would have destroyed it rather than let Dodd get it. He was taking his orders from Sorenson,’ Miles said. ‘But I’d rather search than pass up the chance.’
‘But Sorenson killed Allison – why would Wallace help him?’
Miles thought for a moment. The pieces were slowly, roughly, fitting together. He said, ‘I think Sorenson and Allison talked Wallace into analyzing the research for them. They don’t want Dodd to know what they’re doing, so she doesn’t use her office computer to send the files, because she knows Dodd’s monitoring her system and her phone. But after she’s sent the files and Wallace has given them his analysis that Frost is indeed good medicine, Allison’s not useful to Sorenson anymore.’
‘He killed her,’ Celeste said. ‘He’d always planned to, if he killed with a bomb. It’s not done on impulse.’
‘Without a doubt.’ Miles nodded. ‘And he must have wanted to keep Wallace in his pocket, so he tells Wallace that Quantrill or Dodd killed her. This is far more than Wallace bargained for. Sorenson drops off Dodd’s radar. Wallace is scared, he can’t let Dodd know he helped Sorenson. If Wallace runs, Dodd’ll know he’s guilty. Wallace can’t have any evidence on his server that the Frost files were ever there. So he lied to me about Sorenson wiping the server; Wallace obliterated the files to cover his own ass.
‘But he doesn’t know that we’ve discovered the file transfer. When Nathan called Dodd, and Dodd in turn called Wallace, Wallace must have freaked. He called Sorenson and Sorenson told him to stay put. Because now, Wallace is bait. Everyone who’s after Frost is rushing to Fish Camp; it’s a golden opportunity for Sorenson to eliminate everyone who’s a threat to him, all at once.’
Nathan paled and shook his head. ‘I didn’t know it was a trap. I didn’t rat.’
‘I believe you,’ Groote said. ‘You don’t give info up easily. I should know.’
‘Shut the hell up,’ Nathan said.
‘I’m still furious with you, Nathan,’ Miles said. ‘You weren’t honest with us, you nearly got us killed.’
‘Dodd said he would protect us,’ Nathan said.
‘Miles.’ Celeste put her hand on his arm, he shrugged it off. ‘Nathan thought he was doing the right thing. Dodd did save my life at the hotel. Let it go.’
‘Miles, Dodd came to me, offered me a chance to make what happened in Iraq right. I couldn’t say no,’ Nathan said.
‘If the bombing was an accident, what did you have to make right, Nathan?’ Miles said. ‘What on earth would you have to fix?’
Nathan stared out the window.
‘Nathan. You could have told us from the beginning Dodd put you in the clinic,’ Miles said. He told Groote to turn – they’d reached the road to Wallace’s house.
For a normally quiet corner, traffic was heavy onto the road that led to Wallace’s house. Smoke painted the sky. ‘Bad sign,’ Groote said.
‘I promised… to say nothing.’ Nathan put the flat of his palms on the side of his head.
‘How were you supposed to report to Dodd? Through Allison?’
‘I had no idea Allison and Sorenson were working for Dodd, none. I was supposed to go through the treatment and then report back to Dodd about the testing. That’s all. When you got me out of the hospital – I decided to keep my mouth shut. You didn’t want to deal with authority and I knew Dodd would help us, but I would have to bring you to him. I thought I was protecting the two of you.’
They reached a bend in the road. In the distance they could see fire trucks parked along the curb. Flames spouted from the shrunken wreck that was the Wallace house.
‘Oh, hell,’ Miles said.
‘Sorenson didn’t want to risk a trace connecting any of today back to him,’ Groote said. ‘Goddamn it.’ He powered the car back toward Highway 41.
‘We don’t have anyplace to go,’ Nathan said.
‘Yes, we do,’ Celeste said. ‘Head for Orange County.’
‘What?’ Groote asked in surprise. Orange County was where Amanda had been; how would she know?
‘I know a place we can go. Just drive.’
FORTY-EIGHT
Groote started calling as soon as his cell phone got a signal.
He first called Amanda’s hospital in Orange, considering carefully what he would say if Amanda was truly gone, sweating, thinking, Please let her be there, for all my sins, God, don’t punish her, let her be there.
The conversation took five minutes. Doctor Warner was not available, but the kind-voiced woman in administration told him the transfer had gone without a hitch, and she hoped Amanda enjoyed the new hospital in Phoenix.
‘Gosh, I left the hospital’s number at my hotel. Do you have it?’ Groote said.
Of course she did.
‘Phoenix,’ Nathan said when Groote told them what the woman had said. ‘Dodd found me at a hospital in Phoenix.’
It lifted Groote’s hopes, and his hand shook as he dialed. Miles took the phone from him, dialed the number, handed the phone back to him.
Man, Groote thought, don’t be nice to me, it’s gonna make it harder if I have to kill you. He thought he had been clever in pulling them in with him, but now – the shock of battle fading – he knew they outnumbered him and he didn’t like the idea that he could lose control of the group.
The Phoenix hospital had no record of an Amanda Groote, or of any new juvenile patient being transferred to them in the last two weeks.
‘Please check again. Please.’ Groote waited and the woman checked again.
‘I’m sorry, sir.’
He clicked the phone off. ‘She’s not there. Dodd lied to her hospital, falsified the records.’
‘You could call every psychiatric hospital in the country,’ Celeste said. ‘We can download a list, work the phones.’
‘You’d help me, Mrs. Brent?’ Groote said.
‘Not you. I’d help your kid.’
‘If Dodd normally lurks in a back corner of the Pentagon,’ Miles said, ‘he doesn’t have to rely on public hospitals. He could have a secret clinic or a safe house to hide Amanda. She’s not even necessarily in a hospital.’
‘She’s not,’ Nathan said. ‘Dodd couldn’t risk putting her in a hospital where she might give incriminating details to another patient.’
‘Give me Dodd’s phone,’ Miles said. ‘Let me check the call log. Might help us reach someone who works for Dodd.’
Groote handed him the phone.
Miles clicked, checked, swore under his breath. ‘No calls. The phone’s been programmed not to record the numbers.’
Groote pounded his fist against the driver’s wheel.
‘Take it easy,’ Miles said. ‘You’re no good to Amanda too rattled to think.’
‘I’ll take you all to Orange County, like Mrs. Brent wanted,’ Groote said. ‘Then I’m getting on a flight to Austin. We’re square. I get Frost, I’ll call you and let you know I have it. But getting it, I don’t need your help.’
‘Actually, you might,’ Celeste said. ‘I know someone who can help us find Sorenson and Amanda. A friend of mine.’ She laughed, a brittle, nervous sound. ‘I told him I was too afraid to go on Oprah with him – wait till he hears what I’ve been doing the past two days.’
FORTY-NINE
