Digging her hands in the pockets of her jeans, she looked up at the starry sky, thinking of how many nights she and her dad had sat out on the back deck, and he'd tell her about the constellations.

She'd wondered how he knew so much about the sky, but he'd told her that when he was young, the night sky had felt like a ticket out of his life, a future he could dream about. She had a feeling he could have never imagined his actual future.

"Let's get out of here," Jason said, waving her toward the car.

As they got in, he said, "Do you want to go to the hospital and talk to your mom now?"

"I know I should, but it feels like too much. I can't get into all this with her now. But I haven't been there since this afternoon. She's probably wondering where I am."

"Why don't we just call her? The nurse can get her phone to her. You can find out how she's feeling. You don't have to tell her about the letter."

"Doesn't she deserve to know everything? Am I wrong to keep it from her?"

"There's so much we don't know, Alisa, and there's nothing your mother can do. It's your call, but I think you should focus on her condition and assure her you're all right. Then she can rest, knowing you're safe."

"I agree," she said as he took out his phone.

He called the hospital and asked for the nurse's station on the sixth floor. Several moments later, he handed her the phone.

She heard the nurse talking to her mom, and then her mother's voice came on the line. The familiarity almost made her want to cry, but she had to hold it together.

"Hi, Mom," she said, forcing a cheerful note into her voice. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm doing better. I even watched a game show tonight. It reminded me how your father knew all the answers before we did."

"Before they even finished the question," she said, feeling pain at the memory.

"Have you heard anything from him?"

"I haven't talked to him," she said carefully, wording the lie so it would be partly true. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Where are you?" her mother asked.

"I'm with Jason."

"Is he keeping you safe? Is he making sure you eat?"

"He's doing all that. In fact, we were thinking of getting dinner now. Are you okay tonight if I don't come by until tomorrow?"

"Of course. You do not need to spend any more time watching me sleep."

"Then I'll come in the morning." She felt guilty at the wave of relief that swept through her.

"That's perfect, Alisa. Have a good night. "

"You, too. I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too. I'll see you tomorrow."

She let out a breath as she set the phone on the console. "We can just go to the safe house."

As he pulled out of the lot, she glanced back at the motel where her father had spent the last few days. Hopefully, those days wouldn't be his last.